𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖…

𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖…

𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖…

+ itoshi sae x f!reader | wc 2.5k | content: fluff, pining, mentions of fake dating, jealousy, reader is kind of an idiot, sae loves to tease, best friend otoya, cussing

notes: hello hello i’m on board the sae love train once more , are you guys still with me ^_^

summary: what do you do when your best friend kind of sort of forces you to confess your two-year long crush when you’re not ready to? pray and hope for the best.

𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖…

“i could just tell him for you.”

“eita, fuck no,” you throw him a warning glare as you chop the vegetables up with scary precision despite not having an eye on them. only because you know if you don’t explicitly tell him not to, that he’d think it’s no big deal and do it anyway.

and let’s say, you’d rather die than let that happen.

sure, you and sae had been closer back in high school; he sat behind you and entertained the secret notes you passed to him, he used to ruffle the top of your head whenever you pouted, he used to buy food for you during breaks.

but that’s all in the past and somehow, the both of you had drifted since then.

otoya deadpans, an unamused pair of eyes looking back at you from their spot across the island. “it’s been what, four fucking years since you graduated? grow a pair,” he retorts, attempting to steal a carrot but getting a slap on the back of his hand instead.

“bold of you to say that to a girl with a knife,” you snap at him, pointing the blade at his face.

to which he merely rolls his eyes, using two fingers to push it aside. “not like you’re that good at using it.” but he sighs when you silently turn your attention back to chopping vegetables. “does that mean i have to put up with your miserable face even longer?”

you and otoya continue to bicker, and you’re beginning to wonder how you’ve tolerated being best friends with him for the past four years. he’s a real piece of work.

“fine, fine,” otoya grumbles after you’re done with lunch, bangs over his eyes. “i promise i won’t tell sae anything, okay?”

that’s after you threatened not to let him hijack your house anymore for food. for someone who’s earning big bucks being a famous soccer player, you can’t make sense of why he won’t just get food delivered. maybe he just likes to annoy you.

“good. or else i’ll kill you.”

𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖…

your crush on itoshi sae has been somewhat dormant for the past few years. and by dormant you mean that you haven’t tried making any moves because you’re too scared.

itoshi sae. one of the most famous international breakout stars in soccer. one of the most talented playmakers the world has ever seen. that comes with its own sets of pros and cons.

pros? he definitely doesn’t seem like he has much trouble doing anything he wants. he gets paid for every game. he gets paid for gigs. he gets sponsorships all over the place. which basically means that financially, he doesn’t need to give a shit.

cons? the media can be brutal. sae does something that’s remotely questionable and they’re all over it. he doesn’t thank a waiter that one time? automatically labeled as a rude brat by the paparazzi. and not to mention—the amount of girls he’s forced to fake date just for the sake of publicity.

you’re mostly pressed on that last part though, because they’re all supermodels or olympic stars or rich socialites. and compared to them, well, you’re just someone who happens to be in the same friend group and hang out together every once in a while when he’s back in japan. sae doesn’t even hang out much with the group, to your dismay.

it’s a pain, or so he says.

you wonder how you drifted in the first place. maybe it’s just the fame. you wonder if he thinks of you too sometimes.

must be your wishful thinking.

kind of makes you wonder whether he does have a secret girlfriend that he’s keeping from everyone. you wouldn’t really put it past him. it’s not like he has any super deep emotional bonds with any of you (that you know of). eita says he’s definitely single, but you think he’s just saying that to appease you. he already has his hands full having to watch you mope whenever you see news of sae and another girl and yet another dating rumor.

just as well. you think sae could do better than you, spending your friday nights at home, washing dishes at the sink and looking out at the tokyo skyline instead of out partying and living life with countless friends.

you don’t think you’re too shabby though. you’re a fresh graduate with a job at one of the most prestigious companies in tokyo you can think of. it’s not bad. but you can’t help but feel it’s worlds away from the one sae lives in.

the doorbell rings, snapping you out of your thoughts, nearly dropping the white marble plate you’re washing. your eyes snap to the clock in the living room. it’s almost 9pm—right about the time when eita usually comes knocking and asking you for supper.

groaning, you wash whatever’s left of the dish soap away from your hands and sloppily dry them against the bottom of your shirt, grumbling out loud about how you really should stop coming here whenever the fuck you want, eita while you stomp over to the front door.

you open the door, messy hair and bare face and baggy clothes, fully expecting to smack some sense into otoya eita when you feel yourself freeze up at the pair of eyes looking back at you.

they’re teal and framed by pretty long lashes and definitely don’t belong to your best friend.

what the fuck is he doing here?

this is one of the rare times that you’d actually prefer to see eita at your front door instead.

sae raises a brow, giving you a once-over. of course, he’s never seen you in this state—hair disheveled, clothes wrinkled, not a trace of makeup on your face. you’d made sure that whenever there was a possibility that sae would see you that you dressed yourself up as nice as possible. if you’d known he was coming over, you’d have at least dressed decently. definitely not baggy shirt and pants that you can barely see.

“uh… w-what are you doing here?” stupid, but the best you can manage.

he has his hands in his gray sweat pockets, and fuck him for wearing a black compression top. you can just make out the outline of his abs under there, the muscles on his arms already much too obvious with those short sleeves.

“dunno, eita said there was an emergency and i needed to get here,” sae says, wholly unbothered, monotonous as usual. he lets himself in, toeing his shoes off at the entryway, positioning them neatly beside your everyday sneakers.

fucking eita.

judging by what you know, sae was probably on his way for an evening jog when otoya called him. he still has his wireless earbuds in. you wonder if anything’s even playing.

sae takes it off once he catches you staring.

he’s not carrying anything. it’s just him. you wonder if anyone managed to catch him coming over. is his most recent pr stunt already over? won’t do either of you any good if he’s labeled as a cheater.

“so? what is it?” sae asks you, again, while he walks himself inside, curious eyes looking around your apartment, and suddenly you’re hyper aware. you hope to god you didn’t leave any of your inner wear lying around at random places.

in a panic, you rush over to him, blocking his path inside, both hands on his chest as you attempt to push him back to the front door. unfortunately for you, sae’s much stronger than you are, his body not budging an inch.

“it’s nothing, he made a mistake,” you sigh, giving up when you figure that sae’s only going to move of his own accord. “he’s probably just playing a prank on you, that’s all.”

you’re hoping, praying, wishing that sae will just take your word for it and go. because that’s what he does; he doesn’t hover much, doesn’t care about anything much at all. you don’t even know the last time he’s asked about how any of your lives are doing.

the world must hate you though, because sae only offers a grunt in response before looking towards your kitchen (you’re internally sighing in relief, glad that you cleaned your kitchen up before this). “i’m thirsty, you have anything to drink?”

you blink at him, stumped that sae is wasting his precious time in your apartment, but who are you to say no to sae, of all people?

“yeah, sure, juice?”

sae shrugs, “whatever.”

you turn your back on him, slowly taking your carton of apple juice and finding the nicest glass that exists in your cupboard, cursing yourself internally for not preparing for unexpected guests enough. you do this slowly partly because you’re trying to calm your stupid heart down, still not fathoming why on earth sae’s wasting his time with you.

carefully, you rehearse yourself in your head, where you’re going to step, how you’re going to walk over to him—you really are just hopeless. count it your bad luck that the moment you turn around, you nearly drop the glass because you’re forgetting a really fundamental issue here: your merch.

“no no no, uh—” you leave the glass on the countertop, scurrying over to where sae’s staring and thumbing at something on your coffee table.

sae looks at your flustered reaction, giving you way to grab your things off the table and stuff them in the drawer where they’re out of sight. he blinks at you, a slight amusement bubbling inside him.

“wow, big fan, huh?”

you don’t know what’s worse: you being your most unpresentable self right now or that sae just caught you having some of his merch.

“so you have some of eita’s merch lying around too or is it just mine?”

you could die of embarrassment right now.

back still turned to sae, you desperately search your brain for answers. thinking on the spot doesn’t seem like your strong suit right now.

“it… was a gift.” believable, right?

sae hums, as though he’s contemplating. “why just mine then? why not oliver’s or my brother’s?”

fuck.

“i don’t know, maybe yours was the only one that wasn’t sold out.”

“ouch.”

you didn’t mean to indirectly insult him but what’s a drowning girl to do?

sae sighs when you keep quiet, still staying out where you are, trembling too much to move. “didn’t know you were in love with me.”

this time, you whip your head around to face him—that same stoic expression of his unchanging on his face. “am not!”

his brows shoot up. “but you bought some of my merch.”

“i told you, it was a gift.”

you need to get paid for still standing up on your own two feet right now. your head’s way too giddy from the interaction, considering.

“even that figurine over there?” sae’s finger points to a small toy just barely visible behind the nooks of the bookshelf. it’s a small figurine; something sold a few years back when sae was just first starting out. you’d bought it because, well, you’d thought chibi sae looked cuter than actual sae. (especially now when he’s just staring blankly at you.)

“that was…”

“a gift?”

you think he’s making fun of you now at this point.

“anyway, we’ve established that there’s no emergency here so why don’t you just go?” you’re pretty sure sae won’t ever talk to you again—not after coming across what he did tonight. he probably thinks you’re a freak, probably questions why he even considers you his friend (to which you’re now wondering if that’s even true at all).

you make a mental reminder to yourself to kill otoya eita tomorrow.

sae lets you push him towards the entryway, apple juice long forgotten on the countertop, collecting condensation with water pooling below the glass.

“you must like me a lot, huh?” he ponders out loud as you continue pushing him towards the door. you see a hint of cockiness in his stare now, the slightest tug of a smirk on the corner of his lips.

“i do n—”

“be careful what you say,” sae cuts you off, toeing his shoes back on, looking glamorous as ever and you nearly forget that he looks straight out of a magazine even in his sportswear. “‘cause i’ll believe you.”

part of you wants him to just go already so your knees can buckle under, but part of you wants to ask him what he means. what’s he insinuating? isn’t the answer clear enough.

but now it’s way past nine and he’s all ready to go yet he’s still standing at your doorway, waiting for your answer. you want to scream no, you want to keep your secret safe, you don’t want him to know about the crush you’d been harbouring. but he told you to be careful what you say because he’ll believe you.

“s-so what if i do?” you stutter, failing to look him in the eyes, your stare focused on the air in between you.

sae’s features soften ever so slightly, like he wasn’t expecting you to give in so quickly, but it isn’t one of disgust. it’s more like one of pleasant surprise.

after what seems like an eternity, sae finally opens his mouth.

“you must’ve gotten jealous a lot with all those girls i’d gone out with.”

your fist instinctively connect with his arm, his stoic finally giving way to a grimace, palm rubbing his triceps in pain. out of all the things to say, he chooses to say that? you think he deserves it.

“you know what, sae? you can go back to your fake girlfriends, i could care less,” you snap at him, pouting. you hate that despite how ignorant his words are that you can’t find it in yourself to hate him.

sae exhales sharply, chuckling softly when he sees your pout, and you feel as though it’s the first time you’ve seen him like this even though it’s not. his hand comes up to ruffle the top of your head gently, and you’re reminded of when he did this to you back in high school.

“can’t do that, can i?” he tells you, that soft disposition gone and the stoic mischief coming right back. “not when i’m in front of who could be my real girlfriend.”

your heart might’ve forgotten how to beat.

sae leaves you standing there, left to your own devices as he exits your apartment, fully aware of his effect on you.

not long after he leaves (while you’re still standing in the doorway), your phone buzzes in your pocket. you fish it out and see his name there for the first time in a long time.

𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖…

you smile to yourself as you read his message. okay, so maybe you’ll spare eita’s life for now.

𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖…

More Posts from Xkoutarou and Others

1 year ago
┌─ “ ! „ CADAVER

┌─ “ ! „ CADAVER

tw. wound fucking, blood, gore, don’t read this if you’re squeamish!!, somnophilia, oral, noncon, megumi is delusional in this, yandere, belly bulge but gross! , cannibalistic thoughts wordcount. 6.4k

a/n. this one,,, was me pushing myself to just go buck wild, and channel my inner junji, and i think i got somewhere with it... a select few of you will understand me when i say that ,, this is like my love letter to megumi fr ♡ like i said though, this one might be the one that has people a little yucked out but! it's basically my halloween fic, for the spooky month

fushiguro megumi x fem!reader

┌─ “ ! „ CADAVER

When the rattling of the stretcher finally quiets in the halls and the rising rate of adrenaline starts to flatten out, Megumi’s lost on what to do. Any of the other sorcerers can’t decide what the next step is either, it seems. Yuji with his back pressed against the glass and staring off into the empty part of the hall they just came from, and principal Yaga a stern quietness and arms crossed. Ieiri-san will do her best work today of any days if there’s anything to be done about it, but Megumi can tell. That uncertainty hangs over all of them as the faint breathing of a collapsed body grows more pitched and panicked.

Megumi always sort of hated you. He didn’t like you from the second he first met you, and it just grew and grew and grew from there. He hates your stupid demeanor with your higher-than-thou morals and your sky-high milestones and that grin that could make even the coldest heart split in two. It doesn’t escape him that this is the same reason he always did enjoy Maki, but you were — more recognizable to him, and yet somehow much further away.

He always hated the way he’d catch himself watching the soft motion of your lashes, or how your mouth would form words, the heat that would carry color to your face. He always hated the quiet moments you’d sit by his side, rattling his heart out of his chest and laughing at him for his hot cheeks; and he always hated how you’d be the thought on his mind right after he’d made sure his own limbs hadn’t yet been blown to bits. But standing with his hands covered in a coating of blood that isn’t his, dripping onto the panes of the old flooring, he wonders what that hatred ever really got him. It never helped him understand you better, that for someone so alike himself, you were so much better at everything.

His chest is rising and falling too fast.

Gojo’s too late, always is when it comes down to the wire, Megumi thinks as the lankier man rushes through and stops a few feet away from them. Yaga’s brow pinches, before he lifts his head the slightest bit to acknowledge the white blond. “What’s the status,” Gojo has to ask, and before he has another conscious thought, Megumi’s furiously rubbing his hands over his sweater in an attempt to get the blood off while his teeth clack with how hard he’s clenching them. There’s a thickness between his ears that makes everything sound far off. The blood stains his fingers the more he rubs, and his face gets hotter and hotter as it lasts.

But he thinks he hears the principal explain.

How you had been pinned down and knocked clean out, head bashed against the concrete pillars. How Megumi had been too busy trying and failing to keep the uglier curse from blasting you both to shit, to notice. How the other special grade had picked you up by the neck and unceremoniously shoved something into your mouth and pushed until it went down your throat - until you started convulsing, spitting out blood and bile before he could reach you. Megumi hadn’t taken the time to look then, but he knows now what it was, slimy, decaying contents of a little vial that had gone missing a few months ago.

“The girl must’ve been a real good match.” Yaga pushes his fingers to his brow, as if forcibly trying to push the frown down. “Ieiri’s doing what she can.” It doesn’t make any of them feel better when Gojo clicks his tongue and aims his eyes at the door, before casting a quick glance at Megumi under thick, blond lashes. He wants to puke. He’d shoved his fingers down your throat for what felt like hours, trying desperately to get you to throw up the curse. Had carried you all the way back while you were sobbing and wailing in pain. Nothing.

If even the worst case repeats itself, they’ll have another incarnation on their hands, and the noose will be tightened around your throat. Yuji must have already realized this, because he’s yet to say anything since you’d been tied onto the stretcher with blood pouring out of your nose and ears and coughing up grime. Megumi’s not even sure if Ieiri would hesitate to put you down without a second warning before it gets to the same turning point. And he is pissed. At the situation, his friends, himself, you. He’s so angry his hands shake, and so angry tears start stinging behind his eyes, feeling like any motion might cause him to throw up. He hates you.

+

Your chest’s rising with big motions up and down, up and down, as you drum your feet on his bedsheets like an excited rabbit. Megumi grunts, snatches the book from your hands and tosses it back down with the others that were not-so-neatly stacked on his desk. Your shape on his bed makes a dent in his mind that he’ll have to keep replaying over and over when he closes his eyes, and it has a frown pulling his eyebrows down automatically. “So grumpy,” you yawn, and also roll over onto your stomach to tuck your legs to your core, lifting one hand to rest your face into it.

“This isn’t your room.”

“Might as well be,” you giggle back, and he watches for a moment as your hair falls along your shoulders in a gentle brush, making you look even more enchanting. You’re soft and parts of you are shiny like silk, seemingly oozing your rosy, peachy aura all over his stuff. You catch his eyes for just a few breaths, still rising your chest too distractingly, before you push yourself up and slide off the bed to walk up to him. He pivots to thumb through the notes on his desk again, to be farther away from your face probably, and his shoulders rise into an uncomfortable pinch when you approach, feet patting on his floor. “Megumi.” You say his name with a clear pout.

Then heat covers his skin at the base of his throat and he freezes, letting the way you drag your soft lips over his pulse fill him up entirely. His hands shake too hard to keep a grip on the paper, so he spins you around and shoves you back against the desk as you hiss at the sudden painful grip, his fist wrapped into the collar of your shirt. “I already told you to stop doing that.” He hisses, and your eyes are wide and glittering like diamonds, beautiful color peering up at him.

“But you like it when I do that,” you whisper back ever so softly, and his head feels like it’s splitting at the seams, cracking his skull under a non-escapable pressure. He can’t think, can’t even eat normally without the ghost of you hanging over him and shaking him up. It’s unbearable even when you’re not around. His fist unclenches from the flimsy fabric to instead grip your chin with his thumb, and his heart bangs against his ribcage harder than can be normal. Harder than is healthy. A little thought in the back of his skull begs to push. Just once, deny you from digging your claws deeper into him— but he’s already melted to your shape before he can blink.

His face drops like you’re magnetic, thighs pushing you further into the desk and also into him; and it’s truly embarrassing that his hands are still shaking like they do. You lean in when he does, and let your lips meet his hungry, treacherous mouth, other hand sliding to your waist to pull you closer. Your tongue brushes his and he implodes inside, and he swears it hurts to be this close to you.

Not that you care. Your arms wind around his neck to pull him even closer, and his blood feels like it’s boiling under his skin.

+

He finds himself wandering back to the quieter wing of the school when the sun’s already dipped far past the horizon, and the cold starts picking up. He’s dragging his feet, so he won’t fucking rush back to the room he finds himself thinking about so fast he stumbles. He’s glaring at the patterns in the floorboards so he doesn’t cry. You’re stable- quiet puffs of air escaping your nose every few seconds, but you’re still under surveillance. As far as the clans are concerned, they’ll put something sharp between your eyes sooner rather than later, before whatever’s slumbering inside you wakes up. But Gojo’s fighting for you. It makes him grimace to think about.

Knocking his knuckles onto the doorframe, he enters the dimly lit room. Nanami doesn’t stand when he spots him, but does uncross his legs as he takes a deep breath. Neither of them speak for a while, and the dark haired man takes that time to run his eyes over you. You’re not as dirty as you were when you first got back, shivering and shaking. You’re no longer dripping with blood, though he’s sure if he were to look close enough, he’d still be able to see flecks of it between your cracked lips. As he walks up, he finds himself thinking that you look strangely peaceful, and that doesn’t seem entirely right.

Save for the bloody mark that seems branded into your forehead, you look like you’re quietly sleeping on the metal slab that supports your body. After all the pain and agony you’ve caused in him, sleepless nights and long days of wondering, hoping you’d be okay. Why is it that he’s the one affected by you? Why is it that he’s the one who’s going to have to say goodbye again? He stares at your unmoving form as if that’ll give him an answer, but it doesn’t. And the pit in his stomach swells again. He’s just so angry all the time. Megumi breathes out. “It’s my turn to take watch for a while.”

“You’re early,” Nanami’s deep baritone chastises, but he gets up from the seat anyway. He smooths out the wrinkles in his suit, before slowly placing a hand on the other’s shoulder. The weight is heavy, and somehow doesn’t soothe him at all. But there’s an attempt, he guesses. He’s still not entirely sure why everyone is looking at him like he’s the one who needs it most, broken and disheveled and mourning. He’s been able to finish his tasks like everyone else has, and he can banish the thought of you when he’s supposed to focus on work— at least, mostly. He doesn’t need the fucking pity. “Want some coffee? Or green tea?” Nanami asks, letting his hand slide off when Megumi shrugs.

“No. I’m okay.”

The older man seems to hesitate, simply nodding when he walks past. Before closing the door behind him, he once again clears his voice, and Megumi turns over his shoulder. The blond has this look in his eyes, of pity, as he talks. “Megumi, there’s a chance she pulls through.” Why again - that fucking pity? “Don’t give up.” Though it makes him tingle with an unbearable sort of itch deep under the skin, he grits his teeth, and his brain’s hot and irritated when he responds.

“I wasn’t going to.” Nanami doesn’t seem to believe him, but still softly slides the door closed behind him, and when the footsteps grow softer and softer, Megumi allows for a second to collect himself. He braces his hands onto the metal as he leans in, close enough to feel just the slightest bit of your warmth on his fingers, and see the way you’re still breathing, though shallow, too faint for his liking. His brows pinch when he finds himself with his forehead pressed to your stomach, hunched over like he’s praying at your shrine or something. But he can’t help it.

As much time as he spent beside you with a frown on his face, it never feels enough. He can’t stay away, like it’s an involuntary thing— you leave him no choice in the matter. Even here in the darkness, whining softly into your wheezed breaths, it isn’t enough to be beside you. He can’t do anything from here at your bedside; and that uselessness makes him feel even more uneasy. He needs to be closer to you. Wants to be so close you two get stuck together and melt together like an inseparable entity, would want to crawl inside you if he could.

His nose presses into the clean shirt that smells like your laundry, as he clenches his fists so hard along the table edge they start to ache. His eyes are pressed closed tight when he allows him just a second to nose below your sternum, and that uncomfortable stinging sensation comes back to his eyes. “Fucking idiot,” his lips brush against your covered skin, taking in the lack of heat, of your smell and the way you sounded with his face buried there, “I didn’t mean it.”

+

“Aw, ow, ow, Megumi~” You pout with a pitched whine as his hand stays screwed around your knee for a little longer, keeping you trapped under his heavier, taller body so that you start wiggling. Your head falls back against his arm, and you lean to press a few kisses to his wrist that’s holding your own to the floor. “Be more gentle.” You pout when you pull back and flash him that fucking look that sends icy shivers down his spine, and exactly nothing else. “You can be gentle, can’t you?” Every other part of him flushes with heat under your doe-eyed, pitiful look, definitely when you start wiggling out of his grasp like you’re suddenly over the game.

You started it. He wouldn’t put himself in your range on purpose. When you’re about halfway out from under his crouched form, you sit up to be face to face; and you brush your hand past his ear, down his jaw and neck and trail his collarbones, all places he’s convinced are now stained a bright, obnoxious pink from his flush. You let your fingers linger when you tilt your head aside a bit so you can slot your lips over his into a sweet, little kiss, and you pull your lips into another pout. “Swear you’re doing it to hurt me sometimes. I’m never trying to hurt you, you know.” A few strands of hair fall over your eye when you sit below him, and he has to fight every single muscle in his body not to push it back for you.

He wants to see your eyes. He wants you to see him like this, pinned under you like the attraction you render him as— his body collapses on top of you as you start giggling all fucking cutely, and his heart races more than it ever has. Your heartbeat drums into his face when he buries it into your softness, chest against his cheek, too long for his own sanity before he drags himself off you. And it is a drag. His entire body starts feeling sluggish when you’re this close to him, close enough to drown himself in your scent. He won’t ever say it, but that scent gets him hard and awfully mellow all at once, his cock coming to life in his pants before he’s moving.

You look happy. Your eyes are those bright, gentle colors that rain down on him, and your lips are quirked into a soft smile, you must know what you’re doing to him. Setting him up for failure again. He huffs and pushes himself onto his back instead, knocking his head to the floor while you’re moving from the rug - splaying your knees either side of him before you nuzzle right back on top of his chest and make it even harder to get a breath, let alone catch it. He’s sure he’s panting a little when you leave your warmth draped all over him, and you don’t do anything other than be there.

His arms are still on the floor, his body rigid under you, but you’re softly giggling into his peck before he frowns down at you again when you catch his eyes. “What?”

“Your heart is beating super fast,” you admit, not proud, not gloating - just stating the fact, and heat overtakes his neck now too. Instead of letting you wind him up any further, he bucks you off and switches positions again, now with your two wrists caught in his hands as you squeak with the ache that probably lodges in your back.

“Can you get off of me?” He sits back on his feet, not letting go of your hands yet, before your eyes flutter and you grab him back. Well, brush your fingers over the skin you can reach, pawing at him just enough to tickle. “What’s with you today?” he bites back, and also snatches his hands back to escape the onslaught of feelings that wash over him. You don’t sit up this time, and from the tilt of your head, you’re considering your answer for a while before you speak out.

“Do you like me, Megumi?” Fuck. His room seems to collapse in on itself. Or, maybe it’s his body— because he gets a little more short of breath, and his thoughts short circuit as his mouth stupidly drops open. He’s choked up for long enough that he has to clear his voice to try an answer, and even then, he gets stuck. You’re studying him so closely it must show. The blaring warmth that fills him up and makes his ears bright red. After another second, your eyes seem to dim slightly, as you push your cheek to your shoulder, opening yourself up to even more attacks. “Love y’, ‘gumi.”

+

He straightens up with enough tightness in his chest to choke him, makes his eyes sting and his head blare cold, painful warnings— he grabs some of the glasses from the small table beside him, launches it straight into the wall until it shatters into a million pieces upon impact. The loud clang doesn’t do anything to settle his anger, where he fists his hands into his hair and pulls, in hopes the worry will somehow vanish.

“Why do you always have to be such a hero?” he hisses, even though you can’t answer now, “wouldn’t it have been enough to just stay here with me?!” He tilts your face to his and drops his lips to yours, and that familiar softness is enough to have him clenching his eyes shut again against the tears. He kisses you until your mouth opens a bit, then slides his tongue up against yours and grips your shoulders, pulling your limp body towards him more. “I’ll be better to you.” He pleads. You don’t move, and the breaths going over his cheeks are so shallow.

But he can’t stop himself from tangling your tongue with his, licking into your mouth and chasing the warmth until he runs out of breath. You’re so fucking pretty still. He kisses you again, bumping teeth, and grips your hip hard as he lays over you a little more, chest to chest and feeling it brush against him with each soft pant he lets out, each gravelly moan. It doesn’t hurt so much to brush his tongue against yours, to swallow your taste on his tongue until his lips numb — but while it doesn’t ache, it’s also not enough. Before he’s able to think about the morality of his actions, his thumbs are hooking under your shirt and pushing it up, over your soft belly and ribcage all the way up until it’s over your tits, where his lips travel to as soon as the skin’s exposed. You’re so soft still, too.

He’s not sure what he’s doing other than leaving messy, open mouth kisses onto you, kneading your skin between his hands as all the warmth in his body pools into his groin. Your tits are sucked into his mouth, one then the other, as he rubs his face into the doughy skin, then he’s pulling and pinching at your tits like he knows makes you whimper. The sound’s burned into his working memory, and it drives him on to run his face down your soft body to the part where your thighs meet. The skin just above your skirt of the softest, warmest, and he full on moans when his cock twitches hard in his pants and he reaches down to grab himself.

Normally you’d be blinking up at him now, sending him that little look with grabby hands, ready to wrap your puffy lips around him— it’s different when it’s his hand screwed around himself and not even moving yet. he can’t, or he’ll cum in his pants, and he’s not going to waste his cum like that when your warm pussy’s right before him. He’s shaky when he pushes the fabric up, flipping it over your tummy; and groans again when he licks down your panties and mouths at the seat of it. It tastes so much like you his eyes roll back, and his knees give a little, while more precum leaks out of him and into his pants.

He frees his hands momentarily to slide you to the edge of the metallic table, two hands gripping your butt and squeezing, then hooking his finger in your panties to just pull them aside. He doesn’t care about the chaffing he’ll have. Not even a second thought when your little pussy is in front of him, and he pushes his mouth to you for some open mouthed kisses, down to your pussy and back up. Wrapping his mouth around your clit, he sucks hard, and rubs the bud a few times with his tongue. He swears your breathing goes more pitched and heavier when he does, when his fingers trail down your puffier lips to rub the bit of wetness around.

His cock’s painfully hard in his pants, and after a few more times licking you up and down so that your slick covers the entire bottom half of his face, he pushes the zipper down and then takes himself out to watch how red and sore the head of his cock already is, oozing pre and coating both his boxers and his shaft. He spits into his hand to give himself a few tight-wrung pumps, tighter than he likes normally- if he doesn’t, he’ll spill all over your cute, little pussy. He pushes his fingertips inside your now wetter cunt, watching it wink and beg for something to fill, and groans when one finger slides in with ease.

Your soft walls are still soft and hot around him, giving mean licks over your clit again and again in a way that would normally overstimulate you too easily. You don’t whimper or whine now, take his finger nice and sweet inside your squelching, gooey walls, only making a little noise when he slides in a second and he can feel the slight bit of stretching you need. He’s dripping onto the table now, balls tight and heavy - imagines how you moan and look when you’re sucking on them and you smack your lips with each open mouthed kiss or lick. You between his legs is always enough to have his knees giving, and it’s no different now, he has to hold himself up against you before he thinks better of it.

You’re slid back on the table too easily, making room for him when he pushes one of your legs aside— and let out a slight gasp when he hoists himself over your body. He just wants you. So bad. It’s not so embarrassing when you’re not awake to see how fucking crazy he looks, flushed, cock twitching between his legs as he strains to kiss you again, lick over your tongue for more of your taste, and breathes your name. “Baby, fuck- I need to be inside you.” He wants to hide away in your safety forever. A crystalline, fucked up thought springs up in his mind for just a second, but he banishes that with a few blinks.

Instead he lines himself up over your hot, needy pussy and pushes inside just the head at first, grunting tightly at the softness that envelops him. His whole body shudders as he pushes in deeper, feeling that pit in his stomach expand with each inch that he goes deeper, tangles his fingers with yours when he bottoms out and fills you up so well. You’re curled into his touch, and he kisses you, his thoughts blanking as he pulls back, and snaps his hips back inside you. You’re hot and wet and it feels so fucking good, clenching your hand inside his larger one. It’s not fair. He’s losing his mind, and you’re always the end of him.

His cock rubs against your swollen insides with rough, imprecise strokes — he doesn’t mean to, it’s just that trying to focus on anything other than the heat as he slides in and out of your tight pussy is too much. You’re too much; you’re haunting him even now. He kisses down your face to your neck, sucks on your skin and bites down hard enough to make a serious mark, wanting to hear you cry. Normally, you’d cry out his name so pretty, dig your nails into his back until he’s letting you go and grinding back on his cock, but you can’t do that now. His cockhead bumps your spot each time he fucks himself into you further, but it’s not enough.

It’s never been enough. He wants to be closer to you, and that horrible image that was launched into his head creeps back up before his eyes, bloody and horrible. Maybe he always told himself that he hated you because - no matter how much he fought, he would never be able to stomach actually hurting you as much as it hurts him. But now, withering on top of you as his cock thumps with how much blood rushes south, everything else falls away. He wants to claw and bite and carve his way to your insides and make you pay just a little for his sins. His body is coated in a thin sheen of sweat, thighs pumping blood through his body to his lungs, his gut, his cock.

He pulls out of you to kiss down your tits and over your covered ribs, thumbing over the head of his cock and gliding it over your puffy clit, your wet pussy lips and flicking it just in and out of your drooling cunt— before he puts a sloppy few kisses there too, tongue coated in slick. The blood pumps through his head so hard he feels dizzy, pounding behind his eyes as the heat of your cunt overwhelms him entirely. It’s too hard to stay sane -he’s never felt less sane than now- when you’re laying below him like this, ready to leave him all alone. You wormed your way into his heart when he didn’t want it, and now, now that’s all about to end.

His mouth is dry, but he’s drooling as he grips your thigh and kneads the doughy skin of your tummy— looking so soft and warm and perfectly shaped for him. He wants -needs, needs it, to feel you swallow him, ruin him- to cut you open and eat your insides out with the sick force of what he’s feeling right now— he groans your name again, desperately trying and failing to get it out of his head— the more he tries the better it feels to think it. Despite having his fist around the base of his cock, stings of white shoot over your body as he crumples in on himself and paints you with his cum. He’s still hard though, painfully so, and as soon as he’s done cumming he can already feel the building urge to do it again, trailing his shaking fingers down to your clenching pussy and rubbing your clit until your body starts wiggling back just a little too.

Megumi wants to go, bury this urge down and never think of it again. He really does— but it’s like he’s possessed, drooling over your body and flicking his cock in and out of your pussy without sliding back in. He might’ve had it wrong this whole time, but if this is love - God, he loves you, he loves, loves, loves you so much he’s not ever going to have enough. Can’t ever say goodbye, not when his entire soul’s been bound to yours, has been rotted away into nothing like this. There’s only you, and him; and he can’t get close enough to make this fucking feeling go away.

With black spots swimming over his vision, he’s not sure what he’s doing until he’s knelt on the floor and shards of glass cut his knees open through his pants; he doesn’t feel it - just trembles as he gets one of the larger shards and crawls back to you, right between your plush thighs as he kisses your face over and over until he feels like he’ll be sick. “Forgive me when you wake up, baby.” It doesn’t really sound like him anymore, faint and messy as he ruts his cock against the inside of your thigh and stares at your face for a little longer. He paws at your tummy again, maybe it’s the lack of oxygen - he feels like he hasn’t taken a breath in ages - or the fact that all his blood is cleary in his swollen cock, hot and heavy.

He kisses you again, pants against your chest as he watches between your two bodies as one arm keeps him up, and the other drags the shard of glass below your belly button just hard enough to create a little cut. He just- just wants to be a little closer, you’ll let him, you’ll let him- he’s been so fucking mean to you and if he can just do this, he’ll make it up to you. Specks of blood well up that he swipes his thumb through to slide it into his mouth, get used to the taste of copper on his tongue. Sometimes he bites your lip hard enough to split it, and you tear up and whine, tangle your fingers in his hair.

He could cum on the spot when you yank like that, but the taste now isn’t enough. As he pushes the shard of glass into your skin harder, watching one layer make way for another, tougher tissue that still gives when he grids down a little- he waits for the moment where he feels bad, regrets and walks it all back- but the feeling doesn’t come. Your body looks so pretty like this, robbed of your innocence by his hands; and he doesn’t wanna cum yet, fuck. The adrenaline swimming in his head is pounding too hard to feel anything other than love for you, and the pulling, almost unbearable sensation of wanting to slide back into you. The blood pools around the hole as he slides along, hearing the skin squelch and snap, building a sweat along his neck and collar. Maybe you’d lick it up if you were awake.

The blood runs, covers his entire fist that’s wrapped tight around the glass, it creates little rivers that you’ll both be laying in soon. He coughs, before kissing you below your jaw, feeling the weak pulse beneath his lips— and righting himself to look at his work with a better angle, groaning. There’s both more blood and less than he expected, pooling in your belly button, all over your pretty pussy, his thighs and hands- his cock not yet. He drops the glass aside as he thumbs over the wound and sure enough- he’s cut through fat and muscle and sinew without too much struggle, because you’re soft all over.

He pushes the fleshy gash open more, thumbs over the clean cut he made with a strange sort of fascination before the hot, hot blood gets to be too much for his curiosity and he leans in to lick from your clit up, up, up until his tongue reaches the raised, tight skin— what has he done, what’s he doing, this, this isn’t — he can’t stand the heat that’s coming out of you for long, and it smells, but that isn’t what sticks with him right now. He’s never wanted to be closer. The gaping pouch of your belly’s drooling red for him. The head of his cock twitches when he feels the hot of your stomach coating him in blood, and coating you in turn. The cum from before’s all but washed away, but he’s sure he can give you another couple orgasms before he tuckers out.

He’s strung so high all of this feels like a dream, like his head is about to roll off of his neck; he pushes in with a garbled sort of sound that comes from deep, deep inside him. The skin doesn’t wanna give way at first, but he manages to push back hard enough before suddenly he’s inside, and it’s like nothing else. The pressure of a slab of skin taking him where it’s not meant to go— bleeding and whining out like this, it’s euphoric. He’s able to see his cock’s outline glide into you until it’s bulging your stomach, squelching and sucking him back in; feels like you’re taking him deeper than ever, letting him fuck his cock so deep he’ll hit your ribs soon. You’re so fucking beautiful, even like this, getting coated and letting him fuck it.

He doesn’t know what it’s like to feel like you’re dying, but the peace that washes him entirely clean might be close; he grinds his hips into you hard enough to rock your body under him as he laces your hands again. Both, this time, just chasing after an end that seems like it’ll never come.

He feels infinite. Your blood’s so hot it’s almost painful, and the tightness of the hole he carved into you is entirely different from your pussy, pushing back against him like you’re begging him to get out. He imagines you’d beg so pretty- but he’s inside you, finally inside and deeper than anyone’s ever been. He’s able to watch his cock blow up your belly and make it hollow when he pulls back, and God- he should feel worse than he does. He could swallow you whole if you’d let him. The feeling has him shuddering over you as he pants your name, makes your tits brush over his chest- and his balls smack against the smooth stretch of skin until he can’t feel his feet any longer.

Now he’s got you dirtied, he wants to ruin you too, leave you a mangled mess of flesh and swallow every last bit of you until he never forgets the taste. But that would require he’d stop fucking his hot cock into your bloody, little pouch, and that won’t happen. He’s panting, sweat running down his back from the effort, and his groin starts to feel a little raw too. He might’ve been going for hours by now, licking your mouth clean from his drool only to dirty you again. The head of his cock feels fucked raw inside you, and his thighs shake before his shoulders square over you.

Megumi speeds up his pace fucking into your guts -actually- until he clenches every muscle, is overcome again and reaches heaven inside you, spurting creamy white into the pouch he’s created for himself; “Fuck, fuck, fuckfuckfuckfuck,” his hand has to twist into an uncomfortable position to reach for your clit, but he wildly does it anyway— cramping up, until he’s collapsing on top of you and stilling inside. The stench of blood makes the entire room smell, as he thumbs over the side of your blood-coated thigh with one hand, and feels the shaking all the way up and down his spine. He pulls out so slowly, pumping the last bits of cum out with a throaty moan, before he slides off the table onto awfully shaky legs.

If he was any more lucid, he’d think twice before leaning by your side to kiss your eyes, your nose, your pouty lips as the tears that must’ve been building for a while run down your temple— and suppresses the need to actually eat you- for now, he rubs a softer hand over your exposed tummy, before folding the now blood-drenched fabric of your skirt back down to hide your puffy pussy, lest he be tempted again. He whispers his love into your ears, nuzzles at your hairline until the feeling comes back to his hands and feet and he tucks his spent cock back into his boxers, and goes about cleaning the mess he made of the floor.

It’s only when an uncomfortable scratchy sound comes that he notices the burning heat on his neck, the dried sweat painfully sticky— and straightens up beside you when you start to shake again. Immediately his worry is sky high. Even in the gross air of mixed blood and cum and the scent of sex soaking everything, his mind is just clear enough to hold your head when you thrash around a few times, and your chest rises wildly up and down. Then before his very eyes, the damage he’d done upon you slowly starts to stitch itself together, like weaving threads. Lacing you up until every bit of muscle, fat, and skin restores to it’s pristine glory before he ever touched you, with a little puff of cursed energy.

He bites his lip hard when the shaking stops, and your back lands back onto the metal with a soft clang. The noise is louder now it’s quiet in the room. Megumi waits for a bit longer before he brushes the hair from your face, and doesn't mind it that he’s leaving tracks. The darkness is filled with his tense breathing, and then — every sound at once. Your eyes shoot open with a cry, sobbing out like a baby for a few painful seconds. But then spot him thumbing your tears away devoted like he is -though he won’t admit it to you, and you let out a noise of pure relief.

It’s almost poetic, when you crash back into his arms and this time, he lets your arms wind around his waist.

┌─ “ ! „ CADAVER

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4 years ago

:0 your sleeping on the couch thing was so nice!! If it’s not too much, could you do something similar with Atsumu, Oikawa, and Bokuto?

sleeping on the couch after an argument part two

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feat. Atsumu, Oikawa, Bokuto

♡ warning: angst, happy ending

♡ a/n: ahhh I'm glad you liked it hehe

♡ part one

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ATSUMU

arguments with Atsumu are the worst sometimes because he just expects you to see things from his point of view??

and when you pointed this out to him, he was not happy to hear that

so instead of acknowledging it, he changed the subject

"Let’s just go to bed, I have an early practice tomorrow” he says, making his way to your bedroom first

and of course you’re livid because he just chose to hold off on the argument

like heck you’d sleep in the same room as him

you lay down on the couch, curling up and draping the throw blanket over you

a few moments after closing your eyes, you sense a looming presence

fluttering your eyes open, you see Atsumu hovering above you, still looking annoyed

“What the heck do ya think yer doing?” he asks, and scoops you from the couch and towards your room

“Put me down ‘Tsumu!” you’re doing your best to thrash around in his arms, but his grip on you is too strong

“Yer acting really petty- sleeping on the couch is a tad dramatic don’t ya think?” he says, setting you down on your side of the bed before heading to his side

“I’m not! I’m seriously upset with you and I don’t want to sleep in the same bed as you Atsumu!”

you watch the panic set into Atsumu’s eyes when he realized that yes, you were 100% serious

instantly wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his chest

“please don’t say that Y/n. you didn’t mean that did you? I’m really sorry I know I’m a selfish idiot”

to him, hearing those words from you stung him. the fact that you were so fed up with your boyfriend that you couldn’t stand to even sleep near him made him worried that you were slowly starting to stop loving him

the tone in his voice is enough to calm you down

“no I don’t mean it.. I’m sorry too, I’m just tired and wasn’t thinking.” you reply, stroking his hair. and he starts to calm down too

you feel Atsumu nod his head

“okay, well let’s get proper rest and talk about this in the morning rationally” he says, kissing your forehead

“I thought you had an early practice”

“that can wait, you’re more important” he mumbles, hugging you closer to him and slowly drifting to sleep

OIKAWA

arguments with Oikawa can get stressful

because it’s clear he knows what the issue is- but sometimes his pride just gets in the way of admitting his wrongs

during your latest argument, he accidentally snaps at you for being too much and how he already knows what you told him

he calms down for a bit, but doesn’t realize how his words stung you

“let’s just go to bed” he sighs and makes way towards your bedroom

you’re honestly really hurt, and it feels just wrong to go to bed during this entire debacle, so instead you lay down on the couch to sleep

the argument itself was extremely tiring for you, so you’re able to fall asleep in no time at all

but Oikawa’s still awake in bed, just scrolling through his phone waiting for you to come in

after sometime of mindlessly going through social media, it finally hits him that he’s been waiting for a considerable amount of time

his first thought is that you were still riled up and just didn’t want to go to sleep right at this moment, so he heads out to the living room to get you to go to bed

"Y/n-chan, c’mon time to go to sleep. You can’t just stay up that’s not good ..” he stops talking the moment he sees you fast asleep on the couch

and now he’s freaking out. it’s not that you didn’t want to sleep- it’s that you didn’t want to sleep with him

which says a lot about how you currently feel about him and your argument

he panics and rushes over to the couch to wake you up

“I- wha? What do you want Tooru?” you groan, keeping your eyes shut

“I’m sorry!” he says, throwing his arms around you

“...what?” you’re starting to wake up more, but you definitely heard him apologize

“I said I’m sorry. I don’t want to argue anymore if it means you refusing to sleep in the same bed as me” you’re now fully awake and look at your boyfriend, and you can see the alarm in his expression

he’s just too scared to lose you, and he’s afraid that if hets you sleep on the couch just this once, then things will go downhill from there

but that’s a discussion for another day

you look at your boyfriend and you can tell how sincere he’s being with his apology, so you lift your arms up

and he carries you back to bed 

“..we still have to talk about it in the morning you know” you mumble

“mhmm” he hums before pulling you closer to him

he doesn’t care about that all too much because he knows you two will be alright in the morning

BOKUTO

arguments with Bokuto were uncommon, but when they did occur it was a big deal

and tonight was no exception

the two of you weren’t listening to one another and it felt like you both were talking to a brick wall- it was terribly annoying to deal with and you knew it was going nowhere

"C'mon Kou, let's head to bed- we can talk more in the morning" you sigh, and without a word, the two of you start preparing for bed

while you're brushing your teeth, you start thinking about how you really don't feel as if it's right to be in bed with your boyfriend

the argument was kind of your fault, wasn't it? you started to feel extremely guilty for your actions- and thus you made the decision to sleep on the couch

perhaps sleeping separately would help the both of you clear your minds more

when you finish up your nightly routine, you peek your head into the bedroom, you saw Bokuto fast asleep

you made your way to the closet to grab a spare blanket and head towards the couch

you were extremely exhausted so it didn’t take long for you to fall asleep too

but Bokuto woke up probably an hour after he had fallen asleep, and of course he noticed that you weren’t next to him

his first thought was that you went to get water, so he decided to stroll into the kitchen to grab some for himself

but when he entered the living room and saw you sleeping on the couch, he was extremely confused, like have you been sleeping there the entire time?

he walks up to the couch and frowns, feeling especially guilty that you had chosen to slept on the couch

brushes some of your hair out of your face and cups half of your face

he sees you smile a bit in your sleep upon feeling his touch and there’s a wave of relief in him

like heck he was going to let you sleep alone now

when you wake up hours later, you notice that you’re no longer sleeping on the couch- but instead on Bokuto who is the one on the couch

your head is rested on his chest, and while the movement of his chest rising and falling brings great comfort- you’re honestly confused as to how this happened

apparently Bokuto tried to squeeze into laying down on the couch with you, and while the both of you technically did fit, it wasn’t the most ideal way to sleep

so he just kind scooted you on top of him, and you slept peacefully on him, hugging him like a giant teddy bear in the process


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4 years ago

this was me when i found this. holy shit. now im hooked 😩

This Was Me When I Found This. Holy Shit. Now Im Hooked 😩
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winter’s breath ⭒

{ kinktober day 3 - betrayal }

sugawara koushi x f! reader

⭒word count; 1.1k

⭒warnings/tags; NON-CON, incest, outdoors, virginity, freeform, ambiguous end

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a/n: this is more freeform-y and was heavily inspired by the winters here in canada; all characters are 18+.

love you all!!!

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Keep reading

4 years ago

idk i randomly woke up thinking of this buuut do you think you can write one where the s/o is looking really good and they're about to head out for like a business meeting or hanging out with their friends. like how would the hq boys react? you can use anyone you want or are comfy with. i also hope you have a good day and make sure to drink water and get at least a little bit of sun or fresh air :)

HAIKYUU BOYS REACTIONS WHEN YOU DRESS UP TO GO OUT

Idk I Randomly Woke Up Thinking Of This Buuut Do You Think You Can Write One Where The S/o Is Looking

characters — timeskip!miya atsumu, kuroo tetsurō, miya osamu, suna rintarō, iwaizumi hajime

a/n — warning ⚠️ okay some got a lil suggestive but not too much, im sorry i’m the worst lmao. have an amazing day my love, i hope you enjoy <3 i’m kinda happy w these!

Idk I Randomly Woke Up Thinking Of This Buuut Do You Think You Can Write One Where The S/o Is Looking

☾ ATSUMU his head shot up from where he lay on the couch once he seen you come into his view from the bedroom, eyes dragging up and down your figure as he groaned when he stood up to walk towards you, his hands immediately grabbing you as he pulled you into his chest “what’s ma baby all dressed up for hmm?” “going out ‘tsumu” he hummed as his head dipped to place gentle kisses up the expanse of your shoulder before travelling up your neck, stopping to suck a visible purple mark just below your ear before he pulled away to admire it “ya sure ya don’t wanna stay home with me?” his facade drops so quick when you playfully shove him away and tell him “no” with a giggle, slaps your ass on your way out the door though.

☾ KUROO he whistled lowly as his eyes met yours as you adjusted your clothes in the bedroom mirror, a smirk already stretching his features as he walked towards you “now, now kitten— all this for me?” you rolled your eyes at his teasing as his arms wrapped around you from behind, admiring your features in the mirror before his hand traced up your body, fingers tightening around your chin, turning your head towards him in favour of placing a gentle peck on your lips before he pulled away to admire you a little longer, silence finally broken as he drawled out his words almost seductively “are you made of Fluorine, Iodine, and Neon? because kitten, you are F-I-Ne” you both end up laughing so hard because he’s such a dork, he tells you to have a good time though, we love him.

☾ OSAMU he was in the kitchen cleaning up when you came into show him your outfit before you left, he smiles so big and immediately opens his arms to wrap them around you, giving your forehead a few kisses before he rests his lips against the skin “how do i look samu?” “ya look amazin’ angel, ya always do.” pulls away to fix any of your clothes he might’ve messed up with how tight he hugged you “ya want anything done for ya comin’ back? are ya gonna eat while yer out or a can make ya somethin’?” you just nod before he walks you to the door, giving you once last longing glance as he checks you out shamelessly “enjoy yerself alright? not too much though, al be waitin’ for ya comin’ home for that.”

☾ SUNA he was scrolling through his phone on the couch when you walked into the room, immediately locking his phone and flinging it down beside him when you walked in as he looks at you with his lips slightly upturned “do i look okay, rin?” he straightens up a little as he pats his lap, arms immediately wrapping around you as he pulls you on top of him, his hands running up the expanse of your thighs as they squeeze at the skin— his gaze never leaving yours, his words almost a raspy groan “fuck, so pretty.” one of his hands moving higher to rest on your neck as his lips slide against yours sweetly, a contrast to the hungry look in his eyes as he grins when he pulls away “send me some photos when you’re out?”

☾ IWAIZUMI you swear you heard him growl when your gaze met his, his muscled arm stretched along the back of the couch as you watch the heat creep up his neck and across his cheeks when you catch his gaze lingering on your figure. his voice comes out deep, one your used to but only in more intimate moments with him as he rises from his place to move closer to you “shit doll, look so fucking good for me.” one of his hands moving around the expanse of your hips as he grabbed a handful of your ass in his palm, lips capturing yours slowly even though his other hand tightened on your waist with more urgency, he pulls away shortly after, gazing down at you with the same blush he’d always had before he’s reaching for his keys “let me drop you off? need to make sure my princess is safe right?”

Idk I Randomly Woke Up Thinking Of This Buuut Do You Think You Can Write One Where The S/o Is Looking

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4 years ago

i just realized that nothing is real so therefore i will not try in life anymore

4 years ago

I LOVE THIS SO MUCH!!!😭😭❤️

Yaku Morisuke(Haikyuu)- Triple Feature

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Kinktober 2020 — sex tape

A/N: something about yaku just makes me want to call him daddy in everything I write for him you know…

Description: A triple feature of some very questionable home videos…

Warning: filming, vaginal penetration, unprotected sex, creampie, spanking, spitting, cumplay, mirror sex, mentions of maturbation, you called him daddy (1) time

Word count: 4707

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vid001.mp4

“God damn it, this is harder than I thought it would be…”

The crisp ring of your chuckle followed the mumbling groan of your boyfriend as he fixed the placement of his phone on the nightstand. Yaku’s face took up the entirety of the frame, with your grinning features peeking out from behind of his chestnut locks. The camera could not focus on his round eyes right at the very front but instead showed you clearly, the way you bit your lips as your eyes looked away from the camera all recorded down as an evidence that you were not as confident as you had thought you would be.

There were sounds of things shifting and clicking at the background, until he finally took a step back. His full face could finally get into the frame now that he wasn’t upfront, his eyes looking at the screen as his hands held mid-air, hoping that the device wouldn’t fall down.

“Ok…” he murmured as he turned around, still staring at the phone from the corner of his eyes before climbing onto the bed where you were already laying there to make sure it wouldn’t fall down the moment he let go, “I think this should work.”

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4 years ago

[ 11:20 PM ] — sakusa kiyoomi.

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sakusa knew he loved you when he found that he was happier being around you than when he was alone. when he started packing an extra handkerchief for you every time you two went out. when, after 2 years of using the same default wallpaper, he had finally changed it to a picture of you. just you, smiling. 

he didn’t know how or why you stuck with him for so long but what he did know was that he wanted you there with him for as long as possible. the thought of having someone in his space; touching his things; touching him and all the vulnerabilities tucked inside him was inconceivable before he met you. but now, after knowing you and falling in love with you, having you in his space was all he could ever want.

“ah, omi. you’re home!” you greeted him happily as he walked into your shared apartment. there was a bounce in your step as you hopped over to take his bag from him.

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1 month ago
This Was Based Off An Ask I Received From Kitten, Thank You For Always Giving Me The Best Ideas💕
This Was Based Off An Ask I Received From Kitten, Thank You For Always Giving Me The Best Ideas💕

This was based off an ask I received from Kitten, thank you for always giving me the best ideas💕

But imagine you get caught up in a sudden trash storm with Enjin, it's not enough debris to damage the car but it's dangerous enough you can't drive or walk. The two of you are just barely outside the city, stuck in a very confined van with tension that's been mounting since the two of you met. Before Enjin leans over and presses his lips to yours, again and again before he's pulling from the passenger seat to the bench seat in the back. Tongue sliding over yours with a groan as he pins you to the old thread bare upholstery with the hopes of fogging up the windows.

Pairings: Engine / Enjin x f!reader.

Warnings: 18+, friends to lovers, car sex, minimal prep, unprotected sex, creampie, spanking, praise, dirty talk.

Word Count: 4.1k.

This Was Based Off An Ask I Received From Kitten, Thank You For Always Giving Me The Best Ideas💕

“Maybe you should take a break,” You glance over the centre console to see Enjin’s eyes fluttering at the wheel, sat forward in his chair as he fights sleep.

The heavy rock playing through the worn car radio does nothing to ease his drowsiness, nor do the potholes almost as large as craters that scatter along the contaminated zone.

Reaching over you run your fingers through the buzzed hairs of his undercut, trying to coax his attention back to the path in front of you. Enjin jolts slightly on contact before heaving a soft sigh, his knuckles turn white from how hard he grips the steering wheel as he narrowly misses a large trash pile.

“M’fine,” Enjin mumbles, reluctantly pulling himself away from your touch, terrified that the soothing sensation will have him falling asleep at the wheel.

“I know you’re tired,” You push, “Just for a bit, yeah? A power nap.”

You wanted to get home just as badly as him, the unspoken feelings between you two made it difficult to breathe and this mission had been exhausting. Not to mention how dangerous it was to settle in a contaminated zone for too long, especially when it was just the pair of you. Humans could be just as dangerous as the monsters that reside in the area.

“We’re like sitting ducks out here,” Enjin continued, and he would know. For some reason the Giver enjoyed taking strolls in the contaminated zone, even though the air was unbreatheable, “It’s not much further, it’ll be fine.”

A washer dryer falls to the left of you, colliding into the ground with an almighty smash. Pieces of debris fly everywhere as you jolt in the van, holding your hand to your heart at the sudden movement as you curse under your breath.

“You good, sweetheart?” Enjin turns to you with a grin, and it does nothing but make your insides feel like jelly.

You should be used to it by now, the so called junk thrown discarded by the sky people like it’s nothing. Most of it salvageable, cookers with broken buttons that just needed a quick replacement, hairdryers with blown fuses.

Enjin had even gifted you a diamond ring he’d found one evening on one of his regular strolls. The silver band was pristine, and looked as though it had never been worn. A pretty glistening diamond set perfectly inside it, and not a single scratch on it despite the impact from the large drop. You wondered why anyone would ever throw something so perfect away, and then you saw it— A simple black speck that sat in the middle of the carbon. The smallest, most pathetic reason that it had been thrown into the pit in the first place. Because of course, why would anyone up in Heaven want anything less than perfect— But it was perfect to you. The pretty gem sat perfectly on your ring finger, despite the fact that Enjin hadn’t asked you to marry him. And the speck that was supposedly imperfect, reminded you of the friend who had gifted it to you.

You were just friends, after all. A subject of consistent teasing between the other Janitors.

“If you like someone, you should tell them.” Griss would look back from his position in the drivers seat to wink at you, just as Enjin is shouting at him to “Keep your eyes on the road, Bozo!”

“Yeah, it’s not good to keep those feelings bottled up inside.” Tamzy spoke coolly from the backseat.

“Would sure suck if the person you liked didn’t like you back, though.” Riyo chimed.

Exactly, Riyo. You thought to yourself, It would fucking suck.

And aside from a few flirty words from Griss, and one night where he’d seen red when a travelling merchant offered to buy you a drink in the local pub. Immediately appearing at your side to ward him off, the poor man leaving with a black eye and a bruised ego. “You don’t need to solve everything with violence.” Riyo mocked Enjin, who was pink in the cheeks. For the most part it almost felt like an unspoken rule that you were Enjin’s.

And it didn’t matter anyway, because you were content with this— whatever this was. And it wasn’t worth ruining the relationship you had with feelings, you were satisfied. And you could cope with satisfied if it meant keeping Enjin as a friend, certain not to ruin your relationship with the complication of romantic feelings.

Another loud crash had you snapping back to focus, a hail of trash began to pour down on the barren wasteland, things that by themselves would never have proved deadly. But with the acceleration of gravity, items were deadly as they left dents in the strongest of boulders.

“Fucks sake. We’ve gotta take cover,” Enjin’s tattooed hand shifted on the gearstick as he began to reverse the truck, narrowly missing a falling bathtub as it crashed against the ground.

“Shit,” You squealed, holding onto the dash as Enjin expertly manouvered through the trash storm.

“Hold on.” He veered left to avoid another shower of trash as it made the vehicle fall down a sand dune, skidding to the side as you began to panic. Watching more trash tumble down around you like rain.

“Enjin, look out—” You saw the falling car before he did, an old battered Sedan. How did they even manage to get that down here?

“I fuckin’ know, woman. I know—” He spat, yellow eyes catching it just after you as he swerved roughly. Glad you had your seatbelt on as your side banged into the car door, knocking your head against the glass as he took another harsh turn.

Finding refuge beneath an abandoned Eolian cave as the tires screeched to a stop, the roof of the truck dented but nothing Riyo wouldn’t be able to fix with a hammer when you both made it back to the compound.

“Baby, you okay?” Enjin unbuckled his belt to lean over the center console, cupping your face in both palms as he turns you to face him. Tilting your head to check for any injuries as you reached up to place a warm, sweaty palm around his wrist. Leaning into his touch as you finally allowed your heart to lull, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” You shook your head, “Wasn’t your fault.”

“We shoulda never been out here this late, it is all my fault.” He shook his head as you both heard the loud crash of trash and debris continue to fall along the wasteland.

“It’s not your fault, Enjin.” You shook your head, squeezing his wrist softly to try and focus his attention back on you, “We’re okay.”

“I’d have never forgiven myself if you got hurt,” He continued, shaking his head. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d seen him this worried, “I never wanna lose you.”

There’s a subtle change in his movement, and if you hadn’t have been so close to him you would’ve missed it. It was the way his eyes flit down to your lips for the faintest of seconds before meeting your gaze again. The movement has your heart rattling against its cages, dragging a metal cup along the bars to be unleashed from its prison as you took a chance. Tilting your head slightly in Enjin’s palms to brush your lips against his in a chaste kiss. They felt chapped against your softer ones, eager to feel them again as you chanced another peck, this time lingering as you stepped over that blurry line of ‘just friends’.

“We shouldn’t.” Enjin grumbles, obviously fighting the voices in his head as he tries to ignore the blood flowing through his veins. The only voice of reason, as always.

You’re in no mood to talk, hungry for another taste of him as you move your hands to his face, fingertips sliding behind the pink tips of his ears as warm palms graze his stubble. The gentle tips of your fingers stroke the base of his neck as Enjin feels all of his resolve start to crumble the moment you bring him in again.

“Enjin,” You whine against his lips as his warm breath fans your face. He smells like cigarettes and cheap cologne, the scent suffocating and intoxicating at the same time as your half-lidded eyes stare back at him.

“Don’t,” Enjin groaned against your mouth, and yet he made no attempt to pull back, “If you do that I won’t be able to stop myself.”

“Who said I’ll want you to stop?” You replied simply, the taste of your chapstick now smeared against his lips as his tongue poked out to taste it. His nostrils flaring as he felt his entire body react to the implication of your words.

“Fuck it,” He grunts, tugging at your thigh as he pulls you over the center console. His grip firm on you as he positions you on his lap, perched on muscular thighs as you settle just before the semi-hard bulge beneath his pants. Slender fingers stroke along your back as he rests his forehead to yours, silently waiting for you to make your move. To push him away and tell him that you’re just friends; that you shouldn’t do this. But you don’t.

It’s carnal, the way you both paw at each other. Desperate to remove every barrier that stands between you both. Enjin’s long arms knock the top of the van as he tugs his shirt up and over his head, impatiently waiting for him to pull it high enough so you can reattach your lips to his. He’s like a drug you’ve become addicted to, desperate for another dose as your mouths clash together in a duel of tongues and teeth.

His fingers tug at the hem of your shirt roughly to remove it, swallowing the pathetic whine you make against his lips as you pull away for him to discard it. Leaning forward with more urgency as you kiss him again, tongue swiping against his top incisors as he palms your breasts through the simple black bra. The nights he’d spent awake fucking his fist to the thought of you would never compare to this, not in any lifetime.

Enjin pulls away from your bruised lips as you follow him forward, trying to reconnect them as he nudges your nose with his gently. Half-lidded eyes watch with amusement as he begins to pepper kisses along your jawline, following the curve down to the column of your throat as he begins to bite and suck at your pulse point. Another pitiful whine vibrates in your throat as you wrap your arms around his neck, caging his head between your forearms as you thread your fingers through his messy hair. Your clothed breasts practically in his face now as he ventures lower, pressing a kiss against your sternum as he nuzzles at your soft mounds gently, reaching behind you to unclasp your bra.

Gravity has your tits bouncing into position as he gently pulls the cups away, revealing your chest to his hungry gaze. It’s his turn to sound desperate now as he groans, low and guttural in his chest as he commits the sight to memory. Certain that if all else fails he’ll have this memory carved into his consciousness for the rest of his existence.

“God, you’re perfect.” He rasps, reaching out tentively to cup your warm tits as he thumbs your nipples, watching them pebble in the cool evening air as you throw your head back in pleasure, “What the fuck are you doin’ with a lowly janitor like me?”

You don’t get a second to answer before Enjin is leaning forward to take one of your nipples into his warm, wet mouth. His tongue swirls around your areola as he pinches and toys with the other, growling against your skin as your nails drag against his scalp in response.

“Fuck, Enjin.” You moan, rolling your hips as you feel the tent in his pants beneath you. His hard cock desperate to be released as your cunt throbs at the thought, eager to feel him after all this time.

“Don’t say my name like that, baby.” He groans, resting his cheek against your breast as he blows cool air against your spit-soaked nipple, “You’ll have me creaming my pants.”

“Enjin,” You ignore his plea as you roll your hips against him again, giving your clit more friction as you focus on the sensation.

“Fuck, you brat.” He grunts, gripping your hips in his palms roughly to stop you repeating the motion again. Positive that if you were to roll your heat against him one more time he would come undone.

“Want you so bad, Enjin. Please.” You choke, reaching between your bodies to paw at his belt. Your fingers toy with the worn leather as he takes pity on you enough to help, slender fingers brush yours away as he unbuckles it, tugging them down with his underwear just enough to free his aching cock.

It’s better than you expected, and your belly swirls with anticipation at the sight of him. What he lacks in girth he makes up for in length, the leaky cock head settles against his abdomen. Pre matts the messy blond hairs that follow a trail up to his bellybutton as the tip burns a fiery red. Swollen, angry and desperate for release as you wrap a palm around him. Making his hips buck wildly as you give a tentative stroke, catching the pre beading at the tip against your palm as you roll your wrist. Holding him straight as you look down between your bodies, watching where his length ends in comparison with your torso as you wonder if he’ll be so deep he’ll cum inside your guts.

Enjin becomes more restless now, impatient, as he bunches your skirt up around your hips. Groaning at the very evident wet patch that gleams against your panties as he presses a calloused finger against it, your eyes roll back into your skull as you feel him graze your clit.

“Oh, baby.” He hisses when your hand tightens around his girth, almost forgetting everything as you focus on the sensation of his fingers toying with you through the thin fabric, “Watch the nails.”

“S-ah, sorry,” You pant, loosening your grip as you follow the forking veins along him with the tips of your fingers.

“Gonna eat this sweet little pussy later, I promise.” He grunts, tugging your panties to the side as he watches your slick cling to the fabric, breaking off into silvery lines as he runs two fingers through your messy folds.

“Fuck, oh my god— Enjin,” Your hips rut pitifully at his touch. The sensation foreign but so satisfying as you seek it out again, whining as he circles the calloused pad of his index finger around your tight hole. Feeling the way it flutters around nothing as it tries to coax him in like a vindictive siren singing a final lullaby to a sailor.

Enjin breaches the gap and the sound that leaves your throat is downright debauched, causing his cock to jolt as he hooked his finger against your soft inner walls. It’s all too much, and simply not enough as you find yourself rolling your hips into his touch. Goading him to press his digit deeper as he feels just how wet and tight you are, certain that he’d never be able to replicate the feeling himself no matter how many Jinki he activated.

“You’re so pretty like this,” He murmurs, his thumb swipes your clit as he watches you try to ride his single finger.

“Enjin, don’t tease me,” You sigh breathlessly, wrapping your palm around his cock as it leaks fresh pre down the shaft. Drooling onto your fingers as you hold him upright, “I need you now.”

“I need to stretch you out, sweetheart.” He grunts, “I don’t wanna hurt you—”

“No, please Enjin,” You hover yourself over his length as you feel his leaky cock head graze your slit, “I want it to hurt.”

“Fuck,” His cock jumps at the lewd thought, wetting his lips with his tongue as his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat.

“I’ve got a rubber,” He continues, wondering whether the one sat neatly inside his wallet is even in date. He neglects you to turn towards the back of the van to seek out his coat, “But I don’t know if it’s in date—”

“Don’t need it,” You tighten your fist around his cock, causing his head to fall back against the headrest, eyes roll back as you brush the tip of his cock through your sloppy folds, “Just pull out, okay?”

And Enjin thinks that’s easier said than done when he finally feels the warmth of your wet cunt engulf him. You’ve barely taken his engorged tip and the heat is already scorching, searing into him as he watches your face contort in pleasure. Trying his hardest not to use his grip on your hips to impale you on his cock in one fell swoop.

You’re slowly sinking down onto him now and you can feel every delicious inch as you take more and more of him inside. Your unprepped walls throb and ache as they adjust to the stretch, feeling every ridge contour to him as you give a few shallow thrusts.

You already feel impossibly full with half, your chest so tight as though you can feel him in your throat. His calloused thumb presses soft figure of eights to your puffy clit to distract you, and honestly to distract him too as it takes every ounce of willpower not to force you down on his throbbing cock.

“Wanna feel every inch of you.” You whine, bending your head to look between your bodies as you take more of him. Feeling the messy hairs at the base of his cock tickle your clit as you know you’re almost fully seated, positioning your hands on broad shoulders for some semblance of reality as Enjin feels your walls shudder around him.

“Yeah? Want me to fuck you into the shape of my cock, sweetheart?” His words have your clit throbbing and your cunt convulsing as he grins. Neglecting your clit to hold onto the swell of your ass as he starts a savage pace, pulling you down onto his cock each time he ruts his hips up. Heavy balls slap against your ass with each movement, and you’re screaming obscenities.

Enjin’s never been more thankful that there’s no one around as he does nothing to quell your pretty sounds, instead he actively encourages them as he goads you on. Landing a harsh smack to your ass as he feels you clench around him.

“That’s it, pretty girl,” He coos, “You get yours—”

You’re practically using his body for your own pleasure as you roll your hips, his pubes tickle your clit with every forward motion as you cry out for him. Your hand splayed against the fogged window as the other buries sharp nails into his bare shoulder. Leaving red crescent-shaped moons in their wake as you grind against him, feeling the pleasure continuing to build in your abdomen.

There’s something sordid about watching you ride him, the subtle bounce of your tits as you roll your hips. Your thighs trembling as you struggle to maintain a steady pace, exerting all of your energy to try and pleasure yourself. A fact that really gets him off. Enjin takes pity on you, not leaving you to do all the work as he uses his grip to him you fuck yourself on his cock.

“God, look at you—“ Enjin sneers, though there’s no malice in it, “So fuckin’ perfect.”

He knows neither of you will last long, the pent up emotion shared between the two of you was unparalleled. So heightened that it was only a matter of time that it would reach boiling point and flood over. The fleeting glances and gentle touches not enough to quench the desire inside you both, as it left you craving more.

But he’s not going to concede to you so easily, slipping a black painted nail between your bodies as he thumbs your clit, pressing the palm of his hand against your pelvis so he can feel himself inside you. Watching the way your lashes flutter as you throw your head back in pleasure, your hand sliding against the fogged glass as your climax surges through you. Enjin keeps his thumb consistent against your clit we you lean back, throbbing around his cock as you ride out your bliss. There’s nothing but white hot pleasure blanketing your vision and making your brain fuzzy as you try to remember to breathe.

“God, you look so pretty when you cum.” He almost sighs, giving your clit a final sloppy circle before pulling away to hold your hips. Fingertips dip into your plush skin as he cherishes the way you pulse around him, giving himself a moment as he almost loses it too early. Terrified of finishing too soon and never having the chance to do this again—

His strengthens his grip on your hips, tilting your body back as he fucks you with renewed vigour. Selfishly seeking out his own climax as your back is pressed against the wheel, the horn blares in the background as you accidentally nudge it but neither of you seem to care. Your breasts bounce from the ferocity of his movements, his skin sticking to the worn leather seat every time his hips cant back but he still doesn’t stop.

“I’m gonna pull out, sweetheart.” He groans, lifting your body to reluctantly slip his cock from your warmth. Enjin knows if he doesn’t do it now, he never will. Perfectly content with fisting himself all over your skin.

“No, please don’t pull out, Enjin,” You clench around him, trying to keep him lodged inside you as your thighs tighten on either side of him, “Wanna feel you.”

“We can’t— I shouldn’t,” He presses, but there’s no real argument there. Not when your warm cunt coaxed him back in so eagerly, “I’m gonna cum, baby.”

“Just cum inside me.” You reply as though it’s the most simple answer in the world.

“Ah, shit.” He grunts, your saccharine tone the final straw as his hips spasm. Unable to control the pleasure burning in his pelvis as his balls seize. His grip on your hips almost painful, certain to leave bruises in their wake as he fucks into you with renewed vigour. Both of you focused on each other as Enjin gives a few more frantic pumps inside your warm, wet cunt before he meets his own end.

“Fuck— gonna cum, shit.” He grunts as he pumps rope after rope of spunk inside your trembling walls, painting them white. His hips jerkily fuck it into you with a few more sloppy thrusts as you feel the warmth of it engulf you, your chest heaves as you try to come down from your high.

You both settle in silence, the only sound is the falling debris just outside the cave as the storm continues to rage. And your steady breath breathing together in tandem as Enjin’s fingers stroke slow absentminded patterns against your exposed skin.

You make the most adorable whine as Enjin pulls you up off his softening cock, wincing at the wet feeling of his release now drooling onto his inner thighs and the floor of the van as he pulls your chest against his. Your arms weave around his shoulders as you bury your face in his neck, breathing in the scent of him as you bask in the afterglow.

“I didn’t think you wanted me like that,” You mumble against his collarbone, voice barely a whisper as you toy with one of his earrings.

“What?” Enjin tilts his head back slightly, turning to the side to try and meet your gaze as you shyly hide away, warm palms stroking your back, “How could I not want you like that?”

“I guess it’s just been so long,” You continue, “I just started to think maybe you just thought I was a friend.”

“I never really thought I had to say it,” Enjin shrugged, “You’ve always just kinda been mine in my head. Even if you weren’t officially mine.”

“So you’ve never wanted anyone else?” You were terrified of his answer, worried about all the women out there that were definitely prettier than you, smarter, funnier.

“Sweetheart, there would only ever be one girl I’d wanna give a diamond ring to.” He grins, pressing a wet sloppy kiss to your cheek.

2 years ago

i don’t have the healthiest coping methods but i haven’t killed myself yet so where’s my fucking medal

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xkoutarou - he hurt me but it felt like true love
he hurt me but it felt like true love

faye. twenty-two.

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