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casual-violinist-fangirl · 22 hours

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I Will be Here, Don't You Cry - 4,971 Words

Two fics in one day?! She must have written this instead of doing any work...

Set after the reunion in A Different Approach. This is a Hunter and Omega father-daughter fluff/hurt/comfort fest!

This is pretty much canon compliant, however there is an AU time-hop to the end of Season 3 at the end.

As always, the link to my AO3 is here and the link to my masterlist on tumblr is here.

Thank you so much for reading and for your support! I really appreciate it!

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In hindsight, Hunter should have checked her over before she went to sleep; that had been his first mistake.

Omega had clung to Hunter’s side, still sniffling as they walked back towards the Marauder. Hunter had wanted to bask in the warmth of having her back for longer, but realistically he knew that they needed to leave before the Empire managed to track the ship Crosshair and Omega had arrived in.

Speaking of Crosshair…

The clone had been silent since disembarking the cargo shuttle. He had walked back over to his siblings, trying not to break his cold expression on his approach. Hunter had looked him up and down, nodding his thanks.

After all, despite their differences, he had brought Omega home.

Once on board the ship, it dawned on Hunter that Crosshair hadn’t seen it since they had converted the gunner’s mount to Omega’s room… and they had kept her room almost exactly as it had been left.

This was mostly down to the fact that Hunter hadn’t been able to stomach going anywhere the gunner’s mount during the little girl’s absence. It held too many memories of laughter and smiles and bedtime stories. Even when they had needed the ship’s canons, it had been Wrecker who’d had to enter the turret.

Glancing down to where Omega still had her arms wrapped around one of his, he couldn’t help but smile at the overwhelmingly warm feeling that filled him. Despite it all, she had made it back to them. Back to him.

He choked back his emotion, clearing his throat before asking Wrecker to start up the engines. Crosshair glanced silently around the cabin before his eyes fixed on something. He inhaled sharply, his face pinching in pain. Hunter followed his brother’s gaze and his heart ached when he saw Tech’s smashed goggles still sat on the shelf. Another thing he hadn’t been able to go near. The pain the goggles held still egged down on the sergeant, and he made a point of crouching down in front of Omega.

“You hungry, kid?” he asked as the ship began to power up. Almost on cue, Omega’s stomach grumbled and she laughed shyly before nodding.

“I guess I am,” she admitted. “It’s been a while since we’ve eaten… we just wanted to get back to you.”

Hunter nodded, sending Crosshair a questioning glance. The sniper frowned, but his face softened slightly when Omega turned to him with one of her disarming smiles.

“Batcher needs something too,” he commented, not unkindly. Hunter looked down at the hound, nodding at his brother’s comment.

“We might have something she can eat,” he replied. The conversation was short. Sharp. Tense.

Hunter supposed he should count himself lucky that Crosshair had spoken to him at all… though had he really been speaking to Omega? Who knew… hopefully that would clear up with time.

Wrecker guided the ship into hyperspace before setting the controls to autopilot and spinning around in his chair. The cockpit was still empty apart from him and his heart sank slightly at that; he was happy to have Omega back, thrilled even. The little girl lit up every room she entered and he couldn’t wait for things to go back to how they were… or sort of how they were. Wrecker supposed things would never be the same now that Tech was gone.

Maybe Crosshair would re-join them? He wouldn’t go back to the Empire, not after spending time imprisoned there. Wrecker had missed his brother. He was the only one who would admit it, but he was secretly glad that the sniper was back with them. Hunter was suspicious, Wrecker could tell, but then Hunter had been going crazy ever since Omega had disappeared.

Wrecker had been forced to sedate him once just to get him to rest. Hunter had taken a hint after that.

Sighing, Wrecker stood from his seat and exited the cockpit. He was met by an almost surreal sight upon entering the cabin.

Hunter was sat at the navi-computer, a ration bar in his hand; that filled Wrecker with relief. He hadn’t failed to notice the weight his brother had lost in the past six months (another thing he had constantly nagged him about). As it turned out, Omega had noticed too. She nibbled on her own ration bar, tear tracks clear on her face, glancing up at Hunter every now and then to make sure that her brother (father?) was in fact eating.

Crosshair was slumped in a chair further back and it became clear quite quickly that Hunter had given him two ration bars. Wrecker didn’t blame him, Crosshair looked as though he hadn’t eaten in weeks… maybe he hadn’t. Who were they to know?

The hound… Batcher, sat curled up at Crosshair’s feet and occasionally the sniper would reach down and scratch her ears. He always had been soft when it came to animals (not that he would ever admit it).

The group sat in silence, and it weighed heavily on all of them. Ration bars eaten, Hunter turned to Omega once more.

“Fancy the ‘fresher?” he asked, taking in her mud-stained face and dirty hair. She nodded, hissing as she stood and stretched. As she headed to the ‘fresher, she paused suddenly.

“I won’t have any clean clothes that fit,” she muttered, almost embarrassed. Hunter cringed. How could he have forgotten? Standing as well, he went to his bunk before rummaging around in his crate. Before long he fond what he was looking for and pulled it out.

“These’ll be on the big side, but they’re clean and warm,” he offered out a pair of his old blacks from when he was a cadet. Omega’s face lit up at the sight of them and she grabbed them before thanking him quickly and rushing into the ‘fresher. Before long the sound of water hissing through the pipes could be heard.

The silence that enveloped the three brothers now that Omega was gone felt even worse than before. Wrecker glanced as Hunter busied himself once more with the navi-computer; Crosshair made a point of looking around the ship, taking every tiny change since he had last been on board.

Their silence went on this way until the ‘fresher door hissed open once more and Omega bounded out.

She looked exhausted to put it lightly. Now that the dirt was gone from her face you could make out the dark circles under her eyes. When was the last time she had slept? Hunter mused to himself. He pushed that thought to one side as he glanced over at Crosshair.

“Your turn, if you want,” he said shortly. The sniper nodded curtly before standing and making his own way into the ‘fresher. He swooped by his old crate on the way and grabbed a set of blacks. He had no armour to wear with them currently, but anything would be better than the prison uniform and stolen clothes from Lau.

All of a sudden, Omega let out a loud yawn, making both Hunter and Wrecker chuckle.

“Bed time?” the sergeant suggested with a fond smile that he only ever reserved for her. She nodded, though their was an air of reluctance about her as she padded over to the gunner’s mount and started to climb the ladder. She turned froze in her tracks before scuttling back down and running over to Wrecker. She wrapped him in a quick hug, which he returned, before making her way to Hunter. Wrapping her arms around him as well, she mumbled something into his middle that only he could hear.

“Of course,” he replied, following her as she made her way back to the tower. Omega seemed more relaxed this time, scaling the ladder and clambering into her bedroll. Hunter climbed after her, perching on the edge of the gunner’s mount and reaching over to turn on the string of lights. Wrecker couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face as he shifted out of his seat and back into the cockpit. He could give the pair a little bit of privacy he supposed.

Hunter pulled Omega’s blanket up to her chin like he had done six months ago, before before everything had gone so horribly wrong. She smiled like she had done then, shuffling further into the blankets and holding Lula and Trooper close.

“Glad to have you back, kid,” Hunter eventually said, cursing internally as he heard his voice croak. Omega’s eyes filled with tears once more, but she smiled a watery smile.

“I don’t want to wake up and this all be a dream,” she whispered, a hint of fear in her voice; it broke Hunter’s heart that even though she was far away from wherever she was held captive, it was still haunting her.

“You don’t need to worry about going back there,” he soothed. “You’re back and we’re going home. That’s all we need to think about right now.” The sergeant stifled a yawn of his own, making Omega giggle.

“Maybe you should be getting sleep too,” she commented slyly. So her sense of humour had returned… that was a relief.

“Maybe I will,” Hunter replied, pulling face that made Omega giggle even more. She yawned all of a sudden, her eyes drooping as exhaustion took over again.

In a moment of bravery, Hunter swooped down and pressed a gentle kiss against Omega’s forehead.

“Missed ya, kid,” he said quietly as he began to climb back down the ladder. “Sleep well.”

Once he reached the bottom of the ladder, he reached up and turned the string of lights off before shutting the curtain to the gunner’s mount. Omega shuffled quietly before all movement stopped and her breathing began to even out. Within minutes she was sound asleep.

Hunter perched on his bunk, pondering over his own exhaustion; he wasn’t entirely sure when he last slept. Even though Wrecker was constantly nagging him and he tried his best to rest, sleeping had not come easily during Omega’s absence. Perhaps knowing that she was back and safe would help him relax, he pondered as he felt his eyes grow heavy.

Maybe he should stay awake just in case she needed him, he absently thought as his head began to feel warm and fuzzy, sleep inviting him in.

He wasn’t sure how long it took for him to fall asleep, but he was out cold and enjoying a dreamless sleep before too long.

——

Shuffling was the sound that woke him, and he shouldn’t have been surprised really. The Marauder had gone from having only two people on it to having five occupants, of course noise was going to be the thing that woke him up.

Hunter’s head felt foggy and if he didn’t know better, he’d think that he was hungover; realistically he knew that he only felt this way because he had been in a deep sleep after not resting for too long. He had every intention of rolling over and going back to sleep when another sound entered his consciousness.

A sniffle.

Who was crying? Now alert, the clone sat up as quietly as possible. If someone was upset he didn’t want to startle them. Hunter glanced around the dark cabin, glad for his enhanced sight as he did so. Crosshair was the first person he thought of, always one to hide his emotions until he was out from everyone’s watchful gaze. He glanced across at the sniper and was surprised to see him out cold, snoring lightly. He imagined this was the comfiest he had been in a long time, the safest he had felt in a long time… he was probably making the most of it.

Batcher was curled up underneath Crosshair’s bunk, also breathing heavily; of course Omega had managed to gain a put dog during her time imprisoned. Hunter didn’t really know why he was surprised.

He could also hear Wrecker’s familiar snores, which ruled out his other brother as the source of the crying sounds… which only left one person.

“Omega?” he whispered as he quietly climbed out of his bunk and padded across the cabin. He paused before pulling back the curtain, not wanting to intrude on her privacy. Another sniffle, frustrated and desperate made him forget privacy and he pulled the curtain to one side.

The little girl in question was indeed the one crying; she had fresh tear tracks on her face and a scowl across her features. Hunter glanced down at what she was holding, raising an eyebrow when he spotted her hair tie and… her hairbrush. Only her hairbrush was broken, a couple of the teeth missing.

Omega almost looked a little betrayed when she spotted Hunter, but that look left her quickly as her shoulders sagged and a small sob left her. He had been quick to react, taking in the whole situation quickly. Hunter lay two gentle hands over hers, prying the brush and the hair tie out of them.

“Having problems with your hair?” he asked, keeping his voice as neutral as possible. Judging from the broken brush and the scraggly dead hair still attached to the hair tie, she was having more than just ‘problems’ with he hair. She nodded, the offending hair falling around her face as she did so.

“It hurts to brush…” she trailed off in an ashamed whisper. “I thought I could just deal with it but the brush got stuck and I pulled it too hard.” Reaching back into her hair, Hunter could tell she was trying to find the missing teeth from the brush. “And then it broke,” she finished, her eyes filling with tears once more as she began to sniffle again.

Anger coarse through Hunter. He had spent time training Omega on how to look after he hair when she had been with them before, and it seemed as though she had just been neglected and handed a hair tie when she was dumped on Tantiss.

He didn’t let his anger show though, as he offered his arms out she she barrelled into them; he took a small step back to steady himself but caught her and gently pulled her down from the gunner’s mount. With her still in his arms, he carried her quietly through to the cockpit.

Once there, he set her down on one of the chairs. Crouching in front of her like he had when he promised she was never going back to Kamino, he held the sides of the chair and smiled reassuringly at her.

“Want my help?” he asked gently; he wasn’t going to push her into it, but he wanted to help her if he could… and hair was sort of one of his areas of expertise.

Thankfully, Omega nodded, and Hunter nodded before standing and setting to work find what he needed.

He could feel Omega’s eyes on him as he moved around the cockpit, looking for various things that would help him. Eventually he sat down in the chair opposite hers, comb, brush and spray bottle in hand. He gestured for her to turn around in her seat, and eventually she was sat facing the back of the chair. The sergeant examined the back of her head without touching it at first, not wanting to cause her more discomfort than he had to…

… he quickly realised that he had a long job ahead of him.

The top layer of Omega’s hair looked relatively well brushed, even if it had only been with her fingers, but when that was moved to one side, a clump about the size of his fist rested at the nape of her neck where her ponytail had been.

Hunter breathed in slowly, trying not to let on how angry he was at her captors. Taking the clump in his hand, he examined it; it was made up of matted knots, dead hair, dead skin, what looked like leaves and twigs and… the missing teeth of the hairbrush.

“Who did your hair on Tantiss?” he asked gently as he set down his tools and picked up the spray bottle.

“No one,” came the meek reply. “I tried to brush it with my fingers… but that only worked for so long. When it started getting too long, Emerie gave me a hair tie.”

Hunter made a mental note to ask about this Emerie later, but for now he turned his focus back to the task at hand. Once her hair was suitably wet, he put the spray bottle down and picked up the comb. As gently as possible he started to tease the knots out of the bottom of the clump, hoping that he didn’t pull out too much of her hair in the process.

Occasionally Omega would hiss in pain and Hunter would mutter an apology and offer her a break, but other than that the pair sat in comfortable silence as the night wore on. It wasn’t until it was nearly the third hour of Hunter working on her hair that she quietly piped up.

“You look tired,” she commented softly, playing with her hands as they lay in her lap. Hunter froze for a fraction of a second, but it was long enough for the little girl to notice. “You’ve been sleeping, right?”

Kriff, how was this kid so perceptive? Hunter considered how to respond before he realised that he’d left it too long and needed to think of something to say that wouldn’t worry her…

“It was… difficult to relax properly when we were trying to figure out where you were,” he eventually admitted, and Omega’s shoulders tensed.

That was an understatement, really. The truth was that Hunter had driven himself to the brink of exhaustion more times than he was comfortable with and Wrecker had been forced to sedate him at one point. He hadn’t been proud of that moment.

Now that he thought about it, he’d been acting like a mad man over the past six months, driven to crazy, risky actions by his grief and guilt. He really needed to apologise to Wrecker, who had bore the brunt of his pain-riddled temper. He could think of countless moments where he had dragged them into crazy plans that would have almost certainly ended in death had it not been for Wrecker’s sensible thinking.

Omega didn’t say anything for a while, almost seeming to sense his guilt. Just when Hunter thought that she wasn’t going to say anything else at all, she suddenly spoke again.

“You should get some sleep,” she replied lightly, but he could hear the worry in her voice. He almost laughed; he should be the one worrying about her, not the other way around.

“I will once we’re back on Pabu,” he responded, only for Omega’s shoulders to tense up again. She wiggled her head away from Hunter’s grasp and turned to face her brother.

“You need to sleep.” she had a frown on her face now, her arms crossed and an eyebrow raised. Hunter knew that face; that was the face he used to use to get her to go to bed.

“Omega…” he sighed, resting his arms down by his sides. Sure he had been dead to the world before her crying had woken him, but he had been due a power nap. Now he’d probably be able to stay awake all the way through the rest of their journey.

The little girl wasn’t having any of that, it seemed.

“You’re going to sleep as soon as we’re done here.” It was an order, not a suggestion and the child nodded before turning around once more and allowing him to resume his work.

“Sir, yes sir,” Hunter grumbled as he picked up the comb once more.

——

An hour or so later, and Hunter was working through the last of the knots. Omegas’ hair would need another wash and brush in the morning, but it shouldn’t be anywhere near as difficult or lengthy a process.

“You’re all good, kid,” he said; his voice croaked slightly with exhaustion and his eyes felt heavy again. Maybe a kip would do him some good…

… there was no response from Omega, and Hunter realised that she had dozed off in the chair as he’d been brushing her hair. He sighed and tried to gently manoeuvre her out of the position, only for her to suddenly yelp and start thrashing.

“NO!” she cried, eyes snapping open, but not focusing. “I won’t go back there! Hunter!” Omega collapsed in a heap as Hunter tried grasp her before she hit the floor. Taking a few shuddering breaths, she seemed to realise just where she was and glanced around the cockpit of the ship. Upon spotting Hunter, she lunged for him wrapping her trembling arms around him and refusing to let him go. He was forced to crouch down to her level, joining her on the floor of the cockpit as he held her close; she clambered into his lap allowing him to wrap his arms around her fully and whisper soothing words into her hair.

Eventually, when her breathing had evened out a little more, he glanced down at the child. She was clinging to his blacks, her head nestled into his chest in a way that he’d never really held her before. Sure, she’d given him hugs that he’d awkwardly tried to return in the past but this new sense of closeness was alien to him. Alien and yet it felt as though it should have been this way all along.

“I don’t want this to be fake,” she whispered hoarsely. “I don’t want to wake up and be back there and be faced with another day in that place.”

Hunter nodded before resting his chin on the top of her head.

“You’re safe, ad’ika,” he replied. He’d learned the term from Tech, who had teased him once about how Omega had seemed more like a daughter than a sister.

Omega froze in his embrace and glanced up at him. She knew what it meant, clearly, from the look in her eyes. They shone with yet more unshed tears but instead of a sad look on her face, the ghost of a smile crossed her features.

“You really mean that?” she asked. Hunter blanched, but nodded, trying to remain calm. People had always mistaken him for Omega’s father and he had spent so long denying that he was… it had only been since her disappearance that he had come to terms with the fact:

Omega was his kid.

There was no denying it now, the girl knew what he thought and now all he had to do was wait for her rejection. What was he thinking? He couldn’t be a father to her, he couldn’t promise to keep her safe when he’d lost her.

He was drawn out of his spiral by arms being thrown around his neck.

“I’m glad you do,” she whispered just loudly enough for him to hear, and Hunter found that he was having to blink back tears. Omega pulled away from the hug and smiled at him before a large yawn practically split her face in two. Hunter chuckled.

“Tired?” he asked, and she nodded, though a look of fear passed over her face. Hunter frowned; he never wanted to see his little girl look scared again if he could help it.

“Omega?” he asked, concern laving his voice. The child chewed her bottom lip nervously.

“I…” she trailed off, running her hand through he newly brushed hair. “I don’t want to be on my own,” she said quietly, looking a little embarrassed. Hunter nodded and briefly paused before scooping her up and carrying her back into the cabin. He set her down on his bunk gently before crouching down and putting the hairbrush and spray bottle away.

“You could always stay her tonight?” he suggested, glancing up at his kid. She nodded keenly before shuffling back on the bunk and pressing herself against the wall of the cabin. Hunter ditched the last of his armour before clambering into the bunk himself, pulling the blankets over them both.

The pair shuffled for a moment, adjusting to sharing a bunk designed for one person, but before long Omega was cuddled against her father figure, a handful of his blacks clutched tightly in her grip. Her breathing began to slow as she eased into a (hopefully) deep sleep, but before she did she whispered something just you enough for Hunter to hear.

“Night, buir.”

So Tech had been teaching Omega some Mando’a too, it seemed. Hunter’s breath caught in his throat as he heard the term, but smiled at the warmth that spread through him

“G’night, ad’ika.”

He knew in that moment, that as long as he had his little girl, he could face down anything else that happened to their family unit. Anything at all.

——

Weeks later, he was sore and exhausted as he searched the rubble of Tantiss, desperately searching for signs of Omega. The last thing any of them had been expecting was for the Zillo beast to break loose and collapse the mountain-base. It had made swift work of the labs before running off in search of more chaos to cause… leaving the survivors to search the rubble.

Echo had caught up with them not long ago, battered and bruised but very much alive. He had dragged a bedraggled scientist with him (Hunter learned that this was Emerie), claiming that the pair of them had been trying to free Omega and the other children (others?!) in the vault before the chaos had begun.

The squad were frantically pulling apart the rubble in search of any sign that the children were alive when Emerie let out a pained gasp. Hunter’s head shot up and he ran over to where the woman was standing.

In her hands she was holding what he could only describe as a straw version of Lula, dirty and coming apart…

“This belonged to Eva,” Emerie stammered as she looked around. Hunter realised that this must be one of the children’s names. If Eva was buried under this pile of rubble, maybe Omega could be too. The pair of them crouched and began to dig at the rubble that surrounded the area. Hunter could feel the tears filling his eyes as they got deeper. What if she wasn’t here? What if, after only just realising that he was in fact Omega’s father, he was going to have that ripped away from him?

“Buir!”

Hunter’s head shot up. He yanked his helmet off, looking around as he tried to place the voice. Suddenly, there she was. She was filthy, covered from head to toe in dust and dirt, but she was grinning as though she had just won a prize.

He wasted no time running towards her, vaguely registering the other children that she was stood with. They looked a little startled as Hunter swept Omega into his arms and held her close.

He burst into tears as he held her, gripping onto her like his life depended on it.

“Omega,” he uttered through ragged breaths, relishing in the fact that his little girl held him close.

“Buir,” she replied softly, her own voice thick with emotion. He set her down before holding her at arm’s length and checking her over.

“Are you okay?” he asked almost frantically, looking her up and down. “Are you hurt anywhere?”

She shook her head, tears still streaming down her cheeks. This reminded him so much of when she had found them the first time around.

“It’s over,” she choked out, and Hunter nodded, glancing at the rubble around them.

“It’s over,” he soothed as he pulled her back into a hug.

——

The Marauder was gone. A new ship had taken it’s place, provided by Rex and his men as they turned up to evacuate the Batch, Emerie, the children and any surviving clones. Hunter and Emerie had both agreed to help the children find their homes again, seeing as Eva and Sami couldn’t recall their home planets (they had been so young when they’d been taken) and Jax knew the planet name but couldn’t remember the town. Barryn had no way of communicating his home planet, which presented its own challenge.

The Firebird, their new ship, was… very full at the moment. It had two bunk rooms, unlike the Marauder, and one of those had been allocated to the kids whilst they were staying on board. The other was slept in by Hunter and his brothers. Emerie opted to sleep in the common room, still wary and unsure of her newfound freedom. No one questioned it.

That night, Wrecker was on watch when Hunter heard the soft patter of feet across the short hallway to the cabin he was currently sharing with Crosshair and Echo. He rolled his eyes fondly, knowing exactly who was coming in.

The door hissed open only to reveal Omega stood in Hunter’s blacks (still too big for her) and shivering in the cold night air. She crept across the room to Hunter’s bunk, where he rolled over and shifted, moving the blanket so that she could climb in. Omega still opted to wedge herself between Hunter and the wall of the room, holding not his blacks like they were a lifeline. He pulled her close, pressing a kiss to her forehead as the pair of them drifted into a light sleep.

“Love you, buir.”

“Love you too, ad’ika. Sweet dreams.”

Who knew how long their ship would be more like a boarding house for tiny Jedi, but Hunter couldn’t care less. He would offer to house and feed all of the kids in the universe as long as he got to see his little girl smiling and happy each day.

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evilkaeya · 2 months

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Oh he means the world to me

#his smile warms and aches my heart at the same time #he loves humanity so so so much #he loves humanity but thinks he can never be a part of it. he doesn't consider himself human but oh dear. who's going to tell him?#who's going to tell him that he's the most human of all?#he sees humanity in everyone but not himself #even though he's brimming with it. humanity and emotions. he's so full of life it's blinding.#if only he could see himself through my eyes. the reader's eyes. he would've known.#bsd dazai

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papercorgiworld · 29 days

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I don't need space, I need you

Mattheo and Theodore fluff

Based on this request, please don't hate me for taking 29 days to post this rather average piece, but I had a lot of requests and not a lot of time. I hope you like it!

Finally I had time to write today! Big yey for me, people. I needed it and I'm so happy I wrote something today. 💛 Sending you lots of love and of course: happy readings!

A/N: I got some stuff going on in life so if I don't respond, I'm sorry. Just know that I love you. 💛

Mattheo

“Where’s my princess?” Mattheo sings as he enters the common room in search of you. “Not here, I would check the library.” Blaise states not looking up from his book. Mattheo nods and is about to turn around to head straight for the library, but Draco’s snickering stops him from doing so. “I bet you’re pleased to have a moment of peace.” Mattheo focuses on Draco, not completely getting where the blond's going with this. “I honestly pity you, man, must be so suffocating.” Suddenly all eyes are on Mattheo and not just his friends, the entire slytherin common room is curious to hear what the big bad boy has to say. Mattheo moves a nervous hand through his curls and chuckles. “Yeah, she’s a bit much with her hugs and cuddles, and urgh those constant questions to check on me. I’m lucky she studies so much, so I have a break from time to time.” Mattheo sits down opposite of Draco who grins and nods, fully believing that Mattheo feels saved by your absence. However, Mattheo felt miserable sitting there, knowing that he could be spending time with you.

Just like Mattheo was searching the castle for you, you had been searching for him and ended up checking the common room. With watery eyes you turn around, unnoticed by anyone, and leave the common room. He thinks I’m too much?

***

“Who is it?!” Mattheo yells as he pushes you against the wall of an empty hallway. He rarely raised his voice with you, but now his face was close to yours, his eyes dark and piercing yours. He looks more pained than angry, but you just look confused. To him it was obvious, you had fallen out of love with him and probably found someone else. There was plenty of proof:

A quick kiss on the lips and a wish of good luck before Tuesday's test was all Mattheo got, instead of the tight hug and intense kiss you would normally give him before a test.

When you got your results back on Wednesday you jumped into Luna’s arms and just gave him a happy smile, while he was standing right there next to Luna. His heart ached to hold you and press you against his chest. Worse was when you asked Enzo about his test first and ended up discussing all the answers, barely giving your boyfriend any attention.

Thursday you went to sit next to Pansy in the common room, instead of settling in your boyfriend’s lap. Mattheo was forced to watch you the whole evening without touching you once. When you left for bed, you told him not to walk you to your room and reminded him to spend some much needed time with his friends. The sweet kiss you gave him, didn’t make up for any of it.

Were you trying to get rid of him? To Mattheo the case was obvious.

Friday was the worst. Happy to finally have you next to him as you were both reading, settled close by the fire. With his eyes still on the page of his own book his arm moved behind you to pull you closer and you let your head rest on his shoulder as you continued to read, but still Mattheo frowned. Normally you would sling your legs over his and cuddle up against his chest, wrapping your blanket around the both of you and creating this warm bubble of love. He could barely focus on his book, as his eyes constantly wandered to you reading next to him but not cuddled up against him like you used to.

So by Saturday Mattheo had pretty much had it with you. You rubbed your temple as squeezed your eyes. “I have a headache, I’m gonna head to my room and rest for a bit.” You got up from your seat to leave the library and Mattheo did the same. If you weren’t feeling well then he needed to be by your side. “Oh, don’t Matt. I’ll be fine. I’ll ask Pansy to give me something against the pain and settle next to me until I fall asleep.” Mattheo stood perplexed as you just kissed him and left. Now he wasn’t even good enough to take care of you anymore.

This was the moment he snapped. With stern strides he follows you.

“Who is it?!” You frowned at the question and met Mattheo’s dark eyes. “Obviously, you’re done with me. So who’s better than me, huh?” His voice was filled with anger, but his question sounded so heartbreaking, that you felt no need to get angry with him for pushing you against the wall and snapping at you. You cup his cheeks and softly shake your head. “Matt, I love you. I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Your voice is calm and endearing, reminding him of how much he needed your love. You were always so gentle with him and feeling you slip away the past week hurt so much that he felt like falling apart on the spot. He's too hurt and afraid to lose you to act tough and with a whisper he confesses his worries. “You don’t check up on me anymore. You don’t wish me luck before a test like you used to. We don’t cuddle anymore.” You stare at him in silence for a moment, you had never seen Mattheo this soft and vulnerable before.

Your hands still resting on his cheeks move to his neck as you wrap your arms around him and pull him against you. Mattheo snuggles his face in your neck, embarrassed with himself and desperate for your warmth. You rest your head against his and your fingers move through his curls, making him sigh at your touch. “You told Draco I was a bit too much. So I backed off, because I didn’t want to lose you. I know I can get clingy sometimes, I’m sorry.” Mattheo moves away to look at you and his eyes look guilty. “No, no. Don’t apologise. Don’t be sorry. I love you clingy and cuddly. I need you to be around me.” Your eyebrows knit together. “But I heard you say-” Mattheo interrupts you and shakes his head. “I was being stupid. Don’t listen to the things I say. Just stay with me and love me… overwhelm me with everything you have.” You tilt your head in confusion. “No, I mean listen to me, just forget about what I said back then. I- I was trying to act tough so I pretended to- you know.” You chuckle. “You pretended not to like cuddles, because you wanted to be a tough guy?” Embarrassed with himself Mattheo nods. “I’m a softy for you and I need my daily dose of love. I don’t need space.”

You sigh at Mattheo’s pouty face. “My boyfriend’s an idiot.” Mattheo nods and leans in for a kiss. “Please, let me take you to your room and let me take care of you, because I want nothing more than to be around you.” You pull him in for another intense kiss as an answer and as you walk to your dorm, he squeezes your hand the whole time walking.

Theodore

“Where’s my lady?” Theodore frowns as he sits down opposite of Blaise, who raises his shoulders without looking up from his book. Theo shakes his head in annoyance, he needed you like he needed cigarettes. He spent the whole day longing for your love and warm embraces. Merlin, all he wanted right now was for you to entangle your fingers with his hair and ask him about his day. “For once the two of you aren’t attached to the hip.” Mattheo quips and Draco snickers. “Must be refreshing to have a moment to yourself.” Theodore stays silent for a moment and a little further, near the common room entrance you halt in your step. “She’s so mothering, it’s almost toxic. I don’t know how you do it, mate.” Draco wiggles his eyebrows at Theo as Mattheo talks. “You know, if you ever need us to come save you, we could always come up with a code word.” Draco offers and Theodore chuckles, not knowing what to say. “It’s not toxic, but I’m happy to have a moment with you guys, because she can be a bit much. She’s always so… clingy.” You chew your lip and slowly take a step back, leaving the common room as the word ‘clingy’ rings in your head.

***

You didn’t want to lose your boyfriend due to being too clingy. So you decided to keep your distance.

Instead of spending your evening studying cuddled up with your boyfriend you ask Hermione to help you out with potions who of course never passes the opportunity to study. Keeping up his tough act in front of his friends, Theodore can’t protest as you leave the common room to go study with your friend instead of with him. Theo feels himself get cold as he sits by the fireplace with his friends. If you’re not there to keep him warm the room just feels empty and even the conversations are boring. He can’t help but curse himself for letting you go study with Hermione. Having to make peace with an evening without you, Theodore longs for the next day and having you next to him during breakfast while you talk about your plans for the day.

The next morning, at breakfast Theo only gets a small kiss from you before you turn to Pansy gossiping about some third years. Theodore can’t resist but snake an arm around you and you love his touch, but you try not to be too clingy and decide to not fully lean against him. Your boyfriend is happy to have you next to him, but disappointed that you stay engaged with Pansy’s gossip instead of giving him some much needed attention. Why were you not combing his hair with your fingers until it looked the way you preferred it? Why were you not checking if he had done all his homework? What was so bloody interesting about Pansy’s conversation?!! He was getting so annoyed that he was caught by surprise when you kissed him tenderly and headed for class. His mind and body were screaming to have you back by his side and walk you to class, but he just turned to his breakfast and spent the morning sulking.

Finally, after two days, he had you close to him, settled on his bed with a book in your hand. You were all alone in his room and you both enjoyed the peace and quiet. You lay between his legs with his arms around you, while his head rested on yours, reading some of the paragraphs of your book but mostly taking in your warmth and scent. He gives you a soft kiss on your cheek and you smile and lean against his chest. “I love you.” You whisper and his eyes shine even brighter than he smiles. “Love you too.” However, your romantic moment is ruined when Blaise and Mattheo enter. “Astronomy tower?” Mattheo raises his eyebrows at Theo who is about to decline the invitation, but you speak up first. “I was just about to meet up with Luna.” You jump up and Theodore's eyes go furious at the suggestion of you leaving. “No you’re not.” Theo snaps at you, shaking everyone in the room. “Why are you so eager to get away from me?” Theo questions and Blaise and Mattheo’s eyes move from their friend to you. You take a step back at your boyfriend's accusation. “I’m not. I’m just giving you space so you can hang out with your friends.” Theo shoots Blaise and Mattheo a dark glare. “Out! Both of you!”

As soon as the duo closes the door behind them and you and Theodore are left alone in the room Theodore gets up and towers over you. “I don’t want space, I want you. So tell me what’s going on, because I can’t stand it anymore.” His voice is stern, but you feel yourself relax as you no longer have to act differently and you can finally be honest with him. “You think I’m clingy and sometimes I’m too much… and I get that and I don’t want to lose you… so I did my best to give you some space in the hopes of saving our relationship.” Theodore’s heart aches at the soft tone of your voice. How could he make you feel like you were too much when you were all he wanted. “I’m such a shit boyfriend.” Theo sighs as he sits back down on his bed, making you frown and join him. “No, I was too much.” Theo’s head snaps to you. “You are not. I didn’t want those idiots to think I was whipped or soft or- so I said you were clingy, but you're not, if anything I am… I want you around 24/7.” Your eyes widen at his confession. “Soooo, you’re saying that ‘the’ Theodore Nott is so in love with me that he prefers cuddling over hanging with his friends.” Your boyfriend chuckles. “Yeah, so please just go back to reading in my arms and make me the happiest man alive.” You lean towards him and he meets your lips. The sweet kiss quickly turns passionate as you both fall back on the bed.

For the ones who asked to be tagged, here you go lovies: @ho3forfakeguys and @bitchoftoji

#mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #slytherin boys #slytherin #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #pepercorgiworldwritings

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rusmii · 2 months

Text

𓂃🦄. BSD MEN HITTIN' THAT G-SPOT !

chuuya, dazai, tecchou

tags. x fem!reader, smut, cockwarming, implied/referenced punishments, grinding, controlled sex, (hard) bite marks, almost caught, blowjob under desk, desk/office sex, jealousy, punishments, brats/brat taming, overstim, marking, lewd acts, praising, degrading, cock drunk/pussy drunk, breeding kink, fingering, clit stimulation, squirting, multiple rounds, kinda riding, petnames, multiple uses of profanity, BANNERS/DIVIDERS MADE BY ME.

ps. leave me alone my shit writing is making me depressed.

all credit on this post belongs to @rusmii . don't steal >:(((

rules (for m.list) | taglist: @luvan1 @bfdazai @asqmi @squigglewigglewoo @liviash @doonifox @ishqani @xxcandlelightxx @iheartpieck @ezelium @atsquie

" 'Zai," you whisper into his ear, the soft breeze making him shudder for a brief moment. "Yes, 'bella?" He asks, his eyes still on his suicide book that he was reading. An annoyed sigh came out from you. What made his suicide book that he's read over a gazillion times more important than you? You stood there beside him for a minute, thinking about how to get his attention on you next. Dazai on the other hand knew what you were aiming for. Your skimpy nightwear and lounge gaze was enough to tell him everything. And truth be told, he was also feeling the same way. "Osamu~" You say again, straddling his lap as you do so. "Can I cockwarm while you read? Pretty pleeaase?~"

"Why're you moving, darling?"

A lump formed a clog in your throat. The small question he asks you within a few minutes in already has you wishing that you'd never propose this idea to him. He flips a page, humming as he does so. The usual smile he has when he sees you is present on his face.

His cock sits nice and still inside you. The slight curve of his dick being the main culprit of your squirmish movements. " 'M no- 'm sorry." You can feel Dazai eyeing you, the lie you almost gave him making you swallow the lump inside your throat in fear. For a few seconds, Dazai doesn't do anything, his attention long gone from his book as you burrow your head into the crook of his neck.

Clutching his shoulder that you laid your head on, you could feel slight movement in it. Dazai hums lowly, letting you off the hook this time. "Hm~ Fine. Be a good girl, though, and don't let me catch you humping me like a dog. Understood?"

You clench your teeth. Whew, for a moment there you thought you were fucked there. Punishments with Dazai was unpredictable, and you didn't intend on passing dangerous territory just yet. "Yes sir." — "Good girl," he praises, his warm words making your pussy ache.

Your pussy clenches around his cock, the silent lewdness of the situation made it wetter as time went on. You close your eyes, attempting to focus on Dazai's humming. His melodious tune being able to calm even the scorchest of hot headed men. You sigh, subtly rocking your hips against his. The unreactive Dazai giving you more courage to keep grinding on his cock.

Eventually, you heard the book close. The sound makes you halt and pull away. "You done readin'?" You question him when you see your lover setting the book aside onto the lamp table. Dazai hums, his soft expression calming your beating heart. Just for a moment there, you thought he caught you — "About 56 times." He cuts you off.

What? What was he talking about? You look at him, making eye contact almost immediately. Though he does not say anything, his sly smile and slanted eyes do. Your eyes start darting to anywhere but him, moving to the wall behind him. "My eyes are here," he points to his face, his voice rephrasing what he said earlier, "About 56 times did you disobey my orders."

"I -.." Excuses start piling up inside your throat. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. He caught you, and there was nothing you could do about it. " 'I' What?" He mocks, the sinful smile he gives you was enough to have you breaking down. "I - I don't know! I -"

Endless blabber escapes from you. Dazai sits there and watches. Letting you cry out your frustration. He rubs the back of your head, a mocking coo leaving him. "Aw~ There, there darlin'. Don't cry, I promise I'm not that disappointed in you. You did your best, and I acknowledge that. Unfortunately, we both know that you could've done better." Bitter words come from him.

You were at a loss for words. No amount of crying and pleading was going to get you of your punishment now. Dazai doesn't wait for a response from you, though, pushing your chin up using his fingers. He was now eye to eye with you as he leaned forward, his head tilted to the side to line up with your lips. " 'M not gonna punish you too harshly. Despite you disobeying me, your grinding almost made me toss the book," Dazai admits, which makes your mouth drop open in surprise for just a split second.

"And for that - " He thrusts up hard. A loud moan escapes from your lips before you can muster any form of blockage. " - Ride for as long as you want." His smooth sailing words pur into your mouth. His own capturing yours into a soft, passionate kiss that matched the rhythm of your crotches grinding together. " 'Samu! - S- Osamu!" You moan his name, the tip of his dick rubbing against your bundle of nerves.

His eyes never leave yours. Every breathless grunt he lets out only spurs you on to bounce on his dick. The act makes him groan before he stops you from doing anymore. "Osamu..!" You whine, wondering why he stopped you. "No, I said for as long as you want. Not whatever you want."

You nod your head repeatedly, wanting to cum and get this over with. Dazai seems to agree so as well — using his hands to guide your hips. The slow grind making you cry tears of frustration. "Please! Please! - Osamu- Please! Please! - " — " Sh sh, I got you." Dazai reassures you, fastening the pace.

"Mmhm!~ Osamu! Osa - Osamu!!~" You squeal, his dick rutting inside your gushy cunt as he marks your neck made you see white. The tight clench of your walls made Dazai bite down a little too hard, tasting bits of iron in his mouth.

Dazai continues to grind his hips through your orgasm, feeling his own high building up. "Shit - Fuck! - cummincummin - Ghnn~" He groans into your neck. The pressure that had accumulated by your grinding earlier toppled down on his orgasm.

The white ribbon laced your walls deep inside you, the pressure of his dick pressing hard on your g-spot, giving you another orgasm. Hearing your second wave of squeals, Dazai uses a hand to rub your lower back, thrusting up slightly to help you ride out your second orgasm.

"Good - " He pants heavily, his flushed face with swollen lips, " - Good fucking girl, holy shit."

"And for -!" Chuuya hiced. His brain being thrown for a loop as he grips the new paperwork that was given to him by Akutagawa. Said man seems to notice his red face and questions him. "Sir, are you alright?" Chuuya waves him off, "Yeah - just.. - feeling a little hot in this room right now - how high did I set the temp again?" He laughs awkwardly and orders Akutagawa to go check. While Akutagawa is distracted, Chuuya looks down to find his pants unzipped and you sucking the tip of his dick. "Stop. Akutagawa is here. Let's do this when he's gone," he orders you, attempting to swat you hand away from his balls. But before he could do that, Akutagawa returned. "Sir, seems like the temperature is just below average - are you sure you're okay? — "YES! You - You may leave." Chuuya stutters on his words when he feels you engulf his entire dick into your mouth.

"You - " A slam of his hips has you spiraling into moans. " - Fucking - " Thrust " - Brat," he snarls above you. The nasaled expression on his face matching the rhythm of his hips.

"Chu-uuyaa!!~" You squeal, wrapping your legs around his waist as his dick plunges straight into your core — his dick hitting that spot every time he thrusts in. He groans, the feeling of your cunt wrapped around his cock perfectly could make him cum right then and there. "Yeah? That feel good? Fuck - bet that shit does." He slaps your thigh. "Brats like you shouldn't even be getting dicked down so good," he continues. His hips never faltering its rhythm.

"Good! Feels so good! Please Chu - Chu fuck me!" Affirming his accusations only made Chuuya more bricked than the hardest damn rock. All papers, pens, and other random shit had been thrown off his desk in a haste. He'd care about it when he was done with you. "Mhm..~ Ha! 'Dunno. Should brats like you get fucked like good girls? Hm?" He puncuates every word with a slow, sharp thrust. " 'Cause the whore 'm fuckin' is on Santa's naughty list right now."

You arch your back, the pleasure becoming overwhelming. You roll your head up as more nonsense came from you. His dick rubbed your spot intensely while grinding your crotches together. The sharp, angled, shallow thrusts almost, causing you to nearly shut one eye from losing control of most of your senses.

"Ahnn!~ - Yesss! Pleaaaasse - " You slur on your words, your tongue falling loose in your mouth. Chuuya tugs your arms to him and grips your wrists, sliding your body back and forth across the desk. "Chuuya! Chuuyachuuyachuuya!!!~" — "Fuck - keep moanin' my name like that and I might cum right now," he groans above you. His head was thrown back, face full of bliss.

Chuuya angles his dick again, making sure the tip and side of his length run against your g-spot. He hears another squeal, making a mental note to come back to this angle when he's fucked you silly.

Actually, scratch that — with how you're clinging your vices onto him so tightly, he can only assume that you were cumming right now. "Shiiit." A curse falls upon him when he finally notices the tight clench of your pussy. Chuuya didn't even realize you were having an orgasam until he saw your fucked out, lewd face. "Fuck - Oh fuck.." He grunts, slowing his thrusts as to hold out longer.

"Geez ‐ Shit - [Name], did anyone ever tell ya' how hot you look when you get all fucked out like that?" He asks, a grin spread from ear to ear. As soon as you catch your breath, you hum. "Yeah - you," you release a breathy laugh. "Me? Just me?" He asks again leaning down to give you a chaste kiss on the corner of your mouth. "Who else would I be letting raw dog me? Not Michi."

The casual mention of your coworkers nickname caught Chuuya's attention. "Michi? Tachihara? Since when the fuck did you and and that fucker get on friendly terms?" A shallow upturn thrust surprises you. "Huh - Gh~ - What? Me and him have always been on friendly terms - Ogh!~"

"That's such fucking bullshit 'n you and I both know it." Chuuya interrupts you, thrusting into your cunt again. "W-wait!~ Chu-uya!" You moan. "You wanted me to fuck you like the dirty street slut you are — I'm gonna fuck you like a damn bitch in heat waitin' for a new batch of litter."

Never one to go back on his word, Chuuya picks up his pace, not caring about his rhythm. He aims for the same spot that has you crushing boulders when poked there. "Chuuya!~ Please! Please! T'much! So - " — " - Cut that shit out, overstim is your favorite pass time activity." His balls slap your ass from how deep he's inside you. "Don't wanna hear you give me that 'too much' crap. Yer' perfectly capable of handling 'nother few orgasms."

He was right. Fuck — Chuuya was so right. The mini act you put on was nothing but a facade of how you were feeling internally.

Lewd images racked your brain. The visual thought of Chuuya breeding you straight up was enough to get your pussy pulsing in a matter of seconds. "Fuckfuck! Chuuya! Please, 'm gonna cum!! Gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna cummm!!~" Chuuya grunts above you, sweat dripping down him. "Fuck - you feel so fuc-kin' good! Sweetheart ya' feel so fuck - ughhn!~"

At the very last moment, Chuuya angles his dick exactly like how it got you to cum right away. Your jaw drops open, your eyes roll back, and your back arches into Chuuya's chest as he leans down to burrow his head into your neck. "Mhm~ mmm - 'm cummin - shit - 'm cummin' doll." Was your only warning before you felt his cum sticking to your walls. The creamy goop being fucked deeper as he rides out both of your orgasms with slowing thrusts.

A few more shallow thrusts, and you two are whining in overstimulation, Chuuya quieter than you. He pulls away when he feels your legs unwrap from his waist, watching them dangle to the side in exhaustion.

He pants heavily. His face is bright red and messy hair is a perfect image to burn into your memory.

"Chuuya," you call out to him, way out of breath to even talk. "Yeah?"

"You do remember that you were the one who forced me and Tachihara on friendly terms, right?"

"..... Oh yeah." He scratches the back of his head before pulling out to slap his dick on your cunt. "Givin' you a break before we continue," he winks — readjusting the position of your body.

"You wanna what?" Tecchou answers your question with another question. "Wanna get fingered so hard until I black the fuck out," you shrug your shoulders. The request wasn't expected, just a suggestion to spicen up your guys sex life — that was a lie, it was because you saw him flexing his fingers the other day and couldn't get the image of him being past knuckle deep inside your cunt out of your head!

"Hnn!!~" You squeal, the fingers prodding gently against your g-spot pulling the second orgasm out of your for the night.

Tecchou doesn't say anything, pulling his fingers out to stare at it. You glance at him, wondering what he had in plan. "Tecchou?" You get up on your elbows, eyes full of concern. Did you cross a line? Was this too much? Before you could ask any of the questions that popped up in your head, Tecchou slips his fingers into his mouth — fingers coated in your slick.

He sucks on his fingers, his tongue webbing around each one that was inside of you. "Tecchou.. What the fuck..?" You said, shock filling your brain as you watched him finger fuck his own mouth with your arousal.

He hums, his fingers coming out with a pop as he pushes you back down on the bed. "Tecchou, what the fuck was that? Why did you just - " — "Why is this a problem but not my face between your thighs?"

Speechless, you turn your head away. The thundering pump of your heart is not helping with thinking of anything to retort back. When Tecchou receives no answer from you, he drops his hand down to your clit — the gentle press bringing you back to earth. "third round?" He asks as he circles around your clit.

"Y-yeah -" Your breath hitched when he slipped three fingers inside your sopping cunt. The stretch of thick, veiny fingers stuffed up your pussy was almost enough to push in two mini didlos in there. You moan, a loud one that encouraged Tecchou to continue with what he was doing. " 'Gonna slip a fourth one. Can you do it?" A question for consent before he makes room for another finger.

"Mhm," you nod, already feeling the finger joining the others. Hissing, you bit your lip. The pain was mild, but the slight burn of the stretch made your eyes water a bit. "Hm," He hums again. "Relax, you're going to make me hurt you." His fingers still inside, not once moving until he feels you unclench around them. "Mm - I'm trying."

Tecchou doesn't seem to be happy with that response. "Don't force yourself." Was all he said before you felt him shift his fingers around. What came next was a gasp being ripped from you and another curl to the same spot. "T-Tecchou!~" You moan, feeling your spot being prodded at. The soft pressure he applies every time he presses down makes you squirm a bit. "I can feel you getting tighter. Does it feel good?" He asks, voice soft and gentle.

"Yes! Please!" You bring a hand down to your clit, rubbing it in a way that gives you the most pleasure. Tecchou's speed increases, the fingers curling inside all hitting the same spot. Your hips start to shake, the pressure of your approaching orgasm building up in your abdomen. "Te-Tec-hou!~" Hiccups escape through your sobs. Tears streaming down your cheeks due to the pleasure.

" 'M - cummin' - 'M cummin' !" Your body squirms. Tecchou pins you to the bed, fingering as fast as he can. "You can do it." The first praise of the night being whispered so lightly. His usual blank expression is now a mix of proudness and adoration. "C-can't! T'much! Too much!" You sniffle, pulling your arm back for better support. Tecchou takes it upon himself to do the job for you, using both of his hands, he plunges straight into you — simultaneously adding a fifth finger when he sees the puddle you made. His other hand doing the same gentle circles around your clit.

And finally, after a few minutes — the blockage in your abdomen snapped. The floodgates of your cum squirting out clear fluid as Tecchou re-angled his hand. "Ghhhh~ Ohhggg...!" You whine, your legs threatening to kick as you slightly lift your body off the bed.

Tecchou watches mesmerized by your shot, aiming at his chest directly. The clear fluid dripping down his pecks and into his abs below. "Woah.... That was so hot."

hi was gonna originally write nikolai + fukuzawa but didn't have motivation for them :(... I did start out nikolais but don't even get me started on fukuzawa.... here's a snippet of nikolais

do you guys want me to write a pt2 with fuku+niko??

#i went ham on chuuyas part #🖇. writings #spent all day writing this from start to finish #dazai x reader #chuuya x reader #tecchou x reader #chuuya smut #dazai smut #tecchou smut #bsd x reader #bsd smut #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs smut

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m0chaminx · 5 months

Text

Coriolanus Snow | Roses Grow Thorns

*•.¸♡Request: Pls pls pls do a part 2 too the snow x reader fix it was so amazing and I want more of them 🙏🙏🙏🙏‼️‼️🩷

*•.¸♡Prompts: none

*•.¸♡Warnings: Coriolanus, Cori isn't insane (ish), Snow is slight ooc, jealousy, hurt comfort, fluff ending

*•.¸♡Paring: Coriolanus Snow x F!reader

*•.¸♡Summary: Coriolanus learns his favourite flower grows thorns

You confront Coriolanus about his relationship with Lucy Gray

*•.¸♡Words: 2k

Part 1

People danced, swaying with their partners in a circle as you stood on stage, strumming your guitar and singing to the crowd. Lucy had just finished the first half of her set, so you took the stage to fill the silence. Coriolanus sat with Sejanus at a table across the room, large glasses of some sort of liquor. Coriolanus looked up at you and smiled.

If you like your coffee hot

Let me be your coffee pot

You call the shots, babe

I just wanna be yours

Your voice trailed off slightly as Lucy raced to Coriolanus and Sejanus, throwing her arm around his shoulder and leaning between them. You shook your head and continued to play, trying to ignore Lucy Gray practically hanging from Coriolanus’s arm.

Jealousy, an unwelcome guest, clawed at the edges of your heart, leaving an ache in your chest. No words had been exchanged, and no actions had passed between you two. It overtook the corners of your mind, urging you to believe that Lucy Gray should sense the unspoken connection threading its way between you and Coriolanus.

Each shared trip to the lake, every stolen moment when Coriolanus chose to spend his fleeting free hours with you — these fragments of time saved in your mind like photos in an old book. Yet, as you observed Lucy Gray standing there, a vision of radiant smiles and hushed confidences exchanged with Coriolanus, a wave of emotion surged. It was as if the world momentarily lost its colour, and the whispers of uncertainty left an indelible mark on your heart.

You clenched your hand, trying to ease the shaking in your hands.

Secrets I have held in my heart

Are harder to hide than I thought

Maybe I just wanna be yours

Every night for the past week following that evening, Coriolanus Snow would tap gently on the glass of your window. You would turn your head and he would smile, the same bright smile that made your stomach flip and fill with butterflies. You crept across the wood floors and opened the window, looking down at the blue-eyed boy. “Are you busy?”

You would simply laugh at him. You grabbed your coat and slipped out the window, Coriolanus gripping your waist to help you down properly. He would smile, slip a scarf under the window to close it without locking it and you would slip away unnoticed, descending into the velvety embrace of the night.

In those quiet moments, Coriolanus would slip your hand in his own, his warm hand covering yours as he laced your fingers together. He guided you through the dense labyrinth of woods, you knew these woods better than he did but through the nights as he led you to the lake, you questioned if you ever knew them at all.

The Mokingjays sang into the night as if calling to the small fireflies to light the way. “I brought matches,” Cori said, looking back at you. He tugged on your hand bringing you closer and you couldn't help but think about Lucy Gray running her hand along his shoulders. “We can light a fire. Maybe catch some fish.” You nodded and Coriolanus smiled.

You reached the lake and Coriolanus set his bag down, quickly gathering everything to start a fire. You walked to the edge of the water, your mind running faster than you could even start to comprehend. “Think we’ll catch anything?” He asked, stopping to look up at you.

You looked back over the water, looking at the fish no bigger than your palm swimming just above the sea floor. You shook your head, keeping your eyes on the moonlight dancing on the waves of the water. “Nothing big enough to eat,” You said. Coriolanus nodded and turned back to the fire.

Once the fire was made you sat on the ground beside him, leaving enough space so your shoulders didn’t touch. You both sat in silence, Coriolanus’s knee bouncing softly.

The flames danced and flickered, the golden glow flickering in Coriolanus’s blue eyes, you settled onto the ground beside him. You shifted slightly, making sure your shoulders didn't touch. The silence stretched between you, Coriolanus's fingers drumming against a stick he held in nervousness.

Coriolanus's knee bounced softly, mirroring the unsteady rhythm of both your hearts. The mere inches that separated you felt like an unbridgeable chasm, as long and confusing as his thoughts. “Did I do something?” His voice cut through the silence like a knife and you turned towards him, your eyebrows furrowed. “You seem distracted. You’re not talking like you usually do. You’re sitting far away.” You bit your lip and shrugged softly. “What’s wrong?”

“What did I sing tonight?” You turned to face Coriolanus. “Tonight. I sang, I wore the red dress so everyone could see the white rose you gave me. But what did I sing?” Coriolanus stammered. “You don’t spare a second glance at me during our shows, you talk to Sejanus when I do perform and you let Lucy Gray hang off your arm like she was yours.”

He spoke your name softly, trying to shuffle closer but you stood quickly. “Don’t do that Cori,” You pleaded. “I’m gonna go home, I’ll see you later.” You turned on your heel. Making your way back through the woods.

Coriolanus sighed, dropping his head into his hands as you walked from his view.

The next morning you stared at the ceiling, stretched out on your small bed. You twisted a small rose between your fingers, the thrones pricking your skin occasionally. The knock at the window made you jump. You turned your head to look at Coriolanus standing on the other side, smiling ever so slightly. You sighed and set the rose aside before walking to the window and pulling it open. “Corio-”

“Don’t talk,” he said quickly. “Don’t say anything, just follow me.”

“Cori-”

“What did I just say?”

A frustrated huff escaped you as you forcefully closed the window, shutting out the annoying sounds of crickets. Pulling the blinds closed with a swift motion covering Coriolanus’s face, but you caught his smile dropping. You donned your jacket and stepped out the front door, stopping in front of Coriolanus just as you turned the corner. He extended his hand, a warm smile playing on his lips. Suppressing the annoyance that still simmered beneath the surface, you offered a muted response, "Just lead the way," your words carrying a hint of resignation.

Coriolanus nodded and started to lead you through the woods, the sun still yet to rise properly. “You sang I Wanna Be Yours,” Coriolanus muttered. “No, I didn't ask Lucy Gray. You wrote it after you met your old girlfriend but you haven't sung it since. That’s why it was so important to you. And why you wanted me to remember it.”

You hummed and tried to hide your smile. “So you were paying attention.”

Coriolanus spoke, low and earnest, his gaze fixed on you. "I always pay attention," he assured, a sincerity etched into his words. The weight of his gaze, coupled with the firmness in his tone, sought to reassure you. "And nothing is happening between Lucy Gray and me. She was helping me with something," he explained, his words carrying the weight of truth and an unspoken plea for understanding.

“Which is?”

Coryo smiled, “Keep following me.”

You followed Coriolanus, walking in silence until the sun rose completely. He stopped at a rock wall, a small dirt trail winding around it. He reached out, slipping his hand into yours and leading you down the track. “Roses don’t grow in 12, the ground is too hard,” Coriolanus started. “Lucy Gray told me just beyond the rock wall there is ground soft enough to grow flowers. Sejanus used his father's money to get some seed and…” Coriolanus stepped aside as you reached the bottom of the track.

You smiled, Coriolanus’s hand slipping from yours as you stepped further into the growing rose field. Dozens of rose bushes had started to grow, small red and white flowers sporting. Small raindrops covered the flowers, the sun reflecting off of them like diamonds. You crouched, smiling as you ran your hand along the rose petals.

A soft smile played on your lips, and Coriolanus's hand tenderly released yours as you ventured deeper into the growing rose field. Rows of rose bushes, adorned with tiny red and white blossoms, unfold before you, blossoming like a garden from the Capitol. Small raindrops adorned the delicate petals, capturing the sunlight in a dance that shined like diamonds. Your heart swelled. You glanced back at Coriolanus who shared the same smile.

You carefully crouched down, your smile growing as you traced the velvet texture of the rose petals with your fingertips, each delicate touch slow and careful as if the rose would fall apart. Coriolanus smiled as he watched you, his stomach filling with butterflies as he waited for you to speak.

"Wait..." The urgency in your voice sliced through the air as you stood, swiftly pivoting to face Coriolanus. His smile disappeared, replaced by a stark seriousness mirrored in your eyes. Your heart fell to your stomach as your voice shook, "You said Sejanus got the seeds from his father. If the Peacemakers find out, they'll take you away." The gravity of your words hung heavily in the charged atmosphere. “Cori, they’ll take you to the hanging tree-”

“They won’t,” Coriolanus said quickly. He stepped forward holding your face in his hands, his thumb tracing the lines of your cheekbones. “No one is going to take me away. No one is taking you. Or Sejanus, or Lucy Gray.” You raised your hand, settling it on top of his. “This place is ours, yours and mine. No one is going to take that.”

Yours and mine.

You smiled, laughing softly as you looked up at Coriolanus, his blue eyes meeting yours. “You got me roses?” You asked.

“You said you liked the Capitol flowers more,” Coriolanus remembered. “I can’t exactly take you to the Capitol, so I thought I’d bring the best part of the Capitol here.”

“Besides yourself.”

A warm smile graced his features as he leaned in, closing the distance until his forehead gently met yours. "Do people in the Capitol kiss differently than the districts?" His inquiry, spoken in a hushed tone, carried a hint of curiosity and a touch of playfulness.

“I think…” you leaned up slightly, bumping your nose against his, “you should find out.”

The brush of his fingertips against your jawline, tracing a delicate path along your skin, igniting a shiver that danced down your spine. As he cradled your face, your breath hitched in anticipation, your eyes staring at his chapped pink lips. Drawing you closer, the final shared breath seemed to linger, suspended in the charged atmosphere, before he sealed the connection with a kiss that felt like a spark that lit a fire. Your heart echoed the rhythm of the thousands of times you had dreamed of this moment and your hands instinctively wound around the back of his neck, the embrace pulling him closer.

Your stomach twirled, filling with butterflies as one of Coryo’s hands moved to wrap around your waist and pull you impossibly closer. He pulled away, his breath coming out in small pants, your breath in sync with his. You opened your eyes, looking up at his half-closed eyes tracing over every part of your face. “I love you, Coriolanus Snow.”

He whispered it back.

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#m0chaminx #coriolanus snow x reader #young coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x lucy gray #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow x you #the hunger games #hunger games #ballad of songbirds and snakes #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #Spotify

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scuderiahoney · 3 months

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Puzzle Piece

Lando Norris x best friend!reader

Masterlist

Summary: You’re always drawn to Lando. He’s always happy to have you near him. Finally, the pieces might just click into place. Based off this request.

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: alcohol/intoxication

You turn up on your best friend’s doorstep, heels in hand, one of the straps of your dress falling down your shoulder. It only takes a light knock, and then you hear footsteps, the clock of the lock. Lando swings the door open, an amused smile already on his lips.

“Hi, hun,” he says in a teasing tone. “You’ve had a good night, huh?”

You roll your eyes at him. “Can I come in?”

“F’course,” he says, ushering you inside with a hand pressed to your upper back. “Did you walk here?”

You nod. He sighs. It’s a cycle. You can almost predict word for word what he’ll say next. Should’ve just called me-

“- I would’ve picked you up,” he says, as if he’s finishing your train of thought. “And you walked here barefoot? Are you-“

“Crazy?” You say, at the same time as him. “No. Just tired, ‘nd my feet hurt.”

You walk into the living room and collapse onto the couch with a heavy sigh. He does the same, sitting next to you. You shiver when his fingers brush against your shoulder, directing the strap of your dress back into place. He reaches up and tucks a piece of hair behind your ear after that. You lean into the touch.

“Did you have fun?” He asks.

He knows you were out with friends tonight, dinner and drinks and dancing. You nod, lifting your feet off the floor and placing them on the couch. He reaches out and sweeps your legs across his lap, and you sigh happily. Then he tosses a blanket over the two of you.

“Yeah. Sadie found a guy, though, so she left early. And Madi had way too many shots. Had to call her boyfriend to come get her,” you say. “Oh, I ran into your coworker. He bought me a drink.”

Lando wrinkles his nose at that. “Which one?”

You open your mouth to answer, but you fumble for the name. You furrow your brows, sliding farther down into the couch. Lando lets out a squeaky laugh.

“He bought you a drink and you don’t even remember his name?” He asks incredulously.

“I know his name,” you scoff, rubbing your cheek. “I just. I’m drunk, Lan.”

He laughs, reaches out, wraps his arm around your shoulders. He pulls you in, and you go willingly. Happily, even. You rest your head between his jaw and his shoulder, burrowing into the warmth of his skin.

“Pierre,” you tell him.

Lando scoffs. “Pierre has a girlfriend.”

“Never said he bought me a drink and asked me out or anything,” you say, rolling your eyes. “Just that he bought me a drink.”

Lando laughs again and rests his chin atop your head. You melt against him. He rubs your back gently, hand bumping over the low back of your dress and your bare skin.

“You staying the night?” He asks.

You nod sleepily against him. “If it’s alright.”

“Always is,” he says quietly.

On the nights you go out, you end up at Lando’s place more often than you end up at your own. Whether he’s out with you or waiting at home, you head towards him, like a beacon to your drunk mind. How can you help it, really, when he holds you like this, when he’s warm and soft, when he gives you clothes to wear and food and water and tucks you into bed? Of course you want to be with him.

He rubs a thumb over your cheek. “You hungry?”

You nod, biting back a yawn. He laughs again, that light little sound that makes your heart warm. He nudges your shoulder lightly.

“There’s clothes in the guest room for you,” he says, nodding towards the hallway. “Go change and I’ll get you some food, yeah?”

You nod, untangling yourself from him and stretching as you get up off the couch. He squeezes your hip as you do so. You stumble your way towards the guest room on aching feet. The bed is made, one of your favorite blankets laid across the bottom. There’s one of his shirts, a pair of shorts, and a hoodie all laid out for you on the bed, too. There’s even a pair of socks, folded neatly there. He must’ve assumed you’d show up eventually, since he knew you were going out tonight.

Suddenly, your heart is racing. You’re not sure why, can’t pinpoint it in your hazy state. Something to do with the way he takes care of you. You change, leaving the dress laying on the floor, feeling much more comfortable in his clothing. You make your way back to the living room, then towards the kitchen when you hear him there.

He’s at the stove, staring through the glass door. When you peer into it, too, you see a frozen pizza baking. You smile and drape yourself against his back, wrapping your arms around his middle. He sighs happily.

“This is why you’re my favorite,” you murmur.

“Mm. That’s why you come over, huh?” He says. “Not to see me, it’s the food.”

You laugh, squeeze your arms around him. “No. I come over to see you. The rest is an added bonus.”

He turns in your arms and pulls you into his chest, a bright smile on his face. “Okay. I’ll take that.”

You eat dinner with him, or really, a very late snack. Or an early, early breakfast. Then he gets you a glass of water and herds you towards the guest room. He takes the glass back just before you flop backwards onto the mattress with a laugh. He lifts your legs for you by the ankles to get you fully into the bed, peels back the blankets so he can tuck you in. You tug at his hip until he sits down next to you. He sweeps stray hair from your forehead as you blink slowly.

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” he says softly.

“Love you, Lan,” you mutter, eyes closed.

“Love you too,” he says, barely above a whisper.

Five minutes later, probably when he thinks you’ve fallen asleep, he says, “more than you know. I love you more than anything.”

Then he leaves the room. You open your eyes and stare at the ceiling, wondering if you’ve dreamed it all.

…..

A week later, Lando opens his front door expecting pizza, and instead finds you. He blinks wildly, trying to figure out exactly what’s going on. He hadn’t known you were going out tonight, but here you are at his front door, very obviously drunk. In fact, as he takes in the look on your face, the dullness of your gaze, he thinks you’re beyond drunk. Wasted. Blacked out, maybe. His stomach churns uncomfortably.

“Baby,” he says softly, watching the way your face melts into a soft smile. “You okay? You didn’t tell me you were going out.”

You shrug. “Didn’t.”

You slip past him and into the apartment. He follows closely behind, frowning. He swears he can smell the vodka on your skin- like the nail polish remover his sisters used growing up. He closes the door behind the two of you and reaches for your wrist.

“Hey,” he says, as you stumble into his chest and sigh. “Are you okay?”

You shrug again in response. He fights the urge to groan loudly. He takes your face in his hands and tilts it up towards him. You blink slowly, eyes wide and staring blankly back at him.

“How much did you have to drink?” He asks.

You shrug. Worry sinks into his chest, makes a home there. He runs a thumb across the smooth skin under your eye. He hates to see you like this.

“A lot, huh?” He asks.

Finally, a nod instead of a shrug. He cocks his head at you.

“But you didn’t go out?”

You shake your head.

“Why did you drink a lot, by yourself, at home?” He asks.

You return to your signature shrug. This time he does groan. He lets go of your face, though, and takes you by the shoulders and spins you slowly. He decides it’s best to get you sitting down, so he leads you to the living room, to your spot on the couch. You collapse there, but the usual soft, comfortable smile is missing from your face. He frowns down at you.

You reach out and tug on his shirt. He knows what you’re asking and he goes willingly, happily. He sinks down onto the couch next to you with a soft sigh and pulls you into his chest. You fit there perfectly, like always, like his favorite puzzle piece. He feels so much more at peace when he has you tucked against him. He reaches out and pulls your legs into his lap, curling protectively around you.

“You wanna talk about whatever made you sad enough to get this drunk on a random Tuesday?” He asks, softly.

You shrug and sniffle. His heart clenches in his chest. He hates to see you sad.

“M’fine,” you insist.

He’s not sure what else he expected- you’re blackout drunk, it’s not like you’re going to hold a whole conversation with him. But still, he has to try. He feels a tear drip onto his collarbone and he knows something’s terribly wrong. It’s breaking his heart.

“Baby,” he says, softly. “What’s going on?”

You pull away, blink up at him. “I’m hungry.”

He huffs, knowing that’s not the full story. “Good news. I’ve already got pizza on the way.”

You smile widely, the first smile he’s pulled from you since you showed up at his door. He wipes a stray tear from your cheek, and you smile at him despite it. Then you tuck yourself back into him. He sighs and decides it can wait. He lets you stay there until the doorbell rings- the pizza is here.

He leaves you on the couch while he retrieves the food, and then goes to rejoin you in the living room. He doesn’t bother with plates, knowing you won’t care. Except when he returns, you’re gone, and he frowns. He calls your name and gets no response, but then he hears a noise from the kitchen and goes to investigate.

You’re standing at the fridge, a bottle of vodka in your hand. You stare widely at him, a deer caught in the headlights.

“Baby,” he says softly. “I don’t think you need any more alcohol.”

“The pizza’s gonna sober me up,” you tell him with a frown.

He tries to rub away the ache in his chest, but it doesn’t work. “Yeah, sweetheart. S’kinda the point.”

You frown at him, but when he walks over, you let him take the bottle and put it back in the fridge. He leans in and grabs you a can of soda instead. Then he slips his hand into yours and leads you back to the living room. You follow him reluctantly.

After a couple slices of pizza and a can of soda, you fall asleep against his shoulder. He lets you rest for a bit, until his arm starts to fall asleep and his own eyelids grow heavy. Then he lifts you up carefully and carries you to the guest room, tucking you in with a kiss to your forehead. You stir at the touch.

“I love you, Lan,” you tell him, half asleep, eyes still shut.

“Yeah, honey, love you too.” He answers.

“Not the same,” you say, barely a whisper.

He wants to ask you what you mean, what that could possibly mean, but you’re fast asleep again within seconds. He lays awake in his own bed for hours after, worry gnawing at his gut over the tears in your eyes and the pain on your face. He knows in the morning you’ll tell him you were just drunk, that’s you’re fine. You’ll plaster a smile on your face and try to make him believe you . But he can’t shake the feeling that something is really wrong.

…..

The next time you show up at his door, you’re in a much better mood. He opens the door with a grin, and you lean towards him immediately, trusting that he’ll catch you. He does, of course, letting out a soft oof as your head makes impact on his shoulder.

“Geez, okay, let’s get inside before you start falling over,” he suggests.

He takes hold of your shoulders and drags you inside. You’re giggling as you trip over your own feet and his, too.

“Look, I made it here with my shoes on,” you say, pointing out the sneakers on your feet.

He laughs. “Proud of you, baby.”

You laugh again, leaning heavily on him as you throw your arms around his neck. Your nose drags along his jaw. He smells nice, familiar. You could stay right here forever.

“I like when you call me that,” you admit, the words tumbling off your drunk lips. “Baby.”

Lando sighs, resting his hands gently on your hips. “Okay, baby, let’s get you sitting down, yeah? And maybe some food and water. I think someone’s a bit drunk.”

You whine into his skin, laughing at the way he shivers. You press your nose to his collarbone as he tries to walk you backwards towards the living room. He laughs and does his best to keep you both steady, but when you tug on his arm you both end up tumbling over. Lando, quick reflexes and all, manages to direct both of you into the couch. He lands halfway on top of you, and you sigh happily.

“This is nice,” you mumble, wrapping your arms around his middle.

“You’ve had wine tonight, haven’t you?” He asks, voice low.

You nod against his chest. “How’d you know?”

He laughs. “Because you’re a clingy wine drunk. Vodka makes you sad, and seltzers make you bubbly.”

You sigh in response and try to pull him closer. He’s wearing a t-shirt with a worn out neckline- you press your cheek to the sliver of skin on his chest that’s left bare for you. The warmth of him is comforting, his skin is soft against yours. He groans softly, and then the whole world is moving around you- Lando flips the two of you over on the couch, so he’s laying under you, and you rest against his chest.

“D’you want food?” He asks, running his hand over the top of your head.

“Mmm, no, not hungry,” you say.

“Thirsty?” He asks.

“Not for water,” you say. It slips out before you can really even think about it.

“Well, you’re not having more alcohol,” he says.

“S’not what I meant,” you say.

He sputters out a laugh, chokes your name out in the middle of it. You dissolve into giggles, burying your head in his chest. And it’s funny, really, but he’s so warm and soft against you, and you love him, you have for a while, and two times ago when you were drunk he said he loved you more than anything. Now you’re wine drunk and clingy, and you want to kiss him so badly.

You lift your head, fold your hands on his chest, and rest your chin on top of them. “You should kiss me.”

He laughs, presses a silly kiss to your forehead, complete with a cheesy mwah. You roll your eyes.

“A real kiss,” you insist. “Like you love me.”

He blinks softly at you, eyes going wide. You keep the smile on your face- it’s all your drunk mind knows how to do. You know you’ll probably regret this in the morning, but you stare at him anyway. It’s too late now.

“You said you love me more than anything,” you tell him.

He frowns slightly. “I thought you were asleep,” he says.

“I wasn’t,” you shrug. “Is it true? Cause ‘f it is, you should kiss me.”

Lando stares at you, eyes even wider now. His cheeks are flushed, lips parted. You start to wonder if you’ve made a huge mistake- he’s your best friend, and here you are, showing up at his place drunk, asking him to kiss you.

“Baby,” he says, softly, tenderly, gently. “You’re drunk.”

“But you said-“ you cut yourself off, squeeze your eyes shut. “You said-“

“I know what I said,” he says softly. “And I’m not taking it back or saying it isn’t true. But I’m not going to have this talk while you’re drunk, and I’m definitely not kissing you while you’re drunk.”

You let out a huff. He laughs and runs his thumb against your cheek. You open your eyes to stare at him, then turn your head to press your lips against the heel of his hand. He gives you a wobbly smile.

“Stay the night,” he suggests, voice breathy. “And we’ll have breakfast tomorrow and talk about it all, yeah?”

You nod, eyes growing watery. Lando pouts at you. He leans close and kisses your cheek sweetly, his hand still holding the side of your face.

You follow him to the bedroom shortly afterwards, and he tucks you into the guest bed. You fight to keep your eyes open as he sits on the edge of the bed and rubs his hand over your shoulder.

“We’ll talk tomorrow?” You ask, softly. “Promise you’ll remind me?”

He nods, chewing on his lower lip. “Promise.”

He kisses your forehead just before you fall asleep. You dream about him, like you almost always do.

…..

You wake up in the morning to sunlight streaming through the windows. Anxiety has already made its home in your chest. You remember everything from the night before, every last bit. You wonder if Lando is hoping you don’t. If he wishes you’d never showed up to his place. Maybe he’ll pretend nothing happened, and the two of you can just move past it. That would make all of this easier.

You roll out of bed, brush your teeth, and decide it’s time to face the music. You can hear actual music playing faintly in the kitchen, so you go to find Lando. He’s humming along, bobbing his head to the beat as he cooks something on the stove. You stop in the doorway to watch.

“I know you’re there,” he says without even turning to look. “Come sit. I’m making breakfast.”

You wander over to the kitchen counter, sliding a barstool out and perching yourself on it. You stare at the back of his head, trying to get any sort of information out of his body language. You can read him so well, usually, but this feels more complicated. He hasn’t even looked at you. Your stomach churns with anxiety.

“Lan,” you say, softly, watching the way his shoulders tense. “Did I annoy you last night?”

He finally turns, eyes meeting yours. “What do you remember?”

You shrug. His eyes trace your face, wide and bright. You can’t read his expression, can’t tell what he’s feeling. He promised he’d remind you. But this is his out- maybe you should let him have it. If he doesn’t want to talk about it, that probably means he doesn’t feel the same. And that would be okay, really. You’ll get over it eventually.

He sets the spatula down on the counter. He drums his fingers against the surface before he turns fully towards you. He holds onto the edge and leans forward, tilting in your direction.

“You didn’t annoy me,” he says, softly.

He tilts his head at you. He releases the counter and stumbles a couple steps forward, landing in front of where you’re sitting on the stool. A small smile crosses his lips, the first hint of an emotion that you’ve caught from him all morning. When his hand comes up to hold the side of your face, you hold your breath.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks, voice low.

You swallow and nod. “Please.”

Everything feels brighter when his lips touch yours. The sun shines through the window, and you feel warm all over. He’s soft and warm against you, his hands holding your face, and you wrap your fingers in his t-shirt to pull him closer. He steps between your legs with a muffled laugh, nips at your lower lip, slides his hands down your neck and shoulders until they fall to rest on your waist. You press yourself against him, and he does the same.

He breaks away for just a moment, lips against your cheek as he says, “I don’t know if you remember, but you said you loved me. And I just need you to know I love you, too. Like- as more than a friend, yeah?”

“Yeah, Lan,” you agree, kissing his jaw. He lets out a sharp whine. “I love you more than anything.”

The bacon is burning on the stovetop. Eventually, one of you will have to do something about that. But for now, he kisses you again, and you can’t bring yourself to care.

When he finally does pull away, he turns off the stove, discards the burnt food, and orders takeout breakfast for both of you. Then he turns to you, eyes sparkling.

“From now on,” he says, fingers holding onto your hips, “call me when you go out and get too drunk to make it home, yeah? I’ll pick you up. That’s what boyfriends do.”

You laugh and then nod in agreement. “I guess I could do that. That would be the right thing to do, as your girlfriend.”

He kisses your forehead. You tuck yourself into his chest. The puzzle clicks into place.

a/n: Lando has been on my mind a lot lately, so here we go! First little bit of dialogue updated after his tweet to Charles lolll

Taglist: @4-mula1 @celestialams @struggling-with-delia @lovekt @i-wish-this-was-me @forzalando @iloveyou3000morgan

#lando norris x you #lando norris x reader #lando norris fic #lando Norris oneshot #Lando Norris fluff #Lando Norris friends to lovers #f1 fluff #f1 oneshot #f1 fic #formula one x reader #formula one x you #formula one oneshot #formula 1 fluff #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 oneshot #formula 1 fic #x reader #honeywrites

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tteokdoroki · 4 months

Text

VOICEMAILS AND DIAL TONES - yuuta okkotsu.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

maki zenin.

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

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

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

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

but you were never strong when it came to him.

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

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

this isn’t like him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

be close to one another.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“yeah?”

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

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

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

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

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

“really? you don’t look like it.”

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

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

needs it more than he needs you.

“okay.” you say simply, blankly.

“okay.” he says back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

without you.

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

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

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

“i’m always here for you, yuuta.”

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

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

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

“i love you too.”

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

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

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

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

“oooh, she’s pretty. who is that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“and?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

there were no secrets, no major ones.

until now.

“he’s got a girlfriend, yanno…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

yuuta - 8:34AM: who’s yuuji?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“never?” you ask, hiccuping.

“never.” he moans.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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ncroissant · 1 month

Note

I was feeling a little silly :3 (I wrote a whole ass fanfic on Sub! Francis Mosses :|)

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You sighed, the sound of your door unlocking echoing in the vast silence of the hallway. Stepping inside your apartment, you closed the door behind you, before taking off your coat. A breath of relief escaped your throat. Work had been particularly unforgiving today, and you were glad to finally be home and away from it all.

You hung your jacket on the hook that stood on the plain wall before you. You slipped your shoes off your aching feet, a delightful scent wafting your way. You perked up. A smile tugged at your lips. Despite the hardships you faced daily at your bore of a job, you could always count on one thing at the end of the day: your beloved husband, Francis Mosses.

“Darling?” a call resounded from the kitchen, enunciated in that tired, gravelly voice that you had grown to love.

“I’m home! Just give me a second, dear,” your response was short lived, as you heard hurried footsteps in your direction.

Before you could blink, two warm arms had wrapped themselves around you, breaking you away from the real world if only for a couple moments. And just as soon as they had appeared, they were gone. You could feel your beloved husband dutifully remove the rest of your work attire before those same warm hands guided you towards the living room.

“How was work, my love?” a gentle tone graced your hearing, followed by a ginger peck on your cheek.

You let out a tired chuckle, “The same as always,” you sighed, taking a seat on the couch, “John can’t keep his mouth shut and Mary’s always on my trail.”

There’s a droop in Francis’s tone. “That woman from HR?”

You’re too tired to speak so instead you just nod in response, the weight of your day creeping up on you.

“Well, don’t worry about that now, love,” you feel his palm cup your cheek, heat bouncing off his skin and onto your own as he turns your head ever so gently. Your gazes are locked together now; a faint sparkle in Francis’s.

“I made your favorite.” the words are uttered so softly that you would not be able to catch them if you weren’t paying full attention to him. The tenderness of the moment overwhelms you, and you can do nothing but smile at the man that had stolen your heart. He returns the expression whole-heartedly.

You feel his warmth break apart from you abruptly, and your eyes trail after Francis as he heads towards the kitchen. The aroma is much stronger now.

You can’t help but feel a sense of gratitude as you get up to follow him.

—————————————————

“Hic—wait—not there-mmgf~!” your husband’s eyes roll back into his head for the umpteenth time tonight, a dizzying flush coating his body.

Your hand is wrapped relentlessly around Francis’s cock, erect and leaking uncontrollably. He lets a gasp as your thumb begins to rub over his slit, a keen clawing at his throat. Your touch glides almost painfully slow across his tip, and the poor man doesn’t know whether to buck into your touch or away from it…it’s just too good.

Instead, his hands paw uselessly at your sides. A series of hiccups escape him from all the crying he’s done, and you lap up the sounds like a man in the desert. You absolutely loved how vocal Francis was. He bites down on his bottom lip in an effort to silence his cries, flush coloring his cheeks out of embarrassment. It doesn’t work, of course.

“Ngh! F~uck…why..”

“Why what, darling?” you crooned, relishing in his state, “Use your words.”

Francis’s mind goes blank. A helpless whine leaves his mouth, and a shaky breath exits him when he feels your hand tighten around the base of his ruined cock.

He lets a sob, “Hnng! I can’t stop..leaking! S-shit~” tears begin to wet his face once again, rolling down to frame his features in a way that you never imagined up until now.

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…was that OOC—:0

imagine him falling apart in your lap, his back pressed up against your chest, squirming in your grasp...twitching with whiny moans and drool dripping down the side of his mouth with fat tears in the corners of his eyes. turning back to look you asking if he did a good job ......

AHHHHHH. u did so amazing anon, not ooc at ALL. REAL FRANCIS IS SOOOOO SUB CODED. like he's so inexperienced it hurts and it just makes me wanna UGHHHH.

#francis mosses #francis mosses x reader #sub francis mosses #milkman #that's not my neighbour #you did great!!#love this so much.#ncrescent asks

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anyasathenaeum · 4 months

Text

Guide (Inexperienced!Choso x Reader smut)

A/N: This is another thing nobody asked for, but... listen, I have a pantheon of anime husbands and Choso is WAY up there. So yeah, uh, have this inexperienced!Choso x flatmate!reader piece because I love him and my husband deserves nice things and sMASH SMASH SMA- Warnings: MINORS DNI, AFAB!reader, female terms and body parts are used, mentions of penetrative sex, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex (WRAP IT BEFORE YOU TAP IT, FOLKS), rough sex (a bit? not really, maybe if you squint lol), overstimulation, swearing.

Choso couldn't sleep.

3:24am.

The red, glowing numbers on the clock face by his bed seemed to mock him, reminding him of his inability to sleep and drawing his attention to the feelings coursing through his body. The very same feelings he was trying so very hard to ignore.

Choso may have been over 150 years old, and yet, this body, HIS body, was new to him. Its needs, its functions, the feelings it caused, every little detail was new. Despite his 150 years on this earth, he was still new in almost every single way.

Thankfully, you had been there for Choso every step of the way as he learned to understand his body and what it meant to be human. Besides being the person with whom Choso shared his apartment, you were also undoubtedly his best and closest friend, his favourite person outside of his family and the person around whom he always felt at peace and... happy. You were always open and accepting of him and his seemingly endless questions about the feelings and sensations in his body, never brushing him off or making him feel bad about his lack of knowledge or understanding.

But this... this was different.

Choso's brain suddenly seemed to be lacking an off switch, his mind conjuring up all sorts of images that he couldn't understand. Why was he constantly picturing you underneath him, your cheeks beautifully pink, your body bare and your skin pressed against his? Why did Choso want nothing but to rip the clothes straight off of you every time he saw you now? Why did picturing these things make his whole body feel like it was on fire, as if pure lava coursed through his veins? Why did his pants around his crotch suddenly become very, very tight every time those images flashed in his head? Why did it feel like you had become his very center of gravity?

Why? Why? Why?

Choso didn't understand this constant, desperate, aching need inside him. He didn't understand why you triggered that need every time he saw you or caught your scent. And so, despite it being the early hours of the morning, he decided that he would do exactly what he had always done when he didn't understand something about his body - he would ask you.

Slowly, Choso got out of bed and padded down the hallway to your bedroom. He knocked on your door loudly enough for you to wake, and he could hear you shuffling slowly in your room for a few moments before your door opened.

The sight of you before him, all sleepy and cuddly-looking, made Choso's heart squeeze in his chest for some reason. Your expression was scrunched up in confusion as you gazed at the man in front of you, stifling a small yawn before speaking to him, your voice thick with sleep.

"Choso? What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry for waking you, (Y/N). I couldn't sleep. I'm experiencing some new feelings and they don't make sense to me. They're keeping me awake. Could you help me?"

Your eyes widen a bit as you hear his explanation, and the small, warm smile that appears on your face makes Choso want to grab your face and smash his lips against yours while tugging each scrap of clothing blocking him from feeling your warm skin off of you. However, he restrained himself, his hand tightening into a fist as he struggled to keep himself in check as you invited him into your room.

'Why? Why do I wanna do that?' The voice in his head inquired, but Choso simply brushed it off before following you into your bedroom.

The moment he crossed into your room, it was as if a haze came over him. Your scent seemed to envelope him, clinging to his skin as he walked behind you, filling him to the brim with a fire that seemed to burn in his very bones, refusing to be quenched no matter what he did. He watched as you snuggled back into your bed and patted a spot next to you, inviting him to sit with you and explain whatever was bothering him.

Carefully, Choso sat next to you in your bed, his body stiff as he tried to find a comfortable position without making you uncomfortable. However, you never complained when he brushed up against you, instead just snuggling in a bit closer, your warmth radiating against him and warming him in a different way than the fire in his bones did.

"So..." You spoke gently, gazing up at your best friend, "What's troubling you?"

Choso took a deep breath, trying to figure out how to express what he was feeling to you. After a couple moments, he began to speak, his voice low and almost embarrassed as he tried to explain his situation.

"Well... my body seems to feel like it's constantly filled with fire. My brain just seems to race constantly, showing me all sorts of images that make my body feel hot. Once I get hot, I feel this... pressure inside me, almost bordering on pain, sometimes. My pants tend to get tight and I feel some kind of desperate need. I don't know what my body wants, but there's usually a throbbing feeling and hardness between my legs that comes with it. I don't really know how to explain it or how to make it stop. It only seems to happen around you, (Y/N). Am I... sick or something? I don't understand what's happening to me."

When Choso looked at you, he was surprised to see that your eyes were wider than he had ever seen, your expression one of completely shock and surprise, as well as something he didn't quite know how to describe.

As Choso explained this new sensation, you felt your heart beginning to race in your chest and heat rising to your face as you realized exactly what he was talking about, and you pointedly tried to ignore the heat that suddenly throbbed between your thighs. You blinked a couple times as he spoke, trying to figure out if you were truly hearing him right.

What Choso was experiencing was sexual attraction. To you.

"(Y/N)?"

Choso's voice was now worried, and when you looked up at him, you realized he was watching you attentively, concern evident on his face as he no doubt waited for your reply. You quickly cleared your throat and sat up, trying not to let your own emotions stop you from helping Choso understand.

"Sorry! So, uh.... w-well, you're not sick, Choso. What you're feeling, u-um... is pretty common amongst humans."

You found yourself struggling to get the words out, even more heat rushing to your face as you tried to continue your shaky start of an explanation. It didn't help that you had Choso's undivided attention, his eyes trained on you with surprising intensity and interest. You took a deep breath before continuing.

"What you're feeling is sexual attraction. It's basically your body signaling that you're interested in somebody in a sexual sense and that you'd essentially like to... um... mate with them, I guess? That's probably the simplest way to explain it. It's thanks to your instincts, really. Of course, most people just refer to it as being "horny"."

Choso's eyes were wide as you finished talking, and he looked at you curiously for a couple moments before asking bluntly, "So that feeling is my body wanting me to mate with you?"

Your face felt like it was on fire as you tried not to choke on your own spit at his question. After taking a second to recover, you simply shrugged, acting as if this was a totally normal conversation to be having at 3 in the morning with your best friend that you had secretly been pining after for God knows how long.

"I guess so. H-Have you felt that for anybody else?"

"No," Choso replied immediately, studying you carefully as his emotions began to take over his words, "You're the only one who ever makes me feel that way. Being around you makes me want to do things to you, with you. Being around you makes me want to hold you. Kiss you. Rip the clothes off your body because I can't feel your skin when you wear them. And..."

He trailed off, looking down at his hands for a moment before looking back up at you, his pale face now flushed with colour and his voice dangerously low.

"And it's all driving me crazy. You, (Y/N). You're driving me crazy."

Your heart all but cheered in your chest at his admission, and you couldn't help the smile that appeared on your lips as you felt a surge of relief, happiness and desire course through your veins.

"Do you want me to help you with those feelings, Choso?"

In any other circumstances, you wouldn't have been brave enough to be so upfront in your question, but the part of you that had been longing after the dark-haired half-cursed spirit for so long had taken over and thrown caution to the wind. You would be damned if you would let this moment pass you by.

Choso's beautiful honey-coloured eyes widened at your question, nodding his head immediately in reply, "Of course I do. I don't want anybody except you, (Y/N). It's..." His voice faltered, falling to so quiet a whisper that you almost missed it. "It's always been you."

Before you could stop yourself, you shifted forward and gently pressed your lips against his as your heart sang in your chest at his confession. As you kissed him, you were careful not to overwhelm him by kissing him too hard or too passionately right from the start, knowing that this was definitely his first kiss. However, regardless of this being his first kiss, Choso was kissing you back immediately with enough energy and passion that he just about knocked you backwards into your bed.

His taste was addictive, and you found your hands burying themselves into his dark hair as you shifted closer to him, his tongue swiping your bottom lip as though asking for permission to deepen the kiss. You happily allowed it, relishing every second of the kiss with the man you'd been quietly yearning for. You gasped softly as Choso lifted you with ease, as if you weighed nothing at all, and placed you in his lap, never once breaking away from you or stopping your kiss.

Now that he finally understood what he was feeling for you, and to see that you felt the same way about him, Choso felt truly happy. His soul itself was filled with a warmth that he hadn't ever felt before, not even for his brothers. These feelings he had for you were something else entirely, powerful in their own right and a different entity than the love he harboured for his family. Sure, there was the sexual attraction you had described to him, but his feelings for you weren't comprised of just that. This was something more, and while Choso didn't exactly have the words to describe it just yet, in this moment, he didn't care. He had you, and that's all he needed.

You pulled away from Choso suddenly, both of you panting and with swollen lips from the intensity of your kissing. A soft whine escaped him the moment you stopped, an adorable pout appearing almost immediately on his lips as he leaned towards you, clearly wanting nothing more desperately than to continue kissing you.

"No... (Y/N), please don't stop..."

You wanted to coo at how sweet Choso was, and you fought hard to resist the temptation of kissing him once more, instead moving backwards a bit and grinning at him warmly.

"Now, now, patience, Choso. You'll get more kisses, don't worry. I just want to do something else for you first. I'm going to take your pants off. Is that okay?"

Choso pouted a bit at not being able to kiss you more, but gave you a nod in return, the colour in his cheeks darkening. With his consent, you gently brought your hands down to the waistband of his sweatpants, where there was a very obvious tent. Gently, you tugged the sweatpants off of his hips, pulling them down oh-so-slowly as you revealed more and more of Choso's bare skin, his treasure trail, and eventually, his dick finally sprung free. Your eyes widened as you stared at his cock, at its angry red tip, already dribbling precum from its slit and how it seemed to throb gently in time to Choso's heartbeat. While it wasn't super big, it was definitely much thicker than you expected and your pussy positively throbbed at the thought of having his cock deep inside you, stretching you out in a way nothing else ever would.

"I-Is it okay?"

Choso's voice quivered a bit, giving away his nervousness as you continued to stare at his cock with wide eyes. He couldn't help but feel a bit self-conscious at being bare like this before another person for the first time, let alone it being you.

"You're beautiful, Choso."

You response was breathless and sincere, your eyes glimmering as you looked up at him, the warmest smile you could possibly give him on your lips. The small whimper that escaped Choso at your response made your heart flutter, and you could see his cheeks darkening as he looked away, covering his mouth with the back of his hand.

"I'm going to touch you now, okay?" You said softly, watching Choso carefully to ensure he was comfortable with you proceeding.

With another small whimper from Choso and a quick nod of his head, you gently reached your hand out and wrapped it around his shaft. The moment your soft, warm hand made contact with the silky skin of his cock, without you so much as moving, Choso suddenly shuddered and let out a loud whine. In the same instant, to your surprise, warm cum suddenly dribbled from his slit and got all over your hand.

"H-Hah... hah, fuck, 'm sorry... 'm so sorry, (Y/N)... i-it just... felt so good... I've never felt anything like that before..."

Choso couldn't meet your eyes as he whimpered out his apology, his cheeks a deep shade of red, embarrassment and a hint of confusion clear in his expression. Your heart lurched in your chest once more at just how sweet he was, and you couldn't help but giggle a little.

"Don't apologize, Choso. You came, that happens when you feel really good. It's normal. Nothing to be embarrassed about. In fact..." You smiled seductively as you looked him in the eyes, feeling more playful than before, "I plan on guiding you through it all and making you cum a few more times before the night's over."

The look on Choso's face was absolutely priceless, his eyes wide in surprise and his the colour in his face somehow darkening even more than before. Wiping your hand with a face cloth, you helped him get more comfortable, letting him rest against your headboard as you wriggled off his sweatpants the rest of the way followed by his shirt, revealing his toned and muscled torso, his defined abs, arms and back.

You could feel your own slick soaking through the pants of your pyjamas just at the sight of Choso naked in your bed, and you struggled to restrain yourself from touching yourself throughout all of this. How badly you wanted to sink your fingers into your weeping pussy, just for some hint of relief. Or better yet, have Choso use his long, thick fingers to make you see stars. But this was about him, now, and ensuring he had a good first sexual experience. So, you kept yourself in check and just focused on him, getting yourself comfortable as you laid between his thighs, once again taking his still-hard cock into your hands. You heard Choso let out a soft hiss and felt his dick throb and twitch in your hands at the contact, making you smile softly - he was so sensitive.

"Ready for the next part?" You teased gently, gazing up at the beautiful man before you.

"Yes, (Y/N)... p-please... more," Choso whined softly, squirming slightly beneath your touch as his cock twitched once more, his desire obvious in his voice and in his eyes.

Without so much as an answer, you leaned down and took the tip of Choso's cock into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the tip slowly. Choso positively mewled at the feeling of your warm mouth around him and the feeling of your tongue teasing his sensitive tip and slit, his orgasm already building once more as you continued.

"(Y/N)... o-oh, fuck... o-oh, yes, please, more! Please!"

Hearing Choso beg you for more made your pussy throb and drove you to take more of him in your mouth, taking his cock as far down your throat as you could as your tongue traced the thick vein on the underside of his shaft. More beautiful sounds came from Choso as you did this: moans of your name, curse words and soft whimpers and whines filled the room, until suddenly-

"'m gonna cum! F-Fuck, (Y/N), 'm gonna cum! (Y/N)!"

You felt a large hand tangle through your hair and push your head down a bit as Choso bucked his hips upward, forcing his cock just a bit deeper and making you gag slightly and your eyes water a bit as copious amounts of cum gushed down your throat. You squeezed your thighs together at the unintentionally rough treatment Choso had just given you, his fingers still tangled in your hair as he pulled you gently off his cock, his eyes filled with worry.

"Are you okay? I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you or be rough, (Y/N). I'm really, really sorry."

Even in the midst of recovering from his orgasm, Choso was still worried for you, which made your heart flutter and your pussy practically gush. You shook your head, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand before answering.

"It's okay, Choso. Don't worry about it, I'm alright. You didn't hurt me, it was just a little surprising, that's all."

Relief coursed through the man's veins as you confirmed that he hadn't hurt you or gone too far, a shaky breath escaping him as he leaned back against the headboard, still panting softly as he tried to regain his wits after his second orgasm of the night.

As you took in the sight of Choso naked in your bed, sat against your headboard with his arm slung over his eyes, his dark hair loose and his chest rising and falling with each breath, you couldn't help but be completely mesmerized by him. He was truly the most beautiful man you'd ever seen. It also did not escape your attention that somehow, even after two intense orgasms, his cock was still rock hard. Just how much more could he take?

Without much more thought, you found yourself stripping off your pyjamas, leaving you naked at last. You shivered and felt goosebumps erupt as you felt the cool night air brush over your skin, especially the skin that was positively soaked on the inside of and between your thighs.

"Choso," You called softly, wanting the man to look at you, to see you like this.

When Choso lowered his arm from his eyes and caught sight of your naked body before him, his honey-coloured eyes widened and became bigger than you'd ever seen before, his mouth dropping open slightly and his cheeks flushing once again.

You were so beautiful. Choso couldn't have even begun to imagine this kind of beauty, and to see you like this made his heart race frantically in his chest. He took in every detail of your body, his gaze lingering on your breasts for a few moments before continuing down your body. You looked so soft, your skin lit by the soft glow of the moon, and Choso wanted nothing than to touch you, hold you, stroke you, caress you and never let you go. Not even for a second.

Yet, when his gaze got down to your thighs, where he could see the slick coating your skin and the way it glistened, the scent of your arousal just barely teasing him, something inside Choso snapped. Gone were the thoughts of simply holding you or caressing you softly, instead replaced by a burning, all-consuming need. The same fire from before, multiplied a millions times in intensity, coursed through Choso's veins, and all he could do was give in to his instincts as they took over.

"Choso? Are you oka-ah!"

You yelped as Choso practically pounced on you, pressing his lips against your passionately as he flipped you into your bed so you were laying beneath him. You moaned into the kiss as he slipped his tongue into your mouth, kissing you deeper and more hungrily than you'd ever been kissed before.

Following his instincts, Choso rolled his hips, letting his cock drag through the soaked folds of your pussy and against your clit, making you moan out loudly from beneath him. You arched your back to allow him to keep grinding his dick against your cunt and clit, reveling in the feeling of pleasure he was giving you. Pulling away from your kiss, Choso brought his head down so his lips were by your ear so you could hear him panting softly.

"W-Want you," Choso whined, pressing desperate kisses to the side of your face and down your neck, "W-Want you so bad, (Y/N). Wanna... wanna be inside you."

As he whined those last few words, you felt the head of his cock catch on your entrance, making you gasp and jump slightly at the feeling. You could only bring yourself to nod your head, unable to speak as you felt Choso gently nuzzling your cheek with the tip of his nose. Without any other words, you felt him press his hips into yours, driving his cock into you slowly, inch by inch.

The stretch stung, a small hiss escaping you as you felt your pussy adjusting to the size of him. You'd never felt a cock as thick as his, and you let out a low moan at just how full you felt.

You could hear the man whining and whimpering your name over and over as he continued to slowly press himself into you to the hilt, the feeling of your warm, tight, spongy walls clenching around his cock and the way they seemed to pulse driving him dangerously close to cumming already.

"C-Cho... C-Cho..." Your voice wavered slightly as you struggled to form coherent words, "Feels s'good... you're... so big..."

Just feeling him inside you, pressing perfectly against that spongy, gummy spot, made you see stars. It felt as if you were made for each other, with him filling you just right and making you feel things nobody had ever made you feel before. However, before you could open your mouth to guide Choso through the next part, his instincts took over and he pulled out until just the tip was left inside you before thrusting back into you. A cry escaped your lips at the sudden feeling, your back arching in response and pleasure erupting through your veins as Choso observed you, his eyes trained on you carefully despite him panting softly. When he saw how you reacted, he took it as a sign to continue.

Without hesitation, Choso began to thrust into you almost desperately, hitting that perfect spot inside you over and over, his fingers intertwining with yours and holding your hand close as he fucked you into the mattress.

"F-Fuck, (Y/N), you're so tight... pussy's so good... so wet..." Choso whimpered, his movements suddenly stuttering and a low groan escaping him, "(Y/N)... g-gonna cum... gonna-!"

With a final thrust, he slammed himself to the hilt inside you, spilling himself and letting his cum fill you to the brim, coating your walls and pulling a moan of his name from your lips.

"C-Cho... God, th-that felt so good... so-ah!"

You cried out as Choso suddenly continued to thrust into you, slamming his hips against you even faster and harder than before, driving his cock deeper into you.

"'M sorry, (Y/N). 'M sorry, need you. Need more. 'M sorry, need you. S'good, 'm sorry, (Y/N), can't stop," Choso babbled in your ear as he continued to thrust into you, his large hands coming up to grasp your hips with a nearly-bruising grip.

The way Choso angled your hips allowed him to hit even deeper, that perfect spot being massaged continuously by the head of his cock, likely without him even realizing what he was doing to you. All you could do was focus on the feeling of him inside you and just good he made you feel.

Your nails dug into his back as you felt yourself coming close to cumming, your whole body tensing as you practically sobbed out, "'M gonna cum! C-Cho, 'm gonna cum! Cumming!"

Your orgasm hit you like a train, overwhelming you and washing over you in wave after wave. The way your pussy spasmed around Choso's cock made him cum again, yet unlike the first time, he didn't stop his thrusts. Instead, he continued to thrust into you, prolonging your orgasm despite overstimulating himself.

You thought he'd stop once your orgasm subsided, but how wrong you were. Choso kept going, fucking you relentlessly and cumming inside you over and over again, apologizing, whining and moaning your name until he was babbling complete nonsense and tears coursed down his beautiful face from overstimulation. He'd made you cum countless times, and you found your whole body feeling like your bones as disappeared by the time he'd finally pulled out, too tired ad overstimulated to continue.

Neither of you had the energy to get towels to clean yourselves off, but you couldn't care less as Choso collapsed into your bed next to you, his face red and his chest heaving from his exertion. As soon as he laid next to you, you found yourself being pulled into his arms, your face coming to rest against his bare chest as he held you close, your skin pressed against his. Gone was the intense, aroused Choso from earlier, instead replaced by his usual, tender and gentle counterpart. You could feel Choso nuzzling his nose into your hair, inhaling your scent as he held you close, endorphins surely coursing through his veins like crazy at this point.

You sighed as you snuggled in against him, your voice no louder than a whisper, "Jeez, Choso... I don't think you really needed me to guide you."

A low rumble of a chuckle escaped him, and you felt him press a gentle kiss to your temple as he answered softly, "Yes, I did. You helped me learn, (Y/N). Thank you." His expression fell a bit as he continued, "Was it too much, though? I'm really sorry. I just... couldn't stop. Something in me just... wanted to keep going."

"No," You giggled softly, looking up at him with a smile as heat rushed to your face, "It was amazing. I just wasn't expecting you to keep going like that."

Choso shrugged before leaning forward, a lazy grin on his face as he whispered lowly into your ear, "What can I say? You drive me crazy, (Y/N). And now that I know that this feeling is me wanting you, I'll only ever want you more and more than ever before. You're mine (Y/N). And I'll always make sure you remember that."

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fuxuannie · 1 year

Note

Wanted to request maybe hsr men with a partner that's their exact opposite?

* pairing(s) : various hsr men (i actually do all of them i promise) x reader

* prompt : opposites attract, amiright?

* authors note : so you may have noticed a bit of a.. redesign.. in my layout 🙏 but hi requester!! here u gooo ♡ cleaning up my requests sweep sweep. also thank you for 200 u guys r crazy omg.

* brief warning : blade is blade, sssadism if u SQUINT RLLY HARD.

(my love for gepard rlly shows in this im sorry. HABSGJABA 😭😭!!! some r rlly long.. ooc.. or short.. sbsndhsks HANDGSHWS i love gepard IM SORRY HES PRETTY BOY)

DAN HENG appreciated his silence and alone time, you however, could not go 5 minutes without his supervision.

While he liked to plan and execute said plan perfectly, you were reckless and went into anything head-first with worrying about the possible failures later.

And because of this, Dan Heng was protective over you. He was a gentleman after all, and he would do the same for March 7th back then, so it's no surprise he'd do it for you now. Especially with your tendencies to get yourself into unnecessary fights.

It aches his heart, you know? Having to see your wounds and bruises as he patches you up. But you've made a compromise to give him the equivelant amount of kisses equal to the bandages he put all over you. (and there were A LOT)

Even if you make him worry 24/7, he'll still love you. It's not bad to have a chance of pace after all.

JING YUAN is a man with many routines, calm and collected, with many worries on his shoulder.

You were more outgoing, a trailblazer who rode the express and were the one helping people with their worries.

He was always surprised with how helpful you really were in your first meetings, not that he doubted your abilities, but didn't expect someone to be able to do his asks as well as you did.

What didn't surprise him was how he fell for you, the way your heart was always pure and gold, and you lived a life to protect and help others.. he admired you. You were his inspiration, his muse, to be a General with that kind of care for his people.

When you two decided to date, Jing Yuan had to get used to your impulsive actions. He was always used to doing the same thing everyday, but with you? He found himself doing 50 other things before the next part of his schedule.

Not that he minded, he likes the excitement, and he really really likes you.

GEPARD, the Silvermane guards leader, falling for his sisters co-performer.

He LOVED to watch you perform or practice, Serval always saw him with such a love-struck smile, head resting on his hand as he sat and watched his sisters and you practice. She'd tease him about it afterwards, calling him loverboy and such, but he never confirmed nor denied her teasing about him liking you.

Sometimes the guards would hear him humming your part of a song or the general tune of a melody you play, considering how much he watched you, it was no surprise that you were stuck in his head like a popular song.

He quite literally, loved you like a love song, because it's ALL he ever listened to. He'd be in bed, white shirts and shorts, his arm covering his eyes as he listens to the CORNIEST love song and smiles while doing so because he thinks of you.

When you two started dating, he was quick to realize your differences. He was a leader, an intimidating figure, and had goals and missions he swore on his life to constantly follow and pursue even outside of work hours.

You on the other hand, unless you're onstage, you're pretty shy. Not really standing out in a crowd when you're in your civilian clothing, and you liked it that way. Almost like you lived a different life from your almost idol-like persona.

Gepard did find it incredibly cute though, how you'd have an explosive personality infront of a crowd. But with him? You were at the mercy of his soft kisses and his chuckles as your face turns warm from fluster.

SAMPO was the COMMON ENEMY between the Overworld and Underworld.

Okay, maybe a bit of an exaggeration. But YOU?? Natasha's sweetest nurse and sibling?? with the likes of HIM??

He was a liar, seemingly the type to decieve people who put their trust in him, only to repay them randomly out of nowhere with random treasure maps or save them from tight situations. It seemed like any suspicious activity was ALWAYS tied to him.

You, on the other hand, worked with your sister in her clinic. Often times praised for your kindness and patience, how amazing you were with children and people in general. Nobody would've expected that you fell for him, hell, he didn't expect it either.

But you saw that somewhere, in that heart of his, he truly did care about his friends and loved ones. Somewhere buried in his rather annoying antics, were the intentions of someone who was just worried for the others well-being. He proved it to you when he caught you crying in a dark alley, wiping your tears as you were so tired and overworked. He listened to you for hours on end, and he got to see a side of you that you didn't show to people, and vice versa. You saw the side of him people thought they'd die to see exist.

WELT YANG was always rather serious at times, with his status and achievements, people expected it of him.

You were his closest companion, one of the few he had left from his journey, but you were also his partner. Despite being just about his age, you were so calm, so gentle. Compared to his seemingly stern nature.

You loved plants and flowers of the such, always telling Welt about the newest one you learnt from a new planet on each expedition through the galaxy. You warmed his heart with how you spoke, explaining each and every plant with such detail. He loved it whenever you spoke, 'music to his ears', he'd tell people. Anyone would be enamoured with your voice and way of speaking, he admired your intelligence, but more importantly, he admired you.

BLADE.. with Kafka's partner in crime?

Kafka can't say she's surprised, hell, she'd love you too. But the pairing was rather odd.

Blade was monotone, cold. His stare as sharp as daggers, and could care less about those he hurt.

You, on the other hand, found immense joy in hurting others. A wicked smile on your face whenever you're permitted to do so towards anyone who dare stand in their way.

Whenever you two would kiss, the difference once again shows. You're clearly enjoying it, but Blade's expression is blank. But I guess don't judge a book by its cover? As the kiss he initiated is passionate and intimate, he's enjoying it I promise, he just doesn't show it.

Either way, you're both stuck babysitting Silverwolf most of the time. Oh well, more time with him.

#✹ ִֶָ ꐑꐑ entos paw prints #honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #dan heng x reader #jing yuan x reader #gepard x reader #gepard landau x reader #sampo koski x reader #sampo x reader #welt yang x reader #yang welt x reader #blade hsr x reader #blade x reader

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luveline · 2 months

Note

could I get some miguel aftercare pls 🙏🙏🙏

cw suggestive content mdni !! I actually loved writing this it was the highlight of my day, thank you for requesting. fem, 1k

“You’re doing that thing,” Miguel says.

You’re breathless where he’s fine, voice lost as you ask, “What thing?”

He smooths his hands across either side of your face briefly. “Locking up. Relax, sweetheart. Catch your breath.”

You cover your face with your hands but end up too hot, the back of your neck wet with sweat and your face glowing with heat. Miguel laughs softly, blowing cool air up and down your face where he lays beside you.

He’d usually call you cariño or some other pet name in his native tongue, so sweetheart is out of the blue but no less affectionate. You close your eyes against his cold breath and slouch toward him, where you’re quickly held in his arms again, his voice quieter as he asks, “You okay?”

“Mm.”

“Yeah?” He works the soft cup of your bra back down over your chest, pressing a kiss to the hill of your breast. “You sure?” he asks, your skin warmed by his breath.

You curl down around him, trying to keep him there, your face in his hair and your knee sliding up his thigh as you turn onto your side.

You’re hot all over and aching, but not unhappy. You walk a careful path up his chest and shoulder to his neck, your fingers brushing over the soft surface of his skin one centimetre at a time, not dragging, just touching, searching for his face. You hold his cheek in your hand and kiss his hair, not caring if it’s slightly ineffectual. He’ll know what you’re trying to convey either way.

Sex with Miguel nearly always leaves you like this. More than satisfied, desperate to be hugged, and desperate to impress upon him how much he means to you if the sex hadn’t already. Your hand moves with him as he lifts his head to yours, eyes aligned, the familiar hint of a smile playing on his lips.

“You want me to open a window?”

“I love you,” you say, because what you want is reassurance that it felt the same for him.

His voice is velvet. “I love you. Te adoro. When I look at you… me dejas sin aliento.”

“Tell me,” you mumble.

“I can’t breathe.”

You tip your head back with a laugh, “That’s ironic,” you say.

He chases you there, his nose down the curve of your throat and his hands pressing behind your back, wrapping you in, hugging you and kissing under your ear, bridging the gap again. It’s weird to be so together, to feel like one person and to have that end, but he hugs you and it’s nearly the same. It’s a different kind of connection. It eases your heart, calms your hot flush.

“You are beautiful,” he affirms. “I just have better stamina.”

“Don’t say stamina.”

“You’re jealous of my stamina, and that’s okay.” He smiles into your neck before kissing it tenderly.

Moments of this Miguel are rare. He’s so happy, you only get to see him as uninhibited in moments of intense connection, though that can be anything with him. A teasing remark as he helps you up the short step of the tram or a shared smile when you lean back into his chest for no reason at all, knowing he’ll take your weight.

You savour it. He’s got a good heart.

And a great physique. “Doesn’t count. You got it all from a bottle.”

His lips part. “Oh?” he says, the slight scratch of his teeth sending shivers down your arms.

His lips close in a soft, soft kiss. Miguel pulls away from you to sit up a touch, and then he’s caressing your hip and your knee like he can sense the ache, his face pensive. “Do you want to shower, or should I bring you a towel?”

“Whatever you want to do.”

“I want to take care of you,” he says earnestly, hand back up, resting on the strip of fat between hip and ass. “But…”

You look at him. Unbeknownst to you, Miguel’s taking you in, and thinking you might be the most lovely thing he’s ever seen, not just because he’s fucked you and you took it beautifully, or the sounds you made, or the feeling of your arm wrapped behind his head as you kissed him, but everything about you. He loves you and you know that, but he can’t convey it right. And he thinks if he cleans you up he might spend an hour just looking at you, because you’re the most perfect thing he’s ever seen, all your marks and wrinkles and softness. He’d lose half the night.

“You want to fuck me again?” you ask gently.

“That’s not what I’m trying to say,” he denies, leaning down over you. You close your eyes and allow him another kiss. “It’s late, we can’t stay up all night. You’re tired.”

You hum regretfully. “Yes.”

“Was it everything you wanted?” he asks. “I can…” His hand trails down to your stomach.

You laugh under your breath. “I don’t think I can anymore,” you mumble, half flirtation and half aching fondness. “Thank you.”

“Thank you?” He brings his hand up and squeezes your face, taking another kiss, so many now you can’t count them.

You smile into his mouth. You’re thinking thank you for being caring enough to think about it, and he’s thinking you’re crazy for not expecting it. Regardless, he doesn’t touch any lower, only dropping his hand and rubbing a sweeping, soothing line over your tummy and your side. “You’re so pretty,” he whispers.

You peek at him through threaded lashes. “Your eyes are closed,” you whisper back.

“I knew before I closed them, and I know it now.” He sighs. “Sorry,” he says, kissing your cheek, “forgive me. I’ll get a towel.”

“It’s my fault, being so enchanting n’ all.”

Miguel kisses you again. “Exactly.”

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volensnolenss · 5 months

Text

Jealous

𝓢𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓻𝔂: Only your charms can melt his heart and remove the influence of jealousy; 𝓒𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓷𝓽: sfw! fluff, he calls you ‘my love’, ‘sweetheart’, mention of a possible child

“My love, meet me!”

Gojo burst into the warm house with a noise and a bright flame of fun, but he did not receive your usual hug and kiss. He threw off his coat in confusion, listening to the silence and looking for at least someone's presence in it.

“Satoru, we're here.” Your gentle voice came from the living room, and he immediately went to you when he saw your sleeping cat on you. Gojo narrowed his eyes and approached you with a drop of contempt, asking a question with his eyes.

“That is, because of her, I lost everything.”

Approaching the cat, Gojo wrinkled his nose and sneezed, making her jump in fear.

With one hand you gently removed the fluff from his face, with the other you stroked the cat with soothing movements, but suddenly she jumped off and ran into another room.

“She's finally gone.” Gojo sits on the edge of the sofa, swinging one leg over the other, grinning at the cat.

You giggled watching his reaction.

“Are you jealous?”

“Of course I'm jealous. I should be in her place!” Gojo crossed his arms and turned away from you like a stubborn child who has been deprived of a gift.

“Come here.”

“No!”

“Come on.”

“No!”

You gestured at him with your arms and reached out to him, to which he proudly raised his head without turning to you.

Because of his waywardness and character, he behaved like a teenager who doesn't really know anything and understands everything, but at the same time he longed for your touch, your stroking on the head and lily kisses.

“My darling, my best man, let me show you a sign that you are the only one in my heart.”

The only thing Satoru was guided by was your words, the way you skillfully use them.

He turned his head exactly 90 degrees, looking at you out of the corner of his eye.

“I'll think about it.”

Of course, he will not think, he will wait for you to take the initiative first.

“Satoru...” You called him flirtatiously.

You crawled up to him from behind and gently, lightly touching his shoulders with your fingers, brushed his neck with your lips, causing goosebumps all over his body.

“How long are you going to sulk?” You buried your forehead in the back of his head, wrapping your arms around him from behind.

You inhaled the remaining smell of rain and coolness, in which there was a subtle note of something sweet.

“Where have you been, Satoru?”

He was silent, there was a short circuit in his head from all your actions. You didn't see it, but he was smiling broadly, which made his cheekbones ache.

“How can I resent you, sweetheart?”

“Because you're like a child.”

You grunted and he threw you on your back, putting his head on you.

“Better stroke me. Since I'm a child, I want love and attention.”

“And you're a demanding child.”

You chuckled and began to run your palm smoothly down his back, moving to his head, starting to scratch it in a relaxed way, passing your thin fingers through his snow-white and soft hair.

He is always surprised at how you manage to influence him in such a way: as if at the click of a finger he fell and is ready to give himself up to the love that you reward him with.

“If you knew how nice it is to be in your arms after the rain.”

“I've heard that if it rains, it's for something good.”

You cupped Satoru's face in your hands as he propped himself up on his elbows.

He stared suspiciously at your stomach, examining it with a malicious smile. You tilted your head to the side, not understanding his behavior.

“And I heard that if a cat is lying on a girl's stomach, then she will soon have a child.”

You clicked, rolling your eyes and immediately shook your head, considering his answer a joke.

“Satoru, don’t be ridiculous!”

“Hey! Imagine how your mini copy will run around the house.”

“Thank you, I have enough of your mini fluffy copy.” You pointed out to him the cat that was sitting on the carpet, looking at you both with interest.

His brows became furrowed again; he wanted to say something, but you interrupted him, leaving a small kiss on his cheek.

“Okay, I'm at your mercy.”

#jjk x reader #jjk headcanons #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x you #gojo x reader #gojo headcanons #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru headcanons #gojo satoru x reader #gojo fluff #jjk fluff #gojo satoru x y/n

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gojonanami · 6 months

Text

BLOODSUCKER - SATORU GOJO

✴︎ summary: you had avoided your ex for so long, only to run into him at a halloween party, and he's the same as ever but has his teeth always been that sharp? ✴︎ contents: 18+ only, nsfw, dub/con, blood kink, gojo has fangs, biting, marking, bloodsucking, fingering (f!receiving), swearing, semi-public sex, sex against a car, unprotected sex, creampie, pet names (sweetheart, pretty, baby), ✴︎ wc: 2,704

“Can I have a bite?” He whispers, lips against your ear, his breath hot against your skin, sending a warm flush down your body — and why did he smell so intoxicating?

The night had gone on normally enough — yet another Halloween party you had been dragged to (after you had lost a bet and ended up being the designated driver for the evening) in another coordinated themed costume — this time for the Barbie movie. Yet another throng of costumed drunks and weirdos you had to wade through while your friends had their fun. And you thought the night would be boring.

Oh, you were so wrong.

He saw you first. You were only sure of that, after, because you remembered the prickling of your skin when his ice blue irises had found you lounging in the loft area upstairs — where most people had begun to clear out of after the keg had arrived downstairs. You had let your hair out of your wig, your head aching from the weight of the hair on your head and the cheap elastic band trying to work its way into your forehead.

You unlocked your phone, looking at yourself in your camera, pouting at the state of your hair — unkempt and unruly from the wig, but you only could do what you could.

“Great, now I can be a scary Barbie,” you murmur, locking your phone, as you pocket it.

“Oh, you’re not scary,” and your head snaps up, eyes finding those pools of still blue that looked like you could drown in them — and you very well would. His lips were curled in a small smile, his skin looked pale in the harsh fluorescent lights of the kitchen, “but I wouldn’t mind seeing you be a little scary,”

“Satoru,” your lips twist, fuck, you thought he’d never show up to this party — you had avoided him flawlessly since your breakup — if you could even call it that. You never official — you were never anything, just a situation that was more than a booty call, but less than a relationship. Every invitation was only accepted with assurance and recon that Satoru would not attend, every exit strategy was planned, and every move was carefully made.

Except this one.

“Oh, you recognize me?” he gasps in mock surprise, lips in that shit eating grin you had loved to kiss off of him, but now, all it did was make you want to slap him, “surprised you did after you’ve avoided me for so long, sweetheart,”

“And apparently you’re the one with brain damage because we broke up — don’t call me that,” you sigh, eyes glancing down at his outfit — a black and white suit with a high collar, as his mouth moved as he spoke, you caught sight of fangs on his teeth, and his eyes glinted with a crimson tint dipped in an ocean of blue, “your costume is fitting — you definitely did suck the life out of our relationship,”

“Bitter doesn’t suit you, baby,” your eye twitches, as he dares closer, eyes glinting in the low light of the kitchen, “plus y’know, you always did the best sucking,”

Your traitorous cheeks flush, and he doesn’t miss the way your eyes betray you by flickering downwards, “fuck off—“

“Oh, I know you want me to fuck something — don’t think it’s off though,” he looms closer, licking his lips, as he smiles — and your heart forgets to beat — did he always smell this good? He smelt of musk, wood, and everything warm and honeyed — the scent melted over you, plying your resistance with sweetness in contrast to his vulgarity, “look at you, haven’t even touched you and you’re so pliant, where’s that mouth now?” And his thumbs drag down your lips, pulling at the bottom one — “looks better wrapped around my cock, doesn’t it?”

And his words snap you from your trance, slapping his hand away, “didn’t expect an apology from you, but I thought you’d do better than this shit,”

“Can you blame me for missing you, pretty?” He pouts, “thought you loved me more than that,”

“And I thought you loved me enough to commit but looks like we both are wrong,” you roll your eyes, “go find someone else to fuck with, Gojo,”

He raises an eyebrow, “Aw, baby, don’t act so unfamiliar, you had my dick in you after all, you can still call me Satoru,” and then there’s a cheer in the living room that cuts off your retort, as he turns to look.

And that’s your cue to leave, you slip away from him, grabbing your jacket, making an Irish exit, slipping through the throng of people partying. You manage to get down the street, the streets quiet now, the sounds of the party growing more distant by the second. A sense of dread settled over you the more you walked, forming a lump in your throat and a pit in your stomach. The streetlights flickered above you, the wind cutting through your jacket as you pulled it closer around you. Your car was close, right past this wooded backyard, trees lining what seemed to be an abandoned home. There was only a few more yards — and then you heard a twig snap — your head snapped around to look behind you.

And that was your mistake.

A hand clamped over your mouth, as you gasped against it, another tight around your middle, your scream was muffled against the palm. And then a familiar voice whispered in your ear, “Boo,” before he lets you go, and you whirl around, smacking Satoru against his chest, hard.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Your heart was pumping, hard, nearly banging against your ribs, body still shaking with adrenaline, “what the fuck - that’s not fucking funny,”

“It wasn’t supposed to be funny — it was supposed to be spooky,” he grins, unaffected by your anger, as your fingers clench into fists, “you didn’t give me a treat so I had to play a trick. It’s the rules of Halloween, pretty,”

“It wasn’t spooky, it was fucking scary—“ you move to hit him again, and he catches your hand by the wrist, and he’s pulling you close, “let me go, Gojo—“

“Satoru,” he corrects, his fingers caressing your cheek, and you feel your knees knocking together, the world shifting beneath your feet, “I’m sorry for frightening you, sweetheart,” and he’s helping you walk over to your car, “just wanted to make sure you get to your car safely,”

Why were you letting him help you? Why was your body leaning against his? Why were you letting his arm slink around your waist, fingers squeezing your hip? But those same questions sunk away into the inky abyss of your mind, as thoughts blurred over each other, and all you can think about was him.

“Satoru,” you murmur, as you stumble against him, and he catches you by your waist, steadying you, “I don’t know what’s wrong,” your head rests against his chest, but you felt so comfortable, so…content.

“It’s okay, baby, I got you,” he purred, his words only intoxicated you further, drizzled like melted molasses down your throat, “that spook I gave you earlier really took it out of you, but,” his fingers tilt your chin up, his eyes finding yours — and they glowed, a shiny blue that unnerved you, “should I show you something really scary?”

“Satoru, what—“ and he’s kissing you, lips sliding against yours — he tastes familiar, hint of candy corn that he was always a fiend for, but he tastes even sweeter than that, headier too — before he parts, “what are you doing?”

“Showing you just how much I missed you,” he hums, thumb gliding over the length of your cheek, “y’know how hard it was for me without you? Wouldn’t be able to sleep. I could only think about how I had screwed thing up. Would take these long walks at night when I couldn’t sleep,” and his fingers trace down your jawline, before reaching your neck, his thumb resting against your pulse, “turns out those walks were good for one thing,”

“And what’s that?” You murmur, still utterly distracted by his touch.

And he brushes his lips against your neck, teeth grazing against your pulse, “Finding a way to keep you — forever,” and his lips find yours again, more insistent this time, as his arms press your body to his, your hands sliding up his chest, caged in by his form, “can I have a bite?” he whispers, lips against your ear now, sending a flush across your cheeks, “just wanna mark you again, like i used to, make you mine,”

For a moment, the curtain snaps back, mask slipping, as your eyes flutter open without the rosy glasses he had slipped over your eyes, “I’m not yours,” and you only see him — the true him — for a moment.

His muscles tighten, fingers digging into your sides harshly, gripping your flesh hard enough to bruise, his gaze is dark, navy instead of the usual cerulean with a ring of red that pierces through your skin, but his teeth — his teeth scare you the most — his fangs aren’t fake, his tongue sliding against them both, as he flashed an unnerving smile at you that sends your blood running cold.

But not colder than his.

“Satoru — what—“ and his lips find yours again, sending a headiness throughout your body, from your head to the tips of your toes, “I-“

“Just let me have this, just this one night,” he murmurs, words as smooth as glass and as needy as need itself, “please,”

And you’re the one pulling him to you, back against the cool metal of your car, and your fingers cup his face, pulling him against your lips. He tastes like want, his tongue parts your lips, as his fingers slide up your dress, sending goosebumps up your thighs, “Fuck, all it takes for you, huh?” He murmurs, and his fangs nibble at your bottom lip making you gasp, pressing wet kisses down your jaw, until he reaches your neck.

“Been thinking about this for far too long, sweetheart,”

two fingers drag down your neck first, as he tilts your head for easy access, and you shiver at his touch — was he colder than before? “I’m going to be doing a lot more than marking you like I did before,” his lips press a delicate kiss to your neck, “need to taste it,”

And his fangs drag over your soft flesh, before he finally bites you. Your mouth hangs open in a sharp gasp as his fangs pierce your skin, and your head lolls back, as pleasure floods your body. You feel your warm blood dripping from your neck, slipping down your skin, as he sucks from you.

He pulls away for a moment to look at you, your scarlet blood dripping from his mouth, painting his pale pink lips burgundy, as his tongue darts out to catch the blood slipping down your chin.

“You taste like everything to me,” he murmurs, pressing his nose against the nape of your neck, “sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted, aren’t you?”

You whimper, “Satoru, feels so good,” and he’s kissing you again, letting you taste your own blood on his lips, it only makes you want him even more. But this isn’t right, something wasn’t right—

“Just give in, sweetheart,” he’s dragging your hands down your sides, squeezing your hips, as his palms rest under your thighs, “let me make you feel good,”

And he lifts you, guiding your legs to wrap around your waist, as his large palm slides up your thigh, hiking your dress up. He grins, looking at your soaked panties, thumb pressing against your puffy clit, making you gasp and squirm, “wonder if you taste even sweeter down here, baby?”

You whine louder, as his fingers slide into the waistband of your underwear and snaps it against your skin, “Your blood is pumping harder than ever, bet it tastes even better like that — full of your fear, full of your pleasure,” his fingers are sliding your drenched panties down, “fuck, you’re a little freak, bet you got wet when I grabbed you, can’t all be from the last few minutes,”

And his lithe finger sinking into you, as your lips part in a gasp as he bullies your walls, “So tight for me,” he groans, as his finger curls against you, making you moan, and his teeth graze against your neck, before sinking in. You both moan in tandem, as he drinks more of your blood, as a second finger parts into your folds, your release dripping down his palm. He’s stretching you out — fingers pistoning in and out, Pleasure courses up and down your body, toes curling, as all you can hear is the sucking of his fangs and the squelch of his fingers in your cunt.

And then he hits that spot, and you’re cumming, slick dripping down your thighs as you moan, as your hips move against his fingers, riding out your orgasm. He pulls your fangs from your neck, letting your blood drip down your neck.

He tilts your head back, letting him look at your fluttering eyelashes and fucked out expression, lips parted, as your blood paints your skin a beautiful maroon.

“So fuckin’ pretty, sweetheart,” he’s pulling his fingers from you, as you gasp from the emptiness. He places them in his mouth, cleaning them of your release, “think I may get addicted baby, gotta have more of you — doesn’t matter if it’s your blood or your cum,”

And you hear the clink of your belt buckle and sound of his zipper, as he frees his cock, rubbing against your dripping pussy, “Gonna let your ex fuck you against your car? Gotta have you baby, but if I take you now, I don’t know if I’ll ever let you go,” he’s teasing the head of his cock against your pussy lips, “do you still want me to do it?”

You whine, back arching against the hard surface of the car, “please, I need you,” your fingers wrap around his neck, his lips against yours, “Satoru—“

And he’s sinking his cock into you, as he’s lifting your legs to your ears, ankles by his ears as his hips flush against your ass, “Fuck, can you feel me kissing the deepest part of you?” His hips roll into you now, slowly at first, again and again, as your walls throb around him, the car groans and your ankles ache against his slow thrusts, “best cunt I’ve ever had, and all fucking mine now,”

“Toru, please, more—“

And he barks a laugh, sweat slipping down your forehead, his balls slapping against your ass, “so needy f’me, you’re mine aren’t you? Say you’re mine,” he’s grunting as your walls flutter around him, and he knows you’re close—

Your orgasm washes over you, toes curling, and he leans forward, fangs sinking into you, as he fucks you through it. The blood he drinks makes your head dizzy with pleasure, until he pulls away, letting your blood drip from his lips. And he’s grunting, hips stuttering as he bottoms out — making you gasp and whine again. Until he’s cumming inside you, painting your walls white, emptying his load into you. He’s fucking his cum inside your cunt.

And he’s easing your legs down as the two of you come down, his face buried in the nape of your neck, licking at the blood dripping from his bites — your neck beginning to ache and sting now.

“So pretty, so perfect,” he coos, his lips curling still red from your blood, as he’s curling his arms around your waist, “gotta take you home so I can taste you all over again.”

“No, I can’t. This was a one time thing—“

And he’s tilting your chin up, eyes flashing dangerously, as his lips curl, “I told you, I’m not going to let you go, besides,” he turns your head towards your rear view mirror, your eyes beginning to glint red, “I have to let you have a bite of me later,” and you can feel your blood run cold, “it’s only fair, isn’t it, sweetheart?”

✴︎ a/n: was possessed to write this by the halloween spirits -- also i have a thing for bloodsucking now unfortunately. have a spooky season :)

✴︎ tag list: @d1rtv, @crazynocturnalkiki, @ichikanu, @dazailover1900, @sinnerstardoll, @bisexualpanicwentoutforasmoke, @dumbabie, @aureatekintsugi, @mooly-artistic, @happymangospot, @hiimarandin, @bunsunee, @5-xiaoo,

#sab [mlist]#satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo fanfiction #satoru gojo smut #jjk smut #satoru gojo #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x you #satoru gojo x you #gojo satoru fanfiction #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction

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jaebeomsbitch · 3 months

Text

Slow (E.M.)

Summary: Only Eddie can cure the blues that cling to your skin like he’s balm made for your soul.

A/N: will publish the extended version later, just needed to get this out. Not edited!

Warnings: MINORS DNI YOU WILL BE BURNED AT THE STAKE, eating pussy, depression, cursing, making out

You’d been feeling sad for a while, there’s this unexplainable ache in your chest pressing into your ribs until you feel like they’ll almost crack. Eddie sees the way your eyes have dimmed. How could he not? You’d been living together for over a year now but he’s never seen you like this. So quiet, so demure. Yes you were introverted, sometimes having bouts of energy where you won’t shut the fuck up and it’s the cutest thing he’s ever seen. The way your eyes light up, you hands moving wildly.

So when you lay in your bed sheets quietly, no book in your hand Eddie looks at you with this sadness in his eyes. It’s not pity, it’s concern. His girlfriend so quiet, so meek, not eating. Fuck his heart aches seeing you like this. He crawls into bed softly asking what’s wrong but you don’t have an answer. You don’t know what’s wrong but this black cloud looms over you like your own personal rain cloud.

Eddie makes the ache better, he takes some of the pressure of your chest especially when he pulls you into his arms. His nose in your hair breathing in your shampoo, pale arms holding you tight as he rubs your back. He brushes a loose strand of hair behind your ear whispering “you’re so beautiful.”

You can’t help the way you automatically mewl under his big brown eyes, hiding in his neck like a safe haven. He holds you tighter against him, nuzzling into your hair again.

“Don’t hide from me,” he murmurs softly, breath warm against your ear. “I want to see those gorgeous eyes of yours.”

You reluctantly relent, cheeks pink as you slowly look up at your boyfriend. There’s a certain vulnerability in your eyes. He gives you a small smile stroking your cheek with his thumb as he grabs your face.

“It’s okay,” he says softly. “You don’t have to be strong all the time, y’know? I’m here for you no matter what sweetheart.”

“You make me shy when you say stuff like that” you whisper, not trusting you full voice and afraid to break the quietness between you two.

He chuckles softly, the reverberation dancing into your chest straight to your heart. “Then I’ll just have to keep saying it then,” he replies teasingly.

His hands trace gentle patterns on your back, it’s soothing but electric at the same time. Like lightning striking the sea. He leans in close to you, nose ghosting over the bridge of yours as he whispers, “I love you so much, princess.”

“I love you too” you manage to murmur back. It’s like you’re stuck in a trance. Your eyes flicker to his lips and back to his eyes as he closes the gap. Your lips move against each other in a dance full of love and understanding. Tongues gliding against each other as Eddie strokes your cheek.

“You’re so pretty” you whisper as you pull away from his lips. His cheeks flushed, lips half swollen, big brown eyes boring into yours.

He grins preening at the compliment squeezing you just a little tighter. “So are you, baby” he replies. His thumb stroking your cheek tenderly “you take my breath away,” he whispers pressing a soft peck to your lips. You hum softly, feeling the blues cling to your skin like rainwater but Eddie makes everything better.

He notices the faint hint of sadness still swirling in your eyes despite you trying to hide it, his lips curve into a frown. “Are you sure you’re okay, baby?” He asked gently moving to stroke your hair tenderly. “You don’t have to pretend for me, y’know. I’m here for you, whatever you need”

“I just want to be here in your arms” you whisper

He nods understandingly, pulling you closer against his chest as he holds you tight. He plants a series of soft kisses along your temple and down your cheekbone, his lips lingering on your skin as he tries to convey his love and support through his touch.

"I'm right here," he whispers softly, his words echoing the sentiment of his actions. "You're safe with me, always."

You sniffle, small tears droplets falling into his tattooed skin as you nuzzle into his neck. He wipes away your tears gently with his thumbs, his heart aching at the sight of your distress. "Shh, it's okay," he soothes, rocking you back and forth slightly as he holds you close. "Just let it out, princess. I'm here for you."

“I don’t want to be sad anymore” you whisper, your voice broken. You sound so defeated, you feel like a burden on Eddie.

He kisses your forehead tenderly, his own heart heavy with sympathy for your pain. "I know, baby," he murmurs softly. "And we'll get through this together, okay? You're not alone in this."

He continues to hold you close, offering what comfort he can through his presence and touch. After a few moments, he speaks again, his voice gentle and reassuring.

"Why don't we watch that movie you wanted to see earlier?" he suggests. "Maybe it'll help take your mind off things for a while." You nod but make no effort to move out of his arms. You want nothing but your boyfriend’s warmth and affection.You lay on his chest, legs tangled with his. It’s like he naturally radiates this sense of comfort as he puts on whatever random movie he found.

He feels your body relax in his as you sink further into his embrace. His heartbeat pounding underneath your ear providing a sort of lullaby, lulling you into a peaceful state. He plays with your hair aimlessly just wanting to remind you that he’s right there with you.

“I wish I could sink into you” you whisper unsure if that sounds creepy or not. He smiles down at you, his expression full of love and tenderness. "Me too, baby," he whispers softly, planting a gentle kiss on top of your head. "I never want to let you go."

You trace patterns onto his chest as Eddie pulls the duvet over the two of you knowing how cold you get. The two of you sit like this for a long while until you finally whisper “you make everything better.” You shift your face so you can look at him wanting him to know just how much you appreciate him, that you don’t take him for granted.

He meets your gaze, his own eyes filled with love and something else. "I hope so," he replies softly, brushing a stray lock of hair away from your face tenderly. "Because you mean everything to me, princess."

You lay your head on his chest, your eyelashes fluttering against his T-shirt with every blink. “Baby” you whisper.

“What’s wrong?” He asks softly

“I… I wanna feel connected to you” you whisper, cheeks flushing pink.

He feels a wave of tenderness wash over him at your admission, and he leans down to place a gentle kiss on your head. "We already are, princess," he murmurs softly, his voice thick with emotion. "But if you need something more...well, I'm yours for the taking,” he says with a grin on his lips.

“Please” you whisper.

“S’all I want” you murmur pressing a kiss to the underneath of his jaw. His fingers find your face, thumb slotting under your jaw to bring your lips to his. Your lips move against each other as you shift to make the angle less awkward. Humming softly as the warmth of his kiss spreads through your chest.

His arms wrap around your back as he licks at the seam of your mouth. It’s been a while since the two of you had just made out. He presses his weight on his right side making sure to hold you close as he gently lays you on your back successfully flipping your position.

You pull back panting faintly, Eddie swirls around you. His touch, taste, scent, clouding your vision as he crowds you, the soft sounds of his labored breath singing in your ears as he leans down to press wet open mouthed kisses to your neck. You croon pressing your head into the pillow to bare your neck to his mouth. Your fingers brush through the soft curls on his head, mussing the tight ringlets.

“I love you baby” he whispers, husky voice and all like Smokey whiskey injecting straight into your veins.

“Love you too” you say breathlessly as your head spins in a flurry of tenderness.

His fingers trace over your clothes, “can I take these off sweetheart?” He whispers. His index and thumb pinched on the thin fabric of your pajama bottoms.

“Yes” you nod looking down at your boyfriend. His hair sticking in every direction, veined hands pulling down the soft fabric off your hips, big brown eyes drinking in every single detail of your face. You lift your hips as he drags down your pajamas almost agonizingly slow but you’re not in a rush, not even when the tips of his pinkies hook into your panties bringing them down too.

He’s careful when he removes your clothing off your feet, successfully throwing them into the hamper before looking down. His pupils dilating, pink tongue licking his lips like a man starved seeing his meal for the first time in a while. He lays on his stomach, big hands grabbing the backs of your thighs.

“This okay?” He murmur, eyes flicking up towards yours. He needs your permission, wants desperately to give into your whims and quell the sadness that hangs over you. Not that he can see much of it right now. Not when you’re looking at him through half lidded eyes as your chest rises subtly. You nod letting out a breath trying to calm your racing heart down.

He crawls closer pulling your legs open and groaning as you’re exposed to his hungry gaze. He dips his face forward like he’s smelling freshly cut daises, nose pressed to your pussy. Your fingers curl around the sheets with a sharp gasp, eyes fluttering closed until Eddie asks you to open them. You swallow hard in embarrassment, Eddie always liked maintaining eye contact during intimacy but you’re still left very raw and vulnerable.

“I’m right here baby” he whispers, fingers finding yours in the crumpled sheets, intertwining his much larger hand with yours. Your eyes flutter open at his tenderness, dark pupils finding your matching ones as he presses a kiss to your inner thigh. You squeeze his fingers back as a wordless ‘okay.’

His free hand glides through the fabric with a whooshing noise, thumb and index finger opening up your pussy to his gaze. This time he swallows hard, seeing your pussy wet and attentive for him. Your clit glistening in your arousal like a shiny pearl in an open clam.

He dips his face forward, the familiar feeling of his hair tickling your inner thighs already making your heart race but as soon as his tongue flatly traces up your slick entrance you swear you could die and go to heaven. You squeeze his hand tighter as you moan softly, a grin adorning Eddie’s face as soon as he hears it. He’s fucking elated that you’re letting him take care of you when you’ve been feeling this down.

The tip of his tongue swirls expertly around your clit teasingly, your eyebrows knitting together immediately. You sigh that is until, he applies more pressure to your clit. A small noise escapes your throat as you press your head into the pillow again.

“Taste so sweet, baby” his voice husky and low, cool like amber.

“So fucking perfect” he whispers as he lays his tongue flat against your clit, licking continuous stripes over it until he coaxed out those familiar whines from your lips. His tongue finds its way to your entrance, the tip of it working you open until he’s got his tongue inside the bumpy walls, nose brushing against your clit as he tongue fucks you making sure to go slow and gentle. He wants you to feel how much he fucking loves you.

It isn’t long until your thighs are trembling on either side of his head, more whimpers and moans mixed with broken curse words leave from deep in your lungs. They fill the gap, slowly inflating the ache in your chest until the cavity is smooth and your ribs are back in place. Of course you’re not healed for life but Eddie will be there to fill the gap.

You feel so loved, eyes burning with happy tears as your fingers squeeze his tighter. A final breathless moan leaves your parted lips as your back arches off the bed ever so slightly. It is not dramatic, there’s no screaming, no neighbors banging on the door for you to shut up. It’s your body trembling as your fingers tug on the bedsheets, it’s patient and kind and warm. It’s Eddie, it’s you, it’s your love. It’s everything you need.

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nanathott · 13 days

Note

nanami would massage ur feet if u wear heels for too long🌠

god damn it he so would… gross disgusting fluff under the cut….

“how are you feeling?” nanami asked as he trailed closely behind you, only 2 steps behind you as you sat down on the couch. kento bent down on his knees and reached for your heel clad foot, placing it in his lap

“my head is spinning.” you complain, leaning your head into the palm of your hand to ease the ache the alcohol was putting on your brain. nanami nodded and hummed as he listened to you speak, all the while his large hands were working diligently to undo the uncomfortable straps of your heels

“i’ll get you some water in a moment, alright?” kento offered, keeping his eyes on your closed ones as he slid your heel off your foot and placed it by his side. you kept your eyes shut and nodded, letting nanami manhandle your limbs freely

he placed your now bare foot down on his hard thigh and reached for your other leg, cupping your shin in his hold as he repeated the same process once more. kento dragged his warm hands down the length of your shin, applying just the right amount of pressure, working out the knots in your shin, his other massaging the sides of the heel of your foot

“mmmm…” you softly moaned through your lips, feeling the tention leave your body as nanami worked out the knots in your tired legs and feet. “feel good?” kento asked? his eyes flitting between your beautiful leg and your pretty, relaxed face

“yeah, thank you kento. this is just what i needed.” you responded, fully resting the weight of your head in your hand. kento smiled and continued squeezing and pressing his hand and nimble fingers over the top of your foot and around the sides, making sure he didn’t apply too much pressure to the bottom of your foot that was already sore

kento’s heart felt full and his mind content as he massaged you, watching how your eyebrows knit and unknit as he listened to the pleasured sounds of your appreciative huffs and moans. you couldn’t help but crack your eyes open and smile down at him when you felt his plush lips against your ankle

nanami had lifted your leg to his face and had started peppering kisses up your shin, and a few on the top of your foot. his loving action made you sit up after you locked eyes

you sat up and leaned forward, resting your foot on his upper thigh, his hand still holding your ankle tight as you leaned in and cupped his hand in your face. you were going to speak, tell him how much you loved him, but instead you kept silent, staring into his eyes, looking at the right and the left, just cherishing this moment with him

after some amount of time, you leaned forward and captured his lips in a soft, gentle, lasting kiss. one that made the both of you gently inhale at, your eyebrows knitting the longer your lips stayed against his.

a soft clicking sound echoed between the two of you when you separated from him, rubbing your thumbs in circles against his temples softly as you stared into his eyes with a gently smile on your face

#idk what came over me #i had to elaborate

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lunargrapejuice · 21 days

Note

Luna this isn’t a request per say just me filled with unbridled lust for Diluc…….but think about him losing his virginity to you where you sit on the bar at the Angels Share after closing jdhdhxhdh

he is such a sweetheart and gentleman but, he just couldn’t wait any longer to sink his big cock into his beloved right there aahh ♥️ ꒰ ′̥̥̥ ⌑ ‵̥̥̥ ꒱

oh my lordddd gray😭🩷 this.. im totally normal about it - i'm going to go cry over him now🤭❤️

diluc ragnvindr x afab!reader | 3.5k+ words

warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, virigin!diluc, sappy love making i couldn't help myself, no pronouns used for reader though reader is wearing a dress

“are you sure there’s nothing i can help with?” you ask diluc with a bit of a pout as he helps you up onto the counter behind the bar on the spot he had wiped down for you. the spot you were becoming more and more familiar with each day you visited angels share to come see him and stayed till past closing time.

you know how stubborn your boyfriend is when it comes to doing things himself but helping close up the tavern didn’t have to be one of them. you really didn’t mind helping and yet, like each time you’ve offered before, a smile with his soft expression and a shake of his head before he leans in to kiss your cheek and decline your offer.

“i won’t be long,” he promises, the warmth of his lips on your skin when he presses them on your cheek at the same time his hands help tug down the hem of your dress and keep you covered.

his touch lingers as though he hadn’t wanted to pull away and truthfully, he hadn’t. his heart had been beating out of sync ever since you walked through the doors of the tavern and even when he thought it was finally getting back to normal, you would laugh or call his name and he would feel the uncontrollable fluter in his chest. and archons when his eyes betrayed him and he caught more than a few glances of your bare thighs under the hem of your dress and the soft skin of your chest where it dips in a perfect display of your chest, heat spread through his entire body like wildfire.

it lingers still at the swipe of his thumbs on your thighs, leather covered fingers barely sliding under the fabric of your dress, before he forces himself to pull away and hurry upstairs to clean up.

you swing your legs back and forth and listen to the familiar boot steps of diluc from upstairs, feeling your skin still tingle from where he had touched you and the way you ache for more. it wasn’t a new feeling when it came to diluc but you swore it was growing more every day.

it’s not long before he returns to behind the bar with glasses in his hands, placing them in the sink not far from you and you stare at him for far longer than you should, drinking in every bit of him; the way his hair cascades down his broad shoulders and back like a crimson waterfall, collected in a dark ribbon. the curve of his nose and lips that you want to kiss every inch of. the stretch of the fabric of his outfit around his muscular build as he moves and flexes. the band around his thigh that peeks out from behind his coat when he walks.

diluc can feel your eyes on him but it’s not as though he could say he didn’t understand, though it didn’t stop his cheeks from warming. you had always caught his attention. before and after you promised yourself to him, he could not take his eyes off of you and if anything, it had only grown since he became yours. even from the second floor only minutes ago, he stole many glances at you patiently waiting for him and picked up his pace to help ease the want for you that he feels in every fiber of his being.

and perhaps he should have known the danger of indulging in it before he was finished closing. just a bit, he told himself with the step he took that brought him between your legs, but there was nothing within him that could settle for ‘just a bit’ when everything he felt for you burned more intensely than the flames of his vision and the pyro archon herself.

your skin glows under the warm light of the tavern and he catches the sparkle in your eye, the smile on your face, before you’ve captured him in a sweet kiss and his lashes flutter closed at the feeling of his lips on yours. it’s perfect. you’re perfect and he can’t believe you’ve chosen him out of everyone in teyvat but you have long been burned into his very soul and he never ever wants to let you go.

it’s an overwhelming feeling that makes it near impossible to pull away from you at this moment, not that he wants to. no, he needs more of you. always more until he worries his love might devour you both but you have never been afraid, not of his flames or the darkness that follows him and certainly not of the ways he shows you how he feels about you.

strong hands come to rest on your sides, gently squeezing you with the break and reconnection of your lips but they move to your back when diluc deepens the kiss, passionate and heart stopping, your bum moving along the fabric of your dress as he pulls you flush against him and in turn you wrap your arms around his neck.

he groans low, like he was trying to swallow it, when your thighs flex around his torso at the touch of your tongues and his grip on you tightens, somehow trying to pull you away and closer to him at the same time. it’s too much and not enough and even if it felt like it might kill him to part from you right now, if he doesn’t stop himself -

“‘luc-” your voice is breathless, barely audible through your kisses and joined by an involuntary rock of your hips against his that makes him suck in a quick breath, one large hand coming to grip your hip and still your movements.

resting his forehead on yours, trying to take in a breath to calm himself, he replies in a whisper of your name, his voice thick and heavy with not want but need. nothing is helping bring him from this place of burning desire and love. every breath he takes is full of your sweet scent and what lingers of the non alcoholic drink he made you tonight. underneath his palms is only you, your softness and warmth that's like pure sunlight rather than any flames he’s known. the taste of you is on his tongue and his kiss swollen lips and you fit perfectly against him with your hips still flush, the pressure of his cock straining against his pants and trying to avoid the most intimate part of you even though it’s hard, so fucking hard, only for you.

his cheeks burn, his heart thumping so loudly he can hear it under your panting breaths. he needs you so badly. he loves you more than he thought he ever could and beyond what he deserves but you’re clinging to him like you need him just as much, like you love him with the same intensity he feels for you. it’s all he can feel, all he can think about, all he can focus on, when he asks, “can i.. can i touch you?”

you’re eager to nod your head, feeling his bangs tickle your skin. “please,” you all but whimper, your arms around his neck pulling with little force to bring him to your lips once more.

with ease he helps you settle more comfortably on your butt and your legs spread for him. he breaks your kiss, pulling away from you, much to your hearts dismay, but you can still feel how close he is and when your eyes slowly open, your vision clears to watch diluc pull off his last glove, revealing the pale scarred hands you longed to feel all over you.

they’re beautiful, just like the rest of him and the feel of them on your bare thighs, right underneath your dress, so calloused and warm, makes your body burst like a skyline full of fireworks and its as if the stars in the sky are exploding alongside them with every nerve he lights on fire when his lips meet your neck.

almost achingly slow and with a detectable tremble, his hands move up your thighs as he kisses the delicate skin of your neck. your legs spread wider, your hands sinking into his hair, and at the slightest graze of his fingers on the wet spot pooling on your panties your legs begin to shake.

“is this okay?” he asks, heated lips lingering on your neck, his fingers just barely out of reach from where you needed them the most right now while he awaits your reply, still shaking with anticipation and desire.

one of your hands moves from his neck, cupping his chin and bringing him to look at you. “yes, more than okay,” you assure him, your eyes locking for a moment and then you’re kissing him, sweet and slow.

his movements are intentional, achingly tender like he worries you might break under too much pressure as he moves your panties to the side and lets his fingers delve into the soft silkiness of your pussy, sticky and warm and so receptive to his touch.

chest rising and falling with deep breaths that only fuel the fire within him, dark scarlet eyes take in and memorize your every reaction to the pads of his fingers stroking up and down your wet folds. he takes note of every place your hips buck up and your lips part, everytime your knees tremble at the pressure on your little bundle of nerves and you tug at his hair that sent pleasure straight to his cock.

fuck he thinks he could cum just from touching you, from watching you unravel from pleasure. all because of him, only for him. and he feels his boxers getting sticky with precum when his fingers slide down to your entrance and he sinks a thick digit into you.

you’re so wet your essence starts to soak his palm the deeper he pushes into you and when he adds a second finger, feeling how tight you are around them, the lewd sounds of your pussy join the noises he pulls from you with every pump of his fingers. they’re inexperienced but quick to learn; so wonderful in their thickness, their attentiveness to you, and it doesn’t take diluc long to figure out where to touch to have you crying out his name.

and you think you might cry period. this.. diluc.. everything feels so wonderful, like you are made for each other; two halves that have finally reunited but are on the precipice of fusing together in a way they never have before and you want him in every way he’ll let you have him, want to give him every single part of you, now and forever.

diluc wants to give you the same. please take all of him, accept all of him; every broken piece that you always seem to handle with such love. he wants to continue taking in your every reaction to but his lips ache to be with yours once more and with his free hand, he pulls you into a kiss, curling his fingers inside of you, finding that perfect spot at the same moment his tongue delves into your mouth and you moan into it, pull him closer, deeper and he feels the last of his control to not take you on the bar, lose his virginity in the tavern, slipping. he’s desperate to show you in this way how much you mean to him, what you do to him.

though there's never been any doubt in his mind this is what he wanted with you, he’s never been with anyone in this way and he’d never thought your first time would be on the bar top but there is no denying how right this feels, that he can’t wait unless you need him to.

breaking your kiss, he says your name, his tone serious and the movements of his fingers stop slowly after. messy and sticky they leave you terribly empty and your eyes open in protest. you’re met with an expression that is overwhelming, breath stealing, full of so so many emotions you don’t know where to begin to describe them but behind it all is pure, burning, love that you can never be without again.

“i won’t be able to hold back any longer if we continue,” he says and his deep tone makes the heat between your legs intensify, your cheeks flush and your hands hold onto him like he might slip from your grasp. “tell me to sto-”

you don’t let him finish before you’re closing the distance between your lips. that was the very last thing you wanted, your heart couldn't handle even hearing the words from him unless it’s what he wanted. “don’t stop. please diluc don’t stop.”

without breaking your kisses or the devouring of your tongues, in his seemingly endless strength, he lifts you from the counter and pulls your panties to your knees in one swift motion, swallowing your little yelp of surprise. a string of saliva still connects you when he has to pull away with panting breaths and it breaks against his lips like a glossy sheen as he takes a small step back to guide your underwear the rest of the way down your legs.

he sheds his coat too, putting both on the counter next to you, never taking his attention away from you; the glistening of your wet pussy in the tavern light, your heaving chest close to spilling out of your dress and the most beautiful expression on your face.

you shift, your dress falling over the top of your legs as you reach for him. with his fingers laced with yours, together you unbuckle his belt and undo the lacing of his pants. you let him pull down his boxers, freeing his cock that makes your mouth water and your cunt clench around nothing. it’s unbelievable, so big and thick, and flushed pink, his mushroom tip sticky with pre and feels heavy in your hand in a way that makes your head dizzy.

“you have no idea what you do to me,” he tries to get the words out as you pump him slow and the space between you becomes non-existent but they come out in nearly a growl through his clenched teeth at the way your hand feels around him. it's like nothing else, not even close to how his own hand has felt when he lost himself to thoughts of you, and he can hardly fathom what it will feel like to be inside of you.

every breath you share, every heart beat in tandem with the others, there is only you two in the world right now and even if it is not what he had thought for your first time making love, no candle light or rose petals or silken sheets, there only ever needed to be you. the holder of his heart and your own that you had given a man as unworthy as him in return, that he would protect and love until the light in his vision goes out.

his hands are desperate for you, holding you at the edge of the counter while he moves your dress to pool around your hips and you guide his cock to your entrance. his hand wraps around your wrist, pulling your hand away from his throbbing length and bringing it back around his neck.

“i love you.” it’s not the first time he’s confessed the words to you, nor would it be the last, but as if to emphasize how true they actually are, he seals the words with a kiss, his hold on you trembling with held back strength as he lowers you onto his cock.

a breathless moan of your name escapes his throat and he worries his hold on you may bruise but his sanity and control are slipping the deeper he is inside of your tight walls but he’s completely captivated, utterly drunk, off of your every reaction that tells him not to stop.

you have no other words to describe it other than you’re clinging to him in every way possible. your hands buried in thick crimson locks, your legs around his slim waist, your lips locked, your pussy so fucking full of him. it’s a delicious stretch that has you whimpering and never ever wanting this to end.

when he’s fully sheathed inside you, his head drops to your chest, taking in a shuddering breath, the softness of his messy curls on your breasts and neck only adding to every sensation you are feeling.

“i love you - i love you so much,” you’re finally able to reply, moving your hips and hearing the deep gasp he can’t hold back before kissing your chest and thrusting his hips, pulling out to nearly the tip with a groan against your skin and pushing back into you slow as he litters your chest with his love, heated, messy and that make your skin tingle.

your words only spur him on, make his heart surge in its need to give you everything, and he can’t be apart from your lips for a moment longer. he keeps his slow pace, pulling away from your chest and looking at you through heavy lashes and dark scarlet eyes that kindle with fire for just long enough to capture and drink in your beauty before his lips are devouring yours.

the slapping of his heavy balls against your bum that’s barely on the counter anymore fills the empty tavern, joins the murmurs of love and pleasure that escape you both. dilucs pace becomes faster, hitting the deepest part of you until he finds a rhythm that has you squeezing around him, your teeth nipping at his bottom lip and when he brings you down on his length in time with his thrust in turn, you sweetly cry out his name.

he’s so lost in the way you feel, how desperately you hold him and he’s ready to burst at any moment but there is no doubt to him that your pleasure is his own and he’d use every once of his will power to ensure you found yours before he even considered his. diluc wanted nothing more than to make you feel good, to give you pleasure in a way no one else can, to love you.

“‘m so.. so close,” you say as though you had known what was within him, what the deepest part of his heart craves but there’s no denying your words of rapture also go straight to his cock.

he buries his face in your neck, trying to hold back the sounds that bubble up his throat, clenching his teeth as he rocks in and out you. he holds onto you as tightly as he is the last bit of his sanity but his head is dizzy, overwhelmed with the feel of your soft skin under the grasp of his fingers and the way you squeeze around his cock like he’s never experienced before and the way his heart is beating its way through his chest to get to you, as close as it possibly can.

“ahh! diluc - !”

the pressure between your legs gives way, your velvety walls sucking him in, clenching around his cock so tight he can’t even breathe and there is no question that where he holds you in his hands will bruise later. he captures your lips, his kiss as intense and searing as the orgasm that washes over him within seconds. the wanton whimper you let out from being stuffed so full of him and his plentiful cum is as lovely as it is sinful, one he will never forget, one he wants to hear again and again.

a salty droplet catches on the corner of his lips that are pressed against yours and so quickly, too quickly than you could handle, he pulls away from you. he can’t let you go but his heart is hammering in his chest at the sight of the crystalline tears clinging to your lashes.

“did i hurt you?” his voice is as shaky as his trust in himself with you is if he had lost himself too much.

“no!” you’re quick to reply, not wanting him to get any farther away from you than he already is or let his worries consume him when you were okay - archons you were so much more than just okay. you cup both of his cheeks in the home of your palms, your thumbs soothing over his pink hued cheeks. “not at all. i’m just..” you didn’t know if there was really a word to describe it. nothing you know feels like enough. “i’m so in love with you diluc.”

the relief, the happiness it brings him to hear you say that, is evident on his face, the way he leans into your touch, the cool wetness on your burning fingers from his own overflowing emotions.

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