#i just. it frustrates me so much. this is such a petty thing to get annoyed abt but it ANNOYS ME SO MUCH
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Oh how I loved him
Past Bakugou Katsuki x Reader
Context: You reminisce about your time with Katsuki
Note: Reader is currently married to Dilf Izuku but was with Katsuki in the past. Kane is Katsuki's son who is living with the Midoriyas.
"Did you love my dad?"
You paused at your crotcheting as you looked up at Kane. The blond boy held the TV remote as he sat on the couch near you, Koda sitting on his lap. You blinked, surprised that he would ask such a question.
Kane quickly got pink in the face, his ears glowing, realising what he had just asked you. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ask that. I-"
"I did." Your answer silenced him as he turned to look at you, his crimson eyes, so much like Katsuki's, wide and innocent. Beautiful and passionate. You smiled gently as you set down your needles in your lap. You sighed. "Your father wasn't a bad person. Not at all. He was loud sometimes, petty as a donkey, grumpy at least half the time, always complaining about something, would never shut up about wanting to be number one but..." You leaned back in your husband's recliner as you smiled as you stared up at the ceiling, old memories about your ex-boyfriend flooding you. "Oh... how I loved Bakugou Katsuki."
"You... you did?" You turned to look at Kane who looked eager to know but was keeping himself seated for the sake of the little four year old green haired boy that napped in his lap.
You nodded your head. "He was a good boyfriend, a good man, despite how he seemed." You started. "And I've actually been meaning to show you something." You motioned for him to pass the TV remote, which he did. You easily caught it as you connected your phone to the TV and easily moved to your Cloud storage trying to find something. "Where is.... Ah! There it is." You tapped a photo.
On the screen was a picture of you much younger than you were now. A huge smile was on your face as you were dressed in Katsuki's large black skull t-shirt as he stood behind you shirtless. The both of you were a mess of flour but a huge smile that one couldn't have known possible, was on Katsuki's face. You caressed his cheek as you leaned against him.
"Your father has such a small heart, but when he gives it to you, its the warmest thing you'll ever feel in your life."
You lay on the bed, your phone facing down as you sat with a book in your hand. You heard the front door of your apartment open but you didn't bother to get up off the bed and go and see your boyfriend who had just arrived. You flipped the page as you tried to resubmerge yourself in the story.
With a heavy sound of his feet, Katsuki pushed open the door to see you sitting on your shared bed. The blond ProHero frowned as you didn't even look up at him. He held the strap of his work bag on his shoulder tighter as he settled his crimson eyes on you. "Y/N." His gruff voice came out.
"Hm?" You let out with a hum, only glancing up at him for less than a second before looking back down into your lap. "Hello Katsuki."
Katsuki's frown deepened. "Come on Y/N, I'm sorry." He apologised. "Is that what you want me to say?" You didn't answer him as you flipped the page of your book. Katsuki let out a frustrated groan as he moved to drop his bag inside his closet before walking into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.
Admittedly, Katsuki had had a bad day at work (and everyone in the DynaRiot agency could feel it). The reason for his bad day was because you were mad at him. Katsuki had spent another overnight shift when he had promised to spend time with you. By the time he had come back home at an unholy hour of the night, candles were burnt out, your favourite shared snacks were still on the coffee table and you were nowhere to be found but in bed, far away from Katsuki's side.
Katsuki admits, he had been so focused on chasing the Number One spot on the rankings, having just entered the Top ten with Deku, that he was putting time with you in the back burner. He would also admit that he had promised you multiple times this month to spend time with you but hadn't put in the effort.
You had every right to be mad at him.
Hell, Katsuki was mad at him.
Which was why he decided to try.
Katsuki wasn't sure half the time what he was supposed to do as a boyfriend, but he tried. Which is how he found himself in the kitchen setting things up and putting on an apron around himself. You hadn't move from outside the bedroom, no matter anything that Katsuki did, so now he was determined to try and spend time with you.
With the counter having everything you would need, Katsuki marched to the bedroom to where you were.
The door opened and Katsuki made a bee-line to you. You looked up from your book, a raised eyebrow coming onto your face. Before you could even speak, you felt large hands grab at you and hoist you up from bed. "KATSUKI!" You shouted as he hauled you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and marched straight out of the room. You wiggled, trying to get him to put you down, beating against his back to do so. "PUT ME DOWN! WHERE ON EARTH ARE YOU TAKING ME!" You shouted.
Katsuki went down the stairs and walked to the kitchen. He put you down on the tiled floor on your own two feet. He grabbed your apron, tying it around you before motioning to the counter.
You noticed eggs, milk, sugar, vanilla essance, everything you would need to make.... "Katsuki, what-"
"We're making cupcakes." He told you with a serious look on his face, not a hint of a joke on his lips. Then again, Katsuki was never good at joking.
Your face fell as you looked at him, not pleased by his attempt of bridging the gap between you. "And who said I want to make cupcakes with you?"
"Me." He stated as he grabbed the whisk and handed it to you. He moved over to the counter. "Now do you want vanilla or chocolate cupcakes?" He asked, minding himself as he grabbed two eggs and began to crack them.
You rolled your eyes. "I don't want cupcakes, Katsuki."
"Chocolate it is."
"Katsuki, are you listening to me?" You asked as you put your hands on your hips.
Katsuki moved to grab the milk and butter. "Pass me the flour, babe."
"Katsuki!" You frowned as you looked at the stubborn blond that seemed set on spending time with you this way. You looked at the open bag of flour. You grabbed a fist full. "Here's your stupid flour!" You shouted as you threw it at him, making Katsuki pause as white cake flour landed on his face and shoulder.
Your face fell as you realised what you did. You quickly slapped your other hand over your face as he slowly turned to you. He stared at you unblinkingly making you snort. You couldn't help the giggles that went through you as you tried not to laugh.
Katsuki raised an eyebrow. "Oh so you think this is funny huh?" He asked unamused.
"Katsuki I-" You giggled. "I'm so sorry. I-" You were interupted by a egg yoke landing straight at your chest making you freeze.
Katsuki stood with a wet hand that scooped up the eggs he had put in the bowl. He stood with a smug face as he stared at you. He tilted his head to the side, blond tufts of hair letting sprinkles of flour fall. "You know, I think I like you like this." You glared at him. You quickly lunged to the flour but Katsuki saw your plan. "Oh no you don't!"
You managed to grab a handful before he grabbed more. You threw it straight at his hair, making his hair more pale than blond. He threw the flour right back at you, making you gasp in shock. He quickly grabbed you and held you in his arms to stop you from grabbing more flour. You couldn't help but giggle as you took his hands and tickled your middrift.
"AH! Katsuki! KA- TSUKI LET GO OF ME! HAHAHA! OW! LET GO!"
"It's not funny now is it?" He asked with a loud laugh as he tickled you and held you in his strong big arms, lifting you off the ground so that you felt helpless. He managed to find the spot that had you squealing and squirming.
"AAHHHH!"
He laughed at you as he held you. "Say it! Say it!"
You tried to hold back but the tears in your eyes said otherwise. "I'm sorry! I'M SORRY!"
"and..."
"I FORGIVE YOU! AH- KATSUKI!"
He chuckled as he stopped tickling you, leaving you a giggling mess in his arms as he spun you to have your chest against his. He had a broad smile on your face as he watched the restless giggles and snorts leave your mouth.
He bent down to put his forehead against yours, allowing you to calm down as his thumb brushed at your hips. You opened your eyes to look into his own. You could tell his was sorry, you could tell that he was apologetic. You smiled as you cupped the side of his face, kissing his nose making him hum as he leaned in to kiss your lips.
Katsuki sometimes didn't have the words to say what he wanted to say. But his eyes and actions spoke enough for him.
He hummed as he leaned back. "You're my everything." He let out lowly.
You giggled as you nodded. "I know. You can't live without me."
"I can't."
"I'm glad we both agree." You grinned with soft giggles stumbling out of your chest making him laugh as he pulled you into his arms again.
You chuckled as you leaned back. "He was so petty! I honestly don't know what is up with me and falling in love with petty men." You recalled making Kane laugh.
"What about petty men?" Izuku stepped in, dressed in home clothes but holding his work bag as he was now in sight.
You smiled. "Izuku! How was work? I was just telling Kane some stories about his father." You told your husband.
You watched your husband's eyebrows raise. Kane hadn't spoken a word about his father or how he was feeling towards Katsuki since he had moved in with your family after being kicked out. He glanced between you and the blond boy on the couch. He smiled easy, not feeling worried at all. "Let me put down my things. I should tell him about the time me and Kacchan got caught fighting in Delta in the middle of the night for the fourth time by Sensei Aizawa."
"Fourth time!?" Kane asked shocked.
You giggled as you leaned back. "Izuku was a problem child."
"Hey! I wasn't a problem child I was just..." He walked over to you, leaning down. "Different." He offered up. You looked at him not convinced making him chuckle as he leaned down and kissed your lips. He smiled as he walked over to Kane ruffling his blond hair, making the blond scowl. "To be fair, your father started it."
-Glitch1d
#bakugou x reader#katsuki bakugou#bakugou katuski x reader#bakugou katsuki#bakugou#katsuki bakugo x reader#dilf izuku midoriya#dilf izuku x reader#katsuki x reader#katsuki x you#katsuki bakugo#bakugou katsuki x reader
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ghost in the machine
summary: Matsukawa x F!Reader. sometimes two people love each other very much. sometimes they do terrible things to each other.
word count: 1k
cw: cheating, extremely toxic relationship, no one here is likable, breakup, no happy ending
a/n: my bad i was going through something. sorry to the seijoh community. enjoy?
Issei meets you at the train station. It's dry now, but it was raining earlier—his hair is sticking to his face, curling even more than usual in the humidity. He doesn't "believe" in using umbrellas, whatever that means, or in standing beneath the rain shelter, apparently.
"Hey," you say, affecting nonchalance. The look on his face is familiar to you, signalling further storms ahead. You put your hands in his and press your mouth into a little frown. "What's wrong?
"Don't act cute," he says, glancing away, but he doesn't take his hands out of your hold. "This is—hard enough."
Issei does this thing, when he's mad at you, taking longer and longer pauses as he speaks. Leaves you hanging and still chooses all the wrong words.
"Issei, what happened?" You say. You look around, but there's no one else at the station: it's a dismal day, and his workplace is out of the way of pretty much all other human life. Fitting.
He rubs a thumb over yours, slow, pensive.
"I'm just gonna rip the band-aid off," he says, and you almost snort. There's been nothing quick about this process. "I think we should stop seeing each other."
"Another break?" You ask, trying to keep your voice light. "So you can fuck your new building receptionist?"
That's not light. Oops.
"How do you—whatever. No. That's not it. Don't be like that."
"It's what it was last time," you say, frustrated. "And Makki mentioned that he thought she was hot, which means you think she is."
"I don't, and that's not even the point," he sighs. "See, this is what I mean."
"You do," you insist. "But what is your point?"
"My point," he grits, thumb rubbing harder, strong fingers digging into your flesh so hard it almost hurts. "Is that we need to end this. Not a break. We need to break up."
"No," you say, blinking away tears. "I thought we were working on things. I thought we were better."
He pauses again. You let yourself fill up with big, stupid hope, leaning a little closer to him. All you want is one of his hugs, warm and solid and loving. Love me, you want to sob, you don't love me?
You don't, because you would be proving his point. You don't want to guilt him. You don't want to hurt him. You feel nauseous. The whole world is wrong, everything is going wrong.
He doesn’t give you what you need.
"I feel sick," he echoes your thoughts. "All the time. What we're doing to each other—I care about you, I want you to be happy. We—I don't make you happy."
"You do," you plead. "No one else makes me happy like you."
"But that's, like, five percent of the time," he says, jerking you a little closer. You know it's subconscious and it makes you emit a little noise, soft, one you don't want him to hear. "The rest of the time we, we fight, and we get petty, and we act like kids. It's not what it should be."
"I don't care what it should be," you flash. "I don't want whatever it should be. I want this. I think it's worth it. I want to fight for it."
"Well, I don't!" His eyes are burning. You think there's something shimmering in his waterline. "I'm tired. It's—you jerk me around like bait, on a string. I am tired of taking breaks, and getting back at each other, and—"
"I jerk you around?" You say. "Issei, you suggested the first break, you slept with—"
"I know what I did," his voice sounds defeated even as you can hear the underlying anger—deeper, the underlying hurt. "That's what I'm saying, we're damaged, I really don't care whose fault it is."
"Except you clearly think it's mine," you argue. It’s fucked up, that this is what fighting for your love means; how twisted has your knight-and-princess story become?
“Shut up! Just stop—just stop talking for a second.” You press your fingers tentatively to the right corner of his temple and rub small circles into the skin, knowing that’s where he gets headaches from grinding his jaw when you’re driving him crazy. He lets you for a moment, then shakes his head, bats you away. “You shouldn’t let me talk to you like that.”
“I won’t,” you say. “You won’t talk to me like that anymore.”
“That’s so fucked up,” he chokes out a laugh. His dark eyes crease so prettily when he does. “Don’t do that. With the next guy—”
“There’s no next guy!” You yelp, fingers flexing, not sure what to hold on to. If he’s letting go of his jealousy—the world tilts dizzily. He used to tell you, face in a lazy cat smile, body warm and heavy atop yours, that you’d find your next boyfriends on his mortuary table. “What, Issei, there’s not gonna be anyone else ever.”
His lips twist into a sardonic smile. He lets go of you, his hands shaking like he’s just been shocked, cartoon-style, electricity working its way through his body. You reach for him and he shoves his hands in his pockets, lets you stumble over your feet.
“I know you slept with Makki,” Issei says grimly. You stop in your tracks.
“Oh.”
“Oh,” he agreed. “Yeah.”
There’s not a lot to say to that. It doesn’t matter that it was during the worst breakup, a year ago, that it was because you’d seen him kissing one of your friends at a party. It doesn’t matter that it had been a mistake.
“I’m sorry,” you say, and the tears are rolling down your face again. Or it’s started raining. Both. “I’m so sorry. I know.”
There’s an awful screech when the train arrives—his train, going deeper into the country. Yours, back to the city, is due in eight minutes. You can’t stop anything from leaving this station.
“It’s okay. It’s like you said,” he puts his hands on his shoulders, presses a lingering kiss to your forehead, his lips wet with cold rainwater. When did it start pouring? “He thought she was hot, so so did I. I love you, so so did he.”
#makki might be the true victim in all of this#haikyuu!! x reader#haikyuu x reader#hq x reader#hq!! x reader#hq angst#haikyuu!! angst#hq!! angst#haikyuu angst#matsukawa angst#matsukawa issei x reader#matsukawa x reader#matsukawa issei x reader angst#matsukawa issei angst#mattsun x reader#mattsun x reader angst
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me: "it's okay if people are wrong about things, people are allowed to be wrong about things, it's not a big deal."
someone: [refers to any Link other than the one in Ocarina of Time/Majora's Mask as the Hero of Time and/or refers to any Zelda other than the one in Skyward Sword as Hylia's reincarnation]
me: "I am going to gnaw through their arm like a beaver would a tree"
#it's SO ANNOYING it is literally my BIGGEST pet peeve#there is only ONE Hero of Time & that is the one from Ocarina/Majora!#the others are Heroes of DIFFERENT THINGS#and the ONLY Zelda that is a goddess reborn as a mortal is the one in Skyward Sword!#the others are HER DESCENDANTS#Demise cursed ZELDA'S BLOODLINE - ''the blood of the goddess'' means THE CHILDREN & GRANDCHILDREN ETC ETC THAT CAME FROM HER#and fucksake in Wind Waker - the first mainline game to come after Majora's Mask - that Link is SPECIFICALLY dubbed the Hero of WINDS#if you play a NG+ to get the ancient Hylian translated they even specifically say he's NOT the Hero of Time and HAS NO RELATION to him#these games are not hard to understand! why does no one read the effing text!!!#AGH!!!!!!!!#(also the Spirit of the Hero is the unbreakable will - it's not the same person reincarnated again and again)#(the only one that is the ACTUAL same person is Ganon)#(and even then - by the time BotW takes place he's become so corrupted over the cycles that he's not really a *person* anymore)#(but just an entity of pure malice)#i just. it frustrates me so much. this is such a petty thing to get annoyed abt but it ANNOYS ME SO MUCH#anyway#oh also Twilight Princess is the PROOF that the Hero is not reincarnated over & over again#bc the Hero's Shade? THAT'S THE HERO OF TIME#he was unable to move on after death bc he had no one to pass his skills onto#so he persisted until he could teach them to the Hero of Twilight#who very obviously can't be him reincarnated bc HIS SPIRIT IS STILL THERE#AS THE HERO'S SHADE#AGHHHHHHH drives me crazy#i realize this is me being a petty bitch but that's why it's called a PET PEEVE#i KNOW it's stupid but I'm still annoyed#a n y w a y
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for two weeks every four months i become math’s biggest hater, and for the rest of the time im just an average hater (very sad and frustrated)
#officially done half of my finals...just the other half left#and included in that half is...the dreaded calculus ii final exam god im so scared#my eyes are burning my wrist hurts my back aches from sitting in a chair for hours staring at three different screens doing practice#probelms that stopped making sense about. 2 hours ago#i hate differential equations so much why do we need to know these things. like. when will i ever need to know how to integrate by parts#when in life will i ever need to know whether a series converges absolutely conditionally or diverges#when am i ever going to need to understand volumes of revolutions w the stupid washers and shells and GRAAH#im going to be petty tongiht bc i know that this math cant even be considered hard bc its literally just fundamental courses#but im going to let myself be sad bc once i get out the sad and frustrated and mad i can go back to deriving power series of things#and everyone learns and processes things at different rates and its ok if i need to take twice as long to understand a theorem and proof#then a classmate who can understand it just by reading the course notes once. yeah#i actually feel pathetic rn. cant believe a first year math course has me this worked up. just need to get my shit together next study term#and stop complaining over every little thing#actually last little thing i love the ratio test it has done nothing wrong ever i love it so much (i hate the integral test)#limit comparison you are on thin fucking ice. ast you are just behind the ratio test#willows rambling branch
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man.
#i had this whole post ive been trying to formulate for so so long. abt my issues w ceewilbur and ccwilburisms and#to clarify i do like cwilb he is one of my faves. ik it may seem i wanna bite his arm off smtimes and i Do but#its mostly bitterness directed to the stuff Around him if that makes sense. yk the response to lots abt him#the way the overcompensation abt how he can be villanized swinging into a state where he Cant and never Did and wrong and if you critique#or acknowledge it you get snipped at and demeaned and treated like its a targeted hit on the mentally ill when its like#a mild disagreement with one of the most popular characters in the fanbase Easily#and w cc wil i do think he is just sm guy. im sure he's a nice dude idrc abt the ccs usually but he seems alright enough even tho he has v#goofy ahh takes and opinions but that doesnt make you Evil#but when i dive into what really has made me feel so alienated and snippy its. llmao its the racism yeah lol its super very much the racism#its very very prevelent and very common and very unchallenged. and it like. upsets me so bad its why i keep bailing on making my actual#full detailed post abt it. cuz everytime i try to formulate my thoughts i just get upset and frustrated i wanna rip my hair out#its hard not to feel like im talking to a wall when its so common and unchecked and. ive seen rightful critiques of these spaces and how#ppl interact with them Openly Mocked and brushed aside and treated like 'petty sensative internet drama' that ppl need to 'just get over'#sorry man im a fucking 🇲🇽 i cant exactly log off and Stop Experiencing Racism. and sorry that me feeling alienated and tired and sad abt#it is an inconvenience for you llol#and like idk. im not upset w anyone in particular this isnt a call out post or vague who give a shit and.#eh maybe im stupid but i really really believe a lot of ppl arent doing it on purpose#its just bein parroted ik i get it but#am i rlly not allowed to be tired? why should it feel like my responsibility to hold ppls hand and go hey mb treat poc and darker skinned#ppl like ppl. maybe you should examine why you need so many things made palatable to you through conventionally attractive whiteness first#idk. idk!!! am i crazy who fucking knows#but it has been weighing on me stupid style so bad#the shrinking fanbase and primarily yk common stragglers has just. rlly felt like a magnifying glass to my already existing issues abt it#idk man. idk im tired and im at work its 100°+ and my head hurts so this is all yr getting. lea me alone#and again this isnt a vague who Cares. just wanted to get it off my chest finally#huri.txt#discourse#<- ig
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i can't even complain about our cruel housemate without my angel making it about her.
#jesus fucking fuck.#i don't even want to get into that though i just want to vent about the housemate.#she cannot STAND me. she hates my guts dude#and it is so so obvious. she's so passive aggressive and cruel.#constantly.#and i can tell she wants me gone. but she's not gonna say anything. she's just gonna keep bullying me and hope i decide to leave.#well guess what bitch. i'm not going to.#i'm not gonna help you out.#you can't stand the flavor of mental illness i have.#you hate me because i am fat.#you hate that i have a gender identity you can't understand.#and you feel bad about it. boo fucking hoo.#[i'm not pulling that out of my ass btw those are the things she bullies me about.]#you feel bad that you're being forced to reconcile with the fact that you're a bigot. it's in direct contrast to the lies you tell yourself#about what a good little liberal you are. and how open minded you are.#and you don't want to be a bad person by kicking out the mentally ill trans person. because you know i'd be homeless.#and instead of recognizing that for what it is and going ''well no one is a saint clearly i need an outlet for my frustrations''#[bc expecting you to think ''i should work on my biases'' is obviously expecting too much lmao]#you just bully the absolute shit out of me all the fucking time and hope I'll just go away.#well i'm not gonna help you out.#i'm fucking miserable sure. i would probably be happier and feel safer homeless at this point.#but i stay out of pure pettiness.#you're going to have to kick me out and deal with the shame and cognitive dissonance.#i want that for you#fucking bitch.#—kieran#bite.txt
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I hate the dismisal of online lgbt spaces as not as important as in real life or what goes on within the spaces as not that bad, because for me at least, I don't have anyone I know in my area that I can talk to about being lgbt, and I'm relatively scared of selectiviely outing myself to find more people, because i really wouldnt want it to get back to my parents somehow.
My point is, online spaces are very important as a point of connection for the many of us that have no one irl, and I hate how any serious method of discussion gets turned into discourse. like people saying there is a severe amount of lesbophobia, biophobia, transmisogyny and racism in the community are not picking fights. we're trying to make this space better because for some of us its all we have! so please, do better.
#aster.txt#kind of a vent more than anything because its frustrating and i'm getting both nostalgia for the past and derision for it#there were two people i did know in my HS that are lgbt but they both moved to canada for uni#one of them is a total sweetheart and I miss talking to her so much#like they were such a wonderful person to complain about our schools stupid rules#and how shitty gender roles are and how conservative indian parents suck#and last i saw shes transfem since they made a secret priv account with she/they pronouns and them wearing a dress as the first post#i hope she found people that they could connect to where ever she is now#the other is not so positive a story lol#she is the main reason why my self esteem issues went from not that good to very bad#like her mind games and the fact that she called me clingy as an attempt to get another friend to stop being around them was shitty#i isolated myself from other people for a long time becasue i thought i would just ruin things if i got too close and showed my personality#despite her doing that i didnt actually hate her until i found out what she did to a friend of mine#my friend was having family issues because her father had tyroid cancer and her “friends” including that person forced her to tell them#and that person had the gall to say that what she was going through wasn't that bad and she should stop making stuff about herself#after they forced her to open up#god i hated high school uni isnt any better but i'm glad its not high school#so many petty people because we're all teenagers going through our own shit and we're still figuring things out#i'm half thinking of just unfollowing a lot of them on instagram becasue they sucked but no i wont do that..yet
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MIND GAMES ⋅˚₊ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅
── ✧ ˚. ꒰ pairing ꒱ ˒˓ bf!Jungkook x gf!reader ˒˓ established relationship genre/tags. smut, v small amount of angst, fluff, thigh riding, face sitting, body worshipping, jk lowkey simping hella hard in this & we love to see it <3 words. 1.4k
**old repost from my deleted blog
“Can you stop ignoring me please? It's driving me crazy.” You whine to your nonchalant boyfriend, urging him to mutter at least one word.
He has been giving you the silent treatment since this morning. You and Jungkook got into a petty argument that could've been easily resolved within seconds had he not just stormed out mid-convo.
Rightfully so— you were upset by him not wanting to talk things out and he got all defensive by saying you were ‘overreacting’. The bickering only spiraled from there and once you realized you had to leave for work you left without even saying goodbye.
You felt bad for not at least giving a peck on the cheek but you were slightly annoyed by how immature he could be at times. Once you came back home, you wanted to talk with him immediately to patch things up yet he's still being difficult with you. His silence was speaking mere volumes.
“So you're really going to play that game now huh? You know you can't ignore me forever Kook.” You snicker, all those pent up emotions filling you with an intense longing for him. “Can you say something?”
Jungkook remained quiet as a mouse, still refusing to speak, just sitting there examining you. Taking all of you in, basking in his own little glory. He wasn't trying to ignore you at first but now it has turned into a game for him. His only goal was seeing how far he could push your buttons until you break.
There was nothing more frustrating than craving someone's affection. His affection. Usually he'd give it to you on a silver platter, spoiling you with all the love and attention he could provide. But today — you were gonna have to work for it, and that you did.
Since talking wasn't the solution you try your best guess and think of something else. That's when an evil plan struck your mind — you were going to get a word of out him one way or another.
You were still wearing your work clothes so you strip naked right in front him, taking off every piece of clothing to only leave you in your panties. He tried to make it not so obvious that he was staring but you could feel his eyes on you the whole time. Still quiet, he looks up at you with his big, brown doe eyes — glancing over every inch of your bare form.
Licking his lips while leaning back on the couch he takes in all of you, losing himself in your alluring gaze. As much as he wanted to believe he had all the control in this situation, you played a deafening role in making sure this won't be an easy win for him.
As soon as you fully undressed you make your way over to Jungkook, subtly swaying your hips to send a rise out of him. Walking up to your boyfriend you find yourself straddling his thighs between your legs, the bitter silence only creating a thicker tension. His face looked so innocent, you couldn't help but go in to kiss him. Grabbing the side of his face to pull him in for a sweet, sensual kiss, molding your lips to match his hungry movement.
He was passionate with the kiss — almost leaving you winded by the end. You could tell that he's been holding that in since this morning, you couldn't open your eyes afterwards, savoring in the taste of him on your tongue.
“I'm an asshole, sorry y/n. I don't know why I do the things I do sometimes… but l'm thankful I have someone as patient as you in my life.” Jungkook finally spoke, his gentle tone brings you a familiar source of comfort.
Heated make outs turned you both into even more dangerous territory. A constant rush of heat surges throughout your body, leading all the way down to your aching core, you swung your head back in pleasure while riding your boyfriend's pretty, muscular thighs. The light-blue distressed jeans he wore showing just the slightest bit of skin to make you go feral. The weak, sweaty kisses in between rutting against him — the friction of his jeans grazing over your clothed heat, making you feverishly whimper out for him.
Jungkook couldn't keep his hands off you if he tried. Everything about you is absolutely stunning and perfect to him. His hands dance along the perimeters of your body, tracing every line and curve of your heavenly beauty — embarking on the notion that you are all his. He needs to show how grateful and lucky he is to have you more often.
“God... need you so bad right now..I don't wanna waste another second without having my cock inside you.” He keens, migrating his lips up the side of your earlobe.
He's going to have to put in the work to get a reward like that though.
“I want you to eat me out then we can talk later.” You boldly counter, not even giving him an option at this point.
His face lights up with an idea, “Wanna sit on my face princess?” You nod right away, letting Jungkook maneuver you to the side so he could lye down comfortably — he looks up at you with wandering eyes as you go in for another kiss. He hums into the kiss, moving his hands to grab your ass. It's beginning to become too unbearable to keep your panties on.
Breaking the kiss to remove your soaked underwear, you toss them on the floor and meet your boyfriend's handsome face once again.
The anticipation was killing him, he couldn't wait to devour your pretty little pussy already ;( As soon as you positioned yourself below him, he held onto your thighs with both hands — making eye contact with you as he pressed a kiss to your swollen bud.
Any minor touch to your clit makes you overtly sensitive, letting out a tiny mewl from the light action. His lips part open to dip his tongue into your wetness, “mmmh... fuck Koo” you hiss, already needing to brace yourself to not cum early. His mouth always works magic on you, leaving you with an earth-shattering orgasm every single time.
He flattens his tongue completely now, dragging a long stripe across your slit, drinking up all your essence, letting none of you go to waste. His face was so deeply buried into you all you could see now was the top of his head — grabbing a fistful of his messy hair to pull on later. You rock your hips back and forth to build more movement, grinding on his face while not having a care in the world if he could breathe or not.
From the looks of it, there were no complications on his end since he started moaning against you — the vibrations sending instant chills to your spine. You feel his nose brush up against your bundle of nerves, his tongue appears again to spread it’s brutal attack on your clit. His warmth on the sensitive sprout makes you jut your hips into a hastier motion.
“Shit... keep going just like that…i'll cum all over your face,” you cry out, feeling yourself close to making a huge mess and creaming all over his face.
“Cum on my face please, my precious little doll.” He only breaks away to say that quickly and attaches hisself back instantly.
Those words did it for you, it was like ultimate green light to reaching your climax. Two digits enter your weeping cunt and his tongue goes back to sucking on your puffy abused clit — the knot in your stomach tightens as he produces sloppier licks to your leaking folds.
A lusty, guttural moan escaped your lips, screaming your boyfriend's name at the top of your lungs. Jungkook keeps your hips steady with a tight grasp to help ride out your intense high; his knuckles turning white from how hard he was gripping. His face saturated with the glint of your sweet nectar, he licks his lips and savors the delicious taste of you, there's nothing that'll ever compare.
"So beautiful my baby.. so fucking gorgeous.." he chants under his breath, kissing the apex of your thighs. He'll never get tired of admiring your pretty body— or you in general.
Jungkook has always been more of a giver than a receiver, he likes to watch his partner writhe under him, loves when they cry and violently shake while he's giving them the most pleasurable moments of their life. He also likes to get what he wants in the end but that isn't always needed for him to be satisfied. He'll get his nut eventually, but in the meantime he's going to keep playing with you some more.
#jungkook x reader#jungkook drabble#jungkook drabbles#jungkook smut#jeon jungkook smut#jungkook imagine#bts smut
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in which: alhaitham resorts to lying on top of you in order to get you speaking to him again.
quick alhaitham thought i needed to get off my mind, making out at the end lol, potentially ooc
there were a lot of things you didn’t expect when entering a relationship with alhaitham. you didn't expect him to have kaveh as a roommate, you didn’t expect him to overthrow the government, and you didn’t expect him to resort to pettiness in order to end the silent treatment you were giving him.
it’s suffocating beneath him, squished into his soft mattress with his body weight, muscles wrapped around you like a python whilst one arm is extended outwards, balancing a book. you wonder if he’s actually reading it, but you can tell he’s enjoying himself regardless, evident through the way he often turns his head to place a kiss on your exposed collarbone, burying his face into your warmth from here to there.
for the umpteenth time, you grunt, losing your mind just a little. his body warmth was getting too much, and you’ve been lying here for who knows how long, just staring at the ceiling of his bedroom.
you want to protest, berate him for flattening you before shoving him off, but that would mean surrendering, and this time, you want alhaitham to be the one to give up first.
as if hearing your thoughts, your grey-haired lover then glances up at you, sleepy gaze filtered through messy strands of hair that have fallen in front of his eyes. you almost cave at the domesticity of it all, only just stopping yourself from brushing his bangs away.
“still upset?” he murmurs, putting his book face-down to wrap his arms tighter around your torso. “fine. have it your way, i’m going to nap.”
“no-” he perks up at the sound of your voice, raising an eyebrow as a mask of smugness gleams over his face. you shut your mouth immediately, cursing at yourself to slip up so easily, but you really needed to stretch out your legs and the other discomforts of lying like an unmoving plank beneath alhaitham.
“what was that?” challenges your boyfriend. you don’t answer him, merely staring him down as he sits back, grabbing your wrists. “oh come on, i know you want to say something, out with it.”
shaking your head, he scoffs at your stubbornness as if his isn’t just as frustrating, and gently caresses your hand. his touch is tantalising, urging you to give in, and paired with that lidded look of his, it’s practically impossible not to.
not many people get to see alhaitham like this, you realise. most know him as an indifferent, closed off, and unapproachable scribe, turned grand sage, turned scribe, yet you get the honour of seeing him as this. “talk to me already,” he demands gently, not letting his grip waver even as you keep trying to pull your hands away, only slipping away so far before he’s holding you again.
there aren’t many battles you can win against him, you know that, and one of them was a battle of strength. as he holds your wrists tight to your sides, his face so close to yours, you feel his earlier playfulness melting into something sincere.
“are you still mad?” asks alhaitham, furrowing his eyebrows slightly as a pout appears along his lips. the response you give him is a petulant turn of your head. he sighs through his nose. “i’m sorry, okay? i was out of line, i should have listened to you, alright?”
his tone is uncharacteristically kind and warm, warm enough for you to give in to his pleas.
“you mean it?” you tease, grinning widely at him. in the blink of an eye, the tension from alhaitham’s shoulder seeps away like sand, and he sighs with relief before agreeing, a solid ‘yes’ slipping through his mouth. “then i accept your apology.”
“you minx, enjoying the sight of me like this, aren't you-” he murmurs, and you swallow his brewing snide remarks with a kiss, closing the gap by firmly pressing your lips against his. alhaitham is not surprised by your sudden affection. rather, he welcomes it, melts into you wholly as a hand holds the back of your neck to keep you against him. you're warm and precious and everything he could ever desire, so he can't help but let his hands wander, searching for more.
as your mouths slot together, there’s a delicate exchange of apologies that words cannot express; ironic, since alhaitham knows of several ways to apologise in a multitude of languages. nevertheless, he thinks that this is the best method.
with the way you move in sync with him, he can tell that this is your favourite too.
© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.
#vibe check kinda fic for him#the way i am literally seething biting my hand and lips to try and not let the end escalate#alhaitham x reader#al-haitham x reader#al haitham x reader#genshin impact x reader#alhaitham fluff#al-haitham fluff#genshin x reader
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could i request a mark smut 😣😣 where reader and mark just had an intense argument but in the end, they cant be mad at each other for long so they just fck it out of each other 🤐🤐🤐🤐
mad at you | l.mk
“then i try to leave, but baby i just can’t stay mad at you”
💿now playing: mad at you by why don’t we
❯ summary: Mark learns that you’ve made a ‘selfish’ decision that’s bound to put a strain on your relationship. Next thing you know, you're knee-deep in an argument that somehow ends with you sprawled out beneath him; because, let’s be honest, he’s never really been any good at staying mad at you.
❯ pairings: idol!mark x fem!reader
❯ genre: angst, smut, established relationship, make up sex
❯ words: 4.3k
❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, lots of arguing, swearing, reader is lowkey dramatic, makeup sex, unprotected sex (don't do this!), nipple play, dry humping, brief clit play, slight needy mark bc i can't help myself, creampie, reader uses she/her pronouns, reader and mark argue and resolve it by fucking.
an: i love writing angsty arguments (testament to my real relationships lol) so thank you so much for this request. it lowkey brought me out of writer’s block.
The honeymoon stage lasts approximately thirty months or two and a half years – which would make sense considering you and Mark were approaching your third year together and have argued more recently than you ever had.
But this time it’s different. You’ve never seen Mark like this, so angry that his face is bordering red and his jaw ticks so hard it might crack as the both of you drive in complete silence from your work dinner. He doesn’t even bother sneaking his usual glances at you when he pulls up at stoplights, the hand he likes to place on your thigh is gripping the wheel instead, and the only noise in the car is his rugged and frustrated exhales.
You could feign ignorance about why he's upset, but you know the reason all too well. And while a part of you acknowledges his right to be angry, another, more prideful part, resists the idea of apologising, especially when you think his reaction seems so disproportionate to your mistake.
So you sit in the passenger seat, arms crossed and body frozen, contributing to the cold silence settling between the two of you. You prepare yourself for the earful of a lecture you’re about to get when he pulls up outside your shared apartment.
He parks the car, slams the door shut, and strides towards your building without a backward glance. You scoff at his pettiness; he's never been so angry that he wouldn't at least wait for you to get out of the car with him. He doesn't even slow down when you trail behind. And when he nearly lets the elevator doors close without you, any chance he has of receiving an apology from you flies out the window, you think.
He does, however, show some decency by leaving the front door open for you as you both step out of the elevator and head towards your apartment – how chivalrous.
The chivalry doesn’t last long because the minute he hears you clasp the door shut, he’s glaring at you, arms crossed tightly over his chest, and you can't help but notice that he's rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt in frustration. If he weren't on the brink of yelling at you, you'd be tempted to make him do more than just roll up those sleeves — you'd want the fabric torn off and thrown on the floor in an instant.
“Paris, Y/N?!” Mark seethes, voice deep and uneven. “You signed a fucking contract to work in Paris?!?”
You pause, attempting to gather your thoughts, but the momentary silence doesn't offer much clarity. Eventually, you settle on, "It's just a six-month gig..." – a statement that seems to send him into a frenzy.
“Just six months?” He rubs his jaw repeatedly in disbelief, “That’s six months that we won’t get to see each other, did you even think about that huh?”
You scoff, “You’re one to talk, need I remind you that your job takes you away from me for months at a time.”
"That's not fair," he protests. "You knew exactly what you were getting into when you agreed to date me. I didn’t agree to not seeing my girlfriend for months because she’s gallivanting away in Paris without me."
Your eyes narrow and your nostrils flare, “So what? If you would have known, you wouldn’t have wanted to be my boyfriend?”
His eyes widen and he shakes his head. His hands fly to his hair and he tugs at the strands as he huffs out a breath.
“How the fuck did you get that conclusion from what I said?” He asks, voice sounding baffled. “The reason I’m so mad is because I like being your boyfriend, but I’m not going to see you for the next six months.”
“You’re being a hypocrite right now.”
He rolls his eyes and scoffs, “Right, because I’m always the one being unreasonable.”
“Yes, you are,” you scorn, “This job is my dream, don’t you see how selfish you're being?”
“I’m selfish?” He gasps, “That’s rich considering you didn’t even consult me when making this decision, I had to find out from your smug little co-worker in front of everyone. You were thinking solely about yourself, Y/N.”
You're on the verge of screaming. How is he not seeing things from your perspective? He's usually so understanding, so open to hearing your side. But the razor-sharp look in his eyes tells you that there's no getting through to him. He's convinced you're wrong, and nothing will change his mind.
“It’s for my job, Mark,” you cross your arms and shrug.
“And how many times have I told you that you don’t need to work? How many times do I need to tell you I can look after the both of us?”
“And how many times have I told you that I don’t want that? I don’t want to have to always rely on you!” You snap.
Your teeth grit as the words spit out of your mouth. They seem to hit Mark, deep, his eyes softening for a fleeting moment before sharpening again. He swallows thickly and blinks before running a hand through his hair.
“Then what are we doing, Y/N?” He asks deflated, “What are we if you don’t want to rely on me?”
You're not sure what compels you to say it – whether it's the way you're all worked up, the entire context of the argument, or some inner recognition that you're the one who's fucked up this time despite you both having stuff to apologise for. Still, you escalate the situation from zero to one hundred without a second thought.
“Oh, so you want to break up?”
He shakes his head and tongues the inside of his cheek, “When did I say that?!”
The fight only gets worse after that, the two of you blowing up after every sentence. You run around in circles, throwing accusations and insults at each other to the point the original premise of the argument is lost along the way of a thousand new arguments. It’s like every little thing you’ve both done to irk each other over the last month is brought up; and by the end of it, the two of you swear you’re done with each other.
Sure, you've had your fair share of arguments, but the biting finality of the word "done" as it leaves his lips sends a sharp pang through your stomach – it hurts like hell. You've reached your limit with this endless cycle of back-and-forth; you've had enough of him. Storming past him, you head towards your shared bedroom.
Mark sighs and reaches out for your arm, but you pull away. He doesn't like this, doesn't like the chilliness he feels from you. He doesn't want to end the argument like this; it's never gone this far without a resolution before.
“You can’t just storm away when we argue Y/N, it’s childish.”
“If you don’t like it then leave!” You slam the door shut after you and lock it.
Mark hates this more, not being able to talk this out because you’ve put a wall between the two of you. Then your words register in his mind and he’s the most hurt he’s ever felt. You want him to leave. Fuck that, he thinks. He’s not going to watch his relationship go down the drain over a petty argument.
He knocks on the door a few times, then jiggles the doorknob, calling out your name and pleading for you to let him in. But you remain unmoved, denying him even the satisfaction of hearing your voice telling him to go away. This only adds to his frustration. He's the one you've upset, and yet here he is, begging for you to open up so he can fix things.
After a few more tries he scoffs, your words echoing in his mind once more. Leave. It crosses his mind as he makes his way to the front door of the apartment. He swings it open, ready to clear his head and crash at Johnny's for the night. But just as he's about to step out, he catches sight of a picture of the two of you on the coffee table where he keeps his keys.
It’s from your honeymoon phase when it was easier for the two of you to say you’d never let anything come between you – when love seemed to blind you both. Mark picks up the photo, memories flooding back to the day it was taken. It was the day you met his parents and shared your aspirations of becoming a fashion designer. You reassured them that you had your own dreams and weren't just with their son for his wealth – though his parents wouldn't have minded either way; they would have been content with any girl that made their son happy. And you made Mark happy – you make Mark so fucking happy.
Which is why he can’t believe he’s even considering leaving you in this apartment on your own after a fight. He shuts the front door and makes his way to the couch. He's eager to resolve things with you now, but both of you are too caught up in emotions, spouting shit you'll likely regret in the morning. So he opts to grab a few sofa pillows and a blanket from the storage closet instead. He strips down from his dress shirt and pants, throwing them to the floor before lying back and resting his eyes with a heavy mind.
Regret doesn't hit you until 2:00 am the following morning, when you're met with the chill of an empty space beside you as you reach out to cuddle your boyfriend, only to find him absent. Sure you thought he was overreacting to the news, but you're also painfully aware that your own words were uncalled for. You shouldn’t have asked him to leave – you didn’t want him to.
As you heard the front door open and then close with a clink, a thick lump formed in your throat. The realisation that you had driven him away hit you hard, and you lost all motivation. You lay on your bed, makeup still intact, as you sniffled and sobbed quietly into your pillow. And even now, after tossing and turning from your mind running laps, you’d only managed to sleep for a few minutes.
You stretch your stiff legs and reluctantly leave your bed, unlocking your bedroom door with sleepy eyes. You're taken aback when you see Mark sleeping soundly on the sofa, his breath steady with his eyes closed. You thought he had left, but there he is, covered only by the blanket from the storage closet. It breaks your heart to see him like this; he's likely cold, and he'll probably have a stiff neck in the morning for practice. And you know it's all your fault.
The guilt eats away at you, and without hesitation, you rush to the bedroom to grab his pillows and an extra blanket. Realistically, you should wake him up and insist he sleeps in bed, but the fear of his lingering anger keeps you from doing so. Instead, you kneel in front of him, attempting to swap the sofa pillows for his own bed pillows.
However, your efforts prove futile because Mark is a light sleeper – a detail you foolishly overlooked in your worried state of mind. He blinks as he wakes up once, then twice, appearing confused to find you in front of him in the living room instead of beside him in bed.
“Baby?” He whispers, his eyes hazy as he tries to make sense of what you're doing. It doesn’t take him long once he spots the sofa cushion in your hand to put the pieces together.
You bite your lip and sigh, “I know you're mad at me, but I didn’t want you to wake up stiff in the morning.”
Mark's chest constricts. How could he possibly stay mad at you when you're so cute, fussing over him like this? He notices the smudge of black makeup beneath your eye, and his heart tightens once more – this time with sadness rather than affection.
His hand reaches out to touch your cheek, and you’re shocked at the touch. “You’ve been crying?” He asks and you bow your head.
"I thought you left..."
Mark wants to laugh at the irony. You asked him to leave, and yet here you are, upset at the idea of his departure. He swears if he weren't so in love with you, he'd rant about how much you mess with his head, pushing him to the edge only to pull him back again.
“Would never leave you, baby, you know that,” his voice is soft and comforting as the rough edge of his fingertips finds your jaw.
You can't control it; tears fall freely from your eyes. He's being incredibly considerate and gentle with you, even after you acted like a bitch. Honestly, you almost wish he'd just yell at you instead. But he doesn’t, his eyes widen and he immediately sits up straight letting the blanket fall to the floor as he pulls you up to sit on his lap.
He shushes you, his hands finding your waist where he rubs soothing soft circles into the fabric of your tank top, “Hey, why are you crying? I’m here…please don’t get upset, Y/N.”
His kindness only amplifies your guilt.
"I'm so sorry," you stifle in short sobs, your voice almost cracking. "I should've talked to you about the job offer before signing the contract... I-I didn't mean to act so selfishly. I just... I wasn't thinking."
Mark gives you a half-smile as he runs a hand through your hair. "It's okay, baby... You got caught up in your dream. I'm sorry for not realising that. I'm the one being selfish by always expecting you to put me first."
"No—"
He interrupts you to continue his apology. "You were right, you know. I always expect you to wait for me while I'm on tour. I never considered it from the other side, with me waiting for you... But I will. I'll wait because I know how much this job means to you."
Your face buries itself in the crook of his neck as you cry even harder, and he tuts gently while rubbing your back.
"Please don’t cry, Y/N," he murmurs softly. "I hate seeing you upset."
"Can’t help it," you muffle. "I hate that I upset you…"
Mark pulls you away from his neck, needing to look into your eyes as he speaks. "It's normal for couples to argue, baby. We just need to promise to communicate better, okay?"
His fingers stroke your cheeks again, and you lean into his touch. The warmth of his hand feels so comforting as if he was made to soothe your skin, the only person capable of bringing you relief. You bite your lip and nod against his palm, because you're more than willing to work on your communication if it means never feeling like this again.
"Now, give me a smile. You know, the pretty one I like," he says with a laugh. "If I'm not going to see you for the next six months, I don’t want one of our last moments together to be so... sad."
You smile at him and press your forehead against his with a whisper. "Me neither.”
You’re so close to each other that you’re practically sharing the same breath, if you had said that two hours ago you wouldn’t have believed yourself. But here you are, lips so close that your heavy breathing practically begs him to kiss you.
Mark feels it too, so when he does, it's like the softness of his lips is a bandage, mending the angry tension between the two of you. It patches up the last few hours that have transpired, and when he pulls away, it feels as if nothing even happened.
His hands grip your hips firmly, his fingers pressing down as he guides your body to grind against his clothed crotch. His lips find yours again, accompanied by a groan that escapes into your mouth. It's only when you feel him harden beneath you that you remember he was half-naked on the sofa – clearly after you locked him out of the bedroom.
Suddenly feeling suffocated by your own clothes, you pull away from him to strip off your tank top, tossing it over your head before discarding it somewhere in the living room. You yearn to meet his lips again – the only place you truly feel safe – but Mark wants to savour the way you look. Your clothed cunt eagerly grinding against his hard-on, hips chasing a high so eagerly that your bra strap has slid loosely down your arm.
You're a vision, Mark thinks, one that has him salivating and desperate to fuck you. He almost curses at himself for nearly ruining it all, for nearly walking out on the most beautiful person on the planet, the best sex he's ever had – and not only that but also the funniest, sweetest person he knows he'll ever meet.
He leans into your neck, his nose nuzzling into you as he whispers softly, "I'm sorry... so sorry, Y/N." His hand leaves your hips to cup your breast over your bra, massaging the mound with just enough pressure to elicit soft moans from your lips.
“‘s okay,” you whimper.
Your head falls back as his hand snakes around to unclasp it. He wastes no time brushing his intrusive fingers down your chest, wearing a filthy smirk because he knows just how sensitive you are there. The tip of his finger circles around your nipple until he’s right in the centre, feeling it harden under his touch. He pinches it, and you jolt forward on his cock, making his boxers tighten, and he groans.
He loves how responsive you were to him, watching you writhe over him as he touched you in torturous pleasure. Just the way you arch your back into his touch has pre-cum leaking out of his cock.
He leans in this time, sucking on your nipple and opening wide to get as much of the tender tissue of your breast in his mouth as possible. He holds your waist in place to keep you grinding on him to entice enough friction for him to feel good too.
And when he looks down to see where the two of you meet, he moans when he sees the wet patch leaking through your shorts onto his boxers.
“Fuck, so wet for me, baby. Just for me.”
You whimper, and his hand slips into the hem of your shorts. You’re glad you never wear panties to bed because his fingers find your clit immediately, relieving you of some of the neediness you’ve been feeling from grinding down on him. He rubs small circles as his mouth licks and sucks and nips at your bud.
“Mark…”
“Shhh baby,” he coos, “wanna make it up to you. Please let me make it up to you, let me make you feel good.”
You whimper with a nod of your head, humping into his hand, legs opening wider to give him easier access to the place you’re most sensitive. You let out mild pants, hips bucking more aggressively from the stimulation on both your nipple and clit.
And when Mark notices you getting close, he pulls off your tit to look up at your face. It’s his favourite part — watching your features contort when the bliss is at its highest. It makes his chest swell with pride knowing he’s the one making you cum, knowing his touch is enough to make you shake and moan. And if he wasn’t such a selfish lover, he’d think the sight is something everyone should see at least once.
As you come down from your orgasm, your eyes flutter open to meet him. Mark doesn’t know whether it’s from seeing your orgasm paired with the argument from earlier but he’s the hardest he’s ever been.
You notice it too, looking down and giggling. “Now it’s my turn to make it up to you.”
He lets out a soft huff, and a muscle in his jaw twitches with his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat before he nods. You free his cock from his boxers and shimmy yourself out of your shorts. You let out identical gasps when your bare cunt brushes against the tip of his cock.
Slowly, you sink onto him, fully feeling him inside of you. Your head falls forward, your forehead resting against his shoulder as you take in the size of him, the way he fills you just right — the way he always does.
The stretch as you take him in never gets old, eliciting the same whimpers and whines. You can feel his hands resting on your hips, then slipping to the bend of your waist, silently urging you to move as he presses you downwards.
You lift your hips, slow and steady as you let the sensations wash over you, drawing a low groan from deep in his chest. His grip on your body tightens as you sink back down, blunt nails digging into your skin. The sounds he makes only drive you further into finding a teasing rhythm because his voice is just so pretty. The sounds are soon muffled to your disappointment when his mouth presses into your skin, so his tongue can slide along the top of your breast — making the disappointment fade away real quick.
You let out a breathy cry, hands rising from where they’ve been resting, flattening against his chest, to wrap around his shoulders. The slow pace you’d adopted was becoming not enough. And you could tell from the way Mark is rutting his hips up to meet you, he shares the same sentiment.
Your mouths collide as you pick up the pace, using his shoulders to leverage yourself as you bounce up and down on his cock. When he breaks from the kiss, an unrestrained groan slips past his lips, low and rough, followed by another, and you have to bite back a whimper of your own.
Mark can’t help the noises, he just loves the way you swivel your hips in a way that makes him see stars. He loves watching you work yourself on him for pleasure – he loves when you ride him.
And right when you squeeze around him, he rewards you with a loud, obscene groan, a sound that makes you dizzy and limp. Everything about Mark is intoxicating and downright addicting, and you were in no hurry to kick that addiction. In fact, you craved more of it – needed more.
You grab his hands and guide them across your body. He squeezes them at your hips, smoothing across your thighs, your stomach. His hands were everywhere, eyes dark and desperate, wordlessly begging for you to give him what he needed, the same thing he’d been kind enough to already give you.
So you rock yourself forward, providing a new type of friction that makes you whine helplessly into his skin. Blunt nails mark into the plush of your thighs, a futile attempt at grounding himself. The upward thrust of his hips and the strained catch of his breath tells you that he's growing impatient. You know the pace was slow, but damn it, it felt so fucking good to feel him like this, every inch of him sliding into you, hitting all the spots that makes your brain stop working. It also felt like a sick little way to get revenge...
“Faster,” you hear him say. “Please baby, need it faster.”
You could feel his hips bucking up to meet you. Then his thumb finds your clit, working in circles and making you squeeze around him with a shrill, gasping cry. It was his attempt at bargaining with you, doing anything to make you speed up and shamelessly fuck yourself on his cock. Maybe if he pleases you, you’ll let him cum.
“Please fuck me properly baby, need it,” he rasps, “You want me to forgive you right?”
And then you remember what led you here in the first place. You’d upset him and now you’re teasing him – you suppose it’s only fair if you pick up the pace a little more, fuck him messily and desperately enough to have him dizzying towards his climax.
And once you do, his thrusts grow sloppier, and your thighs start aching. It feels too fucking good so all that you can do is cling to him and let him take the lead, strong hands guiding you as he sucks against your neck. And even though you’re supposed to be the one making him cum, you find yourself buried in the crook of his neck, gasping as your walls clench and nails dig into the skin of his strong back.
The slight stinging sensation is enough to work Mark over the edge, and you feel him twitch inside of you, sending shock waves up your spine as he fucks his cum inside of you with a final powerful thrust. You roll your hips to help him along, taking all you can get from him and he moans his appreciation as you do.
You remain tangled up in one another as you come down from your respective highs with foreheads pressed close. You wrestle to find his hand, lacing your fingers with his as he rubs his thumb over your knuckles. He kisses your nose, then your lips, with a tenderness that makes your heart feel like it’s being squeezed.
You don’t want to move just yet, so you release your hands and wrap them around his neck, nuzzling your nose against his before you speak.
"Mark?" You mumble, your voice tired and hazy. He hums in response.
"I’m sorry," you say softly.
You feel his smile against your mouth before he kisses your lips. "It’s okay, baby. I don’t even remember what we were fighting for."
#🏷frompaige#mark lee smut#nct dream smut#nct 127 smut#nct smut#mark lee x reader#nct dream x reader#nct 127 x reader#nct x reader#kpop smut#nct hard hours#nct oneshot
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heartbreak hotel
- gojo satoru x reader
so you're going on a three-day-two-night getaway trip with the one and only Gojo Satoru. the catch? you two have just broken up.
genre/warnings:
crack, jealousy, a dose of pettiness, hurt/comfort, fluff, zero angst i promise, suguru being a good buddy to his boyfriend best friend
notes:
inspired by a very real life story :))) anyways, it takes place in an au where suguru never left and all is well with our little meow meow catoru
the wonderful colored manga panel by the talented @redbluenight!
this was so much fun to write (that it turned into a whopping 3k+ word, so sorry) and i even made a playlist while on it ;)
series masterlist | oneshot masterlist
"He's intolerable!"
There were many things that led to the end of your relationship with Gojo Satoru, but if asked one word to sum it, then that was it.
When you started this thing with him, obviously you had never planned on how it would end―who started a relationship with that sort of mindset anyway? But if you could choose, you definitely wouldn't want it to end with dramatic shouting match that left you in tears.
Anyways, some things were just not meant to be. You refused to spend your whole life crying over that smug bastard, and so you moved on.
However, if there's one thing you've learned about plans, it is that whenever you already make a foolproof one, the world always has some funny way to mess it up.
Like this time.
"I... I remembered saving for months," you stammered dumbly, staring blankly at Shoko in front of you. The realization felt like a spiritual ascent. "I paid for that damn plane ticket and hotel with my whole saving. I can't just throw them away."
How could you possibly forget about this? This graduation trip that had been planned between your group of Satoru, Suguru, Shoko and yourself for months now. It was meant to be a getaway, a celebration of your most significant achievement after four years of barely getting by on exorcising curses and not dying in the process. This was supposed to be the ultimate milestone celebration in your life.
"Then don't," Shoko replied simply, twisting the cigarette in her mouth. "I'm still going though. No way I'm wasting that money."
"But!" you vehemently hissed. "He will be there. It means I have to see him for three days straight!"
Your cringeworthy breakup happened just barely a week ago. You had sworn in front of Gojo Satoru that you didn't want to see his face again, and yet in less than a week from now, you and him would literally share the same space―again?
"Can't I get a refund?"
"This late? Nah, it's like yay or nay at this point."
You slumped in frustration. Were the gods making you swallow your own words now? You were left with no other choice. Your frugality and tendency to get broke often compelled you to make the decision.
You were going on this trip whether he was there or not.
Meanwhile, on his end, the said smug bastard was brooding, groaning and pacing over the same predicament. Satoru had two options and had weighed them all, and somehow he still arrived at the more seemingly no-good decision.
"I'm going, duh!"
"You are?" Suguru asked with a hint of surprise in his voice. "Well, might be the first time I've seen someone agree to go on an overnight trip with his ex..."
"Hmph. I just don't like squandering money."
Suguru snorted, unimpressed. “Satoru, you have an entire fortune. The airfare is just an amount you'd donate to charity. Besides, you have wasted more than that.”
“Well, I want to enjoy my youth too! I’m going—who cares if she’ll be there!”
He was still miffed, recalling the day your argument spiraling out of control. How could you say those hurtful things to him?
“You never take things seriously—heck, I’m not even sure if you’re ever taking me seriously at all! Satoru, you’re always acting all high and mighty, but you’re just a selfish little twat!”
No way. The last time, he was left in the dust, not being able to say anything in his defense. So now, he would use this chance to be the one who had the last laugh. He was going, because he was 70% sure that you wouldn’t let your hard-earned money go to waste.
And he was right when two days later, he found you at the airport with a bitter scoff upon seeing him.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he moistened his lower lip in that obnoxious way. “Missed me?”
You walked past him, tone lacing with disdain. “Get lost, Gojo.”
He couldn’t help the prickling sensation in his chest when you dismissed him just like that. And the use of his last name—whereas you used to call him with all sort of available pet names? Now that was just low.
“Nah, you can’t get away from me that easily, Y/N,” Satoru sniggered. “You’re going to see me for the next three days, so suck it up and enjoy the sight,” and then the idiot proceeded to pump his fist in the air. “Wooo! Kyushu, here I go!”
Suguru and Shoko merely observed your icy interactions in silence, occasionally exchanging glances from time to time.
ITINERARY ::: DAY 1 — BEACH DAY @ SEASIDE HOTEL
After the three-hour flight, the four of you arrived at Karatsu, one of the main highlights in your trip—or back then, one you and Satoru handpicked yourselves.
You swore you still had your heart frozen for him, so you didn’t know what stirred it when you saw him giggling and doubling over in carefree delight, surrounded by those beach girls in skimpy bikinis.
“Hey, handsome~ is this even okay?” one of the girls in pink thong scooted closer to him, asking him with this cheap seductive grin. “Won’t your girlfriend be mad?”
At that moment, you could’ve sworn Satoru threw you a glance from the corner of his eye before replying with a triumphant bark. “What girlfriend? I’m wholly and happily single!”
The hell?
A rush of squeals grated your nerves as they swarmed your ex-boyfriend, prompting you to stalk away in irritation.
Absolutely not. You wouldn’t let this fine establishment be your heartbreak hotel any longer.
Gojo Satoru knew fully that he was petty. He let you see that on purpose just to rile you up, because frankly, he still felt like he didn’t deserve your messy breakup at all.
But when you were no longer in his eyesight, suddenly the urge to entertain these strangers dissipated, and what remained was this hollow sensation in his chest. You not paying him attention somehow made him crave it all the more.
He recalled how you pointed out that playing in the clear waters would be your ideal graduation gift. He specifically recommended this place himself and you had agreed. He remembered planning all of this, dragging Suguru and Shoko too just to make it merrier. To keep that cute smile on your face.
You were supposed to fool around with him in the clear waters of Matsubara Beach, splashing and pulling him underwater.
And yet in reality, he was toying with these questionable women and in your eyes, he was nothing but an irritable twat.
He didn’t see you again until evening, during dinner time. And the sight before him made him want to pull Suguru to the side and trap him inside his unlimited void.
"Really?" Your clear voice rang in his ears, every bit the same as when you would energetically question him with those doe eyes of yours, as you peered at Suguru. "We should go together tomorrow then!"
His eyes twitched.
What has his life come to? Reduced into seeing his ex-girlfriend possibly going on a date with his best friend?
He almost hoped that you'd stage up your pettiness level. It was worse because unlike him, you didn't make this up just to gauge his reaction.
That night, in their shared hotel room, he ignored Suguru completely, as well as silently waiting for him to divulge where he and you were going tomorrow.
"Hey Satoru—"
"Shut up, I'm trying to sleep."
It was obviously a wrong move, because Suguru apparently caught the hint and stayed quiet as a mouse throughout the night.
ITINERARY ::: DAY 2 — HOT SPRING @ KUMAMOTO
Or at least, last he remembered, that was the agenda.
Until he saw that only Shoko who was there, idling around at the hot spring area.
"Where are the others? Why is it only you here?"
She shrugged. "Geto said he's going to try the local specialties. Dunno where. As for me, I'm going to enjoy this onsen to the fullest."
Shoko noticed his irritated scowl, and a sly grin crept across her face.
"Heh, jealous much now, Gojo?"
Meanwhile, you and Suguru went to various dessert shops in town as per his invitation. Perhaps he took pity on you because you really seemed not to be having any fun at all after you stormed off from the beach area yesterday.
"Mmm! This is tasty!" you remarked, munching away the three-colored dango happily. You were so engrossed in eating today that you no longer had any room to think about anything else, which was a good thing.
Suguru smiled. "I'm glad you're enjoying yourself now." However, he appeared to have something on his mind, prompting you to hum and tilt your head in curiosity.
"No, it's just... so it's really over between you and Satoru?"
You let out a snort. "Yeah. Totally. He's an ass."
"He really is miserable, you know..."
"Nah, he doesn't look like it."
Your friend sighed. "Honestly, what was the argument even about? Both of you usually didn't take it this far."
You didn't want to go back to that topic, really. But Suguru was always the one with cooler head, and after his kindness today, maybe you could spare him a detail or two.
"It's a lot of little things that have piled up, you know," you mumbled. "It's probably just how he is, and I know. But I finally reached my boiling point. Why can't he try to see things from my perspective? Everything that's important to me doesn't seem to matter to him, and relationships need two people, not just one who resigns and the other who does anything he pleases."
And until now, you doubted if Satoru even realized what he did wrong. That was what hurt you the most. Like you were so small in his eyes, like he could toy with you and get away with it.
As you expected, Suguru would understand your point. "So that's how you feel... Yeah, I think I get it."
You thought he would end it at that, but then he went on. "I'm not defending him, Y/N. I think some time away from you would do him good, but later, maybe you can talk this to him? See if he will understand?"
"I already did, so many times." You narrowed your eyes at him. "Not to offend you, but it awfully seems like you're defending him, Suguru, despite you saying otherwise."
"I'm saying this because sometimes we can forget that Satoru is different," he explained sympathetically, and to be honest, you were surprised by his statement. "He is born exalted. He has a hard time comprehending things that come to us naturally. I just think it's a pity if... you can actually fix this, but just because bad communication, you lose the chance to."
Have you properly communicated this to him? Now that you thought about it, most of the times you would just get mad and point at the little things he missed, but never actually told him how it made you feel.
Your mind was still muddled with the fact Suguru had shed light on even after you got back to ryokan where you were staying for the night. The two of you were in for a surprise though as apparently there was a festival happening there.
Everything seemed to spark with glitters. The bamboo lanterns, lights, the gentle breeze. It created an undeniably romantic ambiance, to be honest.
You didn't know when Suguru slipped away, but suddenly, you found yourself alone amidst the visitors and dim lights.
And you found yourself to be immensely lonely.
Satoru spotted you in all your solitary glory amidst the sea of people in this godforsaken place.
No, actually it was a pretty great inn and attraction, but this trip had been horrible so far, and so he just felt everything was bad.
But at that moment, bitterness no longer clouded his mind, because you were so beautiful, bathed in the glow of the lights that Shoko had forcibly dragged him to see. If it were up to him, he'd spend the last night sleeping his heartbreak away, but now that he was here, he was thankful to see the dazzling sight of you that reminded him once again just what made him hopelessly in love with you.
And why he didn't get his sorry ass back into your good graces faster.
He retraced everything had brought both of you to this point. Your last fight was about what again? Him not telling you any news when he would be back from a mission?
No matter how he thought about it, it was a trivial matter. So what made you mad? He kept thinking, and then he imagined switching places with you. What if you didn't text him at all for three days straight? How would he feel? Oh, he would be despondent, of course.
Now he was starting to understand. He had done that so many times he could no longer keep count. Granted, you would be angry.
Satoru suddenly know how to rectify this. He can make things right. He would be damned if he didn't. He just had to pull you aside, and he was going to when he lost sight you in the crowd.
Okay, now he was frantic, as the longer he didn't see you, the more his opportunity to make amends slipped away. He moved through the crowd, pushing people in the process, earning ire and questionable glares and yet he cared none for it.
He nearly cursed at how his phone kept vibrating incessantly inside his pocket. Begrudgingly, he took it out and almost gasped.
You are calling him.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
It was so incredibly stupid. You just went to pee for a bit and then somehow got yourself locked in the toilet. It might have been fine, but then the lights unexpectedly went out, scaring the shit out of you.
How could such a upscale inn experience a sudden power outage and have doors that wouldn't budge? It was worse when no matter how many times you punched the switch or banged the door, it refused to turn on or open.
You were trapped. Honestly, it took everything you had not to cry.
And so you did the next best thing aside from forcing your way out. You called your friends. First, Shoko, and then Suguru, but both of them somehow didn't pick up the call even after you had called them three times each.
That left you with one possible person left. In your frenzied mind, it didn't even register in your mind what you were doing as the line connected and the last person you'd call on the other side answered.
"Satoru," you shakily breathed out, almost crying—or were you already? You didn't know as you focused on his sharp intake of breath, most likely surprised at how rattled you sound.
"Y/N? What? What is it?"
"I—" you wheezed, hating how helpless you sounded, yet still forced the words out. "I'm locked, it's dark—and it's just so—help! Help me please! I tried getting Shoko but she didn't—"
"Okay, sweetheart, calm down. Calm down, okay?" Satoru's voice brought you some comfort and it helped to reduce your tears, missing how he slipped up by calling you with his usual pet name for you. "Tell me. Where are you?"
"The women's restroom… I think it’s in the east wing."
"I'm coming, okay? Don't panic. I'll be there. Just stay on the line."
You heard his ragged breaths as he muttered several "coming through!" and "excuse me!" from where he was. It made your heart lurch. Despite the spiteful breakup, he rushed to your aid as soon as he realized you were in some kind of trouble.
Was this okay, to let your relationship end just like that?
"I'm outside." And then you heard his voice, much to your relief. "Y/N? Are you there?"
"Yes!" you shouted over the steel door.
You then heard how he rummaged to get the door open, and faintly hear him cursing it. "It won't open."
You wanted to sob, but then Satoru told you with an absolute tone, sounding so sure and demanding that compelled you to comply. "Get away from the door. As far as possible. Take cover."
Oh God, was he going to do what you thought he might do?
...he did. The next thing you knew, the door—and much more than that—was destroyed, and a rush of cursed energy was everywhere. After the blast subsided, you instinctively made a run for it, and you didn't know how, but you ended up stumbling into him.
Satoru caught you in his firm embrace.
"It's okay. You're okay," he cooed, whispering in your ear gently, urging your shivering body to calm down. "You're safe now, Y/N... I'm here. You're safe."
There was always something about your trembling form that made him want to tear down everything and anything in his path just to make you feel secure. And there was always this sense of rightness whenever you snuggled in his arms. Both desires clashed in a contrasting need and want and Satoru could do nothing but keep you close to him, torn between the two.
He kept his hand on your spine, and you clung on him, burying your face in his broad, sturdy chest.
Nevermind the fact that you technically broke up with him. Nevermind that ever since this botched trip started, it was the first occasion in which the two of you held a proper conversation without spewing bravado or sarcasm.
Afterwards, he led you away from the site, and he figured it would be best to go somewhere quieter rather than the festival, and so here you were, at the deserted lounge.
You had calmed down for the most part, and slowly you felt heat in your cheeks. In hindsight, you could've tried using cursed energy to blast the door too, why didn't you think of that earlier?
And yet, unaware of your internal musings, Satoru's thoughts were occupied with another matter entirely, and blame it on his insensitivity—he chose this moment to drop it without hesitation.
"I want you back," he declared, void of any hesitation. "I'll be better, I promise. Those things you hate—tell me, and I'll make sure not to repeat them again."
He wasn't the sharpest when it came to picking up on your feelings, but Satoru vowed that if it bothered you that much, then he would do his best to avoid doing it.
But you... you were still trying your best to grasp the situation. Amidst the plot twist you just experienced tonight, his blatant proclamation was the last thing you expected so you only managed a "What?"
He held your gaze, eerily serious. “I don’t want to break up. It’s hell. We can—I can still fix this.”
He looked sincere, unlike the usual empty promises he’d give you after you went off on him. And suddenly, you understood.
“…really?”
“Yeah. Just give me another chance. I’ll prove it to you,” Satoru said, visibly impatient now. “I won’t give you up. This literally is the fight of my life right now.”
You couldn’t help but chuckle, despite yourself. If there was anything that you had learned tonight, it was that apparently you and him were still salvageable.
“And how will you prove it?”
“Just so you wait and see, sweets. I’m gonna relight your feelings!”
It was beyond corny that he took a line from your favorite song. And both of you burst into a laughter at the sheer silliness of it.
You sighed, but this time of relief, in stark contrast to your earlier sighs that afternoon. You were giddy as a smile perched on your lips. “Fine. Let’s give this another shot.”
Satoru felt the tension in his shoulder melt with your answer. A genuine, wide smile emerged from the bottom of his heart and lit up his face.
“Now, this whole trip has been kind of terrible so far, don’t you think?” He made a brief pouty face for a moment before reverting to his mischievous grin His remarkable expressiveness—reminiscent of a child's, in your opinion—never ceased to fascinate you. “I have a pretty good idea where we should go next.”
You furrowed your brow in confusion. “What do you mean? Tomorrow’s our last day.”
“No freaking way!” he exclaimed, whipping out his phone to launch the travel agency app. “We are going to redo our graduation trip. This time just the two of us!”
There were many things that led to the end of your relationship with your dork of a boyfriend, but as you reflected on it, you realized that there were also many reasons for you to stay together, especially when he reached for your hand and held it firmly in his grasp.
You were unable to contain your excitement and bubbling with melodious giggles that he adored so much as he whisked you away from Kumamoto in favor of the last bullet train to Kyoto, where your long-awaited true vacation would begin.
Epilogue
“I told you this was a horrible idea. I fucking told you.”
"Can you blame me? Dude was about to throttle me in my sleep."
"Geto," Shoko scowled, her disbelief at his simple answer evident as she gestured wildly with both hands towards the wrecked lavatory, emphasizing her point. "Look—now that he had gone and done it, we're the ones footing the bill for the destruction of property!"
Gojo had blasted the washroom with a freaking Red. And the innkeeper promptly held both Shoko and Suguru responsible since their roommates were captured on CCTV and had vanished without a trace.
Suguru rubbed his neck sheepishly. "I genuinely thought it was a good idea. I didn't expect Satoru to go overboard though," then he threw her a stink eye. "And hey, you were complicit in this too!"
Shoko mumbled a string of curses as she pulled out her phone, snapping some pictures of the undeniable evidence of Gojo’s doing, and then made a call. Suguru frowned.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm reporting him to the headquarters!"
#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#gojo satoru fluff#gojo satoru imagines#gojo fluff#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo fluff#jjk x reader#jjk imagines#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen imagines#jjk fanfic#jjk fluff#hurt/comfort#jjk gojo#gojo angst#gojo x reader#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#jjk gojo satoru#jujutsu kaisen x you#gojo x you#jujutsu kaisen fluff#geto suguru#ieiri shoko#super shy at the beginning until airport is so uncanny idk why#and then seven when gojo fools around at the beach too#jjk fic#satoru x y/n
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Hydro Dragon
Neuvillette is a type of man (or dragon) that barely shows emotion. If he does, well damn, your heart can't take it.
Neuvillette has this smile that can melt your heart, a smile that makes you want to squish his cheeks together, a smile that you want to cherish forever.
When he's mad? He's scarier than the archons. But thankfully, he rarely gets mad (at you). Thus, not having you witnessing his wrath, since the two of you rarely fight.
Having Neuvillette as a lover is fun and all until he confessed to you that he's the Hydro Dragon, the same dragon you always sang to whenever it rains so that the dragon won't be sad.
Therefore, it is your mission to be sunny every day in Fontaine. But right now, it's stormy and raining as hell.
You and Neuvillette had an argument. It's the usual argument about him overworking himself. But instead of you guys talking about it and cuddling in bed (even giving him back massages), he shouted at you and said things he didn't actually mean.
You knocked on the door that leads to his office. When you hear a small "Enter." you opened the door and entered.
"Neuvillette? It's already late. Come and cuddle with me."
Neuvillette's body is stiff from all the paperwork that seems to be endless. The dragon sighed and shook his head.
"As much as I wanted to feel your body, I have important things to do."
You frowned at his words. You're not clingy per se, but seeing your dear dragon's slumped shoulders in a mountain of paperwork makes you want to cradle and massage him.
"But love, the sun has already set, the stars and moon has long made it way to the sky. Come and sleep with me, fi—"
You didn't get to finish your words when Neuvillette interrupted you in an unpleasant way.
"CAN YOU BE QUIET FOR ONCE?! CAN'T YOU SEE THAT I'M BUSY AND DON'T NEED YOUR PAMPERING?!"
Now, that's the outburst you didn't expect. Right, he's exhausted and tired. You get that. But, really? Pouring his frustration out to you is just petty.
You stared at Neuvillette and left his office, not slamming the door, closing it softly like he didn't just shouted at you. Neuvillette, who still hasn't registered what he did continued to do his work.
It's been two days, and it's been raining cats and dogs ever since. You see, you've been avoiding him since he lashed out on you. Sleeping in a different room, making breakfast, lunch, and dinner early, and not visiting him at work. All the things he has been so used to do, like sleeping on the same bed, eating together, you sitting on his lap while he works, and you two cuddling together.
Neuvillette can't deny the fact that he missed those things. Yes, it's only been two days, but those two days have been torture to him. Without your sweet kisses and hugs, his work has been ten times harder for him.
Neuvillette is now walking in the streets of Fontaine, soaked in his own emotions as the heavy raindrops landed on him.
In the past, the chanting of children Hydro Dragon, Hydro Dragon, don't cry, used to cheer him up, but now? It's all useless. He didn't feel the same warmth as it used to have. The only warmth he can feel is through you. The sun and fire can't compare to the warmth you give to the love he received from you. He's been so used to receiving it that it feels so weird not to have it.
Neuvillette continued his aimless walk, and raindrops continued to pour on him until an umbrella was placed above his head.
"I was worried. You weren't at your office or at home."
Neuvillette turned his body around, and he saw your figure, holding up an umbrella at his soaked form.
The rain suddenly got heavier.
You panicked as the rain poured with more vigour.
"H-Hey! W-Why are you even sa—"
For the second time this week, you had been cut off, but this time, in a way you love.
Neuvillette immediately hugged you as soon as he saw your figure, burying his face in your neck, hugging you tightly.
"I'm sorry, love. I'm so sorry, punish me all you want, but, please, don't leave me."
The rain got heavier, you sighed as you guessed that he's imagining you leaving him forever.
Holding the umbrella with one hand and other is hugging him back.
"Neuvillette, the time that you told me that you were the Hydro Dragon, the time that you put your trust in me. I already set my mind to never leave you ever since."
You look up at the rainy sky.
"Hydro Dragon, Hydro Dragon, don't cry."
You whispered softly at him. There it was, the warmth he had been craving for. The warmth he can only feel around you.
You hugged him tighter to comfort him. Slowly, the rain started to calm down until the sky I now clear and bright.
"Thank you, I'm really sorry."
Neuvillette kept apologizing and you shutted him up by kissing him.
"Just don't do it again, okay?"
You caressed his face as he slowly nodded. You smiled and pat his cheek softly.
"Now, come on. Let's take a bath, you're soaked, we don't want you to have a fever do we?"
Neuvillette chuckled and nodded. Holding your hand tightly as he followed you home like a lost puppy.
Having a dragon as your lover is certainly hard, but worth it.
#chubby reader#genshin x reader#x reader#neuvillette x reader#neuvillette x chubby reader#gn reader#female reader#genshin impact x chubby reader#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact
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𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐄 ・❥・ K. NANAMI
contents. advisor!nanami, princess!reader, forbidden relationship. 777wc.
kento is intoxicated off of the taste of the sweetest fruit—the forbidden fruit. he's always been a man of his word, a man loyal to his oaths. it's gotten him far in life to look straight ahead and not waver for petty temptations like many men around him have; it oftentimes gets them killed or they wish they were dead.
except you're no petty temptation. you're the object of is deepest desires and sweetest affections, as well of the princess of the kingdom he protects.
this morning, the princess stubbornly refused to come out of her chambers, disregarding the delay to an important meeting. your father, the king, was currently away and you refused to respond to anyone that was sent for you—not your maids, guards, or ladies in waiting. while everyone had grown increasingly anxious, kento sat back and silently fumed in the meeting room.
what an inconsiderate brat you were when you didn't get your way. he grit his teeth and counted to ten while he decided whether it was worth it to enable your tantrum or not. the great hall went completely silent at the sound of nanami's chair sliding back against the marble floor.
breathing out through his nose, he addressed the grand audience without raising his voice. "i'll be back shortly. i apologize for the inconvenience on behalf of the princess."
it wasn't until kento showed up at your door, frustrated beyond belief at your childish display that your grand door finally swung open. all it took was the sound of his deep voice calling out your name.
and just like that, most of the ire inside of him dissipated when his honey brown eyes met your lovely form. you're in your sleeping gown—a thin and delicate little thing, made of mulberry silk that was the color of sea pearls. men have written poems, ballads, and compositions about you.
your eyes light up at the sight of him as you pull him by the lapels of his coat into your bedroom.
kento sinks his teeth a little, secretly relishing in the moan it brings out of you. “and is that why you’ve thrown this tantrum?”
“‘s not a tantrum,” you grumble breathlessly, melting beneath his touch. you were weak to the roughness of his large calloused hands; the hands of a man who has fought all his life. “even if it was, who cares? you serve me, kento.”
technically, he didn’t. kento's purpose was to keep your father levelheaded on all matters, to be the voice of reason who’s taken all possibilities into consideration. but then again, he’s still a citizen of this kingdom so you're somewhat right.
"i don't serve you," he grits, running his hands down your sides to lift you onto your vanity. he greedily pushes the dainty hem of your gown higher up your thighs.
and you sigh at this, wrapping your legs around his middle, locking your ankles behind his back. "mmm, yeah yeah. whatever you say."
“are you satisfied?” he grits out, desperate to remain the voice of reason. but he wants nothing more than to ravish you; to make you moan and beg for him to ruin you. his mind is spinning. “everyone is still waiting. the king—your father—will hear of this from the others when he returns.”
“so? they can wait.” you scoff, petulant as ever. it's true, too. everyone will wait for you because your input on international relations is vital. “I’ve missed you terribly. I missed you so much that I even read that boring book you left here.”
you cup his face then, bringing his lips to yours in soft pecks that slowly deepened into a sensual kiss. kento breathes out through his nose, groaning into your mouth as he squeezes harshly at your hips. he kisses you feverishly, succumbing to your seduction once again—reduced to a mere man at the mercy of a beautiful girl.
there’s countless women who are better suited for him. women who aren’t spoiled brats. women who wouldn’t throw a fit and delay important meetings just because she missed him—just because she wants to get fucked. women who don’t purposely sabotage each and every attempt your father has made to match kento with someone.
you tilt your head back as kento leaves open mouthed kisses along your neck once more. he wants to mark you so badly—to claim you as his once and for all. the sounds of your ardor echo in your large bedchambers, these walls always privy to this forbidden union.
kento loses himself in you once more, slipping his fingers beneath the lace of your underwear, the meeting now gone from his mind.
#starring: nanami kento#this has been in the drafts for a year!#nanami x reader#nanami smut#nanami x you#nanami x y/n#nanami kento x reader#jjk x reader
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SILENT TREATMENT
— harry being stubborn & regretting it
——
"Where's Harry?"
You swear he was in the room a mere second ago. As a matter of fact, you swear he was just standing next to you playing an intense game of ping-pong while wearing only his boxers and socks.
Harry has been childishly ignoring you for the past hour by hitting the hollow plastic ball back and forth with someone from the backstage crew in complete silence. You kept stealing glances at him, hoping his expressive eyes would reveal what was irking him, but he never acknowledged you. Based on pure assumption, he's mad at you. You think he's being a bit dramatic.
"Not sure," answers the crew member with a shrug. "He left without saying anything."
"Great," you reply, sighing in frustration. I'll go looking for him.
You snatch your sweatshirt from the chair in the corner and head out on a mission. Harry can't be too far, but the unfamiliar venue with mazes of hallways and covert doors could make your search quite difficult. Thankfully, plenty of workers with recognizable shirts and lanyards roam around backstage, either pushing equipment carts or having muffled conversations with people through their walkie-talkies.
You politely raise your hand to garner the attention of an older woman casually leaning against the wall. "Excuse me, have you seen Harry Styles anywhere?"
Her hazel eyes narrow suspiciously. "Are you a fan? How did you get back here?"
"No, no," you say quickly with a nervous laugh, taking your specialized lanyard out from the pocket of your jeans and showing it to her. "I'm his girlfriend, and I— well, I sort of lost him."
She walks closer and squints at the laminated card with your name and picture printed. "You lost him?"
Heat prickles up your neck and travels to your cheeks. "Um, he's quiet. Sneaks right past me all the time."
The woman smiles faintly. "I'm sure he does." What the hell is that supposed to mean? "I think I saw him going to the private bathrooms in the back," she adds, hiking her thumb behind her shoulder. "Hey, tell him to stop walking around in his boxers, will ya?"
"Sure thing," you reply distractedly with a nod, not fully comprehending what she said.
After wandering down the brightly lit hallway, you eventually reach the back area of his dressing room. The smooth walls turn into rough, white-painted bricks as the opening of the communal bathroom comes into view. There's still an hour until showtime, and you wonder what Harry could be doing there. Usually, he waits until right before he has to go on stage to get ready.
You find him standing in front of the sink, a plush robe wrapped around his sulking figure as he brushes his teeth with his lucky pink toothbrush. One look at his face tells you he's not in a good mood.
Fights with Harry tend to be over petty things that are easily forgotten the next day. Joining him on tour has caused some lingering stress since what he does, as fun as it appears to be, is still strenuous when unpredictable mishaps can occur at any moment. You can't really remember what you said today that is making him blatantly ignore you. Maybe it has something to do with jet lag, or perhaps he's just being stubborn. Either is highly possible.
"Hi," you mutter, looming next to him.
Harry continues brushing his teeth while avoiding eye contact with you. The air smells of spearmint and his potent cologne, but it doesn't bring you the comfort it usually would due to the palpable tension currently clouding the air.
"You're mad at me," you say plainly, drumming your fingers along your thigh.
He leans over the sink and spits out the residual toothpaste, then inhales heavily, almost impatiently, as he picks up his mouthwash. He grants no response and twists open the cap, taking a short swig and swishing it around in his mouth. You rest your hip against the counter and impatiently cross your arms. It doesn't feel nice when he hasn't even so much as spoken a single word to you when you've been in close quarters for the past hour.
Since when has the silent treatment ever solved anything?
"If you're not going to speak to me, I think I'll just go hang out in the tour bus for the night," you say, swallowing down the lump in your throat.
Harry shrugs one shoulder without a care in the world, and you take it as your self-proclaimed cue to leave. You honestly don't have the patience or energy to start a one-sided argument right now, so with a disappointed hum, you begin walking away.
Your feet halt just before you turn the corner. "Have a good show," you mumble with burning sarcasm.
Once you're out of his sight, you curl your fists by your head and grit your teeth, almost letting out a crazed laugh at his ridiculousness. You want to scream. He sometimes acts like such a kid, too arrogant to admit when he's sorry and too selfish to try and mend the issue before it builds into something bigger. It's terrifying to think it could become unfixable.
After five minutes of asking around, you're led to the back parking lot, where the tour buses are lined up. The main one you ride in with Harry is guarded by two security guards. You lift your lanyard without uttering a word, and they immediately open the door.
You stomp up the stairs and throw your belongings onto the couch, trying to not let the simmering anger in your blood turn into an uncontrollable boil. No one else is around, so you shut all the interior lights off and climb into the tiny bunk bed you share with your stupidly stubborn boyfriend. The sheets are still crumpled, and his dirty socks lie by the edge. Everything smells like him, and for once, you wish it didn't.
Exhaustion eventually kicks in, and you drift off to the distant sound of the crowd going wild inside the arena.
——
"Psst."
You jolt awake from the voice right next to your ear. Your hazy brain catches up to consciousness as you grumble a noise of protest. There's no need to open your eyes when you know whose body is causing the dip in the uncomfortable mattress.
A shake is then given to your elbow. You jerk it back and hope he takes the hint.
"Ow, bloody hell!" Harry whispers harshly.
"Go away."
That was a bad idea. Instant regret. Harry responds by rolling on top of you, borderline knocking the air out of your lungs. You tiredly groan and push him off, his body falling next to you in the cramped space of the bunk.
"Seriously, go away," you repeat, putting a pillow between you and him. "Stop sucking up to me and acting like everything's fine."
Harry takes the pillow and flings it somewhere far. "Yeah, well, I don't appreciate you just leaving and not texting me your whereabouts. That scares me."
You roll your eyes. "I told you where I'd be, yet you decided to give me the silent treatment."
He ironically goes silent at the truth.
"And," you continue, kicking his leg under the covers, "I don't appreciate it when you don't speak to me. It hurts."
"I'm sorry," he murmurs, remorse leaking into his apology. I was being an idiot. I can't even remember what I was upset about."
You slowly turn over to face him. "Me neither."
He's freshly showered, the hood from his sweatshirt thrown over his damp hair. His face is slightly rosy from the recent steam, and his lips look remarkably soft in the minimal lighting.
"I hated not seeing you in the crowd," he says quietly, glancing at your mouth. "It's my fault, but still... it wasn't the same without you."
You lean forward and kiss his forehead, making a content hum vibrate in his throat. His legs intertwine with yours as he rubs under his eyes with the sleeve of his hoodie.
"Please never stop talking to me," you whisper. "Even when you're annoying, I still like to listen to your voice."
Harry smiles fondly and places his palm against yours, admiring the size difference. "You're my favorite person to talk to. Do you know that?"
You feign a gag at his sappy statement, and he laughs before nuzzling his face into your neck and innocently tickling your sides. He eventually stops and wraps his arms around you, planting tender kisses on your exposed skin.
His addictive scent consumes your senses, and you let yourself drown in it until sleep drapes over the both of you like a favorite childhood blanket.
——
#harry styles blurb#harry styles imagine#harry styles x reader#harry styles fluff#harry styles fanfic#harry styles#adore-laur#silent treatment
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I have a request! How about a scenario where we have a very ugly and strong argument with Bi-han, but later he comes back to apologize and let us take it out on him for treating us so badly?
(I just want some agressive sex/rage sex/fury sex with this man)
𝐁𝐈-𝐇𝐀𝐍 | 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐑𝐘/𝐀𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐘 𝐒𝐄𝐗
cw: fem reader, married couple, piv sex, bi-han is a little rough, reader cant stand bi-han's attitude tbh, angry sex, make up/apology sex, fighting for dominance, cock drunk reader, mentions of bi-han dirty talking in cantonese creampie, bi han and reader are both sassy/petty little shits that still love each other, and i think that's it! minors dni please!
wc: 2.6k
a/n: wow idk why this took me so long, but i kinda like this one ;) ... ty for this idea, nonnie <3 i also want to mention that the mention of bi-han speaking/dirty talking in cantonese was heavily inspired by a headcanon i seen from @bihansthot ! anyways, enjoy!!
silent treatment was without a doubt something that bi-han absolutely loathed. he truly believed it’d be better off if you were to scream your lungs out at him instead. but getting a cold shoulder and silent treatment from you was something his ego couldn’t handle. had anybody else dared to ignore his presence the way you had these past forty-eight hours, he’d probably have them executed after the first five minutes of this frivolous behaviour. but you, his wife, was a different case.
bi-han couldn’t discipline or punish you the way he would towards his students and lower ranked lin kuei ninjas. you were his wife– his equal –and this silent game of ‘who’s willing to crack first?’ was driving him mad, although he’d never admit that to anybody… yet.
the fabric of the towel was soft against your hands while you worked on drying out your hair. having just exited the shower, you were in nothing but a silk blue robe that complemented your husband's traditional colour scheme. just the thought of him made you scoff out loud and shake your head, who the hell did he think he was?, you thought to yourself. about two days ago, bi-han appeared to be grumpy when he arrived back at your shared compound after finishing his duties for the day.
being the supportive wife you were, you tried to talk to your husband, ask him if he needed anything from you, or even tried to see if he would be vocal about what was bothering him. and much to your dismay, he lashed out on you as if you were some peasant who worked under him during the day– which you sure as hell weren't.
“leave me be. the last thing i need tonight is another insignificant fool blabbering in my ear constantly.”
his voice was sharp when he walked past you and entered your shared bedroom. bi-han having miserable mood swings wasn’t something new, but he almost never verbally took out his stress on you– possibly because he knew better. truth be told, you were too tired for his attitude today and had no intentions of letting him ruin your peaceful afternoon. all you did was let out a ‘hmph’ that you purposely made loud enough for him to hear and continued in silence with the fruit you were cutting up for yourself in the kitchen.
ever since that transpired, you haven’t said a word to bi-han and completely ignored his presence, which made his blood run colder than it already was. he was a hard person to read when he kept his usual stoic expression, but deep down you knew he was aware of how frustrated you were with him. which is exactly what you wanted.
letting out a tired sigh, you look at yourself in the mirror and take time to fix up your hair before exiting the bathroom and arriving at your bed. as you sat in silence for a moment, you felt the temperature noticeably drop… he’s here. rolling your eyes, you decide to comfortably tuck yourself in on your side of the shared bed and warm yourself up from the chilly air.
however , your eyes never shut– not even when the door creaks open slowly and reveals your husband’s tall form. his demeanour didn’t seem to be as aggressive compared to how it was two days ago, which you were grateful for. but you still avoided eye contact with him and stared at the wall in silence, not wanting to be bothered. you knew your worth and refused to feed into your husband's ego, because you knew that it was already big enough… your thoughts came to a halt when you heard bi-han speak up. “your juvenile behaviour is astounding,” he scoffs, and you can damn near feel his eyes piercing into you.
in response, you calmly grab your pillow and walk right past him, making your way to the living room. bi-han watches you settle yourself down on the couch as you lay down and begin to curl yourself up comfortably. all he does is release a sigh from his lips, contemplating on what his next course of action should be. bluntly calling you childish probably wasn’t the best thing to say after two days of neither of you talking to each other, but he couldn’t stop himself from speaking his mind.
deep down he knew he’d have to put his pride and ego aside to resolve this. he was the eldest of three sons, a powerful and deadly assassin, the grandmaster of the lin kuei– and yet here he was, allowing silent treatment from his wife to get under his skin. letting out a stubborn groan, bi-han made his way towards you and knelt down on the mat so that he was at face level with you on the couch.
he calls out your name in the softest way he could, hoping you would turn to him. but he clearly failed to get your attention as you didn’t say anything back. his small whim of patience had already run out, “do you insist on telling me what your problem is?” this time his tone sounded more cold and gruff, as usual. rolling your eyes once again for the night, you turn to bi-han and finally speak to him, “last i recall, i was just a mere insignificant fool blabbering in your ear when i tried to talk,” he could've sworn your tone was sassy, sarcastic and authoritative all at once– as if you were just waiting to bite at him.
if he was being honest, it’s one of the many things he found so attractive about you. the way you didn’t take shit from anybody– not even himself –made bi-han fall hard for you… he needed a strong willed woman by his side. but moments like this proved to be a form of self realisation. the only people who would ever dare to talk back to him were just you and his brothers. he was so used to everyone following his lead and command, it was almost… refreshing, to have somebody stand their ground.
the glare and frown you had on your face was something you were far too beautiful for. bi-han closed his eyes and inhaled as calmly as possible, trying to collect his words and choose them wisely. “what i said to you that day was regrettable–” you cut him off before he could continue, “and?,” you were already unimpressed with his words, “it’s not like there’s anything you can say to take it back.” your husband must’ve known that just words alone wasn’t going to solve this.
“i understand that, but,” his cold hand gently grasps your arm, causing goosebumps to raise all over your body. “perhaps there’s something i can do to make amends for what i’ve done?”
and now you’re here, back on your shared bed, taking out your own frustration above bi-han on his cock. you had your hands planted on bi-han’s chest as you bounced up and down his shaft, “fuck..!” your voice lost that sting it previously had, making bi-han grow a prideful grin on his face. “still trying to put me in my place?” your husband’s taunting only made you feel more agitated than you already were. with an attempt to keep your moan in, you bite down on your lower lip and snake your hands up to bi-han’s neck, keeping a slight grip. “s-shut– ngh!– up…” the movement of your hips refused to come to a halt, forcing bi-han to lay back and stay below you.
it felt like a battle for dominance between the two of you. two hard headed (and sometimes ignorant) lovers trying to prove to each other how much power they had over one another. bi-han was confident that you knew how easily he could overpower you in terms of strength, but decided to let you have your little wish of ever taking control over him. looking down at him, his chest was covered in sweat and his ears and cheeks were flushed in a light shade of pink. though you’d have to admit that your hands around his neck were a great touch. it felt as if there was a surge of power and control coursing through you.
apart from his occasional groans, the cryomancer stayed silent as he watched your voluptuous body on top of his. noticing your lover’s face contort in pleasure, you can’t help but spew out more words, “yeah… did you r-really, ah!, think that i would tolerate that b-behaviour from y– f-fuck!,” before you could finish blurting out what you wanted to, bi-han had gripped your hips hard enough to stop your movements as he fucked up into you, making you cry out at the sudden surprise of pleasure he was bringing you.
the grandmaster only chuckled. he found your sounds pitiful, “you talk too much.” from the way his cock was jackhammering into you, it proved too difficult to spit out any sort of petty comment towards him. the speed of his thrusts made your body feel limp and your husband took note of this from the moment you slumped down, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. his voice was dangerously close to your ear from this angle, “mmm…such an incompetent attempt of being in control,” your pride disallowed you from letting out any moans, “fuck.. y-you..!” hearing how slurred your words were only made bi-han scoff.
your attempts at keeping composure were becoming futile and bi-han knew how close you were to cumming around his length with the way your pussy tightened and gripped him like a vice. “i can feel how close you are, love,” bi-han stops his thrusts but keeps himself fully buried inside of you. before you could get the chance to protest or whine, the cryomancer speaks up. “i have no intention of letting you cum until you accept my apology.” the expression he held was smug while he secured your waist with that same grip he had before, making you unable to move your hips.
you’d been so focused on taking out your frustration on him that you forgot the whole point of this was him trying to make amends for how he lashed out on you. truthfully, you would’ve purposely told your husband that he’d have to take you out on a fancy date in order for you to accept his apology… but you already felt so fucked out from how his cold cock was abusing your insides just moments ago. you were so close, and you needed that coil in your stomach to snap. “fuck, i forgive you– okay? just let me cum already, pleaseee–!” bi-han groans in response and glides a cold finger to press on your clit, making you shiver in pleasure at how swollen and sensitive your bud feels. without any more wasted time, the grandmaster delivers his quick thrusts from underneath you once again and rubs fast circles on your clit.
the feeling of everything was becoming overwhelming, “ahh– ‘s good! it f-feels so g– ngh!” your mind was clouded with lust and each sentence you tried to complete ended up failing to connect coherently. there were words that left bi-han’s mouth, but you could barely decipher what he was saying with the way your heart beat drummed in your ears–
it was in that moment, your cries echoed in the room as you pulsed around his cock, gushing around his member. bi-han reduced the speed of his thrusts while trying to help you ride out your high. once you finally come back down from your bliss, you feel your husband's cold, rough hands manhandle you and flip the position that you two were in. you were now layed on your back as bi-han towered over you, parting your legs and easing between them.
being able to admire your body with the positions swapped felt so refreshing to bi-han. watching the way your breasts heaved up and down with short breaths… the way your skin was coated with sweat, resulting in your hair being out of place from its presentable manner you previously had it in. and being able to see your juices not only coating his cock– but also the inside of your thighs. seeing your slick trickle down to the mattress… gods, you were so beautiful like this.
bi-han couldn’t waste any more precious time just observing when you were unintentionally inviting him to ravish you even more than he already has. the cryomancer grabs your leg and hooks it over his shoulder as he positions himself enough to easily slide his cock into your pussy. being filled up again made your walls flutter– you wanted to be here forever, just taking his cock while it stuffed you full. to no surprise, bi-han’s thrusts were rough as he began to chase his own high.
your moans never came to an end and were only received as noises to push bi-han further. the cryomancer decides to place a grip on both of your legs this time and leans closer, pinning your knees right by your ears and increasing the force of his thrusts. your folded position had you seeing stars as bi-han’s cock was angled even deeper than before. the way his tip kissed your sweet spot again and again– you could no longer stop your tongue from lolling out, followed by drool rolling down from your mouth.
bi-han snickers, “all of that attitude earlier…” he moves closer to your face and his nose touches yours, “just to be reduced to a cock hungry vixen beneath me– shit!” your husband spits out, feeling how your walls clenched around him from his harsh words. even if you were able to coherently speak, you would never admit how much of a mess you become when bi-han works his cock inside of you…
the grandmaster felt himself becoming dangerously close to his climax, and you felt it with the way his rock hard cock twitched inside of you. his volume started to increase and his grunts became shallow moans that he desperately tried to hold back. noticing this, you use the last bit of your energy to purposely squeeze hard around him, clamping your pussy around his cock as if you were trying to keep it all for yourself. the unexpected action made bi-han lace out a loud string of swears and words in his mother tongue. although you didn’t quite understand what he was saying, you were aware that they were phrases he only used in scenarios like this, making you assume that only vulgar words were leaving his mouth.
the roles were reversed now– this time he was the one hiding his face in the crook of your neck with your lips right by his ear. his hips started to stutter and lose the rhythm it previously had. letting out a lustful hum, you speak into his ear, “inside… haah– c-come on..! fuckin’ fill me up, please!” hearing your voice spew out these words was enough to do it– he filled you to the brim with his seed.
you made sure to milk him dry, taking every drop that he had to offer you. both of you laid there, completely fucked out and exhausted– his body was still slouched over yours while he took time to catch his breath. very slowly, he pulled his cock out of you and planted a peck on your lips, “in no other realm would i have imagined reciting vows with a woman that carried such a flame and sharp tongue,” he leans down and places yet another kiss to your swollen lips,
“yet i could never imagine falling in love with anybody else…”
#bi han#bi han x reader#bi han smut#mortal kombat x reader#mortal kombat smut#mortal kombat#sub zero x reader#sub zero
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✩•̩̩͙*˚ UNREQUITED ROUTE
this is one of the possible endings to a story! lost yourself? begin here!
You've chosen to proceed with our favorite long haired beauty! You love to hurt yourself, don't you? Enjoy <3 – wc : 4.4k
It’s Suguru.
You don’t acknowledge his presence, and instead just try to quicken your pace so you can get home faster. It’s a good thing you live so close to his house, because it’s freezing and you’re only wearing a shirt.
You’re fumbling with the keys of your apartment, your hands trembling when you hear him clearing his throat a few steps down. You can clearly imagine the expression that would be etched on his face if you were to turn around and take a look at him.
Annoyance, impatience, confusion even. And he would be right to feel that way.
The click of the lock echoes in the dead of night, and you immediately try to shut the door to block out everything.
But Suguru’s foot shoots out, wedging between the door and the frame and preventing it from closing completely.
“Are you going to hear me out, now? Or do I need to blow down your door?” He asks with a slight frown.
“What more is there to say? It looked pretty clear to me.”
“So running out was the best option to you? At least hear him out.”
“Why are you always so optimistic? He doesn’t like me, Sugu’, end of story! Can you leave me now so I can go cry in my bed, or is it too much to ask?” You exclaim, and the look in his eyes tells you he won’t be letting this go anytime soon.
“Alright, fine, I give up. Do whatever you want.” You let out a frustrated groan, releasing the door so he can get inside. He closes the door behind him and follows you to your room, but you act as if he isn’t there.
“I think you should get back.”
You press your lips in a thin line, ignoring him even as he keeps following you like your shadow.
Irritated, you finally turn back to face him, a mix of frustration and anguish on your face. “You know what I think? That he would be there if he cared like you said, but is he?” You ask, voice laced with the weight of disappointment and hurt. “Why are you here when he’s not, Suguru?”
You feel like you know the answer before you’ve even asked the question. And he knows you do too. Yet you refuse to open your eyes and see what’s been in front of you the whole time.
“Because I care about you!” He blurts out. “I care, alright? Even if you have a hard time believing it.” His words hang in the air, and you can’t ignore the way your heart skips a bit at his admission.
“I know you do.” You reply softly, your voice barely above a whisper. Because you do know. When Suguru cares, he cares deeply. You always felt like he constantly tried to protect you from whatever came your way, and the realization makes your chest tighten.
“Now that’s the thing, I don’t really think you do.” He lets out a humorless laugh. “God, sometimes I just…” He trails off, the hesitance shining in his eyes reflecting the vulnerability of what he’s trying to tell you.
“I just wish you looked at me the same way you look at him.” He breathes out.
And you don’t know if it’s the way he looks at you that prompts this reaction out of you, or something else entirely, but you can suddenly feel the need to get closer, to feel the heat radiating off his skin and smell the scent of his perfume.
You’re torn, you don’t know what to say to him nor do you really know what he’s trying to tell you. – Yet you do.
And as his stray locks brush against your shoulder, making your skin tickle, a strange sense of intimacy unfurls between you.
You both know it’s wrong. So why are you leaning forward, wondering what his lips would taste like against yours?
Yet Suguru moves away before it can happen, and he takes a few steps back. You can’t help but feel disappointed.
“We can’t do this.” He says, just like you knew he would. He’s right, and you know that. Yet you want payback, you want to hurt Satoru as much as he’s hurt you all this time. It’s stupid, and petty. You don’t care.
You scoff. “Oh, we can’t now?”
“I can’t do this to Satoru.” To you.
Your laugh is bitter, “Ah, Satoru. Well, considering what just happened, I think he’ll be fine.”
He whispers your name, pleading, almost begging, and your heart clenches at the sound. “You’re upset, it wouldn’t be right. Wouldn’t feel right.” He adds, but he’s lying through his teeth, — Anything would always feel right if it was with you.
You turn your head toward Suguru, locking eyes with him, “You’re really gonna make me say it?”
You lick your lips, and Suguru’s eyes can’t help but flicker up and down at the motion, before swiftly looking away, almost in shame. “Make you say what?”
“That I want you, Suguru.” You plead, “I need you.” His gaze flicks back to yours, and you can feel his hesitance. It’s thick like butter, but so is the tension between you. So you step forward, slowly as to not startle him, because you’re scared he’ll disappear if you aren’t careful enough. You add, your voice a little raw, “Please.”
It’s the last straw.
Something breaks inside of him.
Because he has you there before him, telling him you crave him, practically begging for him to do something about it. And Suguru tries, he desperately does. He tries so hard to hold back, because you’re in love with his best friend, and he’s practically sure Satoru might also have a thing for you — although he’s been pretty shitty at showing it.
But you’re there. You’re real, and you’re so, so close. You’re looking up at him with lidded eyes, and you’re so beautiful he feels himself blush.
He knows that if he starts this, and does as much as lift a finger, he won’t be able to stop. And you know that, because eyes don’t lie. You see the little restraint he had falter and crumble, like a card castle in the wind.
The way he looks at you is unhinged, almost primal, and it’s making you dizzy. It’s like he’s peering inside of you, probing at every corner of your soul and seeing the deepest parts of you, waiting for the right moment to pounce.
He’s the Apex predator, and you’re prey.
It’s dangerous. You can’t get enough of it.
“Yeah?” He says, and the way his voice drops down an octave makes your heart quake. “You want me?”
Yeah. Your lips part to answer his plea, but your breath catches in your throat when you see him walk up the rest of the distance to you, his deft fingers rising to his ponytail to yank out his hair tie, freeing his long hair. It cascades down his back, and you feel it tickle the side of your neck when his mouth finally meets yours. He swallows the words you want to say, sucks them out of you with the swipe of his tongue and the bite of his teeth. You gasp in surprise, your fingers trembling as they instantly find him, and you harshly tug on his shirt to pull him closer.
And oh, how his lips are sweet. They taste like honey and sugar, so exquisite you feel yourself drown in the depths of him. His distinctive scent of rose and sandalwood invades your senses and you drink him in like a parched traveler.
If someone had told you this would happen, that you would be here, kissing Suguru Geto of all people, you would have just laughed in their faces. He’s always been your best friend, one unlike Satoru was to you. While Suguru was more like earth — calm and grounding, warmhearted and dependable, Satoru was like ice — impulsive and passionate, carefree and unpredictable. While Satoru was like an adventure, Suguru felt more like home.
You’ve always seen him as nothing more than one of your best friends, your brother from another mother, but now?
Now he’s undoubtedly there, holding you, kissing your lips with so much hunger you feel like you might fall apart under him.
“Make me forget, please.” That’s all you can say when you finally part, out of breath, your chest heaving heavily.
It’s all in the eyes. It’s always been this way with Suguru, and you’ve learned to read him like an open book with time. It’s there, hiding behind his chocolate hues, this bundle of emotions he’s been suppressing for so long that is now threatening to crack, break, and spill out all over the place without restraint.
And it is raw.
He wants to eat you alive. And if this is the way he simply looks at you, you can’t help wondering what he’s even thinking about you.
His gaze is like a drug. It is so needy, so desperate you feel goosebumps rise on your skin. It is undeniably making you shy despite your eagerness, but it feels so good.
You feel seen.
Even though he might seem in control to the foreign eye, that’s not quite the case. Suguru’s eager and greedy, he’s kissing you like a starving man, but his body cannot lie. Not to you.
Never to you.
It shows in the way he complies and obeys your every whim like it’s easier to do so than it is breathing. In the way he shivers when you do so much as rap your nails against his back, and kiss your way down to his neck.
You are in charge, and he lets you be. He likes it that way.
He lets himself fall on the mattress, pulling you down with him and gripping your thighs as you settle down on his lap. His breath hitches in his throat and he has to hold you in place before your squirming causes an unwanted accident.
The sounds he makes prompt a smile out of you, and you take a moment to detail him. He’s sprawled on the bed, his long black hair spread on the sheets and framing his face so beautifully.
His plump lips are slightly parted, and his naked chest slowly rises and falls to the rhythm of his breathing. And under the moonlight, you swear he looks like an angel.
But you don’t need an angel now. You need your best friend to rise, grab your neck and ̶m̶a̶k̶e̶ ̶l̶o̶ – fuck you senseless. So you go for it. You lean down and reach out to grip his collar, and he has to prop himself up on one elbow to keep up with you.
“Will you, Suguru?” You bat your eyelashes at him, and he swoons, “Make me forget?”
His face is a few inches away from yours, his hair disheveled as he looks up at you through his eyelashes — he is so close they tickle you when he blinks.
“Anything.” He whispers tenderly, as if breaking character for a moment, “Anything for you.”
And he means it. Although you can’t possibly know that, Suguru has always been yours, and he’ll always be as long as you’ll have him. But you’ve always been Satoru’s.
He’s long accepted that fact.
Your hand moves to rest against his cheek, while the other desperately fists the fabric of his shirt to bring him even closer. He’s still looking up at you, your position giving you the advantage, but he doesn’t seem to mind.
“Kiss me again — like you mean it.” He implores and you comply. You do not have it in you to deny him when he looks so desperate for you. He immediately angles his head so you can kiss him better, and the scrape of your teeth against his bottom lip prompts a groan out of him.
The way you make him feel drives him insane, and he’s utterly ashamed of the amount of power you hold over him without even being aware of it. Suguru feels like a virgin all over again, with the way the simple brush of your fingers makes his heart jump, and his body shiver. He’s daydreamed about this moment for so long to the point it almost feels natural to be with you like this, and he’s afraid it might be his mind playing tricks on him. It’s selfish, but it feels so good. It’s like scratching an itch that’s been bothering him for years. He feels alive. He’s never experienced anything like it, and it scares him.
But you know nothing of his inner turmoil, and while he’s focused on the way his heart soars, you’re more focused on the sensations and the pleasure it’s bringing you. On the way you can feel your mind slowly ease as he keeps worshipping your body.
You don’t care that you’re using each other. You want him, and he wants you. It doesn’t matter that you still have Satoru on your mind when it’s his friend, your other best friend, who is under you. It doesn’t matter to Suguru either, because it’s him with you, him that is making you gasp and squirm under his touch.
It is enough for him – he has never thought he would get there with you in the first place.
Your hands are busy as you fumble with the last buttons of his shirt, having just discarded yours on the floor, and Suguru can see how eager you are.
“Fuck,” He swears, but his voice remains soft as he gazes at you, detailing your almost naked form. His eyes find yours again, and they’re sparkling with an emotion you don’t seem to recognize. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”
He smiles at the way you turn your head, breaking eye contact with an impish smile. You’re flustered.
How cute.
And this moment is perfect. It’s perfect and yet, he has to ask. Before you go further and completely free him from his pants, your hands making quick work of his belt, he has to know that you’re as sure about this as he is.
He doesn’t think he could bear seeing the regret on your face come morning. The disappointment in your eyes when you would wake up, only to find him and not his friend in your bed.
It would destroy him. It would destroy you, and everything in between.
So as difficult as it is, he halts you with a finger on your lips when you lean in for another kiss.
He asks, “Are you sure you want this?”
It is innocent and full of good intentions – and you know it is in the way he strokes your cheek with care, his eyes giving you his undivided attention.
Yet you’re stupid and frustrated, and your heart aches so badly you just need someone to make it stop. So you can’t help but scoff, and say, “It’s like you want me to crawl back to him.”
The look he gives you makes you want to crawl into a hole, and you immediately want to take it back.
Because if there is one thing Suguru doesn’t want, it is seeing you desperatly running after his best friend the day after you’ve shared all of this. After he got to taste your lips and map out the curves of your body.
Gone are the caring gaze and the gentle touch – his eyes darken considerably, the hand that has been caressing the skin of your thigh ever so softly tightens around it, and it’s sure to leave imprints by the time you two are done. You can tell by the way the muscles of his jaw clench that he is pissed. Your heart thuds in your ears.
You are not used to this version of your best friend.
You can’t say you dislike it.
You wince at the way he says your name. Slowly, voice soft as it always is. Yet it’s different this time. It’s fueled with new emotions – frustration, annoyance, jealousy.
And oh, it looks so good on him, you can’t help but smirk.
That is your second mistake.
“Do you think it’s a game?”
Your smile falters, and you can’t seem to hold eye contact. Your cheeks flame, body tensing with apprehension. You lick your lips, wanting to answer honestly, but your brain feels too full of static for any sense to come out of you.
What isn’t a game? You think, but nothing comes out of your mouth. Your brain gives out and abandons you, like it sensed a predator too strong for him to defeat.
You feel chills run down your spine. A mad Suguru is an uncharted territory, that is undeniable, as he’s always been the reasonable one of your little trio of friends.
Suguru grabs your jaw so he can look you in the eyes, and growls, “Look at me.” There’s something like a warning in his tone, and you hate the fact that you absolutely love it.
He just stares at you, and you want to squirm. Your cheeks are hot, and he can definitely feel your excitement. It’s seeping through your underwear, and it’s obvious you feel self-conscious about it in the way you try to squeeze your thighs together, worried he might uncover your secret.
You seem to forget he knows you by heart.
“You want to forget? I’ll make you forget everything.” He pulls you further into his lap, and the hand cradling your thigh slightly tightens, while the other one reaches into your hair.
“I’ll make you forget his name.” He kisses you, hard and deep as the hand on your thigh rises ever so slightly to rub circles on the sensitive flesh.
“The color of his eyes.” He nips at your skin, tentatively licking and sucking on your neck, just below your jaw, and you can’t help but whimper. Your head instinctively lulls to the side to grant him access— And you can’t think, you don’t need to when he’s willing to do it for you. He knows what you’re thinking, what you want. What you like.
After all, you’re best friends. And best friends know best.
He would take all of your pain away, if you would just trust him.
“The sound of his voice.”
The pressure of his hand leaves imprints, all of which make their presence known the minute he pulls back. You whine at the loss, wanting to grab his hand and drag it back, but he’s got something else in mind.
Your voice is lost as he steals your breath, his words still ringing through your mind as he slowly moves down, kissing your throat, your collarbones, your chest.
You arch your back. It feels good, but this isn’t enough. Greed possesses you, clouds your mind entirely and makes you want everything all at once. His movements are slow but deliberate, and you quickly realize what he’s doing. You want more, you want him everywhere, and he’s making you wait for it.
He is teasing you. He is torturing you for having the audacity of bringing up the man you’re in love with in a moment so intimate, so pure. For making him ache for you when he knows your heart will never beat for him the same way it does for Satoru.
You can’t blame him. It doesn’t mean you can’t retaliate, though. In a surge of confidence, your eyes snap open, and you fist his hair with one hand to pull his mouth back to yours, hard. You decide he won’t get to mess with you, play you like an instrument, as you start grinding on him. And it’s hard, it’s throbbing beneath you, unlike anything you’ve ever felt.
Suguru doesn’t let your game last, though. He grabs you by the waist, lifting you to throw you on the mattress. Your back arches as you fall on the sheets, and he swiftly gets ahold of your wrists to pin them above your head. You gasp as he climbs over you, and your eyes meet his only to find him grinning at you.
He’s enjoying this way too much, it seems. You want to wipe that smirk off his face. – But you cannot deny his smile warms your heart.
His hand runs over your ribs, your thighs, until it stops at your lower belly. It is clear he is taking his sweet time, and although he doesn’t say a word, his silence speaks volumes. His eyes speak to you, telling you to beg. Ordering you to.
You do. You give in, pleading for him to touch you, to give you a taste of him like nothing else he’s ever gifted you with.
Satoru’s always said that Suguru’s love language was physical touch, and you’ve never believed that. That’s when you change your mind.
In one swift motion, his fingers slip under the waistband of your pants, and he enters you with one, then two broad fingers. You are impossibly drenched. So much that they slip easily, so quickly you can’t help but let out a strangled cry at the sensation.
You whimper against his shoulder, and you wish you could just reach out and grab onto him. Instead, you strain against his grip, hips desperately bucking against his hand.
Everything becomes about Suguru. About his smell, his touch, his voice.
His voice is but a murmur, it is saccharine when he whispers in your ear, his lips brushing your lobe, “Did you forget already? The way your heart beats faster when he’s in the room?” He rhythms his questions with quick thrusts, curling his digits so that they hit your sensitive spot. Your arousal pools over his palm, and the sound of your squelching makes him even harder.
“I’ll ruin you until he’s nothing more than a fleeting memory.” He growls, and the sound has you mewling and clenching your thighs.
That’s when you feel it rise inside of you. It rises and spills out, and suddenly he’s all you can think about.
You’re drowning in your essence, coloring the sheets a shade darker and it is all because of him. He releases your arms and lifts you easily, pulling you on his lap once again.
Finally.
Your legs slide up, clinging to his waist as he shrugs down the last piece of clothing that still separates the two of you. It springs out, free, hard, and pulsing, and your mouth waters at the sight.
It is burning hot, pink, and throbbing and you’ve never noticed how beautiful your best friend was until now.
You bite your lower lip, eyes wandering over his face. You nod into his chest when he silently asks you if it’s okay, and of course he does. He’s always been so gentle.
Your fingers bury themselves in his locks, fisting his hair when he finally lines up with your entrance and fills you full of him, and your teeth bite his shoulder at the intrusion. It is sure to leave a mark, – he wants it to.
He’s burning his way inside of you, marking you up from the inside, and you don’t think you’ve ever felt this full. He pulls you taunt against him, hauling you up by your thighs and thrusting hard and slow like he’s disciplining you. He holds eye contact, of course he does, and although his movements may be harsh, his eyes… His eyes are so gentle, so full of….
No.
You mentally laugh at yourself. You’re dreaming, he could never…
You cry out a moan when he hits the spot, and processes to abuse it repeatedly. He takes you like you’ve never been before, it feels so… Different. The fact it is Suguru you’re sleeping with makes all the difference. Everyone knows how close the two of you are, how complementary, and even Satoru keeps saying how you two are so much alike. You used to think he was exaggerating.
You’re not so sure he was, with the way Suguru seems to know what you need before you even formulate the thought.
Yet he’s always known. He knows what you like and dislike, what you want and don’t want.
He knows which expressions you make when you’re happy, sad. When you’re excited.
And now, he even knows what you look like when you’re close. Your lips are parted, your eyes a little glassy, and with the way you clench around him he has to do mental sports to not burst inside you.
You’re driving him insane.
And while you’re bouncing on him, his hand starts rubbing at your clit, the combination turning you into a blabbering mess. It’s all too much. Your foreheads are pressed together, your hand still buried into Suguru’s hair and you close your eyes when your whimpers turn into full-blown wails. He pulls you into a deep kiss and swallows your moans as you burst.
He feels it coming too, and you see it. You nod at him, giving him your okay to come within you, to paint you with the white of his release and the red of his bleeding heart.
Yet he objects and pulls out before it happens. You’re confused, he sees that, – but you’re still in a daze.
He won’t allow his feelings to take this away from you. Maybe someday, in another universe, he would allow himself to finish with you, to paint you with his colors like you did with yours.
Maybe on the day you’ll finally be his and his only, on the day he won’t have to be ashamed of feeling so strongly toward his best friend. This isn’t the day.
And when you go back to your senses, you can only see him looking at you with a smirk. It seems forced, a little sad even. But maybe it’s just your daze that is making you see things that aren’t there.
And just like that, he asks, “So, what color?”
“Hm?”
“What color are Satoru’s eyes, sweetheart?”
“I…I…” You try to pull yourself back to reality, but you cannot do it. You can’t seem to remember the color of your best friend’s eyes.
Suguru grins, and his voice sends a tingle down your spine when he says, “Good girl.”
Satoru Gojo 1 - Suguru Geto 1. Now, they are even.
So, are you happy to have ruined your chances with the love of your life?
Or did you really?
secret route (coming soon!)
beautiful evil man with long hair save me
rbs are much appreciated <3
#✿yas. writes!!!#yall can't tell me sugu wouldnt be competitive as hell#this took SO LONG AND IM STILL NOT SATISFIED AKJNJD#jujutsu kaisen#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#geto suguru smut#geto suguru x reader#geto suguru x you#getou suguru imagine#geto x you#geto x reader#geto imagines#geto smut#geto x y/n#geto suguru#jjk best friends to lovers#geto fluff#geto x reader fluff
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