#we get along infamously
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we get along infamously
pairing: jeonghan x reader
wordcount: 5.2k
summary: you can never, have never, will never get along with Yoon Jeonghan, but unfortunately you have a chemistry that is simply undeniable. no strings attached is perfect, except when those pesky feelings and that new girl decide to pop up unannounced.
genre/themes: smut, enemies to lovers, rivals to lovers, emotional constipation, reader is in denial. chaotic seungkwan.
a/n: OKKK! this is filthy so i hope you enjoy it :)
You sighed deeply as you looked at Jeonghan across the office. You’d thought that, maybe, after hooking up with him your strong feeling of anger towards this man would dissipate. No such luck. It seemed that the only time you could stand him was when you were in the midst of intercourse with him. Even shortly before and after, you found yourself bickering.
“If you plan to kill him, please do it off of company property,” your HR manager and friend, Minghao, joked as he took a seat beside you.
“Of course, Hao, I would never force you to do that paperwork,” you laughed heartily.
“Thank you,” he nodded at you prudently.
“I know I’m not supposed to know in an official capacity, but…?” Hao shot a meaningful look at you.
“Yeah,” you sighed, “We did.”
“And?”
“Incredible. Infuriatingly incredible. And I still want to beat him with a rock at work.”
“Hm, interesting,” Minghao quirked an eyebrow at your statement. “So much for all of that nonsense about dopamine and whatnot.”
“Seems so,” you wrinkled your nose at your friend before glancing at your computer screen. “Did you need something for real? Otherwise I should actually do some work today.”
“Nope, just being nosy,” Hao laughed, standing to leave your cube.
“See you later,” you blew him an exaggerated kiss as he left.
Jeonghan’s eyes flitted surreptitiously from your cube as Minghao walked away from it. He certainly hadn’t been keeping tabs on you and he definitely wasn’t curious who was making you laugh.
Yoon Jeonghan. Your workplace rival for the better part of the last year. He had been hired on as your peer and had been a hotshot right out of the gate. He was smart and sharp, which were generally desirable traits, but also maddeningly argumentative and cunning. He had a talent for managing office politics that utterly infuriated you.
‘cozying up to minghao?’ an instant message from Jeonghan popped up.
You rolled your eyes, closing out of the chat window to return to your work at hand. The lines of code stared at you as you picked up where you had left off.
‘are you free tonight?’ Jeonghan was persistent today.
‘this could be considered harassment’
Your phone pinged shortly after.
‘sorry, i forgot about your paranoia’ the message from Jeonghan’s unsaved number read. ‘my question still stands’
You mulled the question over for a long time. On the one hand, the sex really had been incredible, but on the other hand, you really couldn’t stand him. As you thought, a perfectly timed message popped up on your screen.
boo: ‘what do you think about a double date tonight?’
You sent the declination to Jeonghan shortly before sending the affirmation to Seungkwan. Nodding to yourself, you tucked your phone away, determined to finish this section of code.
Jeonghan’s jaw ticked as he read your response. While he didn’t think he’d had his hopes up, what he felt in his gut was surprisingly similar to disappointment. Clicking his tongue, he put out a few other half-hearted feelers before returning to his work as well.
…
“I’m not going to lie, I’m surprised you said yes to this!” Seungkwan chattered next to you on the subway.
“Oh, yeah,” you laughed, “Well, I’ve been thinking of dating again anyways and I happened to be free tonight!”
“Really?” Seungkwan’s shocked expression made you laugh. “I-, if I’d known you were serious I would’ve fixed you up with someone better!”
“Who is my half of the date?” you turned to Seungkwan, eye twitching menacingly.
“It’s not bad!” Seungkwan shouted defensively, “He’s just kind of boring! I figured you’d just come and get some free food.”
“Okay, okay, I can deal with boring,” you reassured your friend, “But next time set me up with someone exciting!” you teased.
Halfway into dinner you began to wonder if you had cursed yourself. While Seungkwan’s date was more than personable and fun, you found that you and Juwon could hardly string together two sentences, let alone a conversation. While there was nothing specifically wrong with him, it seemed that the venn diagram of your interests just did not overlap one bit. By the time dinner drew to a close, you were more than ready to head home.
“It was nice to meet you!” you bowed politely to everyone. Seungkwan and Seyoon had decided to continue their night and so you took the subway back alone. As you fiddled through your phone, you noticed Jeonghan’s message from earlier. Against your better judgment, you found yourself wondering.
‘what are the chances you’re still available?’ you shoved aside your pride to send the message.
Jeonghan’s eyebrows shot into his hairline as the banner notification appeared above his text exchange with Minju. Your timing couldn’t be worse.
‘non zero’
‘i see. well i’m on the subway that passes by your place, so if that chance improves within the next 7 minutes, do let me know.’
Jeonghan scoffed. Four minutes passed before he texted you again. Three minutes after that you were leaving the subway car and headed towards his apartment building.
“Well, well, well,” he greeted you smugly as he opened the door for you, “Look what the cat dragged in.”
“Shut up,” you scowled before pulling him by his neckline into a fervent kiss.
“I thought you weren’t free,” Jeonghan couldn’t help but probe as he pulled your jacket off of your shoulders.
“I wasn’t,” you shrugged.
“But you’re here now?” Jeonghan almost smacked his own mouth. What was it about you that made his brain stop functioning properly?
“Would you really like to hear about my dull date?” you sighed, pulling back and fixing him with a stare, “Or would you rather fuck me until I cry?”
Jeonghan blinked. He gave you a once over before his lips curled into an almost cruel smirk. You found yourself being dragged into his bedroom and pushed down onto your knees.
“Wait here,” he instructed before leaving.
Your left eye twitched as you heard him fiddling around the kitchen, no doubt idly passing the time, making you wait. Unfortunately for you, Jeonghan now knew that making you wait turned you on just about as much as it made you mad. You tried to practice meditative breathing and ignore the fact that you were leaking.
Jeonghan stood in the kitchen, running his tongue across the edge of his incisors. The waiting was as torturous for him as it was for you, but the prospect of the delayed gratification outweighed everything else. Tapping his fingertips against the countertop, he counted down the minutes until he would let himself back into the bedroom.
“You’re so pretty when you listen,” you heard his drawling voice eventually.
“Hn,” you murmured lightly.
Jeonghan was surprised to see your eyes calmly closed when he faced you fully. You really did have a talent for being good when you wanted to be. He reached out a hand, stroking your hair down to your chin and sliding his thumb between your lips.
Your eyes shot open, tongue wrapping around him, warm and wet. You took severe pleasure in the way that his adam’s apple bobbed.
“Can I be rough?” he asked.
“Yes,” you nodded, in fact you wanted him to be.
“Good,” he nodded before pressing your face against his erection, straining through the fabric of his shorts.
Humming with pleasure, your lips sought him out, nipping gently along his length. His grip slackened and you made quick work of his pants, allowing him to jut out heavily at you. You moaned appreciatively before closing your lips around him.
“Fucking christ,” Jeonghan hissed, his lip curled up into a snarl as you worked his length. You’d think he’d never received head before, the way his brow was worked up in ecstasy. You swallowed down to his hilt before giggling around him. It was fun to see him suffer for a change.
“You minx,” Jeonghan growled, pulling you off of him, clinging to his last threads of sanity.
“Too much, Hannie?” you teased, wiping saliva off your chin.
“Cute,” he squinted, pulling you to your feet.
“Oop!” you exclaimed, falling into him.
“You okay!?” a look of concern flashed across his face as he caught you.
“My legs,” you chuckled, maneuvering to the bed, “They fell asleep!”
“Oh,” Jeonghan nodded, wondering if he had made you wait too long.
“Tingly,” you giggled, laying back for a stretch. Your toes stretched towards the ceiling and Jeonghan’s eyes widened as he was favored with an unobstructed view of your obviously damp panties.
“For me? You shouldn’t have,” he smirked, placing his index and middle finger against you.
“Maybe it was my date,” you laughed, enjoying the way his jaw tensed.
“Oh?” one eyebrow raised. “So why is it me who’s knuckle deep inside of you?”
“Jeonghan!” you gasped at the intrusion. His long fingers curled into you and your legs fell open, hips shifting up for more.
“So wet, listen to yourself,” he shook his head appreciatively.
You flushed. You could hear yourself far too clearly.
“Please,” you mewled desperately, right hand seeking out his wrist.
“What is it?” he asked, pressing his thumb against your clit.
“Jeonghan, please!” you cried, head thrown back in desperation.
“Hm, no. I don’t think so,” he sniffed, hand stilling just before you crested the wave.
A string of vivid curse words left your mouth as Jeonghan’s fingers followed suit. He blinked, impressed at your colorful vocabulary.
“If and when you cum, it’s going to be on my cock,” he decided aloud.
“If?!”
“When,” he corrected himself, but not before laughing. If you were a cartoon, you’d have a halo of flames drawn around your head. “Can you stand up?”
You brought yourself toe to toe with Jeonghan. Your heart pounded in your ears as he tugged gently at the straps of your tank top.
“Got all pretty just for him to be a bore, huh?” he murmured softly, index finger wandering further and further down your neckline.
“Mhm,” you purred, “You’re not boring though,” you pursed your lips. It almost pained you to compliment him, but you knew the way you’d be rewarded if you stroked his ego.
“Hah!” he let out a laugh as he tugged lightly at your top, “Get out of this.”
His hands turned you towards the bed and folded you forward. His fingers traced a line down your spine before gripping your hips tightly, lining himself up against you. You bounced on the balls of your feet, your wet folds nudging him impatiently.
“God, you are wet,” he groaned as he teased himself in and out of you.
“Yoon. Jeonghan. Please.” you begged through gritted teeth.
His lips curled into a pleased smile and he pulled himself into you. He set a punishing pace, exactly what you needed, and fucked you headfirst into the mattress, interrupted only by the occasional dizzying spank. Your hands were fisted in his sheets when you came around him the first time, sudden and without warning.
He didn’t stop, instead setting his jaw and working towards his own release. Your second orgasm roiled as he plowed into you, turning you inside out.
“I’m close,” he warned you. You nodded, clutching around him. His hips stuttered before he pulled out, emptying himself on the small of your back. “Fuck,” he breathed.
You laid together for a few moments, collecting yourselves, before Jeonghan stood up to retrieve a washcloth. He cleaned you up so gently that you almost couldn’t believe he was the same person that you knew from work.
“Thanks?” you offered awkwardly as you pulled your shoes on.
“Thanks?” Jeonghan let out a true laugh, “No need to thank me. Next time just say yes the first time I ask,” he rolled his eyes at you. You pursed your lips at him before slipping out the door.
…
“I want to go home,” you repeated yourself to Minghao for what felt like the tenth time of the day.
“I’m aware,” he replied dryly.
“Why, why, why must we do this stupid ‘team building’ outing?” your griping fell upon deaf ears as the escape room facilitator signaled everyone for their attention.
“For the record, I need you to know that I voted against this,” Minghao spoke after the person had finished. “Like you, I am but a cog in the wheel.”
“I know, I just hate this,” you grumbled as the instructor divided everyone into teams. You frowned at Minghao as you left him for team number four. Your eyes sought out Daehwi, who stood holding four fingers above his head.
“YN!” he waved animatedly as you walked towards him. You smiled, relieved, as you walked towards him. You weren’t as close to Daehwi as you were to Minghao, but it was nice to at least have a friendly face on the team. Your mood soured severely, however, when you noticed Jeonghan and Jae walking towards you.
“Man, I’m so stoked to be on your team!” Jae gushed, “You’re so good at games!”
You fought back an eye roll. Jae was a junior developer who had quite the work crush on Jeonghan. It would almost be cute if he wasn’t always so loud about it.
“Hey teammate,” Jeonghan greeted you cooly, stepping a few feet to your left.
“Hi Jae, good to see you,” you waved to the younger man as you stepped away from Jeonghan pointedly.
“Really?” Jeonghan raised an amused eyebrow at you.
“I don’t like being seen with you,” you lied.
Jeonghan blinked rapidly, holding in his snide comment about how you’d seemed quite happy to be around him earlier this week. Before he could actually speak, a low energy teen arrived to walk the group through basic safety.
…
“Must you be so stubborn at work?” Jeonghan muttered as he dragged his teeth across your collarbone. You didn’t answer him, instead gasping at the sensation. Jeonghan had been pleasantly surprised at how little of a fight you had put up when he had invited you over this time.
“I don’t want people to know,” you answered after you’d recovered your presence of mind.
“I don’t think you have anything to worry about there,” he chuckled darkly, skimming his hands over the material of your leggings. “God, you drove me crazy all day in these.”
“Oh?” you smiled, pleased to hear that.
“All I wanted to do was drag you home and tear them off of you.”
“So do it,” you laughed, more than willing.
“Hmm, we have time tonight though,” Jeonghan smirked. He wanted to ruin you tonight.
“Hannie,” you groaned playfully, even though you already trusted that Jeonghan would make it well worth it.
“Be good for me, huh?” he raised an eyebrow at you, holding your face close. Your eyes fluttered before you nodded, swallowing loudly. He planted a disarmingly soft kiss on your nose before hauling you onto his bed.
Prying your legs open, he settled in, hands around your waist as he nuzzled his cheek against your inner thigh. He nipped gently, the sensation somewhat dulled by the leggings as his hands reached up, pushing your shirt off of you. You helped shrug off your bra as well and he palmed your breasts, squeezing possessively.
“Aaah!” you let out a strangled moan as his lips found your clit and pressed firmly. “Hannie!” you gasped, hand threading through his hair as he massaged you. Grinning, he hummed against you, the slight vibration turning your mind into verified mush. “Jeong-han!” you babbled, thighs closing against his ears as you struggled to keep it together. Your breathing paused for a moment as you tensed, perched right on the edge of orgasm.
“Go ahead,” he mumbled against you and you let yourself cum, voice cracking as you did.
“Fuck,” you looked at him, breathless.
“C’mere,” he gestured after laying back against the headboard.
Curious, you climbed atop him, straddling him. He guided your hips, dragging your now soaked center against the length of his shaft, teasing both him and yourself. Your eyes sparkled as you caught on and you ground yourself against him.
“You’re so hard,” you giggled. You enjoyed watching the small details of his face, his raised forehead vein, the slight scrunch of his nose, and the fluttering of his eyelids as you dragged yourself torturously against him. “Can I please have you inside of me?” you pouted.
“Soon,” he reassured you, hands back on your hips, pulling your clit flush against him, hard.
“Jeonghan!” you gasped at the direct pressure, gripping his wrists for support as he bucked up against you. Your eyes watered as you held back, waiting for his permission before you came against him, leaving a wet stain on his sweatpants.
“Now you can have me,” he decided, shrugging off his clothes as you did the same. You climbed back atop him, sliding down around him.
“Fuckkk,” you whimpered, brows knitting with pleasure as he bottomed out.
“YN,” he groaned, glaring at you with dilated pupils as you clenched playfully around him. “Tease,” he chided, but it was half-hearted at best.
“Yes,” you laughed before pushing up on your knees. You could honestly say you felt giddy at the way he hissed underneath you as you sheathed him again, arms looped around his neck for support.
“I-, I’m almost-,” Jeonghan bit out as you rolled your hips against him.
“You gonna cum for me, Hannie?” you teased, keeping up the pace despite the burning of your thighs.
“Yes,” he panted.
Smiling mischievously, you leaned forward. “Be a good boy and cum for me,” you whispered. The effect was immediate. His eyes shot open and his hands tightened around your waist. His hips bucked against you as he came intensely.
“You liked that?” you smiled, catlike, at him after he had recovered.
“You will pay for that,” he threatened you half-heartedly. It wasn’t a no.
You scrunched your nose at him before getting up to help clean up. Jeonghan furrowed his brows, it was unusual, but he didn’t stop you.
“What would you say if I proposed getting dinner?” Jeonghan hypothesized as he propped his head up with a pillow.
“I’d ask whether you needed to see a doctor.”
“Why? Is it so crazy to ask that?” He couldn't help but feel frustrated.
“Why would you want that? Things are fine as they are.”
“Are they?” he asked, eyes narrowed.
“Aren’t they?” you countered, your pulse pounding in your ears. “I gotta go,” you decided, sliding off the bed to look for your things. Jeonghan didn’t move, so at least you were spared your traditionally awkward goodbye at the door when you left.
…
“Alright, what is eating you?” Seungkwan finally asks after he catches you lost in thought a second time.
“Huh?”
“Minghao, what the hell is wrong with her?” Seungkwan decides to try another avenue.
“I think I know, but I don’t think I can tell you,” Minghao glances slowly at you.
“Let’s see what your working theory is,” you laughed tiredly.
“She’s been hooking up with her workplace rival. And I think she’s catching feelings.”
“What?!”
“You big stupid idiot!” Seungkwan almost yells, “What is a rival if not a crush that you’re mad about having?”
“What are you talking about?!” you yell back at your friend, drawing the attention of the few other patrons who are outside on the patio.
“And that’s why we don’t claim her in programming,” Jeonghan laughed sarcastically as he took a seat with Jae. You flushed, having completely forgotten that multiple coworkers had been invited to today’s happy hour.
“As to be expected from Tactician Yoon,” a new voice joined in, one you didn’t recognize.
“Ah, Hyemi, you made it!” Seungkwan smiled delightedly, gesturing her over. “Everyone, Hyemi just joined us in HR recently.”
You smiled at her, having noticed her around the building recently.
“Tactician Yoon?” Jeonghan asked after introductions were made. “Why do you have a nickname for me when we haven’t even met?” he asked Hyemi with interest.
“Perhaps she just has good instincts,” you chimed in, “You couldn’t pay me to say something nice about him,” you chuckled.
“Oh, I just know that there are few quite as keen with office politics as Yoon Jeonghan,” she replied playfully. “You’re welcome to spend more time with me, if you’re interested in giving me a nickname as well.”
Seungkwan’s eyes widened painfully with interest. To Hyemi’s credit, Jeonghan was at a loss for words, something that was rare to see. Sipping your beer a little faster, you tried to ignore the sinking feeling in your chest as you realized they were flirting.
“I’m gonna bounce,” you announced to Seungkwan and Minghao as you stood from the table. “Good luck, Hyemi,” you teased before taking your leave.
By the time Jeonghan returned from the restroom, you were gone. He itched to know why you’d left, but couldn’t really ask anyone without blowing your cover. Pulling out his phone, he typed out a quick message. It was normal to at least check if you were okay, right?
“Jeonghan!” Hyemi waved at him. Jeonghan slipped his phone back into his pocket, but couldn’t help the small tug of guilt that accompanied the action.
[redacted]: ‘you okay?’
You sighed loudly, disturbing all of the people waiting with you for the subway. If he could just leave you alone, that would be perfect.
yn: ‘i’m fine, just tired.’
[redacted]: ‘sure. hey you were great the other day, by the way’
yn: ‘??’
[redacted]: ‘in the escape room. you really took the lead on the puzzle activity. a lot of the junior developers have been saying they look up to you. i thought you should know’
yn: ‘ah, thanks. you too. you already know this, obviously, but hyemi is right. you’re very good at managing upwards. even if it makes me mad, it’s admirable’
[redacted]: ‘that actually means a lot coming from you’
Jeonghan lifted his hand to his mouth to help hide the giant grin on his face. You had never complimented him outright before and he was surprised to find himself almost giddy over it. Looking up, he tried to reorient himself in the conversation before anyone else noticed.
“What do you think, Jeonghan? Ready to turn in? Or are you staying out with the kiddos?” Seungkwan asked, gesturing to Jae and Hyemi, who were looking towards a few of the interns, eager to keep the night going.
“I’m officially old,” Jeonghan laughed, “So I think I’m gonna have to turn in.”
“Want my number in case you change your mind?” Hyemi glanced hopefully towards him.
“Good thinking,” he smiled at her, offering up his phone. Seungkwan was practically throttling Minghao in excitement as he looked on. Minghao prayed that you’d come to your senses quickly.
…
[redacted]: ‘can i see you after work?’
You fought back a smile as you reread Jeonghan’s text. The week had been stressful from a work perspective and all of the developers had been working a significant amount of overtime. You’d also be lying if you’d said that your newly realized jealousy hadn’t taken a toll on you either.
By the time you got to Jeonghan’s apartment, you were almost running, excited to blow off some steam. You weren’t quite ready to admit that you were eager to see him too, but that was also true. Jeonghan had left the door unlocked for you, so you entered unceremoniously.
“Whoa!” Jeonghan laughed as you nearly bowled him over.
“Missed you,” you offered as an explanation, “Need you,” you muttered, not really thinking as you tugged impatiently at his shirt.
Jeonghan’s eyes widened, but he was quickly distracted and backed you onto the living room couch. You sank down as it hit the back of your knees and Jeonghan kneeled down between your legs. You made quick work of your pants and he slid two fingers into you smoothly. The intrusion was welcome, but you could quickly tell that it wouldn’t be enough. Not this time at least.
“I need you to fuck me,” you looked up at him, eyes desperate, “Please, no teasing this time. I just need you.”
He nodded, shifting to move, but you had one more request. You caught his wrist, flushing pink before you made your request.
“I don’t know why I want this, but…will you cum in me?”
“In you?” he had to confirm he had heard right.
“I can’t stop thinking about it, please,” you were embarrassed to admit.
“I can’t say I’ve never thought about it myself,” his lips curled up into a grin.
You held on for dear life as he thrust into you urgently. Your noises mingled together as you came around him and he released his first load into you. Breathing deeply, his body slumped over you. You looked up at him with a smile, brushing a few stray hairs out of his field of vision.
“So needy for me,” he chuckled after recovering. You glanced away from him, slightly embarrassed at your own desperation.
“It’s been a long week,” you admitted.
“That is has,” he nodded, moving to pull out of you. “You want something to wear? I’m not done with you yet, but I am gonna need a second.”
“Sure,” you nodded, pulling on a t-shirt and pair of boxers shortly after.
“Do you think we’re ready to move into testing?” Jeonghan asked about the project as he passed you a glass of water.
“Yes, I think so,” you answered after a few gulps. You were surprised to find that your conversation moved smoothly and without argument for once. In truth, things had been much tamer with Jeonghan since your text exchange with him, which made it all the more frustrating to know that he would move on with Hyemi soon.
Jeonghan studied you for a moment after realizing that your attention had wandered. Part of him almost regretted dressing you in his clothes because he simply liked it too much. The creampie, this conversation, it was a lot of new things in one night.
“What?” your eyes turned back on him after noticing his stare.
“What? You’re the one who stopped paying attention to what I was saying,” he complained, but it was playful.
“Sorry, I-, uh,” you stammered, not quite able to articulate your thoughts. Jeonghan raised an eyebrow at you. “You are…leaking out of me,” you finally confessed, blushing high in your cheeks. “And I don’t hate it,” you grinned.
Jeonghan groaned before dragging you into his bedroom. He knew you always wanted to torture him, but this was even worse than usual. His mind raced as he sat you on the edge of the bed.
“I know you love being a brat, but even for you this is filthy,” he looked down at you sternly.
“You like it,” you teased.
“I do,” he nodded, sliding his hand along your inner thigh and collecting some of himself on his fingers. “So desperate for my cum,” he chuckled as you sucked his fingers into your mouth.
You smiled, lips curling around him and Jeonghan felt his blood grow hot. He pulled his fingers from your mouth with a wet pop and landed a wet slap on your pussy. As he instructed, you undressed and waited for him. You watched as he rummaged around his drawer.
“Got something for you,” he grins before sliding a vibrator into you.
“OoooOoh!” your moan wavers as he turns it on.
“I want to see just how long it takes you to tap out,” he challenges you, glancing at the clock, “It’s eight seventeen.”
Jeonghan controls the vibrator leisurely, ramping the speed up and down as he likes. You quickly find out that, unlike usual, you can cum as much as you like, but he won’t be turning it off until you tap out. It’s not long before he has you seeing stars and any concern you had about a noise complaint is pushed out of your head to make room for the overwhelming sensation of back to back orgasms.
“Hannie!” you finally gasp, “Stop!”
Jeonghan complies, immediately shutting it off and pulling it out of you gently. He climbs over you, stroking your hair and peppering you with soft kisses.
“Incredible,” he smiles proudly at you and your heart hitches in your throat. He continues to murmur soft compliments into your hair as you collect yourself.
Pushing aside the urge to fall asleep, you climb over Jeonghan, straddling him. You can’t explain it, but you want one more. You feel greedy tonight. Your hands cup his jaw as you lower yourself on him, slow and sensual. You’re slightly sore, but you are dead set on getting him to cum in you one more time.
“Fuck, YN,” he sighs, hands draped loosely at your hips. He smiles up at you genuinely and you almost still. He really was handsome.
“I need-, can I?” Jeonghan’s eyes squeeze shut, unable to complete his thought. Luckily, you don’t need him to.
“Yes,” you nod furiously, “Cum in me again.”
Jeonghan lets out a strangled curse when he does. You squeeze, milking him as your forehead rests against his. You allow yourself to feel contentedly full for a few moments before rolling off of him.
“I should leave,” you eventually stammered, pulling back from Jeonghan’s arms. “I might be able to grab dinner if I leave now,” you thought aloud.
Jeonghan nodded. He had run through probably a hundred versions of this moment in his mind, but still he felt frozen. He watched as you slipped on your shoes and bag and waved a small wave at him before slipping out the door. A moment later, inspiration struck.
“Oh!” you looked as the elevator doors opened back up. “Jeonghan?”
“I almost forgot, there’s been a weird guy hanging out in front of the complex. I’ll walk you to the station if he’s there,” he lied.
“Ah…thank you,” you smiled awkwardly at him.
“Oh! I’ve been thinking,” you turned to him after a few floors had passed.
He looked at you, slightly surprised. Almost hopeful.
“If you, well-,” you stuttered, not quite sure how to phrase it. “When you pursue Hyemi, I think we should have a clean break. So maybe give me a couple weeks' notice.”
“Ah,” Jeonghan nodded, brow furrowing at the mention of her name. He had drafted more than a few texts to her this week, but ultimately deleted them all. She’d left the ball in his court and he felt frustrated that he was fumbling it without a real reason.
“I would hope even you, Tactician Yoon, would know that,” you teased, unable to bear the drawn out silence.
“When? Not if?” Jeonghan asked, glancing sideways at you.
“I didn’t think it was still a matter of if?” you asked, heart squeezing with hope.
“If…you want it to be.”
Your heart hammered angrily as the elevator made it to the ground floor. The doors opened and then closed again. Turning to meet Jeonghan’s expectant gaze, you smile sheepishly and press the button back to his floor.
...
Thanks so much for reading! Part two is here if you’re so inclined. :)
#jeonghan smut#jeonghan fanfic#jeonghan x reader#seventeen smut#svt smut#kpop smut#seventeen fanfic#seventeen scenario#seventeen x reader#svt x reader#svt scenarios#svt fanfic#we get along infamously#seungkwansphd:writes
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Observing the fandoms of shows I watch that have lots of fans that skew younger makes me kind of marvel at how different things are in online fandom even just 10 years after I was their age.
Like, I know I probably sounded like I was losing my mind every 5 seconds in posts I made as a teenager, but some things I see nowadays are actually concerning. I see people taking things waaaayyyyyy too seriously. It’s a TV show. It’s not obligated to go in the direction you want it to. It’s not the end of the world when it doesn’t. It’s not even the end of the TV show yet. Who’s to say it won’t go in that direction eventually, or even do something completely different that you’ll like even more than what you initially wanted? And outside the bubble of those younger fans on tumblr and twitter, no one really cares about the same issues that are being blown out of proportion here.
#no spoilers but i'll tag just in case#st spoilers#stranger things spoilers#specifically this is about stranger things and umbrella academy but i also saw it in the julie and the phantoms fandom too#but i'm seeing people act like a certain ship not becoming canon is the end of everything#am i the only one who had the sense to realize that realistically it probably wouldn't be canon and at least not right now if ever#like can we not joke about coming after a teenage actor because they ship the ship that didn't become canon and gave people hope#the actor just wanted to interact with fans. nothing malicious. honestly it's not even misleading.#anyway it's 2am and i watched stranger things this morning and then rewatched episode 8 when my brother watched it#and i'm still like processing the whole season so i can't even allow myself to pay attention to these younger fans#i just see the posts and tweets and i'm like '...nope... really glad i'm not that age right now... not gonna even touch that issue...'#honestly. these kids need glee. that desensitized me from asking for stuff from my shows because then it'd happen#and then it'd blow up in some weird way or just get undone by the end of a season or just be stupid and not what i wanted#only rarely did things i REALLY want to happen happen on glee. the rest of the time i was just along for the ride.#and that's the mindset i have when watching tv shows to this day. so honestly. thank you glee.#quick someone find the gif of soos in gravity falls saying 'this better be exactly like my fanfiction or i will be VERY disappointed.'#also something being hinted at and foreshadowed doesn't make it predictable when it happens. it makes it planned.#i swear. people are getting too used to shock killings or plot twists out of nowhere that they're forgetting what foreshadowing is.#the finale has a 9.6 rating on IMDB right now. a site that is infamous for being incredibly skewed if even half a fandom hates something.#(believe me. doctor who's IMDB ratings are all over the place due to a loud group of Thirteen's haters)#so if even a good chunk of the fandom disliked the finale then the score would be much lower. but it's not.#maybe it will go down a bit as more people watch. but this is not game of thrones. but i see people treating it like it is.#and really only focusing on 2 or 3 maybe 4 specific issues and writing off everything else.#(not trying to swat a hornet's nest or start crazy discourse and my anon is turned off so just don't come at me. i don't care.)
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you've heard of do it scared and do it alone here comes do it annoyed
#went on a walk yesterday because urghhh i need to sort shit out with my health so i can get more T lmao#and anyway Yeah i really didn't want to because i never liked it but honestly it wasn't that bad#it wasn't good either but like. i tolerated it a lot more than when we did walks in therapy#i think being alone and setting my own pace and path instead of following along with a group helped#like. i think the being in a group part was among the reasons it made me feel like shit (besides the leg pain)#because it took me back to what i consider to be the worst most dehumanizing moments in my life#aka the infamous 'walk from the train station to university among crowd of hundreds of students taking the same path for the same reason'#i get that it may not sound bad but nothing made me feel worthless like being Yet Another identical nobody in a herd#one that didn't stand out one that didn't have any defining reasons to be there. just Commuting Student number whatever#the knowledge that the crowd would look all the same if i wasn't in it. if i died it would change nothing#we were all clocking in to the 'become valuable to capitalism' center like that was all we were ever meant for#so yeah therapy walks kinda took me back there i'd say#but this time i was all on my own and could go wherever and set my own goal (go to the nice bakery downtown)#head EMPTY just focusing on my tunes going through streets and paths i'd never been on#also my legs don't hurt like they did back then probs because i didn't have to walk fast to keep up with a group#and also maybe T strengthened them a bit already idk either way#i hope the weather doesn't get too shitty for me not to be able to go like. i still have limits lol
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Trueform sukuna who never kisses his concubines. EXCEPT he only kisses his favorite concubine aka reader 😞🎀
𝝑𝑒 synopsis. you’re the only one deserving of lord sukuna’s.. direct affection.
tags. true form!sukuna x concubine!reader. fluff, suggestive at most. uhh exhibitionism ? kinda but nothing crazy sexual happens, so pda. size difference. reader gets called ‘doll.’
you’re standing at the entrance of the estate, along with some other concubines. four of them. uraume is there with you as well. you’re all awaiting the one person you’re serving; ryomen sukuna.
it’s silent. the women don’t dare to speak up nor do they dare address you in a menacing manner because of uraume’s presence. you’re thankful for them. you really don’t want to have another petty fight with the concubines. not before your little trip to the village nearby.
you’re all accompanying sukuna to meet up with an infamous clan leader. it’s official business, but you’re needed as a sign of your lord’s high status. you’re basically his trophies that he likes to show off.
“interesting choice of clothing,” sukuna finally shows up. you all bow, showing respect. you look up and only then realise that he’s addressing you. his eyes wander over your figure, “who’s chosen that for you?”
you glance down at your kimono. it’s a beautiful red—suiting the color of sukuna’s eyes. your hair is put up in a neat bun, with a matching crimson hairpin that represented who you belong to.
him.
“my lady-in-waiting, my lord,” you say quietly. you cannot see it, yet can easily feel it; the jealous glares from the four women. they’re dressed in the exact same color red, yet their lord hasn’t paid them any mind. not even a glance.
sukuna just hums in response and makes a mental note of your answer. at least his human servants are good for something. he continues to shamelessly check you out.
“lord sukuna,” uraume interrupts carefully. they bow their head once the king of curses looks their way with a stoic expression, “we’ll have to leave now if we wish to make it there at dawn.”
it’s a gentle reminder, but there’s some urgency in their voice. sukuna rolls his eyes—he may have some official business, but he’s not attending that. not before taking care of other more important stuff first. “silence,” he comments to uraume, heavy steps heading your way afterwards.
your eyes meet his. you blink in confusion, eyelashes fluttering. the sight makes sukuna’s hands twitch at his sides. the way you stare up at him with such naïveté is making him want to destroy it.
you’re unsure what sukuna wants from you. as he orders, everyone stays quiet. you watch as his big hands wrap around your body—your waist engulfed by his warm palms. your eyes widen, but before you can question his actions, your lips are sealed by his.
it’s rare that he does this. kissing sukuna is a privilege. one that no one has ever gotten the honour of having, except for you.
you’ve tasted him. you’ve felt his tongue slither against yours. you’ve had his saliva mix with yours. you’ve had him grunting in your mouth.
you’ve had it all.
no one says a thing. even as your feet are lifted from the ground by the sheer strength of sukuna’s grip on your small body. to reach his lips properly, he has to pick you up and hold you against his chest. it’s his favorite thing to do.
“pretty thing,” sukuna coos with a grin. you can feel his lips curling up menacingly against your mouth. it makes you whine. you instantly shut up once you realise that you’re still outside and surrounded by others—who are basically waiting on you two to be done.
you’re embarrassed to the point that you want nothing more than to hide your face against sukuna’s chest. but he will not let you until he’s had his fill. your tongues swirl around each other passionately, followed by him sucking on your bottom lip and biting it with his sharp fangs.
“my lord,” you whine quietly. you know this’ll end up like that one time in the garden. where he shamelessly took you in front of his servants. you’re unsure if it’s a smart thing to do right now. sukuna has an appointment to go to after all.
his mouth doesn’t stop interlocking with yours. his thick fingers tug at the hairs on the back of your neck, causing you to part your lips in surprise. the king of curses takes his chance and explores your warm little mouth. the one that he’s claimed as his the moment you became his concubine.
you tug at his sleeve as a reminder. sukuna grumbles in annoyance, but he knows you’re right; he should let go. his bottom set of eyes dart over to uraume for a second and upon seeing their expressionless yet determined face, he sighs.
all that official business can suck his dick.
sukuna finally detaches his lips from your now wet and swollen ones. you’re breathing hard, trying to catch your breath. you’re flustered to the point you actually bury your face into sukuna’s chiseled chest. you’re sure this’ll be the only talk around the estate for the upcoming week. you’ll become the victim of some more. . . bullying.
the king of curses notices that you don’t let go of him at all. he grins at the sight of you so desperately clinging onto him. he tries to undo the little mess he made of your once neat hair in the meantime.
“what? want me to carry you all the way there, doll?” sukuna raises an eyebrow, teasing you as per usual. you don’t let go of him since you’re still cooling off. you’ve never really kissed outside of the bedroom. it always happens behind closed doors, so this one time took you by surprise.
you shake your head and plop down on your feet again. “no, my apologies, my lord,” you straighten the material of your kimono and don’t even dare to look at the others. uraume would understand, since they’re used to their lord’s antics, but the concubines will cause big trouble once you’re back home.
sukuna nods in acknowledgment. he still got that evil smirk on his face. his thumb brushes the smudged lipstick from the corner of your mouth, cleaning up his mess once again. he’s nice enough to do so today.
“heh.” sukuna lets out an amused chuckle before walking away and ahead of you—the others silently following, as do you. you’re right behind him, on his right side, as he turns his head to yours, “just so y’know, i’m not done with you.”
you know sukuna isn’t. you can easily tell by the way that he didn’t even bother to wipe the lipstick from his own lips. he’s wearing that stain like it’s a medal of sorts. evidence that you’re the only one he’s ever going to show such affection to.
either way; you’re in for one hell of a ride once you’re back from your little business trip.
#sttoru writes.#jjk x reader#sukuna x reader#jjk x you#sukuna x you#jjk x y/n#sukuna x y/n#jjk fluff#sukuna fluff
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☾ .⭒˚ what's mine ♡ zayne x afab reader
⋆.˚ ☾ pairing: zayne x afab!reader (very fem!reader)
☾ .⭒˚ genre: smut, pwp, not canon events (completely fictional)
⋆.˚ ☾ word count: 10.7k
☾ .⭒˚ content warning: mdni, first time sex with zayne (not virginity loss), jealous!zayne, dom!zayne, zayne slightly loses control of evol, furniture breaks, lot’s of teasing, fictional characters, size kink, vaginal sex, oral sex f!receiving, tongue fucking, fingering, unprotected sex, creampies, slightly drunk sex (not really), tummy bulge, posessive/claiming behavior, let me know if i missed anything!
⋆.˚ ☾ a/n: helloooo writing for my fav zayne again <3 would you guys believe this is actually the first lads fic i ever started but i put it on hold because it was way too elaborate and i didn’t want to make a whole like multi chapter fic? i actually cut out a lotttt of it, it probably would’ve been more like 30k words if i kept the same writing style/detail i had originally, and i just could not do that to myself
also the matthew/intern mentioned in the fic is completely made up and fictional, he is not a reference to any characters! i couldn’t bring myself to use greyson for the purposes of the plot bc i think he and zayne are so cute LOL god i love the jealous angsty feelings trope
pls enjoy hehe i luv u guys <3 also come interact with me on twit @/aeyumicore :’)
⋆.˚ ☾ 18+ only ☾ .⭒˚ minors dni ⋆.˚ ☾ 18+ only ☾ .⭒˚ minors dni ⋆.˚ ☾ 18+ only ☾ .⭒˚
“will you go to dinner with me?”
you whip your head around to see where the unfamiliar voice came from, coming face to face with one of the surgical interns of the akso hospital. you’d run into him several times before when visiting zayne at work, but never quite got his name.
“me?”
the intern chuckles at your dumbfoundedness, which he thinks is adorable, “yes, you’re y/n right? my name is matthew. i'm one of the surgical interns here. so, will you let me take you to dinner tomorrow?”
zayne chokes on his rice from the seat beside you, patting his chest a few times to clear his throat. you’d decided to have lunch with zayne after your check-up today; well more like you’d forced him to the cafeteria with you against his will. you’d desperately wanted to try the infamous mint chocolate chip jello the hospital cafeteria served, even though you knew it’d be disgusting. and so you both sat at a table in the cafeteria, you with your jello and zayne with a homemade bento box you’d made for him, along with some of his favorite pastries from the bakery down the street.
at his coughs, the intern’s eyes snapped to zayne’s and it was like he’d just then realized zayne was there, the surprise and anxiety written all over his expression. zayne was always someone who commanded respect and fear from his colleagues and subordinates, so much so that matthew had turned pale as a ghost.
“oh! dr. zayne, i’m so sorry i didn’t realize–” but zayne cuts him off with a simple wave of his hand.
“it’s fine. continue your conversation.” you’re a bit taken back by zayne’s nonchalance. sure, you were just childhood friends but it would be nice if zayne had any reaction at all to being asked out right in front of him. you yourself couldn’t deny the attraction you felt towards zayne but it was seeming more and more that it was completely one sided.
“i, um…” you’re at a loss for words, not knowing how to let the handsome intern down. matthew was honestly very attractive, and seemed kind enough, but you had hoped to spend your friday night with zayne, though you hadn’t had the chance to ask him yet. he’d been swamped with surgeries and patients the last few days and you hardly got to see him at all. and you missed him thoroughly.
“i actually had plans with zay– i mean dr. zayne,” you glance at zayne, hoping he’ll get the message, but the expression on his face is dark and unreadable.
“no we don’t. you should go,” zayne’s tone is cold and his eyes refuse to meet yours. despite yourself, your heart clenches in disappointment. you know zayne could be obtuse but he was also extremely intelligent and perceptive. he undoubtedly knew you wanted to spend your night with him. but it was becoming more and more apparent he did not want to spend his with you.
“but i–”
“i have plans anyways.” your eyes can’t help but sting as he avoids looking at you. so you try to steel yourself; you were a big girl and a little bit of unrequited affection would not destroy you. keeping your voice steady and blinking back unshed tears of frustration, you look up at matthew, his eyes lighting up at you expectantly, and you try to give him your best smile.
“i…i would love to go to dinner with you!”
you don’t notice the deep scowl on zayne’s face as a dark icy storm brews in his green eyes.
–
you stumbled out of the taxi, your way-too-high heels catching on the foot step almost causing you to trip headfirst into the pavement. you sigh as you catch yourself on the cab door and glance at your hunter watch and see that it’s already 1am.
“get home safe miss, and no more drinks, you hear me?” your cab driver reprimands you teasingly.
“yes sir,” you mock salute him as you wobble onto your feet, thoroughly drunk, “thank you so much! please drive safe. good night sir!”
“good night miss!”
you turn towards your apartment building, sighing in exhausted defeat. what an absolute disaster of a night.
the date was unexpectedly wonderful. matthew was handsome, kind, funny, and a complete gentleman. he brought you to a very fancy and expensive restaurant downtown, so you wore one of your most elegant dresses, not that you had many. it was a simple satin black mid-length evening dress, with a slit that exposed just up to your mid thigh and an open back that accentuates your figure. you’d normally never wear something so sensual on a first date, but you couldn’t deny that the way zayne had reacted, or not reacted, stung your heart. so maybe you did go a little extra tonight because you were hurt. so what?
after dinner, matthew and you took a leisurely stroll at linkon park, with enough time to catch the sunset. as you watched the sun melt into the sea of golden yellows and dusky pinks, matthew kissed you. it was passionate, slow, and soft. the perfect kiss.
except when you moaned out zayne’s name.
and so the night ended as quickly as it began. matthew was as understanding as he possibly could have been, but you could tell it killed anything that could have happened between the two of you. matthew was a surgical intern, so with what little free time he had, he said he couldn’t chance it on a girl who was clearly already in love with someone else, especially if that someone was his boss and mentor. he’d offered to give you a ride back home but you refused, saying you’d grab a cab instead.
so you found yourself at a bar, downing shots of soju to numb the mortification of your blunder but also the feeling of utter patheticness. hours went by as you wallowed in your emotions. you’d had feelings for zayne for as long as you could even remember. and still, you couldn’t tell him or move on from him.
but maybe you would have the guts to tell him if it didn’t feel like he literally could not give two cents about you, beyond as a patient and as his annoying childhood friend. it was literally like pulling teeth to get him to spend any time at all with you lately.
so here you were, stumbling into your apartment building at 1:37 am: drunk, exhausted, and empty. the night breeze raised goosebumps on your exposed thighs as your heels clicked on the pavement in the dark.
you headed toward your apartment, through the main entrance and up the lobby elevator, the alcohol still making your brain swim. luckily you no longer saw double, and your eyelids no longer felt like a ton of bricks.
the elevator door dinged open and you trudged toward your unit, your toes screaming in protest in the confine of your heels. you forced your vision to cooperate with you as you tried to punch in your door code. the error buzz sounded out, again and again, and you groaned in frustration.
in the blurry edges of your vision, a large and slightly scarred hand reached over yours. yelping, you whip yourself around and reach to grab the gun you always had strapped to your thigh. but from the icy cold touch against your fingers and the scars littering the pink skin, you realize exactly who it was.
“zayne?” you did your best not to slur, trapped between him and your front door. you don’t miss how he swears under his breath as his eyes trail down your body, lingering at all your exposed skin, before snapping back up to your face. you can’t even imagine how wrecked you must look right now, mentally kicking yourself for not touching up after the bar. your gloss was undoubtedly smeared from the kiss and the copious alcohol, your hair a bird’s nest from the night breeze, and your mascara smeared from the stray tears of your drunken emotions.
you didn’t do a very good job at steeling your voice because zayne saw right through you, his eyes narrowing as they absolutely drank you in, “you’re drunk?” his voice holds a dangerous edge, as if mad that you’d have the audacity to be drunk. he deftly types your access code in, and gently ushers you into your apartment. you stumble in your heels against his body, and zayne wraps his arm around your waist to catch you before you fall. you flush at the way his hands palm the exposed skin of your lower back.
“m’not drunk,” you protest, swatting his hand away, not wanting your body to give any of your feelings towards him away, but zayne only grips you tighter, fingers flitting between the soft satin material of your dress and the goosebump ridden skin of your back. his arm on your waist feels so right, threatening to make you melt right into his embrace. but you fight the urge, trying to hold onto your annoyance.
you can’t see his eyes but you know they’re rolling in their sockets at your obvious drunkeness. he gently guides you through the threshold of your home and then kneels down before you. the sight of him on the floor in front of your feet makes you reel, hoping the furious blush is masked by the flush of alcohol in your blood.
“w-what are you doing?” you try to step back, but your knees wobble and zayne grips your thigh in place. you shiver at his cold touch on your sensitive skin, a little too high for you to keep any semblance of calm.
“do you want to stay in these deathtraps?” he murmurs as he starts to slip the strappy heels off of your aching feet. his fingers around your ankle tingle as he softly massages the red skin of where the straps dug in.
“zayne? why are you here? did something happen?” your voice wavers still, but zayne’s cold touch is starting to sober you up and clear your vision as your mind tries its best to focus on him. zayne doesn’t respond as he lifts your other foot and slips the other heel off. his fingers linger on your bare legs before he slips your house slippers on your feet, standing back up to tower over you.
“it’s almost 2 in the morning, and you’re just now coming home,” his voice is hard and stern, it’s clear he has things he wants to say but you’re in no mood for a lecture on sexual safety, stds, and stranger danger.
“i was busy,” you snap, your emotions running extra high from everything that had happened today, especially zayne’s nonchalance. but he’s incredibly patient with you, as he always is, taking you by the waist nagain and leading you to your living room couch. you’re too tired to resist, and you desperately need to get off your aching feet.
“how was your date?” zayne sits you on your couch and then heads to the kitchen, coming back with a glass of water. his question reminds you of how royally you screwed up today and your mood sours even more.
“fine,” you mutter, trying to keep from snapping at him again. zayne sits beside you and brings the glass of water to your lips, tilting it for you with his fingers on your jaw. you take deep gulps, the cold water soothing your entire sore body. sinking further into the couch, your mind wanders back to your disastrous screw up. you’d called matthew zayne. it literally couldn’t get more mortifying than that.
zayne stares at you and you know he doesn’t believe you, so you murmur again, “it was fine.” but as his intense eyes bore holes into you, your voice cracks under all the feelings you’d stuffed deep down today.
he was here now and it confused you to no end. you’d wanted nothing more than to spend your day with him, but he’d pushed you away. were you really that blind that you’d developed feelings for a man who did not feel even slightly the same way?
your eyes well up with tears at the thought and you try to subtly brush them away by pretending to scratch your cheek, but as always zayne sees right through you.
“did he do something to you? did he get you drunk?” zayne’s voice is calm but hard and threatening.enough to scare you if it weren't for the way he softly gripped your chin, forcing your eyes back to his, using his free thumb to catch the tears before they can slip down your cheek
but through it all, you register the implication of his words. “wh-what? no!” you exclaim, “matthew was a complete gentleman.”
his eyes track yours, unwilling to let go of your gaze, “then why are you crying?”
you blink back your tears before more can fall onto his thumb. your voice wavers as you stare into the hazel green ocean of his eyes, and you answer his question with a question of your own, “why are you here zayne?”
“i wanted to make sure you got home safe.” your chest constricts with unrelenting emotions, but your drunken haze makes you even more steadfast in your stubborn resolve.
“well i’m home, safe,” you avert your eyes, knowing if zayne keeps staring at you with that intensity you’ll start to unravel and confess everything.
“why did you take a cab home?”
your eyes snap to his, “how did you know i took a cab?” and this time zayne’s eyes refuse to meet yours, “zayne? how long have you been waiting for me?”
zayne doesn’t respond, instead brushing the tangles out of your hair. you try to get his attention by tugging at his tie, the alcohol making you feel much bolder than you normally ever would.
you can see his adam's apple bob as he lets himself be drawn in, only slightly, towards you. at your pout, he sighs in defeat, prying your hands away so he can loosen the tightened hold around his neck, “i’ve been waiting for you…forever.”
before you can respond, he clears his throat and continues, “i got here at 9 and waited in my car when i knocked and you didn't answer.”
at your bewildered expression, he sighs and elaborates, “i just wanted to see you get back home safely. but when i saw you get out of that cab i needed to come check on you.”
your brows furrowed as your sobering self tried to do the math in your head. zayne can practically see the steam coming out of your ears and smiles lopsidedly, chuckling under his breath at how adorable you were being.
“you waited for 7 hours?!” you exclaimed, eyes wide.
his grin deepens and you can see his eyes sparkling with laughter , “you are drunk. why are you drunk?”
you purse your lips shut, unwilling to speak. with all the overwhelming emotions swarming your mind, you knew if you started talking now you would surely never stop.
at your silence, zayne prods gently, “talk to me, y/n.” his voice is deep and commanding in a way that almost always gets you to listen to him.
you zip your lips shut and turn away, doing your damn best to not give in. but zayne’s touch, still on your cheeks, forces you back towards his eyes.
“be a good girl,” he demands softly, his eyes searching yours for answers.
blowing out your cheeks like a child, you’re unwilling to give up the attitude, “i’m drunk because i was drinking.”
“did matthew take advantage of you?” zayne’s jaw is locked and the intensity in his eyes is blinding, damn near dangerous.
“no! zayne, no. i went to a bar to drink alone, after our date,” you try to hide the embarrassment from seeping into your voice.
“why? did he do something to you?” his voice is still threatening, and you sigh at the unrelenting questions. you knew zayne well enough to know he wasn’t going to let up, so it would just be easier on you if you told him everything that happened.
“matthew was amazing,” you don’t notice the way zayne’s eyes darken at your praises for the intern, “the date was fantastic. and after, we saw the sunset.” his expression is still unreadable and you start to fidget under his intense gaze, not knowing in the slightest what he was thinking.
“and then he kissed me. we kissed. and that was it. i went to the bar and he went home. end of story.”
zayne’s fists ball so tightly his knuckles turn white, but he keeps his gaze steady. he doesn’t speak, and you’re scared of the tense silence that falls between you two.
“he couldn’t at least accompany you? make sure you were safe?” you can tell zayne is angry by the way his feet taps uncharacteristically erratically against the floor, “driven you home?”
his questions make it impossible for you to forget about your horrifying mistake today and you just feel so incredibly bad for matthew. the regret and embarrassment gnaw at your mind like parasites. and so against your better, albeit slightly still drunken, judgment, you finally blow.
“he left because i was thinking of you, okay? matthew was a gentleman, he was funny, kind, and charming. and yet i was thinking of you the whole time. and so he left and i went to a bar and got drunk all on my own, okay?”
“you were thinking of me?” zayne’s voice is an annoying mix of bewilderment, intrigue, and what sounds like mockery, which just infuriates you.
“i am always thinking of you zayne! i thought about you at dinner, i thought about you when we watched the sunset, and i thought about you when he kissed me,” you burst, your drunken lack of inhibitions leaving nothing unsaid.
zayne’s face is unreadable again, but there’s a heat in his eyes that makes you tremble in your seat, “you were thinking of me when he kissed you?”
unable to bear his unrelenting repetitive questions anymore, you explode, “yes zayne! and when he kissed me i called out for you!” the confession tumbles out of your mouth before you can even think twice about it. it takes you a second to realize what you’d just blurted out and you bury your face in your hands, wanting nothing more than to scream at the top of your lungs. unfortunately it was 2am and you had neighbors that most definitely would not appreciate that.
you feel his strong hands grab your wrists gently, prying your hands away from your face, wanting to see you, “you called for me?” his tone is as amused as it is intrigued and it frustrates you to no end, the shame weighing heavily on your mind.
“don’t tease me right now zayne,“ you warn weakly, “i am always thinking about you. but you…” your voice trails off to a shallow whisper, “you don’t seem to think about me.”
zayne is silent but his eyes are as intense as you’ve ever seen them, staring into your soul. the silence is thick in the air as you refuse to be the one to break it.
finally, he speaks, voice clouded with indiscernible emotions, “is that what you really think? that i don’t think about you?”
“do you really think i waited for 5 hours, in my car, for you to come back because i don’t think about you?” your breath catches in your throat at the pure and raw growl in his voice.
before you can respond, he continues, “i think about you every second of every day. i thought about you all day, thought about you on your date with matthew.”
zayne shifts so that he can cup your face with both his hands, drawing his face closer but not close enough, “i thought about him getting to hear your voice, getting to touch you…to kiss you. it drove me insane.”
your feelings churn in your stomach and into your chest, making it hard to breathe. the way zayne is looking at you, his hands holding your face so possessively, threatens to stop your heart altogether. you’re drawn to him all over again, only this time it feels like he might be drawn to you too.
“w-why?”
zayne doesn’t speak, and you watch as his eyes flutter to your parted lips as you pant out your breaths, eyes fighting to stay open amidst all the tension enveloping the two of you.
“why did you push me to go with him then?”
his eyes force themselves onto yours, as if unwilling to leave your lips, “i made a mistake.”
his revelations quickly sober you up, and you’re left feeling vulnerable but bold. you softly grab a fist full of his tie, pulling him closer. you can faintly hear him groan under his breath, but he lets himself be guided towards you. your lips are so close to each other that you’re inhaling each other in, and you beg gently, “kiss me, zayne.”
zayne wastes no time at all, threading his fingers from your cheek into your hair, pulling your face the remainder of the distance to his own.
your first kiss with zayne is nothing like you’d daydreamed it would be. you’d imagined the patient and reserved surgeon to be soft, gentle, taking his time with you. you’d expected it to be passionate but reserved, like the handsome raven haired man himself.
and while the passion was undeniably there, what you didn’t expect was the bruising claiming heat that came with it. zayne’s soft lips marked you as his own, a lifetime’s worth of emotions evident in the way he molded himself against you. with every twitch of his lips, zayne laid claim to what was his. he kissed you like you might disappear at any moment, as if this was all a dream.
and when his tongue swiped across the parting of your lips, asking for permission to enter, you gladly relented control and authority. after all, you were his. you think you had been for some time.
you hadn’t expected your first kiss with zayne to be like this, and yet it was everything you wanted and more.
when you shift yourself to climb on top of him and straddle him on your couch, zayne reluctantly pulls away, hands still gripping the back of your head, “y/n, we should stop.” but he can’t stop his hands from leaving your soft hair and resting on your hips, almost like a reflex. his words say one thing but his hands just can't seem to pry themselves off of you.
you’re taken aback by his words, unable to stop the insecurity and hurt that paints your face. zayne notices instantly, one of his hands leaving your hips to stroke your cheek, hooking some of your hair behind your ear. you lean into his hand, the whiplash starting to exhaust you as much as it kept you on your toes.
“i want to,” he whispers hoarsely as you squirm on top of him, answering your unsaid thoughts, “i can’t even convey how much i’ve fucking wanted to. but you’re drunk. and the first time i finally take you…i want you to feel every second of it.”
your eyes flutter at his words, stomach clenching in anticipation. having fully sobered up a while ago, before he even kissed you, you can’t help but beg a little, “i’m not drunk anymore. and even if i was… i want you. i’ve wanted you…forever.”
zayne swears, his eyes going full doctor mode, and you can tell he’s inspecting every inch of you to try and discern if you’re truly sober or not. you fidget nervously under his intense stare, to which his hands grip your waist painfully tight to keep you in place.
“stop,” he grits out forcefully, as if in pain. you do your best to still in his lap, and that’s when you feel the unmistakable bulge of his erection underneath your parted dress that had ridden up to bunch at your hips, right against the pantyhose against your cunt.
“are you sure this is what you want?” he groans as your body presses deeper into his lap, “because once…we start i won’t be able to stop.”
his words send a shiver down your spine, the heated warning doing nothing but arousing you to your core. through your hooded eyes, you nod eagerly at him, “m’sure zayne. won’t want to stop.”
he smirks at you, a heart stopping smile that melts your brain and cunt simultaneously into a leaking mess, “you asked for it love.”
before you can even have the chance to physically combust at the affectionate pet name, zayne whisks you into the air, scooping you under your exposed knees effortlessly. you yelp, clutching onto his neck as he carries you like a bride into your bedroom, navigating your apartment like he owned it. he bent down to capture your lips with his again, like he couldn’t physically wait to get you to your bed before claiming you again.
you feel the cold press of your sheets against your spine as zayne sets you down gently, and settles in between your thighs on top of you. his eyes absolutely devour you whole, raking up and down your exposed satin clad skin, “you look beautiful. i’ve been wanting to tell you all night.” his praise is throaty with desire and it makes you squeeze your thighs together against his body in anticipation. your face heats at his words, and you run your palms up and down his abdomen, the material of his dress shirt feeling like silk against your burning skin.
zayne grins and chuckles, mostly to himself, but the sound catches your attention and you find yourself pouting in self-consciousness, “what’s funny?”
zayne’s long fingers trace the outlines of your body under the satin dress, eliciting soft moans from you that please him to his core, “you just look so beautiful.” his fingers reach the bottom of your dress and begin to stroke the fabric of your pantyhose, inching up under your dress, so torturously slowly, “you wore this for him, yet i’m the one that’s going to tear it off you.”
your body trembles at his words, the pool between your legs growing wetter. you can feel yourself growing impatient, only wanting his body to press onto yours, to suffocate your.
“zayne please, don’t make me wait any more,” you murmur as you sit up on your elbows, pressing your forehead against his. you heartbeat is quick and your rapid breaths fan across his face.
his eyes darken at your pleas, the hazel hues appearing almost a light brown, “fucking hell y/n, you’re going to drive me insane.” he sits up on his knees, loosening his tie before undoing it completely and discarding it on the floor next to your bed. you bite your lip as you watch him undo the top three buttons of his shirt, his toned chest on display under it.
leaning back down, he presses a bruising kiss against your swollen lips. his hands wander to the thin straps of your dress, gently tugging until they slip off your shoulders, letting him tug your dress down until your breasts are exposed. his tongue against yours is unrelenting, marking every inch of your mouth as his.
detaching himself from you, he buries his face into your neck, his cold lips incredibly soothing against your lust burned skin. you cry out when you feel his teeth softly sink into the skin of your pulsepoint, as he suckles on you like you’re the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted.
“zayne,” you gasp out, his tongue and teeth working in tandem to have your mind filled with nothing but his mouth on you, “please.”
he trails down your neck and collar, inhaling you into his lungs at every opportunity. you feel his smile against your skin as he reaches your breasts, your nipples pebbled from the lust. he voice is muffled against you, “please what, my love?”
“i…” you’re too mortified to say the things you want him to do, so the silence overtakes you. unhappy with your hesitation, zayne bites into the supple flesh above your pert nipple, eliciting a string of moans and squeals from you. he’s instantly using his tongue to soothe the pain away, quickly replacing it with waves of raw pleasure.
zayne lifts his head, staring at you expectantly, “i can’t continue if you don’t tell me what you want.”
his unrelenting teasing drives you to the edge of madness, your arousal evident by the way it leaks through your panties and your pantyhose. but you’re stubborn, still refusing to speak.
“good girls listen to their doctors don’t they?” he places fleeting kisses onto your goosebump riddled areolas, careful to purposefully neglect your increasingly sensitive nipples.
“should doctors really be this intimate with their patients?” you retort like a brat, wanting to dish back all of his incessant teasing.
he smiles at you, thoroughly amused at your insolence, “i suppose not, but am i really just your doctor?” with that he captures your waiting nipples into his mouth. you cry out at the incredible feeling of his cold lips on your breasts but his warm tongue on your nipple, your lower body thrusting up uncontrollably into his crotch.
he groans into your chest as you brush against his throbbing erection, restricted by the confines of his pants. against the heat of your womanhood, zayne hardens impossibly further, feeling like he might actually explode against the constraint. the sounds of your pleasure and your cries for him make it difficult for him to concentrate.
switching to your other nipple, zayne uses one hand to undo his belt, letting it fall to the ground with his tie. he undoes the button and zipper his pants, yanking them down with such feral urgency. when his cock was finally free, he broke away from your chest, hissing in relief. you look down and you’re met with the realization of why he was in so much pain.
zayne was large. in a way that terrified you to your very core. you could imagine that the restraint of his briefs alone would be uncomfortable, painful even, when holding something like that back.
zayne catches your stare and he grips your chin between his fingers, guiding you to his eyes instead, “it’ll fit baby, don’t worry.”
you fight to keep your lip from quivering, trying not to get lost in his green eyes, “will it?”
“i’ll make it fit, but first let me prepare you love,” he says matter-of-factly, pressing a kiss to the bridge of your nose. the certainty in his voice turns you unbelievably on and you find yourself needing to please him. your hand seeks out his erection, grasping it firmly into your fingers.
he groans at the slightest touch, knees buckling into the bed beneath you. you start with languid and deliberate strokes, feeling every vein pulse under your fingers. your thumb finds his large engorged head, already leaking with pre cum, feeling every smooth surface of his cock under your touch. while zayne writhes on top of you, you revel in his glorious manhood, everything about it utterly perfect and terrifying.
as you touch him, zayne leans into the crook of your shoulder, laying claim to your sensitive neck. he marks every inch of bare skin he can find, leaving a trail of red and wet bruises in his wake.
your entire palm is wet with his leaking arousal, as he moans so closely into your ear. gently, he pries your palm away from him, sitting back up onto his knees, smirking satisfyingly down at the marks he’d left, “god, i’ve waited so long to have you.”
you reach down to shimmy out of your pantyhose and black evening dress, leaving you in your black lace thong, naked, willing, and pliant before him. you see him gulp harshly, his eyes hazy with need, and you sit up to level with him, “so take me zayne.”
a low growl rips from his throat, as he pushes you back onto the bed, setting your head against your wooden headboard. zayne tortures you, kissing down your collar, your chest, your naval, and finally down the soft mound of your pelvis.
zayne seems almost feral as he looks at your lace covered cunt and back up at you, “did you really wear this for him?”
“n-no,” you whine, “i wouldn't have ever l-let him. he wasn't you.”
zayne seems somewhat placated by your response, hooking his cold fingers into the waistband, his voice a low grumble, “that’s my good girl. no one will ever see you in or out of these, but me. right?”
your brain fogs over as he slips your soaked panties down your legs, his breath hitching seeing the string of clear slick clinging to your cunt.
“fuck.” he’s lost in his stares, in absolute awe of the meal before him, carving every single perfect centimeter into his memory. you squirm under his intense stare.
“zayne please don’t make me wait anymore,” you wine, crying out as he bends down and his lips graze the apex of your slit.
his voice is incredibly smug, “you are so beautiful when you beg for me.” you sigh in frustration as his lips and fingers continue to just barely graze your needy body.
“zayne, please,” your body thrusts into his, but he holds you back down, almost impatiently.
“behave yourself, y/n. you can do that for me, can’t you?” his voice is full of command, making you back down instantly, shivering at the suspense of his words.
“i didn't wait this long to have you just to rush all the things i want to do to you,” he all but purrs, as his lips find your soaking slit.
the room is filled with your lewd cries as zayne’s tongue licks a stripe from your clit to your throbbing hole. as your doctor, zayne knew the ins and outs of your body but you never expected him to know you like this. like his tongue was designed for nothing else but to deliver you the most unimaginable pleasure in this world.
zayne groans when his tongue enters you for the first time, the quivers resonating straight to your core. his nose brushes against your clit as he fucks you with his tongue, the vibrations of his own lust filled grunts bringing you closer to releasing all over his skilled mouth.
your thighs clench against his face, and you almost worry you might suffocate him. you try to pry them away from him, but he only grips them with his strong hands, bringing them closer to his face, wanting nothing more than to be yours, wholly and irrevocably.
“you taste better than i ever imagined,” he moans out, staring into your eyes from between your legs. you blush at the filth of his words and the glistening slick smeared across his lips and chin.
“did you – ahh hah – think about me often?” you tease between the sounds that spill out of your mouth uncontrollably.
he doesn’t answer, instead capturing your entire clit into his lips, sucking in earnest. you feel his smirk as you squeal out, hands digging into the fabric of your sheets and tugging hard. his hands knead your ass as he continues to eat, positively starved.
“z-zayne i-i can’t take much more,” you slur, your toes curling against his sides as he goes back to spearing his tongue in and out of you, using the tip of his nose to massage your clit, inhaling the smell of your arousal into his lungs.
“yeah? is my girl gonna make a mess for me?” he breathes into you, his hands reaching up to toy with your nipples. you cry in response, feeling the coil in your gut tightening beyond belief, the pleasure threatening to make you explode.
“cum into my mouth love, let me taste you,” he whispers breathlessly into your cunt, slipping his middle finger inside of you, the wet sounds of his skin pounding into yours filling the room. you come done instantly, screaming as your back arches off the bed and you release all over zayne’s waiting mouth, hands ripping at his soft hair.
“that’s it baby, look at you cumming from just one finger,” he muses, working you through your orgasm with just his middle finger. you let out a stream of broken moans, unable to form any words.
“fuck you’re this tight around just one of my fingers?” he murmurs before dipping back down to devour everything you give him.
he laps up your spend eagerly and diligently, not letting a single drop go to waste. refusing to relent against your twitching clit, zayne devours you until the overstimulation lights your pussy on fire. he’s always had a sweet tooth and it looks like he’s found his absolute favorite dessert, unwilling to give it up any time soon.
“such a messy girl,” he mumbles to himself, the clear strings of arousal sticking from your wet thighs to his chin.
your thighs tremble at the discomfort of overstimulation, doing your best to back away from him, “mmm zayne, s’too sensitive. no more, please.”
he relents reluctantly, looking utterly displeased with having his treat taken away. as he sits up, he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and leans forward into you, tapping your lips with his thumb.
“open,” he commands forcefully, bringing his soaked middle finger up to you. you part your lips obediently, welcoming the taste of you on his skin. his eyes squeeze shut and he lets out a deep heated moan at the feel of your tongue on him, tasting everything he got to taste. his cock literally felt like a ton of bricks needing to be pleased.
releasing his finger, you reach for his length again, “i-i want to make you feel good too.”
zayne presses his cold lips to yours, simultaneously undoing the buttons of his shirt. he pulls aways to shrug the clothing off his broad shoulders, giving you an eyeful of his glorious physique. he shivers, letting you jerk his erection up and down, but pushing you down when you try to get on your knees before him.
“next time. we have all the time in the world,” he whispers, pushing you against the headboard, holding your cheek in his large hand, “but right now i need to be inside you.”
the smoldering fire in his eyes makes your mouth dry, and you nod meekly. the promise of a ‘next time’ is enough to have you ready for him again. your cunt still quivered, recovering from your previous orgasm, but pooling at the hoarse need in his tone.
as your head lays on a pillow against the headboard of your bed, zayne lifts you from the small of your back and shoves another pillow behind you, so that you’re elevated towards him, served on a silver platter.
“spread your legs for me,” he growls, the urgency in his voice leaving little room to protest. and so you obey, widening your legs for him, watching as he admires the area between your thighs like it was
his hand reaches to cup you, clit caught against his palm and fingers toying with your hole, “who does this belong to?”
but you can’t hear him through the searing pleasure of his touch against your over sensitive body, the blood pounding in your ears like drums. looking at where his hand meets your body, you cry out at his ministrations against you, your thighs trembling in shivers.
with his free hand zayne grabs your chin, slipping his thumb into your mouth, harshly forcing your eyes to his, “don’t look away. be a good girl and answer me.”
although his words are driven with lust, they remind you of the emotional turmoil you’d been weathering because of your feelings for the man in front of you.
“m’yours zayne, always been yours,” tears well in your eyes and you hope he can understand the weight behind your words, behind all the lust and arousal filled craze.
zayne stares back at you, and his eyes hold an entire galaxy of emotions that match the colors of his irises: desire, devotion, awe…and love.
“and i am yours,” his words strike your heart and you lean up to slot your mouth against his. as he kisses you, he lines up his thick length with your cunt, teasing your clit with his engorged tip, his pre cum mixing with your spend that still leaked out from your prior climax. you cried into his open mouth at his teases, your back arching off the pillow and further into his cock. at your movement, his head catches onto your throbbing and waiting hole, eliciting a deep grunt from him.
he pulls away, groaning, “so impatient, you want it that bad?” you whimper, burying your face into his neck and latching onto his pulse point to save yourself from having to answer.
“p-please…” you whisper into his ear. he groans, fishing through the pocket of his pants as he pulls them off of his legs.
“please what, love?” he smirks at you, pulling his wallet out, now just in his briefs pulled down to let his massive erection free.
you gulp, staring at the way he stands so proudly against his naval, reaching comfortably to his belly button. his girth rivals that of at least three of your fingers.
the rustling of plastic snaps you out of your shameless ogling. zayne places a condom packet between his teeth, tearing it with one hand. you gulp at the sight of him, but you protest, “i–i um,” you clear your throat, trying to work up the courage to vocalize what you want, “you don’t have to use that.”
zayne’s dark eyes catch yours, and the edge in his voice is dangerous, a warning, “don’t tempt me. i need to protect you.”
your face burns as you try again., “w-what i mean is, well as my doctor you know i’m clean.” you do your best to stop your voice from wavering, “and i-i um i’m on the pill.”
zayne’s eyebrows quirk as his irises darken with heat, “how come i didn't know that?
“i’ve been using an online service for a few months,” you say sheepishly, “s-so you don’t have to use that.”
zayne catches on, a satisfied smirk gracing his features, “is that so?” he teases his entire length on your slit, practically fucking you along the lips of your womanhood. using his swollen tip, he taps your clit forcefully, eliciting a throaty yelp from you.
“tell me what you want.” you shiver at the pure feral domineer in his voice.
“p-please zayne, i want it. i need it.”
“what do you need baby?”
you groan in frustration, but give into his demands, “i-i need you zayne, need you inside. need it so bad.” the way you can see his breath hitch in his throat fills you with confidence, so you lean closer until your bottom lip brushes against his, “need to feel you inside, please zayne.”
his jaw locks as he grits out forcefully, “i will give you everything.”
zayne holds his cock with one hand, lining it up with your entrance. his other hand grips the wooden beams of your bed frame, “can you take it y/n?”
if you’re being completely honest, you’re not sure you can. though you weren’t a virgin, you had never even seen a man so large, let alone attempted. but at zayne’s expectant expression, you nod eagerly, “y-yes i can, i-i can try.”
“good girl,” he mutters, before sinking himself into you. the stretch is so much worse than you imagined it would be, practically splitting you in half. you squealed, clawing at his biceps as he did his best to enter you. feeling so incredibly stuffed, you look down only to see he’s barely just gotten his tip inside.
the vein in zayne’s forehead throbs as his jaw slackens, a string of swears leaving his lips, “jesus you’re like a vice down there. i need you to loosen up love, or else i’ll never be able to get inside.”
you pant against him, not knowing what to do but to watch the way he stares intently at your tummy. the heat and desire in his expression arouses you beyond belief, and you unconsciously squeeze your velvet walls in excitement.
zayne’s knuckles turn white as he grips the headboard for support, the veins in his forearms bulging as he groans out, “fuck baby please. are you trying to squeeze it off?”
“sorry, m’sorry. s’too big,” you wail, hands gripping his shoulders for support. the stretch is nothing like you’ve ever felt, and you don’t know if you can take much more than what’s already inside you. “z-zayne it’s too big i c-can’t,” you pant, doing your best to relax and loosen up your muscles.
“you can, you’re doing so good for me y/n,” zayne huffs out, pushing deeper into you, the slick from your forming arousal and his pre cum starting to make the stretch easier. the drag of his cock against your gummy walls starts to feel so torturously delicious, like your body was made to take him in.
finally, he eases into you, eyes unable to look away from where your bodies connected.
“if you could see how – hah – beautiful you look like this, spread out for me,” he grunts, being as gentle as he can manage, when all he wanted was to ram into your warm and tight cunt, squeezing him so tightly.
“been waiting for the day i could – shit – finally be inside you. drove me fucking insane thinking about you and matthew.”
his words are enough to have you leaking all over your joined bodies, the slick dampening his pelvis and your thighs. as he seats himself in you as deeply as he can, his tip brushing against your womb, he lets out a shaky breath of ecstasy.
“is this what you – hah – thought about? when you were with another man?” his words are claiming, making butterflies explode in your gut and your cunt to flutter around him. you can only moan and drool as his body thuds into yours, over and over.
“sweetest little princess cunt i’ve ever felt,” he swears, languidly withdrawing from you before pushing back in, knocking the breath out of you. with your head leaning against the back of your bed frame you can see every second of his glistening length burrowing in and out of you, like it absolutely owned you.
“z-zayne,” you moan, nails digging into his shoulders, “please.” you don’t know exactly what you’re begging for, but you can’t stop the words from coming.
“hah, if you want something you have to – fuck – ask for it love,” he pants, doing his best not to get lost in the pure pleasure of finally getting to be inside you.
his words send you reeling, the ecstasy increasing with each deliberate and hard drag. you fight through the fucked out haze, vision blurred from your hooded lids, “hah - harder please.”
at your request zayne stutters for a brief second, your cunt squeezing so tight he could barely move, “anything for you.”
with his hand clutching the frame, he uses his other hand to rub harsh circles onto your swollen clit. his pelvis smacks against your thighs and ass so hard that the bed posts knock into the wall repeatedly, the skin slapping sounds mixing with the sounds of the wood against the plaster.
at the added stimulation your eyes roll into your brain, your eyelids weighing down heavily. zayne leans in until his chest presses against your breasts, your breaths heaving in tandem. his eyes follow yours, forcing you to hold eye contact with every deep thrust into your soul. against your will, your eyelids flutter as the pleasure starts to overcome your fighting consciousness.
you can vaguely make out zayne’s smirk, as his hand leaves the frame to cup your chin in his palm, “don’t tell me you’re already worn out, love.” his fingers flick against your clit.
you yelp out, nails digging into his back with one hand while the other hand smacks his shoulder gently. you pout, “you’re so mean to me.”
he leans down to kiss your shoulder, his pace never faltering. he chuckles against your skin, “but you can take it, right? you always take me so well.” the double meaning of his words makes you clench in excitement, the praise making your chest tighten.
he groans as you clench down onto him, threatening to make him blow, “hah so fucking tight. you like that huh baby? you like it when i praise you?” he thumbs your clit with more intensity, wanting to see you come absolutely undone for him.
you bite your lip to keep from screaming, nodding eagerly in response to his words. zayne’s thrusts only grow in intensity, as if he’s trying to reach your esophagus from your cunt. you’re a mess of uncontrollable moans and mewls, unable to stop your eyes from rolling back and your tongue from hanging out as he fucked you into oblivion.
“look at you,” he grins arrogantly, voice husky with desire and raw possessiveness, “going on a date with my intern just to end up with my cock stuffed in you.”
you whine at his words, simultaneously not wanting to think about matthew but also being so turned on by the dominating undertone of his words. his fingers abandon your clit, much to your disappointment, to trace the bulge his cock makes in your tummy. his other hand pulls your chin down so you can watch him.
“look how deep i am, love,” he grunts. you watch in awe as the small bump in your stomach bulges and disappears with the rhythm of zayne’s thrusts. with every withdrawal, zayne’s impressive cock glistens with slick, the throbbing veins bulging enough to make you drool. absolutely entranced, you fit your hand under his to stroke at his cock as it pushed through your tummy.
zayne swears as you caress his cock through the bump in your tummy, throwing his head back to catch his breath. his hand goes back to paw at your clit, trying to stop himself from blowing his load into you right there.
as the climax builds in your gut, you throb around his impossibly hardened length spearing in and out of you, to which he twitches inside of you. the sounds of your combined whimpers and grunts, the lewd smacks of his damp slick dampened skin against yours, and the bed slamming against the wall overwhelm your brain until you can only think about zayne, his cock inside you, and the overwhelming pleasure he’s giving you.
“zayne, i-i’m close,” you cry, hand abandoning your stomach to loop around his neck, digging your nails into his damp skin.
“fuck – i know love, i can feel you trying to squeeze it out of me,” he grunts, body slamming into yours so hard that your body smacks against the headboard.
“i’m gonna – gonna cum,” you cry, nails digging into the taut muscles of his back.
“no,” he demands, and you do your best not to gape at him. he gasps through his next strokes, “be a good girl and wait for me. i want to feel you finish all over me when i cum inside you.”
“o-okay,” you say, but you’re honestly unsure if you’ll be able to wait, the waves of pleasure crashing into you so roughly it threatens to overtake you right then and there.
“that’s my girl,” gripping your chin, zayne leans in to kiss you again, his tongue claiming your warm and waiting mouth. your eyes squeeze shut and your body tenses as you try to quell the raging tides of the impending climax, moaning endlessly into zayne’s mouth.
you pull away to breathe, your lungs needing as much oxygen as possible to withstand the ecstasy. zayne’s hand grips the wooden beams above your bed again, his knuckles turning white as he watches the pleasure contort your beautiful face.
“i-i can’t – ”
“you can, baby. i’m – hah – almost there, just hold on a little longer for me,” he grunts. the pleasure and pain of his edging threatens to knock you unconscious, but you nod and throw your head back as your eyes roll backwards again.
through your fucked out haze you can vaguely see a strange icy sheen forming on the wooden beams of your bed’s headboard. you follow the path of luminous crystals and realize they’re forming from zayne’s hand that grips against the frame so tightly his knuckles are pale and taut, as he comes closer to exploding inside you.
unable to shake yourself out of the pleasure, you can’t find the words to warn zayne. you continue to watch in awe as the beautiful iridescent flakes frost over the dull old wood. his palm is covered in a layer of snow white frost, the tiny snowflakes dancing around his skin as it grips the furniture so forcefully. you realize he’s losing control of his evol, because of you. and the idea of that threatens to push you head first into your second orgasm of the night.
it happened so fast. as zayne bullies himself in and out of you, thrusting as if his life depended on it, the wooden beams of your headboard cracks in his hand, the wood turning brittle against his icy evol, and shattering under the force of his bruising grip.
zayne shields your body with his own as frozen wooden splinters fly everywhere, his thrusts stuttering as the sound of cracking wood pierces the air. you can tell he’s scared, constantly worried about losing control of his evol around you like this. his hands clasp together, massaging his wrists and trying to calm the unpredictable storm of his evol. you can feel him about to pull away, to get away from you and keep you safe.
you hug him close to you as he tries to pull away not wanting him to stop, not caring the least bit about the splintering wood falling into your hair. the worry and disgust with himself is evident in his eyes, and it tears at your heart so you do your best to comfort him, “s’okay zayne, it’s not a big deal, i promise.”
but his eyes are far away, thick with emotions that make your chest lurch. you hold his face in your hands trying to get him to look at you and not the splintered mess of furniture above you. you lock your knees around his waist. “zayne baby,” you soothe gently, “look at me. look at me please.”
his frantic eyes meet yours under the guidance of your palms. you watch as the storm in his eyes calms down ever so slightly when they meet yours. you brush your thumb against his cheek, whispering, “don’t stop, please. m’so close. i need you.”
but zayne is hesitant, only filled with worry for you, his thrusts halting altogether but still thick and solid in you. his jaw clenches down, “did i hurt you?”
“not at all,” you reassure, hand stroking his anguish laced face, “i don’t care, please make me cum zayne, want to cum for you s’bad.”
zayne continues his thrusts slowly, trying to shake away his anger at himself, “hah – i’m so sorry y/n, i’ll buy you a new one, okay?”
“y-yes whatever you want, but please just fuck me,” you plead, not wanting your climax to slip through your fingers, “please don’t stop.”
your begging is enough to have zayne going feral again, slowly regaining the vigor in his thrusts. his hand dusts the wooden fragments away from your hair. your head sinks deep into the pillow, and falls back to peer at the gaping hole in your bed frame, slightly in awe of his sheer primal strength. it honestly turned you on unbelievably, edging you closer and closer.
“zayne i c-can’t wait anymore, m’sorry m’cumming,” you wail, your nails digging through his back as the ecstasy explodes in your body, from the tips of your curled toes to your fucked out brain. your walls flex against zayne’s vigorous thrusts as he continues to chase his own high, briefly forgetting about the furniture he’d ruined in his brief slip of control.
your eyes pull away from the snowflakes melting on the splintered headboard and fixate on zayne’s eyes as your vision spots with fireworks, his cock pistoning in and out of you relentlessly.
he lifts your thighs up until they press against his chest, your muscles aching in protest. your ankles rest on his shoulders as he drives himself into your guts at this angle. he leans down and your body screams at the stretch in your muscles but he hits you so deeply like this you can’t feel anything but pleasure. he hits your g spot at every thrust, your body barely recovering from the previous orgasm as he steers you straight into another.
“sh-shit,” he groans, his eyes hooded as they bore into yours, “squeezing me so fucking tight, are you trying to milk me? if you keep clenching down like that i’m gonna – fuck!” he swears at your nails digging into his broad back, dragging deep scratches into him as he fucks you roughly through the pleasure.
“p-please zayne i want to feel you,” you cry, “cum inside me, please.” as zayne pounds into you with no semblance of mercy, stars blur your vision, your body doing your best to accommodate him and the endless waves of overwhelming ecstasy. your wet release splashes against your skin with every thrust of his hard muscular body.
“f-fuck i’m gonna cum so deep inside you baby,” he groans with his eyes intently staring into yours, “this pussy is all mine.”
“you’re mine,” his voice is intense, a primal growl of urge and possessiveness, claiming you as his with both words and with his body. he bends back down, pressing a wet open mouthed kiss into you, tongue intertwining with yours needily. both his hands threads through your hair, tugging gently as he rocks into you. he groans into your mouth, body shuddering as he finally releases into you.
zayne rips away from your lips to rock onto his knees before you and carry you onto his lap, wanting to be able to hold you as close as possible as he emptied rope after rope inside of you. the angle allowed him to literally fuck his spend up into you. your legs wrap around his waist and your hands around his neck, unable to even squeal at the sudden movement, only able to drool out against the crook of his neck.
his spend is so deliciously hot inside of you, as your pussy quivers at the warmth, squeezing him even more. he forces his tongue into you again, wanting to be attached to you in every way as he pumps every thick rope into your waiting womb. as he tugs on your bottom lip, body still pressed on top of your legs, cock hitting your sweetest spots, you release all over him again.
your eyes squeeze shut as your cunt pulsates uncontrollably, pulling more and more of his essence into you. zayne’s thick muscles shake under you, the waves of his orgasm rocking his entire body into yours.
you pant as his bounces slow, his unending stamina finally coming to a halt as his sweaty chest heaves against your trembling breasts. he presses gentle kisses to the deep hickeys he’d marked onto your skin, using his broad hands to caress your bruise splotched throat.
the sound of satisfied pants and soft moans blankets the two of you as you snuggle into him, never wanting this moment of post sex bliss to end. your collective spend begins to leak down onto zayne’s lap, your poor cunt physically unable to hold the copious amount of spend inside of you.
as his member softens it begins to slip out of you uncomfortably, so you squeeze in an effort to keep him in you as long as physically possible.
zayne swears, his eyes heated and his gentle grip on your throat tightening just slightly, as he warns you darkly, “behave. unless you want me to take you again.”
and though the idea of him bringing you to orgasm again, and many times after, sounds like heaven on earth, you don’t think your poor cunt can possibly handle any more pleasure for tonight. he chuckles when you ease up, stroking the curvature of your naked spine with his icy fingers.
“i’m sorry about your bed, my love,” he murmurs into the shell of your ear, falling softly backwards onto the bed and guiding you down with him until you rested on top of his hard muscular body, his softening erection still nuzzled deep inside you. he’s careful to lay the two of your joined bodies away from the destroyed headboard, holding your head protectively against his chest. “i will buy you a replacement tomorrow.”
his free hand roams every inch of your body, from twirling the strands of your hair to gripping the supple flesh of your rear.
“s’okay zayne, it’s not necessary,” you murmur sleepily, tracing the contours of his taut muscles, “i don’t need a new frame.” honestly the idea of zayne breaking your bed in pure primal lust was enough to have the heat collecting back in between your thighs.
“i would rather you take me on a date,” you smile into his skin, “since you ruined the one i had today.”
zayne chuckles, the sound so warm and beautiful to your ears you think you might melt right into his solid frame, “i suppose i did. will you let me take you out tomorrow?”
you lean up so that your chin rests on his chest and you can peer at him through your lashes, giving him your best begging face, “only if you beg.”
he looks up at you, the amused lopsided smile on his face just begging to be wiped off, “please? let me take you to dinner.” he lifts your chin off his chest with his index finger, leaning up to press a chaste kiss to your lips. he smirks when you shiver at his fleeting touch, watching you bend to his very will.
“and then after…” he trails off, fingers leaving your face to trace against the side of your exposed breasts, and up to your hard nipples. you bite your lip, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of moaning out.
as he incessantly fiddles with your skin, you finish his thought with a joke, “after you can come destroy my new bed frame too.”
zayne’s eyes darken with mischief and amusement, “you shouldn't write checks your body can’t cash, my love.”
the filthy promise in his words coupled with his cold fingers pressed deliciously into your pebbled peaks rip the whimper you’d been holding back out of your lips, your cunt clenching in anticipation despite your crippling exhaustion.
but it seems zayne knows your body as well as you do. “but for tonight, just sleep,” he mumbles into the top of your head, pressing his lips into your hair.
“mmm stay here with me, please,” you murmur into his chest, letting the sleep take root in your pleasure numbed mind.
“i’ll be here when you wake up,” he reassures, his voice falling deeper and rougher with exhaustion and hands shifting to cover your bodies with your comforter. his hands then wrap around your waist, holding your body against this, as if scared you’d disappear from his arms. “i won’t ever leave you.”
your heart flutters as the unconsciousness claims you. “g’night zayne,” you mumble, kissing his chest.
“good night my love.”
© aeyumicore 2024. please do not steal ♡
taglist: @queenashen @kttriangle @lyssa-211 @jeikeun
#love and deepspace#l&ds#lads#zayne love and deepspace#l&ds smut#lads smut#love and deep space smut#love and deepspace smut#love and deepspace scenarios#zayne fluff#zayne#zayne x reader#lads zayne#zayne x you#loveanddeepspace#lads x reader#l&ds scenarios#l&ds x reader#li shen#zayne smut#zayne fic#zayne imagines#zayne drabbles#love and deepspace fic#love and deepspace x reader
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yan!shigaraki would pathetically fist his cock to pictures and videos he took of you when he believes you didn’t notice him. he follows you to your job, hangouts with your friends, and basically everywhere you go whenever he can; and if he can’t he’ll just sent one of the league members to watch you and report back to him. when shigaraki is playing his dating sims, he imagines the game’s love interest who is complimenting him is you. he only watches pornos if the person is a dom and shares some of the same figures as you.
shigaraki fantasizes about you pulling his hair and calling him names while also praising him and holding him close. he wants your lips to steal his first kiss, your hands and mouth to give him bruises and mark him as yours, and he wants you to have your way with him as you take his virginity.
when shigaraki sneaks inside your bedroom through your suspiciously open window, he goes to still whatever things he thinks you won’t notice are missing until he comes across a piece of paper that was being spot lit by your desk lamp. he walked towards the paper that was written in red ink spelling ‘surprise’. then out of nowhere you jump up from your hiding spot to tackle him onto your bed and put on quirk canceling handcuffs on him (where did you even get those?? he wondered).
you glared down at shigaraki like he was a useless insect, he really shouldn’t be turned on by this, but he is. your nonchalant expression turned sadistic as you watched your pathetic stalker try to blubber out excuses.
“well well well, the infamous leader of the league of villains stealing my clothes like a pathetic stalker. this is too funny. i should just call my many hero friends to take your dirty ass away… but fortunately for you, i pity you. so here’s what’s gonna happen.”
you run your hand down shigaraki’s twitching belly, unzipped the front of his pants, and slipped your fingers into his pre stained boxed to stroke his semi-hard cock into full hardness, all while he was whimpering pitifully and jerking his hips up along the movements of your hand. you watch his face like a hawk, grinning as you watch his expression change to lovesick and pleasure-filled.
“i’m going to give you the best fuck of your life, and in exchange: you’ll take me out on a date. we have a deal, stalker?”
shigaraki let out a shaky breath as he could feel the edge almost reach him, he nod his head and tried to resist kissing you right then and there. “y-yes, i’ll do whatever you want- oh god! f-fuck me, fuck me please!” he pleaded as his hands gripped onto your bedsheets for dear life.
oh you were gonna have so much fun with him.
#˚ 🪄₊‧ ame writes ⟢#yandere#yandere male#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere x darling#male yandere#yandere x y/n#yandere smut#sub yandere#yandere x willing reader#yandere bnha#yandere mha#yandere shigaraki#yandere drabble#yandere scenarios#yandere blurb#sub bnha#bnha x reader#sub mha#mha x reader#mha#bnha#sub shigaraki#shigaraki tomura#shigaraki x reader#mha shigaraki#bnha shigaraki#dom!reader#dom reader
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you are part of me. (gojo satoru x reader)
summary: when gojo satoru loves, he is loud about it. and he doesn’t care if you don’t love him back.
word count: 3604
warnings: fem!reader, friends to lovers, very mild angst, swearing, gojo being gojo, canon compliant storyline
Gojo Satoru enters your life at 16 years old.
His presence suffocates the room, his cursed energy is something not best ignored. Quiet, yet noticeable. Like something that’s bubbling just under the surface. It’s almost as if a very dangerous animal has been reigned in, held back on a leash. That’s how his cursed energy feels to you. You, who is a mere novice. New to the world of curses and sorcery, landing in Jujutsu Tech after everything near and dear to you was ripped from you by this world.
He intimidates you.
He is loud, lean, but very tall. He demands attention when he walks into a room. He is jovial, a little aloof (you're not sure if it’s on purpose), big goofy grin and round, almost comical sunglasses. His hair is so bright, and his eyes are so blue, it’s almost blinding to look at him.
He is everything that you are not.
He is a year older, and your classmate Haibara can never stop talking about him and Geto. Nanami does not enjoy being around them, but he holds them in regard because they are his seniors. Shoko might be the only one he truly respects, and that almost makes you fear her. You make up your mind to try and stay as invisible as possible around them. You do not enjoy the spotlight.
Unfortunately, Gojo thrives in the spotlight, and he has a knack for pulling other people into it with him.
“Oh hello. Fresh meat?” He is grinning down at you, eyes barely visible behind the dark, circular lenses. “And aren’t you cute. You better toughen up sweetcheeks, or the big bad curses are gonna eat you up.”
You don’t know what exactly he means. You’re too caught up in the fact that he called you cute. It makes you heat up under the collar of your brand new jujutsu uniform. And his intense stare makes you fidget.
You do not like it.
You just frown at him and turn away, taking advantage of the fact that Nanami was leaving the room and going along with him. You don’t notice how he stares at the back of your head as you leave, but Geto sure does. The raven haired boy lets out a pained sigh before leaning back on the creaky classroom chair.
“Here we go.”
Gojo hums questioningly, glancing at his best friend once you have left the room.
“You’re going to fixate on her now. And you’re going to be an insufferable prick about it.”
Gojo doesn’t deny it. He merely settles into a chair of his own, feeling the corners of his lips twitch.
……………….
Life at Jujutsu Tech isn’t as bad as you expected.
Your room is spacious enough to hold all your belongings. It has a nice view of the gardens, and is warm enough that you sleep comfortably through the nights. Your classmates are easy to get along with. Haibara loves carrying the conversation, and while Nanami isn’t as energetic, he shares a lot of your interests so you love talking to him.
The deep, sorrowful ache in your chest is slowly subsiding. Very slowly. Oftentimes, you remember your old life. You remember the smiles on your parents’ faces, and you shed tears in the late hours of the night. But they are gone. And you are here. You can’t do anything about it.
And then there’s Gojo Satoru.
For someone who is apparently the ‘strongest’, part of a major jujutsu clan and heir to the infamous Six Eyes, you would think he would be a busy person. But somehow, he finds a way to always be lazing around the campus, and unfortunately, he loves engaging you in conversation.
“Fresh meat!” He hasn’t stopped calling you that. He hasn’t even learned your name. Or introduced himself. Of course, you already know who he is. But it would be the polite thing to do, wouldn’t it?
You would soon learn that Gojo Satoru has no manners, and no amount of scolding could teach him any.
“Heard you took down a fourth grade all by yourself. Congratulations!”
You eye him with a scowl, while all he does is grin back at you.
“You’re mocking me, senpai.”
Gojo places a hand on his chest, gasping so loud it was comical, acting shocked at your accusation.
“I would never!”
You sigh deeply, a regular habit you have developed since the boy had decided to shadow you, continuing to make your way back to your room as he trails behind you. While a fourth grade may not be a big deal to someone like Gojo, it is to you, who has never interacted with, let alone fought a curse.
You open your room door, stepping in and looking back to stare at your senior as he smiles down at you. You wait for him to say something cheeky like he usually does, about how you should invite him in so you can hang out, or his usual ‘let me take you out to dinner’, which he loves tossing around whenever he sees an opening.
“I’m real proud of ya, sweetcheeks.” He says instead, and his voice is softer, having lost the sharp edge that it usually carries.
There it is again, the heat under your collar. The little knot in your throat.
You close your room door in his face.
………………
“He likes you.”
“He doesn’t. He just likes to annoy me.”
“That’s his way of spending time with you.”
“I’d rather he leave me alone, then.”
“That’s an impossible ask.”
The chocolate icing on your brownie melts in your mouth as you chew on it, giving a disdainful look to Utahime who is apparently hell bent on proving this nonexistent crush Gojo seems to have on you. You don’t believe her. Mostly because you don’t think Gojo is capable of liking you, of all people. You also doubt his ability to genuinely give a shit about anyone that isn’t his closest friends. You’re just some underclassman that he thinks is fun to pester every now and then.
(‘Every now and then’ in this context means ‘every possible second of every day’.)
Utahime takes a big gulp on her coffee, and you have to wonder why the hot liquid doesn’t burn her throat as it goes down. Your phone pings again, for the seventh time in the last half hour, and Utahime stares pointedly at the unsaved number on your screen. You swipe the phone off the table quickly and flip the switch to ‘silent mode’.
“You haven’t saved his number? Ouch. He’s not gonna like that.”
You roll your eyes and glare at the screen of your phone. How long has he been texting you with random crap?
“I don’t give a shit what he likes.”
“You will. When he whines about it and never lets it go for the rest of your life.”
You sigh defeatedly and give your friend pleading eyes. “Can we please talk about something else? I see and hear Gojo enough during the day. I don’t need to talk about him with you too.”
When your friend agrees, you are blessed with a wonderful, Gojo-free afternoon of chatting, shopping and excessive eating. You’re still buzzing as you climb up the steps to Jujutsu Tech at sundown, rummaging through the tote bag where you had dropped all your little purchases. Just small knick knacks that made you happy to look at.
“Did ya get me anything?”
You yelp and jump, nearly falling off the step behind you but catching yourself before you can faceplant on the concrete. Gojo lets out an annoying cackle at your reaction, making you glare up at him.
“What is wrong with you?! I could’ve gotten seriously injured!”
He scoffs, walking the few steps between you two, hands buried in his pants pockets. “Like I would let that happen. You gotta trust me more, sweetcheeks.”
You ignore the now familiar way your ears and neck heat up, choosing to walk past him and continue your way up the steps.
“So? Got me anything?”
You groan internally, knowing he wouldn’t leave this alone. If you say no, he will complain about how he isn’t important enough in your life to warrant a little gift. If you then say he isn’t, that will result in even worse (and louder) whining, and you don’t have the energy to deal with that right now. You scramble through the bag slung over your shoulder, pulling out a cute carrot shaped pen with a smiley face on it. You had gotten two pens, one carrot shaped and one that looked like corn. You just thought they were insanely cute. It’s okay. You can afford to lose one.
Gojo eyes the pen when you hand it to him. “Why did ya get me this?”
He clearly knows you just pulled a random object out. He just wants to see what you will say.
“It’s…. tall and thin. You’re tall and thin.” You deadpan.
Gojo snorts, seeing through your very obvious lie. “You love me so much, don’t you?”
You stop in your tracks, watching Gojo’s back as he keeps walking, unaffected by your shocked gaze.
“Senpai-”
“See ya tomorrow!” He calls, twiddling the pen around his fingers as he disappears near the landing of the stairs.
Your heart races at his words. You feel angry and frustrated. But you’re not sure at whom.
………………….
When it’s Shoko’s birthday, you are forced to be around Gojo all day.
It’s a harrowing experience, one that can only be withstood by god’s toughest soldier, and god thinks that is you, apparently, because as per his usual habits, Gojo doesn’t leave you alone.
“Oh, this is nothing.” Geto comments, sipping on some fruity punch that you are almost sure contains alcohol. Both of you watch as Gojo tries to tie a conical party hat on Nanami’s head, while the boy in question puts up a valiant fight to try and keep his upperclassman at bay.
“He once had a crush on the daughter of some prominent gang leader in Tokyo. Almost landed himself in jail with the kind of stunts he pulled.”
You blink at him, watching as he brushes some strands of black hair off his face. “Seriously?”
He nods, smirking at your shocked silence, watching the gears in your head turn. “Don’t worry, he won’t do that to you.”
You worry your bottom lip between your teeth. “What makes you sure of that?”
Geto shrugs, watching the way Gojo’s eyes flit to you every now and then. You fail to notice it, too caught up in making up scenarios in your head where Gojo does something potentially illegal and lands both of you in serious trouble.
“You’re different.” Is his simple reply. It does nothing but confuse you more.
Later in the night, Shoko forces you to down an alcoholic drink. You sputter on the horrific taste of it, trying to get out from under her hold as she laughs at your reaction. Haibara enjoys your misery just as much, while Nanami’s face is blank. You are sure he is trying to erase tonight from his memory entirely.
The night is cold, but your hands are warm and your head is buzzing with happiness. Your cheeks hurt from the constant smiling and laughing. Every now and then, your eyes would meet brilliant blue ones. You are so cheerful that you even giggle when Gojo makes some lame pun at Geto’s expense. So cheerful, in fact, that you don’t protest when he decides he wants to walk you to your room.
You hum the song you had sung karaoke to, walking without so much as a thought in your head. Gojo is munching on a mini chocolate bar, one hand in his pocket. For once, he is silent.
When you stop at your door, you turn to look at him, trying to search his eyes. You find nothing, and you feel the sudden urge to know more about him. Geto’s words roam through your head.
“Senpai,” You whisper. “Why am I different?”
He smiles then, not his usual toothy grin, but softer, kinder. It makes him look even younger than he is. Somehow, it seems he knows exactly what you mean.
“Because I’m in love with ya, sweetcheeks.”
He leaves it at that. And you don’t ask any follow up questions.
……………………..
Gojo’s love is loud.
He never says the word after that one night. But he never exactly negates his declaration. He continues to be around you as much as possible. He loves pinching at your cheeks until they sting, loves draping an arm over your shoulder and laying a sloppy kiss on it when he can get away with it. He is much taller and stronger than you, so pushing him away does nothing except spur him on even more. You realize that he is naturally a very touchy-feely person, so you dismiss his affection as just him being annoying as hell. Both of you settle into a strange dynamic, one where he teases you endlessly and you try not to appear affected by it.
It’s unconventional but it works. You will even go as far as saying that he is your friend.
When you refer to him as such, he stares at you mouth agape, before letting out a big whoop and crushing you into a hug. You protest his grip and try to free yourself, failing as usual. Deep in your chest, your heart stutters at his proximity.
Gojo Satoru doesn’t have a single subtle bone in his body.
He introduces you as his girlfriend to curses, claiming it doesn’t matter because they are all stupid and can’t understand him anyway, so he can say what he wants. Besides, he’s gonna kill them mere minutes later. You don’t even know where to begin to fight his logic on that, so you just facepalm and let him do it, provided he doesn’t say it in front of actual people.
“You say it like being my girlfriend would be so bad.”
“It would be the worst thing known to mankind. I would kill myself actually.”
That earns you a very strong pinch on the cheek, one that has you yelping and pushing him away. It leaves behind a red mark that makes you hold back a smile every time you see it in the mirror.
Sometimes you wonder how easy it is for him to talk to you like this. He seems to not have an ounce of fear of rejection, no matter how many times you have told him that you aren’t interested. Like he is confident that it simply isn’t true. He makes it seem effortless, to attach himself to you and declare that you’re his ‘favorite’ person and one day he would be your favorite person too.
You try to ignore how accurate you think that is. And how close he is to actually becoming your favorite person. You can’t possibly let him find that out. He would become even more unbearably smug than he already is.
And so you continue to bask in this…. strange limbo. You warm yourself in the glaringly bright light of Gojo Satoru. And you secretly pray that it never goes away.
When Geto defects, you almost lose him.
You find him on the steps of Jujutsu High, staring out at god knows what, completely silent. In your years of knowing him, you had never seen him sit in one place for so long. He doesn’t even budge when you sit next to him. You don’t say a word. And neither does he.
The wind moves gently through his silver locks. The blue in his eyes has dulled and darkened. You sit on those steps for hours.
Something changes between you two after that evening. Somehow, Gojo is more…. human to you now. You see him struggle to come to terms with what has happened, to truly realise the unfair responsibility that he bears on his shoulders as the strongest sorcerer in the Jujutsu world. You sees how that changes him, how it dims him, and how he matures in that time.
Yet Gojo is still Gojo. Even years later, he continues to love you loudly and proudly. He is still constantly attached at the hip to you, even more so in your adult years now that you live off campus. He is somehow always at your place, even after you take away his emergency key because he never uses it for emergencies. There is a ‘Gojo drawer’ in your storage closet, huge bathroom slippers and an extra toothbrush. His preferred brand of shampoo and conditioner are housing in your cabinet, spares that he keeps for when he crashes in your guest bedroom.
(Let’s be honest. It’s less of a guest bedroom and more so Gojo’s room at this point).
You commute to work together in the mornings, which you think is funny since Gojo can just teleport wherever he wants. He says it’s because he wants to spend more time with you.
Oh yeah, he still constantly says he is in love with you.
Years and years after his first declaration, Gojo has still not budged. At this point you are so used to it that it doesn’t bother you anymore. Like it’s second nature. Like Gojo is meant to love you. Like there was never any doubt about it. Your mutual friends have accepted it too by now. No one bats an eye when Gojo whines about missing you. Or when he waltzes into your on-campus office claiming “two hours is enough time for us to be apart”.
You don’t know when exactly it settles over you. How important Gojo is to you. How you can’t go a day without him. How you get pissy and irritable when he goes on missions overseas that take weeks at a time. The transition is so smooth that sometimes you think you were always meant to love Gojo, just like he was always meant to love you.
‘Senpai’ becomes ‘Gojo-san’. Which becomes Satoru’.
It never occurred to you that Gojo was still, technically, a friend. You were with him so often, bickering and snickering, cuddling and lounging around. He was a part of you, like you were a part of him.
Then you hear words that shock you to your very core.
“In my eyes, you two are already married.”
Never in a million years would you have expected Ijichi to say those words. Everyone else is one thing. But fucking Ijichi?
You stare at the back of his head when he says them, the silence in the car deafening. You know Ijichi well enough to be certain he isn’t saying these words falsely, even if he means them lightheartedly. If this is what Ijichi truly thinks, then….. Is it what things are actually like?
It takes only a few minutes of reflection for you to realise that he isn’t far off. Gojo is so deeply ingrained in every nook and cranny of your life that it is beyond irreversible now. There is no way to untangle your lives. He is part of you, just as you are part of him.
It’s almost as if the universe is nodding in confirmation when you open the door to your apartment and find Gojo sprawled on the couch, flipping through TV channels. He is wearing sweatpants and a black T-shirt that looks unfairly good on him, especially since he clearly isn’t trying at all.
He stands up and you notice on the coffee table before him that he has laid out a myriad of snacks, both savory and sweet to cater for your varying taste buds. You spot at least three of your preferred treats in them. Your heart beat slows down, settles. Like you are at peace again. You feel a warmth under your collar. One that you haven’t felt since you were a wee teenager just stepping onto the Jujutsu High campus. You eye the back of Gojo’s head.
“Hey.” He calls, barely glancing back at you, eyeing his treasured snack collection as if contemplating which one he should start with. “Some shitty American reality show is on. You wanna make fun of ‘em together?”
He turns to look at you when you don’t respond, raising an eyebrow. Brilliant blue eyes bore into you.
“You okay?”
You walk closer to him, still silent, until he is mere inches from you, craning your head up to look at him. The background noise from the TV gets tuned out.
“What would you do if I kissed you right now?”
Gojo blinks. “I’d kiss you back.”
Your breath hitches. The knot in your throat tightens. No hesitation. No shock. Not so much as a stir. It’s like you’re asking him what to make for dinner.
“Okay.” You whisper. And then you’re leaning up, pressing your lips to his.
His hand reaches up to cup the back of your neck. The other stabilizes you at the waist. His lips are soft and smooth, almost dainty, slowly picking up intensity as he presses closer to you. Your heart is racing a mile a minute, and as you press closer to him, you feel that his is just the same, the only indication that he is affected by you just as you are by him.
When your lips part, you don’t open your eyes. Your foreheads touch and you let yourself feel, truly feel, the effects of his touch on you.
“I love you.”
Gojo’s smile is soft. His touch is tender. Comforting. Familiar. “I know.”
#gojo satoru#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x reader#gojo satoru fluff#gojo fluff#jjk x reader#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen fluff#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#gojo fanfiction#gojo imagine#friends to lovers#gojo satoru fanfic#gojo satoru imagine#gojo satoru x you
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fucktoy part 2 | f1 grid
pairing: dom!max verstappen ; dom!lando norris ; dom!rbr!seb x sub!bimbo!reader
warnings: smut, dumbification, hair pulling, spitting, blowjob, mention of gagging, dacryphilia
w/c: 0.7k
summary: the f1 grid loves to simply use you as their fucktoy or as a stress relief and nothing else.
check this out: my masterlist <3 // my ko-fi to support me! <3 // my PayPal to support me! <3 // my Patreon to become a member! (get access to +65 works! <3 // Save a Life carrd made by me! <3
thinking once again about how the f1 grid would simply use you as a stress relief, as a simple fucktoy they can use whenever and wherever they want.
Definitely thinking about how max would ruthlessly snatch you away from who you’re currently talking to, being extra rough and careless if you’re talking to another driver.
“M-Max! What are you-”
But only a few minutes later you were already on max's lap with your thong pushed to the side and his dick ramming in and out of you while you desperately tried to ride him but you couldn’t, you were already way to weak for that, instead you just put your palms onto his broad shoulders for balance.
You pathetically whined into the crook of his neck, soft hands of yours already trembling, “M-Max, ah! P-Please, god, please!”
“Ride my cock,” he briefly groaned, throwing his head back in the process, “just like that, fucking hell,” he squeezed his eyes shut and went faster with his hips, making your entire body automatically bounce on his cock,
“Up and down you go, perfect,” he nodded teasingly before he pulled your head up by your hair, smirk widening as he noticed your with tears stained cheeks, “you’re so cockdumb aren’t you? Oh yes, you are.”
Or how lando wouldn’t hesitate to pull you into his drivers room after a bad race, immediately forcing you on your knees and using your throat however he pleases.
“Open up wider, baby, know you fuckin' can,” he ordered in a deep tone before he shoved his length entirely into your mouth, chuckling and biting his inner cheek with an evil grin as he heard your infamous gagging sounds that the entire paddock already knew.
“Go deeper, go deeper,” he raised his brows while he forced himself further down your throat with his veiny hand onto the back of your head, “yeahhhh, that’s my good girl.”
And as soon you would look up at lando, he wouldn’t be able to resist the urge to disgustingly fuck your throat until you would be the biggest crybaby he had ever seen,
“gosh you’re so pathetic,” lando threw his head back, “you like that? Yeah? Speak up, baby c‘mon,” he teased you with a wicked smile,
“oh no! The pretty little cockslut can’t speak, huh, is her mouth to full, hmm?” He laughed before he forced his cock further down your already sore throat.
redbull racing era seb would simply not care if you’re in the middle of a conversation with somebody, right after he won once again another race, he would walk towards your small figure talking to Lewis.
“Congratulations, se-!” But before you were able to finish your sentence, Sebastian already grabbed your upper arm and harshly pulled you away, leading you towards the redbull garage, slamming you face forward into the nearest wall of his small drivers room.
“So we're talking to Lewis now, huh? Why the fuck were you talking to him, huh?!” He roughly pulled on your hair, forcing you to lean your head backwards.
“Oww! We were j-just talking about t-the race, seb!” But Sebastian only chuckled behind you before he grabbed your chin and lift your dress with his other hand, quietly freeing himself as well.
He looked down into your glassy eyes, “oh of course you’re crying now, you’re such a fucking little crybaby, do you know that?” He nodded along his question before he slowly fully entered you, forcing you to shape your mouth into an inviting 'O' form.
Sebastian smiled down at you, other hand grabbing your chin again, “you like that? Yeah, you like that?” He nodded along his teasing words as he mocked you with a pout on his lips, making you cry out even harder.
Then you felt the young redbull driver spitting on your tongue, using his thumb to spread it all over it before he started to fuck you harder, letting go of your chin to grab your arms and pull them harshly behind ypur back, bending them backwards and holding them down so you weren’t able to move them, face now entirely pressed into the wall by his other hand.
“You talk to Lewis again and I fuck you so long until you’re so far gone that you have no idea which driver is fucking you anymore, got it?” lips ghosting over your ear before you heard him groan in pleasure.
#fanfic#fanfiction#f1#smut#max verstappen#max verstappen x reader smut#max verstappen x reader#lando norris smut#lando norris#lando norris x reader#lando norris x reader smut#rbr seb x reader#rbr f1#rbr!seb x reader smut#rbr seb#seb#sebastian#sebastian vettel#red bull sebastian vettel#red bull f1#f1 x reader#f1 smut#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#classic f1
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fixer upper
pairing: minghao x reader
wordcount: 9.5k
summary: you love your friends dearly, but do they really think that they can match make for their resident matchmaker? minghao’s certainly interesting, though, so maybe you can fix him up with someone else instead.
genre/themes: s2f2l. “beg” minghao. LOTS OF PLOT with eventual smut. slow and i mean SLOW burn. some member slander(affectionate), lol. set in the ‘we get along infamously’ universe.
a/n: i have nothing to say for myself regarding the length of this.
You tapped the bartop impatiently as you waited for your blind date to show up. You couldn’t believe that Danbi had roped you into this, but you had lost the game of darts fair and square. As a result, you were here waiting for a man named Minghao to show up. Part of you really wanted to skip out on this, because you just did not trust Danbi’s romantic sensibilities. She had dated a string of truly boring and strange people for months before you had finally set her up with Seungcheol. There was no way this Minghao was going to be anywhere near suited for you, but you were a person of your word, so you would do the date and be done with it.
“Hey, are you YN?” a voice called from above your left shoulder. You turned your head to see a tall, lanky individual with dark hair looking curiously at you.
“Yes, are you Minghao?” you sat up straight, fixing him with a smile. He wasn’t your usual type, physically, but you couldn’t deny he was handsome.
“Yes, nice to meet you,” he smiled, taking the barstool next to you.
“So how do you know Danbi?” you asked after he had ordered with the bartender.
“Ah, so,” Minghao looked almost sheepish, “I helped Jeonghan get together with the person he’s dating now. One of my close friends! And so I met Seungcheol and Danbi through Jeonghan.”
“Oh?” you calculated the degrees of separation quickly in your mind. “So you don’t really know Danbi at all, then!”
“Not well,” Minghao shook his head. “I was kind of surprised when Jeonghan told me that she wanted to set me up on a date.”
“I-,” you laughed, somehow relieved to find out that this hadn’t been any serious effort on your friend’s part. “Honestly, thank god! No offense to you, I obviously don’t know you, but Danbi historically has not impressed me with her taste in men.”
“No offense taken,” Minghao chuckled, bringing his cocktail to his lips for a quick sip. “So does that mean you’re the resident matchmaker in your friend group as well?”
“Very much so,” you nodded, “So I’m not sure exactly what Danbi thinks she’s up to, trying to take my title. In fact, I bet even I could set you up with someone better! And I don’t even know you at all!” you blustered.
“Oh really?” Minghao’s eyebrow raised. You were funny.
“What, you don’t believe me?” you furrowed your brows at him.
“I mean, no one is a better matchmaker than me, so my bar is pretty high,” he replied smugly. “I’ve only ever had one couple break up, and it was due to one of their jobs making them move away.”
“Out of how many?” you found yourself curious.
“...Eight?” Minghao had to tally in his mind quickly.
“Hah! That’s nothing!” you waved him off easily, “I’ve successfully set up eleven couples and none of them have broken up yet!”
Minghao smiled, amused by your bright and confident energy. While you clearly weren’t suited for him, he found himself wanting to beat you at your own game.
“Set me up then,” he invited confidently. “But I bet I can find you a match sooner than you can find one for me.”
“Oh?” you grinned at his gamelike proposal. Before you even knew it, the words came out of your mouth, “You’re on!”
Minghao laughed, shaking your hand enthusiastically. You spent the rest of your “date” exchanging phone numbers and excitedly reviewing each other’s basic likes and dislikes. Minghao wasn’t your type, but he certainly was interesting! He worked in HR for a tech company, had interests in art and fashion, and also had trained in mixed martial arts as a child? Quite a strange array of hobbies, but you were so going to win this thing!
…
“So, how did it go?” Minghao’s voice sounded slightly tinny through your headphones.
“Not good,” you were almost excited to report on how badly the date had gone. “I would rate your matchmaking skills like a 4 out of 10 right now!”
“Excuse me?” Minghao stopped in his tracks. Surely he had misheard you.
“Four. Out of ten.” you repeated yourself, grinning at the way you could tell he was surprised by your feedback.
“No, that can’t be right.”
“Allow me to elaborate,” you pressed on as you decided to take the long way home so you could regale Minghao with every last detail of why your date with Wonwoo had not been stellar. “First…could you have found someone more quiet or disinterested to have set me up with? You’d think I was trying to pull his teeth out!”
Minghao squeezed his eyes together. He and Wonwoo had built up their rapport over many years and he’d somehow forgotten just how tight-lipped his friend could be when meeting someone new.
“Also his only hobby seems to be gaming? I don’t know anything about that nor do I have an interest,” you continued. “Ah, it’s so nice out!” you commented as an aside while you pulled a pink bloom to your nose to inhale.
“Oh are you outside?” Minghao couldn’t help but ask.
“Yep, I’m walking home!” you nodded, “Oh I’m glad I took the long way! I forgot how much I like this park.”
“It is a nice day out,” Minghao looked out the glass panes of his office. He was painfully close to the end of his day and truth be told, he was excited to run out the clock with you on the phone. “So anyways, where are my four points coming from, because I haven’t heard anything positive yet.”
“Oh, well, I mean. I’m going to chalk that up to Wonwoo’s looks, really. He’s unbelievably handsome. Almost too handsome!” you threw your hands up in the air, drawing a few odd looks from other pedestrians.
Minghao laughed. It was true, Wonwoo was probably his most conventionally attractive friend, so it wasn’t a surprise to hear you say it too.
“Okay, so then…very cold on the personality traits, but very hot on the physical features. I can work off of that,” Minghao nodded, scanning through his mental roster of friends. Luckily, Wonwoo was probably the most introverted of them all, so it could only go upwards from here.
“Yep. Oh which! I have a candidate for you,” you clapped excitedly as you waited for the crosswalk to turn green. “My friend Yena!”
Minghao nodded contemplatively as you rattled off the list of compatible points that you saw for him and this Yena. He had his doubts, but he put your proposed date and time in his calendar. A deal was a deal.
“Okay, I’m almost home, so I’m going to hang up now! I’ll text Yena to confirm! Eee, I’m excited to hear what you think!”
“Okay, bye,” Minghao laughed, glancing at the clock again. It was officially quitting time, so he packed up his bag and headed out of the office. You’d been right, it was a beautiful day out, so he decided to switch up his commute as well. As he walked, he found himself wondering which park you had passed through on your way home.
…
[yn]: ‘sooooooo…………yena?!?!???!’
[minghao]: ‘6/10’
You narrowed your eyes in disbelief. Six out of ten?!
[yn]: ‘BE SO FUCKIN FR RIGHT NOW’
[minghao]: ‘no, I actually really liked her, but she said she doesn’t eat chinese food?! i can’t live like that’
What? Surely you had eaten Chinese food with Yena before, right? You racked your brain, but unfortunately came up empty handed. You had to admit, that was a big blind spot on your part.
[yn]: ‘.........i guess that has never come up before. my bad! i know that’s important to you’
[yn]: ‘i’m still up 2 tho! 6 against your 4.’
Minghao threw his head back to laugh. You were so competitive.
[yn]: ‘ok feedback on other qualities tho! plz & thank u’
Minghao waited, an amused smile on his lips, for your three dots to vanish before providing your requested feedback. As he had said, overall he had quite enjoyed meeting Yena. She had been a little quiet and shy at first, but had opened up quite a bit as the date went on. They shared an interest in art and had had quite a nice discussion before she revealed that she did not like Chinese food. Normally an aversion to specific food wouldn’t bother Minghao so much, but after moving, it was important for him to continue to engage with his culture and food was a major way in which he did that.
[yn]: ‘ok, got it, got it. that makes perfect sense’
A soft smile settled on his lips. Minghao was glad that you weren’t taking too much offense to his negative feedback. Part of him was glad that the date hadn’t gone that well and he was sure that it was just his competitive nature. It would have been humiliating for him if you had actually found him someone perfect on the first try.
[minghao]: ‘what are your plans for the weekend?’
[yn]: ‘theres a textile and apparel exhibit opening at the folk art museum that i wanted to check out’
[minghao]: ‘oh?? i was planning to go too! when are you going?’
You cocked your head curiously at your phone. That was weird. But you realized it would be very helpful to observe Minghao in the wild so as to do a better job choosing prospective dates for him. Then you could review your roster of candidates for him after the museum, so it could be a productive time! With a fluttery feeling in your chest, for whatever reason, you chose a meeting time to visit the museum with Minghao. Together.
…
You tapped your fisted hands against your hips as you scanned the crowds for Minghao. It had been a few weeks since you had first met him in person and you had an unreasonable worry that you’d forgotten what his face looked like. Glancing at your watch, you wondered if you had gotten the time wrong.
“YN!” a clear voice caught your attention.
“Ah, there you are!” your face cracked into a smile up at Minghao. “Ok, I’m glad I decided to dress up!” you exhaled with relief after taking in his outfit. He hadn’t been kidding when he’d said he was interested in fashion.
“This outfit is very cool,” he nodded approvingly, eyes raking over you. An unreasonable warmth spread across you at his assessment. You had spent longer than usual picking and re-picking necklaces to match the hardware on your boots. It was nice to see that it was appreciated.
“Thank you!” you beamed up at him, eyes creasing into semi-circles. “Now let’s go!” you gestured forcefully at the museum entrance.
“Okay, okay,” Minghao chuckled goodnaturedly, allowing you to lead the way.
“Holy fuck,” you breathed, hands fisted in excitement as you peered closely at the thread and beadwork on a contemporary bobbin lace exhibit. “Unreal.”
Minghao had to do a double take. Your mouth had fallen slightly open, enthralled, as you took in the detail and your eyes were as wide as saucers. You looked like a cartoon frog.
“You’ll catch a fly like that,” he teased, slipping two fingertips under your chin to snap your mouth shut.
You narrowed your eyes at him. If you’d learned one thing today, it was that Minghao was quite prone to teasing. It was a good thing that you had agreed to this museum trip after all, because otherwise your list of next candidates would’ve been wildly out of order.
“Do you want to see the other exhibits too? Or are you only interested in fiber arts?” Minghao asked, looking up from the museum layout map.
“No, I’m interested in all mediums!” you nodded at him. “I just think textile arts have been woefully excluded from the mainstream art world because, you know, misogyny,” you rolled your eyes theatrically at him as you followed his lead. “So I am particularly interested when museums put together exhibits like that!”
Minghao’s lips pinched slightly in amusement. He agreed with you, of course, but he found your animated enthusiasm in high contrast to the serious backdrop of the museum hall. He led the way to one of his favorite areas and you two passed the rest of the afternoon walking through the displays in contemplative quiet.
“I’m hungry,” you frowned as you left the museum.
“Me too,” Minghao grabbed at his midsection. “Let’s go find something to eat!”
“There’s a Chinese restaurant around here that I like! Let’s go there!” you suggested. Minghao nodded furiously, stomach grumbling insistently at him.
…
You glanced at your date out of the side of your eye as you wondered how rude it might be to just leave. While Joshua was certainly your physical type, all arms and chest, you quickly found out that the contents of his brain were just not for you. You weren’t religious at all and if he broke out into song, singing ‘Sunday Morning’ at or near you one more time, you might actually run away.
After going through the motions of saying goodbye, you pulled your phone out to dial Minghao as soon as you started walking home.
“Hello?” he answered, sounding slightly groggy.
“I need to understand your thought process with this one,” you shook your head in disbelief.
“Huh?” Minghao rubbed his eyes, pulling his phone away to check who had called. “Oh, hey! Sorry I just woke up.”
“Oh, did I wake you up?” you paused, “Shit, sorry! You didn’t have to answer me!”
“I didn’t know it was you! I also hadn’t meant to fall asleep,” Minghao chuckled and you heard some rustling of sheets in the background. “Sorry, what did you ask me again?”
“I need to know why you set me up with Joshua,” you frowned. “Do I give off a vibe that he’s my type?”
“Is he not?” Minghao wondered, “He’s more outgoing than Wonwoo, still handsome, and family oriented.”
“Okay, those things are true, but he’s also super religious, which I’m not. And I do not like to be sung at in public…or at all, I don’t think.”
“No, please,” Minghao started laughing, “Did he? I didn’t think he’d bring that out on a first date!” Minghao couldn’t stop laughing, practically kicking his feet in delight at the absurdity of it.
“Yeah, several times, in fact,” you rolled your eyes.
“Why are you so difficult to match for?” Minghao found himself asking. He was partially teasing, but also somewhat serious. People generally threw themselves at both Wonwoo and Joshua, so to hear you be so turned off by them was surprising and confusing.
“I’m not difficult! I think my expectations are more than reasonable,” you nodded firmly to yourself.
“Okay, elaborate on these expectations, please, because I’m clearly missing the mark.”
“Hm, well, okay. Someone funny and intelligent with a wide variety of interests or knowledge. Someone who would challenge me in ways that make me grow. Someone who also can understand that I should have my own endeavors and activities without feeling insecure. I dunno, someone who just gets me!”
“Very reasonable,” Minghao’s flat voice came back across the phone.
“It is reasonable!” you stamped your foot. You felt like he was teasing you again, but it was hard to tell over the phone.
“No, that’s helpful!” he clarified.
“Why are you asleep at 8pm anyways, you old man?” you suddenly remembered.
“Ugh, it was a long day,” he groaned into your ear, “I had to get to work early to prepare onboarding materials for new hires and then when I got home, I just passed out I guess.”
“Ah, well, do you want me to let you go? You should go back to sleep and catch up on yesterday.”
“No, I’m up now,” Minghao shook his head, reluctant to end the phone call. “Tell me about the restaurant, was the food at least good?”
You smiled, happy to stay on the line with him. The food had indeed been good and you described your meal and cocktails to him in vivid detail. You were now in your second month of knowing Minghao and your relationship had evolved into a tentatively comfortable friendship. Between all of the set up activities, you’d actually gotten to know him a bit and grown used to discussing and sharing other aspects of your lives. Minghao was definitely an introvert, but he was well balanced with an energy and enthusiasm that ensured you were never bored.
…
“Wait, I’m confused. You told me that the date with Minghao didn’t go well, but you’ve stayed in touch with him?” Danbi’s forehead wrinkled in confusion.
“What are you confused about? That’s exactly right,” you returned her confused look.
“Why would you stay in touch with someone you don’t like?”
“I never said I didn’t like him!” you shook your head, confused at her statement.
“You liked him, but the date didn’t go well? Why wouldn’t the date go well if you like him?”
“I can like him as a friend and not want to date him!”
Danbi narrowed her eyes at you. She didn’t think you were that petty, but it was almost as if you were purposefully maintaining a distance between yourself and Minghao just to spite her.
“So what do you two talk about?” she was curious.
“We’ve been setting each other up on dates! Supposedly he’s the friend group matchmaker, like me, but he’s pretty bad at it,” you chuckled, rolling your eyes. “But we talk about other things too! He likes art and fashion. We went to the textile exhibit opening a few weeks ago.”
Danbi shook her head; she was lost. Wasn’t that just a date? Luckily she knew you better than to prod too much further.
“Well that’s good! It’s always nice to make a new friend,” she smiled at you, “He should come to Soonyoung’s housewarming party next week!”
“Should he?”
“Yeah, of course! Jeonghan will be there and I think he invited a few of his coworkers too so see if Minghao wants to come!”
“Ah, I guess so,” you nodded, somehow nervous, “I’ll ask, but no promises.”
“Sure!” Danbi laughed, “Now let me show you some pictures of Doyun with Jeonghan and his new partner! Who you also have to meet!”
You giggled happily as Danbi flipped through her photos. Doyun had always looked more like Seungcheol as a baby, but now that he was getting older, he was taking on more and more of your friend’s features.
“Ah, he looks so much like you there! Ahhhh!” you shook your fists excitedly.
“He does look more like me recently, doesn’t he?” she beamed proudly at you.
For all the headache you had posed to her with this Minghao situation, she did love you and was grateful towards you for gently nudging her towards Seungcheol many years ago. You were very astute at reading others and as a result, she now had a wonderful husband and son. It had always interested and amused her that your insightfulness didn’t quite extend to yourself.
…
“Eeeee!” you and Soonyoung clapped your hands together excitedly after you’d sunk another ping pong ball into a plastic cup.
“Just perfect! Look at that technique! You duds don’t stand a chance!” he crowed, jeering at Seungcheol and Seokmin excitedly.
Danbi giggled excitedly at her husband’s rotten luck, to which Seungcheol pouted.
“Ya! Who are you even cheering for?!” he shouted playfully, leveling an accusing finger at his wife, inspiring another round of giggles.
“Me, of course! I can find her another husband, she can’t find another me!” you laughed, jumping up and down in delight at the way that Seungcheol fumed.
“You’re dead!” he furrowed his brows at you, “You’re so dead!” He made a show of stretching his neck and shoulders before taking his next shot at beer pong.
“Hah!” you shouted and shook Hoshi excitedly, collapsing into a puddle of laughter as Seungcheol’s ball ricocheted dramatically off of the rim and bounced anticlimactically across the ground. “Oh no, oh Cheol please I’m crying!” you hiccuped, wiping your eyes.
Minghao had slipped in quietly while you were taunting Seungcheol and he was shocked at the way you did it so loudly and unapologetically. He didn’t know Seungcheol quite that well yet, but he had been under the impression that he probably shouldn’t be messed with too much. A smile toyed at the corners of his mouth before he moved away to grab a beverage.
“You made it!” Danbi appeared at his side while he popped the cap off of a beer.
“Hi Danbi,” Hao smiled kindly at her. He had met Danbi through Jeonghan a while ago and for whatever reason, she had really taken a shine to him.
“Did you find the place alright?”
“Yes, YN’s instructions were very easy to follow.”
“Great! Let me know if there’s anyone here that you haven’t met yet, but I think you may know them all!”
Minghao nodded. Looking around the room, it did seem like he knew most of the attendees. Jeonghan and his girlfriend were flanked by a few of their other coworkers. By some miracle Seokmin and Seungcheol had both managed to find babysitters tonight, and so were able to attend with their wives, Hana and Danbi. Joshua was on another date, after he and YN had not managed to hit things off, so Jeonghan’s friend group was short just one of the usual count.
“Ha! Ha! Ha!” you laughed with Hoshi after winning yet another game of beer pong. You and he had been nearly undefeatable since college and it was nice to see that this hadn’t changed, even after he had moved away for a few years. “Oh pink?” you wondered aloud when you spotted Minghao chatting with Jeonghan over a beer.
“You’re here!” you interrupted their conversation easily, fingers itching to touch his pink hair. “Is this a fade out color?”
“Yes,” he laughed, “The murder scene every time I showered was starting to get old.”
“I can’t believe your hair hasn’t just fallen straight out of your head,” Jeonghan’s girlfriend shook her head with a laugh.
“Hah!” you laughed heartily, struggling to imagine Minghao bald.
“I’d love it if you didn’t curse me with this foul energy,” he rolled his eyes at all of you.
“Did you all see how I swept the floor with Seungcheol? Again?” you crowed excitedly to Jeonghan.
“Yes, yes, very good,” Jeonghan rolled his eyes at you. You were always such a braggart about pong.
“I can’t believe he lets you tease him like that,” Minghao gestured to Seungcheol incredulously.
“Ah, I’m a lovable scamp!” you shrugged, sticking your tongue out at your newest friend.
“That’s true,” Hao laughed, a soft smile crossing his face.
Jeonghan and his girlfriend both looked at Minghao with interest while your attention was pulled elsewhere. Danbi and Hana summoned you from across the room so you gave everyone a small wave before you left.
“So-,” Jeonghan opened his mouth to dig, but his girlfriend stopped him with a quick shake of her head. She knew Minghao would not respond to anything that direct, so it was best to meddle gently.
“What is it?” you asked once you were close enough to Danbi and Hana for them to hear you.
“We were wondering if Minghao had set you up on a successful date yet?” Hana asked, “If not, I actually met this kind of cool guy at the school yesterday.”
“Oh, no, not yet. I actually need to follow up with him on that,” you shook your head.
“Follow up? You’re being so project manager-y about this,” Hana laughed.
“I mean…it is a project that I’m managing,” you flushed, already knowing that you would say no to Hana’s proposed guy.
“Well, what do you think? He came to service the computers, so he works in IT. He’s tall, pretty broad, and has a very nice smile.”
“What’s his personality like?” you queried. It didn’t make any sense at all, but for whatever reason you felt guilty of the idea of being set by someone other than Minghao.
“I didn’t get to talk to him too much, but he seemed nice! He volunteers at an animal shelter.”
“Aww,” Danbi cooed excitedly.
“You’re going to make fun of me for saying this, but I don’t think I care,” you inhaled deeply before rejecting Danbi’s proposal. “It feels weird to think about going on a date with someone that Minghao doesn’t pick for me. So I kind of want to see how things play out with that?”
“I’m not going to make fun of you!” Danbi looked at you indignantly.
“I am!” Hana made a face at you, “You are so attached to him, like come on YN!” she gestured forcefully at you.
“Of course I’m attached to him, we’re friends!” you shrugged. “I’m attached to you doofuses too,” you gestured back with your palms up. Hana and Danbi laughed. Your love language was, indeed, teasing and they’d grown used to it long ago. You were watching them whisper to each other suspiciously before Danbi jutted her chin out, pointing at something behind you.
“Oh, JESUS!” you jumped after realizing Minghao was standing behind you. “Snuck up on me, fuckin’ hell,” you mumbled curses as you put a few paces between him and yourself.
“Let’s go play beer pong. Apparently you’re unstoppable and I need to witness this for myself,” he smirked, giving you a disbelieving once over.
“Don’t…,” you found yourself shivering under his gaze, “Look at me like that! I will win,” you let yourself think that you had recovered smoothly.
With each ball that Minghao sank into your cups, you stood up just a little straighter and your expression grew just a little more baffled. You’d never been in such a closely matched game of pong before and, honestly, you didn’t care for it.
“Hey, let’s make this more interesting,” Minghao spoke up when you were each down to one cup. You raised an eyebrow at him, gesturing for him to proceed with his idea. “If I win, I take you out on a date.”
“I-,” you choked, heart clogging your throat momentarily. “What?”
“For research purposes,” he clarified, triple checking his foot placement as he squared up his aim. “You can give me feedback and that’ll help me better tailor my matches for you in the future.” He launched the ball into the air and it sailed into your final cup easily.
“I-, wait,” you stuttered, partially in disbelief over your loss and partially for a reason that you weren’t able to identify yet. Your mouth opened and closed a few times before you could accept it.
“What, are you scared?” Minghao stepped towards you. He felt a perverse joy in the way you were reacting to his win. Something about seeing you flounder tickled his brain very specifically.
“You lost fair and square!” Soonyoung waved you off to make room for the next players.
“What exactly would I be scared of?” you blustered as Minghao herded you away from the table. “A date with you?”
“Scared you’ll like it,” he laughed, peering down at you, stepping into your personal space just slightly.
“Hah!” you let out a honking laugh. That was absurd, right? “Fine, take me out on our little date. I’m sure I’ll have plenty of feedback.”
“Great,” he grinned at you, patting you on the head condescendingly.
You were baffled. You could tell you were blushing and you weren’t really sure if you could just blame it on the beer pong loss. You snuck a glance at Minghao, whose attention was back on the party, watching Soonyoung trounce Seokmin quite soundly. He was right, you were terrified for this date.
…
“Ugh you look so cute!” Hana squealed excitedly, “It’s such a shame it’s just for a practice run!”
You chuckled. Sure, it was true that this date with Minghao was just for research purposes, but it hadn’t stopped you from thinking of it as if it were real.
‘wear a dress or skirt. something short or unrestricted at the bottom and shoes you can move in’ was all of the instruction that Minghao had given you.
“Maybe he’s taking you dancing?” Hana wondered aloud. “It’s kinda romantic that he’s keeping everything a surprise!”
“So romantic,” you parroted at her sarcastically.
You didn’t know why, but you felt quite nervous about this one. You had been on more than your fair share of first dates recently, so it really didn’t make sense to feel this way about the fake one. Probably just because everything was a surprise.
“Ya! Why am I nervous!?” you jumped up and down aggressively, shouting at yourself.
Hana shrugged, even though she knew the answer. Best to let you come to your own epiphany. She fretted and cooed the appropriate amount as she helped you finish your makeup and hair. You were satisfied when you looked in the mirror, but that didn’t make your armpits any less sweaty. Thank god for prescription grade antiperspirant.
“Ready?” Minghao greeted you at your door with a bouquet of flowers around half an hour later.
“I think,” you eyed him suspiciously, still irked that he hadn’t spilled a single clue about your activities.
“Put these in water so we can go!” he thrust the bouquet at you impatiently.
“Okay, okay,” you muttered. You scanned the blooms quickly and were pleased and surprised that all of them were cat safe. He’d remembered. You grabbed an empty jar and plunked the stems into it before returning to Minghao. “Is this outfit acceptable?” you paused to check, turning in a full circle so he could inspect.
“Yes,” he nodded, eyes full of something you couldn’t quite place, but it vanished just as quickly. “Now let’s go! We need to be on time.”
Minghao shepherded you into the car and drove towards your destination. You were, strangely, at a loss for words and so spent the time inspecting his car and marveled at how clean it was. Usually you couldn’t stop yourself from babbling about nonsense at him, but this simulated date seemed to have rendered you speechless. As he pulled into the parking lot, your eyes lit up reading the sign.
“Hana was right!” you grinned at him triumphantly. “It is dancing!”
“Yes,” he chuckled at your expression. It wasn’t like you were the one who had guessed right, but he’d never know that with the way you beamed at him. “Intro to Rumba! I thought it’d be fun to try something new together.”
“Rumba?” you thought hard. You weren’t well versed in ballroom dance styles, but the name rang a bell. You had definitely seen it on a ‘Something-est Things To Do With Your Partner’ kind of list. “I don’t know how to dance,” you whispered to Minghao as the other students filtered into the class.
“That’s why it’s fun,” he grinned down at you.
After beating you at beer pong last week, Minghao had been itching to get the upper hand on you again. While he wasn’t very skilled at ballroom, he did have some dance experience from his past. Rumba was also fairly sensual in nature and he would be lying if he said he wasn’t looking forward to watching you squirm and be flustered over it.
With your hands tucked behind your back, you watched intently as the instructors demonstrated the short routine that you would work on during class. You did your best to keep your cool, but you felt like everyone probably heard the sound of your loud gulp as you registered just how close together you would be with Minghao. There was probably technically some distance between the instructors, but not that you could see with the naked eye.
Minghao blinked a few times as he watched the demo with you. This was closer quarters than any other style of dance he had ever tried before and he wondered if he had made a mistake.
“Okay, right hand to left hand. Leading partner’s right hand on the following partner’s waist. Following partner’s left hand resting gently at the back of the leading partner’s neck,” the instructions came.
“Okay, right hand here, left hand here,” you muttered to yourself as Minghao clasped his left hand into your right and you hooked your left hand around the back of his neck. You managed to follow the first set of steps without tripping over yourself too spectacularly, but the next combination threw you for quite the loop.
“So now comes a sexy part,” the instructors grinned mischievously, “Leading is going to spin the following out and then pull them back in to face them. And then following partner is going to drop in a slow and sexy wiggle, their hand trailing down the leading partner’s chest.
Oh. Your lips pursed as your mind painted the mental picture of what that would look like. You resisted the urge to glance furtively at Minghao, pink rising in your cheeks.
Next to you, Minghao blinked. Once, twice, and then one more time for good measure. He had been so busy considering how this class might affect you that he hadn’t even thought of himself. The idea of you trailing your fingertips down the centerline of his chest made him want to shake his head furiously.
“Five, six, seven, eight!” The rapid counts snapped both of you out of your thoughts. “Spin out!”
You held onto Minghao’s fingers tightly as you spun away from him.
“Fancy arm!”
You flung your arm out theatrically and were inordinately pleased to make Minghao laugh.
“Now tuck your arm as you spin back in!” the instructions continued.
You bit your lip to keep from laughing before you brought your arm back to your center and spun into Minghao’s chest. Slowly, your hips drew figure eights as you worked your way down into a squat and your eyes followed your hand’s slow trail down his chest. Like watching a train wreck.
Minghao looked to the instructors for the next directions, desperate to be not looking at you. He wanted to groan. Even in this wordless touch, you were mischievous, not drawing straight down, but rather trailing a wavy line, timed with the movement of your hips on the way down.
“Now leading partner, you are going to pull them back up! Forceful! Dramatic! What are they doing down there? They’re up to no good!”
You had wanted to laugh, but when Minghao dragged you back up to your feet and looked deeply into your eyes…all of that went out the window. For a moment, the directions barked by the instructors faded into the background and all you could hear was a soft buzzing in your ears as you held his gaze.
“Very good, very good you two!” the instructors clapped excitedly as they walked towards you. “Tension! Eye contact! That’s what the rumba is all about, excellent!”
“Thank you!” You almost shouted. You were so excited to be able to rip your eyes away from Minghao that you plastered a wide grin across your face and gave an awkward thumbs up to the whole class.
“How do you do this dance without falling in love with each other?” another student wondered aloud.
“You don’t!” the instructor replied with a laugh. “Every so often you get a pair that falls in love and gets married, but in general you break up but you keep dancing together because you have good physical chemistry.”
“Yikes.” you turned to Minghao with a bemused look on your face. You were relieved to see that the tension seemed to have dissipated and he found your instructor’s comments as strange as you did. The rest of the class passed with relative ease, but the feel of his fingers resting at your waist and nipping into your hips certainly lingered longer than was ideal.
“What’d you think?” Minghao asked as he started driving to the next destination.
“That was fun,” you nodded after some consideration. “Definitely out of the box and a new experience for me. Also a very good way to gauge physical chemistry. Honestly a very good early date activity. Ten out of ten.”
He preened under your compliment. You wondered what your next activity would be, but knew that asking would get you nowhere, so you tried to fill your brain with other thoughts. After a while, you ran out of things to think about and your eyes decided to regard Minghao as he drove. His right hand lingered at the gearshift, fingers tapping every so often as his eyes stayed glued to the road. You shifted in your seat as you watched the tendons of his forearms flex in a very distracting way. The way he looked when he was focused was…unfortunately attractive.
Minghao could feel your eyes on him as he drove. He struggled to keep his attention on the road as his mind played back snippets from class. Namely, the moment when he had pulled you back up to your feet and locked eyes with you for just a little too long. Your eyes had widened and your lips had parted just slightly as you gazed back up at him and rational thought had almost left him completely.
“No, Minghao! Really?!” you squealed excitedly as he pulled into the parking lot of the botanical garden. “You remembered!”
“Of course,” he nodded, parking the car. You had mentioned the Poisonous Plants special exhibit off-handedly a few weeks ago and he had filed it away in his brain. He liked the botanical garden too.
“Look how beautiful!” you gasped as you looked at the Atropa belladonna, or Deadly Nightshade. “I can’t believe a flower this beautiful is also poison! Isn’t that cool? Such a good name too.”
Minghao chuckled. You were making your little frog face again. He didn’t know if he thought of poison as cool, but he enjoyed seeing your excitement over such a morbid topic. The expression you made when you were enthralled by something was painfully endearing to him.
“Thank you for bringing me here,” you wrapped your arms around him excitedly as you headed towards the exit archway of the garden.
“You’re welcome,” Minghao was surprised by your sudden physical affection. “You’re such a nerd, I’m glad you had a good time,” he teased as his arms folded around your waist naturally.
You wrinkled your nose at him playfully. You couldn’t help the slight hitch in your breath before you pulled away, looping your arm in his happily as you walked through the other areas of the garden. This closeness grew less and less foreign as the day went on and was directly correlated to your concern for your own sanity.
…
“So…what do you think?” Minghao inquired after you had settled in at your table at a rooftop restaurant and bar. He really enjoyed the ambiance here and thought you’d enjoy the food as well.
“Of?” you replied blankly, having been busy reading over the menu.
“Our date?” his brows creased together, he had not been expecting that response.
“Oh! Good! Really good, actually,” you nodded, trying to speak of it in a detached way. “You did a really good job picking activities and this restaurant. This menu is so interesting! But at the same time, I feel like you are at an unfair advantage because you know me pretty well by now. I don’t think this is a reasonable expectation to have for a first blind date. I also probably wouldn’t agree to so many things in one day with them, because what if we didn’t hit it off? Also wouldn’t let them drive me because what if they’re a murderer?”
“You think I’d set you up with a murderer?”
“You never know,” you shook your finger at him playfully, “People are full of surprises, unfortunately.”
Minghao watched you as you watched the sunset. He agreed with you, this had been a really good date. For whatever reason, you had leaned into the physical affection at the botanical garden and it had made his brain go haywire. He found that he not only didn’t want this date to end, but he wanted a second and a third (maybe to infinity) with you. He wanted to watch you try really hard at things that you had never done before and wanted to watch you make your little cartoon frog face when you were delighted by something.
“What?” you asked, turning back to meet Minghao’s lingering gaze.
“Nothing. I’m just having a really great time with you today,” he smiled back.
Your smile faltered as your heart pounded. You searched his face for some hint that he was teasing you, like usual, but it wasn’t there.
“Minghao!” an excited voice pulled your attention away suddenly. You turned to see two men, one tall and muscular and the other slighter and shorter.
“Mingyu, Jae,” Minghao waved at them easily, “Coworkers,” he explained to you as they approached. “This is YN.”
“Oh, are you on a date?” the taller man’s eyes flitted between you and Minghao, slowly coming to a realization.
“Wait no. YN. No, they’re not dating!” the other man interjected as he connected his brain cells, “Jeonghan told me about this! You two have been setting each other up on dates, right? Or something like that?”
“That’s right,” you laughed, “So sorry, who’s Mingyu and who’s Jae?”
“Ah, sorry, yes,” Minghao chuckled, “Mingyu and Jae,” he gestured towards them respectively.
“Nice to meet you,” you smiled, unable to help the way your eyes raked over Mingyu. He was your exact physical type and his eyes sparkled obviously at you when he talked.
“Well, we’ll get out of your hair! We were on our way out,” Jae nodded at you after not too long.
“I hope to see you again sometime,” Mingyu smiled at you, leaning down for another handshake before they left. Minghao bristled.
“Him,” you turned to Minghao, oblivious to his irritation. “Set me up with him, he’s my exact type!”
“Mingyu?” Minghao’s nose wrinkled slightly. “You don’t even know him.”
“He’s so hot though,” you exhaled theatrically, not really caring what his personality was like when he had a body like that. “That’s what a blind date is for, right? Blind to the red flags that I don’t want to see.”
Minghao scoffed at your absurdity. On the one hand, Mingyu was a perfectly nice guy. Maybe too eager and bubbly for you, but he trusted that he could treat you well. On the other hand, he had just been grappling with the idea of wanting you for himself, so the two sides of his brains clashed violently and he really had no explanation for the next word that left his mouth.
“Beg.”
“Excuse me?” you must have misheard him.
“Beg me. And I’ll set you up with him,” he leaned back, smirk playing across his lips as he teased you mercilessly.
“P-please?” you stuttered, thighs pressing together inexplicably at the look on his face.
“Cuter,” he goaded you, tongue tracing across his lips as the flush rose in your cheeks. Your heart threatened to stop.
“Hao, please?” your eyes became doe-like and your lower lip pouted out just slightly. You didn’t even know why you were humoring him, you’d never let a man make you beg for anything before.
“There, see? That wasn’t so hard,” he sat back up, clearing his throat slightly as he glanced away. “I’ll set it up,” he nodded, heart sinking in his chest.
“Great,” you smiled, chest feeling tight. Your heart was racing.
…
You found yourself perplexed and kicking a small pebble down the sidewalk after your date with Mingyu. It wasn’t that it had gone poorly, no in fact just the opposite. You were surprised that he had even been available to be set up because he was, on paper, perfect. He was funny, sweet, eager and all in that body? It was simply unfair.
No, the thing that you were confused and frustrated about was that you didn’t really want to go on another date with him. For whatever reason, the only feeling you could muster for him was a lukewarm fondness and it really made you mad. Typically, you would call Minghao to debrief, but you were mad at him too! Your date with him last week was the reason the bar was so unreasonably high now, after all.
“Damn,” you sighed to yourself as you gave the poor pebble another swift kick.
…
Minghao glanced at his phone, irritated to see that you still hadn’t messaged him with any updates. Dinner had to be over by now, right? Normally you at least snuck away to text him from the bathroom, so for his phone to be this dry could only be a sign that the date had gone well. Probably too well.
[mingyu]: ‘dude! YN is wonderful! thank you for setting this up!’
[hao]: ‘ah, so it went well?’
[mingyu]: ‘i think so! she’s cool as hell man’
[mingyu]: ‘she makes such a cute face when she gets excited’
Minghao saw red for a moment. The intensity of his jealousy caught him by surprise and he had to reign himself in before he replied to Mingyu’s text.
[hao]: ‘yeah, i like her too, lol’
Minghao threw his phone onto the sofa. Stupid idiot.
…
[hao]: ‘are you ever going to admit defeat or are you going to just ignore me forever?’
You had been doom scrolling in bed when his text appeared and before you knew it, you were calling him.
“Hey,” his voice was soft when he picked up. The way his heart had jumped when he’d seen your incoming call was unreasonable.
“Hi,” you greeted him, your voice sounded small.
“So…,” Minghao waffled. He didn’t really want to talk about Mingyu, but he wasn’t really sure what else to talk to you about. “Mingyu said he liked you.”
“Oh, did he?” you chuckled, “He seems like the type of person that likes everyone.”
Hao laughed because you weren’t wrong.
“It went well, though, right?” He wished that, like all the other dates, this one had been a dud too.
“It was okay,” you shrugged, “I don’t see myself going on another date with him though, to be honest. He’s a little too…I don’t know?” you trailed off trying to explain.
“Oh?” Minghao’s voice piqued with interest, “Well I’m starting to run out of friends,” he joked.
“I don’t think I want you to set me up with any more of your friends,” you sighed. “No more first dates for a while, I think.”
Minghao froze as he saw his opening. He knew he would forever be kicking himself if he didn’t take the shot now.
“Are you home?”
“Yes?”
“Okay, I’m in the middle of errands, but I’ll be there in ten. I have to ask you something in person.”
“Oh okay.”
Minghao didn’t leave much more room for discussion as he hung up and turned the car around, driving towards your place. You checked your appearance nervously as you waited.
[hao]: ‘here’
Your pulse pounded in your ears as you opened the door for him, more nervous now than you had been for your date.
“Hi,” he greeted you from under a black baseball cap. It was annoying how he looked so good in it. “Can I come in?”
“No,” you joked as you opened the door for him.
“So no more first dates, does that mean you’re officially tapping out of our game?” he asked, looking down at you.
“N-,” your instinct was to push back, but he was right this time. “I mean, yes, I guess so. I’m tired of this meeting people business, I just want to spend time with people that I already like.”
“Would that include me?” he grinned, stepping towards you and until you backed into the kitchen counter.
“I-, I have mixed feelings about you,” you answered honestly, unable to meet his gaze.
“Can I take you out on a second date?” he ducked his head towards yours, hands coming to rest at your hips.
“I-,” you squeezed your eyelids together. In the past you would’ve panicked, but this closeness was now familiar to you and you only wanted to sink into it further. “Maybe you should beg this ti-,” you raised your brows, flicking your eyes mischievously to his.
“Ah!” Minghao cut you off sternly. “I’d think twice about that.”
“But-,” you couldn’t help yourself.
He cut you off with a firm grip at the base of your throat. His longer fingers tapped against the side of your neck as he regarded you sternly. “Will you behave?”
You knew you should say yes. Part of you might have even wanted to say yes, but you were you to your core. “Maybe.”
“We’ll just have to see, won’t we?” he teased you in a sing-songy voice. “Where’s your bedroom?”
“There,” you pointed to a door towards your right. Without so much as a warning, you found yourself being hauled and plunked onto the edge of your bed.
“You have been driving me crazy for months, so let’s see if I can return the favor,” he looked down at you, tongue poking in his cheek.
“Months?” you wondered, thighs squeezing together nervously.
“Yes, months,” Minghao reached out and patted you on the cheek condescendingly. “So picky and difficult about every single person that I set you up with. Were you doing it on purpose or did you really not notice?”
“Not on purpose! They just…,” you trailed off sheepishly.
“What’s that? Speak up.”
“They sucked cause you’re bad at picking,” you squinted at him defiantly. You hated that you loved the way he was treating you.
“Try again?” he grabbed you around the jaw, his fingertips pressing your lips into an unflattering fish face. You could see in his eyes that he wouldn’t humor you for much longer.
“They weren’t you,” came your muffled reply, your lips moving in an exaggerated manner between his long fingers.
“One more time?” Minghao’s eyes danced at you, fingers relinquishing their grip. He wanted to hear it again, clearly.
“They weren’t you!” you replied, sickeningly sweetly eyes creasing into sarcastic half moons as you smiled at him.
“Tch,” he scoffed, pushing you back onto the bed and climbing over you. “You are so difficult,” he shook his head as his eyes raked across you, admiring your shape. “You’re lucky I like you.”
You let out a simpering sigh as his lips nibbled from just behind your earlobe down to your collarbone. His teeth nipped roughly as his fingertips trailed from your knee to your hip and gripped tightly.
“Hao,” you sighed, “Kiss me?”
“Hmm, do you deserve that?” he rebutted, pulling back to look in your eyes.
“Please?” you pouted, tugging at the front of his shirt. “I’ll be good.”
“Somehow I don’t believe you,” he laughed, his lips grazing yours.
“Minghao, please,” you insisted and he indulged you.
Minghao brought his lips to yours, kissing you thoroughly. His hands kneaded possessively at your hip as you nipped at his lips. Your kisses were peppered with soft moans and exaltations.
“You make such desperate sounds,” he teased appreciatively. You flushed at his description, but he wasn’t wrong. “Lay back and let me appreciate you,” he pressed a kiss to your temple before helping you undress completely.
Starting at the bottom of the bed, he trailed soft, plush kisses from your ankles to your knees and then from your knees to your hips. He nipped, bit, and sucked his way up your inner thighs until you were glistening and slick for him. His fingers pried your legs apart, allowing him to taste you for the first time.
“Hao!” your thighs closed instinctively around his ears as he lapped long, leisurely strokes with his tongue. You heard him chuckle as he gripped above your knees, holding you open for him. He teased you with his hot breath, enjoying watching you shift and writhe, just for him.
“So gorgeous,” he rested his cheek against your thigh for a moment, enjoying the way your chest heaved with shallow breaths as you came down from the edge for the second time.
“Ming-hao!” you squealed as he brought his lips back around your clit, sucking with a torturous pressure. “I-, I-, I,” you malfunctioned, hand gripping his hair tightly as you came hard against his lips.
“Very good,” he grinned up at you, his lips and chin glossy with your slick. “Can I finger you now?”
“I mean, yes?” you laughed nervously, a little concerned at what his hands would be able to achieve after experiencing his mouth alone.
“Don’t cum until I say so,” he directed as his fingertips slid through your wet folds. “You are so wet,” he commented offhandedly as he pressed two fingers in a v-shape against you, squeezing around your swollen clit. Your mouth formed a silent ‘o’ shape as he ground his fingers against you, avoiding direct contact where you wanted it most.
“Hao,” you cried, hand resting around his wrist as you squirmed helplessly under him. “Why are you torturing me?!”
Minghao paused for a moment. He supposed he was going a bit more out of his way to undo you than was typical for him. It wasn’t fair, but his pent up jealousy was manifesting and you were there to pay the price.
“Are you telling me you don’t like it?” he asked, cocking his head at you.
“Well, no,” you blushed, sinking into the pillow shyly.
“Then let me torture you a bit, sweetheart,” he grinned sweetly at you, fingers pinching together firmly around your clit again. “You’re so incredibly wet, just for me?” he marveled rhetorically as he slid two fingers into you, parting your wet, warm walls.
“Yes,” you nodded, pressing your hips up to meet him. You rolled your hips, desperate for as much as he would give. “More,” you begged until he added a third finger, stretching you slightly.
“Look at you,” Hao cooed appreciatively, nipping at your upper thigh as he stroked his fingers in and out of your deeply. The scrape of his teeth oversensitized you suddenly and you became a whimpering, desperate mess quickly.
“Hao, please, darling,” you clutched at him urgently, “I need, please let me cum!”
“Cum for me, darling,” he cooed the pet name back at you as he kept up the pace until you had collapsed into a pile of mush for him. “So good,” he praised you, pressing soft kisses along your jaw as you recomposed yourself.
“Blurple?” you asked, now that you had the presence of mind to register his hair color. “This is pretty,” you grinned, running your fingers through the colorful strands.
“You’re pretty,” he nuzzled you gently, fingertips trailing across the underside of your breasts.
“Oh,” you flushed.
“You are.”
“You are…wearing too many clothes,” you observed impishly, fingers tugging at his waistband. He laughed as he helped you shrug off his layers.
“How would you like me?”
Minghao visibly thought as he slipped on a condom. “You would look absolutely gorgeous on top of me, riding me,” he smiled.
You flushed, grinning at his flowery praise as you straddled his hips, grinding yourself along his length. Your hands splayed across his chest and you took a moment to admire his lithe physique. “So handsome,” you whispered before lowering yourself onto him slowly.
“Fuck,” he hissed as you took him in completely. The tendons in his neck were taut as you drew back up and back down.
“You feel good, Hao,” you breathed, holding onto him for support as your hips found a comfortable rhythm. Each stroke, each intrusion made you shudder with pleasure and the wet sounds were joined by your soft moans and Minghao’s tense hisses.
“You feel incredible, petal,” he grabbed you tightly around the ribcage, bringing you down on him with slightly more force. You faltered at the additional impact.
“I’m so close,” you leaned forward, looking directly into Minghao’s eyes. Nodding, he gripped your hips, grinding your clit against his pubic crest as he bucked up, deeply, into you.
“Come with me, YN,” he coaxed breathlessly. The way he purred your name undid you. An anguished wail left your lips as you clenched around him, triggering his release as well.
“So did I earn a second date?” Minghao teased as he folded you into his chest, cuddling you closely.
“I think you might have,” you grinned up at him, pressing a soft kiss to his nose.
“Danbi is going to be happy when she finds out about this,” Minghao chuckled into your hair.
“Oh we’re never going to hear the end of it,” you moaned. “Maybe let’s no-”
“Ah,” he reached to press your jaw shut and you stilled. You delighted at this subtle, domineering action. Quite a match indeed.
#minghao fic#svthub#minghao fluff#minghao smut#the8 fic#the8 smut#the8 fluff#seventeen fic#seventeen smut#seventeen fluff#minghao imagine#minghao scenario#the8 imagine#the8 scenario#seungkwansphd:writes#we get along infamously#minghao fanfic#the8 fanfic
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Infatuation
Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader
MDI!! 18+
Part 2 <3
Warnings: Heavy drinking, mentions of opium use, mentions of prostitution, rough sex, fingering, oral sex, semi-public sex, squirting, marking, thigh riding, vaginal sex, dom benedict and sub reader, brief spanking, possessive benedict, LOTS of dirty talk
A.N: hi again, i'm back on my bullshit <3 first of all, thank you so very much for the love on my first Benny fic AND my first fic ever. liiiiike seriously, that was so sweet <3 T-T. anyway, this fic is another Benny fic- a smutty one at that. it is vaguely based off of the infamous party where Ben has his threesome, however, i changed it up quite a bit so take it at face value hehe. i am planning on making an Anthony one next, probably some more filth so I can practice getting my wording to a place i am proud of. also, i think i will maybe make this into a series??? so do let me know if you like it so i can get an idea >.< enjoy, ily, and THANK YOU AGAIN <3 ^-^
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You were never one to go to parties, especially the ones your dear friend Genevieve Delacroix invited you to. She had a knack for finding the most raunchy, wanton, artists who would throw parties full of courtesans, sex, opium, alcohol... the whole of it.
Being a maid for such a wealthy and well-known family, the Featherington's to be exact, meant you knew the secret lives that many lords and ladies lead outside of the stuffy confines of the ballrooms.
You were lucky to be the lady's maid of the sweetest Featherington, Penelope, and therefore you were even luckier to hear about the Bridgerton family. From what she told you, they were all kind and polite, just like anyone else. She had also hinted, quite shyly, to the men of the family being gorgeous. The third born being her favorite.
You had seen glimpses of pearly white teeth, dark blue tailcoats, and their chestnut brown hair but were never lucky enough to see a full image of any of them but Eloise and her sister, Daphne.
When Genevieve insisted on you tagging along with her and a friend from a higher-up place, you begrudgingly accepted. It was lucky that the young debutante you worked for insisted on having something important to do, so you snuck out and walked through the streets of London to the modiest's shop.
Genevieve dressed you in a tight but, incredibly beautiful, dark blue corset and a pair of black pants, to which you raised an eyebrow. "I look as if I am soliciting, not as if I am curious about this party you have been nagging me to go to." You comment, looking in the mirror.
"What if you solicit, hm? Where is the harm in spending a night with a lord or even another servant?" She returns, tightening up the laces on the corset before stepping back and looking over her work. "Besides, look at yourself. You have a body that would make any one of those silly debutantes jealous, why not show it?" She grins.
You sigh and turn to her, a small cheeky smile on your face as a result of her teasing. "You owe me for this, Viv." You tease and she laughs, putting on her cloak as she hands you your own. "There she is. The Y/N I know. We will have fun, I swear it." She says. Once your cloak is tugged over your shoulders, the both of you make your way out of the shop and towards the house where the party is being held.
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Benedict never snuck out, not before he got invited to Lord Granville's house. The man was nice enough about him completely insulting his art to his face, nice enough to recognize an artistic eye and even the hint of talent that Benedict possessed through merely speaking about art. He thought the gathering was going to be one where he would meet artists and practice his craft. He was wrong.
Of course, he was experienced in the world of sex, drugs, and drinking. He attended the gentleman's club with his brothers after almost every ball he attended, much like every other lord in the ton. He has shared his number of passion-filled nights with nameless women, some of which he cannot remember. The only remenice being the ache of a hangover, and the taste of expensive whiskey still lingering on his tongue.
He would have never thought that the artist had such a scene hiding behind such an unassuming townhouse.
He followed the artist in and was met with quite the scene. The room was hazy with the smoke of expensive cigars, the candlelight casting a low gold hue on the entire house. He followed the artist deeper and was met with courtesans soliciting men at every turn, to which he grinned.
Even further and he was led into a room where women were posed naked, in quite compromising positions, for eager artists who were trying to master the anatomy of a naked woman. Or so that is what Granville claimed.
He grins crookedly at the sight. "Quite the room, is it not?" Lord Granville piques up from behind him. He turns to face the man and nods. "Quite. Might I stay here? I have found myself needing practice of anatomy as of late and this is the perfect place to do so." He says, a playful glint in his eye.
Granville, of course, picks up on it and nods. "Of course, Lord Bridgerton. Do enjoy yourself." He returns with a knowing smile and a wink before exiting the room. Benedict sits at one of the free easles, one of the other men lighting a cigar and offering it to him. He accepts, and puffs on it as he begins to work.
He could get used to this.
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Genevieve leads you through the party, grabbing two glasses of what looks like scotch off of a passing servant's tray. She settles for meeting her friend, who you quickly learn is the wife of said artist who is throwing the party, on the stairs.
After a while of chatting you learn that the young woman's name is Lucy and her husband is Henry Granville, an artist whose work you always found interesting. You also are clued into the fact that their marriage is one of convenience, rather than love, as Lord Granville has no romantic nor sexual interest towards the opposite sex. You find no issue in what the young couple has, after all, you have seen much worse when it comes to marriages in the ton.
"Viv, might I go explore, or am I to only solicit?" You tease as you push off the wall. She laughs and shakes her head. "I am not your keeper, Y/N. Go and do as you wish, just be careful." She says, a hint of genuine protectiveness seeping through her tone of voice. "I promise. I will find my way back to your shop if anything goes awry." You assure before walking down the steps with a quick wave to both of the women.
You duck into a small room with a door that leads to a balcony after grabbing another glass of scotch from a passing servant. However fun it is coming to these things with Viv, you find them quite overwhelming. You are more attuned to the quietness of your servant's quarters, spending countless hours curled up with a good book that your young mistress so generously gifts you from time to time.
You walk out on the balcony, leaning heavily on the metal railing as you look up at the stars. The scotch, and the fact that you get much drunker much quicker than most, is making a delightfully warm feeling bloom in your chest. You take a deep breath of the fresh air to calm your senses before ducking back into the party.
You make it all of two steps before colliding into a broad chest, which sends your alcohol down the front of your torso.
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He was in that hazy, alcohol-filled room, long enough to get just drunk enough to where he was clumsy. He catches the woman he so foolishly clambered into on his way out of the room he was painting in by the waist, which sends her drink out of her hand and down her front.
"My God, I am so incredibly sorry my lady." He rushes, gazing down at the mess he made. His eyes widen at the sight that lies in front of him.
She's a young woman, young enough that she can not be past the age of two and twenty, in a very revealing corset top and black pants. Her hair is tucked up elegantly, yet a few unruly waves have fallen as a result of the night's activities. Her cheeks are pink, probably from the embarrassment or perhaps even the anger, of getting drenched in scotch.
The liquid drips down her neck, and he follows a drop from her neck to where it travels right between her breasts. The tops are peaking out from being hugged so tight. They are full, so very full. He wonders what it would feel like to run his tongue over the smooth skin, what it would feel like to roll her nipple between his teeth and suck.
He shakes himself out of it and meets her eyes once more before he gets any more aroused than he already is.
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You recognize him immediately as a Bridgerton, though you have no idea which one. He has a silly crooked smile on his face that you cannot seem to draw your eyes from, he also sports the undoubtedly Bridgerton chestnut brown hair.
He has longer hair than the one Penelope speaks of, but only just. Your eyes roam from his face to his chest, where he is wearing only a loose undershirt, his waistcoat long forgotten in drunken activities you're sure. His suspenders hang loose on his shoulders, just barely hanging onto his black trousers.
"You're a Bridgerton." It slips out of your mouth before you can stop it, the effects of three glasses of scotch. He grins wider, chuckling a bit. The noise makes your entire body heat up. "I am. Benedict Bridgerton in fact." He says, his eyes never straying from yours.
"And you are?" He ponders after a moment of silence from you. You jump at the question, having been too distracted by the look of his lips to even notice he was speaking. You clear your throat and adjust your posture. "Y/N L/N." You answer shyly.
"Well, Y/N L/N, can I take you to a room and clean up the mess I made of your top, or is that entirely too forward for a gentleman to ask within mere moments of meeting?" He grins, the alcohol he consumed only ebbing on his already large confidence when it comes to women. You only nod shyly, afraid that if you speak you will make a stuttering fool of yourself.
He offers an arm, which you take happily, and begins to lead you through the party.
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He pulls you into a room and, almost immediately, his hands encompass your waist. "You... are the most stunning woman I have ever had the pleasure of looking at." He murmurs, sending your heart soaring. You rest your hand on his chest, newly emboldened by the liquid courage you have been sipping on the entire night, returning his cheeky smile. "Is it too forward for a lady to say the same within mere moments of meeting?" You return.
He lets out a chuckle when you parrot his past words and he leans down. "A witty woman as well as a beautiful one, what else do you have up your sleeve Miss L/N?" He purrs, running a flattened hand up your back until it meets your hair. He tugs it down from its pins, sending it tumbling over your shoulders.
"Perhaps, if you are lucky Mister Bridgerton, I shall show you." You whisper, leaning in so your lips are but a hair's width away from his. Something dangerous and incredibly intoxicating passes over his features as he lets out a noise, a growl, that causes your core to dampen.
"You are a very forward woman, Y/N. I find it quite... infatuating to say the very least." He whispers before capturing your lips. You close your eyes and tangle one of your hands in his thick hair, the other finding his collar and giving it a slight tug.
He groans into your mouth, his hands enveloping your bum cheeks and pulling you even closer. He wants to feel the rise and fall of your breasts as he makes you pant. And by god does he.
You moan into his mouth as his hands squeeze the soft skin of your ass through your trousers, which gives him the perfect chance to slip his tongue into your mouth. He tastes smoky, like cigars and whiskey. It makes your clit throb painfully.
As if reading your mind, and body, he spreads your legs with his knee and slides his leg between them. His thigh presses against your closed cunt and you gasp, breaking the kiss to throw your head back. He smirks and holds you right where you are by moving his hands to your hips.
"So sensitive." He whispers and groans as you begin to move your hips back and forth against his thigh, chasing the feeling it gives you. "Fuck, you are just full of surprises aren't you darling? I did not even have to tell you what to do, you just did it," He praises, his eyes locked on the place where your clothed core meets his leg.
"Riding my thigh like a bitch in heat. I might have to keep you." He gusts over your shoulder as he begins to kiss the exposed skin there. Oh God, how you would love that. To be able to fuck him whenever you saw fit, yes please Mister Bridgerton. "Please." Is all you manage to strangle out as you begin to grind down on him harder.
He bites down on your shoulder, leaving a bright red mark there, which he smirks at before he slowly guides you to the dark red chaise that lies in the corner of the room. He lays you back, slowly unlacing your corset with his slender fingers. He throws it across the room when it is off, his mouth immediately taking in one of your hardened nipples.
You cry out when he sucks, watching him look up at you with a shit-eating grin that makes your cunt even more soaked than it already is. He sucks and bites your bud before turning his attention to the other, giving it just as much attention. "The least I can do is clean up the mess I made." He whispers over your nipple, the vibrations sending waves of pleasure straight down to your core. Cocky bastard, you think to yourself as you grip his hair.
You are a whimpering, moaning mess by the time his face returns over yours. He presses a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss to your lips before sitting up and stripping himself of his suspenders and his shirt before returning his attention to you. He takes off your shoes and then unbuttons your trousers, slowly sliding them down your legs.
He groans lewdly at the sight. Genevieve had insisted quite heavily when she was dressing you up that you forgo panties. She said it made trousers more comfortable, less tight, so of course you agreed. You decide tonight, that if wearing no underwear will illicit that pretty noise from his lips, you will never wear them again.
"God you are soaked. Drenched from riding my thigh and a quick suck to your nipples." He whispers as he kisses the insides of your thighs. You whine and buck your hips up toward his face, which results in him quickly grabbing your hips with one of his hands and pressing you down into the cushion so you are unable to buck and writhe. "Perhaps I was right in my assessment of you, Miss Y/N. You really are just a bitch in heat. So desperate to be full of my cock, painted with my seed." He murmurs before licking a stripe up your slit.
You cry out and grip his hair with both hands, needing something to ground yourself as his tongue swirls around your clit. He lets out a growl at the taste of your dripping cunt, so sweet and yet so tart. Utter perfection. The noise you make in return has him wishing he could drink from your body for the rest of his days, die with you sat atop his face. Riding his mouth to oblivion.
He moves his hand down to his trousers, fumbling with the buttons to free his aching cock. He slides two fingers into your body without warning and you keen, your eyes rolling back as he collects your juices. He pulls his fingers out just as quick as they went in, and spreads your wetness on his length, stroking himself hard as he drinks from you.
"Ben... oh fuck.... so close." You babble as his tongue presses inside your hole, drawing the most heavenly noises from your body. He pulls away just as you start to see stars and you grasp at his hands, tears forming in your eyes from your denied release. "Please... Please..." You sob, desperate for the feeling to come back.
He chuckles deeply, hooking your knees over his shoulders. "I've got you, love." He assures, kissing away your tears before pulling back with a cocky grin that sends your heart fluttering. "You look like a masterpiece, crying for my cock. All flushed and swollen." He murmurs. You do not know if he is talking about you or your pussy, but you never wish for him to stop.
"Please, my lord. Please, please... I need you. I need..." You babble, completely free of any thought other than his pretty dick plunging inside of you. He curses and bends down, claiming your lips with his before thrusting into you without warning. He bottoms out, and both of you moan, the kiss becoming a mess of tongue and tooth alike.
He begins at a brutal pace, slamming into you so hard that the chaise creeks against the hardwood floor. You scream at the heavenly feeling of pain and pleasure, the sound muffled over his lips. Sweat splashes from his collarbone to yours as the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, the sickly sweet smell of sex enveloping your senses.
He grunts and breaks the kiss, holding one of your legs by the calf, his other hand cupping your jaw. Your mouth falls open as soon as his lips are gone, a loud moan coming from somewhere deep within slipping out before you can try and stop it. He grunts and sticks his thumb past your lips, afraid that someone will hear from outside the thin walls.
You happily oblige and close your lips around his digit, swirling your tongue around him to the rhythm of his thrusts. He moans at the sight of you sucking on his thumb like it's a cock, as his cock slams into your pretty pussy. "Fuck. I am keeping you. You are mine," He accentuates the word with a slap to your ass cheek, causing you to cry out over his finger and clench down on his cock. "Forever. No one else will ever-fuck.-be able to fill this sweet hole of yours. It is all mine. You are all mine." He grunts as his thrusts become sloppy.
He yanks his thumb from your mouth and attacks your swollen, throbbing, clit. He rubs it hard and fast, to match the rhythm of his thrusts and you cry out. He quickly intuits that you are as close to climax as he is and bends down, covering your lips with his own so that you can scream freely.
You do as he expected, letting out a long scream into his mouth as stars rush over your vision and your body burns hot. Your juices soak both his pant-covered leg and the velvety fabric of the chaise below. The feeling of your fluttering cunt tightening even further sends him over and he releases deep inside you before he goes limp over your body.
He pushes himself up after a moment, relishing in the sight below him. Your cheeks are flushed, lips swollen and bruised. You have a bite mark on your shoulder, your hair surrounding your head like a messy halo. Perfection. A ruined, beautiful, masterpiece made solely by him.
He brushes the hair out of your face and presses a sweet kiss to your brow. "Might I be privy to those many secrets you were so keen on hiding, Miss L/N?" He teases softly, grabbing a handkerchief from his pocket and beginning to clean the mess of mixed juices on your thighs.
You giggle. "The next time we meet, I promise to tell at least one." You return, your heart fluttering at the way he so delicately slides your trousers back over your legs after cleaning you up. He grins as he buttons them up, his hands encompassing your waist to pull you up to a sitting position.
You use the opportunity to wrap your arms around his neck, and it is his turn to laugh. "Next time, then. I will wait with held breath until then, I assure you." He whispers, helping you into your corset. "But for now, I owe you a lovely night, hm?" He murmurs as he pulls the laces of your corset tight. You sigh and nod. "I would like that very much." You whisper back, resting your head on his shoulder.
He smiles cheekily, "Is it entirely too forward for a gentleman to say he would like to do this every night from now on, mere hours after meeting?" He whispers in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.
No, Mister Bridgerton, it is not.
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This is from Star Trek Wholesome Posting on Facebook.
And because it's a FAQ, here's the story of The Infamous Clown Sweater, as I told someone who asked there:
"I did this fundraiser for EFF in San Francisco in ... 2001? 2002? Something like that. It was at DNA Lounge, and after we were done, this person came up to me with this horrific sweater (jumper, for you non-Americans). They told me it was part of The Infamous Clown Sweater Project. What's that, I asked. They told me they are getting as many people as possible to wear it and pose for a photo, which they would then upload to their webpage -- not website, webpage, because it was 2001 or so -- for all to see.
"Of *course* I was down for it, and that face I'm making in the first photo is my very real reaction to the _awful_ stank that was just infused in the acrylic fibers.
"The second picture is from a con about ... 2014? Something like that, based on how I look. Someone actually made their own version of that horrible sweater for me. One arm is too long, on purpose, the neck is all stretched out, on purpose, and it fits poorly, on purpose. It's so damn funny to me, and it came along at a moment when we were doing this "then and now" thing on Twitter (before the fascists took over).
"I still have the second sweater. I have no idea what happened to the original. Last time I checked, the website that hosted all those pictures -- so old it was manually coded in html, predating even Flickr -- was lost to the sands of time.
"But it never fails to make me smile when this picture comes back around. It reminds me of a specific time, when there was just so much hope for the online future we were all building."
And for those of you who are too young to know what Riker giving Wesley his "fondest wish" is, well ...
Wesley wanted to grow up to be a blue-eyed blond who I'm pretty sure the costume designer wanted to fuck?
GEORDI! You're not helping!
Look. I love you, Commander Riker, but ... you're gonna want to try again. Wesley's fondest wish rhymes with "marathon betazoid orgy on risa".
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over the phone 𐙚 sungchan & eunseok
warnings. dom!eunseok, dom!sungchan, phone sex, unprotected sex, voyeurism, cream pie, praise, male masturbation.
wc. 2.4k
summary. whilst you and your best friend eunseok are in bed together, he gets a call from your other best friend sungchan…. basically eunseok fucks you whilst sungchan talks to you over the phone.
2.4k in under 10 hours, melobin is back?
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eunseok was rough with you, he always had been, from the time you two started sleeping together till now, he was rough. he couldn’t help it, the way you pranced around all sweetly all day with none of your peers knowing the filthy things he would do to you when you were alone drove him insane. sure, around other eunseok was one of your best friends, but between you two he was the man who drove you insane one intense orgasm at a time.
you weren’t aware that sungchan knew of your arrangement with eunseok. whilst sungchan was your other bestfriend and made up the infamous trio that the three of you were in, you had left him out of the loop of this areangment, so it came as a shock to you when eunseok dropped it in conversation.
“what do you mean he knows?”
“he called me last time i was here didn’t he? you think he didn’t hear you? you aren’t quiet baby” you narrowed your eyes at eunseok, reminiscing the time sungchan had called him up whilst he was buried inside of you. eunseok had decided he wasn’t going to stop even though he was on the phone, simply telling you that it was up to you to keep yourself quiet and that he wasn’t going to help you. at the time you had thought you were doing a good job, but now you guess that wasn’t the case.
“that doesn’t explain nothing” eunseok shrugged and leaned back against your headboard, eyes trailing along your body as if he was more focused on something other than the conversation at hand.
“he asked if we were fucking and i said yes, is that what you wanted to hear?” you weren’t exactly against sungchan being aware of what was going on, you just weren’t sure on how he’d react “he didn’t say too much about it, he just nodded and said he assumed as much” eunseok brought his hands forward to grab your hips from where you were knelt in front of him, he pulled you onto his lap before squeezing your hips. your arms went around his neck, fingers lacing through the strands of his hair.
“guess anyone can see with the way you’re constantly trying to grab my ass in public” at your words his hands fell to your ass, being able to grab at it with ease because of the fact you only wore an oversized shirt, your panties being the only thing covering your skin.
“can you blame me?” his fingers dug into your ass, lips pressing against the corner of your lips “cant ever keep my hands off you, he’s lucky i haven’t fucked you in front of him yet” you couldn’t help but gasp at his words, shocked he’d ever suggest such a thing.
“you would never” you pulled your head back a little to look at him, he raised his eyebrows at you almost challenging your words.
“i wouldn’t?” his nails pressed a little harder into your skin, you gasped and leaned forward to press your chest against his. he used his grip on your ass to grind you down against him, his cock already beginning to strain through his sweats.
eunseok lifted you from his lap and laid you down on the bed, his hands going down to release his cock from his sweats before pushing your panties to the side. his fingers invaded your slit before pressing against your clit, he laughed at you. “you’re so wet i might just start thinking you want me to fuck you in front of someone” you whimpered at his touch, his words sent shivers through you.
eunseok’s fingers moved from your clit to your sopping hole, one finger pushing into you. he couldn’t hold back his groan when he felt how warm and wet the inside of you was, wanting nothing more than to feel you wrapped tightly around his cock. you whined at the feeling of his finger pressing into your cunt, legs parting a little wider so he could press his finger deeper. you loved eunseok’s fingers but you craved more, you needed more.
he was thorough in the way he pressed another digit into your cunt and curled them, fucking you at a slow pace with his fingers whilst watching your face, savouring every sweet moan and whimper you let out because of him.
“need more” you whined, fingers curling around the base of his shirt before dropping to his cock, hand wrapping around the base as you guided it towards your core. you looked up at him, eyes wide “need you to fill me up” that was a request that eunseok physically couldn’t say not to.
his fingers left you, opting to pushing your panties aside so he could slide into you. he let you help him guide his cock into you, he watched as you brought him closer to you, the tip grazing over your clit before you dragged it down your slit and settled him at your entrance. you looked up at him again, eyes pleading for him to push himself into you and give you what you were craving.
you gasped when you felt the head of his cock stretch you out, he slowly eased himself forward so he could fill you, your walls clinging onto the skin of his cock with each gentle push forward. your hands went to his arms, his gaze never left the sight of his cock disappearing inside of you.
eunseok’s eyes flicked to your face, he knelt back on his knees once he was fully seated inside of you. “too much for you?” your eyes opened at his words, he was breathing heavier than before, seemingly lost in the way you hugged him.
“never” you whined, cunt still clenching around his cock as you adjusted to how much he was stretching you out “i can take all of you easily” despite the confidence of your works, your voice was timid and breathless, you were already submissive under his touch so you didn’t know what battle you were trying to fight, especially when eunseok laughed at you.
“i know doll” his hands pushed under the fabric of your shirt and grabbed your hips, moving himself back slowly before filling you up again, you whimpered “your sweet pussy was made for my cock, always taking it so well”. you let out a moan as he spoke to you, his fingers pressing a little harder into your skin as he began to fuck you properly.
you could tell he was getting into you, as were you, his eyes were focused on where the two of you connected, his cock glistening with your slick as he fucked himself into you. your panties created a rough sensation for him as they dragged along the side of his cock with each thrust, it only turned him on more. you loved these moments, the times when eunseok would grow quieter as he fucked you, so focused on the way you made him feel that he couldn’t think of what to say to you, too distracted by your cunt sucking him in. especially when he began to fuck you harder.
eunseok was so distracted by you that he almost didn’t hear his phone begin to ring, almost. the sound from your bedside table knocked him out of his trance, his thrusts only faltering for a moment before they grew steady again, his pace slowing down but not stopping as he read the called id.
sungchan.
you saw it too, you knew he was going to answer it like he did last time, and he did. there was a subtle smile on his face as he pressed the green accept button and brought his phone to his ear, his eyes meeting yours as he slowly dragged his cock through your walls, his hand leaving your hip to grab one of yours, fingers lacing together as he made a particularly harsh thrust forward. you moaned louder than you meant to as panic ran through your eyes, you could hear sungchan say something through the phone before eunseok laughed.
“perfect timing” was all eunseok said to him before he took his phone away from his ear and held it against yours. “sungchan wants to talk to you” your eyes widened as you heard sungchan laugh through the phone.
“hi pretty girl” you gulped, eunseoks thrusts growing a little harder as you tried to respond to sungchan “what are you doing?” you could hear the slightly taunting tone he had to his voice.
“i’m with eunseok” your voice was already broken, breathing unsteady, you weren’t hiding anything from sungchan.
“oh really? what are you doing with him?” eunseok pinned down your hand that he was holding next to your head, his other hand still holding his phone against your ear as he leaned over you, hair falling in front of his eyes as he continued fucking you, the position made it easier for him to fuck you a little faster. it also let him hear what sungchan was saying.
you looked at eunseok, not sure on what to say to sungchan, head to dizzy from his cock to be able to come up with a proper answer to give him. eunseok found himself entertained by the situation, your walls hugged him a little tighter when he laughed at you. “tell him the truth baby, no need to hide it from him”.
“he’s fucking me” you voice was barely anything other than a whimper, the head of eunseok’s cock found its place deep inside of you as it pressed against your sweet spot, you suddenly found yourself giving up all hope of hiding any sound you were making.
“you sound like you’re enjoying it, does our eunseok fuck you well angel?”. you whimpered, you were enjoying it.
“yes” it came out as a whimper.
“be a good girl and hold the phone yourself won’t you, baby?” eunseok’s voice made you look at him, your hand weakly wrapping around the phone and holding it against your ear as he let go of it, he knelt up between your legs and held your thighs, he lifted and pressed them against your chest as he fucked himself deeper into you. the sudden change of angle had you moaning a little louder. with sungchan on the phone, everything felt more intense. from what you could make out over eunseok’s skin slapping against yours, you could hear sungchan breathing heavily over the phone, heavier than usual.
“don’t you know i could fuck you better, though? bet you’ve thought about it haven’t you?”
“sungchan i-“ your voice was cut off with a moan, your body reacted so well to eunseok fucking you that you couldn’t hold yourself back from moaning at the feeling of his cock inside of you.
“hmm? you know i’ve thought about it don’t you, sweet girl?” sungchan’s voice sounded different, his breathing was slowly growing unsteady and there was almost a whine behind his words. you could have guessed that he was jerking off whilst listening to you being fucked, for some reason that idea of it turned you on even more. “so tell me, have you thought about it?”
“yes” it was a whimper again, you heard sungchan laugh deeply down the phone.
“you know i’m most likely bigger than eunseok don’t you? know i’ll fill you up better than anyone you’ve ever been with” eunseok wasn’t small, the thickness of his cock always made your head spin when he was inside of you so the thought of sungchan being bigger had your clit throbbing and your cunt tightening around eunseok “how does that sound, angel?”
eunseok himself seemed lost in the moment, he watched you carefully as he fucked you, he could tell you were growing closest to losing your mind, it all being too much for you.
“so good” you words were directed at both of them, wanting to respond to sungchan whilst also telling eunseok how good he was making you feel “sungchan?”
“what is it, sweet girl?” you gulped as you moaned again, body beginning to feel weak from the pleasure.
“are you touching yourself?” your question sounded far too innocent given the context of what you were asking, far too innocent from someone being fucked senseless in that moment. sungchan groaned at your question whilst eunseok laughed, shaking his head at how shameless his best friend was.
“of course i am, how could i not be? you sound so pretty baby, hard for me not to be jerking off imagining i was the one fucking you right now” a harsher thrust from eunseok brought your attention back to him, in a way it felt like they were competing for your attention, both of them believing they could easily win whilst you were trying to pay attention to both of them at the same time. you were weak “do you want that hmm? gonna let me fuck you next time i see you?”
“fuck, yes” was all you could say, wanting nothing more than to have sungchan lay you down and fuck you brainless “i’m so close” was all you could whine out after, your eyes locking with eunseok’s as you felt his thumb drop to your clit.
“you can cum, doll” eunseok’s words only made you whine more, sungchan groaning in your ear spurred you on. you could hear him jerking off, the wet sounds of his hand being dragged up and down his cock with eunseok filling you up only pushed you toward your orgasm.
“let me hear you” sungchan’s voice sounded a little higher in pitch, you were sure the two of them were close too. when your orgasm hit you let yourself go, your lips parting letting out whatever wanted to come out, whimpers and moans filling the room as eunseok fucked you through your orgasm, his thumb on your clit not giving up as he drove it out of you “god you sound so fucking sweet” sungchan pretty much moaned into your ear, he found himself groaning restlessly as his cock ached for him to let him cum, eunseok finding himself in the same position as your walls began to milk his cock dry “you gonna take every drop of eunseok’s cum aren’t you angel? gonna let me fill you up when i get to have you too aren’t you?”
“yes fuck yes” your response resulted in sungchan gripping the base of his cock and his cum shooting over his stomach, he dragged his hand over himself as he let himself go. eunseok’s cum being fucked deeper into you as his thrusts slowed down as he let you breathe. he dropped your thighs back onto the bed and pressed his hand against your cheek, his thumb soothingly running over the skin as he grabbed the phone from you and put it to his ear.
“she’s mine by the way”.
⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆
tag list - @ma-riiii @zombyjuice @addictedtohobi @strayghibli @seokeuns @productiwity @swaggyjinnie @kvstjwonnie @xushigyu @daebin @saintzdoll @hyucksdelicate @shotaroswifeyily @imthisclosetokms @wccycc @gyuvision @seotired @starrypen @llearlert @yeolwrld @snowyseungs @shawnyle @bbg7mae @hwhjsthetic @cysier @lilriswife4life @blueberryyuta @revehosh @kpxpseoul @emoseob @sashasbluehair @ohmykwonsoonyoung @https-yangjungwon @nctxtrash @sacrificialsim @lunicho
#riize smut#eunseok smut#sungchan smut#riize eunseok smut#riize sungchan smut#✧ melody posts#✧ hard hours ✧
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you and me? really?
synopsis. mina and kirishima invite you to a night out. they conveniently forget to tell you it’s a double date. (part 2)
cw. gn!reader, gradstudent!reader, prohero!katsuki, aged-up (~23 yrs old), mina ashido x kirishima eijirou, fluff
word count. 1.7k words
Mina whines as you drag her into the bathroom of Kozue—the first red flag you should’ve noticed (who hosts a massive group hangout at an expensive ass restaurant?!)—but you’re far too angry to pay her any mind. She winces in disdain as you finally let her wrist go.
“Where’s everyone else?!” You whisper-shout.
“Uhh.. I might’ve left out a few details about this hangout.”
You can’t believe this girl. “No shit, Sherlock,” you sigh in exasperation. “Mina, you lied to me?”
Her eyes bug out in alarm, “I didn’t! I would never lie to you, you know that. As I said, I just omitted a few details.”
“Let me guess, like the fact that aside from you, me, and Eiji, the only other person attending is Bakugou?”
She lets out a squeak. Of guilt or excitement, you can’t tell.
You can’t help but roll your eyes, “Wipe that grin off your face. And you know he and I don’t really get along! And people can recognize you guys and think we’re on a double date. I barely even know the guy and his PR Team will be coming for my head tomorrow morning.”
“You don’t know that! You only met him once during the end of our patrol. He just gets extra snappy when he’s tired,” she giggles. “Oh, and don’t worry about the press. The chef owes Bakugou one—he offered to clear the restaurant just for tonight.”
You can’t believe your ears. Oh, to have the power and influence of a Pro Hero.
You shake your head in (another form of) disbelief, “So you’re not gonna say anything about you roping me into a double date?”
“Nope!” she exclaims cheerfully, turning her back to exit the bathroom. You follow suit, though unlike her, you’re not done with the conversation.
“How’d you guys manage to rope him into this, anyway?” You’d keep your voice down as you weave through the exquisitely prepped tables, but true to Mina’s word, there’s no one else around except Kirishima and Bakugou, who are seated at the far corner overlooking the city.
“Eiji used the same tactic,” she sing-songs. “He got annoyed earlier when he realized his predicament, but Eiji managed to talk him into staying. Said it would be cruel to leave you as our third wheel, or something.”
You chuckle despite yourself. Mina turns to grin at you.
“Right on.”
Turns out, dinner’s not half as bad as you thought it would be.
And regarding Bakugou? Well, the jury’s still out.
You can tell he’s barely fitting into the small chair beside you—which is actually regular-sized but dwarfs in comparison to his hulking figure—visibly uncomfortable.
He’s sporting a black long-sleeve, rolled up to his forearms, and slacks in light of the semi-formal dress code—the very code you panicked over earlier upon realizing that you didn’t have anything to wear. Luckily enough, you managed to dig out a good enough LBD, and opted to dress it up with some gold accessories you’ve had since college. And now you look even more like you’re on a date: matching colors and all. Great.
Kirishima, ever trusty Kirishima, just had to talk about your awkward situation among the group. (Which was incredibly unnecessary. Why not just ignore the elephant in the room?)
“We just missed the both of you!” he exclaims, while Mina, to his left, nods vigorously in agreement. “We haven’t caught up in a while. And, we figured we could be efficient and host a hangout instead—the four of us!”
Bakugou scoffs, looking away, “You guys are such a fuckin’ married couple already, with all that ‘we’ shit ya got going on. Makes me wanna gag.”
Your eyes widen in shock at his brazenness, but you can’t help but let out a stunned laugh.
His eyes flicker to yours at the sound. You could’ve sworn you saw the corners of his lips turn upward for a second before his infamous scowl took over his face again. Could’ve been amusement, but what’s that to you, right?
Mina pouts at his comment, while Kirishima only laughs wholeheartedly. Both brush it off, though, and you chalk it up to how they’ve gotten used to Bakugou’s bluntness after almost 10 years of seeing each other grow up.
“Anyway,” Mina interjects, “as we were saying, we missed you guys and also, thought both of you could use the company!”
“Ouch..?”
“The fuck is that supposed to mean?”
You turn to address Bakugou, whose eyebrows are so furrowed deep into a scowl you’ve half a mind to press a finger against it so he wouldn’t wrinkle so early. “I think they think we’re lonely.”
You look at the lovebirds, “But thanks, though. I appreciate the thought and your inviting us out. It’s been a while since I took the time off of grad school and working part-time at Manual’s. Though,” you spare Bakugou a glance, who eyes you curiously, “I’m pretty sure he can get all sorts of company if he wanted to.”
What’s meant to be a factual observation turned into a flirtatious comment the second Mina and Kirishima lit up, both piqued with interest. Suddenly, you’re regretting all the life decisions that led you to this moment.
“Oooh, what’s that supposed to mean?!” Mina exclaims, clearly delighted, while Kirishima’s eyes flicker between the both of you, wearing a shit-eating grin.
You can’t bring yourself to look at Bakugou.
“What?” you’re exasperated at this point, “I’m just saying,” you gesture vaguely to the guy in question, “Bakugou’s objectively attractive. The three of you are!”
“Uh-huh.”
“Yeah, sure.”
“I’m serious!” you spring to your feet, “Hell, your entire UA class is! Well, except for Mineta, I guess.”
You hear a suppressed bark of laughter to your left. Mina and Kirishima are cracking up now, too. Suddenly feeling self-conscious about getting all riled up over their teasing, you sat back down.
“I’m sure all of you have experience and can score just about anyone.” You finish your rant, glad you got to wrap it up nicely before the two could get even further with teasing you about Bakugou in front of Bakugou.
You hear him grunt in response and see him, through your periphery, look down at his fancy plate of Porcini Mushroom Velouté. Finally, someone who agrees. Though, weirdly enough, it didn’t feel as good as you thought it would..
“Sorry for teasing you, Y/N!” Kirishima laughs, albeit quite sheepishly.
Mina nods, “But really, though, we’re glad you could come. Both of you.”
“Has he texted you yet?!”
You look back at the course syllabus and mountains of textbooks stacked on your desk, and you can’t help but heave a heavy sigh, “Really? This is what you called and dragged me out of my deep work for?”
“Come on!” Mina always sounds so cheerful and perky, talking to her makes you feel like you’re not 5 seconds away from crashing and sleeping through what’s supposed to be a serious study night. “He hasn’t, has he?”
“Well,” you decide to indulge her, “No other man has texted me in the last 24 hours except my Uber driver, so I guess my answer to that is no?”
“Very funny, Y/N. Ha ha.”
You grin in amusement. Two can play at this game.
You can hear her mutter a soft curse at the other end of the line, “Damn that Bakugou! He’s sure taking his sweet old time. After all that trouble of getting him to accept your number.”
“Cut it off, Mina. You should’ve tricked someone else who could actually be a good match for him instead of me.”
“What?!” she actually sounded shocked, “I didn’t choose you because you were convenient!”
“Thanks,” you deadpanned.
“Y/N! Sure, tricking you into joining was convenient, because you are both my and Eiji’s best friend, though I don’t think I need to explain that.”
“Sure, go on.”
You can practically hear Mina roll her eyes, “FY fricken I, both Eiji and I think you and Bakugou are a great match. You’re both driven, smart, and no-nonsense individuals who think they’re too busy and grown for romance.”
“That honestly sounds like a recipe for disaster, Mina.”
“People like you think that! But trust me, once you find the one, romance doesn’t seem so bad after all!”
“It doesn’t matter,” you mumble. “The lack of texts says enough. He probably just doesn’t think I’m interesting. So cut it off, please?”
You should’ve known better than to expect Mina to let things go just like that.
“Didn’t you see how he reacted when you called him attractive? He got so embarrassed, all red in the neck and ears. Eiji and I couldn’t stop talking about it last night—we’ve rarely seen him like that.”
You huff in slight irritation (and embarrassment), “It’s because you guys wouldn’t stop teasing us. I’d be flustered too if my friends kept tormenting me like that.”
Mina cackles, “Well, you were the one that gave us classic material to work with.”
“I’m hanging up.”
“No, wait!”
You sigh for the nth time in this conversation, “I was busy trying to hype you up and convince all of you of your attractiveness, thank you very much. So no, I didn’t see his reaction.”
“Yeah, that was very kind of you,” Mina exhales wistfully. “Anyway, I’d dare say he even got disappointed when you started complimenting me and Eiji too!”
You could only hear a second of her high-pitched laugh before clicking the End Call button.
Normally, hanging up on your best friend would make you feel bad, no matter how angry or annoyed you were at her.
But this? This is an emergency.
You clutch your heart, which is now hammering at an alarmingly faster pace than normal.
Fuck, you think to yourself. You cannot be crushing on Bakugou Katsuki.
Before you can spiral and go into an I-can’t-have-a-crush-much-less-on-a-pro-hero-named-Bakugou-induced panic, your phone chimes, indicating a new text message.
You bring it up to eye level, and you can’t help but gawk when you finally see the message content.
Hey, it's Bakugou.
#bnha imagines#mha imagines#bakugou x reader#bakugou x y/n#bakugou katsuki x reader#bakugou imagines#bnha scenarios#mha scenarios#bakugou fluff#bakugo x reader#bakugo x y/n#i haven't written in MONTHS oh my lord#starting to get out of my depressive episode and this is a good sign LMAO#i hope you guys like it!!!#i enjoyed writing this#very self-indulgent lmao
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You've been writing to inmates in prison for almost two years now and have helped many feel more at ease with their current situations and possible futures. So it should come to no surprise when the warden of the most notorious prison seeks out your help with a difficult inmate they can hardly contain. The task proves difficult after you receive your first letter back from Bakugou Katsuki. More infamously known as Ground Zero, and you're not so sure you can help a man this far gone.
wc 6.8k warnings: dunno but he's mean and a villain so read at your own risk. MDNI 18+ content
Congratulations!
You've been selected for a special project due to your credentials with previous inmates. Letters exchanged between you and other inmates have had a positive effect on their rehabilitation which is one step closer to getting them assimilated back to the normalcy of society.
We ask that you help us by reaching out to inmate B-001174 Bakugou, Katsuki. He has not had mail correspondence nor a visitor due to his self isolation since his incarceration. We are hoping that a letter from the most well received correspondent begins to pave the way for a brighter future for B-001174. Please see the below instructions on what topics to avoid for inmate B-001174
Family members of any relation to inmate
Previous crimes by inmate or inmate's affiliates.
Current crimes by inmate's affiliates or any such nature of crime
Current events of any kind including natural disasters, diseases, political elections or anything of relation.
Current hero rankings, change of status or death of any hero since incarceration December 18th 2XXX
Any mention of hero(es) who captured inmate listed as follows : Aizawa, Shouta - Eraserhead, Todoroki, Enji - Endeavor, Toshinori, Yagi - Allmight, Usagiyama, Rumi - Mirko
Current known affiliates are listed as follows : Kirishima, Eijirou, Midoriya, Izuku, Shigaraki, Tomura and Todoroki, Touya.
We appreciate your efforts in brightening the dull lives of inmates and hope you pick up your pen and do what you do best, change lives for the better! Please see the following attachments for instructions on how to address the letter and seal inside the pre-paid postage envelope before dropping it off at any post office.
Remember each letter will be opened and read for any sort of criminal activity before being passed along to the inmate.
Sincerely,
Warden of Tartarus Maximum Prison Facility
You flip the letter over and skim the instructions, the same as they always are expect this time there is an extra line to add, maximum security level ten, as if you had to notate some sort of alert to the mailroom for an extra thorough check of this particular piece of mail. You bite the inside of your lip, toeing off your kitten heels before padding over to your computer with letter in tow.
The request comes as a surprise, mostly because they listed a specific inmate instead of your usual list of inmates who wished to receive mail but had ties cut from their own families or needed some semblance of someone on the outside to speak with. Never asking you to address some sort of conversation with someone who sounded like they didn't want to have one at all.
Snarling your lip when you read the affiliates that you needed to avoid as if their government names gave you any idea of who they were, some of them anyway.
Two with whom you were already exchanging letters with weekly.
Your usual routine to wind down from work is lost to your undying hunger of who this person was. Although you had to admit Bakugou sounded eerily familiar.
A quick search brings up his villain name, Ground Zero, captured during a raid of some sort and he alone needed several heroes for his capture. His quirk was dangerous, explosions detonated by sparks along his forearms and palms from his sweat that contained nitroglycerin and it seemed as if his mental health was just as stable as the fuel to his quirk.
Looking at him wrong set him off and he was powerful enough to level buildings from just a few juls of output from his intense explosions. Still curiosity killed the cat and you delved deeper.
Wondering how Izuku, aka Deku, who was quirkless and Eijirou, aka Blood Riot who could harden his skin, which you knew from their letters, got caught up with a living, breathing nuke.
Thankfully most of the documentation and footage involving Katsuki's arrest was released to the public with redactions and edits of course but what you needed was the raw data.
Finding unofficially released footage from Mirko's body cam, the only surviving body cam between the pursuing heroes. It starts right in the midst of the action, sirens wailing and people screaming in the background as the scene unfolds. Ground Zero and Mirko exchange blows evenly while Endevor tries to ambush him from behind. The hulking blonde smirks, as if he had no blind spot, swinging his large arm backward hitting Endeavor right in the mouth, hard enough it sends him flying. Katsuki's bromine eyes flicker to what must be vantage points off camera as if searching for something.
"Got that pesky ass four eyes on me huh? I'm hurt ya don't wanna play with me properly, hops." He dodges a kick to the chest, sliding back and it's obvious his prowess as a fighter is unmatched, even with his quirk silenced.
"Shut the fuck up. Ya talk too much." Shifting her weight to fein a kick that he catches, pinning her thick leg between his sturdy ribs and strong arm as he wears the nastiest smile. One that Mirko wipes off quickly with a swift kick from her free foot straight to his handsome face. Turning his cheek and blood arcs from his mouth, still he does not stagger nor falter.
He even still has her leg pinned as she stands awkwardly, back arched to him and her bunny tail twitches. The viewer can only see the ground and her free leg but the mic still very much catches what he says next and you're sure the smile he was wearing earlier comes back tenfold.
"Careful hops, ya get any rougher with me and I'll cum."
His laugh echoes shortly after and the sound should not cause your stomach to flip the way it does before the footage abruptly ends.
Taking the time to scroll through a few more pictures and articles, trying to find where it all went wrong when really none of that was your business, still it killed you to know.
And when you fail to find anything, fail to find that butterfly effect that puts his whole life askew, it does little to quell the uneasy feeling that gnaws at the pit of your stomach. If anything it fuels it yet still you rummage your desk for stationary and a pen.
Sealing away the envelope once you were done and setting it by your purse to grab in the morning when you think you'll be braver.
Or maybe less brave as you hesitate by the mail drop off box, your train fast approaching the outside terminal before you shove it into the slot quickly.
Too late to take it back now.
Besides what were the odds he'd even send one back?
"B-001174, got mail." The guard grunts as he slips the already open letter under the cell door, finishing his rounds before the doors would open and the inmates could roam about the pod as they saw fit.
Katsuki snarls, he didn't get mail, letters or pictures or even the cult following he once had he'd scared 'em all off. Tired of all the stupid bullshit they spewed at him, the ideals they placed on him or the words they shoved into his mouth. Worst yet were how they justified their actions, their own wrong doings in the name of Ground Zero, too pussy to even own up to their own actions. Katsuki hated that as much as he hated liars.
Besides he didn't ask for all that shit, didn't care. He just wanted to watch the world burn.
Wanted to set it on fire and Katsuki's philosophy was that anything was kindling.
That everything is kindling.
And he thinks he should just ignite the smallest spark despite the quirk "silencing" cuffs and let the letter be devoured by the heat of his palms.
But the return address catches his eye, the name does. It's familiar in a way he can't quite place yet. Pulling the paper out of the envelope in the meantime. The first thing he notices is the faint almost perfumey smell of coconut from the paper, not from spraying the stationary but as if it were lotion rubbing across the parchment as you wrote in long looping letters, for a moment he finds the smell pleasant. His poisonous bromine eyes slide over the letter with ease.
Dear Bakugou,
I heard you don't get letters very often, if any, so I hope this one finds you well. The weather is warming up quickly, the cicadas are starting to scream even though it's barely June, we'll all be sweltering come August. Summer is my favorite season, do you have a favorite? Work slows down around this time and they usually grant us extra leave so we can enjoy the weather, which is quite nice. I hope you're getting to enjoy the sun as well.
I know cooking is one of your favorite things, I can see why. It can be relaxing or make you feel good to nourish someone else. What other hobbies do you have aside from cooking? Any favorite books or authors? Maybe I can send your favorite one in! Just let me know.
Do you have everything you need? Do you need any money for commissary? Don't hesitate to ask if you need anything at all, I'm only a letter away.
Hope to hear from you and maybe soon I can call you Katsuki.
Much Love
He snorts as he reads the last line and it finally dawns on him from where he knows your name. Lifting himself out of his prison cot with ease, the cheap thing groaning from his bulk as he exits his cell. Heading towards the neighboring cell that holds Deku and Riot, shoving his way into the too cramped space for the bulking men.
"Ka-kaachan!" Izuku chirps, surprised to see the hot headed blonde out of his cell and especially surprised to see Bakugou in his own. Lingering by Izuku's half with a quirked brow, his eyes roaming until they found the hidden stack of papers.
"Gonna grab breakfast with us?" Kirishima asks as he watches large hands snatch at the pile. Instantly Izuku stands, eyes darkening as he steps towards Katsuki.
"Put those down, Kaachan." It's that fake polite smile Izuku wears before a fight, the kind that never reaches his eyes and Bakugou doesn't heed the warning, "Please."
It's clipped and now Kirishima thinks to rise, doesn't want either of them to do solitary or to deal with the month long bickering if they do get into a physical fight.
Katsuki looks over the letters, reading them quickly and appreciating that Izuku is meticulous enough to keep them in chronological order, each one signed off the same way. Much love.
Such bullshit.
Izuku shoves Bakugou when he still scowls down at the papers that also smell like coconut. Katsuki drops the letters unceremoniously and Izuku scrambles to keep them from hitting the concrete floor. Bakugou already on Kirishima's side who watches with a confused glare.
"What are you-" But Kirishima doesn't get to say much else as Katsuki lifts the thin mattress from the metal frame to find the hidden letters. Tucked away safely as if the battle worn villain took comfort in the false words in shiny black ink.
Same return address, same name, same bull shit sign off.
"Katsuki!" Kirishima shoves him and the blonde hardly moves, Eijirou's skin half hardening out of habit before he tries to shove again. Katsuki hits his forearm harshly, a soft pop in warning although neither could do too much with the amount of sedation and silencing that came from the collar from around their thick throats. Izuku sans silencing cuffs, has no worries about a part of him being dulled. He was built like an ox with the metabolism of a pubescent teen despite being in his late twenties so sedatives or mood stabilizers hardly have any effect.
Bakugou tosses the letters onto Kirishima's scratchy blanket before he scoffs.
"Tsk, believe that bullshit?" He's rolling his eyes as he leaves the cell with nothing but the rustle of paper as they try to rehide what they act like is their dirty little secret.
God weak hearted fools were so fucking annoying.
Post through the prison system could take some time, especially when it came to newer exchanges. It could be anywhere between two weeks to two months before you saw a reply from Katsuki. If you got one at all.
But the thought of his phantom reply slips to the back of your head what with your current workload and the other correspondents so when you see a sealed envelope the prison's return address you think nothing of it.
Not until you open it to see an open envelope with your address but instead of your name is spelled out Fake Bitch.
Blinking furiously you pull out the letter, unfolding it quickly to let your eyes scan over the page, each word burning into your retinas.
Piece of shit,
Such a pathetic fuckin slut, writing any and every desperate man behind bars you think is hot, hopin you'll get a conjugal visit. Already fucked everyone at surface level ya gotta try prison dick?
Or is it worst than that? Mommy and daddy didn't love ya enough? Didn't give ya enough attention so you look for it in anyone that'll give ya the time of day? Prey on those with no one to talk to knowing you'd get a reply out of desperation.
Lickin knives all ya know sweetheart? Pretty fuckin scummy if ya ask me.
Fuck off and die,
Bakugou Katsuki
Now you've received your fair share of mean and asshole letters but this? This was different.
This felt personal.
It was rule number one you'd given yourself when you were asked to start penning letters while in a shitty place yourself.
And yet here you were breaking it for some asshat who thought the cityscape was his to destroy.
Heart ringing in your ears as you try to calm yourself, counting your breaths until you finally could see straight. Penning up something simple yet effective telling yourself that even if he didn't reply it didn't matter.
You drop it into the mail the next day, two weeks later the same guard is slipping another opened letter under Bakugou's cell door. A snarl to his lip, he didn't expect you to reply and if he was being honest he may have forgotten about you, still the envelope was addressed to his inmate number and no longer is his name written in your cute script.
While you may think you know everything there is to know about life and me, I'd like to point out your position over mine.
Last I checked I'm not miles and miles in the ground, under heavy security, among other things a civilian wouldn't be privy to. However I will put it into lame man's terms as it seems your cognitive abilities have declined.
I'm not the one behind bars, asshole.
Much Hate
Bakugou clicks his tongue, he was used to the insult, wore it proudly most days but he knew his first letter would go one of two ways.
One, you'd cry when you read it and never replied to him again, which was his hope or two there was a very slim chance he'd get under your skin enough you'd feel the innate need to respond and defend yourself.
Bakugou does what he does best and burrows further under your pretty skin twirling the pen he finds in the library with ease as he takes to writing out a delicious reply.
Mail from Tartarus normally came on Wednesday or Thursday as if someone at the facility always forgot to send it out at the beginning of the week. So it became a part of your routine to check your PO Box you set up in a prefecture over in order to preserve your safety should something ever go awry with any of your pen pals or to receive online purchases. Mail day used to be a day you looked forward to, something to help you get through the remainder of your work week but today it was a day you dreaded.
The excitement from seeing the others' responses in the mail is overshadowed by one particular envelope that slips out of the Manila folder that all of the letters to the same correspondent were sent in to save postage.
You should be reading Touya's letter or hell anyone else's for that matter, yet here you stood, going for that obnoxious scrawl as he still refused to spell out your name and instead gave you some horrible insult.
Pathetic Slut
If lying to yourself by writing half ass disingenuine letters to prisoners out of pity makes ya feel like yer changing the world then by all fucking means write away sweetheart.
Just don't be surprised when you get an asshole response from an asshole behind bars.
Cause we both know that's what you think of all of us don'tchya?
Die,
Bakugou Katsuki
It shouldn't bother you, it shouldn't burrow so deep into your skin that his inky words scratch at your bones. Like his fingers could dig around in the marrow like maggots yet still it makes your cheeks heat. Makes your eyes burn from frustration and lack of blinking as your palms sweat.
Soles of your feet burning as you walk further into your apartment to rummage through the drawers of your desk. Uncaring how things topple over as you furiously grab for a permanent marker, pens and books scattering over the hardwood floors.
Heart pounding as it resounds through your body like metal striking a bell. Each beat faster, harder than the last until you think your vision starts to ehb at the edges from how much hatred burns away at any of the kindness you built up over the last decade.
Snapping the marker in half by the time you're done writing your final letter to the asshole.
FUCK
YOU
You don't read it, don't care if it makes it past screening and he never sees it at all. Shoving it into one of your personal envelopes on your desk slapping on a floral postage stamp before stomping down to the express box that sat just outside of your apartment complex.
It takes a full week for you to calm down, another week to stop thinking about it daily, and one more week to even reply to the letters you got almost a month ago.
An email comes in from the post office, alerting you to something being placed in your box. You hope it's the new sun dress you bought as retail therapy after a long week and an even bigger bottle of booze that you'd drained. Spending quite a pretty penny on something you didn't even really have an occasion to wear it to.
More like a nice date, the type of dress you could dress up or down depending on what sorts of accessories you paired with it.
Taking the train three stops past your own to head into the post office. Turning the key to your decent sized box finding within the metal your promised package.
And on top of that a familiar manila folder with the return address to Tartarus.
You grit your teeth, holding onto the mail harder than you should as you take those three long stops back home. Swallowing thickly as you climb your steps, the folder and plastic bag package punctured from your sharp nails as you quickly press in your seven digit key code to get into your apartment and out of the sweltering mid August air.
When your door shuts it closed off the sound of the screaming cicadas and the few crickets that lie in the green space beside your apartment as you try to force yourself to follow your nightly routine.
Remove shoes, take off makeup, eat, shower, sleep.
But that damn folder was burning a hole into your fingers as you go to your desk, rocking your chair side to side before you just rip it open like you'd rip off a bandaid.
This time the letter addresses you in a new way.
Sweetheart,
I dare you to come say that shit to my face. You fuckin better show up Saturday other wise I'll let your precious Izu and Eiji know just how much of a fake bitch ya really are. Imagine what it would do to them? Break their hearts I'm sure.
Ya'd hate to mess with their progress wouldn't ya?
Don't forget to wear something cute, it'd be nice to see some fat tits in my face at the very least. If a shitty woman like you even owns anything relatively sexy.
Fuck off
Bakugou Katsuki
You see red, breathing deeply as you re-read the letter again, who the fuck was this asshole? Black mailing you into visiting him so it wouldn't hurt your other correspondents because Bakugou was so fucking selfish.
So black out angry you don't seem to wake up, not when you put yourself in that sleek summer sun dress that went to your mid thigh, not when you stare at your angry scowl as you apply light make up, and especially not on the hour drive and then two hour ferry ride to Tartarus. Especially not during the twenty minute descent in a cramped elevator box with a guard in front and behind you with AKs clipped to their chests, the sweltering heat seeping down this low in the ground due to body heat and poor ventilation of the prison.
Not until the buzzer of the barred door in front of you screams its demands, that the handle was "live" and could be opened by the guard standing in the cage between the hallway that led back to freedom and the other where you could already see toxic bromine burning into your skin.
This was a bad idea. This was a really fucking bad idea.
You swallow thickly, it was too late to turn back now wasn't it? The door had already swung shut as the guard came closer to you for one final inspection.
"Dress is kinda short." Katsuki can overhear the guard mumble to you, can see how the guard's fingers twitch and for some reason his own do too. He watches how the guard lingers, how the man's hand press against your body and bunches up your dress as he pats you down a little too roughly. How you bite your lip when the man squeezes your ribs and under the weight of your breasts a little too roughly.
Katsuki is starting to see red, sweat begins to collect on his brow. He hasn't even fully seen you at least not without an obstructed view but already he can tell he likes what he sees.
Likes how the dress clings to parts of you you'd favor, the parts you want to really highlight. How the hem flusters higher with each step of your strappy flat shoes.
Loves the scowl that pinches up your cute face when the door buzzes to allow you into the room with him and another six guards. Likes how you straighten your spine as if you've gotten fresh resolve when you come in.
Looking at him like he was trash and he smirks, like how you don't recoil from him despite how he looks now.
Plexiglass spit guard with metal framing afixed to his face to keep more than his salvia to himself, more so to keep his gnashing teeth away from people's skin. How his throat is encircled with a thick black collar with a red light set far past stun and closer to kill that would send an electric pulse if he misbehaved but only if they could reach their remote fast enough.
How the silver cuffs around his thick wrists chain him to the table top, thick forearms exposed from him rolling up his bright orange suit that was harsh on the eyes thanks to the flickering fluorescent lighting overhead. Soft ash blonde hair messy at the top with a self given undercut beneath, iris so bloody red it was as if he was born straight from the calf of Ares himself.
"Hey Sweetheart." He purrs and his voice is pure sin.
Pure fucking sin.
Sending a jolt straight to your clit as his pretty lips curl up into a deadly smirk, showing his sharp canines.
Bakugou can't contain the feeling of triumph that dances in his veins, purposely egging you on in his letter with the closest Saturday knowing you'd be allowed to come on such short notice. See, most visitors needed to have thorough background checks and intensive mental testing before coming to meet anyone in maximum security five hundred meters below sea level.
But the conniving blonde knew you were special.
Knew the warden of Tartarus favored you and would allow you to skip these precautions, especially after what that dumbass thinks you've done. In less than a month of writing to him, that damn Deku finally added Inko-san back to his visiting list, actually came to the visit and cupped her hands. Murmuring on and on that her baby boy with the wavy emerald curls was okay. Inko cried and returned every month since.
No different for Kirishima either, adding Fat Gum, who was like a father figure to him during their shared time at UA, to his visitor list. Surprisingly Taishiro came, still comes, him and Inko car pool together.
Not even a few heartbeats pass between the two of you before you feel your tongue slicing up the sensitive skin of the roof of your mouth. Of the hard bone of your teeth.
"Fuck. You." The words drip with sticky poison that even one of the guards behind him flinches but not Bakugou.
No never Bakugou Katsuki, the Ground Zero himself who leveled a city for the fucking fun of it
He smiles, both sides of his mouth curling up and it should be disturbing how much he obviously gets off on your frustration, on your hate. But it isn't, it's almost mesmerizing how he looks at you. Like you're something to triumph and conquer, something he wants to keep for himself.
With that you turn to leave, skirt fluttering from the movement and Katsuki can see the tattoo on your upper thigh, the ink making his mouth salivate as he wonders if he can find any more you've got hidden on that fine body.
He lunges despite the rattling chains that keep him close to the table, still he has enough leeway to grab onto your arm in one giant hand. Foolishly you try to pull free.
"Oh come on sweetheart. I've got a whole hour of play time for this. Yer not leaving, sit down."
His grip on you is tight, his hand big enough to engulf half of your forearm and it gets tighter still. Hot palm making your bones creak from the pressure as he smiles up at you cruelly. All you can do is glare down at him, bore all of your hate where the two of you are connected, his skin feels electric against yours.
"Ya know, I could probably still blow your arm off." He doesn't bother to say it quietly, chuckles when you look at the quirk silencing cuffs and collar he dons, "They ain't shit against strong quirks."
Your eyes flash, anger spiking your blood and stupidly you strike. Hand stinging as badly as the tears that come to your eyes and threaten to fall past your lash line. Clawed fingers met with the metal framing of the glass spit guard mask that covers his mouth. Still one of your claws cuts his cheeks and he howls with laughter.
"Like I said-" He yanks you down harshly, playful tone from his voice gone as your ribs smack into the edge of the metal table, puffs of hot breath fogging the glass of his spit guard, "Sit."
The awkward angle forces your knees to bend, settling on to the cold metal stool while his warm fingers leave blossoms of black and blue on the skin. As if returning the favor for the cut.
"I can feel your heart pounding princess,yer pussy throbin this hard too?" He licks his lips, laughs when you lean away from him in disgust, "Ya like it. All sluts play hard to get at first."
Your eyes flicker to the guards behind him, all six pretend not to notice, panic shoots through your veins and the realization of just how bad of a fucking idea this was settles over you harshly. Like ice water flowing from the nape of your neck.
He follows your gaze, even cranes his head like he didn't know who was behind him and exactly where they stood.
"Oh them? They ain't gonna do shit. They're too scared of me. Blew a guy's head off last week." He smiles and one of the guards suddenly finds the floor interesting, "Do ya know how drugged up I am right now baby? How much force these cuffs have to use to bring my quirk down to half power?"
Choosing not to respond you let your eyes fall back on his handsome face watching it snarl as you ignore him.
Oh he'd make you see him.
"What cat got yer tongue now ya scared cause I'm so strong? Invincible?" Your eyes narrow as he speaks the arrogance of this man is far beyond your comprehension.
"You bleed like every other man." He loves the way you speak, how you wield that sharp tongue. How he wants it pressed and slashing over his own as he's two fingers deep into your tight cunt, moaning into his mouth.
He brings the thick digits of his free hand parting gift you bestowed upon him. The long thin slash as rough pads bring smeared blood into view so he can lick away the dark red beads.
"Bloody men are usually the most dangerous, you never know if it's his or that of another's." He lets his hot thumb roll over the cut, cauterizing the small wound hoping it scars.
Eyes widening as he blatantly uses his quirk as if there weren't armed guards behind him. You're watching his eyes closely as he does and finally you realize what he said is true. There is a dullness to them that was lacking in the raw footage you saw all those months ago.
Then his eyes were vibrant, sharp and slicing, much more intense then the hazy glare he gives you now. It didn't make him any less of an apex predator.
Still watching you, recording your small movements and committing your soft skin to his memory as he studies you.
"Got a quirk?" He grunts out after a moment, after he collects whatever information he was looking for, "I wanna guess first. Manipulation?"
He smirks at his own joke and you roll your eyes, trying to ignore how his thumb swipes at the underside of your forearm idly. How the motion twists your stomach violently with dizzying emotions.
Rolling your eyes before you scoff an answer, "No. Besides you expect me to manipulate through what? Ink?"
"Ya never know. Went to school with some asshole whose quirk was comic book sound effects." He leans back never letting go but now his hand is around your wrist. His fingers twitch when he looks at yours, fights the urge to roughly lace them with his own.
"Well I don't. Manipulate I mean." You adjust in your seat, feeling uncomfortable under his scrutiny, "And I won't disclose whether I have a quirk or not."
"Haaah? Worried I'll like it?" When you don't answer he adds, "Is it compatible with mine?"
Slowly blinking at him trying not to read into what you think he means. He groans at your silence, the higher dosage of his morning meds finally catching up making him a little lethargic. Taking his edge off when all he wants to do is rise over the crashing wave of the pending high he can barely keep at bay and whisk you out of the depths of hell the two of you currently sit in.
"So then what? You just used regular words to manipulate them?" He fights back a yawn.
"Who?" Your ribs still ache from his actions earlier, it doesn't warn you like it should.
"Don't play fuckin stupid, Sweetheart." He's lurching into your space again, hand moving back over your bruise. It makes your stomach clench when it shouldn't, especially not as the chains rattle against the metal table top, serving as a heavy reminder of the setting of this conversation.
Still his breath comes in quick puffs as it fogs up the glass again, "Shitty hair. Deku."
Your brows furrow for a moment, another groan from him.
"For fucks sake." Light squeeze of your arm as he spits their names, "Fuckin nerdy ass Izuku. Eijirou."
"I can't talk about them." Looking away from his darkened eyes that flash with a fury of emotion.
"Who's stoppin ya? Them?" He tilts his head towards the guards, "I told ya-"
"B-001174, you have five minutes left for visitation." A voice crackled over an old speaker in the visitation cell, "Please remove your hands from the guest or we will apply force."
The small light on his collar flashes red and he just smirks, looking up, well above your head. Staring directly at the warden like he knows exactly where he stood behind the two way mirror.
"Yea? You'll apply force? Go ahead. Nothin but a little shock t' me but t' her? She'll die warden." There is no mirth in his smirk, lips twitching as his eyes are shrouded in dark warning, "And we wouldn't want that would we?"
The way he speaks sends a chill down your spine, the haze of whatever sedative they had him on is now gone and you're left sitting across from those vibrant radioactive eyes. Burning through the mirror to sear the warden's skin in a threat, a promise.
A buzz rings out as the seventh guard comes in, he scrunches his nose and it makes his oddly shaped mustache twitch.
"Miss." He grunts holding out his hand for you to take too close in your personal space for your liking. Slapping it out of your face before following your right arm down to where Katsuki held fast. Peeling off his thick digits with your finely manicured claws.
He hisses at the loss of contact, glaring at the guard when his hands hover close and the older man is smart enough not to antagonize a literal monster. Katsuki stands suddenly, a scream comes from the bolts securing metal to metal as he rips the table out of the ground, unable to break the chains for now.
Everyone but Bakugou in the room freezes, guns cocked and aimed at the bulking villain who rose to his full height, sticking his prison issued white shoe onto the seat he just sat on to push down roughly. Thick thigh muscles straining against the fabric of the bright orange pants. A smile to his face when the chains finally snap and he can move his hands more freely before ripping off the plexiglass spit guard letting it clink on to the ground. His large hands run through his hair as if to fix it.
"I'm entitled to a proper fuckin good bye." He hisses at everyone in the room, they keep their guns aimed at him but make no move to pull any trigger.
Katsuki stalks closer, a wall of muscle, broad chest and shoulders, slim waist that leads down to powerful legs and you try not to let your breath catch in your throat.
Try not to let the big bad wolf win by letting him know just how scared you were. Over how impressive it was that he snapped reinforced titanium chains so easily.
He's well within your arms reach now, so close heat radiates from his chest.
"I'll see ya soon, Sweetheart." He bids you a final goodbye, waving his fingers that pop with burning caramel explosions. You're not sure why it sets you off, maybe it was the way he wore that stupid smirk on his face, maybe it was the way he demonstrated his power or his dominance in an attempt to intimidate you one last time.
Maybe it's the way he was arrogant enough to think you'd waste six hours round trip on his ass ever again.
Either way it makes your temper flair, burrows deep into your subdermis to scarpe at your bones one final time before you unknowingly seal your own fate. Not knowing how his body would react to your parting words.
"There won't be a next time. I came here for one thing and that was to say fuck you." Delivered with just as much clotting venom as it was before, middle finger held high.
His smirk turns deadly, blowing out a snort as he leans closer as if to share a secret. You can smell the cheap commissary soap that clings to his skin that's starting to lose out to the rapidly building nimbus of smoking caramel that clouds the air as his lips press to your ear.
"Don't have t'. I'll come to you." He pulls back and winks as you're guided out of the room, glare fixed on him as he stands unbothered.
He's lying, prisoners lie all the time especially if they think they can get the upper hand. He couldn't come to you. He couldn't escape prison for starters and lastly there was no way in hell he'd ever find out where you lived. The prison made sure of that by always including a fresh envelope with their own return address in the top left corner, you should know. You only triple checked each time you sealed away the letter, even a fourth time at the post box staring down at the address on the envelope making sure both were correct.
So fuck Bakugou Katsuki for being a dirty liar, fucking hypocrite.
Shoving yourself into an oversized shirt after your body shower you finally get to plop down into bed. Relishing the feel of fresh sheets and blankets as you sigh deeply. It had been a long, long day and no amount of self care could get his toxic blood red eyes out of your head.
Switching on the TV to pull up some show to numb your mind with familiarity when the channel cuts out. Breaking news flashing across the screen makes your body go rigid.
A prison break from Tartarus has occurred in the late evening hours, several high profile villains are believed to have escaped such as Shigaraki Tomura, Todoroki Touya, aka Dabi, Kirishima Eijirou aka Blood Riot, Midoriya Izuku aka Deku and Bakugou Katsuki better known as Ground Zero. Please do not approach suspected escapees, please report any suspicious person or activities immediately. Most importantly keep all doors and windows locked at all times. I repeat do not engage with the inmates.
A knock comes from your left, making you jump out of your skin as you fist the sheets. A cold sweat breaking out over your skin in goose flesh as your hearing rings in your ears. Unable to bring yourself to look at the sliding glass door to your balcony just yet as if you could ignore it and the cause of the sound would simply go away.
Another rapt of knuckles pulls your attention once more before you finally dare to peek to see glowing red eyes peering in. The devil himself at your door and you knew better than to let him in.
Knew better that a locked door couldn't keep him out.
Bromine burning in the night like ever fanned flames, orange jumpsuit obnoxiously out of place against the night sky, stained in deep burgundy red and ash grays, the same colors streaking his face before he knocks again. But this time it's in warning, hard enough to rattle the door that you both know he could rip off the track with ease.
"How- how did you?" Teeth chattering that you grit closed still refusing to give in to his tactics until he presses a small envelope against the glass. Your personal envelope with your real home address listed for return.
Panic bubbles up your throat in a scream that dies at the back of your teeth as you sit frozen a minute longer while he gives a predatory grin, large hands pressing against the glass before his palms glow bright orange. Brighter than his jumpsuit before the glass shatters and your scream finally escapes your lungs.
In an instant he's towering over you, palms pressing into biting shards as he cages you against the plush comforter dipping his head low so he can nose at your throat, hot palm at your ribs. Leave a searing bite pulling a strangled yelp from your soft lips that makes him laugh before his mouth is at your ear for the second time today. Finally speaking dangerously low.
"Told ya I'd see ya soon, Sweetheart."
#bakugou x reader#bakugo x reader#bakugou katsuki x reader#bakugou x you#bakugo katsuki x reader#kitten writes 🖤🐈⬛ ✍🏻
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DO YOU WANT TO STAY? — F. READER x GOJO SATORU
After the painful breakup with Satoru, your friends dragged you out for the party to have you loosen up, but the night went very wrong and very right.
cw: smut, hurt/comfort, unprotected sex, creampie, cursing, mentions of alcohol, brief violence, mentions of blood and very, very minor injuries (like scratches), little bit of post-breakup depression but nothing major; angsty vibes nonetheless, reader discretion is advised — 5,5k words
In the coldness of the dark night, you tried to get to your apartment, kick off those high heeled torture devices you’ve decided to put on earlier that day and just sink into the softness of your bed. Maybe right after washing away the concoction of cologne that lingered all over your figure, resulting from the awful experience that was clubbing with your friends. Fed up with all of the drunk assholes that tried to get into your pants with no shame whatsoever, you left, sending just a short text to Suguru. Resigned after trying to catch a taxi for few minutes, you moved by feet, cussing under your breath for the shoes you wore and if not for the filthy ground that disgusted you, you’d already be barefoot.
Padding in short, quick steps, you dumbly decided to cut the way with the shortcut that led you through the dark, stripped of most lights side-street-areas, the ones that nobody in the right mind would choose at any circumstance, but you were far from the right mind, when your feet felt like they were bathing in their own blood, with skin peeling through each and every step you pushed forward. And you thought you’re being lucky that night, seeing nobody in your way as you strode through the dark alley, before your hopes crushed in pieces as few men twice your size stepped right in front of you. Instinctively, you backed out and glanced behind yourself, thinking that maybe it still wasn’t too late to run back to the main street, but as you did that, the way closed by another wall of muscle. Trapped in the circle of misfortune, you noticed the metallic shine of bats few of them held loosely propped on their shoulders as they measured you out with their filthy eyes, grinning so wildly, you could see their teeth reflecting light even in the darkness of the alley.
“What do we have here, huhh?” one of them spoke and a mixture of laughs and chuckles, huffs and groans followed the question, along with many disgusting comments that made the horny men in the club look nearly innocent, as you thought about it.
“I’m just passing,” you said, swallowing the shake of your voice down to at least look like you were keeping composure, which you definitely didn’t. Resignation began flooding your system whilst the circle tightened around you, invading your personal space, making you feel smaller than you really were and causing your brain to forget all of the self-defense skills you had. It wasn’t much, but anything could possibly be better than just giving up, but you were already broken, doubting that any more damage could make things worse.
Just a month ago, you broke up with your boyfriend of twelve. It was heading towards the first real anniversary of your seemingly joyful relationship when everything crumbled right in front of your eyes, collapsing like a house made of cards. Satoru Gojo was everyone’s favorite – truly, everyone loved him – girls wanted to be with him, boys wanted to be him; students admired him, he was teacher’s favorite with his perfect grades, the know-it-all, the golden boy and even his enemies, that he had a lot of, would give everything to just once wear his skin and be him, be the infamous Satoru. And he was yours, for a year before the bubble burst and everything you tried to build with him shattered, along with your whole world. He was your whole world, you loved him sincerely, with all his flaws that he had quite a few, with all of his charms and wits, all of his handsome looks and every single one worn out, tired picture he hid from the outside world, but you were his inside world so you saw all of him.
When the break-up happened and the ground underneath your feet crushed, leaving you in shock so deep that you bluntly agreed to staying friends, as he briefly suggested in between his venomous spits, considering your shared group of close friends, but it turned out that staying friends after being so close and intimate wasn’t necessarily possible, at least for you. With memories of many nights filled with exploring each other’s bodies to the point of nearly passing out tattooed inside your mind, you couldn’t just watch as he poured his natural charm onto someone else than you so you quickly cut him off, removing his socials from your followings, removing him from your sight and retracting from any group activity with people that you called your friends as well. You couldn’t be in places where he was present, couldn’t see how effortless flirting was for him just days after he became free, how well he was presenting himself when you tried your best not to cry at the thought of him alone, not to say the sight of him with the crowd of thirsty girls at his feet.
It’s been a month and you still felt broken, so broken, in fact, that you were deliberately giving up fight in the threatening situation you found yourself in. It was your fault, after all, to try and cut your way short when you should never step into one of those side-alleys, aware of what Tokyo darkness’ hides. Silently, you hoped to just die here quickly, as you wished many times in the past few weeks, the heartbroken feeling slowly suffocating you inside the walls of your apartment that you trapped yourself in before your friends forced you out to club that night. And you pulled yourself together earlier that day, made yourself look presentable and even put on those fucking heels, determined to drown your sorrows in the sweet alcoholic drinks, to open up to new people, to feel like yourself once again and maybe, just maybe, find yourself a man, even if it’s just for the night because no one could replace Satoru. And you failed miserably, unable to have any fun in the crowded, sweaty space full of swaying bodies and disgusted at the thought of having sex with anyone there. You were never a party nor quickie kind of girl, you only began attending clubs with Satoru as he liked those loud musical gatherings and you found comfort alongside him, with the safe shelter of his protective arms the crowd around you seemed nonexistent and now, as the barrier of his muscles was taken away, you felt almost threatened by the drunk-dazed atmosphere so you ran away, giving in to your self-preservation instincts that clearly wore off when you turned into the alley off the main road.
“What should we do with you, princess?” one man asked, grinning widely and you felt the coldness of his steely bat underneath your chin that forced your head up enough to face him. “Oh, don’t cry, it’s gonna be soooo fun,” another added and it's at this point that you realized that a tear run down your cheek so you quickly wiped it away, wondering if it was caused by the fear or the wave of regret following the rush of memories that just a second ago flooded your system as you tried to recall why you even ended up in that situation, reminding yourself of the post-Satoru depression. “For us, at least. For you maybe not so much,” a laugh reached your ear from the back as you felt a hand gluing itself to the curve of your waist, and you flinched uncontrollably while your whole body was declining you anything above that movement. Cursing yourself, cursing the world around you, you tried to force your muscles to contract again, to move at any direction, to run if you’re lucky. Maybe the high heeled shoes could make for a weapon, maybe you could at least poke someone’s eye out, maybe you could do something, but instead, you did nothing. Squeezing your eyes shut and lowering your head, resigned and slowly agreeing to enter hell that was about to open right before you, you froze once again hearing a pained whine right behind your back. The palm that just a second ago was pressed disgustingly to your body was now gone and you were too scared to look at what happened so you stood in place, hoping that a black hole opened behind you, swallowing the man that threatened you.
“I’ll say it only once,” a voice you heard made your eyes snap open, but you kept them fixed on the ground, convinced that your brain, influenced by alcohol, fear and despair, was making things up at this point. “All of you, keep your hands off of her, understood? It’d better if y’all just run so nobody gets hurt.” You heard it again, you heard him again, the strict tone with honeyed undercurrent, and the shadows consumed your trembling figure as his towering body stood in front of you, effectively creating a barrier between you and the gangsters. You raised your head, your eyes run over the lines of his broad back until they finally landed on the messy head of snowy-white hair that even in the murky area stood out. He looked relaxed, with his hands tucked into the pockets of his varsity jacket and his head tilted slightly to the side. You took one step back but your feet met something that block it – that something being an unconscious body of a man that previously was touching your side. Stunned, you looked forward once again, only to see the scene of calculated violence playing out as Satoru easily dealt with hooligans. With quick, impressive displays of agility and strength, he put down one by one, effectively clearing the way for you to go home, but you stayed where you were until he finally finished the beating.
“Y’alright?” he asked and all you could do was nod when he grabbed your forearm, pulling you to leave the place of danger. Your body barely moved, tensed painfully and you felt the burn spreading along your skin from where his fingers were wrapped around your flesh. Forcing your legs to move, you tried to match his pace as he was leading the way towards your flat, hand still keeping a secure hold on you as he looked forward.
It’s in front of your building when you finally jerked your arm out of his grasp and he looked down at you, almost offended at how desperately you distanced yourself from his touch when before you’d lean into it instantly. Standing there, you finally locked eyes with his crystalline blue ones, that were looking down at you through the light strands of his hair and you couldn’t help but notice they’re longer than he’d usually keep them, crossing the length of comfort – as he used to call it – with the pukes irritating his eyes when below it. His seemingly neutral expression hid some tension, you noticed his brows creasing just slightly and his jaw flexing underneath the light layer of his skin.
“I leave you for what, few weeks, and you’re already getting in trouble?” he snapped rolling his eyes out of habit, but you could tell it was far from his usual teasing tone and he hated the way you were looking at him, or rather, through him. Your ability to see through every single of his little lies never annoyed him more than in this very moment, whilst you two stood awkwardly underneath the block you live in – the same one he used to live in with you, finding it convenient because of the shorter route he had to take from your place to college, comparing to the one he had from his own. “No wonder you’re in hot water when you walk naked through the shadiest alleys available.”
“I’m not naked, Gojo.”
“Gojo, huh?” he hummed in displease and chuckled bitterly at the unfamiliar sound of his last name rolling off your tongue. “That’s what you revoke me to? Not even a ‘thank you’ for saving your dumb ass a moment ago?”
“I don’t recall calling for your help,” you snapped, feeling the sudden wave of anger washing over you, as his words stung just as they were a month ago, but the angry feeling was gone as soon as it flowed in, when you noticed his hands. Knuckles stained in red, glistening in the street-lights as some spots were still bleeding after he punched down a little group of hooligans barehanded. In your defense. “You’re bleeding.”
“Another reason why you should be a little more thankful”, narrowing his eyes, he tried to hide his hands from you but you grabbed one of them and as you examined the damage, guilt began making your eyes wet, your mind unable to bear with the thought of any hurt happening to the man you still love so much it began killing you the second he was gone. Blinking the tears away, you exhaled. “Come inside, I’ll-“
“No need,” he grunted instantly, taking his hand back by force but you insisted, “please, let me at least clean these.”
Satoru started to regret the decision as soon as he stepped into your apartment, with all of the memories hitting him like a brick the moment he looked around the place. It looked all too familiar, everything so similar to how he left it a month ago, he was almost convinced you didn't change anything since that day. A blanket he bought you still hung loosely on the couch back rest, a cup from which he used to drink his morning coffee still was standing on the kitchen counter and even the chair in the living room was still pushed near the sofa, serving no real purpose for you whilst he liked to put his legs up while watching TV, being too tall to fit comfortably on your furniture. Everything felt so similar, like it was his home but now it wasn’t anymore.
“Come”, you snapped him from the trance and he followed you to kitchen island, where you already pulled the first aid kit to dress his injuries. You made him sit on the high-chair, while you kept standing on the ground and as you focused on cleaning his knuckles gently, Satoru could shamelessly analyze your features. Unable to deny your cute concentration, the corners of his mouth curled up just slightly as he noticed your brows furrow when you discovered more and more scratches along his skin. If it was his decision, he would just wash his hand at home and call it, but you always liked to take care of him and he often got home with scratches, sometimes getting them just to be tend by you, making you laugh at the unwise effort. If he wanted more attention from you, he could have asked – you always said, joking that although you’d try, you’re not sure if more attention was even possible as he took all of your mind. Now, as he looked at the precise movements of your gentle fingers, he wondered if he’s still appearing in your thoughts sometimes or have you pushed him out completely.
With a cloth and warm water, you cleaned the blood off his knuckles, revealing many little wounds that although shallow and harmless, will sting like hell when you use the disinfectant so you sighed quietly, already hating the thought of hurting him more. “There was no need for all that,” your voice was quiet enough, that if not for the complete silence of your apartment, he might have missed it. “You just got hurt.”
“And you might have been hurt much more than I am now,” he forced his tone to sound somewhat calm but his insides were burning. How could you say such things? How could you prioritize his well-being over your own, after what he’s put you through.
“I kinda wish I was,” you blurted out, pressing the gauze soaked in alcohol to his knuckles but it caused no reaction, as Satoru looked at you stunned. The words that just left your mouth were sinking in, and he found himself unable to speak.
“What do you even mean?” he forced finally, his voice lower and angrier and you tensed at the sound of his usual soft, melodic tone now stained with rageful undertones. “What do you mean, ‘you wish you were hurt’?”
“Pain that’s physical is easier to bear,” you replied quietly and cleared your throat, changing the subject as you finished wrapping his hands with thin, protective layer of bandage. “It should be good.”
"And what makes you so unhappy that you're that desperate for your body to hurt, huh?" Satoru asked, his face twisting in annoyance. "Surely, it cannot be me." The thought alone, the very idea that he might be the reason for you wanting to feel physical pain just to dull the mental made his insides turn with guilt but his effort to sound unbothered caused you to shut down and step back.
"No," you lied, packing up the first aid kit, looking strictly down. "It's nothing, forget it."
"It's not nothing, I want to know-"
"Not everything can always be as you want it," you snapped, walking away to put the kit where it belonged in the kitchen cabinet, silently hating yourself for the tears that moistened your eyes, hating the heartbroken feeling he fueled so skillfully with his nonchalant speech. You exhaled shakily, "y-you should go."
"Yeah. I think I should," he got up from the chair but instead of heading out, he circled the island in few large strides to catch your shaking hands and pull you into his chest. "But I won't. I need to talk to you. I have to."
"You said everything a month ago. You said enough back then, do you truly have anything to add?", the question rendered you hopeful that he's not going to say anything more because you couldn't take anything more. You were hurt through and through, your soul was crying and bleeding every second of every day since the one that broke you and you knew that you were way too close to the edge to take any more stabs of his sharp tongue and not fall down.
"Yes, I have," he kept you close but you don't fight. With your cheek pressed against his heartbeat and his strong hands secured around your shoulders and back, you kept yours down, hanging alongside your body afraid to touch him because if you’d allow your arms to embrace him, you might never let him go, risking another tear of your soul if he ripped away. "I want to apologize. For everything I did and I said then and now, and any time. I'm constantly talking shit, I don't know – fuck, I feel like sometimes my brain just shuts off. I'm sorry."
"You're what?", stunned, you forgot how to breathe and only whisper pushed through your mouth as you listened to his rambling.
"I'm sorry, y/n, sugar. I'm sorry, I've never... I didn't mean to- I don't know, I don't even know how explain it."
He spoke and your world stopped.
"What does that mean?", you asked, unable to hide the spark of hope that crawled into your voice as you breathed in his scent, absorbing his aura full of familiarity and warmth that you used to bask in every day since you got together. Your relationship always was heavily physical, it was the love language you both shared and you loved the way his hands never seemed to not be touching you, whether it was keeping you pressed against his chest or just smoothing over your hand with his fingers.
"It means I'm an idiot, that's what it means. No one ever I can love like I love you; I can't stop thinking about you, I can't sleep, god, I feel like I can't breathe. What I'm trying to say, uh... Fuck, I miss you, 'kay?"
"But you told me to go to hell", you reminded yourself and him as well, in your head replaying the cruel record that broke your world into pieces. "You told me-"
"I know", he stopped you from talking and you felt his body shifting slightly as his hand found your cheek, cupping it tenderly and lifting it so you looked up at him. Locking eyes with his light blue crystals you searched for the truth but couldn’t see anything. Satoru's heart broke once again when he noticed the intense shine of your eyeballs, wet from tears that you desperately tried to hold back. "That day I was... It was a bad day; nothing justifies it but I wasn’t thinking clearly. That day I hurt everyone around me, you, Suguru, Shoko, I even insulted Mei and she’s hard to hurt. Chain reaction of my stupidity, I ruined everything and as they forgot about it quickly, I couldn't bring myself to face you after what rolled off my tongue. And then I couldn't find you."
"I couldn't be seeing you so shamelessly flirting with everyone around you. I cut myself off", you said quietly, laying your hand over his own pressed against your cheek as his thumb smoothed over the damp skin underneath your lower lashes, wiping the salty residues away.
"I was being stupid," he sighed. His eyes lowered a little to glance over your lips, suddenly unable to resist you, losing the last bits of self-control the longer he looked at you. "It's you that I love, sugar." With that, his head lowered slowly, giving you enough time to push him away if you really wanted to, but you stayed in place, as if you were expecting what follows so he pressed his lips against yours, squeezing the gasp out of your chest and you couldn’t fight him when he was kissing you like he's starved.
The moment your mouths connected made you feel dizzy and you felt your knees buckling underneath the weight of his feeling. Instinctively, feeling you lose your balance, Satoru grabbed you by the hips and lifted you effortlessly, sitting you on top of the kitchen island and wiggling his way in between your legs to keep your body as close to his own as possible. You whined quietly, feeling the cold marble underneath your naked thighs where the dress rolled up. The kiss became messier, burning with lust and longing and you wrapped your legs around his middle, pulling him even closer, already tugging at his t-shirt that realistically you couldn’t take off because of the jacket still hugging his broad shoulders. Gojo read your intentions and pushed the garment off, breaking the kiss just for a second so you could take the black blouse off of his toned body, revealing the light skin strangely clear of any nail marks and love bites that you usually adorned him with and he wore those with pride. Your hands glued themselves to the softness of his flesh, examining the bumps of muscles flexing beneath your touch, and he crashed his lips against yours once again, kissing you messy and teethy as your tongues danced to the fiery melody of desire. Satoru was quick to encourage your dress to come even higher, his hand reached to the back, where he knew a full-dress-length zipper was waiting to be pulled down and he grinned into the kiss whilst exposing your velvety skin completely to his disposal. Wasting no time, he took you closer, smoothing over curves of your perfect figure, squeezing your supple flesh and you melted into the touch of his warm fingers with a soft whine that you couldn’t stop.
Satoru moved down, smearing kisses along your face, through jawline and onto your neck and shoulders and you couldn’t hold back a quiet moan at the feeling of his plush lips sucking spots on their way down. Brushing through his silky white strands, you allowed him to push down the straps of your lacy bra and before you noticed, it was off and on the ground as the man lifted you up from the cold counter, heading towards the conjoined living area and soon dropping you onto the soft couch, following you closely. You bounced slightly off the pillowy seats as he hovered above you, his lips glued to your skin, marking and exploring every inch as he moved down to take care of your chest and you stroked his strong shoulders, scratching them red.
Your body jolted up when suddenly you felt pressure of Satoru’s fingers over your clothed clit, as he rubbed circles over the sensitive bud while his mouth worked your perky nipples. The way his tongue danced around the pebble and how his teeth grazed the delicate skin continuously made you forget your own name, but for him it mattered only if you remembered his. Your mind became hazy, you felt like nothing else existed except for the man above you and you made your way down to unbuckle his jeans, impatiently diving your hand right into his boxers and wrapping your cold digits around his already hardened shaft. His cock was thick and leaking, begging for attention and it sprung out long when you pulled him out the trap that was his underwear. Satoru moaned against your breast, for a moment forgetting about the nipple in his mouth that he was in the middle of teasing, when he felt your grip moving up and down his length just right, spreading the pre-cum over it, and he knew he cannot wait any longer. He raised up on his knees, taking the panties off your body and finally kicking away the rest of his clothes before he fell back over you. His face met yours in another passionate, wet kiss and you moaned into it, as he worked his fingers between your folds, bullying your tenderness shamelessly and forcing many more sweet whines and whimpers from your chest.
“Satoruuu”, you mewled and he grinned at the sound of his name coming from you. “Don’t tease me so much, please”, pleading, you tugged at his hair and he chuckled at the eagerness in your tone. But he knew how big he is and even sleeping with him regularly, he more often than not had to prepare you for the stretch that was Gojo Satoru. “Don’t wanna hurt you, yeah?”, he smiled, nipping at the sensitive skin of your neck, sucking softly at the pulse and you just wanted him inside, no matter the consequences. “I can take you”, you ensured, “please, ‘toru.”
And what kind of man would Satoru be if he denied a pretty lady what she wanted and if feeling the burn is what you truly desired, he was going to give it to you. Being desperate himself,he stroked his length few times more before he smeared the head along your soaked folds and aligned the tip at your entrance, already knowing he’s gonna see tears very soon. And he did – your cheeks dampened as the burning stretch paralyzed the nerves all along your body and the tearing pleasure waved over your entire existence. Satoru groaned low through his clenched teeth at how your velvety walls were squeezing around his shaft as he slowly bottomed out. “God, I love you so much,” he growled into your ear and your dead-grip on his shoulders softened, letting him know that he’s good to move so he dragged his hips back almost completely, engrossed with the way your tight pussy tried to suck him back. Hot wave rushed through your body, as he began thrusting slowly and purposefully, clawing at one of your hips to ground himself before he loses composure in the way your cunt swallowed him whole time after time. He supported his weight on the other hand on the armrest behind your head, and gven the access to his body, you allowed your hands to wander all over his well-build form, leaving scratches and crescent-moons here and there with your long nails. Your fingers moved on their own, subconsciously tracing over the familiar musculature, refreshing the memory of a body that was burned into your mind. A whimper left your mouth when Satoru rolled his hips into you quicker, picking up the pace gradually and it almost hurt how deep he reached, kissing every sensitive spot inside you and it made your mind go blank of anything that wasn’t him. You smoothed over his flexing biceps, squeezing it tightly when he adjusted the position of your hips to ram his own into them harder.
Smearing kisses along your jawline, Gojo tasted your skin with pleasured hums, drowning in divine feeling of your pretty cunt eagerly taking him in, listening to the whimpers and mewls intertwined with little I love you’s that slipped through your parted lips in breathy tones. Warmth began pooling below his stomach as he praised you for doing so well after such long time and you cried out a moan when his hips buckled up sharper and rougher. He was drunk in the godly presence that you were, intoxicating himself with everything that was you – your taste, the scent your delicate skin held, the image of your flushed cheeks glistening with tears that his size caused and those were the only tears he accepted on your face. Beautiful crystals of wetness gathering along your lashes as he split you open with the unforgivable pace he has set, pushing up against every sweet spot inside of you and making you lose every last bit of real-world connection.
Blissful daze suited you and Satoru couldn’t get enough of the sight of your fucked out expression, wearing the same one himself, as his pace stuttered due to the delightful series of twitches and flexes your pussy did around him. Your toes were curling, thighs shaking and it only made him go harder. In a messy cacophony of pants and whines, you managed to unknowingly call his name again and again, ridding Satoru of every last bit of clear-thinking as suddenly, he wanted to hear only that sweet sound of your breathless voice. The voice he’s been dreaming about for the last weeks.
His cock twitched and thickened inside of you, pressuring your sensitive walls even more as he collapsed on his elbow next to your ribcage, sliding his forearm below your arched back and reaching new angles as your hips rolled forward. His fingers curled over your soft flesh as he was slamming his pelvis into your own, his pace became messied, more rushed, as he felt your orgasm approaching. You creamed all over his shaft, the white gathering at the base of it, as your pussy tightened and squelched delightfully in waves. Your gaze was heavy and you couldn’t focus on where your hands were landing as you felt the bliss washing all over your figure. Your thighs were trembling, your nails run over Gojo’s back, leaving red marks that for sure will sting later and you held onto his shoulders for dear life when he picked up the tempo even more, chasing his own release. Smearing wet, open-mouthed kisses all over your chest, Gojo leaned into the dip above your collar bone, groaning and breathing heavily as in few more pushes, his orgasm snapped, rushing hot with his load spilling inside of you. You felt his teeth sinking into your skin right where your neck connected to the shoulder and you couldn’t help but moan once again at the new painful pleasure. His brute pace slowed down, becoming messy and languid and his body fell over you, weighing you down onto the couch. You wrapped your arms around him, keeping him from lifting up, not at all caring about his weight crashing your own. Last drops of his load were squeezed by your walls before he slowly pulled out, exhaling deeply against your skin and you laughed joyfully.
Your voice was tired, your entire body ached from the unexpected activity but you felt happy for the first time in a month, suddenly grateful for your friends to take you out that day. Satoru at first basked in the sound of your chuckle before he joined, overwhelmed by the blissful daze. Both of you were worn off, sticky and completely fucked out and yet deeply satisfied and although still far from good as a pair, it already was much better.
“Fuck, I love you so much”, Satoru breathed out, planting few soft, ghosting kisses over the imprint of his teeth that already began to bruise up, coloring your smooth complexion with reds and purples as the mark was blooming.
“Do you, uh-“, you started but voice died down your throat; you were terrified of an answer. Gathering the strength, you continued, “do you want to stay…? With me…?”
Satoru grinned handsomely as he lifted his head up and your sight met the crystalline blue gaze of his eyes. His white eyelashes fluttered when he blinked, mesmerizing you all over again with the magical look of his features, his cheeks still stained with the faint blissful flush and you looked at his face with hope. “Yes”, he finally spoke and you felt your heart banging against your ribcage, as if it wanted to jump through it and kiss him itself. “I want to stay with you. Forever.”
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Pairing(s): Rafe Cameron x fem!reader
Summary: Realizing that no matter what you do, no matter how much you love someone, you are still not enough.
Author’s note: I’ve had a severe case of writer’s block so please don’t hate my disappearance.
Rating: Pure brutal angst
Warnings: fucking painful
__________________________
I think I may have made a small miscalculation.
My eyes trailed over the mass of muscle currently spread out on my bed.
Rafe Cameron.
Kook King, heir to Ward's real estate empire, and asshole extrodinare was sleeping soundly in my bed. It was almost laughable if I wasn't so fucking terrified.
The sunlight danced across his tan skin, the sheets bunched up at his hips leaving little to imagination. My breath caught as my eyes followed the small happy trail causing memories of last night to assualt me.
Sitting on the chaise lounge chair, I curl up against the pillows humming softly to myself. Bringing the mug up to my lips, I bite back a smile at the utter relaxtaion on his face.
When Rafe told me to pack a bag, my stomach flipped with nerves. Being the maid of the infamous Cameron family wasn't exactly ideal in the eyes of his family let alone being a pogue. So we kept our relationship a secret at his request. He had too much to lose if his family reacted poorly.
People wouldn't understand. Ward wouldn't understand. That's what he always told me.
Yet, as much as I tried to understand his reasoning, a small part of me ached at the thought of it being much simpler: I just wasn't enough.
It was exahusting to say the least. Always having to hide and watch as other women with more social status and money than me throw themselves at him. It didn't help that Rafe had a tendency to flirt back causing the green monster known as jealousy to rear its ugly head in my face.
So I stuck with what I knew how to do: clean.
And just as I begin to fall off the deep end, straight over a cliff into overthinking, Rafe always manages to pull me back out. This time he did it by offering a small getaway.
The Cameron's weren't set to use their beach house for another month or so, leaving this entire property for Rafe and I to simply enjoy each other's company. Something we rarely get to do.
There was no need to pretend here.
A groan pulled me out of my thoughts directing my eyes to the bed. A cool salty breeze swept in from the open balcony doors, the sounds of waves crashing agaisnt the shore soothed me.
Rafe peered at me from under his arm with a frown marring his features.
"What's with that face?"
"I don't like waking up alone." He complained, staring at me expectantly.
Giddiness singes every nerve in my body as I set down my mug and scurry over to the bed. The moment my knees hit the bed, strong arms envelope me and tug me into a warm prison.
"Mmmmh." Rafe hums, burying his face into the nape of my neck while his hand slowly tugs my leg over his hip. A small giggle slips from my lips at his softness.
"Are you laughing at me?" His voice rumbled with sleep.
"Yes, you’re a very simple man to please."
"I didn't have you, and now I do. There, it's simple."
My heart melted at his words. For someone who struggled wiht expressing how he felt, Rafe always managed to knock me on my ass.
"What did you wanna do today?" I asked, trailing my fingertips along his face, placing every freckle, every spot to memory.
Blue crytsalized eyes follow me every move. "You. In every room in this house. Then outside."
Blushing at his words, I huffed in fake annoyance and playfully shoved his face away from me. "Rafe, I'm being serious."
"I'm being dead serious, baby." He nipped at my fingers before rolling over onto his back, dragging me directly on top.
I rest my chin on the tops of my hands that laid on his chest and stare at the beautiful man below me. Rafe's fingers thread themselves into my hair brushing it softly, alomst lulling me to sleep.
I wanted to capture this moment forever. The sound of the seagulls chirping, the smell of the salty breeze, the warmth of his body under mine, and the utter adortion that dances in his eyes as he looks at me. It was intimate and real. And for a moment, I allowed myself to dream about the possibility of this becoming a reality.
The abilty to hold his hand in public and kiss his body in private. Being able to go on dates and be on his arm for events and dinners. Hanging out with his friends and his family because I knew what they meant to him. Being able to wake up in his bed rather than sneaking out in the middle of the night. I wanted it all.
Our picture perfect bubble. And consider me naive, but I thought this moment would last forever. But the thing about bubbles is they always pop in the end.
"Guess what?" Rafe asked, his cerulean orbs intense and sincere.
A beaming smile stretched across my lips at the familiar phrase he always used. "What?"
"I love-"
"I love you." I beat him to it, making him let out a deep bellyed laugh. I was memoriezed, enamoured by every little thing he did. I wanted to hear it again and again.
Opening my mouth, "No take backs-"
A knock on the door interrupts me.
That's when our bubble pops.
"Rafe? Open up." Sarah Cameron's voice fillters in from the other side of the door.
My eyes dart to Rafe, only for his face to be painted with sheer panic. In seconds, I'm shoved off the side of the bed and fall onto the floor in a heap of sheets.
My mind took a moment to catch up with my body. But when it did, the flood of emotions that crashed into me were nothing short of excruciating. An immediate lump formed in my throat at his actions as I try to make quick excuses for him but nothing came to mind.
"Just stay down, please." The sound of his request has me closing my eyes, his words hitting me deep, knifelike in the size of the wounds that they left.
I nodded softly. I remain still on my side on the cold floor as I numbly stare at the wall.
"Sarah, what the fuck are you doing here? I had the beach house for the weekend." His words were low and sharp, nothing like how he spoke to me mere seconds ago.
"Chill out. My friends and I wanted to get away a little, plus I figured you were already here, so. "
"You brought those fucking pogues here?"
I hear her scoff. "Your friends are worse."
"Just make sure they don't steal anything. I know it's hard for them considering they wouldn't see this type of money in a life time." His words were cruel, twisting the knife deeper into my chest.
I couldn't help but wonder if there was a double meaning behind his words. I was a pogue, just like Sarah's friends, and it would take me years to afford even a fraction of what's in this beach house.
Was that how he saw me? Was this the reason why we couldn't be public?
"Have you seen her? She wasn't at the house when I left." Sarah's question drew me back to the present.
I held my breath as I waited for him to answer about my whereabouts. I couldn't take another hit.
"I know you have about two brain cells, but please tell me why you would think I know where the help is?"
All my breath left my body and I fought the urge to scream. A heavy weight sat on my chest as I blankly stared at the floor, my eyeballs burning in absolute mortification.
"God, you're such an asshole."
"I aim to please. Now leave me alone." With that, Rafe slammed the door shut but I refused to move a muscle.
Instead, I tried to focus on my breath. It was the only thing that would keep me from having a panic attack. I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs but it's like my body forgot how to breathe.
Tears finally began to fall silently as I gasped for breath, clutching the sheet closer to my chest. Humilation pricked my very being as his words play on repeat in my mind.
Rafe was the best part of my day. He made me want things I didn't even know I wanted. And yet, this was how he viewed me. So small and insiginifcant.
Footsteps move in my direction but I paid them no mind. Moving was impossible, so I just stayed in the spot where Rafe thought I belonged— on the cold hard floor.
"I know how it looks, just give me a chance to explain." I felt him kneel beside me, his hand reaching to cup my face. I jerked my face away from him and return my attention to the wall.
"Can you please get off the floor?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"This is where you wanted me, right?" The words left a stale taste in my mouth.
My heart pounded in my throat as a hot flush filled my cheeks.
"Look at me." He demanded.
I couldn't. It hurt too much.
"Baby, please. Look at me." He touched my chin and I felt my body shudder.
"Don't touch me." The words tore out of my chest as I wrenched myself away from him.
Rafe's eyes tracked my movement and his face became very still as if contemplating his next move.
The level of betrayal I felt must have been painted on my face, because his expression shifted to one of regret.
"I made a mistake-"
"Stop." I snapped, lifting my hand to cut him off. "Get out. I need to change and leave before Sarah see's me."
"I drove you, where are you going to go when you don't have a car?"
My eyes narrow at his tone. Once again he was painting me as this helpless girl that was nothing without him.
"I have two legs that work perfetly fine."
Rafe crossed his bulging arms against his toned chest. "You're not leaving until we talk."
A fake laugh past my lips. "We're done, there's nothing left to talk about."
He let out a growl of frustation. "We're not breaking up."
Was he delusional?
"This is me breaking up with you. We are done, Rafe."
Rafe's icey blue eyes narrowed into slits. "Stop trying to break up with me."
"You threw me off the bed!" I shouted, my hands pointing to the floor where I laid moments ago, the shame still fresh as an open wound.
"You threw me off the bed." I repeated softer, my voice breaking at the end. "The bed, Rafe. Just so Sarah didn't see you with me."
"I shouldn't have done that-"
"It happened. It's done. Just let me leave."
Protecting what little self respect I had left was my only goal. No matter how much I loved him, it wasn't worth this constant stream of self doubt and humiliation that seemed to follow us like a plague.
Rafe stared at me for a moment before he jumped into action. Heading towards my suitcase, I watch frozen as he goes through my clothes, picking an outfit for me.
Taking several strides to me, Rafe shoved the clothes into my arms, his breath heavy. "Put these on."
"Rafe, what the hell are you doing-"
"I made a mistake. One that I'm going to fix right now. So stop fighting with me and put these on."
Unease filled me chest as my eyes dart to the clothes.
"How?"
"No more hiding. You and me, okay?"
I stared into his hopeful gaze, looking for even a flash of insincerity or deceit, but only found sheer determination. "Rafe, you can get out of this. I'm giving you an out-"
He shakes his head roughly, strands of golden hair falling on his forehead. "I don't want an out, I want you. So put the clothes on so I can go tell the world I love you."
I snorted, "Seems a bit melodramatic. Let's start small, yeah?"
Pushing his hair back, a sexy smile pulled at his lips. "Small."
I made my decision. Turning around, I grabbed the clothes and began to dress.
I wiped my sweaty hands against my mini white sundress as nerves begin to prick every bit of my skin. Rafe stood in front of me, his glacial eyes soft, with his hand held out for mine. "Ready, baby?"
Hope inflated my lungs as I placed my trembling hand in his, the cool feel of his rings brining a familiar type of comfort.
Rafe leads us out of the room and towards the staircase where voices floated up from downstairs. I was nervous. Extremely nervous. He was going to do it. Rafe was going to introduce me as his girlfriend to his sister and her friends, no less.
The sound of our footsteps echoed against the giant house causing the voices to slowly die away.
Coming into view, Sarah and the pogues are all perched in the living room wearing beach attire. An open bottle of tequila and shot glasses are spread along the table.
All eyes zone in on us before they zoom in on our clased hands. Sarah's eyes widened and I fought the urge to pull my hand from Rafe's grasp. As if sensing my thoughts, Rafe squeezed my hand reassuringly and moved me slightly in front of him.
He cleard his throat. "I uh-"
His eyes shot to mine. I let my fingers brush against his arm in encouragement, a proud smile gracing my lips.
This was the first step in the right direction. Once we told Sarah, it would be easier with each passing person.
Butterflies swarmed my stomach like a zoo. I knew how hard this was for him, but he was still doing this for me, for us. Rafe was finally making us a priority. The unattainble future now felt like it was within my reach.
"Sarah, there's something I want to tell you. I've um-well I've been seeing-"
The front door slammed.
"Looks like we're missing all the fun." Ward Cameron walked in, hand in hand with Rose. A loose linen shirt with thin pants dress his body with a hat and an expensive pair of sungalsses cover his face.
I felt Rafe's grip slowly loosen on my hand. Panic clawed at my throat as I turn my head to look at him. Rafe stared directly ahead with his jaw clenched. He refused to even look at me.
In a last ditch effort to cling onto the invisible string that held us together, I tightened my grip on his hand but Rafe jerked his hand away.
I felt the pressure in my chest finally pop and the string that once tethered us together finally tear. Dread sat in my stomach like lead and bile traveled up my throat.
He made his decision and once again, it wasn't me.
Heat rushed up my neck as I left my arms hang limply at my side. I didn't know what to do, I couldn't think. My shoulders slumped as I bit down on my tongue hard enought to draw blood.
It kept me from screaming.
"Rafe, thank god you brought the help. Though it looks like she hasn't been doing much cleaning." Rose tsked as she looked at the littered table in distaste. "Honey, be a dear and make us new drinks. Then when you have a minute, our bags are out front. Go ahead and put them in our room."
With a wave of a hand she dismissed me, as her and Ward walk passed me with no other acknowlegment.
My mouth went dry as I clenched my shaky shands together. I could feel Sarah's gaze drilling into the side of my head, but I couldn't look at her. Instead, I once again looked at the bane of my existance. The source of this crippling pain the crushes every inch of my soul.
"Rafe..." My voice trembled as I begged him, pleaded, for him to look at me. Just once.
I wanted him to see my face. He refused, the only hint of his turmoil was the bob of his adam's apple.
Swallowing my pride, I put my head down and do what I do best: clean.
____________________
I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me alive. I spent the rest of the day doing every little thing Rose asked. I kept my head down and said not one word.
Rafe made my place in his life very clear so I was going to be exactly what he wanted me to be. The perfect little maid.
The entire Cameron family sat at the table for dinner, John B included, as I gently set each of their plates down in front of them. I held my breath once I reached Rafe, knowing that one hint of his expensive musky cologne would send me into a fit of tears.
"Thank you." The timber of his voice caused me to close my eyes briefly in pain.
A familiar touch to my wrist made me jerk away and clear my throat. I continue serving dinner, forcing myself to ignore the gravity that's pulling me towards him.
"That'll be all, you can go relax for a bit. We'll need you back to clean up, of course."
"Of course." My smile was brittle. I allowed myself only a glance. Rafe glared down at his plate, hands clenched into fists at his side.
My feet moved on their own accord and soon I found myself outside, standing beside the pool that overlooked the shore. Taking in gulps of air, I placed my head in my hands.
Starting over was never something I planned. Once I met Rafe, everything else shifted into perspective. All I ever thought about was moving forward with him and starting a life together. One that he would be proud of. One where I didn't have to hide.
"I'm sorry." The words came from behind me and burned a whole straight through my chest.
I choked back on my tears that threatened to drown me and stare down at the rag in my hands.
"Baby." He moved closer now, his heat pressing into my side.
A small shake of my head was all I could muster. The armour I placed around my delicate heart was getting weaker with each passing second.
"I said, I'm sorry." His hand reaches for my waist, turning me to face my destruction.
A light blue linen shirt paired with white six inch seamed shorts don his body. A large gold watch decorated his wrist to match the shiny gold necklace that rested on his chest.
Looking down at myself, a simple tee and leggings, the contrast was so striking it was laughable. In what world had I fooled myself into thinking Rafe Cameron was mine.
Deciding to proctect my sanity, I moved back towards the house with every intention of cleaning up before grabbing my bag and leaving when Rafe blocked my escape.
"Did you hear me? I'm so fucking sorry, for all of it."
"I heard you." Indifference lacing every word.
Rafe gowled, running his hands through his hair in frustation at my lack of emotion. "Stop acting like you don't care and just talk to me."
"I don't care what your family thinks of me and I don't care what you think of me. I dont care anymore, Rafe."
Rafe gripped my chin and his irate gaze burned me. "Tell me what to do to fix it."
There was nothing left of me for him to fix.
The sound of Ward calling out my name is enough to distract Rafe. Pulling my face from his grasp, I promplty turned around and headed towards the house.
"Stop fucking walking." He barked out harshly.
Ignoring his words, I continue to head in the direction of the house. Only a few more hours and I can leave with my head held high despite the gaping hole in my chest.
"I swear to God, stop walking." I could hear his footsteps behind me causing a rush of adrenaline to spread like wildfire through my veins.
"Last time I checked, you work for my family. My last name is fucking Cameron so if I tell you to stop walking, you stop fucking walking." The words are cruel and dark and they have their desired effect because I stop immediately in my tracks.
My eyes began to burn as I pivoted on my heel and slwoly turned to face him. His gaze hardened and I can see him contemplating something before a vicious smirk decorates the face I love.
A glass tumblr was in his hand and I watched in absolute shock as he tilted the cup, spilling the dark liquid onto the floor. The rag in my hand suddenly weighed eight tons as I realized his intent.
"Clean it up."
My blood turned ice cold and a sound a disbelief left my lips.
"I said, Clean. It. Up." He gestured to the floor.
I searched his eyes for anything, for everything, but there's nothing there. Looking back down at the mess, I nodded my head and slowly dropped to my knees.
Tears blurred my vision as I scrubbed the floor clean, wanting nothing more than to disappear. Our fate was finally sealed in that moment.
Leaning back on the heels of my feet, I swallowed. Tears clung to my lashes but the damage was already done. The trails the tears left in their wake burned into my skin as a reminder of his cruelty.
His cold mask finally cracked at the sight of my tears. Rafe took a step in my direction but something in my face made him halt.
“Is there anything else I can do for you, Mr. Cameron?” I averted my eyes from his.
A harsh noise escaped his lips then he reached out and grabbed my shoulders. I closed my eyes at the heat of his touch and my lips began to quiver.
“I just wanted you to talk to me….” Rafe spoke softly, his words pained.
I wiped my tears harshly and forced myself to look at him for the last time. His hard glacial eyes study my face.
The memory from this morning continued to fade out of my reach. Pain filled me as I realized that was the last time we would ever be together.
“Am I free to go, Mr. Cameron?”
His face crumbled. For a second, one second, a twisted sense of happiness hit me at the sight of his pain. Rafe did this to us. Not his family, not his friends, but him.
Rafe’s face became very still. He nodded slightly and relief filled me. I stared into his eyes, hoping he could see all the love I had been so willing to shower him with, but it was now too late.
Giving him my back, I allowed the dirty rag in my hand drop. 20 more steps. That’s all that stood between me and the next chapter of my story. One that didn’t include him.
Each step seemed to get heavier the farther I walked away from Rafe. I was wrapped around a haze of heartbreak that almost made my movements mechanical.
I entered the house, numb to the bone, and gathered all my things. Everything around me was out of focus as I dragged my suitcase towards the front door.
I could see Rose from the corner of my eye, her mouth moving, but the ringing in my ears only seemed to get louder. Pushing past her, I headed straight for the door and forced myself not to look back.
Everything was different now. In a way, so was I.
One foot in front of the other, I walked down the drive way. The ringing in my ears and the adrenaline that pumped through my veins was suddenly dulled at the sound of the door slamming open behind me.
Loud footsteps echoed behind me before my arms are grabbed and I’m forced to turn around.
Rafe’s eyes were wild with panic as he panted in front of me. His entire appearance was disheveled with his hair sticking out in all directions.
“Don’t go.”
I was so close to being out of his grasp and being free of this agony that gripped me so tightly it made it hard to breathe.
“You were never mine. Were you?” The question slipped past my lips before I knew it.
“I love you. I do, please just come back inside and I’ll do what you want. I’ll tell Ward and Rose right now.” His blue eyes held so much hope, but it wasn’t enough. The magic was all gone, replaced with this cruel torment.
“I was yours, in every way possible. But, it didn’t matter what I did. I still wasn’t enough for you. I’m never going to be good enough, am I?” My voice cracked, but the words were out along with the realization of how painfully accurate they were.
Warm hands cradled my face pulling me towards his. Rafe rested his forehead on mine, his eyes boring into mine. I could feel the slight tremble in his hands.
“That’s not true. You know that’s not true.”
“How could I possibly know that? You never do anything that says otherwise.”
“I love a man who can’t even hold my hand in public.” He couldn’t hold me gaze, instead he turned it to the floor with his jaw clenched.
“You knew who I was when we started this. You knew what came with being with a Cameron. Our situation is much more complicated than you’re making it fucking seem. So I didn’t hold your hand, now you’re going to leave me?”
His logic was horribly flawed.
“Our situation is not complicated. All you had to do was love me the way I loved you.”
“Whether you like it or not, you’re a fucking maid,” Rafe said through gritted teeth,” The maid to my family, no less, and you expect to be welcomed in with open arms? This isn’t a fairytale, wake up.”
”Then what was the point of all of this? Of me loving you and you loving me, if it was never going to go anywhere.”
“The point was that we were together and we were happy.” Rafe let out a frustrated noise and shook his head. But it was clear, he wasn’t getting it. I knew nothing I’d say would ever get through to him.
“Were we? Together, I mean. Because I was always at your beck and call. Literally and figuratively. Where were you for my college graduation? Where were you when my dad died? I’ll tell you where you were,” I pressed my finger into his chest, “You. Weren’t. There. Instead, you chose to love me from afar because you care more about the opinion of sheep than you do me.”
I couldn’t stop talking. It was as though a wall cracked and suddenly every emotion I held in was flooding through.
“Look at me.” I shouted, grabbing his chin and forcing him to stare. “I want you to look me in the fucking eye. Look at the damage you caused. You did this to us. ”
“Stop being cruel.”
“Cruel? You threw your drink on the floor and made me clean it up. Did seeing me on my knees make you feel big and strong?”
He tilted his head, his expression darkening. “Enough. Come back inside, now.”
“I wanted everything for you.” I laughed at how incredibly stupid and blind I had been. “And you can’t even hold my fucking hand.”
Race’s eyes softened marginally. “Tell me what to do. How can I fix this?”
My stomach tightened. Steeling myself, I swallowed the lump in my throat and pushed out the next words. “You can’t.”
“I can, but you’re not give me a fucking chance here.” His words came out as a plea.
“Being with you was a choice I made every day. One that you clearly couldn’t make, so I’m making it for you. We’re done.
His jaw ticked. ”Try and fucking leave me.”
I wanted nothing more than to run back into his arms and comfort him, despite it all. But I knew, if I was going to survive this at all, I couldn’t be with him.
“I’m always running behind you, trying to keep up. Trying to be everything you want and everything you need, but I’m all out of breath. I have nothing left to give you. But it’s still more than you ever gave me.” With those being my parting words, I clutched onto the handle of my suitcase in a death grip and force myself to walk away from him.
My shoulders jump at the sound of something shattering behind me.
“I love you.” Rafe screamed at the top of his lungs from behind me. His voice was brutal and laced with pain.
Not enough.
_________________
Side note: pls let me know what you think! I’ve been gone for several months so I’m a bit rusty:) I am working on the second part of Hate as promised!
#outerbanks imagine#obx#outer banks#outer banks fanfiction#rafe cameron#drew starkey#outer banks season 3#rafe imagine#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron angst#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron x reader#rafe x reader#rafe cameron imagines#rafe angst#outer banks angst#drew starky angst#outer banks netflix#outer banks imagines#obx rafe cameron#rafe obx#obx angst
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