#[ he made light of it he would joke about it he did not seem to care he was going to die

[notsoverymerry]

Boyfriend (j.yh x reader)

<jeong yunho x fem!reader>

summary: You can't believe you're dating Yunho. Others can't either.

genre/warnings: smut, unprotected sex (please use protection!), fluff, use of pet-names a/n: let me know literally anything about this :) word count ~3.6k

You were dating Jeong Yunho; you really were. 

You went on dates, held hands, kissed, and said the cheesiest, most sweetest, tooth-rotting things to each other. All the time. And yet, none of the boys had caught up. By some mysterious miracle or rather an ominous curse, guys and the staff have considered you two to be just really good friends. You could've screamed love proclamations at each other from mountaintops, and nobody would take that seriously. His habit of calling you his little bro, or some variation of that, as a pet name did not help in the slightest.

At first, it was funny. Just at the beginning of your relationship, when you intended to keep your fondness away from prying eyes and wanted to enjoy exploring each other in this new, intimate side of things, having people consider you pals was great. You can recall Seonghwa making a few remarks about how cute you would look together, but it was dismissed rather quickly. The first time it happened, you totally saw Yunho's ears go red, him stammering out something about friendships and trust and members making you uncomfortable. 

At the end of your third date, you were sure you wanted this man next to you for life. He took you to the aquarium. It was a cliché, but it's something you have always dreamed of. You love animals, love to learn new things, and you think you love Jeong Yunho. He looked dashing in just a pair of blue jeans and a white sweater; your heart definitely skipped a beat when he smiled, hands reaching to greet you in a short embrace. It skipped a beat again when you heard him laugh lightly at some joke you made. And again, when his hand brushed against yours as you walked to your destination. Stepping into a room with tiny fish specimens showcased in various tanks, blue lights now illuminated his frame and those round sparkling eyes. Your heart doesn't seem to work correctly. 

Few hours went flying. You took pictures. Half of them when he wasn't paying attention. You told him he looks like the prettiest starfish they have and didn't miss his cheeks darkening with blush even in the dim lights. Not too long had passed before you started to point out funky ones to each other, exclaiming, 'You!' and laughing. After a particularly accurate comparison of you to a dwarf puffer ('Dwarf puffers are aggressive, sensitive, and active' the sign read), he reached and intertwined your fingers, not a single hint of trying to hurt you with that juxtaposition, his eyes full of adoration, a huge smile on his face. You could have just kissed him.

He insisted on ice cream later in the evening. You were just heading out the shop when you bumped into Mingi. Faces red but happy, Yunho's arm hugging you to his side, a small bag of sweet treats in his hand. It took a second for Song Mingi to take the sight in. And another second for him to smile and greet you, to ask how's it going and where you're going to go.

''Oh, my girlfriend and I are just going to relax somewhere in the park nearby.''

You couldn't help the giggle that escaped your lips. Girlfriend. You can definitely get used to being called his girlfriend. And then it happened. Cue Mingi's cluelessness, or the fact that he's just tired from their hectic schedules. 

''Man, it's great that you can be so close with each other and aren't afraid someone will mistake you for a couple. If you could act a bit better, maybe you'd even get a discount sometime!'' With that, he was gone. 

There was a little tradition your small company liked to keep. Board games. 

Every once in a while, when everyone wasn't busy, you'd spend an evening playing, talking, lightly drinking, and overall just relaxing. Adult life could take a really boring turn, the one that only had 'road work ahead, and so should you' sign. Bills, taxes, colleagues being stressed and mean, and yada-yada. Idol life was probably even worse. 

There was some catching up due, and this Saturday night seemed just the perfect opportunity. The lot of you chose a game, lo-fi music was put on for background, and the living room area was cleaned so up to ten people could comfortably sit in a circle. Drinks were cold and ready to be handed out. 

You took a seat in between your beloved Yuyu and Yeosang, a dear friend of yours who got you in the group. You'd expect him to know your heart of all people. Although when you told him about your new boyfriend, all he did was laugh and say that was a good one. 

Bewilderment washed over you in a tidal wave. It showed up on your face, swimming behind your eyes and overflowing in a strangled sound from your lips. And you, Yeosang? With your confused and hurt whimper, the topic was brought to everyone's attention. 

''Did you guys know y/n likes Yunho?'' Maybe it was the alcohol, but you heard more laughter. 

''Oh? But y/n likes all of us, don't you?''

''Well, yes, but—'' you were not going to finish that sentence. He heard what he wanted.

''See?'' Wooyoung looked so smug; if your brain wasn't so busy being confused, you'd be infuriated. Right now you looked like there was a loading circle turning in your head. Hopefully you won't bluescreen. 

''Are you guys pulling my leg?''

''Are you? Seriously, you and Yunho.'' There came a playful nudge to your side. 

You wanted to protest, to ask your boyfriend to back you up, but turning to him, you saw his eyes creased by a smile. He shook his head slightly, as if trying to say that it's fine and they will catch up to it eventually. He knew it was going to take them a while. And with his hand lightly caressing your back, your anger dissipated, replaced by a warm feeling inside your chest. Was it always so hot in here?

''Just relax, little pal. I got you.''

A while has passed before you decided to be openly affectionate, at least around those closest to you. 

It was a day off for the both of you. You planned on going out, but upon seeing your boyfriend's tired eyes, you opted to offer a quiet night in. Weather seemed to agree with that, given that it started raining against the broadcast's best predictions. 

You were met with Hongjoong, who opened the door and let you in. When you entered their living room, you saw Yunho, still in sweatpants and a big shirt, holding a steaming mug. 

''Hey.'' He said, ''Isn't it my favorite little dude!''

''Hello, honey.''

The warmth in your voices could melt the arctic icebergs. You took a few moments just to look at each other, gentle smiles tugging at the corners of your mouths. 

''Oh, hey, bro! I'm also in the room, where's my sweet greeting?''

It was San, a pout already present on his sleepy face. 

''You'd get it when you have a girlfriend.''

The day was spent in the comfort of their couch, with soft cushions and comforters draped around. None of you cared for the cancelled plans, not really, when all you ever wanted was to be in each other's presence. That was enough. Several movies were watched, hot tea keeping the cozy atmosphere company. You were cuddled with Yunho, feeling warm and giddy. That's when Seonghwa made another comment about how cute the two of you were. 

''But I don't want to make you uncomfortable, y/n. Don't take this close to heart. We know there's nothing romantic going on.''

It was as though they were doing it on purpose.

''It's okay, Seonghwa; we are together. Like, I love him and all that.''

Your voice was steady, your face was serious, and yet…

''Of course you are,'' San almost scoffed. ''But that behavior is exactly why you can't get a date these days. People see Yunho and don't dare approach you.''

A light chuckle could be heard from the room; Yunho also couldn't contain his. The more blunt you were at stating your relationship status, the more oblivious band members became. 

''Little broski is saying she doesn't need a date. She has me. Right, darling?''

Yunho was being honest. You nod at him, darting your eyes back at your friends in hopes of seeing the realization there. Yet, his playful tone and charming smile did nothing to convince the others. It's not like you've been actively trying to make them believe you were an item. Though now it seemed to irritate you a bit. Was it really that hard to imagine you and Jeong Yunho together? Were you not good enough in their eyes? Or was it his habit of calling you bro? You never knew. 

''Why is it so hard for you to believe we're dating, though?''

You voiced your thoughts, needing to know the answer now.

''Y/n, love… You'd date a reputable scam artist before Yunho; we know that much. You'd probably even date Hongjoong first if-''

''I can hear that!''

That was the captain's answer from the kitchen.

''A reputable scam artist?''

That was your confused reply. What does that even mean?

''And what is so wrong with dating me? I'm handsome, I'm charming, and so, so funny! A real treat. I could also be a scam artist if I really wanted to.''

A strangled sound tore from your chest.

''See? That's a laugh.''

There was another. He was not at all interested in proving them wrong.

You couldn't believe your luck when you showed up at the dorms a week later and no one was there. 

Yunho had called you, asking you to come in, some mischevous spark laced in his tone. It turns out, the boys had work, and those who didn't decided on spending the day outside. There was undoubtedly a need for shopping for essential items, as well as just a bit of fresh air and relaxation for those workaholics. Well deserved. Yunho needed it too. So when he asked if you could just cuddle him a bit and maybe cook something easy later, you couldn't find it in yourself to deny this request.

His bed? Soft. His body? Warm. Hands? Big and strong and held you against him perfectly. You were happy. You basked in the feeling of his chest pressed against your back, like puzzle pieces, you thought. You traced the veins on his arms, switching to play with his fingers from time to time. This feels nice. This feels so right. How could his members not see this? You were practically made for each other. You decided to bring it up.

''Why do you think our friends don't take us seriously?''

He let out an amused hum, his breath fanning over your neck. 

''I dunno. Maybe they all want you, just can't take the fact I already hogged you for myself.''

He hugged you tighter. In all honesty, that was distracting. How could you think about other guys, about anything else, really, when your big and strong boyfriend held you so tenderly against himself? The thought of him wanting you and caring for you as much as you did for him should melt your heart. Instead, with the way his fingers played with your shirt, caressing your skin where it had rode up, it sent hot waves someplace else. Were you cruel enough to ruin this perfect cuddle session with your dirty thoughts? 

''You're here, love?'' His hand went up to cradle your face. 

Turning to him, you couldn't avoid looking at his lips. So pink and soft. You know just how nice they feel against yours. Your eyes had darkened already, the feelings you had for this man had your head all dizzy. Without much thinking, you moved forward, connecting your lips in a sweet kiss. You felt his breath hitch. A tiny sound tried to escape his throat, but your mouth didn't let it. His hands moved to your waist again, holding you even closer.

You put your hands in his hair. You just couldn't resist massaging his scalp and tugging gently, soft locks slipping through your fingers. And god were you rewarded with another sound from him, right into your lips, chest reverberating against yours. He stopped kissing you; for a moment he just needed to look at your face. Rose hue on your cheeks and blown eyes — no doubt he looked the same. 

''I see,'' he chucled. Hands roaming your body, skimming your sides. ''You're so amazing. I can't get enough of you, my little bro.''

There it was again. The way he said it was ethereal. His voice so soft and perfectly low, his eyes dark and full of adoration. But it was the bro part that got your mind out of the gutter. Only for a moment, though.

''I want to make love to you so badly,'' you started. He sucked in a breath. His eyes fixated on your face, jumping over to your lips for a second. ''But please, stop with the bro thing. You can put that mouth to better use.''

''I'll be good,'' is his promise. 

With that, he leaned in to kiss you again. This time pressing into you harder, needier. You couldn't control yourself any longer, too. With a soft moan, he moved even closer, almost getting on top of you, his weight pressing you into the mattress. And it feels, oh, so good. You bite on his lower lip carefully, anything to hear his beautiful sounds again. You let him take the lead, tongue gliding over yours. He moans at the taste. 

Tongue keeps rooling over yours; he lets his hands slide under your shirt. He kneads your breasts, then moves his hands over to grab at your hips and thighs, and back under your shirt again. You feel on fire. You want him to touch you everywhere at once; you want to touch him even more. You're the first to give in, reaching to help him take his t-shirt off. 

He's gorgeous. Hair a bit messy, lips glossy and red from the kiss. He pants a little, and you reach to glide your hand over his abs and chest, circling over his nipple. You can hear a tiny pleased sound leaving him, but it's not enough. He reattaches himself to you right away, mouth finding your neck. He kisses, bites, and licks at your most sensitive spots. You take him back gladly, hugging him close and moving your hips to meet his. He seems eager to do the same, another perfect sound leaves his lips. It's a groan, and it's right into your ear, and it makes your head spin. 

''God, you feel amazing.'' He breathes out, and you can't take it anymore. You want him, you need him with you, on you, in you. Your clothes get swiftly discarded, that eagerness earning you a quiet snicker. You don't care; your brain is in a fog, Yunho is the only thing on your mind.

''Please, touch me.'' you ask, settled in his sheets and looking up in his eyes, dark pools filled with lust to the brim. 

He obliges, positioning himself at your side. ''How do you want it, baby?'' He asks, but his hands are already on you. He groups your breasts once more, bringing his mouth to suck at your neck, moving down until he can lick your nipple. He plays with you as he pleases, kneading your skin and ghosting over the area where you want him the most. ''Please,'' you whine. 

''What? Isn't it good when I touch you here? Or maybe here?''

He moves his hand to massage your thighs so close to your hot core, playing with your inner thighs, pinching slightly. You start to buck your hips involuntarily. Oh, but then he moves it over your belly to your nipples again. You tug at his hands and whine again. With more and more whimpering coming from you, he surrenders. 

Long fingers find your sticky folds to roll through them. The sound you let out makes his dick twitch in his underwear. When he finally pays attention to your clit, you feel exstatic. You look at him, at his concentrated face as he plays with you. You're lost in this feeling, lost in him. His fingers enter you suddenly, and you try to say something, but no real words come out. All you can think of is how good he feels inside of you. Your fingers can never do what his long ones can. They strech you a bit, just enough to feel this sweet pressure and leave you wanting more. Just enough to reach that gummy spot there that makes you see stars behind your eyelids. 

''You look so good like this, fuck.'' He praises. His voice brings you back to reality. ''So fucked out already, and I barely even done anything.'' 

You want to protest, to say that you are not fucked out yet, but the way your walls clench around his fingers is a dead giveaway. You are losing your mind a little. Can he really blame you, though, when he's the one pressing on that spot inside of you, so, so well. You can't really say anything, the only sounds escaping are your moans. Yunho thinks your voice sounds like honey, so sweet and thick with arousal. He bucks his hips against you, breathing deeply.

You reach for his cock, still trapped in his sweats and boxers. Suddenly, the fabric is just so frustrating. He lets out an airy laugh at your feeble attempt at touching him, taking his fingers out. You mewl at sudden loss pathetically. 

''What's wrong, love? Do you miss me already?''

He leaves your side not even for a minute, but it feels like forever. With a teasing grin, he discards the rest of his clothing and finally climbs back to bed, now on top of you. It's great. He's big and pinning you down and pressing to you just right. 

You want him inside, so you try to shift a little, make it more comfortable for him to finally fuck you, but he doesn't budge. The look you're giving his way is comical. You're flushed and needy, and there's that throbber almost visible on your forehead again. Your boyfriend doesn't give you time to ask, diving into another heated kiss with you. Your moan is bordering on a sob when he opts to fuck your mouth with his tongue instead of fucking you like you desperately need him to. 

When at last he's lining his cock up with your slit, you think you're actually going to cry. He's so hard and so big, the stretch feels euphoric. Pleasure overtakes and your eyes flutter shut as he slowly bottoms out. 

''Keep your eyes open. Look at me, baby.'' 

His words come out in a mix of a moan and a growl. You swear you could come just listening to him, hand-free and all that. You open your eyes, and the sight is breathtaking. He moves inside of you, your walls feel hot and tight and like the most expensive velvet. You can see all of that in his eyes. He feels so good, and you're the one making him hiss and groan in pleasure, his mouth forming the perfect O's and stuttering muddled praises. God, you love him.

You can't keep thinking about it for much longer. The pace he's set becomes a bit faster and sloppier, and he reaches his hand in between your bodies to put pressure on your clit. With it comes his strangled warning, '' 'm close, honey.'' And you can feel it, too. His dick hits that spot in you just right, and with your clit stimulated, the familiar feeling is building in your stomach faster and faster. ''Me too,'' your eyes close without you realizing it, and with a cry of his name, you come all over his cock. A string of curses follows, and you feel him twitch, hips stilling, and warm liquid fills you up. 

You take a minute to come down to earth again, and so does he. Leaving a chaste kiss on your cheek, he rolls over beside you, still panting a little. 

''Fuck. My baby, you did so well.'' 

You're not sure how it is possible to feel so giddy and syrupy after being so unbelievably horny just a second ago. Guess he has that effect on you.

''It was amazing, Yuyu. I love you, so much.''

''I love you too.''

He drapes his blanket over the both of you, snuggling closer, stroking your hair with your head on his chest. You want to say more cheesy things to him. Just as you open your mouth, though, there's a knock on the door, and Mingi's figure pops in, hand covering his eyes.

''Are you guys done? Please tell me you're decent; I do not want to see y/n's boobs or worse!'' 

You yelp, tugging the covers to your chin. Both Yunho and you decide to speak.

''We're decent.'' 

''When did you come back?!''

''Just in time to hear the closing credits.''

Mingi is now taking in the scene. Clothes scattered on the floor, Yunho's disheveled look, you trying to hide in the blanket. Lovely.

''I am traumatized, by the way.''

''What's that supposed to mean?''

''We brought beef, by the way. Wanna join us in the kitchen?''

You're lost. You don't know if you should feel embarrassed or offended. Mingi doesn't bat an eye at your barely covered form. At least that's what it feels like.

''Let us maybe get dressed first?'' Yunho chimes in, hugging you to him to try and cover himself a bit too. 

Mingi leaves, and you let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding. You start to shift a bit when the door gets burst open once again, followed by, ''Wait, so you are actually dating?!''

[into-deepspace]

Hello! Hope you're having a great day!

May I request for Rafayel's reaction when MC comes out as non-binary? It's something that's never left my head since I started playing lnds. I can't help but worry if it'd change things for him even though I know it won't (insecurity did a number on me🥹). What if MC wanted to present themes as masc/femme? How would he react?

Sorry if this is too long and complicated and I understand if you don't want to write for this but if you do write it it'd mean the world to me. Thank you for reading this ask🌸🌸

aaa of course!!! dw it wasn't long or complicated at all! i had a lot of fun writing this, and i rlly hope i did rafayel justice here <33 i feel like it ended awkwardly but ah what can u do. anywayyyy:

as you are

rafayel/mc • nonbinary mc • 1.6k • ao3 link requests open, reblogs appreciated! mild hurt/comfort || coming out || tooth-rotting fluff || established relationship

MC stares at themselves in the mirror fixing their hair nervously. In twenty minutes, they’re meeting Rafayel at a cafe, one of their favourites. They’d made the plans several days ago, and have been nervously thinking through every possibility ever since. After all, coming out, no matter who it’s to, is nerve wracking.

“I need to talk to you,” they’d sent him, late in the evening when both of them really should have been asleep. Despite the late hour, typing bubbles immediately popped up from Rafayel’s end. He sends a sticker of a distressed yellow bird, then a message.

Rafayel, 11:48 PM are u breaking up with me :(

A bit frantic, MC typed back a quick response. Of course Rafayel, ever dramatic, would assume the worst.

MC, 11:48 PM No omg?

Rafayel, 11:48 PM DUN SCARE ME LIKE THAT THEN???? Those are FIGHTING WORDS. fighting words i tell u!!

MC sighed, but couldn't help but laugh a bit. It was never a dull moment with him around, one of the things they have always loved about him. They explained that no, they're not breaking up with him, but they did have something a little more serious they needed to talk with him about.

Rafayel, 12:03 AM okayyyy spill the beans cutie wait no serious I Am Prepared To Listen To Your Words. Please Begin.

MC, 12:04 AM Actually, i wanted to talk in person Can we meet @ our usual cafe on saturday

They waited nervously for Rafayel's response, picking at a stray thread in their blanket. But as usual, they had nothing to worry about

Rafayel, 12:05 AM ofc ofc ill buy u a tea and a cake and we can talk <3

They couldn't help but smile at their phone. He was always so sweet, so ready to adjust and accommodate. They just hope he’ll be the same way about this new revelation.

Now, MC has been going by their chosen name for a long while, so long that most people don’t even know the name they were given at birth. They’ve always presented a little more [femme/masc] than their peers, and Rafayel didn’t seem to mind any of that. If anything, he encouraged it, saying that the way they expressed themselves was art in it of itself. But would this, their coming out, be a piece of the puzzle that he wasn’t okay with?

MC sighs, smoothing their clothes one last time and telling themselves that they really do need to get going. Sitting here and stewing in their anxieties isn’t going to make anything better. They grab their bike helmet and make their way down to the street, setting off.

An uneventful drive later, they arrive at the cafe and park, fixing their hair in their phone camera after they take their helmet off. It seems Rafayel hasn’t arrived yet, which means they can go in and order for themselves. Usually, they’re fine with Rafayel paying for their treats, but what if he’s upset this time? What if he realizes he’s spent money on someone he can’t accept.

Just as they’re pulling their card from their wallet to pay for their drink and pastry, an arm wraps around their waist and lips press against their cheek, startling them.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Rafayel says, tone light and joking as he slips their wallet from their hands, tucking it back into their pocket. Ignoring their protests, he turns to the person at the register. “Add a vanilla iced coffee to that please, with… hm, six sugars.” MC can only watch as his drink is added to the total and he slots his card into the reader, looking pleased with himself.

Rafayel takes their hand and walks them over to a table by the window, pulling out their chair for them with a dramatic flourish. Normally, MC would laugh at his antics, but they’re too nervous right now to manage anything more than a tight smile. Rafayel, of course, notices right away.

“What’s wrong, cutie?” he asks, taking their hands as he kneels in front of their chair. MC takes a shaky breath, trying to school their expression into something at least neutral.

“I’m okay,” they say. “I promise.” For a moment, Rafayel tilts his head and searches their face. Then, with a sigh, he stands, pressing a kiss to their knuckles as he does.

“Okay,” he smiles. “We’ll talk once you’ve got something tasty to keep you company, okay?” This prompts a smile, a little more real this time, from MC.

“Okay,” they whisper.

Ever the gentleman, Rafayel goes to retrieve their order, tasting his own drink before adding two more pumps of sugary syrup to it and sprinkling cinnamon across the top. He comes back to their table, setting MC’s portion in front of them. They taste their own drink and nod in satisfaction, cutting a piece of their pastry to place into their mouth.

“Do you want some?” they ask, offering a forkful to Rafayel. With an easy smile, he waves away their question.

“Nah,” he says. “This here is sweet enough.” He shakes his drink, the ice in it rattling as specks of cinnamon swirl around. MC nods, taking the bite for themselves.

They let themselves savor the moment for a bit before speaking. After all, they don’t know if this is something they’ll ever have again. They make their way about halfway through the pastry before they take another long sip of their drink and fold their hands in their lap.

“I have something I need to tell you,” they say, before they can lose their resolve. “...Please don’t be upset with me.” Rafayel smiles, reaching across the table with his palm up, gesturing for their hand. MC obliges, tangling their fingers together, and Rafayel squeezes reassuringly.

“I won’t be,” he promises. “You can tell me anything. I swear.”

MC takes a deep breath. They appreciate that he’s putting his usual jokes and quips aside, sensing the nervous gravity of the moment, but it almost makes them even more anxious. Biting their lip, MC decides it’s better to rip the metaphorical band-aid off in one go.

“I’m nonbinary,” they say simply. “And I’m sorry I’ve been keeping this from you.”

Rafayel blinks for a moment, silent. MC feels their eyes sting.

“What?”

“Uh.” Out of all the scenarios they’d mentally prepared for, this wasn’t one of them. “You know,” they begin, “like, I’m not a guy, but I’m also not a girl. It’s-”

“No, I know what nonbinary means, silly,” Rafayel grins. “Why would you ever think I’d be upset at you over this?” MC feels the sting in their eyes become welling moisture, and Rafayel scrambles to drag his chair around to their side of the table and pull them into a tight embrace.

“I thought you were gonna tell me that you were moving away, or that you lost your job or something!” he says, rocking them back and forth, gently, slowly. With a shaky breath, MC tucks their face into Rafayel’s shoulder, smiling to themselves. But he’s not done, continuing as he pulls them tighter.

“And if you come to me tomorrow and say you feel some other way, or that you want to change your name or buy new clothes or change your hair, that’s okay! MC, I love you no matter what. I promise, something like this is never ever going to come between me and you.” They’re full on sobbing now, the relief that comes with acceptance and the lovely promises spilling from Rafayel’s lips making all sorts of emotions surge in their chest.

Rafayel pulls back, cupping their face with one hand and wiping their tears away with the other. He smiles, a radiant and loving thing, and MC can’t help but give a breathy, relieved laugh as he leans in to place light little kisses along their cheeks.

“I don’t know why I was so nervous,” MC admits. “You never did anything to make me worried about this.” Rafayel shrugs.

“It’s a big thing to tell someone,” he says. “I’m proud of you. I know this took a lot.”

“It really did,” MC acknowledges. Rafayel ruffles their hair affectionately before scooting his chair back over to his side, keeping one of MC’s hands in his own.

“Okay, okay,” he says, buzzing with energy now that the serious moment is waning. “Finish your pastry and then we can go shopping.” MC blinks, surprised.

“We weren’t planning on going-”

“Uh-uh!” Rafayel cuts in, waving a hand in their face and startling a laugh from them. “Shhhh, we’re going shopping. You wanna go buy pretty things with me soooo bad. You would never think of saying no to this lovely face of mine.”

“Oh, my god,” MC laughs, nearly dropping their fork. “You’re so dramatic.” In response, Rafayel gives a pleased smile and makes a motion as if flicking hair behind his shoulder. MC shakes their head good naturedly, taking another bite of their pastry.

They do, in fact, end up out in the shops, and Rayafel buys them a jacket they’ve been eyeing for a long while. The two of them swing their intertwined hands between them as they walk, enjoying each others’ presence. It’s late in the evening by the time they decide to part ways, and even then, Rafayel convinces MC to sleep over at his house.

A couple hours later, laying in bed, MC watches Rafayel’s sleeping face with a soft smile. They never thought they’d be lucky enough for a relationship like this.

[pirateborn-a]

will i Ever be normal about my muses No

[rebelfell]

made for lovin’ you

older!Eddie Munson x fem!reader

A bad Tinder date gets a whole lot better…

18+ MDNI┃9k

cw: age difference (30s/40s), alcohol, smoking, light choking, softdom!Eddie, face fucking, light hair pulling, fingering, piv sex, finishing inside, and aftercare ‘cos we deserve it ♥️

I’ve been in a Mood and now you all have to suffer.

eddie edit by @eddiemunsons-missingnipple

Holy shit, was this guy boring.

Not terribly surprising, unfortunately. Your expectations weren’t all that high to begin with. Most of your recent forays into online dating had been yielding overwhelmingly middling results and this one was no exception.

He had seemed perfectly nice on the app, when he was nothing but a handful of generic pictures and a smattering of inoffensive text bubbles. But any appeal he held had been in steady decline the moment he took his seat next to you at the bar.

He looked more scared of you than anything—fumbling his words and constantly having to push up his glasses as they slid down the bridge of his sweaty nose. You did what you could to help him relax, coaxing him into the conversation, asking all of those tedious first date questions.

And every single one, he answered with nothing but curt, clipped responses. Making no attempt whatsoever to follow up or ask you literally one single thing about yourself.

Then you made the fatal mistake of asking about work, and suddenly longed for the wall of silence. As soon as he got the chance, he launched into a long and droning explanation of his research on the behavior of crickets.

Acheta Domesticus, not that you asked. And he didn’t so much as smirk at your gesundheit joke.

You might have called it quits entirely by now…if it wasn’t for the guy at the end of the bar.

He had arrived not fifteen minutes after your date did, and slid smoothly onto a stool directly in your eyeline. Which was good, considering you would have snapped your neck trying to get a look at him otherwise.

In a word, he was beautiful. 

Slightly older, with long dark hair that was wavy and ruffled. A short and scruffy beard that only further accentuated the hard line of his jaw where it met the thick, muscular column of his neck.

He was quite literally littered with accessories—a silver hoop that glinted in his nose, leather cuff and chains on his wrists, chunky rings on his fingers that rapped rhythmically on the bar.

Then there were the more permanent accessories in the form of black ink tattoos that covered both his arms and scrawled upwards to peek out from underneath the collar of his t-shirt. A mix of all different styles and designs, ranging in quality from the kitchen scratcher bats on his elbow to the larger and more artful pieces clearly woven in later to complete the tapestry.

You’d certainly never seen him here before, and that was sort of a feat for this place.

West End was one of your favorite places for this sort of date. It was close enough to your place to be convenient, yet far enough that there was no chance of a guy trying to invite himself over to “use the bathroom” or “wait for an Uber” or whatever other excuses they dredged up.

It was actually two businesses in one, sharing the same name, running out of opposite sides of the same building. Causing only mild confusion.

To one side was a wine bar with cozy seating nooks furnished with plush loveseats, sofas and overstuffed armchairs, all a mishmash of vintage styles from thrift shops and flea markets.

But the other side was all modern and industrial—a billiards hall with high ceilings, exposed brick walls, and a large, glossy horseshoe bar that surveyed the tables from the center.

You tended to frequent the wine bar with your roommate Robin whenever you found yourselves in need of a moody atmosphere and some low, soft lighting, your evening scored by the crackle of some great vinyl record. But the other side was better for dates because it automatically gave you the out of an activity in case you found the conversation lacking.

And boy was it lacking tonight.

He regarded the pool tables more like they were live alligators and quickly dismissed your offer to play before launching right back into his overly-detailed explanation of the differences in the eating habits of crickets and grasshoppers. You sighed, no longer attempting to disguise your boredom as you propped your elbow on the bar and rested your chin on your hand.

It wasn’t just that his research was boring—though it was. Really, the problem was all of his technical explanations were so dry and devoid of any emotion that it made you wonder if he even enjoyed it. You had more stimulating interactions with the bartender, for crying out loud.

He was new to you too, but he moved behind the bar with such ease it seemed like he’d worked there for years. He’d introduced himself as Steve, a row of pearly white teeth winking at you as he flashed a smile you were sure had won him his fair share of superlatives in high-school. 

His look read more upscale mixologist, sporting a dark gray vest over a crisp white button down. Sleeves rolled up to show off his forearms that flexed with the pour of every drink, and the collar left open to reveal the glint of a gold chain resting on the soft down of his plentiful chest hair.

The hair on his head was shorter and lighter than the other man’s, but it was long enough to curl slightly around his ears and along the nape of his neck. The ends of it were kissed with caramel highlights that shone in the light when he flipped his head back or ran his large hands through the feathered locks whenever a piece fell forward into his bright hazel eyes.

Most importantly, he also seemed to be friends with your current fixation.

They had greeted each other jovially, hands meeting in a tight clasp over the bar before Steve grabbed a bottle of whiskey and started to pour without the other man even having to order. You watched with morbid fascination as those plush lips wrapped around the rim of his glass and his eyes fluttered closed as he took his first sip, the tattoo on his neck bobbing with the swallow. 

Jesus Christ on a cracker…

Suddenly, as though he could sense you watching, his eyes popped open and immediately locked on yours. You started at the sight of the deep brown, almost black, vortexes in the middle of his face, nearly choking on the sip you were taking of your own drink—an excellent Malbec Steve had recommended when you first arrived.

A rush of warmth exploded on your face and you looked away, doing your best to pretend like he hadn’t just caught you blatantly staring at him.

Or that you hadn’t felt that egregious burst of excitement when he did. Did he care that you were looking? Was he looking at you now?

Doesn’t matter, you reminded yourself, trying to return your attention to the man in front of you.

The one you had made an actual plan to come here and meet; the one who was…still talking.

The next bit of your date felt like it took an entire year. You mostly phoned it in, reluctant to admit defeat too quickly. But over and over again, you found your focus drifting either to the stranger at the end of the bar, or to the bartender. And often, those two went hand in hand.

Again, they were either very old friends or both of them were extremely friendly. They talked and joked back and forth in between Steve helping other customers, bouncing from end to end of the bar with ease, charming smile never faltering as he enchanted every person he served.

As for the other man, you’d caught his eye enough times by now that there was no mistaking he was watching you. Though, you suppose that meant he knew you were staring at him as well…

At the end of your first glass of wine, you excused yourself from the bar—needing a break from this guy’s droning voice more than anything.

He nodded, finally taking a sip of his beer he’d barely made any progress on he’d been so entrenched in his recent soliloquy.

The bathrooms at West End were towards the back, down a long hall that obscured them from view of the rest of the bar. It gave the impression of being in an alleyway with black beadboard paneling that came a little over halfway up the wall and an eclectic gallery of pictures.

There were two bathrooms side by side, just single-room stalls adorned with brass apartment numbers rather than gendered signs, and you slipped into the one with no light coming out from underneath the door. And maybe you took a little longer than you probably needed, milking your break for all it was worth. Not stalling, just…taking care of some things.

Things like touching up your lip gloss that needed no touching up since you hadn’t said more than two words in the past half hour. Or like pulling up Tinder on your phone and setting your location to the absolute minimum distance. You know…just on the off-chance someone in the immediate vicinity happened to also have the dating app installed.

No such luck, you found.

A bit more deflated than you had any right to be, you tucked your phone back into your bag and rolled your eyes at yourself as you reached for the doorknob. You didn’t look up until you were almost at the end of the hall and when you did, you found brown eyes looking back at you.

He was headed for the bathroom as you were coming back and he caught you at the start of the long, narrow hallway leading to them. Your eyes met his as you approached and you paused, already anticipating that awkward shuffle of both of you trying to get out of the other’s way.

There was no awkwardness, though. 

Heat pooled low in your belly as he held your gaze, and rather than breezing right by when you came to a stop, he stopped as well and leaned against the wall to let you pass. He was close enough now that you could see his hair was streaked with slivers of silver and more grays tinged the edges of his beard, particularly under his ears behind the hinge of his jaw.

Your shoulder just barely brushed his chest as you passed, eye contact holding until you were looking back at him over your shoulder as you returned to the bar.

He stood there, watching until you’d rounded the corner and were out of sight before he moved. Pulse thrumming, you slid into your seat with his cologne still in your nose, tickling your brain.

By the end of your second glass of wine, you were more than ready to go. Frowning as you took your last sip, you gave Steve a regretful shake of your head when he asked if you wanted another.

And beside you, Dale just requested your checks as he pushed away his beer.

You didn’t bother with feeling annoyed he hadn’t offered to get even one of your drinks. To be fair, you had not been remotely good company as it was, and especially not once the guy at the far end of the bar decided to call it a night.

Your heart sank just a little as you watched him stand and pull on a creased and faded leather jacket. He then headed for the door, his eyes locking with yours one last time as he went.

Beside you, your date cleared his throat loudly to get your attention and your head jerked up as you realized Steve had placed your receipt in front of you to sign. If Dale—wait, was it Dale or Dave?—noticed your fixation, he was too polite (or too chicken) to mention anything about it.

Tabs closed and coats thrown back on, you followed Dale (Drew? Dirk?) outside. The wintry air cut through your tights and you hugged your coat a little tighter around you.

“So, which way are you headed?” you asked, rushing out the words before he could ask the same thing and float the idea of sharing a ride.

“Uptown?” he replied.

“Ahh, I’m the other way.”

A derisive snort made your head whip sideways and your eyes darted to the source, landing first on the glowing orange dot of a cigarette and then on the plush pink lips wrapped around the filter at the other end. The snide comment locked and loaded on your tongue abruptly stalled.

It was him.

He leaned against the brick facade, foot kicked up behind him, watching your whole interaction. It made your cheeks burn with indignation, but the hungry look in his dark eyes made your entire lower half throb. His lips curved like the blade of a knife into a smirk as he stubbed his cigarette out on the wall and dropped it in a planter filled with sand next to him. You stared at him, your mind sort of blank, and his eyes remained fixed on yours as he strode back inside the bar.

“Okay, well…I guess I’m gonna go,” Dale sighed, a little petulantly.

You brought your eyes back to him and plastered on your most professional smile, shaking his hand formally like this was the end of an interview for a job he was never gonna get.

“Sounds good,” you said. “Nice to meet you.”

He frowned as he turned away, but you felt relatively certain you’d navigated that fine.

Surely he hadn’t felt the date warranted any other sort of follow-up or lie about doing it again—you certainly hadn’t been on your A-game. And you shuddered to think that was his.

Once he’d gotten in his Uber, alone, and you had assured him the one you had yet to call was on its way, you tugged your phone out of your coat pocket and checked the time.

Right now, you had two choices. It was still early enough that Robin could probably come pick you up with minimal begging required.

Maybe you two could get fries and milkshakes and watch some garbage reality tv before falling asleep in a little cuddle pile on the couch.

It was the reasonable option.

The logical, safe choice.

But all your dates lately had been so painfully reasonable and logical and safe. There had been no horror stories to regale Robin with at Sunday brunch, nor any explosive sexual exploit the two of you could squeal and giggle over while curled up on your overstuffed sofa.

It was downright boring. And you were growing pretty weary of it.

You glanced down one more time at your phone, still thinking. Your thumb hovered over Robin’s contact info, needing only a single tap to dial, while your index rested on the lock button.

With a subtle flex of your hand, you clicked the screen off and headed back into the bar.

One more drink couldn’t hurt…right?

“Back so soon?”

Steve was already smiling smugly at you as you approached, his eyebrow cocked as you slid back into your original seat and returned his smile with one of your own.

“I decided I couldn’t live without another glass of that Malbec,” you sighed dreamily. 

He nodded, amusement still tugging at his lips as he uncorked the bottle you’d been steadily draining all night and took down a clean glass from one of the wire racks suspended overhead. You pulled your card from your bag and held it out for him to reopen your tab, but Steve waved it off as he placed down the newly filled glass in front of you and slid it smoothly across the bar.

“It’s taken care of, honey,” he said.

“Oh, really?” you chuckled. “By who?”

Steve smirked at your incredulous tone, his muscled forearms flexing as he leaned on them.

You leaned forward as well, crossing your arms under your chest, knowing how nicely it propped up your cleavage. It made the bartender’s eyes flash as he lowered his voice to a leading hum.

“The dirtbag at the end of the bar.”

He nodded his head backwards, making those caramel-kissed locks of his flop across his brow. Your gaze followed Steve’s nod, landing on the wild head of hair and all-consuming brown eyes you’d been distracted by all night. The “dirtbag” in question was staring straight back at you, the corner of his mouth curled as he raised his rocks glass of brown liquor and tipped it to you.

“Is he really a dirtbag?” you asked him, your eyes never dropping the stranger’s gaze.

“Nah,” Steve shook his head. “Just looks like one.”

“Good to know.” 

You hummed to yourself, feeling almost a little cocky as you brought your glass to your lips and took an excruciatingly slow sip. The eyes of the man across the bar watched you intently, a fire burning in them that ignited your very being.

As Steve moved on to another customer, you pulled your eyes from those of the handsome stranger and let them fall briefly to the empty stool beside you. It was about as bold as you were willing to be at the time, but it did the trick. He promptly swiveled in his seat to slide off it and you smirked to yourself as you looked down, pretending to be fascinated by the garnet liquid swirling in your glass as he came around the bar.

“That’s a great Malbec,” he said.

God, his voice.

It made your cheeks (among other things) tingle, smooth and smoky as the whiskey in his glass you could smell as he placed it down beside your wine. The scent of it mixed with his cologne that was dangerously close to becoming your new favorite aroma—something woodsy and heady with a tinge of lightness like a salty sea breeze.

“It is,” you agreed, brow arching as he took the seat beside you. “You’ve had it before?”

“Nah,” he smirked. “You made it look so good, I had Stevie give me a taste. I told him to put your next one on me.”

Both of your brows raised at that. “And how’d you know I was coming back?”

“I didn’t,” he said, taking a cheeky sip of his drink. “I just hoped.”

You felt a smile burgeoning on your lips and pulled your bottom one back with your teeth trying, unsuccessfully, to fight it. He watched it spreading, the tip of his tongue running over the edges of his teeth as he offered you his hand.

You slid your own into his, feeling the exquisite pressure of chunky silver rings pressing on your fingers as he gave them a gentle squeeze.

“Hi,” he said. “I’m Eddie.”

“Nice to meet you, Eddie,” you purred right back, offering him your name after a beat.

He repeated it once, all low and rumbly, taking his time with the sound of it in his mouth like it was a piece of chocolate melting on his tongue. Holding your hand a bit longer than necessary.

“So I’m assuming Desperate Dan out there wasn’t your boyfriend?” Eddie asked, chuckling into his next sip. The sound of it spiraled down your back, electrifying your spine.

“Nope,” you sighed heavily. “Just another drop in the Tinder bucket.”

Eddie’s dark eyes gleamed with something like mischief and he made a tsking sound with his tongue. “Well, if that’s the case, I sincerely apologize, sweetheart.”

“Oh, yeah?” You smiled at him. “What for?”

His eyes flickered again, this time taking a long moment to do a sweep up and down your body. Landing on your knees in your tights, flitting back up to your face as she shook his head.

“If someone like you has had to resort to dating apps…we’ve clearly failed as a gender.”

You actually shivered at the words, forcing your shoulders still not to show it as you propped your elbow on the bar and swiped the tips of your nails across your chin and along your jaw to play with your earring. Deepening your voice to a sultry murmur he had to lean in close to hear.

“No argument there.”

You rushed into the bathroom, flapping both your hands back and forth to fan your face and then under your arms. Safely hidden behind the door, your air of detachment could fall away and you could finally let out all the patently un-cool reactions you had been fighting the last hour.

With trembling hands, you pulled your phone out of your bag and fired off a text to Robin.

hey, I’m gonna share my location with you the rest of the night.

wait WHAT? Losera Annoyingus is getting a bang pass?

no he left…

…about an hour ago.

A blue bubble with three blinking dots immediately popped up on the thread and you imagined Robin’s thumbs actually smoking she was typing so furiously fast. But she must decide to abandon her message, because within a split second, a picture of you and her with your faces smushed together came up on the screen as she called you instead.

“Hey,” you whispered, praying your voice didn’t echo too much off the tiled walls.

“Explain,” she demanded. “Now.”

The excitement in her voice only increases your own, your cheeks still impossibly hot as you stand over the sink and fan yourself some more before another layer of sweat can form on your face.

“It’s this guy I met at the bar. He was like, making eyes at me while I was on my date and we started talking after and I just—I don’t know for sure, but it feels like he’s gonna take me home.”

“Is he hot?”

“Yes,” you breathed out a heavy, lustful sigh. “He’s so hot I wanna rip his appendix out.”

“Holy shit,” Robin whistled. “What’s he look like?”

“He’s…I don’t know,” you laughed. “He kind of looks like a Harley that came to life.”

“Alright then, you better go ride him.”

Robin’s snorted laugh makes you cover your own face with your palm. It’s searing hot now, your blood pumping furiously beneath the surface of your skin.

“Well, I have to get back out there to make that happen.”

“Go, go, go—have fun, use protection! Wait, hang on, not in that order!”

You laughed at her warning coming through faintly over the receiver as you mashed the button to end your call. With one last steadying breath, you leaned on the sink and nodded decisively.

“Okay,” you exhaled. “Let’s do this.”

Sage and sea salt filled your nose as you yanked the door open and nearly ran straight into the source of the scent. Eddie leaned against the wall across from the bathroom doors, shoulders shifting subtly as he twisted one of the large rings on his fingers. 

You stood face to face now, hands hovering at your sides as you edged into the hallway.

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly, tucking his chin to his chest as he looked up at you from under long lashes. “Someone’s in the other one.”

You glanced suspiciously at the second bathroom door, seeing no light coming from underneath it. Eddie winced, still smirking adorably as you turned the knob and pushed it open to reveal it was empty on the other side. He chuckled, holding up his hands in a mock surrender.

“Fine,” he sighed. “You caught me.”

“Thought I was making a break for it?” you asked, pulling the door shut. Eddie’s tongue pushed against the inside of his cheek, his eyes roving over you slowly.

“I’d hate to think I scared you off,” he said as he kicked off the wall to stand up straight.

You crossed your arms under your chest, giving him a smile. “I don’t scare so easy.”

He nodded at that, his eyes still taking you in, scanning you like he was reading invisible stats. They lingered a few places you expected, like the curve of your hips and the swell of your chest. But then they landed on other things too, things you weren’t used to people noticing. 

Things like your shoulders, or your calves in your boots, even your fucking ears.

“So…everything alright?” he asked, his voice lowering as he took a step closer.

“Yeah, I was just letting my roommate know I might be gone a while.” You held up your phone and tucked it back inside your bag with another coy smile. He chuckled.

“A while, huh?” Step.

“Yeah, you know...it’s pretty late.” Step. “Might be tough to get an Uber.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Eddie shrugged. “I live close.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You were nose to nose now, barely a whisper of space between you, the air thick with the heat radiating off your bodies in the narrow space.

The well worn leather of his jacket sleeve creaked softly as his hand came up to rest on the wall, caging you in with his arm.

“How close?” you asked, breath shuddering as you leaned on the door for support.

“Up the street,” he sighed. “But it’s still too far.”

His warm breath ghosted over your lips as they parted, the smell of the liquor coating his tongue making you feel woozy. Or maybe that was just the effect he was having on you.

He was so close now you could hear the bristly sound his beard made as he scratched at it with blunt fingertips. He’d barely inhaled to ask if he could kiss you when you surged forward to press your lips to his—the roughness of his beard on your chin a welcome abrasion.

Scratching the itch that’s plagued you all night.

It’s a hungry, lawless sort of kiss. Quick and clashing and difficult to tell if it’s actually mean or not—like two dogs play-fighting, both trying to see how much they can get away with before light snarls and soft snaps of their jaws turn to whimpers and whines.

Eddie parried with you for control, his tongue darting in and out of your mouth as he plied you with teasing, playful kisses you fought to deepen, tugging at his shirt. He pushed off the wall and reached down to grab your wrists, pinning them over your head to keep them in place.

The thrill of him trying to restrain you only made you unravel further, straining impatiently against his grasp. Breathless, you stretched out your neck and pushed your face past all his hair to place your lips beside his ear and pant into it.

“Can we go back to—”

“You wanna come back to—”

The both of you chuckled and exhaled with relief as your words and his overlapped, and you felt a sudden rush between your legs from the way Eddie’s eyes blazed with intention.

He released his hold on your wrists and your arms fell limp at your sides. In an instant, he had your hand wrapped tightly in his and was pulling you along as he angled towards the exit.

As you hurried after him out of the hallway and across the bar, you distantly registered music playing, picking out the chugging guitar and bass riffs of some 80s dance song. From behind the bar, Steve caught Eddie’s eye and you saw him offer his friend a two finger salute as the two of you burst through the door, your departure narrated by Paul Stanley’s deep, silky croon.

And tonight, I want to lay at your feet. Cause girl, I was made for you, And girl, you were made for me…

Eddie wasn’t kidding about living close.

Your boots clacked on the sidewalk as he ushered you along under his arm, the quick pace of your walk driven both by the chill in the air and the desire to resume what you started at the bar.

“This is me,” he said, indicating a four-story brick building just a block away from West End.

His place was on the top floor. It was a large studio with high ceilings and many features similar to the bar you’d just left. Half of the space was raised like a platform with a steel wire railing running along the edge. He had his bed up there and what looked like an office, but he’d created a divider of sorts with cube shelves filled with sweats, hoodies and t-shirts.

Promptly, you recalled him telling you he owned a company that designed and distributed merch for independent artists, and how he was constantly receiving samples from suppliers.

The kitchen was simple, sleek cabinetry and stainless steel appliances without a single smudge. A massive butcher’s block with a wooden top and wire racks underneath serving as an island. And a steel rack hanging down from overhead laden with cast iron cookware.

You took a few more careful steps inside, chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath from being kissed stupid in the elevator while Eddie flipped some switches that illuminated the space with recessed lighting. Large black-paned windows revealed a view of the city and the night sky outside, some amber light from the street filtering in and casting across the oak floors.

In his living area was a massive brown leather sectional with extra-deep cushions and a chaise at both ends. It faced a plain wall with a screen you assumed went with the projector hanging down from one of the exposed beams overhead.

Every inch of your skin crackled with excitement as he came up behind you and reached around to grip the lapels of your coat and help you out of it, letting his fingertips skim your bare arms as he did. It made you shiver in spite of the warm air you could feel pumping out of the vents.

He hung up your coat next to his on a hook by the front door and you turned to face him as he sauntered back over. His gait was relaxed and casual, like he had all the time in the world. 

Like he wasn’t driving you up the wall with every second you went without his mouth on yours.

“Did you want another drink?”

He gestured in the direction of a liquor cabinet, glass shelves lined with a modest array of wines and spirits, but you shook your head at the offer.

“Not particularly,” you said with a coy grin.

Reaching out and hooking a finger in his belt loop, you whirled yourself into him and slotted your mouth against his, licking into it to taste the smoky remnants of whisky there. He breathed into it deeply, his broad chest expanding with it and chuckling when he felt your hands on his belt.

“Easy there, tiger,” he teased, your lips breaking apart and taking hold of your wrists to still their efforts. “What kind of girl do you think I am?”

“Hopefully the kind that knows how to fuck.”

You smirked, the tip of your tongue flicking out between your teeth as your face veered in again. Your hips pressed with his and you began to sway back and forth, gently grinding them on him, resuming the dance you’d begun. His face came close, his hands settling on your waist.

“C’mon, honey,” he drawled. “Haven’t you heard good things come to those who wait?”

His lips trailed along the column of your neck, sending a riot of shivers down your spine causing you to release a breathy sigh.

“Sorry, what? All I heard was come.”

Eddie chuckled at that and his breath rushed across your neck as he smiled into your jugular.

“You’re funny,” he sighed. “We’ll see how funny you are when I get done with you.”

It was a miracle your knees didn’t buckle on the spot. Your eyes rolled back in your head, almost seeing the inside of your skull as his hand came up and he placed it around your throat.

“You want this?” he asked, his tone cool and precise, his eyes wandering across your face.

“Yes,” you gasped, all desperate and panting now you were so eager for him to start.

His thumb and middle finger pressed the sides of your throat, slowing the flow of blood just enough to make your head go fuzzy and your body to go just barely limp in his arms. 

“Yes, what?” he growled. You drew a shuddering breath, unrestricted by his expert hold.

“Yes, I want this,” you answered. “I want you.”

Eddie took his time undressing you, softly kissing the new expanse of skin he unveiled with the removal of each piece of clothing.

He nipped lightly at your collar bones as he shed your blouse, canines catching briefly on the chain around your neck. He dragged his lips torturously slow over your stomach as he undid your skirt and it fell to the floor with a soft plop. His breath rush across your thigh as he kneeled to drag down the zippers of your boots, kissing your inseam though your tights all the way down to your ankles.

Every second was a kind of exquisite torture. Your heart hammered behind your ribs, the bones almost rattling with the force of it. And as much as you were dying to grab him by the back of the head and take over, you let yourself slip steadily under the spell of his affections.

You believed what he seemed to be whispering with his eyes in between every indelible kiss he dropped to your buzzing skin. He had you. He would take care of you. You could trust him.

And once you were totally bare in front of him, he held out his hand for you to take and he spun you in a slow circle like a ballerina in a music box, his eyes feasting on every inch of you.

If it was anyone else, you might have shied away. You might have felt some level of shame or concern about being stark naked in front of him while he was still fully clothed. You might have worried he would see something he didn’t like, some flaw or defect you preferred hidden. But the look on his face was nothing short of rapturous.

He walked you over to the couch and kissed you deeply as he removed his clothes. Showing not an ounce of the kind of care and consideration for his own as he did for yours, he stripped them off hastily and discarded them, tossing them away like they were garbage.

Your naked bodies came together in a full press, his arms curling around your form and his hands stroking your skin like he was trying to make sure not a single part of it went untouched.

At last, he sank down onto the sofa and his knees spread apart, his hard cock standing stiff and ready for you. He took your hands in his like he was going to pull you forward onto his lap, but you dropped to your knees instead, tucking your feet under your ass.

You looked up at him expectantly, your eyes darting between his face and his cock, the corners of your mouth curling upwards in a smile as your brows raised with a silent question.

“You sure?” he asked, circling his base with his thumb and forefinger to give a gentle squeeze. “I can take care of you, you know? Fuckin’ love to.”

“Don’t worry,” you said cooly, lashes fluttering as you scooted closer. “You will.”

You placed your hands on his knees and pushed them further apart so you could lean forward to kiss up the inside of his leg. Trying to give him a taste of his own slow, teasing medicine, you worked your way all the way up to the crease of his thigh and turned your head inward.

Eddie’s breath stuttered as your lips met his shaft, poking your tongue out to run it up the length. His head tipped to the side, his ear touching his shoulder to get a better view of you licking at him, halting grunts and gasps tumbling past his lips as yours puckered to kiss it more.

When you were satisfied you’d gotten him sufficiently worked up, you reached out and wrapped your hands around him fully, your fists stacked and twisting gently.

You stroked him off slow and even, your hands squeezing tight around his shaft, mixing your spit and the beginning of his spend that leaked from his tip. He watched you reverently, eyes hooded as he enjoyed your show. And looking up at him, a gooey sort of warmth filled your entire body.

You felt yourself slipping further into that sort of headspace you craved—all pliant and willing, your knees digging into his plush area rug as your legs tingled with numbness.

Your heart raced as you imagined giving yourself up to him completely. 

Letting him take whatever he wanted from you.

As though he sensed it, as though he could read the desperation in your eyes, he cradled your jaw in his large hand and dotingly stroked the side of your face as he tilted his head at you.

“What is it, baby?” he cooed encouragingly. “What do you want? You can tell me.”

“Want you to use me,” you pleaded, fingers still sliding around him. “Use my mouth.”

Eddie gazed at you where you kneeled in front of him, your eyes having gone all big and round and glassy, shining with the tears you were dying for him to make spill down your cheeks.

Begging for it.

“Of course, baby, of course,” he sighed, gripping your chin and swooping in to kiss you deeply.

His firm hold gave you permission to go limp and you let your hands fall from his cock to rest on his muscled thighs, palms coasting over his tattoos and sparse leg hair. He pulled back, keeping your chin grasped in his fingers, holding your face still as he instructed you.

“You slap me three times in a row if you want to stop, okay?” he ordered in a husky rasp. “Do it for me now, so I know you can.”

You obeyed instantly, delivering three strikes to his thigh. His lips curled in a devilish grin. 

“That’s it, just like that,” he hummed in approval. “What a smart girl you are, huh?”

The praise rippled down your back, his words making you tingle all over, much like your calves that were starting to go numb from sitting back on them. He reached around the back of your neck, gently guiding you into position so his cock was pointed directly at your lips. 

His large hands nearly covered your entire head, holding it in his firm grasp, his fingertips digging into your scalp and causing even more shivers. Eyes locked with his, you let your mouth hang open and your tongue loll out fully, reaching almost all the way to your chin. 

Eddie moaned loudly, mesmerized by the pool of spit you’d let collect in your mouth and the way it dribbled past your lips, running down your tongue and dripping onto your chest.

“Fuuuuck,” he chuckled low and rough, touching just the tip of his dick to your wet tongue. “You really want me dead, huh?”

Your eyes danced as you nodded, the motion causing your tongue to brush against his sensitive slit and spread his precum across the flat of it. A sharp gasp punched from his chest, not ready for the sensation, and his whole body shuddered with need. His eyes blazed and his nostrils flared as he gripped tighter around the back of your head and thrust fully into your mouth.

Lewd sounds filled the room as he pushed his cock past your lips, your mouth flooded with spit that poured out of you and pooled in the wiry thatch of hair at the base of his cock. You felt your body going lax and floppy as you gave yourself over to him, letting him hold your head up as you melted into little more than a puddle.

“That’s it, baby. Just let go, let me take what I need,” he drawled in that smoky voice, beginning a gentle thrust of his hips that pushed him deeper still into your mouth. “You’re doing so well…”

The salty tang of him covered your tongue as your jaw slackened to accommodate more of him, the sounds you were making coming out garbled.

“Christ, you sound so fucking sweet choking on my cock” he groaned. “What a good slut you are, huh? Giving me this mouth, letting me ruin it?”

You gagged loudly as his cock pushed in further until his tip met the back of your throat. He held the back of your head and your nose was nuzzling against the hair at his base, breathing in his thick and heady musk. Far earthier than his cologne, this was a smell that could only be him.

His eyes flitted to your hand clutching at him, your nails digging into the meat of his thigh.

But you made no move to tap out. Another tight spasm of your throat had him throwing his head back, his eyes pinching shut and his lips falling open in a desperate gasp.

“Shit, that feels so good,” he whined softly, his domineering mask slipping ever so slightly—the broken sound only making you go more feral.

Bracing yourself on his thighs, you began to push your head down to meet his thrusts, fucking your own face with his cock so hard that his grip on the back of your head was extraneous.

“Okay, okay—okay,” he grunted, chest heaving as he pulled you off him before he could blow.

His fingers held fast in your hair, squeezing it at the roots. You drew in air in great heaving breaths, panting from the effort, your tongue still hanging out of your mouth and head bobbing as you tried to chase the cock he had to drag you off of.

“You’re a greedy fucking girl, aren’t you, baby?” he chuckled, yanking your head back sharply so you were staring at the ceiling, eyes straining to look at him over the curves of your cheeks.

“Yes, sir,” you gasped back, chest still heaving.

“You want my cum that bad?” he teased lowly, pushing his face against yours and smearing the wetness of your tears across your cheeks.

“Yes, please,” you whined pitifully. “I need it.”

“Oh, you’ll get it,” he assured you, reaching down with his free hand to rub between your legs. “But only if it goes in this needy little pussy.”

Your entire body writhed as his fingers toyed with your swollen clit and dripping folds, scalp stinging where he gripped your hair with his other hand.

A pleasurable wail burst out of you as his thick fingers thrust inside your warm, wet hole and started to scissor relentlessly.

“YES, fuck—come in me. Please, please…”

More tears spilled freely down your cheeks as you begged him, drip, drip, dripping off your chin and onto your heaving chest, rolling down your naked body, leaving wet trails in their wake.

Eddie had to fight the urge to lick your clavicle. 

He hauled you up onto his lap, scooting down so he could plant his feet properly on the floor. Your knees sank into the worn leather of his cushions on either side of his hips and you used all what little strength you had left to reach down and align yourself with him.

“Don’t you hold back—haah—alright?” he said, hissing softly as you sank down on his length. “I want that fucking loser from Tinder to be able to hear you from here. Understand?”

You nodded, hips beginning to slide back and forth, relishing the way his thick cock prodded at your insides and stoked your desire. Eddie let you keep control for a moment, his hands squeezing at the softness of your stomach, molding it with them. He watched you raptly, mesmerized by the undulations of your body, the way you let it writhe and rock and squirm on him until he thought you might come solely from your own movements.

A loud, exhilirated moan burst out of you as he suddenly thrust his hips upwards, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he slammed into your g-spot on the first fucking stroke—as if he could see straight through your flesh to aim for it.

The room filled with sounds even more lewd than before—the wet clap of his thighs with your ass cheeks, his balls slapping your soaking pussy, your mound squishing into his pelvis.

Eddie threw his head back, overwhelmed by the sight of every part of you bouncing so prettily on him. And as he exposed his neck, everything in the room went hazy except that thick, taught, muscled column. Sending you feeling.

You clawed at it desperately and drew hot, red streaks down it with your nails that trailed all the way to the middle of his tattooed chest.

“That’s it, baby,” he groaned. “Mark me up. Show everybody who owns me—”

He slid his hands back to grip your ass, spreading the fleshy globes wide and stretching your holes further open as he continued to slam his length inside you. He let one side go and delivered a single stinging slap that reverberated throughout your whole body. 

The burn made you keen, arching your back until your chest was flush with his. He reached up to grip the back of your neck, taking your earlobe between his teeth and raking them over it.

“Now that that mouth is free, I wanna hear how good you feel,” he growled.

And if you thought you were loud before, it was nothing compared to now. The combination of his words and the perfect pace being set by his cock sent you instantly toppling over the edge, with Eddie’s own release following right behind.

In that moment, you vowed to send a fruit basket to every single one of his neighbors—an apology for making them think that a woman was getting murdered in the middle of the night two or three stories above their heads. The orgasm he brings you to makes you scream, practically sobbing as you cry out in immeasurable relief while searing hot pleasure ravages your entire body. 

It’s an ascent you’ve never dreamed of reaching the peak of, the feeling spreading to the tips of every extremity, filling you with fire. It feels so good, it almost makes you sad to know you might never feel like this again. And if your brain hadn’t already turned to mush, you might have cared.

As you dwindled down from your high, you slumped forward limp and spent—your body still rippling with the effects, Eddie’s arms coming up to hold you against him as he peppered your shoulder with soft, sweet kisses.

“That’s it,” he breathed out in your ear. “That’s it, baby, just feel it…such a good girl f’me…”

He ran his fingers slowly up and down the column of your spine, creating waves of shivers waiting for your trembling to subside.

His length grew soft inside of you, but he made no move to slide you from his lap or to rush you in the slightest. He let you cling on to him, your face buried in his sweaty neck, his long hair tickling your face, losing yourself in his touch.

Slowly, your breathing grew deep and even, your racing heart slowing in your chest. Eddie turned his head and spoke to you quietly with his warm breath fanning across your cheek.

“You ready to move?” he asked.

You gave a weak nod.

Wobbling on unsteady legs, you stood and his hands quickly moved to the curve of your waist to keep you steady. He took you to the bathroom which looked more like it belonged in a spa than someone’s house, sitting you on the toilet.

From a hook hanging on the back of the door, he produced two bright white waffle weave robes, offering one to you. And as you wrapped the soft material around your shoulders, he turned on one of the faucets and held his fingers underneath it to test the temperature.

Once he’d deemed it warm enough, he took a fluffy washcloth from a little pyramid of them that were rolled up next to the sink basin. He held it under the stream, saturating the cloth and then giving it a gentle twist. You watched his hands every step of the way, mesmerized by the way his veins bulged under his skin and the muscles in his arms flexed as he wrung out the excess water.

He rubbed the warm cloth gently across your face, wiping off the residue of tears and spit and cum and what little was left of your make-up until your bare face shone in the soft lighting. 

Once he had finished, he dropped the cloth into a hamper and cradled your face in his hands, his thumbs gliding easily over your slippery skin.

“So pretty,” he hummed, the words so soft you wondered if you were even meant to hear them.

From one of the drawers in the vanity, he brought out a pot of moisturizer and offered it to you with a smile. You frowned up at him, jutting out your bottom lip in a comical pout, not ready for him to stop taking care of you. It made him chuckle and a bemused smile spread across his lips as he tapped the tips of his fingers in the gel and started to smooth it over your cheeks.

“Come lay down with me?” he asked when he’d finished, head tilting back in the direction of the short set of stairs leading up to where his bed sat.

You nodded and he held out his hand to lead you out of the bathroom. You curled up on top of his dark duvet, your head sinking into the softness of his down pillow that held the faint scent of what you guessed was his tea tree oil shampoo.

The thick mattress dipped as he climbed onto it with you and draped a beige knit blanket over the both of you before he sidled up against your body.

It was…nice. More than nice. Shit, it was as close to perfect as you had felt in a long time.

The feel of his chest expanding and contracting against your back; his steady breath on the nape of your neck; the soft robe wrapped around your body and the comforting weight of the blanket on top of you. Not to mention Eddie’s arm curled securely around your waist. 

Your eyes felt heavy, like your eyelashes suddenly weighed a thousand pounds, and you drifted fully into sleep, succumbing to the relief that had washed over you not twenty feet away.

When you woke, it was still dark out. 

The street noise had lessened significantly and if you had to hazard a guess, it might have been close to one or two in the morning. Eddie’s place was darkened, lit only by orange street light that filtered through his windows and a half-dimmed reading light in the corner.

It was an arc lamp, suspended over a leather Eames chair where you could see that your coat and all of your previously discarded clothes were arranged in a neat little pile. But laid out at the foot of the bed right next to your feet were a pair of black fleece pants and hoodie, both about your size and emblazoned with the names of bands you didn’t recognize.

You sat up slowly, fingers hovering over the thick material as you debated. Were they for you? They looked a little big for Eddie, but maybe he had laid them out for himself? Was it a sign he was about to go to bed and you needed to get moving?

In the end, you slid out from underneath the blanket still draped over you and redressed in your clothes. After pulling your tights and skirt back on, stepping into your boots and zipping them up your calves, pulling your coat back on, you looked around the loft searching for Eddie.

From up here, you could see the bathroom door was open and the light was off…eliminating the only place he could actually be. And then your eyes fell on one of the windows that was cracked open with a short step-ladder built into the wall that had been pulled down in front of it.

You pulled your coat around you tighter the closer you got to the window and tentatively climbed the steps leading up to it. You pushed the large glass pane the rest of the way open and poked your head outside to find Eddie sitting on his terrace, resting with his back to the brick, head tipped back as he exhaled a cloud of smoke from his lips that drifted up towards the stars.

“Hey,” you said softly. His head turned at the sound and a wide smile spread across his lips.

“There she is,” he said in a gentle cheer.

You climbed through the window and a breeze carried the scent of the joint he was holding. You took a seat across from him, leaning back against the metal railing and letting your legs stretch out alongside his. He dropped his hand to rub your calf and he frowned at the realization you had redressed in your tights and boots. His brow furrowed adorably.

“Something wrong?” you asked.

He shook his head and took another drag of the joint before passing it into your waiting fingers.

“The clothes were for you,” he said. “Y’know, if you wanted something to sleep in.”

You paused, the joint just shy of touching your lips. “Like…if I was staying?”

“Would you stay?” he asked, a ribbon of smoke curling in the air as he exhaled.

Your mouth hung open, clouds of your hot breath escaping. “Oh, um…I mean, only if you—”

He cut you off with his lips, slipping his hand around the back of your neck and pulling you into a long kiss. Tiny embers scattered from the joint, being taken by the wind that blew and made the ends of Eddie’s long hair tickle the sides of your face. You pulled apart and he answered solidly.

“I want you to,” he said.

wasn't expecting this to be so long (that's what she said), but I hoped you liked it if you made it this far 🩷 love you, mean it!

[writingouthere]

singlemom!reader x neighbor!Sukuna. You and Sukuna have been dancing around each other for weeks, and when you tell him you've found another apartment for you and your daughter, he decides he's had enough.

cw: smut, breeding kink(heavy emphasis), Sukuna is a bad dude but you know that already. Your daughter's nickname is Bug but she's given no official birth name.

Sometimes, Sukuna remembered how much he felt like he would die if he didn't touch you back when he first met you. Now, he wanted to go back in time and punch himself in the fucking face because that him, that him did not know what it meant to suffer.

The past few weeks since the birthday party where he felt like you had finally, finally seen him had been the worst, but somehow best, weeks of Sukuna's life. On the surface, not much had changed. You still were crashing at his place, he continued to take on more and more caretaker duties with your daughter and the two of you were continuing this dance where you participated in the outline of what a relationship between the two of you could be but for some reason, you still seemed hesitant to embrace it completely.

Sukuna could be patient, he had been patient, but the fact that you two still weren't together when he was positive now it was what you both wanted, it was driving him insane.

You looked at him more than you did before and sometimes he would catch these quick glimpses of a desire that burned him, that made him want to show you just how much he had been wanting you. How he was never going to want anyone but you. But then, he would look again and you were back to feeding your daughter or cleaning a dish and just continuing with this facade where you were just crashing temporarily at his place.

Sukuna could feel the tension tighten across his back and shoulders as the three of you finished dinner. Your daughter was telling a story about something her and her "Uncle Uuji" had gotten up to when Sukuna's brother had been babysitting that afternoon, and you were smiling and giving the right "oohs" and "aahs" when you had looked over at him.

You looked so content and happy that Sukuna felt his shoulders relax in response. The waiting was killing him, but he reminded himself it was worth it, he was so close he could almost taste it. Soon, he wouldn't need to hold himself back and he could hold your hand and kiss you anytime he wanted, while his daughter monopolized the dinner conversation. You were both so clearly meant to be his and if he needed to give you some more time so you were comfortable, then he would give you more time.

Feeling at peace with his decision, Sukuna took the lead on bedtime duty that night. He read your daughter a story-"Do the voices 'kuna!" "I am doing the voices, kid"- and then tucked her in. He pressed a kiss to her forehead as she was struggled to keep her eyes open.

"Night, Bug."

"Night, 'kuna."

Sukuna finished tucking her in while you watched from the doorway. He was about to leave when the little girl grabbed his wrist.

"Love you."

Sukuna felt something catch in his throat and all the sudden he was a scared kid again holding a little Yuuji to his chest so the roaches that were all over the floor of their apartment didn't touch him. A fierce protectiveness lit up his chest and he promised to himself, for not the first time, that his little girl would never know experience any of that. It had taken him years to get Yuuji out of there, and Bug had already lived a few years without him, but she was home now and it was clear she knew that too.

"Love you too, Bug." He couldn't resist pressing one more kiss to your daughter's forehead but the kid was out like a light already. You moved aside so Sukuna could close the door, which he did very gently.

"Took her long enough tonight, huh? I think I'll still be able to recite 'Goodnight Moon' when her grandkids ask for it."

You don't smile and he knows you're aware he's joking about the time. There's a reason you're co-owning story time now, Sukuna isn't developing his voice actor repertoire for nothing.

He goes to put his hand on your shoulder but you move back a little as if you're trying to avoid his touch. Now he's concerned.

"You okay?"

You shake your head and gesture your head towards the living room. Sukuna follows, not appreciating the uncertainty he's feeling at your strange mood.

When you get to the living room, you hesitate and take a seat on the armchair. Usually, you only use it when you're reading or doing something on your laptop. Whenever you're together, you always share the couch with Sukuna and he notes the decision to distance yourself with distaste. He's sure the wariness shows on his face as he goes to sit on the side of the couch closest to you.

"Alright, what is it?"

You bite your lip and he's about to ask again, with less patience ,when you take a deep breath and begin. Your eyes trained down on your lap.

"I found an apartment for me and Bug. It's close to the daycare and it's a little smaller than we're used to, but it will work for now. A friend helped me find it and there isn't even a creepy landlord! I'm going to sign the lease Monday and we should be able to move in next weekend. So, I just wanted to thank you for everything."

Sukuna thinks he's stopped breathing and he feels a wave of anger so intense he can taste iron against the back of his teeth.

"You're leaving?"

You take another deep breath and nod while Sukuna's world continues to fall apart.

"I think it's time. You know, I appreciate everything you've done for me and bug. The past few months have been amazing and we never would have gotten through them without you."

Sukuna doesn't have it in him to let the pause you leave sit there long. "I keep telling you, you don't have to thank me. It's really fine. I like having you here."

You look down at your fingers where he sees it looks like you've been picking at them. He gets a bad feeling, worse than what he was already feeling.

"I know and that's-it's really nice, really."

"Great."

"But, I think it's starting to get confusing."

"Confusing? What's confusing?"

You go on, ignorant to, or ignoring the rage that's rising in him.

"It's just, when we were at that party a few weeks ago and everyone kept asking about us and if we were together, and about our situation, it's obvious that what we're doing isn't normal."

"Not normal, how?" Sukuna prompts and he's going to snap if you keep refusing to even look at him.

"You don't just crash with your neighbor for months on end because your apartment flooded. They don't help you with chores and spend all your time together. Neighbors don't babysit your daughter-"

"I like spending time with your daughter, that's not a favor I'm doing for either of you," Sukuna finally snaps, annoyed that the special moment he'd shared with Bug earlier was being overshadowed by you denying the relationship he'd been so careful about building with her. "I told you, I care about both of you and I don't give a fuck what other people think about our situation. I chose to let you both come and stay with me and I like the life we've built here."

You finally look up at that last part and your eyes are full of tears. Sukuna is able to hold back some of his anger at the sight of you in such clear distress.

"That's the thing, we're not building a life here, this is temporary and I think we've been forgetting that." A tear slides down your cheek. "A few days ago, Bug brought home a picture she drew in daycare. She drew the three of us as a family, Sukuna. She thinks you're going to be like her new dad and how am I going to explain to her that you're not going to be in her life when this is over? She barely understands what happened with her dad, I can't do that to her again."

Sukuna seethes. "Don't compare me to that piece of shit. He hasn't even tried to contact you or Bug since you moved in."

"Well, he's still her dad-"

"No, he fucking isn't," Sukuna is done and you're crying freely now and he doesn't understand where he went wrong with all of this. "In a few years, she won't even remember that bastard. I'll be the only father she's ever known because I'll be the one that's actually here."

You laugh a little and wipe at your face but it just exacerbates the mess. "What are you even talking about? You're her neighbor, Sukuna and when we move you won't even be that."

"Is that all I am to her? To you?"

"What else are you supposed to be?!"

Sukuna is so pissed, he doesn't know how he's going to recover from this. This is not what he wanted at all and here you were now-

Crying, you were crying.

The pieces started connecting and Sukuna realized that he wasn't being left. You weren't rejecting him or what he was to you or to your daughter. You were panicking. You were doing what you had been taught to do by everyone else in your life, to leave them before they could leave you.

You were right, after all. You were confused.

Sukuna was going to fix that.

You must have noticed the abrupt shift in Sukuna's mood because you seemed puzzled as Sukuna started to smile. You didn't have time to ask any questions before Sukuna stood up and walked over to your chair.

"Sukuna?"

"I see now, I wasn't clear with you. That must have been so frustrating, sweetheart."

You'd stopped crying in your bewilderment. "Sweetheart? Sukuna, what are you doing-"

Sukuna shushed you as he leaned you so you were face to face, his body almost shielding you from the rest of the room. You blinked a few times to adjust to the lack of light as he blocked everything else but himself from view.

"I'm going to help fix your confusion, sweetheart. You seem to think I've just been doing this all out of the kindness of my heart and I want to assure you, that's not the case," he says, leaning his forehead against yours. "See, I'm actually not that kind and if you were anyone else, I wouldn't have given you a place to stay, even with a brat."

"You don't mean that-"

"Yes, I really do. I don't help people, I don't give a fuck even whether they live or die. The only people I give a damn about are Yuuji, you and the kid and that's it. When I say I would have left anyone else to tough it out on the streets, I fucking mean it."

"You don't give yourself enough credit," you argue and Sukuna finds it adorable. "You're making it sound like-"

"Like what, princess?" Your breath hitches at that one and his grin turns predatory. "Oh you like that one, I'll keep that in mind princess." You gulp and he watches the way your throat moves and can't resist pressing a kiss to it.

"S-Sukuna-"

"No, no, go on princess, you were telling me what you thought the reason must be for me doing all these things. Go on, tell me your theory. You're a smart girl, I think you've figured it out."

"You like me," and the way you say it as almost a question is so endearing Sukuna can't hold back the trail of kisses he plants up your throat until he gets to your jaw.

"No, I don't like you princess." You seem to accept this and you're nodding, opening your mouth to probably say something stupid when Sukuna cuts you off. "Like isn't enough to describe the way I feel about you."

"Really?" You're so hesitant and sweet as Sukuna presses kisses up and down your tear stained cheeks. A new one slips down your cheek and he holds your face with both hands as he licks it up before it can fall all the way. You're almost panting now and he loves it.

"Trust me, I haven't gone to all this effort just for some lousy date or to get my dick wet." He leans back so he can see your face and cups your face so he can tilt it up to look at him.

"You're it for me, princess. This isn't temporary and I'm not going to let you go. Either of you."

"Sukuna, it's one thing to be interested in me but it's another to just-to just say you're going to parent my kid. I mean, she's a person you'd be tied to your whole life."

Sukuna hums, finding it cute how much you're still not grasping the situation. "All of your children will be mine, that includes Bug."

You laugh. "Children, plural?"

"Definitely plural." Sukuna looks your body up and down making his meaning clear and you seem determined to try to be the voice of reason as Sukuna goes back to kissing your cheeks, your temple, your forehead.

"We're not even dating, Sukuna."

"What do you call the past few months? We spend every day together, go everywhere together, we live together, we're raising your daughter together, what else do you need to know about me?"

"I'm wondering if there's in fact very important things I need to know about you." That's his smart girl and Sukuna finds the suspicion adorable, especially since it doesn't stop you from tilting your head so he can get to your neck.

"Well, you'll have the rest of our lives to get to know me," he nips at part of your collarbone that's exposed by your shirt and you hiss before gently pushing him away.

"Okay, this is nice."

That word again.

"But, just because you're interested in me and care about my daughter, that doesn't mean we should just jump into something. I still think the best thing would be for us to figure this out after Bug and I have our own place-"

"No."

You look confused, obviously thinking you misheard him.

"I'm sorry, you can't just say no, it doesn't work like that."

"But you can just decide to leave our home, with our daughter and for what? So we can do a worse version of what we've been doing? What purpose could that possibly serve?"

"Because this is too fast for me?"

"We already live together," Sukuna points out and knows this isn't the moment to mention he's the one who destroyed your apartment to make that happen.

"That doesn't mean we'll be good together."

"What exactly are you worried about? Do I not do my share of the chores?"

"No, that's fine."

"Do you not enjoy spending time with me?"

"Of course, I enjoy that," and he smiles smugly at that and pulls your arms gently so they loop around his neck.

"Do I not take of our daughter?"

You seem like you want to fight him on the 'our' but he goes back to kissing your neck and the way you tighten your grip lets him know you're getting distracted by the attention.

"She loves you," and that soothes the last bit of anger that had been present in Sukuna. Now, he was just ready to get started on the next part of your lives.

"Oh I see, so it's that I haven't been taking care of you? I'm so sorry for neglecting you. Don't worry, I can fix that right now."

Even if Sukuna kisses you a million times, he's never going to forget what it feels like to kiss you for the first time.

Your lips are soft and so warm. At first you don't react, your mouth still poised as if you're going to argue one last time, but then you're relaxing, leaning in and you give this sigh of relief and Sukuna knows you're hearing the same voice that he's hearing in his head.

This one.

Sukuna has long assumed that love and romance was nonsense shit for weak people who needed to find purpose. Sukuna wonders what it says about him that he thinks his purpose in life might have just been to find you.

You're kneeling on the chair now, Sukuna still hunched over so he can hold you. He's getting annoyed at the angle and how it's stopping him from feeling more of you and so he slides his hands down to your waist and pulls you up to him. With one hand on your hip, he uses his other to wind your right leg around him, you moving your left to follow suit. The new position has your core pressed up against where he's already half hard and you sigh into his mouth so beautifully, that he can't help but use the opportunity to explore your mouth.

It's hot and sloppy and so good that Sukuna moans and your legs tighten around his waist in response. The living room feels hot with every breath you exchange and he can hear the sounds you're making fill the space. Thinking about the child sleeping not nearly far enough away, Sukuna starts to walk you towards his room.

Even when he wants to be responsible and not have his first time with you interrupted by your daughter, he can't stop himself from pressing you up against the wall at least twice before you finally get to his room.

It's going to be your room now too, and he's so happy it disgusts him a little.

Sukuna has you pressed up against your door, one hand holding your waist and the other grabbing your ass so he can control the way you're rocking up to meet him. He angles you down a bit and you both moan at how the position lines you up to grind directly on his cock. There's too many layers separating you still, and it's that thought that pushes him to finally open the door.

He makes sure to lock the door behind you before he tosses you on his bed. On your bed. That's never going to get old.

He crawls over you and is back to kissing you into the mattress before you even have time to fully catch your breath. You're panting into his mouth and he nips at your top lip as you pull away to breath, catching it in his teeth. You don't need any prompting to spread your legs and he fits between them like he was meant to be there, letting his weight drop enough on you so you can feel him.

While he's excited to finally explore your body and see what he's been thinking about for months, he's having a hard time separating from you long enough to move any further than you are. Sukuna usually doesn't care much for kissing, but kissing you is different. He thinks he could kiss you all night even if his hard cock very much disagrees with that sentiment.

Fuck, if you kept grinding your cunt on him like you were, he may just come before he even gets inside you.

It's that thought that finally makes him get up on his knees to take his shirt off. You follow suit under him and he can't stop from kneeling down to kiss at your newly exposed skin. You're not wearing a bra and your tits are too perfect for him to ignore even for the sake of getting to your cunt.

These are the same tits that fed your child and will one day feed his and something about that gets to Sukuna in a way he hadn't ever really thought about before with other partners. It makes him softer, more gentle with his worship and you thread your fingers through his hair when he takes one of your nipples and sucks it gently in his mouth. He releases it so he can leave a few quick hickies around your chest. You're squirming so hard underneath him, he has to press you down with a thigh slotted between your legs to hold you still.

"Sukuna," you whine and he hushes you before leaving another mark under your collarbone.

"I'll get there, pretty girl. Just use my leg for now," he says continuing to leave marks wherever he can while you groan underneath him.

"I want you inside me," tempting but Sukuna is getting greedier the more desperate you are. Maybe if he fucks you hard enough, you'll stop thinking about stupid shit like needing your own apartment.

"I'll be inside you soon, I just want to taste a bit first. The way you are, I think humping my thigh will be enough to get you off," he teases and you whine, embarrassment clear in your voice. If you can still be embarrassed, more proof you're not ready for his cock in you. He presses against your cunt harder and he can feel the warmth of you on his thigh even through your leggings and his pants. He moves in a way more meant to tease than to provide you any relief and your frustration is clear when you start moving your hips to a faster, harder rhythm.

Sukuna smirks against your marked up throat when your whines start getting faster and closer together. You're still holding onto his shoulders when your grip tightens and you let out a gasp signaling your release.

Sukuna laughs meanly as you take in deep breaths, body still shaking from your orgasm. "Wow, someone was really pent up. No wonder you're having trouble thinking straight," he teases as he moves so he can take off his pants and boxers, giving his cock a quick stroke, drawing your hungry gaze down. "Don't worry, I got you. I'll give that tight cunt what it needs."

You pull him down so you can kiss him again and you're uncoordinated now, but Sukuna likes you better like this. Likes the proof that he's making you feel good. He presses down and your fingers scratch where his neck meets his scalp pulling out a moan that vibrates through his chest. He breaks off your kiss because he really does need to get inside you or he's going to come, and while the vision of you covered in his seed is a compelling one for another time, he plans on coming inside you first.

Sukuna pulls on your leggings until you get the hint and lift your legs so he can pull them off, leaving you in a pair of familiar blue panties. He laughs when he sees them and you come out of your daze a little bit, so he pulls them off too and tosses them aside so he can get to where you both want him.

Sukuna lightly touches your slit and smirks down at you when his fingers come away wet. Keeping eye contact with you he brings his fingers to his mouth and licks them clean and holds down your wrists with his free hand when you try to cover your face.

"All this just from my fucking thigh, just from some kissing. I'm starting to worry my cock might actually kill you."

You glare up at him and he grabs your leg as you try and kick him. "If you're so worried, maybe I should just leave then?"

Sukuna laughs and you gasp when he brings his fingers back down to you, slipping in two fingers to the knuckle. Your pussy is tight but you're so wet, he slides right in and he can't wait to get you on his cock. He brushes his thumb against your clit as he stretches you out, your voice leaving you in pants and gasps that are making him feel like a god.

"You're not going anywhere princess, not tonight, not on Monday, not next weekend," he moves so he's covering your body. His lips catching yours mid-moan. "When I'm done, you're going to be too tired to keep running from me."

He pulls his fingers out and you whine at the sudden emptiness but he keeps kissing you as he moves so his cock is touching your entrance. He moves it up and down, wetting himself in your slick. He cuts off your kiss so he can see your face, wants to look at you when he fucks into you for the first time. Finally getting some oxygen to your brain and the feeling of his cock pressing into you seems to bring your thinking back online.

"Wait, Sukuna, a condom," you say and he grins, not even pretending like he's thinking about it.

"We don't need a condom."

"Yes, we do, I'm not on birth control," you say and Sukuna has to tighten his grip on himself so he doesn't come.

"And?" He asks and he slips just the head in, you let out the cutest noise and your pussy clings to him as he pulls out.

"I-I could get pregnant, Sukuna!" He hums like he's actually thinking about as he presses in again, this time moving another inch into your tight cunt. It's teasing you both and he doesn't know how much longer he's going to be up for conversation as he pulls out only to thrust in, again just barely giving you his cock.

"Good, Bug wants a sibling. She was telling me how excited she'd be to be a big sister."

"Sukuna!"

"What? You don't think we'd make a cute kid? I think they'd be as beautiful and as brilliant as their mamma," Sukuna would take your protests more seriously if your pussy wasn't literally gushing. He could swear his balls were wet with your slick and you weren't even really fucking yet.

"This is a big commitment, Sukuna. It's not a joke."

"Good thing I'm not fucking joking then," Sukuna kisses you again and nothing beats the way you gasp into his mouth when his rubs the head of his cock against your clit. "You really want me to stop? Want me to go away? If you tell me you don't want my baby, that you don't want to be my little wife and grow our family, I'll go find a fucking condom. But I'm going to need you to tell me that. Make sure you're loud, princess. I'm a little distracted, right now."

You hesitate and Sukuna thinks he might actually have to try and figure out where he stashed his condoms, since he hadn't gotten laid in damn near six months when he feels your hands move to cup his face.

"And if I want that?"

Sukuna feels his heart skip a beat despite it all, your hands on his face feel just as intimate as all the rest, another way you continued to humble him.

"Want what, princess? Going to have to be more specific for me."

"All of it, the family, the baby, everything." You seem to be drawing on your courage and Sukuna is proud of you despite himself. "I want you, Sukuna."

Sukuna crashes his mouth into yours and you follow him willingly. He uses his hand to guide his cock into your cunt and you move your hips, greedy for him, as he slowly pushes in. When Sukuna is finally in all the way, he feels a warm contentment fall over him. Imagining this, it had always been defined by a frenzy that he finds absent in the actual event.

Maybe it's because you've finally acknowledged him and what he means in your life, but he doesn't feel desperate as he fucks into you slowly, his thrusts purposeful. He feels victorious. The satisfaction curls around his body and makes your lips sweeter, your hips fit even more right in his palms and your cunt wraps around him like it was molded to fit his cock. He doubts you were made for him, you were too good for that, but he had managed to get you anyway and you're recognition of his possession over you made him smile into your mouth.

He kept his pace slow, thrusting deep enough inside you each time that you couldn't stop the way your breath hitched at the feeling.

"Sukuna!"

"Yes, princess?"

"F-faster, please!"

"So polite, how could I say no," his voice is more breathless than he means it to be but he doesn't give a fuck. Not when your pussy is so sweet, or given the way you moan for him as he begins to pick up the pace. Sukuna loves the way you sound but he thinks of the little girl sleeping down the hall and he covers your mouth with his hand.

"Don't want to wake up our daughter, do we?" Something about that makes you tighten up and your eyes roll backwards and Sukuna thinks he knows what it is.

"Gotta make sure I can put this baby in you, right? You did so wonderful with the first one, I just got to see it happen again." You're moaning so loud Sukuna isn't sure his hand is doing much good, but you're both close enough he doesn't think about trying to stop you aside from a throw away thought about gagging you with your panties.

Oh well, thoughts for next time.

And the idea that there would be next times, that you were going to his to fuck anytime he wanted, had Sukuna reaching down to play with your clit. He could barely stand to pull out of you at all and at this point you two were more grinding than fucking but it was so good, you were so good-

"Come on princess, you're almost there. Be a good girl and come for me and I'll give you a baby, I promise. Just need to feel you come on my cock."

You bite his palm as he feels your cunt spasm and he only gets in another few thrusts before he's coming too and he hopes it takes. He presses his lips against your temple as you catch your breath and he continues to kiss your face as he feels himself soften inside of you.

Later, he'll clean the two of you up and finally get you under the covers. He'll get to hold you in his arms and feel what it's like to fall asleep with you. He'll also wake you up for another round so he can make sure Bug gets that little sibling he was now very excited to meet.

********

When Sukuna wakes up to you in his arms, he's debating waking you up for round three when he hears the sounds of sniffling and little footsteps outside. He gently moves your body off his arm and gives you a pillow to cuddle when your body turns to look for him. Your little pout in your sleep makes him feel bad for the trick but there's someone else who needs him right now.

Throwing on his pajamas, Sukuna makes his way out to the hallway, shutting the door behind him.

"Good morning, bug."

"Morning, 'kuna," your daughter is holding onto a little plush fox that Yuuji had won for her at an arcade a few weeks ago and she's still sniffling looking confused. He thinks he knows why.

"Your mom's asleep in my room, kiddo. She's okay, she's just sleeping."

"Why is she in there?"

This is a loaded question and Sukuna knows he should probably ask you on how you plan on introducing your relationship to your daughter, but he feels that same unsettled feeling when he looks at her sad face now that he had felt looking at your tears the night before.

Sukuna leans down and holds out his arms and Bug goes to him, trusting despite her confusion, and he picks her up and carries her to kitchen. He puts her down on the counter so she's as close to his eye level as she can get given her size and he decides to be honest with her.

"You know how I love your mom?" Bug nods her head and Sukuna feels warm. "Well she loves me too, so we decided we're going to share a room from now on."

"Forever?"

"Yeah kid, it's going to be forever."

"Can I sleep with you too?"

Sukuna smirks and then kisses her forehead. "Sometimes, but you're going to want to stay in your new big girl room I think. It's way cooler than the boring adult room."

"Big girl room?" Her eyes widen and there's a familiar gleam of ambition.

He's got her.

"Well now that it's your own room", and her eyes just get even bigger at that. "You're going to need all your own stuff to make it yours."

"All mine?"

"All yours, Bug. At least until you have a little brother or sister, you may have to share then. Would that be okay?"

"Yes!"

Bug jumps on the counter and then into Sukuna's arms and he holds her close to him as she burrows her face into his neck. He breathes in the smell of her hair and he's so relieved now that he knows she's going to stay here forever, that you both are.

"Does that mean we're going to stay with you?"

"Uh huh, you're stuck with me. I'm never leaving."

Bug pulls back and holds out her pinky finger. "Promise?"

"Yeah, kid, I promise."

Many, many years from now, at your thirtieth wedding anniversary, Bug will stand up and tell the story about the day Sukuna became her dad. Her mom, her siblings, her Uncle Yuuji and many attendees will cry, but Sukuna will maintain his dry eyes and his dignity.

Or that's what anyone should say when asked.

He'll still kill a motherfucker.

That's it, it's the end! I may return to this universe in little drabbles but the main story is done! As a fatherless daughter, ending it with Bug was very necessary to me. I also think a big part of this story is Sukuna finding fulfillment in the family he was denied growing up(projecting is the name of the game here).

Much love.

[soft4gguk]

yearning | jjk one shot

the one that finds you in Jungkook's doorstep after a night out...

Description: idol!jungkook x reader, fwb 

Content: porn with loads of plot!

Word Count: 7.5k

Warnings: oc smokes 1 cigarette lol, they’re so flirty ouch, so much kissing, cutest little dynamic, dry humping (a personal fave in this house), fingering, protected sex (they’re so smart!!), loads of spanking, jaykay ass man forever. 

Author’s Note: i once sworn to never write idol aus because… i know nothing about this man ok? i do not claim to know what he’s like in a relationship or a situationship or in his personal life!! so please thread carefully when reading <3333 that being said, his lives last year and these first couple of episodes of “are you sure?” have me feeling very delulu so here u go!! hope you enjoy xo

★ masterlist ★

This is a work of fiction. Please respect the members and their privacy. x

The moment you exit the club, a gust of summer breeze engulfs you. It makes you wrap your arms around your body, but it amounts to nothing, the little black dress that you’d made the executive decision to wear, in the name of fashion, betraying you. The tequila shots you'd downed before leaving the house sure had deceived your senses, too.

Needless to say, you regret said decision, a shiver running down your spine all the way to your legs, making you jump a little in place as you tipsily look around you. You’d cut the night short. Your friends had found another lonely pair they’d quickly gotten cozy with, leaving you to drink one too many gin & tonics all by yourself. You hadn’t minded it for the first two hours, enjoying the music, sparking conversation with the bartender from time to time and entertaining the occasional stranger. Eventually though, it became boring, predictable, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you feel a little shitty about yourself. 

It was all getting repetitive. Friday nights, the same faces, small talk, ice breakers. Even the strangers you met had a similar M.O., making it all seem predictable. It made it feel like a waste of self, more than a waste of time, and it ate at you in moments like these, where it was strange to feel lonely amongst a sea of people, unable to shake the feeling.

The bright city lights illuminate the night, lacing it with something livelier than your mood and you smile. At least the scenery is always pretty. Pretty places. You hear the laughter of a group of people that stand a couple of feet away from you, they seem happy in that genuine way that reflects in pure, unadulterated beauty. Pretty people. 

You think of him. 

It’s rather instant. Or perhaps instinctive. The very own butterfly effect of your thoughts because to you, he’s the prettiest of them all. He’d been since the very first day, and as you lose focus of the pretty sights the more you stare into the city lights with him on your mind, you can’t help but think nothing will ever stand close. 

A girl stands next to you, audibly shivering as she exits the club and the air greets her with the same fate it did you. She holds a cigarette between her red lips, the fire from her pink lighter shining on her red hair. It makes you crave one, too, rummaging through your bag for your own. You smile when you remember how he would tease you for smoking “the skinny kind” as he would call them. Calling you a bit of a snob, but all in lighthearted nature. After all, he could. He knew you enough to let your closeness turn into inside jokes, banter. 

Perhaps giving into a vice could prevent you from falling into another. 

“Can I borrow your lighter?” she smiles at you before she’s handing it over. Her nails are pink, too. 

The fire feels pleasant for all of five seconds, warm against your face as you take the first drag. You give into one instinct so as to distract yourself from the one that’s tugging at your heart and senses, begging you to make a reckless call. 

You check the time. 

2:32 A.M.

~

Jungkook scrolls through the endless list of channels aimlessly. Small snippets from whatever’s playing that he cuts short, not really giving it much thought. He settles on one, solely so he can stop putting exertion on his thumb and go back to leaning against his couch – fully relaxed. He sighs. On the screen, some drama he hasn’t gotten around to watching plays, and the story seems to be developing quickly. He doesn’t care for it, if he’s honest, simply content with the white noise it fills the room with. 

Bam leaves his dog house, standing right in front of him and they seem to start an unspoken staring contest. He smiles, patting the spot right next to him on the couch and the pup rushes to take the place excitedly. He gets cuddles and kisses simply for existing. For keeping him company – his presence giving Jungkook more peace than he’ll ever know. 

“Hey, Bam, should we, like, meet up in our next life as well? Perhaps I’ll be the dog in that one and you’ll be my owner.”

Bam simply stares and Jungkook swears if he could, he’d let out a deep sigh right now. This makes him laugh. 

“Hey, don’t be jumping of excitement at the idea, man.”

At this, he attacks. With kisses, that is – wet, sloppy kisses that have Jungkook giggling and pushing back, though it is no use, his dog is that determined to give him love.

“Alright, you win. Let’s go get a beer. For me, not for you. You’re still too young. One day, son.” His voice takes on a lower tone, imitating his father. Or maybe Yoongi’s, he can’t tell anymore. 

He retrieves a cold beer mug from his freezer and cracks the can open, nodding his head at the sound it makes, the fizziness bubbling up before he pours it in the cold glass. He takes a sip as he walks back to the couch, blissed out in leisure.

He doesn’t mind being alone, specially not on nights like this when sleep leaves him and everything but seems more tempting. He likes the way everything slows down at this time of day, the ease of it all. No one to see, no texts to reply to. As for what the world is concerned for, he’s asleep. It’s peaceful, just being. 

Plopping down on the couch, he rests against the pillows, making himself comfortable. He must’ve spoken too soon, he thinks, because it’s not thirty seconds after this that his phone buzzes on the coffee table in front of him. He ponders on the possibility of simply ignoring it, let it sit there, facing down. But something tells him he should check the message. It could be important, or not. The pull isn’t necessarily violent, just a quiet voice that tells him so, like a little nudge. He leans forward, setting his beer on the table before he’s taking a hold of his phone. 

He gets it now – the pull. 

From ___: jungkookie, u awake?

To ___: no

From ___: can I call?

He smiles – so fucking big he almost hates that he does, slightly flustered and embarrassed you have this quick of an effect on him. And before he can talk himself out of it, he calls you. 

~

Seeing his name flash on your phone screen does more to you than anything you’ve deemed exhilarating tonight. The simple prospect of hearing his voice rushes more excitement through your body than any of the mindless conversations you had this evening. Than any of the conversations you’ve had all week perhaps. You smile and there’s no doubt that he can hear it in your voice when you say,

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

There’s a moment of silence and you can hear the smile on his face, too. It’s warmth – he’s warmth, even far. How far is he, you wonder. Did you happen to demand of him at a bad time? Will the end of this call find you disappointed?

You cut to the chase. 

“What are you up to?”

There’s a pause and you can hear the way he sinks into his couch. “Can’t sleep so I’m having a beer and watching some TV with Bamie.”

He’s home and a giddy giggle escapes you. “Ahh,” you say.

“You? It sounds busy in there.”

“Yeah, I’m outside the club.”

“Fun night?”

“No.” You don’t lie, you never lie to him. Don’t have the need to, or the want to. Everything about Jungkook is comfort – the kind that welcomes. 

“Yeah, had a feeling. It’s not really your scene, is it?”

Your head leans to the side, eyes closing for a moment. He knows you in ways most people don’t, and it’s a simple remark but it gets to you. The fact that he doesn’t see you for the parts of you that feel the emptiest settles on your heart. It’s good, you think, to be seen by someone who observes.

“I want to see you.” There’s all the point in the world to be honest right now. 

“Come over. I’ll make you ramen.”

“Will you show me your cat?”

There’s a pause. You picture him smiling, biting his lip, running a hand through his hair. 

“Yeah, that too.”

~

You sway from side to side, a little drunkenly and a whole lot excited, as you stand in front of his door. It’s brief, but as you wait you make a little reflection on your emotions. What exactly do you feel right now? It’s been so long – probably not that long – but long enough to make you happier than usual to be seeing his face. Anyone else would make you nervous, and perhaps he does, too, if only a little. But it’s a different kind of nervous. It’s laced with sweetness, as opposed to anxiety. And the minute he opens his front door, it’s replaced by something sweeter. 

Yearning. 

He stands there, glasses and black sweatpants on, signature oversized shirt – something so very home about him. Your eyes widen as you take in his hair, it’s grown significantly, giving you a rough idea of when it was you last saw him. Two, three months ago. He looks good; rested, fresh, beautiful. You can smell him before you even touch him and it makes you smile. He returns it. 

Yeah – yearning. 

“I like your hair,” you say, because anything else would give you away. 

“Yeah?” he runs a hand through it. “I like you.”

“I like you, too.” Let it give you away, you think. Who cares?

“Alright, well- it was nice seeing you.” He says, closing the door in a too casual, yet dramatic manner and you laugh, simply standing there – a little flustered because, oh does it feel good when Jeon Jungkook flirts with you in that boyish, teasing way only he knows how. 

He doesn’t close the door all the way. Instead, he leaves it open far enough for you to see the way he peeks his head out, nose scrunch and toothy smile to signal just how proud he is of himself right now. 

“Come here,” he tells you, reaching his hand out from the little gap and pulling you closer as you yelp, squeezing through the nearly closed door. “I missed you.”

You’re in his arms again, and the moment he closes the door behind you, his lips are on yours. It’s a soft kiss, one that says I missed you because you know him well enough by now to understand the things he says with his lips, and his eyes. With his hands, too.

“Mm,-“ you don’t want to pull back to get your words out, so you don’t. “Me more.”

Jungkook was always a happy coincidence – or at least that’s what you told yourself in a futile attempt to tame the feelings down. But the truth was that being back in his arms felt like fate, in that gentle way that doesn’t come in a movie-like encounter or in some sort of catastrophe bringing you together. Just being here. Anywhere, with him, felt fateful. You opt to believe in angels right this second just to thank them. 

“How are you,” his hand cups your cheek, pecking your lips before you can answer. 

“Good- better now.” His kisses muffle your words and you think you could live with this interruption for the rest of your life. 

“Yeah, me too.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him closer as he circles his around your middle. You take him in, not one for big displays of affection yet this one you could never deny, could never not welcome. 

It’s a sweet moment but the pull turns hasty soon enough the more your lips become familiar with one another yet again. You run your fingers through his long hair, rejoicing in its softness and length. His hand travels down, slowly but a bit desperately, squeezing when they meet your ass. 

What has a promising ending is cut short by none other than your rumbling stomach. It’s rather loudly and you both hear it, laughing in the middle of the kiss you two seem to refuse parting from. 

“You hungry, baby?”

“You promised ramen. And something about a cat.” Your lips part and you look at him, a pretty smile on his equally pretty face. 

“Mm, yeah. I did. I’m all stocked up on ramen but the cat…,”

“I prefer Bamie anyways.” 

You leave his arms, a smile on your face as you walk towards his beloved child’s crate. The moment he sees you, he hesitates for a moment, not yet having Jungkook’s command to leave his space but he’s excited – you can even make up his little tail wagging from side to side. 

“Come here, baby.”

He runs to you and nearly tackles you, settling into the floor to give him the proper cuddles he deserves. He steps on you the way he did when he was a puppy, sitting down on your knees as you scratch under his ears. 

“No one’s allowed to tell him he’s grown up. He’s little forever.”

Jungkook laughs. “He’s Jiminie’s height.” 

You sneer at him, shaking your head at his joke. He stands there, staring at you with a fondness he reserves for certain things that bring him that kind of comfort that’s gotten rarer over the years. He’s grown up, matured and gotten real about a lot of things but not you.

Never you. 

You’re still the innocence he kissed you with that very first time and the little bit of fear it wouldn’t go further than that. You’re the excitement he had when it did. You’re the flirty teasing and the falling in trust, opening himself little by little. You’re still something he once dreamt about – he still does. You’re the thing he has and doesn’t at the same time. You’re you. 

Your loud giggles as Bam licks your cheek wake him up from his little daydream and he winces at the sloppy kisses he’s leaving. You don’t seem to mind though and he knows that if it were up to you, you’d stay there til dawn. No ramen, no cat. 

“Alright, alright. Daddy’s getting jealous now. You can’t have her all to yourself.”

Your cheeky smile tells him you’re up to no good. “Daddy, huh? Have we ever tried that?”

“What haven’t we tried?” He genuinely ponders on his own question. 

“Pegging!” You say, a little too quickly and excitedly for his liking. 

“Absolutely not.”

“Mean.”

“Come on, let’s feed you.”

You smile. “Okay, daddy.”

~

It’s a chaos in the kitchen in between distracting kisses and your tipsy antics, munching on Jungkook’s leftover fried chicken as you scavenger hunt his cupboards for anything that could satisfy your alcohol induced need for sweets and carbs. You’d begged for pancakes, but he didn’t have any honey, and what’s pancakes without honey, really? 

“Ramen. Enoki and spring onions.” He says, convincing himself more than he convinces you.

“Okayyyyy. Ramen, enoki- what else did you say?”

His thumb and pointer finger rest at his temples in mock exasperation, making you giggle. “Hey, why don’t you go shower? This’ll be ready when you’re done.”

“Will you be able to work a knife with the thought of me all wet and naked in your shower?” 

“I’ll get you wet and naked later. Go sober up. Quick, quick!”

You laugh, kissing his cheek loudly and ruffling his hair before you leave the kitchen, making your way to his bedroom with familiarity - like you’ve done it hundreds of times and perhaps you have if you were to count. 

You know where he keeps the towels, that it’s the left tap that opens the hot water, the way his soap smells and what brand of shampoo he uses. His face wash and moisturizer are familiar to you because it’s the same brand you use. You’d left them here once and never got the bottles back. He began purchasing them after they ran out. 

You put on the same black Carhartt shirt you always do. It feels and smells the same. It makes you yearn and when you miss him, you smile in the comfort of knowing he’s in the kitchen, probably eating ramen from the pot as you take your sweet time in the bathroom. 

All clean and cozy, his house always being the perfect temperature with the add on warmth that swarms your insides at knowing you’re with him, you make your way back to the kitchen. He’s reaching for bowls, back to you and your voice startles him when you say,

“Don’t get dishes dirty, let’s eat from the pot.”

He turns to you, a boyish smile forming on his lips at the sight of you in his comfy, oversized shirt. He’s seen you in it more times than he can count but it still makes his insides tingle. Butterflies, dare he say, is what the sight gives him. 

“You sure?”

“Aren’t you? Afraid of exchanging saliva?” You poke your tongue at him and he grabs your wrist, pulling you swiftly towards him. 

“Not the funnest way we’ve exchanged juices, but it’ll do for now.”

“Juices.” Your nose scrunches at his words.

“Mm.”

He kisses you, ramen getting cold in the pot as your lips make him forget all about his hunger in the first place. Your stomach doesn’t, though. Interrupting your heated little moment yet again. 

“Feed me.”

“On your knees, then.” He teases, lips still on yours. 

“That sounds more like a treat than a threat.”

He smiles, passing you the chopsticks. “I knew you’d say that.”

“Am I that predictable?”

“With me. Yes. Just me.”

His words are selfish, of this much he’s aware. He knows exclusivity is too much to ask for. He knows the baggage he comes with and the hesitation that shines through your eyes whenever you find yourselves slipping into comfort and familiarity a little too much. How he can almost tell he’s about to go a season without you, just by this comfort alone. But he can’t help but want you, all to himself. He can’t help but say you’re his even if he’s just saying it. And when the smile on your lips meet your eyes in an almost nostalgic way, he knows you feel the same. 

“Yeah. I am.”

“I am with you, too.”

“I’d say I tried to talk myself out of texting you tonight, but I’d be lying.” Your chopsticks play with the noodles, eyes not meeting his. 

“Why would you talk yourself out of texting me?”

You shrug. 

“Don’t.” His voice is firm and your eyes finally look at his. “I’m always- I always want to see you, ___.”

“I know, it’s just- you know.” You say, and he does. He knows what you mean and he’s glad you don’t voice it because he doesn’t think he can bear the words that would only add insult to injury to the way your gaze falls, that spark threatening to dim its light.

“Yeah,” he gets closer, but it’s almost careful. His thumb caresses your cheek and you lean into his touch. “But you’re here now. I want you here now. Come back to me.”

You stare into his big eyes, smiling at him not because your heart isn’t breaking but because you wouldn’t dare break his with the reality of the situation. So you lie, but it holds truth. “I’m always with you.” 

As you two eat, in bursts of comfortable silences and mindless yet meaningful conversations, you start to get used to him again. You’re too tired to fight it, and when you welcome it, it’s sweet. 

~

The pot is empty, your bellies full. You lean against the counter as he puts you to date, catches you up on what his life has looked like for the past two months or so. Trips to L.A., New York, photoshoots, late nights in the recording studio, music videos, long flights and a Calvin Klein campaign you shamelessly admit to swoon over every time you pass by it. He asks about you and you keep your updates mostly work related. Long flights, long meetings, long days. Short bursts of inspiration and even shorter waves of motivation. You omit to tell him about the things you’re maybe not so proud of. The partying, the drinking on a wednesday night, the way your friends don’t feel like your friends anymore, more like acquaintances that keep you around when they deem convenient. You think his words could help, provide comfort and advice, but at the same time you fear the reality of the situation could burst the bubble of bliss you find yourself in right this moment. 

So you talk. You catch up. You play friends for a while, feel real mature when he shares snippets of his life that involve other people, other girls. People in his radar, his line of work, the love interest in his music video. Jungkook does, too. Feels like perhaps he’s come a long way when you tell him about trips you’ve taken with friends, new restaurants you’ve tried, galas he knows you haven’t attended alone. It’s all fine, it’s good. Total control of your feelings as you take each other in. 

Bam interrupts him mid-sentence, a sleepy whine in half protest he lets out as he walks inside the kitchen. 

“Aw, Jungkook,” you coo, “he’s sleepy.”

“Time for bed, Bamie?” He smiles, reaching down to scratch under his ears. “I’ll be right back.” 

“I’ll be here.” 

You smile, well aware that he keeps his dog bed in a cozy room in his house, quite literally puts him to bed every night. It makes you think about how good of a dad he’ll make one day, how much love is stored inside of him, how he likes to be needed and shows affection through acts of service. Your smile drops a bit, a feeling taking over you that you don’t like but have grown used to over the years. 

You snap out of it, busying yourself as you begin to tidy up the kitchen, sliding his pink rubber gloves over your hands before you start washing the single pot, knife and chopsticks he’d used to make you dinner. It doesn’t take him long to be back, though, walking back inside the kitchen and smiling at the sight before him. You hum a song he can’t make up, hips shimmying to the beat as you scrub the pot. Your shirt rides up a little and he cocks his head to the side, smiling at the way your underwear peeks from underneath the fabric. A black and lacy thong that has him nodding his head in boyish satisfaction. 

“You don’t have to do that,” he tells you, making you jump in place a bit at the sound of his voice.

You turn around, bringing a gloved finger to your lips as you shush him before you’re pointing it at the couch and shooing him away. “I’ll only be a second. Wait for me there.”

“‘Kay, boss.” He army salutes you, turning around and walking back to the couch, sitting down and sinking further into the cushions, legs spreading as he scrolls through his phone, a bit impatiently, missing you even though you’re so close. 

And to Jungkook’s great fortune, he doesn’t have to wait for much longer. Wrapping it up in the kitchen, you give it one last glance to make sure it’s back to its pristine state before you’re making your way towards him. He looks up at you, throwing his phone to the side and following you with his eyes, smiling when you’re in front of him.

“Thank you for dinner,” you say, voice sweet and low, eyes a bit hazy.

“Come here.” He takes your hand in his, pulling you closer to him, bottom lip getting caught between his teeth as you throw your legs at either side of him, straddling him. 

“I needed this,” you admit.

“Me too,” he breathes. “I’m glad you called.”

You pout, eyes looking up for a second as you ponder. “You called me.”

He chuckles, not a single ounce of desire to deny you. “I’m glad I called.”

You giggle, arms wrapping around his neck and fingers getting lost in his long hair. His head draws back as your nails massage his scalp gently and he relaxes at your touch, goosebumps adorning his skin. His hands travel under your shirt, promptly finding your hips, waist, and then threatening to go higher but Jungkook wants to take his time tonight. He wants to stay in the sweet state of wanting you for a bit longer. When his eyes are back on yours, you kiss him. He sighs against your lips, bringing you closer to him by the waist, letting his tongue taste your bottom lip before he’s tasting your mouth. It’s slow, a bit sloppy and lazy, holds the quality of anything that happens in the middle of the night, when no one’s watching and time stills for the two of you. 

“Your skin is so soft,” he says, lips still on yours. 

“It’s your body lotion.” You roll your hips over his, smiling when you pull a low groan straight out of him. 

“Yeah,” he says, hands traveling down before he’s squeezing your ass, guiding your hips into his. “You smell like me. I like it.”

“I like it, too.” Your words get caught up in a moan as the outline of his cock parts your slit perfectly. 

You pull away a bit hesitantly, hands coming to rest at his shoulders as your hips pick up the pace. You go slow but sink deeper into him with every roll of your lips, eyes never parting from his as you take in the way his face starts to contort in pleasure, mouth parting slightly as his breathing grows heavier, little grunts leaving his lips with every push and pull. His hands travel back down to your hips, squeezing a little at the soft flesh, guiding them as you move over his cock. He’s so hard, can feel you through the layers, can bet on the fact that you’re wet and pulsing for him right now. 

“That feels good,” he sighs, gaze dropping as he rides your shirt up a bit at the front. His eyes fixate on the way the thin, lacy fabric of your panties bunches up every time you throw your hips back. 

“Brings back memories,” you say, voice a bit shaky when a particular roll of your hips has the tip of his cock hitting right against your clit. 

Jungkook smiles, mind hazy but perfectly able to picture the memories you refer to. “Mhm,” he sighs, so entrapped by the feeling he swears he can feel you pulse against him. He likes the way you consume his senses. The way everything around him stills and all he can think about is you. His hands squeeze at the flesh on your hips before he says, “turn around, baby.”

“‘Kay.”

Jungkook feels the loss of your warmth as you stand up before him once again, smiling at him before you’re turning around and sitting on his lap. You press your back to his chest, letting your head fall to his shoulder, your lips meeting his cheek in an open mouth kiss. His hands travel up your body, palms closing around your tits, thumbs playing with your nipples over the thick fabric of your shirt. You circle your hips, chasing the same friction from before but it’s not enough in this position. You bring your body forward, hands resting on his thighs as you throw your ass back at him, your pussy perfectly aligned on top of his cock, making you both moan at the same time. Jungkook’s gaze drops to your ass, enthralled by the way he feels, by the way you look. He rides your shirt up your back, exposes you to him and it only eggs you on, moving against his cock at the perfect rhythm. 

He hooks a finger down the side of your panties, letting it travel down, smiling lazily at the way you trap his knuckles between your pussy and his cock, moaning as you grind on them. He can feel how wet you are, dripping for him already even though he hasn’t touched you yet. “Want my fingers, baby?”

“Yes, please,” you plead, voice shaky as you look back at him. 

He’d usually tease you, make you beg for it a little longer, but tonight Jungkook obliges. It’s been long – too long – and all he can think about is being inside you, feeling you around him, making you feel good. He takes his time simply so he can savor the moment. So he can memorize it well enough to store it somewhere inside of him, just in case it’s another three months until he sees you again. 

He pushes his middle and ring finger inside of you, hissing at your warmth, cock jumping inside his sweatpants in anticipation and a little big of neglect. You close your eyes, pleasure taking over you as he begins to thrust his fingers inside of you slowly, arching expertly every time they hit your g-spot. His free hand squeezes around your ass cheek, groaning when the hand that fucks into you pushes down on his cock, aiding at giving him some much needed friction. You feel lightheaded already, all-consumed in his hold as he takes over your every sense. Your body relaxes and you can feel the way your tummy tenses right away. 

“Fuck, I think I’m gonna cum,” your voice is faint but he hears you well enough. 

“Already? That was fast, baby.” You don’t miss the cocky tone his words hint at. 

“Shut up and don’t stop,” you say, looking back at him playfully. 

You see the way he smiles at you before his gaze is dropping back down, fingers moving expertly inside of you at the same pace, applying a bit more force as he pushes in, massaging that spot with the tip of his fingers. The added pressure has you mewling in no time, nails digging into his thighs, teeth biting at your bottom lip to ground you back into the moment as you let go. 

“Fuck,” he says as he feels you cum around his fingers, sweet moans filling the space around you and he so badly wishes he could look at your face right now. “Yeah, baby, that’s it.” He feels the way you contract around him, hips circling over his hand as you ride the waves of pleasure. 

You come down after a minute, mind still hazy as you fall back into him, lips finding his the moment he turns his head to the side. You kiss him, breathing into his mouth, smiling in your fucked out bliss. “That was so good.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” you say, pressing your forehead to his. “I need you to fuck me now.”

“Want it?” he asks, and you nod your head. “You can have it.” 

“Yeah, want it so bad, Jungkook.” Your voice is needy, holds a dreaminess to it that Jungkook doesn’t miss – one that makes him melt into your words, your touch, your lips as you kiss him again. 

Jungkook presses his hips into you, raising them a bit as he pushes his sweatpants down. You help him take them off, hand reaching back before you’re wrapping it around his cock. He’s hard and pulsing for you and if you weren’t pulsing for him, too, you’d probably want him in your mouth right this second. He feels heavy, big and thick in your hold, a grunt leaving his lips when your thumb circles around the head. You love how sensitive he is, how receptive. 

“Condom,” he says, before he runs out of blood in his brain and it all falls down to his cock. 

“In my bag,” you say, reaching to the side and pulling it towards you. You rummage around it for a second too long – a second that has Jungkook’s mind betraying him. He shouldn’t. He knows he shouldn’t. But nonetheless he can’t help but wonder where you’d be right now if he’d been asleep and hadn’t seen your text. Perhaps in the same position but with a stranger. Or maybe a stranger only to Jungkook. Perhaps he hadn’t been the only person you texted tonight. “Here you go, baby.” 

Your voice dismantles his worries and he’s warm again, all thoughts vanishing and it’s back to you and him. He leans forward, kissing your lips as he takes the condom from your hand. It makes you blush slightly, biting your lip in anticipation as you watch as he rips the foil of the packaging with his teeth. You watch the way he smirks as he rolls the condom on. 

“Why are you smiling?”

“Just thinking,” he says, smile growing wider, cheek dimples making him look cute but something about his voice begs to differ. 

You hum. “Thinking about what?”

He smiles. “July 14th, 2021.”

You both crack up, laughter filling the air the moment the words leave his mouth because of course you know what July 14th, 2021 meant. You’d been in a position very similar to this one, perhaps a bit more hazy minded, the true meaning of the heat of the moment finding you the minute you’d realized neither of you had a condom. You’d looked into each other’s eyes and made the silent agreement to be a little reckless and put a whole lot of trust on birth control and Jungkook’s pull out game. 

He said he’d never forget that day. 

“Long live, July 14th, 2021,” you say. 

“Shhh,” he says, squinting his eyes and bringing a finger to his mouth. “Don’t remind me.”

“You reminded yourself,” you bite back. “Now, can you fuck me? Pretty please.”

“Yeah, baby, come here.”

You push your ass back at him, looking at him from over your shoulder, biting your lip in anticipation as he strokes his cock once, twice, before he’s lining himself against your entrance. His hand comes to your hip, pulling you down towards him as you push him inside of you. You both sigh, moaning as he bottoms out, so deep and warm it has Jungkook throwing his head back against the couch, sinking further into it and pushing impossibly deeper into you. 

“Fuck, Jungkook,” you whimper, nails digging into his flesh. 

“Fuck me, baby,” he says, running a hand through his long hair. You nod, circling your hips a couple of times as you adjust to his size before you start moving your hips into him, ass bouncing with every push and pull. He hisses at the sight alone, bringing his hand down as he delivers a hard slap against your cheek, making you moan. “Shit, just like that. You’re so hot, ___.”

“Jungkook,” you whisper.

“Yeah, baby?” His eyes are back on yours, threatening to close in pleasure at the way your pussy feels around him. 

“I missed you.”

“I missed you, baby. So much.”

You fall into his chest, kissing him as he wraps his hand around your throat, not applying any pressure, just simply holding you. You gasp into his mouth when his other hand travels down and finds your clit, drawing lazy circles against the sensitive bundle of nerves. You whine and he moans when you move your hips to the rhythm of his touch.

“I don’t wanna be on top anymore,” you say, pouting into his lips, frowning when you feel his chest shake in laughter. 

“Of course you don’t.”

“I’m an awful top.”

“You’re not a top.”

“Hey, I was a good top that one time,” you protest.

“Mm, yeah, that was hot. You got all bossy on me.”

“Oh, but that’s regardless,” you tell him, pushing your lips into his once more and straightening your back, smiling as you look back at him. He wipes said smile off your face in a second, hand meeting your ass in another hard slap. 

“Stay there,” he says, holding firmly onto your hips. 

“Okay, daddy.” That earns you another slap, though you can’t say it wasn’t exactly the goal in mind. 

“Behave.”

Your face grows pliant as you nod at him and Jungkook has to fight to keep up the front because if he’s being honest, the sight alone drives him crazy, threatens to break him down completely and leave him a needy, whiny mess. He holds you in place, legs raising you up a bit before he starts pistoling his hips against you, fucking you hard and fast and even though you saw it coming, it still takes you by surprise. The force of his thrusts, how good he feels as the pain translates into pleasure, the noises he makes – it’s all too much but fuck, you don’t want him to ever stop. Your mouth parts in a silent moan, eyes closing as your face contorts in pleasure before the sensation ripples through you and you’re crying out. Your hand holds onto his arm and the firm grasp you have on it let’s him know.

“Fuck, I’m cummin,” you breathe out.

“Fuck yeah, baby. Cum all over my cock.”

“Oh my God,” you say, voice shaky and faint as you throw your body back into his. 

“Fuck, I love your pussy.”

“I love your cock,” you say, fucked out giggles escaping your lips. 

It takes you both a minute to steady your breathing and regain your strength. Jungkook kisses your neck, snaking a hand inside your shirt and squeezing your boob as you arch your back at the feel. “Let’s get you to bed, princess.”

“Music to my ears,” you say, giddy and excited. 

Your knees buckle a bit when your feet touch the floor, the both of you laughing at your loss of balance, Jungkook a bit more cockily than you. He slaps your ass softly once, then twice as you begin to walk towards his bedroom. Once inside he takes his shirt off and when you turn around, your eyes scan over his body, metaphorically and possibly physically drooling over him. Your hands find the hem of your t-shirt before you’re pulling it off your body and tossing it aside until it’s landing on top of his. Your tits bounce as you do, and he nods his head at you, a satisfied pout adorning his lips. The pout turns sour the moment you turn around but is soon enough replaced with a smile when you start to crawl on top of his big mattress, finding the perfect spot over his pillows and laying down comfortably. 

“You’re so perfect.” Jungkook says, because anything else would downplay it and he’s not in the mood to run away from the truth. You giggle, soft and sweet and he feels the way his heart aches for you inside his chest. 

“Come to me,” you say, arms outstretched towards him. He makes his way to you, letting himself hover over you for a minute as he takes you in before he’s falling perfectly between your legs. You kiss him, letting your fingers get lost in his hair, breathing into the kiss and you swear this moment is laced in pure, unadulterated bliss. “Want to feel you inside me.”

“I’ll give it to you, baby. I’ll give you anything you want.”

There it is, yet again, and without a fail. It’s so common you nearly miss it – the way the moment turns tender. It’s mostly soft, this unspoken agreement you’ve fallen into with Jungkook. It’s friendship and attraction, good sex and years of exploring each other. It’s trust and communication. It’s understanding. It’s soft at the beginning and tender halfway through. It’s so tender it feels tangible, like the moment itself could fit inside the palm of your hand and feel ripe to the touch as you hold onto it. It’s tender when he looks into your eyes, it’s tender when his voice says your name, when you kiss his lips. It’s tender when the lust borders on something else. It’s tender when it lingers, when it threatens to fall. 

He fucks you, hips moving against yours slowly, pulling moans out of your lips that get caught between his own when he kisses you. 

“You feel so good,” you whisper into his mouth, words that only he could hear even if it weren’t just the two of you. 

“Fuck, baby, so do you,” he whines, supple and yours, even if for that moment. “I’m not gonna last much longer.”

You smile, hand running through his hair before your fingers are pushing a strand behind his hear. “Cum for me, Kookie. Wanna feel you cum for me.”

Your words throw him over the edge, falling blissfully into you. It feels so fucking good. Your fingers running through his hair, down his neck and then back up again. The way your pussy clenches around him, cock throbbing for you at the wake of his release. Your lips are soft and the rise and fall of your chest falls into perfect sync with his. His hand squeezes at your breast before it’s traveling down your body, squeezing at your thigh before you’re wrapping your legs around his waist, flushed to him. Every little thing you do heightens his senses until all he can breathe, think and feel is you. His face falls down the crook of your neck and you breathe out a moan into his ear, unraveling him completely.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, baby.” His hips slow down before they still completely, a moan passing his lips as he releases into the condom, your nails softly running down his spine. His body feels spent but he doesn’t miss the way it relaxes on top of you, blissful and peaceful, growing sleepy right away. 

“Feel good?” you ask, your fingertips running down his back in what feels like a feathery whisper. 

“So fucking good,” he mumbles against the skin of your shoulder before his eyes are finding yours again. He kisses you. He kisses you because in moments like this he wants to say something else, something that makes more sense to his heart than anything his brain could say.

You kiss him back, afraid your heart will betray you, too. 

~

You stare at him as you make your way back to his bed. He lays on his tummy, cheek pressed against the soft pillow, his pretty hair framing his face in a way that makes him look dreamlike. He doesn’t move an inch when you pull back the covers, if only for a second, to get back in bed with him. You lay on your side, eyes still fixed on him and your heart grows a new kind of tender at the sight of his sleeping form. He’s pouty and soft and so, so peaceful. Something sinks in your tummy, but it’s not in a way that signals bad news. Perhaps it’s the butterflies settling, perhaps the heat of the moment has began to cool down. 

Your hand comes to his face, fingers gently pushing his hair out of his eyes before you let them wander down his face. His cheeks are soft, his ears cold and when it tickles, he frowns. Your thumb travels up again, smoothing his brow bone and he relaxes. Your eyes follow your touch as you trace the bridge of his nose, slowly, softly, as if you were being quizzed on it later. Wanting to take everything in, afraid that even blinking could take away from the moment. And when your finger lands on his lips, you trace that too the way your own did only minutes prior. 

His eyes begin to flutter, a failed attempt to open them but you know he’s partially awake from the smile that pulls at his lips. You feel it on your finger before your eyes meet his gesture and when they do, you close them instinctively, leaning over and kissing him. His body can’t respond to his brain right now, exhausted and more asleep than he is awake, but he hums in satisfaction, lips puckering as he tries to give into his instincts. 

“Let’s have breakfast together tomorrow,” he mumbles against your lips. “I’ll go buy honey and make you pancakes.” 

You smile, though he can’t see, and perhaps it’s for the best. Your voice is a whisper when you say, “deal.”

His smile is the last thing you see before you fall asleep.

~

[visionsofmagic]

day 10: bruce wayne [car sex]

࿓ synopsis • bats fucks you in his batmobile to teach you a lesson after you disobey his order.

―❦ nsfw, autonomous driving, one has clothes on one hasn’t, suited!bats, batmobile, markings, car riding, possessiveness, jeaolusy, pet names, swearing, master kink, rude!bats, identity dilemma, inner toughts, spanking, begging, brat taming, clothes full on/off, kissing, ‘is all I guess. • 1.9k • thought comic bats while writing but you can imagine this with any version of batman as you like of course. enjoy the beginning of the second week of kinktober event, hope you will like this week too! [kinktober m.]

“bats – please –“ as the gotham’s city’s night lights pass behind the black windows of the batmobile you’re in, your own voice gets silent by the loud sound of the road, yet, they reach to his ears that are covered with his black batman mask. “it’s too much –“ 

the man under you stays still even when his actions don’t stop – fingering your clit, he seems like he doesn’t care about how you’re sitting on his lap, soaking onto his black bat suit, getting wetter each passing time – having no dress on you makes the situation more sinful, especially when he has his own armored suit on, even the mask is still covering his face and ears – his bat ears is a source of balance for you to hold onto while taking his fingers as if it’s the first time he does this.

you have no idea how this man makes you feel stranger to being fucked by him whenever he has you like this – weak yet so powerful because of the whole situation.

it should’ve been a peaceful night, a simple mission – yet, it turned into something more, and you were the one to blame the moment you began to flirt with one of the guests to distract him. you were doing what he told you to from the other line of the call, giving instructions one by one with the help of the device on your ear. it was going all right until the man got interested in you, buying you drinks, joking around, and asking if you would like to follow him to do upstairs. 

you didn’t yet you had to act close to the man to get rid of him because bats told you to leave his side immediately. your mistake was taking that decision; putting one of your hands on the man’s shoulder, raising on your feet, and whispering something into his ear before leaving. apparently, this made bruce go mad – causing him to give you a lesson that you had to learn right away.

the moment you entered the batmobile, he took you onto his lap, taking all your clothes from one to another, looking darker than ever – hands fast, lips kissing yours so passionately that you believe your lips begin to bleed, the suit remains on as he begins to finger you – he just opens the zipper of his armored pants, leaving his hardened cock visible to your eyes.

wanting to touch him, your hand goes to his cock, yet, it is stopped in mid-air. he doesn’t waste any more seconds, slapping your clit, he adds, “you had to earn it. you will not get it until you beg for it.”

now here you are; already cum for one time, its hints still on your thighs and his pants, however, he doesn’t stop – you know he waits for you to beg – you try not to beg, stubborn, believing you did nothing wrong, but, it’s too much – he knows every point to make you beg – the vigilante know your own body more than you do.

when he hits your g-spot with only his gloved fingers, again and again, you cry out loud, “bruuuce – aggh – please -!” the words go out of your parted lips on their own as your hands grip his bat ears strongly, bouncing on his fingers when he doesn’t move them. the knowledge of making a mess out of you doesn’t reach into your brain, so, you continue fucking his fingers – his dark-colored eyes look up, a smirk position on his attractive masked face, mocking you. “please! I need youu – aggh!”

“pathetic,” he remarks, “bouncing on my fingers as if they’re my dick,” a chuckle breaks the lewd sounds – the outworld out of the batmobile is long forgotten. “want it so much? want me to bend you over, fuck you in this car?”

without thinking, you nod rapidly, eyes half-closed, your second cum drips onto his fingers, high hits the body, feeling a bit exhausted yet ready to take his thick cock now. 

your mind can’t comprehend what he’s doing but in a moment you find him lowering his seat, opening enough gap between your bodies and the batmobile’s front. 

afraid of falling into the surface, you try to hold his shoulders – still can’t believe you fucked yourself on his fingers and cum onto them when he talked dirty. the power – the effect he has on you is incredible! the mind is so dizzy because of him that you realize what he has done after a moment, your widening eyes look at the front mirrors of the car, seeing the road in front of you – the scene changes faster than you think – you swear the car moves like a lightning. 

the reality hits your face similar to the feeling of cold water washing your body over on a hot day. however, you can’t focus on it when bruce’s gloved and wet hands position on your waist, highering your ass up, pulling your body closer to his face.

when you hold onto the wheel to stay still, excitement and shock blurring the last cramps of your mind, fear of going in an extremely fast batmobile makes your blood boil – yet the trust you have for bruce is there, strongly holding you. his low voice reaches your ears after a while, and his hot breaths wash your pussy and ass holes that clench around nothing, making you jump in pure pleasure. “you disappointed me,” he says, “you disobeyed a direct order from me. that man meant nothin’ to me but disobeying – oh – what a bad choice y/n.”

you couldn’t wait any longer, knowing his one step away from licking you, lust takes control of you, and you begin to say how sorry you’re – how you didn’t mean to – both you and bruce know you did mean to, to get his attention, to get this side of him, because you’re a brat of him who he will tame.

“keep your begs for forgiveness for later. you have to prove to me that you’re capable of obeying me, you pretty brat.”

“anything, I will do anything for you bru -!” a slap to the ass, a slap to the pussy – scream escapes from your lips. “bats! just give me an order, will do it – just please – please fuck me already!”

“in that case,” he says, not licking you, making you pout in disappointment but when he lowers down your body, his cock’s tip meets with your aching pussy’s folds, he clicks a button, the engine slows down a little bit, the wheel of the car gets closer to you. “hold the wheel.”

you try to understand what’s going on, “what are you doin – aggh!”

his left-hand grips your neck, holding it tightly, closing the gap between your face and his, he points to the wheel that stands right in front of you. “hold the fucking wheel if you want to be fucked, y/n.”

swearing lowly, your shaking hand finds the wheel, holding it strongly, waiting for bruce to push a button – when he does, the engine starts moving faster than before. unlike the previous situation, this time, it’s you who drives the batmobile.

“bruce – how – “ your words are cut off by his deep voice.

“don’t take your eyes off the road. you will take us to the home without an accident. if you turn even a little bit, I will stop fucking you my love.” the difference in his words and voice make you go crazy, and that craziness doubles up when he lowers your body down enough to make him thrust his thick cock into your pussy, filling you up.

screaming with sudden pain and pleasure, your eyes roll over for a second before looking right at the road in front of you – gotham city still stays under the darkness of the night, the only voice that world excepts is the powerful sound of the batmobile riding on the endless looking road, the moans coming from you and swears from bats mixing with the flesh hitting the flesh can be heard by only you and bruce – the sin you commit cannot be known by another.

the focus you put on the road gets distracted whenever bruce shoves his dick into your wet clit. back of your thighs hitting his clothed thighs sends pain through your body, leaving red marks on your flesh – the balls that meet with your ass cheeks increase the sensitivity you have, making you cry as you clean them rapidly to see the road.

his name comes out of you over and over again, the brain is too occupied to drive, the mind is too crazy to function, and the body is too full of him, the man who wants to devour you, and doing it right now – using your body as he pleases, not moving his hips greatly, instead, he makes use of your body by lifting it up, then, pulling it down until his dick fills your walls deeper, harder and rougher.

“fucking brat,” he says, a poison that his voice holds captures you – you feel so pathetic as if you’re his fucktoy now. then why do you feel so high like the most powerful drug in the whole world gets into your veins with the maximum level, you ask yourself, then the answer travels to your mind after he adds, “can’t obey her master? what a pretty yet mindless girl you are, don’t you think?” oh, right, he’s the most powerful drug on the whole world, and now, you’re at his mercy.

“u-huh – agghh – oh myy – bats! please, please, please –“ you have no idea what you’re pleasing for, but he knows – he chuckles lowly, having fuck great entertainment thanks to you that you feel a kind of pride in an instant.

“u-huh?” he mocks, fucks you still, close to the edge, just waiting for the right moment. “too cockdumbed to even understand what I’m saying. but you do good my good girl, keep going, we’re close to the cave.”

the new information makes you happy, smiling widely, and looking outside clearly, seeing the cave’s entering. with the relief, you begin to drive the car more carefully than before, hands getting stronger, losing yourself in the pleasure of being fucked by bruce in his damn batmobile.

finally reaching your destination, you slow down the engine, the cave’s front door opens, and pushing a button, bruce hugs you from behind, making you sit down on his cock with an instantaneous speed, earning the loudest moan out of you.

the mouth standing beside your ear says, “cum. cum on my cock.” and you who doesn’t know she’s waiting for him to allow her – to order, do what he tells, cum on his cock as his hot semen hit the deep inside of you in sync.

kissing your shoulder, he holds your shaking body because of both the coldness of the cave you have entered and the opposite sense of warmness that bruce gives – the smell of highness on the air, chests getting up and down, breaths rapid and low, lust ends – its place gets completed with the affection of love.

“did so good,” the car’s door opens, bruce takes your body in bridal style after wrapping it with his cape. his gentle lips put kisses on your face as he walks into the bathroom of his room, watching your soft features, eyes closed to sleep. he smiles fondly, proud of you. “let me take care of my pretty girl now.”

❦ tagging: @lilvampirina & @snowprincesa1 & @dookiemeshibear *lots of kisses!*

[sixosix]

religion's in your lips

third year to timeskip!hinata x fem!reader, a tad suggestive

It’s Shoyo’s fault.

You don’t join Shoyo’s outings often; most of them are volleyball-related anyway, and you didn’t want to get in the way. But right now, it’s just the third years, and Shoyo had begged so sweetly with round eyes that you would be cruel to even think about denying him.

Kageyama sits on your other side, stiff and polite, jostled here and there by Shoyo pressing up against you. Tsukishima, Yamaguchi, and Yachi sit on the other side of the table. Conversation is light and comfortable. They don’t exclude you even when talking about practice matches and lineups—Yamaguchi asks you about your own club ever so often, too.

Yamaguchi claps his hand, forcing everyone’s attention on him. Except Shoyo, who’s busy tracing stars on your hand. “Do you guys want to watch a movie this weekend? I heard they’re releasing a sequel of the one we watched back in first year.”

Yachi emits a wordless sound of excitement, easily agreeing. Kageyama and Tsukishima begrudgingly agree at the same time, then sneer at each other. Then they all turn to you and Shoyo.

Shoyo grins. “Sorry, I got plans already.”

“You get a girlfriend, and suddenly you forget about us,” Yamaguchi mourns. Shoyo laughs while you get flustered and assure them that you’re not keeping your boyfriend hostage. Kageyama says that they know Hinata is the one doing it.

“You’re going to watch our match next week, though, right?” Shoyo asks you in a low whisper, as the other three dutifully settle in their own world.

“You don’t even need to ask, Shoyo,” you tell him. “Of course.”

Shoyo’s eyes brighten impossibly, face split into a grin. He looks like he wants to push you down onto the floor to kiss you in front of his friends, but he doesn’t. You knew he wouldn’t.

It’s Shoyo’s fault.

Really. Seriously this time. Specifically, Hinata Shoyo from third year. He’s changed from first year, gained more confidence, but he’s still shy and soft-spoken with you, which you expected from someone as sweet as him. It set your expectations for him and what your relationship would look like in the years and years that you’ll spend with him: bearing that first love kind of shyness.

It takes about two years to prove you wrong.

When Shoyo came back from Brazil, the first thing he did was kiss you breathless in front of everyone in the airport.

His strong arms around your waist, pulling you up—which you had to think ‘thank God’ for because your knees have definitely buckled. You don’t think too much about it, because he’s been gone for two years—two!!—and you’ve missed each other too much.

But when Hinata’s mouth descends to your jaw, you have to push him by the chest and exclaim (albeit weakly), “Shoyo—there are still people behind us!”

Shoyo blinks and pulls off, his eyes fogged over with heat that makes you have to look away, having to remind yourself that you’re in public and you do not want to beg for him to continue. Thankfully, his friends yelling his name seems to have snapped him out of it.

But his palm never left your side, splayed over your hip like a mark.

It gets worse at his homecoming party thrown by his teammates back at Karasuno. You’re familiar with them, and they’re familiar with you, so of course, it wasn’t a problem when Shoyo was pulled away to greet everyone. You made friendly conversation with Sugawara-san, caught up with Nishinoya, and joked around all night with Yamaguchi and Tsukishima.

“You called each other every night?” Yamaguchi’s brows have shot up all the way to his hairline.

You smile. “I mean—isn’t it normal for people in a relationship?”

Tsukishima shrugs. “Hinata loves you as much as he loves volleyball, I’m not surprised.”

Yamaguchi considers it. “Hmm, I guess.”

“Hinata’s waiting for you,” Kageyama mutters from behind you, appearing out of nowhere. His brows are stitched together, and his mouth is pulled in his ever-permanent Kageyama pout. “His staring is pissing me off. Can you go get him?”

“He’s not a dog, Tobio,” you chide lightly but grin all the same when you turn to your side and see Hinata Shoyo’s eyes drilling holes into your head.

He’s not mouthing anything. Shoyo stays seated on the loveseat, looking entirely isolated from the crowd around him. His eyes say it all: come here.

Helpless to his whims, you obey.

“Shoyo,” you murmur as soon as you reach him.

He pulls you to his lap. “Baby.”

You freeze. He’s never called you that before—his expression isn’t shy at all, too, just expectant. Heat crawls down your body as he tugs your back to his chest, resting his chin on your shoulder. Shoyo’s own warmth is a burning sensation. You feel lightheaded.

“Ah—well, um.” You pinch your arm. “Are you feeling okay? Did you drink?”

“There’s no alcohol here.”

“I’m pretty sure I saw Sugawara-san holding a bottle.”

“Ah, well. Sugawara-san.”

You understand. What you don’t understand is what happened in those two years to have Shoyo’s hand crawling on your thigh, a scorching mark on only that part of your skin. To have Shoyo’s breath on the nape of your neck without him flushing and flinching away. To have Shoyo have this air of confidence around him that’s usually in volleyball suddenly translate to you.

“Did you miss me this much?”

“You have no idea, don’t you?” The implications are clear: I could show you how much, if you want.

Still, this development is very sudden. You squirm on his lap, but Shoyo doesn’t relent. He keeps you there, a puddle in his hands. Nobody is watching—or maybe they’re just being respectful, but you feel flustered facing this side of Shoyo in public.

“Shoyo,” you warn. “Not here.”

It’s Heitor’s fault.

Ever since Hinata had met Heitor and Nice and witnessed how unapologetically intimate they were with each other, Hinata became envious. He wanted that, too. He wanted that with you.

“Well, why wouldn’t you?” Heitor asked when Hinata lamented to him.

Hinata made a pitiful noise, like a deflating balloon. “I don’t know. I think she just thinks I’m too cute to take that seriously.”

Heitor laughs. “Shoyo. Trust me. You’ll drive your girl crazy if you’re confident with it.”

It’s Heitor’s fault, and Hinata is eternally grateful for it, seeing your wide-eyed face beneath him like this. He loves it when he surprises people, but yours might be a different kind of thrill that he’s already addicted to.

[peachpitfics]

Cruel Summer

Fandom: Bridgerton

Summary: Following your romp with Benedict Bridgerton in his art studio, he asked your brother for your hand! Now you're on your honeymoon, and you're getting a little bored, posing for him. A lady must find ways to amuse herself!

Length: 2.1k

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

Content Warnings: Oral sex (male receiving), Penetrative vaginal sex, unprotected sex, light bondage, food play.

a/n: This is an anonymous request for a continuation of 'Guilty as Sin'.

Bridgerton master list (tag list)

Benedict Bridgerton escorting you to view his artwork, at his private studio, was just the beginning of your story. After sneaking around behind your family’s backs for a small while, Benedict gathered enough courage to ask your eldest brother’s permission for your hand. This seemed strange to the y/l/n family, not one of them had ever seen the two of you together, which showed how much attention was paid to the middle child. Benedict made sure to ask you in the Bridgerton drawing room, just before family tea, for everyone to see. He made such a big to-do, confessing his love to you, before every member of the Bridgerton family in attendance. It felt particularly safe there, amongst people who took interest in who you were as a person.

It was bittersweet to have siblings who offered their time, their attentions, and their hobbies freely. You learned so many new things from each of them, from pall-mall, to sewing, even horse riding.  In six months, you were married and moved into the Bridgerton house for the meantime, until after your honeymoon. You would never outright tell Benedict you did not want to move out, but he felt it, he knew.

“My love” Benedict whispered, shaking your shoulders gently. Honeymooning in Paris was something the two of you had instantly agreed upon. So far, two weeks of sleeping late, making love, and eating copious amounts of divine food was your only concern. Of course, there were a lot of other lovely things Benedict had planned for your honeymoon – river boat rides and romantic dinners, every moment between locations filled with fine bread, wine, and cheese.

“Yes, my love?” You grumbled, rolling away from him, clearly having not had enough sleep.

“You must wake up, it is midafternoon!” Benedict exclaimed with a chesty laugh, rolling you back into him and tickling your sides. You howled with laughter, pushing him away playfully, leaning up to distract him as only you knew how. His lips were warm and wet against your own, seductive, and luscious.

“You must come downstairs! The housekeeper has left us a feast and I wish to paint my gorgeous wife” Benedict slid his hands around your naked body, lifting you out of bed as you groaned.

“Again?!” “My darling, I’ll be painting you until death takes me” Benedict chuffed, sliding sideways between doorways and down the stairs to the sitting room.

“What if death takes me first?” You smirked back, figuring you had him cornered here.

“I have made God promise I am to go first. And even so, I’ll have every detail committed to memory and these paintings and sketches of you now to keep me company” Benedict squeezed you in his arms, he didn’t like to joke about parting ways, in any sense. It was his truest nightmare, his deepest fear.

Benedict set you down in the sitting room and gestured to what he and the house keeping staff had readied. Paint, canvas, a staging area - littered around the room were bowls of fresh fruit, bottles of wine, candles surrounded by plates of cheese, oil, and bread. You relaxed back against his chest, his arms wrapping around you, cupping your breasts sweetly. You giggle a little, planting a soft kiss on his cheek. He nodded to your position for the rest of the day, a chair with the back faced to a very high window, casting a streak of sunlight down upon the spot.

There you sat, for hardly an hour before your mind began to wander, circling Benedict in your mind like a shark in open water. You had learned to become comfortable being nude for long periods of time these days, however Benedict had learned nothing of your persuasion or power when your attentions were dashed. Your movements started slowly, daintily taking your hands to your knees, and spreading your legs wide upon the chair. Resting a little, relaxing your back and cupping your own breasts. Your fingers gently grazing your nipples. But nothing, no attention from your husband. He sat close to his canvas, squinting into the detail of his work, his realm of perception clearly inhibited. With a huff and a light moan, you continued to palm at your own breasts, fingers trapping your nipples in a pulling motion- you decided to pretend Benedict wasn’t here. Suddenly, taking notice, you watched as his brush left the canvas, his mouth hung open a little and he removed his glasses, almost tossing them to the floor.

“What are you doing, darling?” He mumbled, swallowing hard. Your hands ran down your mid-section, over your belly and down your thighs sensually, soft mewls slipped from between your lips. Benedict loved the sounds you made.

“I’m just amusing myself, continue on with your painting my dear” Your replying comment was nonchalant in the best way. Benedict almost looked offended that you would suggest he could go back to painting.

“How do you suppose I paint, while my wife ravages her own body before me?” He blinked at the audacity of you.

“Well, dear one, this is what you have chosen for this afternoon’s activities… Now, you must endure” You smiled, sliding your hand between your legs, dipping your finger in the wet warmth there. Benedict shuddered, wishing any part of him were exchanged with your finger.

If there was anything you had learned about Benedict in the last six or seven months, it was that his desire for you was consistent and all encompassing. Benedict watched on as your fingers circled your clitoris, you moaned and exhaled gently - his paint brush never did return to the canvas. Beads of sweat formed on his brow line, the hot, French summer finally taking its toll in the late afternoon. You reached to the small stool next to you, extracting the tiniest jar of honey. You looked into Benedict’s eyes, holding the jar above your body, dangling your head back and pouring a steady stream of honey over your chest. The sun glistened, reflecting little pools of light off your sticky, sweet skin.

Taking your finger, you swept up your belly from your navel, placing your finger on your tongue in clear view of him, and that was his very last straw. Benedict threw his paintbrush to the ground, thrusting himself up and out of his chair, to march across the room to you.

“What do you think you are doing, wife?” Benedict’s voice rasped, his eyes were so dark, the colour had all but gone.

“Playing, my love” You replied cheekily, sucking another nip of honey off your finger. He all but growled watching your finger slip between your lips, his breath quickening in sheer lust for you.

“Are you punishing me for getting you out of bed?” Benedict’s face was so close now, his nose tip to tip with yours. There was such tension in his jaw, his teeth clenched hard in his fierce need of you. You fluttered your lashes back at him, refusing to answer with your words.

“Do you have even a semblance of an understanding of what you are doing to me? This is unbelievably cruel,” He breathed heavily down on you, desperation flooding his body and adrenaline surging behind, “You can’t begin to imagine the things I want to do to you right now” His stubble gliding across your ear and cheek, making you shudder.

“Show me then,” You challenged, “You are my husband after all”.

Benedict’s hands slowly moved to his shirt, shedding it, and throwing it somewhere behind him. He acted with a sureness and a strength you hadn’t yet experienced, but it was drawing you in. Undoing his pants, Benedict took his hard member into his hands, stroking himself against your chest, lathering it in honey. His other hand wove into your hair, tangling the perfect hold, bringing you forward.

“Oh. Goodness. Seems I’ve made quite a mess of myself… Wife, help me clean it up” He smiled smugly down at you.

 Something feral, untamed, was unleashed inside you, your eyes darkening, “Certainly, my lord”. As your tongue reached out to meet his tip, his head lulled back in pleasure, his hand still wrapped around the base of him. Your lips parted slowly, encasing his first inch, and swirling your tongue around to suck the honey from him. Benedict exhaled headily, his breaths deep, but quick with the slightest grunt mixed in. The way he sounded, even now, made you wetter and wetter.

There was something maliciously keen in Benedict’s eyes as he watched from on high, your pretty mouth sucking all the honey off him and then some. His body gently rocked forward, his hand heaving your head forward, onto him in a more perverse manner. His head hung back in greedy caution, grasping to the very last straws of his gentlemanly nature as you sunk to the base of him, your tongue wriggling slyly underneath.

His fingers grew taut in your hair, reefing you backwards. His laugh was low, both impressed and challenged by your ministrations. In the next moment, Benedict had hauled you up and over his shoulder, he was charging up the stairs, mad with temerity.

Entering the bedroom, he threw you down on the bed, scrambling for any piece of material in reach, he began ripping. Four pieces of silk fabrics in his hands, he loomed over you in profound ownership. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip, Benedict taking each wrist and ankle, tying them to each to their respective corner post of the bed.

“There” He stood, hands on his hips, proud of his work, “There’ll be no more of that”. Clearly touching yourself had had a dire effect on Benedict’s work ethic.

Kneeling between your thighs, his naked body unjustly out of reach, Benedict’s supercilious smile sick with goofy dominance. He thumbs over your folds, his finger descending, extorting whines of pleasure you never knew existed within you. Broad strokes of the most painful, unapologetically evil gratification. Benedict’s tongue flicked over his lips hungrily.

“I need you” The words escaped you violently, the thrill of his touch, his charming smile becoming all too much for you. He ignored you and continued another moment or two, reducing you to a begging mess beneath him.

“Shall I oblige you, my marvellous bride?” His grin was jubilant and all knowing, his hands came down on your wrists, pressing them into the bed. Benedict’s brutal, familiar kiss sown into your lips permanently, as he pushed inside of you with surprise.

“Y/n” He groaned, growled with unrepentant lust. Your eyes cast wide, the length of him stretching you mercilessly while he thrust in and out. His villainous face claiming your entire consciousness as he used your body to his pleasure, decadent facial expressions, and damnable sounds he was delivering straight to your right ear.

“You feel unimaginably perfect” Benedict groaned, your moans joining in alongside his.

Hands grasping for silk to hold onto, you longed for your own release, grinding your hips back against Benedict’s. His movements became more ferocious, keeping up with the sounds you were making. Frenetic energy began to move through your body, your ravenous thirst for him finally quenched. Every muscle in your body engaged in vivid contortion, Benedict pressing into you as deeply as he possibly could before his own body found its own powerful release.

Covered in sweat and honey, you laid tangled together for a moment before Benedict recalled your wrists and ankles were tied. He chuckled with giddiness, sitting up to admire his knots.

“You look fantastic like this, perhaps we should do this more often” He suggested sweetly. His thumb caressed the side of your face, your panting, tired body unable to give a response. Benedict littered your face and neck with loving pecks.

“We could be one person and I still would never be close enough to you. No amount of time with you will ever satisfy me. You are the centre of my world” Benedict whispered gently. Every day you were reminded of the intoxicants his poetic mind dabbled into every sweet thing he said to you.

In another instant, Benedict had sprung from the bed, running downstairs. You laughed, thinking he must be returning with some of the food the housekeeper had left strewn about his romantically planned afternoon. Instead, Benedict returned with a new canvas and his implements. Your mouth fell open all on its own, blinking furiously in his direction as he set himself up off the side of the bed.

“If you could just stay there, like that, that’d be great!” Benedict’s grin, excruciatingly exquisite, and concocting. He held himself with such pride in his agendum, cockiness seemed to fill the room in a potent manner.

“BENEDICT!?” You squealed, tugging frantically on his bindings, your laughter filled with rich resolve.

--------------------

tagging: @cringycat24 // @blckbarbiedoll // @freyagallileaevans // @junkie05 // @rosabeetroot // @flamewriterr //

If you'd like to be added to this tag list, please let me know!

[thestarsarebrightertonight]

dreaming of saturn // theodore nott x fem reader

playlist : saturn - sza

summary: theodore nott seems so out of reach to most people yet you have him right in your arms.

y/n used, established relationship , FLUFF

masterlist

"theo , get off me i need to get something from my dorm!" you pleaded as the boy with his head laying on your lap simply crossed his arms and shook his head.

"im not gonna let you go." he stated simply , nustling further into you.

"theodore. theodore! please im really cold i need to go get a hoodie from my dorm," you begged as the boy opened his eyes and perked up.

you stared in confusion at his reaction before he sat up slightly and slipped his slytherin hoodie off, handing it you with a happy smile. you almost melted at the sight.

"thanks theo" you smiled at him with a light blush before putting it on and allowing the boy to rest back onto you.

"it looks better on you anyways , keep it." he winked at you with a grin before closing his eyes again.

you admired him carefully , moving your hand to run through his hair softly , theo leaning into your touch with a blissful smile.

"whats your favourite planet theo?" you asked in a hushed tone as the boys eyebrows furrowed in confusion , his eyes opening to look up at you.

"why?"

"you take astronomy right? you know more about the planets than me. so which is your favourite and why? im just..curious" you reasoned as he hummed and closed his eyes again.

"saturn." he stated simply.

"that was quick. how come?" you asked in curiousity , you werent allowed to take astronomy because you already signed up for other classes instead- so naturally you wanted to expand your knowledge on the topic.

"its got nothing to do with anything scientific or meaningful , its just pretty. like you." he said as you gasped at his last two words.

"you think im not meaningful?!" you dramatically asked in fake offence , laughing at the boys horrified face as he began to stutter out an argument.

"no its not that - definitely not! you mean everything to me! youre just...really pretty. like saturn" he mumbled and rambled trying hard to not upset you.

"dont worry theo , i was joking!" you laughed as he let out a sigh of relief, "ive always liked the moon."

"thats not a planet." theo scoffed in amusement.

"hey dont be rude of course i know that!" you both laughed , "but i like the moon because its pretty, like you."

"you cant call me pretty." he crossed his arms in frustration.

"and why not?" you teased.

"im handsome - not pretty" he complained , blushing red when you laugh and place a kiss on his cheek.

"you're both, does being called pretty damage your little male ego?" you laughed at him.

"shut up" he mumbled.

"im only joking theo , youre more than pretty and handsome , i mean look at that beautiful face!" you grinned and pushed his curls off his forehead.

he blushed deeply and tried to hide his face from you, leading you to giggle and kiss his cheek that was facing you.

meanwhile across the common room , mattheo and draco watch you from a distance.

"i dont get how she does it." mattheo said in astonishment , watching as you tickled theodore and made him smile and laugh so brightly.

"its incredible. must be some kind of magic." draco stated , equally as intruiged.

"yeah , pretty , funny and smart y/n magic," mattheo scoffed as draco nodded , acknowlegding that in reality, you were the full package.

"youre right. i honestly dont blame him." draco shrugged.

there was a short silence before mattheo finally looked away fromy you and theo , turning to draco and making draco mirror his movements.

"10 galleons that he says i love you first." mattheo stuck his hand out for draco to shake.

draco seemed skeptical before taking his hand and shaking it firmly , "sure, ill bet the latter then."

mattheo smirked at him , assuming it was obvious theodore would infact say i love you before you did.

"i cant believe you just bet that?! merlin malfoy you have no emotional intelligence do you!" mattheo laughed , assuming he had already won the bet.

"jokes on you riddle , y/n already told theo she loves him. yesterday , youd be suprised how much theo confines in me," malfoy smirked seeing mattheos shocked face.

"what?!" mattheo seethed , "why wouldnt he tell me first? did he say it back?!"

draco scoffed and looked from you two and back to mattheo , "is that even a question?"

[theosbaby]

helping hand

lorenzo berkshire x fem!reader

masterlist

summary; the guys find out that enzo is still a virgin and they keep bothering him about it, so he asks for your help.

warnings; friends to lovers, use of y/n (just once i think), loss of virginity, SMUT, virgin!lorenzo, sub!lorenzo, dom!reader, mutual masturbation, p in v, lots of praising, neck grabbing, hair pulling, slight orgasm denial, unprotected sex.

author's note; english isn't my first language, so you might find mistakes. yes, i have read filthy and i know lorenzo isn't innocent at all, but i wanted to portray him like that for this one, hope you like it!

lorenzo was your best friend, he had been since you both were a couple of tweens and met at the hogwarts express on your first year. you remembered that day as if it had been yesterday. he had bumped into you, which made you drop your chocolate frog to the ground, after that, he immediately apologized and bought you the whole honeydukes trolley as an apology; at that moment, you swore to yourself you would never let him go.

and seven years later, he was the most important person in your life.

as every friday night, lorenzo and you were having a sleepover in your dormroom. that night, pansy, your roommate, was out on a date with some dude and you had the room all to yourselves. you were lying in your bed, enzo next to you. a film was playing, but you were having trouble to focus on it since enzo kept moving; he looked uneasy, which was really rare to be honest, lorenzo was the calmest guy in the whole wizarding world.

you couldn't possibly imagine what was going on in that pretty head of his.

truth is, the week before, the rest of the guys had discovered that enzo was still a virgin and they had been teasing him about it nonstop since then, which had already started to seriously bother him. at first, maybe you could say it was funny, but after eight days of constant jokes, it was not funny anymore.

you sighed, finally deciding to ask him what was going through his mind.

"lorenzo," you called him, using his full name, which you rarely did, "is something wrong? you seem off today..."

enzo looked away, clearly trying to avoid your eyes, and you frowned; that was the confirmation you needed to know that something was not fine, he never averted your gaze like that.

"nothing, just... dealing with some stress." he answered, dodging the subject. when he saw your unpleased look, he added, "it's not a big deal, seriously. don't worry about it."

"cmon, enzo..." you said, reaching to cup his cheek and force him to look at you, "i know you like the palm of my hand and i know something's bothering you."

you smiled reassuringly at him, pausing the film to focus fully on the conversation, then you added, "you can tell me anything, you know that, right?"

enzo's cheeks blushed slightly, his eyes darting back and forth as he looked at you, clearly hesitating whether he should tell you or not.

"you wouldn't... you wouldn't think any less of me, would you?" he asked and you saw a hint of vulnerability in his light brown irises.

you frowned as you looked at him, caressing his cheek softly; his attitude was making you really worried.

"of course not, enzo... you're my best friend," you told him with a soft and sweet voice, trying to get him to open to you.

he nodded slowly, leaning into your touch; he found comfort in your presence, it had always been that way. taking a deep breath, enzo finally confessed.

"well... it's just that... the guys found out i'm still a virgin and they've been teasing me about it all week." as he talked, his voice was barely above a whisper.

"that's it?" you asked, chuckling as your worried expression visibly softened. "they're a bunch of idiots... just ignore them, enzo," you reassured him, your hand moving up to stroke his soft hair.

enzo managed to let out a small laugh, his expression softening at your comment too.

"yeah, i know..." he muttered, his eyes fixed in yours as he thought of his next words, "but it's hard not to let it get to me when they treat me like some sort of joke."

"don't say that, enzo..." you replicated, your brow furrowed as you heard his words. "there's nothing wrong with being a virgin."

he nodded, agreeing with you, while his eyes drifted back to the paused movie on the screen. despite your words, he still seemed a bit troubled. you were definitely going to beat the guys up the next time you saw them for making enzo feel so bad about something completely normal and natural.

"i know that... i can't help but feel self-conscious about it though," he said, then elaborated, "I mean, everyone else seems to be... well, you know."

"experienced?" you asked, finishing his sentence.

you grabbed his hand, entwining your fingers with his; you wanted to make him feel better. he looked down at your intertwined fingers and sighed softly.

"yeah... experienced." he nodded while he talked. "it's not like i haven't tried to lose my virginity or anything; it's just never been the right time or person, i guess."

you gave his hand a gentle squeeze when you heard his words, smiling at how sweet he was. enzo was simply the perfect guy, the perfect friend, and you were sure someday he'd be the perfect boyfriend.

"you'll get there eventually, trust me," you chuckled and rested your head on his shoulder. "just don't overthink it, okay?"

lorenzo smiled back, clearly more relaxed now that had confided in you. his fingers tightened slightly around yours as he rested his head on top of yours.

"i know, thanks for listening, darling."

"always, enzo." you kissed his cheek briefly. "and if they bother you again about it, just let me know, i'll gladly hit them," you added, laughing.

"you would do that for me?" he looked at you, his expressive eyes sparkling in the dim light of the room.

"i'd do anything for you," you answered honestly, smiling warmly at him.

it was the truest thing you had ever told him; there wasn't a single thing you wouldn't sacrifice for him. he was just worth it. your words seemed to awake something in him, you could almost see the gears in his head spinning as he stared at you intently.

"really? anything?" his voice deepened a bit, his eyes still locked onto yours. "can i ask you something then?"

"of course silly, anything," you replied, letting out a nervous laugh as his intense gaze made you feel butterflies in your belly.

"would you..." he swallowed nervously, taking a deep breath before continuing. "would you maybe... want to be my first?"

your breath hitched when you heard his proposal, your heart started racing in your chest. for a second, you thought that you could be dreaming, so you pinched yourself; the pain you felt confirmed that your were, in fact, not sleeping.

"enzo, are you sure about that?" you questioned, unsure if he was saying it seriously or not. "we've just talked about that, there's nothing wrong with being a virgin," you repeated.

"i know, darling." he bite his lower lip, looking down at the floor for a moment before meeting your eyes again. "but i can't stop thinking about it... and i'd really like it to be with you."

"really?" you gasped in surprise, nipping at your bottom lip to try and hide the smirk that tugged at the corners of your mouth.

you loved enzo; not the kind of love you feel for a brother, though, you were in love with him, and you had tried to convince yourself otherwise for a long time, because you thought your feelings weren't reciprocated, but now... he was in front of you, asking you to be his first, and you weren't sure if you'd be able to ignore your feelings anymore.

"you aren't just doing it out of social pressure?"

you wanted to make sure he was not feeling pressured to do it; you wanted him to do it only if he finally felt ready to take that step.

"no, i mean it," he said, blushing shyly. "i really want it to be with you, y/n. you're so beautiful, and kind, and smart. i've had a crush on you for years."

his admission made your heart skip a beat; you thought you were going to faint right there and then. your thoughts were all over the place, your mind racing as you looked at him, but there was just one thing that you knew for sure; you were dying to kiss him... so you did.

"then, i guess it can be arranged," you whispered, reaching to cup his face and pull him into a kiss, one that was very sweet at first.

enzo's eyes fluttered shut as he leaned into the kiss, his hands moving to rest on your hips. he gasped softly against your lips, his heart racing wildly. you took control of the kiss as you tangled your fingers in his hair and tug at it, slipping your tongue in his mouth; the innocent kiss soon turning into a full make out session.

his hands moved slowly but surely down to the small of your back, gently pressing against your lower back and pulling you even closer to him. you slightly moaned into the kiss, unable to get enough of the taste of his soft lips.

"you taste so good, enzo," you muttered between kisses, not pulling back at any moment.

your hand moved down his neck, gripping at it, which made enzo gasp softly, his fingers digging into your waist as his tongue became bolder in your mouth. he could feel himself getting hard, the rush of blood making him dizzy.

he was practically on top of you at that point, so you pushed him gently until he was sitting on the bed, back against the headboard and you straddled his lap, leaning in to resume the kissing. quickly, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you as close a he possibly could. one of his hands moved to the hem of your shirt, pushing it upwards slowly; the gentle caress of his fingertips on your skin gave you goosebumps.

"you want me to take this off, baby?" you asked, breaking the kiss, as you started toying with the hem of your top.

lorenzo looked at you with hooded eyes, licking his lips slightly. "yes, please… take it off."

you smirked, grabbing the hem of your top and pulling it off your body. since you were not wearing a bra, you breasts were now completely exposed under his intense gaze. his eyes darkened as he saw your boobs for the first time; they were perfect, just like the rest of you.

"have you ever touched a girl, enzo?" you questioned, a sweet tone to your voice.

he swallowed hard, his hands aching to touch you, and answered, "no, i haven't."

"don't be shy, baby," you whispered with a smile, grabbing his hands to encourage him to cup your breasts, squeezing them lightly. "like this."

enzo stared at your face closely, his eyes filled with lust as he mimicked your action, his hands squeezing both your boobs gently. his thumbs brushed against your little nipples, causing them to harden instantly.

"you're beautiful," he breathed out, completely stunned at your beauty.

you gasped slightly, your cheeks flushing as a heat wave washed over your body; your panties growing wetter by the second. the way he touched you, as if he was worshipping your body, was a huge turn on.

"thank you, baby," you muttered, squirming in his lap.

enzo moaned softly as he felt your body grinding against his hard length. he kissed along your jawline and down your neck, nipping softly as he went. you let out a cute whimper, your eyes fluttering shut when you felt his tongue lapping at one of your hard nipples and you reached up to tangle your fingers in his soft hair, caressing it tenderly; he groaned against your skin as he began to suck at the hard nub gently.

his hand moved down between your legs and he slipped his fingers underneath the fabric of your shorts and panties; you felt his digits rubbing hesitantly over your pussy, as if he didn't know what to do with them next.

"enzo," you gasped at his action, tugging at his hair tenderly. "you have never done that before, right?" you chuckled as you you caressed his face.

lorenzo blushed slightly and shook his head slowly, still teasing your sensitive skin with his fingers. his eyes locked onto yours as he whispered back, "no... i have not."

"let me show you how to do it properly, yeah?" you said with a sweet voice, grabbing his hand to pull it out of your panties.

then, you got off his lap, sitting next to him as you pushed your shorts and underwear down your legs, finally exposing your pussy. his breath hitched in his throat as he saw you completely bare for the first time. he reached out tentatively, tracing a finger along your upper thigh.

your hand moved down to cup your pussy, your fingers gently parting your slick folds to rub your swollen clit in circles, teaching him how you liked it; you couldn't help but gasp at the touch.

"just like this, see?" you asked, looking at him with glazed eyes.

enzo's eyes darkened as he watched you touch yourself; you looked so vulnerable and exposed, yet so sexy. when you withdrew your hand, he replaced your fingers with his, mirroring your movements as he started rubbing your clit in small circles.

"fuck yeah, like that..." you muttered, your breathing coming out in sharp pants as your hips bucked forward. "doing so good for me, enzo," you praised.

he groaned at your praise as he watched you writhing at his touch. his dick was rock hard in his pants and he wished more than anything that he could slide it into your tight pussy right away.

you reached next to you to push his sweatpants down his thighs, just enough to free his erection. he arched his back slightly to help you and his hard cock sprung free, standing tall against his flat stomach. you bit your lower lip, your mouth watering when you saw his dick; he was really big.

"can i touch you, baby?" you asked, your hand absentmindedly tracing patterns over his abs.

enzo's breath hitched at your touch. his abs flexed slightly under your fingertips as he nodded eagerly. when he gave you his permission, you grabbed his length in your hand gently, pumping it slowly at first.

he groaned at your touch, leaning back against the headboard as you began to stroke his cock, his fingers still rubbing your soaked pussy. his eyes were half-closed as he watched you move your hand up and down.

"that feels so good, darling," he muttered.

you moaned in response when his digits picked up speed, pressing down your swollen clit and making you squirm in pleasure. your chest raised and fell quickly as you gasped for air.

he smirked as he felt your body respond to his touch, leaning forward to capture your lips in a passionate kiss that you returned instantly. his tongue slipped inside your mouth as his hand slid down your slit, searching for your entrance; he pushed two fingers inside of you, feeling your wetness coat his digits as he began to thrust them in and out.

you whined, involuntarily breaking the contact between your lips, and your face scrunched in pleasure. your hand moved faster as it stroke his cock, your thumb teasing his tip, that was leaking precum.

he groaned, his mouth finding your neck. his free hand slid up to cup your breast, massaging it gently as he continued to finger fuck you. he was already close to cumming, all the new sensations overwhelming him, but he wanted to make it last as long as possible.

"enzo, fuck," you cursed, your pussy tightening around his fingers when you felt the coil in your belly about to snap. "such a good boy... making me feel so good."

you gasped, your pumps becoming sloppier as you approached your orgasm. enzo's breath hitched at your praising words, hips bucking against your hand, unable to contain himself any longer.

"please, love... let me inside you," he begged between breathy moans, his fingers thrusting in and out of you harder.

"how do you want me, baby?" you asked in a whisper, your lips brushing his as you spoke.

enzo nipped at his lower lip, he didn't even have to think his answer. "i want you to ride me," he muttered as he looked into your eyes, his own glazed with lust.

you gasped when he withdrew his fingers from your pussy, a smirk tugging at your lips as you said, "whatever you want, baby."

you released his cock from your grasp to climb onto his lap. enzo's breath caught in his throat when you straddled him, the sight of your wet pussy just inches from his cock making him shudder with anticipation; he almost came on the spot. his hands found purchase on your hips, pulling you closer to him.

you grabbed his cock and placed the tip against your entrance, slowly lowering yourself onto it. you couldn't help but moan as you took his big cock inside you. once he was fully seated within your pussy, you stood still for a moment to get used to the new intrusion.

"how does that feel, my pretty boy?" you asked, leaning in to nuzzle his neck affectionately.

he groaned, his hands moving to cup your ass as he began to instinctively thrust up into you. it felt so perfect, so right, like every inch of him belonged inside you.

"it feels so good," he whispered in your ear, his breathing ragged.

"yeah... it does," you agreed, starting to ride him slowly at first; his cock reached all the right spots inside you so easily. "it's like your dick was fucking made for me, enzo," you moan, your breathing growing uneven.

he shuddered as he bucked up into you, his fingers digging into your ass so hard that you were sure he would leave bruises. you were so fucking tight, and he was so hard, the friction almost too much for him to handle.

you smirked as you saw him so helpless underneath your body while you rode him. you reached to tug at his hair, tilting his head back to suck at his neck, leaving some hickeys, which made him moan.

"you like being deep inside my tight pussy, enzo?" you teased him.

your boobs bounced as you jumped on his cock; that sight only adding to his pleasure. you placed your hands on his chest to support yourself, seeing his eyes roll back in his head as he felt you tighten around him; he thrust up into you, hitting that perfect spot again and again.

"yeah... so fucking much," he answered, panting heavily.

"such a naughty boy..." you cooed, a smug grin tugging at the corners of your lips. "but i love it."

you looked closely at him; he was completely flustered, cheeks flushed and hair sticking to his sweaty forehead.

"you look so fucking pretty underneath me, enzo," you complimented him

he groaned, sliding one hand down to rub against your clit roughly, the other one still holding onto your ass.

"don't stop, please." he breathed out, his hips lifting up to meet every downward thrust of yours.

"you close, pretty boy?" you asked him, watching his face attentively as he nodded in response. "you gonna be a good boy and hold it in for me, yeah?" you ordered with a soft voice.

he whimpered, biting his lip harshly. his cock throbbed inside you, aching for release, but his thumb did not stop rubbing circles on your clit; the sensation of his dick pounding into you together with the stimulation on your clit making you weak on the knees.

"yes... I'll be good for you."

"that's my boy," you praised him, struggling to keep up the pace while riding him since your legs had started shaking from the pleasure. "you gonna make me cum, baby." you breathed out, moaning loudly.

you hand had a conscience of its own and moved up to grasp at his neck, applying light pressure on it. enzo's eyes fluttered shut at the sensation, your grip limiting his air flow very slightly, but enough to make it pleasurable.

"oh fuck! i'm cumming," he moaned, gritting his teeth.

"hold it," you commanded, your voice harder that time. "you won't cum until i do."

he moaned in frustration, shaking his head as his hips jerked up into you. "please... i can't."

"just a minute, baby, i'm almost there," you promised, whimpering while your pussy started clenching around his cock as your orgasm built up.

you kept riding him until you finally fell over the edge, letting out a long string of soft moans and whimpers while your whole body shook. you leaned into his body, your hands gripping at his skin as pleasure washed over you.

"oh gods, enzo," you moaned, "you can cum now, baby."

as soon as you gave him permission, he came with a loud whimper, almost a cry, shooting his thick cum inside you in long spurts, your pussy milking his cock as both of your rode out your highs, holding onto each other tightly.

he panted, leaning his forehead against yours, his heartbeat slowing down as he tried to catch his breath.

"that was amazing."

"pretty good for a first time, huh?" you chuckled, out of breath too, while caressing his back and shoulders; your bodies were completely pressed together.

"fuck yeah... let's do it again," he laughed, grabbing your hips to push you onto the mattress; your body bounced slightly.

"enzo!" you giggled, but your playful laugh soon turned into a moan when your best friend buried his head between your legs.

you had definitely created a monster... you weren't complaining, though.

[starkwlkr]

Could I request a Hugh Jackman x Reader (in the same universe you have set up with their 3 kids, I love that sm) Where the reader is pregnant with their first baby (Alex iirc) and they haven't told anyone, but there'a rumors, so the paparazzi swarm Hugh and Reader, trying to get a good picture of any supposed baby bump so they can break the news and Hugh gets super protective-

little secret | hugh jackman

an: thanks for the request!! we finally get some baby alex even if he technically isn’t born in this fic lol BUT OMG THIS GIF IM DEAD DYING GONE

1999

When Hugh told you the news that he had gotten the part of Wolverine, you were so happy for him. In a few months, he would leave to go get fitted for his costume, train, film. You weren’t worried, but Hugh was.

You were pregnant with your first child and he obviously didn’t want to leave you alone. You assured him you and the baby would be fine. You had friends and family that called and visited you regularly so technically you weren’t alone.

After two months of being away from each other, you finally made a visit to the set. You were amazed with everything from the props to everyone’s costumes. It wouldn’t take long for you to join the same hero universe, just with a different team.

Your bump was somewhat visible. Only your families and close friends knew. And now, of course, Hugh’s new cast mates knew. Halle and Famke were so happy to finally meet you and your bump.

“Oh, you guys are going to be the best parents! Do you know the gender?” Halle asked.

“It’s a boy.” You confirmed with a smile.

“His name is going to be Alex.” Hugh added.

For a while, only a couple knew about baby Jackman. You weren’t taking any acting jobs at the moment and the media was starting to wonder. Did you retire? Or maybe it was a short break? You went from wearing your normal clothes to wearing Hugh’s clothes or oversized sweaters. It didn’t take long for talk show hosts to start theorizing about your sudden change in wardrobe.

You didn’t pay attention to the media. You hardly did. It didn’t phase you until one day when you were out with Hugh on a walk in Los Angeles. It was a day off for him and a walk seemed like a good idea at the time. Both you and Hugh wore sunglasses. Since it was sunny out, you wore a flowy dress. Again, your bump was somewhat noticeable, but you didn’t think the paparazzi were going to shove cameras in your face. You just wanted a peaceful day with your husband.

“We should’ve stayed in bed.” You whispered to Hugh. You were currently in a clothing store with Hugh. The paparazzi weren’t doing a very good job of hiding, they were waiting outside for you ready to capture pictures.

“I would say let’s make a run for it but I don’t want you or Alex to get hurt.” Hugh placed a kiss on your lips.

“Let’s go home. I’ll just put my bag over my stomach.” You sighed. So much for having a peaceful day …

So after paying for your items, Hugh took your hand and made sure you were ready to face the flashing lights. He made sure you were ready before you headed out.

Immediately the flashing lights hurt your eyes. This was hell.

“Show us the bump!”

“Is it a girl? A boy?”

“Can I get a picture of the bump?”

Hugh held you close to him. When it came time to protect you and the baby, he was ready to fight whoever got too close. Eventually you made it to the car. Hugh made sure to get you in first so he walked with you to your side and opened the door, letting you in quickly. Still the paparazzi followed. After shutting the door, Hugh warned the paparazzi to not get any closer.

“Just show us the bump!” A man said.

“Shut the fuck up!” Hugh pushed past the paparazzi and walked to the driver’s side of the car. If it were legal, he would’ve definitely run someone over. “You alright, love?”

You nodded, taking a deep breath in. “You think we’ll make the cover? I think ‘baby on board!’ is going to be the headline.” You joked, cracking a smile.

[crushmeeren]

⇢ Kirishima / Fem Reader

♡ Master List Link

☠ Everyone involved in this fic is aged up/18+.

⇢ Warnings; daddy kink, praise kink, rough sex, hair pulling, mentions of choking, throat fucking, pussy eating, vaginal sex, Kirishima spits into readers mouth and you swallow that shit happily, cream pie, sweet aftercare, sleepy sex

♡ Note; I’m in love with Kirishima, I’ve been writing a lot of headcannons lately but I simply could not resist the urge to write about this overgrown puppy of a man.

Eijirou who is the actual human embodiment of a ray of sunshine. Who if you looked up the definition of golden retriever energy in the dictionary, his picture would be there. If he had a tail it would be wagging nonstop.

Eijirou who you met for the first at the gym. You were new and consequently uncomfortable and unsure of your actions when it came to weightlifting. Who came up to you so shyly and with a smile so sweet to explain the proper way to back squat when he noticed you struggling.

Eijirou who caused you to get weak in the knees when he approached you that first time. Who appeared intimidating due to being the size of a mountain, sporting bright cherry red hair, but was the kindest man you’d ever met.

Eijirou who stuttered and blushed adorably every time you asked him to be your spotter after that. Who finally, after what seemed to be an eternity, asked for your number. Who definitely did not see you fist pump in victory after receiving said man’s text.

Eijirou who is gut wrenchingly stacked. Who is also the biggest marshmallow you’ve ever met. Who gets overly excited to play wrestle with your dog. Who you swear loves your dog more than you because they’ve become two peas in a pod since you moved in together.

Eijirou who is very intelligent. Who is maybe not top dog when it comes to academics, but he is exceptional with emotional and street intelligence. Who can somehow read your emotions like an open book, giving you immense relief when you aren’t in the mood to talk.

Eijirou who is oblivious to how he looks. Who has so many Instagram followers he doesn’t know what to do with them. It’s due to the fact that he started posting pictures of himself at the gym just for fun and unbeknownst to him everything he posts is a thirst trap. Who didn’t realize until you pointed it out, but happily reassured you that you’re his one and only.

Eijirou who just about never says no to you. Who goes with the flow, an easy smile lighting up his face. Who lets you pick out the movie for date night more often than not, but you choose something you both enjoy just the same.

Eijirou who has an infatuation with cherry twizzlers. Who has hearts in his eyes whenever you buy him a pack every Friday. Who coos and gushes about how lucky he is and how much he loves you every time you show up with a pack. Who shares them with you either way.

Eijirou who loves to wear athletic clothing. Who, on the other end of the spectrum, also enjoys dressing in the punk aesthetic. Who has two lobe piercings on each ear. Who looks otherworldly when he wears nicer outfits. Who giggles when you make a joke about his clothes looking better on your floor.

Eijirou who is best friends with Katsuki, and by some miracle you’ve become friends with blonde as well. Who often plays video games online with his friends (Katsuki, Denki, Sero, also including Izuku and Shouto). Who insists you sit on the floor between his legs while he plays.

Eijirou who purrs like a cat when you scratch his scalp whenever his hair is down. Who lays his head in your lap while you watch TV so you can continue to play with his hair. Who falls asleep halfway through the movie because he can’t keep his eyes open.

Eijirou whose presence is calming and friendly. Who makes you feel safe and secure. Who you’ve never heard a bad word said about, although you’d step up to anybody who dared to try.

Eijirou who has made you feel more loved and appreciated than anyone else you’ve ever been with before. Who fills your chest with a warmth so intense your eyes burn with tears. Who brings you your favorite food or drink out of blue. Who makes you laugh so hard your stomach cramps.

Eijirou who is, without a doubt, your other half. Being with him is like regaining a limb you didn’t realize you were missing. Who becomes your husband, the father of your children, and who you share a love with that only appears once every five life times.

Eijirou who kisses you so softly. Whose lips move lazily with yours as he lets out little breathy sighs. Whose thumbs tease under your shirt, tickling the smooth skin over your hip bones as you straddle him. Who exhales roughly, sharp teeth snagging on your bottom lip as he bites down harshly. Who sucks on it apologetically afterwards when you cry out.

Eijirou who has a hard on for having you dry hump him while you’re both still wearing clothes. Whose head thumps onto the backrest of the couch, tightening his grip on your waist when you start to grind on him. Who flushes petal pink, eyes fluttering shut with a moan as he helps you drag your clit back and forth over his straining cock.

Eijirou whose switch flips once he gets to a certain level of arousal. Who tosses you onto your bed effortlessly and cages you in between his thick arms. Who grips your jaw harshly and forces it to pop open. Who spits possessively into your mouth, commanding you to “swallow it baby girl.”

Eijirou who loves the sensation of your hot, velvet like mouth sucking his cock. Who places you on the floor with your back shoved against the side of the mattress. Who grips the hair at the nape of your neck to keep you in place as he fucks your throat and props one knee up on the bed. Who licks his lower lip when he stares into your teary eyes and murmurs with a smoky voice “you’re so good at sucking daddy’s cock baby girl. You’re stunning on your knees like this.”

Eijirou who happily eats you out from behind. Whose plush tongue traces a path from your puffy clit up to the sensitive rim of your ass. Whose thick fingers stretch your pussy open while he focuses his mouth on your rim. Who makes your belly flutter and tighten, dragging an orgasm out of you this way.

Eijirou whose cock is thick. Intimidating enough that he’s determined to get your pussy drooling before he fucks you.

Eijirou who has a daddy kink. Who has you beg for his cock when he has you folded in half. Who keeps your knees close to touching your ears as he teases the lips of your pussy with just his tip. Who tells you condescendingly “you gotta ask daddy nicely if you want to be split open sweetheart.”

Eijirou whose chest gets slick with sweat, hair falling from its spiky position when you start to go at it. Whose moans raise in pitch when he can feel your nipples slipping over and over on his pecs as he presses his weight down and fucks you. Who cries out when you squeeze him.

Eijirou who has a filthy deep stroke. Who pants and whispers toe curling praise in your ear, but fucks you like he’s trying to carve out your guts. Who lets you weave your fingers through his soft hair and hang on for leverage. Who breathlessly tells you “your pussy’s so good to me sweet thing, daddy loves fucking such a tight little thing like you.”

Eijirou whose breath hitches when he switches to fucking you from behind. Who presses his cock back in with one roll of his hips. Whose pace is brutal from the get go, nails biting into the squishy flesh of your hips. Who actively has to reign in his quirk so it doesn’t activate and shred your skin.

Eijirou who makes you cum with a wail in this position. Who threads his fingers through your hair and forces your neck back into an uncomfortable angle. Whose voice is like warm honey in your veins when he coos “Oh? Right there angel? That was a big one, wasn’t it baby? You did so well for me.”

Eijirou who pulls you up into his lap until your back is sticking to his chest and lets a hand snake around your throat as he bounces you on his cock. Who makes your spine bow as he bites your shoulder, aiming to leave an obvious mark. Who whines low in his throat when he cums, eyes rolling back when you gasp.

Eijirou who has you limping to the shower afterwards. Who is sweet and tender with his aftercare as he washes your body, massaging your lower back where it twinges. Who tells you how much he loves you as he carries you back to the bed in a towel. Who has you giggling when he pokes your ribs while you change into one of his large T-shirts.

Eijirou whose face you pepper with kisses when he climbs into the bed with you. Who’s eager for it when you wake him up in the middle of the night to ride him slow and sweet with your foreheads pressed together. Who cradles you against his chest when you eventually fall back asleep.

[mononijikayu]

supersonic — gojo satoru.

Finally, Gojo breaks the silence, his tone surprisingly serious. “Was it really that bad?” You blink, confused. “What… what do you mean?” He leans back slightly, his gaze meeting yours with an intensity that catches you off guard. “That I like you. Was it really that bad to hear?” “......I’m sorry, what?”

Genre: Alternate Universe — Canon Convergence;

Warning/s: General Rating, SFW, Romance, Fluff, Humour, Comfort/No Hurt, Strangers to Friends, Friends to Lovers, Sorcerer! Reader, Tsundere! Reader, Feelings, Romantic Confession, Getting Together, Light-Hearted, Slice of Life, Happy Ending, Gojo Satoru Loves Reader But Reader Doesn't Know How to React;

Words: 8k words.

Note: the bubble words is gojo saying you shouldn't fall hard for him!!! i didn't think this would be longer than 5k but I just??? i swear someone has to tell me not to make stuff longer because i feel bad that its way too long and people just suffer my yapping </3 anyway, i love you all!!! thank you so much for reading once again <3

masterlist

⊹˚₊‧───────────────‧₊˚⊹

YOU LIKE TO THINK THAT YOU HAVE GOOD MEMORY. You often boasted to Atsuya about your memory, especially during exam season or when the two of you had to write detailed reports after every mission. It was a point of pride—being able to recall every detail with sharp accuracy, a skill that set you apart.

But lately, that once-reliable memory has been betraying you, twisting itself into something both frustrating and bittersweet. Because now, instead of recalling battle strategies or obscure curses, you find yourself remembering everything about him. Gojo Satoru.

No matter how much you try to push the memories away, they persist, etched into your mind like an indelible mark. It’s infuriating because he’s the last person you want to think about. Yet, there he is, popping into your thoughts when you least expect it, with that smug grin and irritatingly carefree attitude.

You can’t forget that day during the Sister School Goodwill Event in your first year. It’s impossible. That was the first time you met Gojo Satoru, and even now, the memory of it lingers like a stubborn shadow. He was everything you couldn’t stand—arrogant, always grinning like he knew something you didn’t, and constantly cracking jokes that got under your skin. The moment he opened his mouth, you knew he was in trouble.

He’d waltzed into the event with an air of confidence that bordered on cocky, his white hair catching the sunlight as if to announce his presence to the world. You remember the way his sunglasses glinted as he surveyed the arena, looking completely at ease, like he owned the place.

And maybe, in a way, he did—after all, his reputation had preceded him. The strongest sorcerer of his generation, a prodigy unlike any other. Everyone was talking about him, and you had been curious, but when you finally met him, that curiosity quickly morphed into annoyance.

It wasn’t just his arrogance; it was the way he seemed to have an almost supernatural ability to push your buttons, like he had a map of your every weakness. From the moment he opened his mouth, you knew he was trouble.

He didn’t even bother with formalities, didn’t extend his hand or offer a respectful bow like any normal person might when meeting someone new. No, Gojo Satoru made his grand entrance with all the subtlety of a peacock in full display.

“Hey there, I’m Gojo Satoru. Don't fall in love with me too much, okay?” he said, his tone so light and casual it was as if he was talking about the weather. 

And then came that wink—oh, that infuriating wink. It was the kind of wink that dripped with self-assurance, as if he’d already decided that the world, including you, was his playground. The kind that made your blood pressure spike and your temper flare in an instant.

You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks as you glared at him, eyes narrowing into a scowl that you hoped would convey just how unimpressed you were. But if you expected him to back down, to maybe realize that he’d crossed a line, you were sorely mistaken. Gojo didn’t just take your scowl in stride—he laughed, a sound that was as easy and carefree as everything else about him. 

The laughter caught you off guard. It wasn’t mocking, but it wasn’t exactly kind either. It was the kind of laugh that made it clear he was enjoying this, enjoying you. It was like he’d found a new toy to play with, and your irritation only made it more fun for him.

“Aw, come on, don’t look at me like that.” he’d said, still chuckling. “I’m just trying to lighten the mood. We’re supposed to be having fun with this, right? No need to be so serious.”

But you were serious—deadly so. This wasn’t some lighthearted game to you; it was a competition, a test of skills and strength, something you’d been training for relentlessly. The Sister School Goodwill Event was your chance to prove yourself, to show that you weren’t just some novice from Kyoto who could be easily brushed aside. And here was Gojo Satoru, with his casual grin and infuriatingly relaxed demeanor, treating the whole thing like a joke.

Yet no matter how much you glared, or how much you tried to put him in his place with your icy demeanor, it seemed to only amuse him more. He had this way of tilting his head just so, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, as if he were daring you to say something, to try and put him in his place. But what could you say? Anything that came to mind seemed to bounce off him like water off a duck’s back. He was untouchable, not just in skill but in personality.

And that’s what really got to you. The way he seemed to glide through life without a care, untouched by the things that would have sent anyone else into a spiral of self-doubt. He was arrogant, yes, but it was the kind of arrogance that was infuriatingly earned. He knew he was good—no, he knew he was the best—and he wasn’t afraid to show it.

As the day went on, you found yourself trying not to react to his constant quips and jabs, but it was like trying to ignore a particularly persistent mosquito. The more you tried to brush him off, the more determined he seemed to get a rise out of you. And the worst part was, he was succeeding. Every time you shot him a glare or bit back a retort, he’d just laugh that infuriating laugh, as if to say, “See? I knew I’d get to you.”

It was like he could see right through you, past the carefully constructed walls you’d built to keep people at a distance. He saw how much you cared, how much you wanted to succeed, and he poked at that vulnerability with all the subtlety of a sledgehammer. Not because he was cruel, but because he found it entertaining.

And that’s what made him so insufferable. He wasn’t just some cocky sorcerer throwing his weight around—he was someone who enjoyed getting under your skin, who relished in the challenge of breaking down your defenses. To him, it was all a game, and you were the unwitting participant. 

Looking back now, you can almost see the moment he decided you were worth his attention. It wasn’t when you scowled at him or tried to brush off his comments; it was when he realized that no matter how hard you tried to ignore him, you couldn’t hide the way he got to you. And from that moment on, it was as if he’d made it his personal mission to see just how far he could push you.

He was everything you couldn’t stand in a person—arrogant, overconfident, and far too comfortable with himself. But even then, there was a part of you that knew there was more to him than just that. A part of you that recognized that behind the jokes and the winks, there was someone who saw the world in a way you didn’t quite understand, someone who, for better or worse, was going to be a part of your life whether you liked it or not.

That was the beginning of your tumultuous relationship with Gojo. Every interaction since then had been a battle of wits, with him always managing to get the upper hand, no matter how hard you tried to stay one step ahead. He was insufferable, and yet… you can’t stop thinking about him.

You remember how Gojo had effortlessly dodged your attacks during that time. He was skilled and perceptive. It wasn’t just that he was fast—he moved with a fluidity that made it seem as though he was dancing rather than fighting.

Each time you lunged at him, he sidestepped or spun away with an ease that was almost maddening. His grin never faltered, never wavered. It was as if he were enjoying the entire spectacle, completely unfazed by your every attempt to land a hit.

“Come on, is that the best you’ve got?” he’d taunted, his voice carrying a casual amusement that only fueled your frustration.

The way he said it, so nonchalant and dismissive, made it clear he wasn’t just teasing—you were genuinely failing to impress him. It wasn’t just a challenge to him; it was a game. And for someone like Gojo, who seemed to have everything handed to him on a silver platter, the stakes felt almost trivial.

What made it even more infuriating was the way he seemed to almost predict your every move. No matter how you changed your strategy, how you tried to outthink him, he was always one step ahead. It was as if he had a sixth sense for reading your intentions, a talent that made him appear almost supernatural. Every dodge, every counter, was executed with a precision that left no room for error.

In that moment, it felt as though the fight wasn’t just about physical skill—it was a battle of wills. You were pouring everything you had into trying to best him, to prove that you were more than just a novice from Kyoto. But Gojo’s demeanor, his seemingly effortless ability to avoid and counter your attacks, made it feel as though you were trying to fight against an immovable force.

It wasn’t just that he was good; it was the way he made it look so easy. It was like watching someone play a video game on the easiest difficulty setting while you were struggling on the hardest. His ease in the face of your best efforts was both impressive and infuriating. It was clear he was toying with you, not out of malice but because he genuinely enjoyed the challenge, however mild it might have been for him.

Every time you threw a punch or unleashed a spell, his reaction was a mix of amusement and mild surprise. It wasn’t as if he underestimated you—he knew exactly what you were capable of, and he relished the chance to outmaneuver you. His grin was a constant reminder that he was having fun, that he wasn’t taking this seriously because he didn’t have to. For him, it was all just another day, another opportunity to show off his skills.

“You’re strong!” He tells you with a grin on his face. “Let’s be friends! Give me your phone number, quick!”

"Huh?"

"Hurry, bring out your flip phone already!"

"We're in the middle of a one on one, you idiot!"

"So? I wanna be your friend!"

And that was what made him so exasperating. The whole event felt like it was being played out on his terms, with him in control of every aspect. To him, it was less about proving himself and more about showing just how superior he was in a way that made it almost seem effortless. The arrogance wasn’t just in his words; it was in every action, every movement that demonstrated his dominance.

For you, the fight was a matter of pride, a chance to show that you were more than capable, that you could stand toe-to-toe with someone of his caliber. But every time you saw that grin, every time you heard that taunting voice, it drove home the fact that no matter what you did, you were always going to be playing catch-up. And the more you tried, the more it seemed like you were just feeding into his amusement.

The whole experience left you feeling both frustrated and oddly impressed. Frustrated because you couldn’t seem to catch him, no matter how hard you tried. Impressed because, despite your annoyance, you couldn’t help but admire his skill and confidence. It was a bittersweet combination of emotions, one that made you both present and respect him in equal measure. And as much as you wanted to forget that day, Gojo’s presence in your mind remained an ever-present reminder of the challenge he represented—and the way he seemed to effortlessly stay one step ahead.

But what bothers you the most is how, despite all of his flaws, there’s something about him that draws you in. No matter how hard you try to deny it, those memories of him, those moments where he’d flash you that grin or make a ridiculous joke, are seared into your mind.

You find yourself remembering the smallest details—the way his voice sounded when he teased you, the warmth of his hand when he’d casually patted your shoulder after a mission, the way his eyes, hidden behind those sunglasses, seemed to see right through you.

It’s maddening because you’ve spent so much time trying to forget, trying to focus on anything but him. But no matter what you do, the memories remain, vivid and persistent. And it leaves you wondering, despite everything, why you can’t just let go. Why, after all this time, you’re still thinking about Gojo Satoru.

Back then, when you first met Gojo Satoru during the Sister School Goodwill Event, you had quickly dismissed him as just another arrogant brat who seemed to have the world handed to him on a silver platter. His cocky attitude, the way he flaunted his abilities, and his effortless charm made it all too easy to write him off.

To you, he was nothing more than a figure of annoyance—a sorcerer who, with his overconfidence and privileged position, would never be someone you’d get along with. It seemed clear from the start that your paths would never truly align.

Fast forward to the summer break of that year, and you find yourself face-to-face with him again. The sun blazes overhead, turning every outdoor spot into a sweltering inferno.

You're trying to navigate the heat while staying cool, but Gojo Satoru appears as if the oppressive temperature doesn’t affect him at all. His white hair seems to shimmer in the sunlight, and he’s wearing his trademark sunglasses, the kind that makes him look perpetually unbothered.

You’re waiting in line at a smoothie stand, desperately trying to cool down with a cone in hand. You were fanning yourself, trying to evade the intensity of the strong Kyoto sun. That’s when he shows up, casually strolling towards you with that infuriating smirk plastered on his face.

“Hey there, struggling to beat the heat?” Gojo calls out, his tone light and teasing. 

You roll your eyes, not in the mood for his games. “It’s scorching out here, Gojo. Not exactly the time for you to be playing your little tricks.”

“Oh, come on,” he says, leaning against the counter with an exaggerated sigh. “I’m just here to offer some company. Can’t have you melting away all alone, can I?”

You try to ignore him, focusing on your drink as if it’s the most fascinating thing in the world. “I’m fine. Really.”

But Gojo isn’t deterred. He follows you as you leave the stand, his presence like an unwelcome shadow. “So, where are you headed next? I hear there’s a nice little café down the street. We could cool off there.”

“I’m not interested, Gojo.” you snap, quickening your pace.

“Are you sure?” he persists, easily matching your stride. “It’s not every day you get to hang out with the strongest sorcerer in town. I promise I won’t bite.”

You shoot him a skeptical glance. “You’re really not going to give up, are you?”

“Not a chance,” he grins. “You look like you could use a break, and I could use some company. Besides, I’m a great conversationalist. You might even enjoy it.”

Despite yourself, you find his persistence a bit endearing. You sigh, finally relenting. “Fine. One quick stop at the café, and then you leave me alone.”

“Deal!” Gojo exclaims, his grin widening. “You won’t regret it, I promise.”

At the café, as you sit across from him, the air conditioning feels like a blessing. Gojo Satoru is still as relaxed as ever, leaning back in his chair with that same self-assured smirk. “See? Much better, right?”

You can’t help but smile a little. “Yeah, this is definitely better. But don’t think this means I’m going to start liking you or anything.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it, captain!” Gojo says, his tone playful. “I’m just here to make sure you’re not melting away into a puddle of frustration.”

As the conversation flows, his teasing starts to feel less like an annoyance and more like genuine fun. He talks about his latest adventures, exaggerates stories in his usual dramatic fashion, and even shares some surprisingly insightful observations about the work you both do. Somehow, he manages to not get on your nerves today.

“You know,” he says between bites of his own ice cream, “for someone who hates me so much, you sure seem to enjoy spending time with me right now.”

You snicker, shaking your head. “I don’t know about that. I think I’m just making the best of a bad situation.”

“Well, I’d like to think it’s more than that.” Gojo says with a wink. “Maybe you’re starting to see that I’m not just a cocky brat. Maybe I’m actually kind of fun.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Gojo.” you warn, though you’re smiling. “This doesn’t change anything. I still think you’re incredibly annoying.”

“Fair enough, I suppose.” Gojo chuckles. “But I’ll take that as a win for now. Maybe one day, I’ll get you to admit that I’m not so bad after all.”

As you finish up your meal, you reflect on how different this encounter is from your first meeting. The arrogance is still there, but it’s mixed with a kind of charm that’s hard to ignore. Despite yourself, you find that you’re enjoying his company, and maybe, just maybe, there’s more to him than the cocky façade he puts on.

By the end of the day, as you part ways, you can’t shake the feeling that this summer break—this unexpected reunion—might just be the start of something different. Gojo’s persistence has managed to chip away at your defenses, and you’re left wondering if there’s more to this irritating sorcerer than meets the eye.

You tell yourself he’s still as annoying as ever, but your heart betrays you, pounding in your chest whenever he’s near. You don’t understand why, but you can't help but feel drawn to him. Every time you think of how he made you laugh when you least expected it, or how his confidence seemed to shield you from the world, your feelings get more confusing.

Is it possible that the guy who irritates you so much is the same one who’s now making your heart race? You can’t figure it out, but one thing’s for sure—something has changed, and you can’t ignore it anymore. You try to shake it off, convincing yourself it’s just the heat messing with your mind. After all, why would you like someone like Gojo Satoru? 

He’s arrogant, overconfident, and never takes anything seriously. But then, you remember how, during that first encounter, he didn’t just laugh at you—he noticed things. Little things. Like how you tried to stay strong even when you were clearly out of your comfort zone, or how you struggled to keep up with the fast pace of the event but never gave up.

You tell yourself it’s nothing, that he’s just good at reading people. Yet, the memory of his voice, the way he looked at you with those sharp eyes hidden behind his glasses, keeps replaying in your mind. The more you think about it, the harder it becomes to deny what you’re feeling.

It’s frustrating. You’re not supposed to like someone who drives you crazy, who makes you question everything about yourself. But here you are, your heart beating faster every time you think of him, and that infuriating smirk of his. Why did he have to be so… so irritatingly charming?

You find yourself wondering what it would be like to see him again, to have him tease you just so you can feel that strange flutter in your chest. But then, you immediately scold yourself for even thinking that way. There’s no way you could actually like him… right?

But deep down, you know the truth. No matter how much you try to deny it, the thought of Gojo Satoru won’t leave your mind. And with each passing day, the line between irritation and affection blurs just a little bit more. Yet you can’t do much about it. One way or another, somehow—you were just stuck with him being around. In Kyoto or Tokyo, or everywhere else. He’s just somehow always round. 

Months passed by, and it was summer again.

You’re sitting with Shoko Ieiri under the shade of a tree, fanning yourself with a hand to combat the relentless summer heat. It’s one of those rare, blissful afternoons where you’ve managed to carve out some free time. With Utahime-senpai occupied with a mission from Gakuganji and no assignments on your plate, you decided to take advantage of the break to catch up with Shoko. The two of you have become quite good friends over time, and her presence is a welcome relief from the sweltering heat. And you think that even under this hot summer this year, you’ll end up becoming better friends.

Shoko leans back against the tree, her posture relaxed as she takes a sip from her drink. She listens with a wry smile as you continue your tirade. You’ve been going on about Gojo Satoru for what feels like hours now, pouring out your frustrations about how annoying and insufferable he is.

“You wouldn’t believe it, Shoko. He just—ugh! He keeps showing up everywhere I go! It’s like he has a personal vendetta to make my life miserable.”

Shoko raises an eyebrow, her smile barely containing the amusement she’s clearly feeling. “And yet, you don’t seem to be able to stop talking about him.”

“That’s because he’s impossible to ignore!” you exclaim, waving your fan more vigorously. “He’s always so… so smug! Always grinning like he’s got some big secret. I can’t stand it!”

Shoko chuckles, taking another sip of her drink. “You know, the way you’re describing him, it almost sounds like you’ve got a bit of a crush.”

You nearly choke on your own breath. “A crush? Are you kidding me? I can’t stand him! He’s arrogant and insufferable. There’s no way I’d ever—”

Shoko cuts you off with a knowing look. “Oh, come on. It’s perfectly normal to be irritated by someone you’re secretly interested in. You’re practically obsessed with him.”

“I am not!” you insist, your face turning a shade redder as you realize how ridiculous you must sound. “I’m just... venting! He’s always there, poking at my patience, and it drives me insane!”

“Uh-huh.” Shoko says, clearly enjoying your flustered state. “And yet, you’ve been ranting about him for an hour now. You don’t do that with just anyone.”

You huff, crossing your arms defensively. “That’s because he’s a special kind of irritating. There’s nothing romantic about it, Shoko. It’s purely aggravation!”

Shoko leans in, her expression teasing. “Sure, sure. Whatever you say. But if you don’t want to talk about Gojo, maybe we should switch topics.”

Before you can respond, a familiar voice calls out from behind you. “Hey, I didn’t realize I’d find you here.”

You turn to see Gojo Satoru standing a few feet away, his sunglasses reflecting the sunlight in a way that makes him look even more infuriatingly cool. Beside him was Geto Suguru, who had a face that reflected yours. He was, you supposed, as done as you were with the man with bright cerulean eyes. You purse your lips. He’s grinning, that same smirk plastered across his face as he casually approaches.

“What are you doing here?” you demand, trying to keep your irritation in check. “This is a private conversation, Gojo. Leave us alone.”

“Yeah, Satoru.” Geto parrotted back, his hands in his pockets. “Leave them alone!”

Gojo just laughs, seemingly unfazed. “How cold! I was just passing by and thought I’d say hello. But it seems like I’m interrupting something. Were you talking about me?”

Shoko suppresses a grin behind her drink as you try to regain your composure. “No, we were just—”

As Gojo stands there, still grinning, Shoko decides to have a little fun. She leans in, looking as though she’s about to share a juicy secret. “Actually, I was just telling her how annoying you are,” she interjects with a playful nudge. “In detail too. Nothing was held back.”

Gojo’s smirk only widens, clearly amused by Shoko’s teasing. Before he can respond, Geto Suguru—who has been hovering just out of sight—steps into view. He’s carrying a large bag of sweets and looks somewhat frazzled, his usual cool demeanor slightly ruffled. He looked so worn out, you think. Much too much heat and Gojo, you feel for the guy.

“Honestly, you should have called me. Geto says with a grin, eyeing both you and Shoko. “I have a lot more to share about this freak.”

You turn to Geto, eyes wide in surprise. “What did you just call him?”

“HUH!? Suguboo, how dare you call me a freak?” Gojo’s voice rises in mock outrage, his face turning into an exaggerated scowl.

Geto rolls his eyes, clearly unbothered by Gojo’s antics. “You dragged me around Tokyo to buy sweets all day. I can’t feel my body anymore.” He crosses his arms over his chest, his expression one of mild exasperation. “You’re currently not on my good side.”

Gojo throws a hand up in dramatic defense. “Hey, I had to make sure you didn’t miss out on the best sweets Tokyo has to offer! It’s not my fault if you overindulge.”

Geto shakes his head, still grumbling. “I’m pretty sure it was more than just overindulgence. I was about ready to collapse by the end of it.”

Shoko laughs, thoroughly enjoying the banter. “See, you’re not the only one who has complaints about Gojo. Even Geto here has his grievances.”

You look from Shoko to Gojo and then to Geto, feeling a mix of amusement and relief. The dynamic between the three of them is light and playful, and it’s clear that there’s a strong sense of camaraderie, despite the occasional grumbling.

“Well, it’s nice to know I’m not alone in my irritation,” you say, letting out a small chuckle.

Gojo’s grin turns into a more genuine smile as he turns to you. “Hey, don’t be too hard on me. If I’m really that annoying, at least I’m entertaining.”

Geto snorts, clearly unimpressed. “Entertaining or not, you owe me for today. We’re going to need a serious dessert break after all that.”

You nod in agreement, feeling more at ease with the situation. “Agreed. And Gojo, don’t think you’re off the hook just because you showed up here. I’m still not happy about you popping up everywhere I go. You’re so annoying!”

Gojo raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Annoying, huh? Well, I guess that’s one way to describe me. But if I’m annoying, why do you keep bringing me up?”

You groan, feeling the heat on your face increase, whether from the sun or from embarrassment you can’t tell. You didn’t want to know.  “Oh, just go away. We were having a perfectly nice conversation before you showed up.”

Gojo chuckles and leans casually against the tree. “Well, I was hoping you might invite me to join you. But if I’m that annoying, I guess I’ll just have to prove I’m not.”

Shoko looks between you and Gojo, clearly enjoying the scene. “You know, it’s kind of nice to see you two together. It’s like watching a rom–com soap opera, but with crazy strong superpowers.”

You shoot Shoko a mock glare, though it's clear you’re not truly upset. The corners of your mouth twitch into a smile despite your best efforts to look annoyed. “Thanks for your support, Shoko.”

Suguru Geto, still holding the bag of sweets, grins broadly. “Shoko, you and your talent for fueling fires. I swear, you live for this kind of chaos.”

Shoko, not missing a beat, gives an exaggerated bow. “Anytime, folks. I’m here for your entertainment. It’s my specialty, after all.”

Geto chuckles and shakes his head. “I’m starting to think you enjoy stirring up trouble more than actually helping out.”

“Maybe,” Shoko admits with a playful glint in her eye. “But where’s the fun in being boring?”

You can’t help but laugh at the exchange. It’s moments like these, filled with light-hearted teasing and genuine friendship, that make summer breaks so enjoyable. The heat of the day, the annoyances of the past, and even the unexpected encounters with Gojo seem to fade into the background as you relax with friends who make even the most mundane moments entertaining.

“Well…..” you say, still smiling, “if I have to deal with more of Gojo’s antics, I’m glad I have you two around. It definitely makes the experience more bearable.”

Shoko grins, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “We aim to please. Just remember, if Gojo starts getting on your nerves again, you know where to find us.”

“Absolutely.” Geto adds, lifting the bag of sweets in a mock salute. “And if you need more sweets to get through it, I’ll be your guy. Though, I can’t promise I won’t complain about it.”

“Oh, Suguru! There’s a Digimon-themed café nearby!” Gojo exclaims, excitement clear in his voice as he checks his flip phone. His eyes are practically sparkling with enthusiasm as he waves the phone in front of Suguru and you.

Suguru Geto, clearly exhausted from the earlier sweet spree and the relentless summer heat, groans. “Hehhhh, I don’t wanna go anymore, Satoru. I’m tired.”

Gojo, however, is undeterred by Suguru’s reluctance. He leans in, practically vibrating with eagerness. “Suguru, please! You can sit down throughout while I do my thing. They have card trades going on there right now! You know how rare those are.”

Suguru looks at Gojo with a mix of amusement and frustration. “Card trades? Really? Is that what’s got you so worked up?”

“Yes!” Gojo says, his voice rising with a mixture of pleading and excitement. “I’ve been looking for a specific card for ages. This is my chance!”

You watch the interaction with a smirk, enjoying the dynamic between the two. Suguru’s exhaustion is palpable, but Gojo’s enthusiasm is infectious. It’s clear that Gojo is determined to drag Suguru along, no matter how tired he is.

“Come on, Suguru!” Gojo continues, his tone softening as he tries to appeal to Suguru’s better nature. “Just a little while. You can rest while I geek out over the Digimon stuff. And there’s bound to be something good for you too, right? Maybe a nice, cool drink or something.”

Suguru sighs, clearly defeated but not entirely unmoved. “Alright, alright. But if this turns into another full day of Gojo dragging me around, I swear I’m going to collapse.”

“Deal!” Gojo says, beaming with satisfaction. “I promise we’ll keep it short. Just a quick visit, then we can head back. I owe you one, for real.”

Shoko could only sigh as though this is the hundredth time today. “Looks like we’re going to a cafe.”

“How do you deal with this everyday, Shoko?”

She shakes her head. “Believe me, you do not wanna know.”

As the four of you make your way to the café, you can’t help but chuckle at the contrast between Gojo’s boundless energy and Suguru’s weary resignation. It’s moments like these that highlight the unique blend of personalities and friendships that make summer days so memorable.

When you finally arrive at the Digimon-themed café, the atmosphere is lively, with colorful decorations and enthusiastic fans trading cards and chatting about their favorite characters. Gojo is immediately in his element, diving into the card trades with a fervor that makes you smile. 

Suguru, though still looking a bit tired, finds a comfortable spot to sit and relax, occasionally glancing over at Gojo with a mixture of amusement and exasperation. Shojo sat beside you, sipping her cold peach iced tea. For a moment, the three of you look at Gojo and think he seems almost like a child.

“You’re a trooper, you know that?” you say, handing him a cool drink you picked up from the café. “I don’t know what I would do if Kusakabe dragged me half across town for a Digimon card.”

Suguru takes a sip and smirks. “Yeah, well, it’s not every day you get to see Gojo this excited. I guess it’s worth it. Plus, more excitement for him means he’ll be less active at the dorms tonight and not bother me.”

“That….” You paused. “So he runs out of energy too, huh?”

Suguru nodded. “Well, Satoru is a human being too. He gets tired too.”

“I think I like this version of him better.”

Shoko snickers. “You sure you don’t like him?”

“Now, now. Don’t scare them away, Sho.” Suguru smiles back at his friend. “If anything, they might be the last shot for Satoru to be a human being. After all, love makes one completely human.”

“B–but that’s not….. I don’t like him like that! He’s annoying and I just….”

“Denial that sounds like absolute lies is wasting Mother Earth’s air, you know?”

You shoot Shoko a playful glare, but your frustration is tempered by an internal chaos that’s increasingly difficult to ignore. Gojo, completely absorbed in his Digimon card quest, is a whirlwind of excitement and enthusiasm. His eyes are locked on the card he’s been wanting, and the moment he finally acquires it, his face lights up with an infectious joy that makes it hard for you to look away.

As Gojo gushes over the card and exchanges high-fives with fellow fans, you’re left sitting at the table with Shoko, trying to make sense of your own turbulent emotions. Your mind feels like a jumbled mess, caught between irritation and a confusing, unwelcome admiration. The way Gojo’s energy radiates around him, how his excitement seems to draw everyone in, including you—it’s all so bewildering.

Every time Gojo moves closer, whether he’s showing off his latest acquisition or simply passing by with that characteristic, carefree swagger, your heart races a little faster. It’s a reaction you can’t quite explain, and no matter how much you want to deny it, it’s becoming increasingly clear that you’re affected by him more than you’d like to admit.

You glance over at Shoko, who’s watching the scene with an amused expression. “How does he do it?” you ask, more to yourself than to her. “How does he make everything seem so... effortless?”

Shoko’s eyes sparkle with mischief as she leans back in her chair. “Oh, come on. You know exactly how he does it. It’s the same way he manages to get under your skin so easily.”

You try to ignore the heat rising to your cheeks, feeling a mix of embarrassment and frustration. “I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about the way he gets so wrapped up in things. It’s like nothing else matters to him.”

Shoko chuckles softly. “It’s his passion. It’s what makes him who he is. And it’s probably why you can’t seem to get him out of your mind, even when you try.”

You groan, running a hand through your hair in exasperation. “I don’t know what’s going on with me. I thought I had him all figured out, but every time he’s near, it’s like everything I thought I knew just... unravels.”

Shoko’s grin widens as she takes a sip from her drink. “Sounds like you’re having a hard time sticking to your own rules. Maybe you’re just more affected by him than you want to admit.”

You shoot her another glare, but this time it’s softer, tinged with resignation. “Yeah, well, thanks for pointing that out. I really needed the reminder.”

As Gojo returns to your table, holding up his prized card with a triumphant grin, your heart skips a beat. His enthusiasm is undeniable, and despite your internal struggle, you can’t help but be drawn to his infectious energy. He flashes a quick, radiant smile in your direction before turning his attention to Suguru, who’s still looking somewhat worn out but is clearly amused by Gojo’s excitement.

“Look what I got!” Gojo announces, waving the card in front of Suguru and you. “It’s the one I’ve been searching for!”

You try to muster up a response, but the sight of Gojo’s unabashed joy and the warmth of his smile make it difficult to focus on anything else. Your heart continues to beat faster, and despite your best efforts to keep your feelings in check, it’s becoming increasingly clear that Gojo’s presence has a profound effect on you.

Shoko leans in closer, her voice a soft tease. “Looks like you’re in for an interesting summer. Who knows? Maybe there’s more to this adventure than just the heat.”

You let out a soft sigh, feeling a mix of frustration and acceptance. As Gojo continues to share his excitement with Suguru and the other café patrons, you find yourself caught up in the moment, realizing that no matter how much you try to resist it, Gojo Satoru is undeniably a part of your world now—one you can’t seem to escape, no matter how hard you try.

“I’m craving some ice cream, it’s still too hot.” You muttered under your breath towards Shoko. “I’m going to go and buy some.”

“You want me to go with you?” Shoko asked, looking up towards you. 

You shake your head. “I’ll need some time to think for a bit. Besides, it's just around the corner.”

She nodded back at you. “Okay, then call us when you come back. Gojo might be here a while, the nerd he is.”

“Sure.” You managed to mutter as you walked off.

It didn’t take you long to get to the ice cream store. You settle into a corner booth, hoping the relative solitude will give you a chance to cool down both physically and mentally. The air conditioning provides a much-needed respite from the relentless summer heat, and the cold, creamy sweetness of your ice cream is a soothing balm for your frayed nerves.

Despite the comfort of the cool air and the calming effect of the ice cream, your mind refuses to be at peace. It keeps drifting back to Gojo Satoru—his teasing words, that infuriating grin, and the effortless way he seemed to handle everything while you were left feeling like a tangled mess of frustration and confusion. You replay the scene in your head over and over, each replay adding another layer to your mounting exasperation.

You stab your spoon into the ice cream with a little more force than necessary, your frustration spilling over into the simple act of eating. The satisfying crunch of the spoon hitting the ice cream echoes your internal struggle. You're so lost in your thoughts that you don't notice the door of the shop opening until a familiar voice breaks the silence.

“There you are.”

You freeze, spoon halfway to your mouth. Slowly, you look up to see Gojo Satoru standing in the doorway, his tall frame casting a shadow over your table. He’s got that same easygoing smile on his face, but there’s something different about his expression—something softer, almost hesitant.

“Where’s Suguru and Shoko?”

“They wanted to stay behind to rest up.”

“....Makes sense. You drained them up from energy.”

“Mind if I join you?” he asks, not waiting for an answer as he steps inside and takes a seat next to you at the small table.

You can’t help but feel a surge of panic mixed with irritation as you watch Gojo settle into the seat next to you. Of all the places in the city, why did he have to find you here, in this tiny ice cream store where you’d sought refuge from the chaos of the day? The familiar flutter in your chest is back, and despite your efforts to remain calm, your heart races as he sits down across from you.

Gojo’s presence feels overwhelming, and the proximity only amplifies your confusion. You can’t seem to reconcile the image of him as the carefree, teasing troublemaker with the more subdued, almost earnest expression he wore earlier. The combination of his unexpected arrival and the emotional turmoil from the day makes it hard to focus on anything else.

For a moment, neither of you speaks. The only sounds filling the space are the steady hum of the air conditioner and the occasional clink of your spoon against the bowl of melting ice cream. It’s a stark contrast to the earlier energy of the café and the animated conversations you’d been a part of. Now, the silence feels almost oppressive, adding weight to the tension hanging between you.

You shift uncomfortably in your seat, trying to focus on the ice cream, but the act of eating feels mechanical, a mere distraction from the growing unease. Each clink of your spoon against the bowl seems louder than it should be, amplifying the silence and making it harder to ignore the pounding of your heart.

Gojo, seemingly unfazed by the silence, takes a casual sip from his own ice cream. His relaxed demeanor is in sharp contrast to your internal turmoil, and it only serves to heighten your frustration. You want to break the silence, to say something that will diffuse the tension and make sense of the situation, but the words elude you.

Finally, Gojo breaks the silence, his tone surprisingly serious. “Was it really that bad?”

You blink, confused. “What… what do you mean?”

He leans back slightly, his gaze meeting yours with an intensity that catches you off guard. “That I like you. Was it really that bad to hear?”

“......I’m sorry, what?”

Your breath catches in your throat, and you suddenly feel the urge to laugh at the absurdity of it all. But the words won’t come out. Instead, you’re left staring at him, wide-eyed and completely at a loss for what to say.

Gojo’s expression softens, and he gives you a small, almost shy smile. “I’m not the best at being subtle, I know. But I meant it. I like you.”

Your heart skips a beat, and in your shock, you try to respond—but instead of words, all that comes out is a choked gasp as you accidentally inhale a spoonful of ice cream.You start coughing, the cold dessert lodged in your throat as you struggle to catch your breath. Gojo’s eyes widen in alarm, and he quickly reaches over to pat your back, trying to help you out. 

“Hey, hey, easy! Are you okay?”

You manage to swallow the ice cream, though your throat still feels cold and tight. Your face is burning with embarrassment, and you can barely bring yourself to look at him. “Y-Yeah, I’m fine… I just… you just…”

Gojo lets out a relieved laugh, though there’s a hint of concern in his eyes. “Sorry, didn’t mean to shock you that much. I guess I should’ve picked a better time to say it, huh?”

You don’t know how to respond. Your mind is a whirlwind of emotions—confusion, disbelief, and something else you can’t quite identify. The fact that he just confessed, out of nowhere, is overwhelming, to say the least. He waits for you to say something, his usual playful demeanor tempered with genuine concern. 

“I’m serious, though. I know I tease you a lot, but that’s just because I like being around you. You’re fun, and… well, I like you.”

You feel your heart pounding again, and you’re not sure if it’s because of his words or the way he’s looking at you. It’s different from his usual teasing gaze—there’s a sincerity in his eyes that you’ve never seen before.

“I…” You struggle to find the right words, but nothing comes out the way you want it to. “I don’t know what to say.”

He smiles, that playful edge returning just a bit. “You don’t have to say anything right now. I just wanted you to know how I feel. But… if it’s too much, I’ll back off.”

You shake your head, feeling a mix of emotions too tangled to sort out. “No, it’s just… I wasn’t expecting this. At all.”

Gojo’s smile softens, and he reaches out, gently taking your hand in his. “It’s okay. We don’t have to figure it all out right now, okay?”

You nod slowly, your mind still reeling from everything that’s happened. As he sits there beside you, holding your hand in his, you realize that despite all the teasing and frustration, there’s something undeniably real about the way he’s looking at you now. Maybe, just maybe, this summer heat isn’t the only thing making your heart race.

Gojo’s hand is warm against yours, and the feeling sends a flurry of butterflies through your stomach. He’s still looking at you with that playful grin, but there’s a tenderness in his gaze that makes your heart flutter.

“Sorry for springing this on you out of nowhere.” he says, his thumb gently brushing over your knuckles. “But I couldn’t help it. Seeing you all flustered and cute earlier… I just had to tell you how I feel.”

You glance down at your hands, trying to process everything, but all you can focus on is the way his fingers are interlaced with yours. It’s surprisingly comforting, and you find yourself feeling a little less overwhelmed by the situation.

Gojo leans in a bit closer, his voice dropping to a soft, teasing tone. “You know, you’re even cuter when you’re flustered. I might have to make it my mission to see that expression on your face more often.”

You feel your cheeks heat up again, and you instinctively try to pull your hand away, but Gojo holds on gently, his smile widening. “No escaping this time. You’ve caught my attention, okay?  I’m not letting go so easily.”

You huff, trying to sound annoyed, but it comes out more flustered than anything. “You’re such a pain, Gojo.”

“Ah, but I’m your pain, right?” he quips back, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

You roll your eyes, but there’s no real annoyance behind it. “I never said that.”

“Well, I’m saying it." he replies, leaning in even closer until you can feel his breath against your cheek. “And I think you secretly like having me around, even if you won’t admit it.”

You’re about to protest, but the words catch in your throat when you see how close he is. His face is only inches from yours, and the playful grin has softened into something more sincere.

“I like being around you, you know?” he murmurs, his voice gentle. “Even if I drive you crazy sometimes.”

You swallow hard, your heart thudding in your chest. There’s something incredibly endearing about seeing Gojo like this—still teasing, but with a softness that makes your heart melt.He pulls back just enough to give you a bit of space, his expression turning thoughtful.

 “You know, I’ve had a lot of people in my life, but no one’s ever made me feel the way you do. It’s different with you… in a good way.”

You blink, taken aback by the honesty in his words. “Really?”

“Really.” he says, his smile warm and genuine. “You’re special to me. And I don’t want to let go of something that feels this right.”

Your heart swells at his words, and for a moment, you forget all the teasing and frustration. All you can think about is how sincere he’s being, how much he actually cares.

Gojo must notice your softened expression because he chuckles lightly, his eyes twinkling. “Now, I know this is a lot to take in, but… would you mind if I tried something?”

You tilt your head, curious. “What?”

Instead of answering right away, he reaches out with his free hand, gently brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. His touch is featherlight, almost hesitant, as if he’s waiting for your reaction. When you don’t pull away, he smiles softly and leans in closer.

“Just wanted to see if you’d let me do this.” he whispers, and before you can respond, he presses a quick, gentle kiss to your forehead.

The contact is brief, but it’s enough to send a shiver down your spine. You stare at him, wide-eyed and speechless, while he pulls back, looking pleased with himself “There,” he says with a grin. “Now you can’t say I don’t have feelings for you.”

You finally find your voice, though it comes out more like a squeak. “Y-You… Gojo!”

He laughs, not at all fazed by your reaction. “What? Too much? I thought it was pretty sweet.”

You bury your face in your hands, trying to hide the furious blush spreading across your cheeks. “You’re impossible!”

Gojo just chuckles and gently pries your hands away from your face, forcing you to look at him again. “I might be impossible, but you’re stuck with me now. So… what do you say? Think you could handle having someone like me around a little more?”

You glance at him, and despite your embarrassment, you can’t help but smile. “You’re not going to give me much of a choice, are you?”

“Not really.” he admits, his grin turning playful again. “But I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”

You sigh, but there’s no real annoyance behind it. Instead, there’s a warmth spreading through your chest that you can’t ignore. “Fine,” you say, pretending to be reluctant. “But if you keep teasing me like this, I’m going to get back at you.”

Gojo’s eyes light up, and he leans in with a smirk. “Oh, I’m looking forward to that. Let’s see if you can keep up.”

And just like that, the tension melts away, leaving you with a strange sense of contentment. You don’t have everything figured out yet, but with Gojo sitting beside you, still holding your hand, you think maybe, just maybe, you wouldn’t mind figuring it out together.

[beejunos]

SPEAK TO ME | Alastor x f.reader

Summary: Alastors voice turns you on. Something he loves to take advantage of.

FULL STORY!

Here we have it! The full story! 5k of pure smut. Enjoy darlings! Tags: Dom!Alastor, masturbation, oral, light bondage, fingering, dirty talk

Attraction was a funny thing. It could never be explained, and often, it just appeared one day. Attraction could hit you like a train in the dead of night, but sometimes, it would follow you like a shadow. Whispering sweet words in your ear without making itself too known, not until it was too late, and you realised that you had stayed awake for two hours when you should have been asleep instead of thinking about what someone's hands would feel like on your skin. 

Attraction was an annoyance, but lust, its evil twin, was irrational, unpredictable, and, worst of all, it made you stupid. 

So incredibly dumb.

The lust had crept up on you like a thief in the night. Stealing your rational mind and sanity, leaving only the body to fend off the raging attraction that wanted to sink its teeth into your tender flesh. 

Having a crush on the radio demon was a poor choice and a painful one.

It began weeks ago when you first arrived at the crumbling hotel. 

Hazbin Hotel, with its rehabilitation program, had been your last resort after your landlord, who really deserved to be in Hell, kicked you out of your apartment. 

You had been tired of fending for yourself, trying to work, feed yourself and find an apartment with a landlord who wasn't a humongous creep. It seemed to be an impossible task in Hell. It wasn't until you heard one of your coworkers talk about the interview on the news with the princess of Hell that you found out about her little redemption project.

The Hazbin Hotel appeared like a lighthouse on the horizon for you, and the prospect of a warm meal and a soft bed was too enticing to pass on.

Charlie had, of course, taken you in straight away and for the first time in days, you felt like you could finally catch your breath. 

The bath you took that evening in your own bathroom, connected to your own bedroom, was heavenly. Almost sinful with how much pleasure you took from it. 

The next day had been quite overwhelming to you, to say the least. Thrown into the middle of trust exercises with people whom you had known less than 24 hours, where you had, in the span of two hours, visited a bondage club and escaped a turf war that Vaggie had thrown you into. If that was how she had learned to trust others, then maybe you weren't cut out for redemption. 

While the other hotel residents turned out to be a wonderful company, one, in particular, made your little sinner's heart skip a beat. 

Alastor, the infamous radio demon. 

He had ... not been what you had expected. 

From all the tales you'd heard of him, you expected a grotesque monster who murdered anyone who would just look at him funny. But he couldn't have been further from the image you had created of him from all the rumours. 

First of all, he was beautiful. His soft red eyes were so hypnotising that you feared you would drown in them, with a smile showing rows of sharp teeth. One thing was for sure: Hell would contort any morals and virtues you may have had, and if you had liked the idea of lovers biting your skin during intercourse before, it was now a raving obsession. An obsession that would fule you nightly fantasies for weeks and weeks. 

Sometimes, that was the only thing you could think about, his sharp teeth grazing your neck or nibbling your ear. 

Alastor was also very charming in his own way. A gentleman by hellish standards. Whenever you were going somewhere in the same direction, he would always hold up doors for you or pull out the chair for you during dinner time. Something you were highly unused to, and it had taken a long time for you not to blush whenever he did it. 

Whilst his jokes were lame at best, the conversations you would have late at night by the fireplace were your favourite time of the day. Because you loved his voice. You really loved his voice. 

There was something so bewitching with that transatlantic accent and that strange buzzing overlay to how he spoke. It made it sound like he was far away when he was, in fact, right in front of you, and the gentle buzzing had made you tremble more times than you could count.

Something that you suspected that Alastor had caught on to with how often he would appear behind you, only to put his head right beside yours and say the most innocent things that would make you react in the most sinful ways.

The day he had started to call you 'my dear' had been a day you would never forget, for you had laid awake all night imagining him whispering those exact words in your ear as you brought yourself to climax. Again, again, and again. 

You had had a tough time the day after looking him in the eyes without thinking of all the times you had desperately whispered his name into your pillow with your fingers between your legs.

"What's this?" you asked, surprised as you sat down to eat breakfast. On the table sat a red present with a big black bow right in front of the seat you always occupied. You could recognise Rosies' gift rapping technique anywhere.

"It is a gift, my dear. Open it," answered Alastor and sat down to your right at the end of the table.

You and Alastor were always the two residents in the hotel who were awake first: You because you wanted to spend as much time as possible with the strange but charming sinner. Unfortunately, he had the habit of disappearing during the day, so you only ever had the morning and the night to talk uninterrupted with him. You also suspected that Alastor barely slept because, after your evening chats, when you went to bed, Alastor would go up to his radio tower to host his show, and you had no idea when he would end them.

You opened the gift slowly as if savouring it, trying not to get too excited about having gotten a gift from Alastor when, in reality, you just wanted to rip it open.

Inside the box was a beautiful antique radio in pristine condition. The dark wooded exterior was smooth and shiny as if someone had just polished it, and it made you almost not want to touch it in case you left fingerprints on it.

You looked up at Alastor, whose smile seemed to grow as he looked at you.

"I remember you telling me that you had never had the pleasure of hearing my radio show, and now you can listen to it whenever you want!"

At times like these, you wondered if Alastor knew of your slightly obsessive crush on him. He struck you as a man who liked to play with his food.

The radio turned out to be a great gift that you used almost religiously. Every evening, when you were preparing to go to bed, you would turn on the radio and listen to Alastor's radio show. You would have the radio on softly in the background as you walked around your room doing your nightly routine. Sometimes, you would even invent stuff for you to do so you could stay up longer just so you could listen to his voice.

It was almost like he was in the room with you, talking just to you about anything he found interesting. On the odd occasion, Alastor would incorporate a passive-aggressive threat into the show for some poor sinner getting in his way, but that never scared you. In fact, you looked forward to those instances.

Alastors' voice would drop and get darker, reminding everyone who listened that he was still dangerous—a predator waiting to strike.

A wolf in sheep's clothing, and what a stupid sheep you were. Yearning for the wolf bite.

Halfway through your night routine, you turned on your radio at a soft, pleasant volume, and Alastor's smooth voice filled the otherwise silent room. 

"Salutations, friends and hellish residents! Tonight, we have a splendid assortment of the latest news and the best Hell has to offer in jazz, but before we chitchat about our dear city's hellish affairs, here is the newest music from Miss Jezebel and The Wicked Six!" 

Slow and sultry jazz music started to play on the radio. The woman who sang had a deep, smoky quality that was inherently sexy to you. There was just something about women who sang with deep voices that made your hips sway from side to side, effortlessly dancing across your room as you started to strip, pretending there was someone there who enjoyed the show you put on. 

You turned off all the lights except the small lamp by your bed and crawled under the thick blanket. Leaving the radio on as you made yourself comfortable, hugging one of your pillows close to you. 

The song ended, and Alastor came back. This time, he started talking about the news. Since the news sometimes made you too sad to sleep, you never really listened to what he was saying; you only listened to his voice—his tone, the cadence of his speech, and his transatlantic accent. 

You let his voice wash over you like a soothing balm to your aching body, but soon, you felt the familiar tingles run up your back. Warmth pooled low within you as you shifted in your bed, lying on your back. The desire to touch and be touched grew in you, to move, to grind, to satisfy the urge for sex. 

Closing your eyes and letting your hands wander over your body, you start by slowly dragging your fingertips over your sensitive throat, making sure that your light fingertips touch all the places that made you weak. 

Your hands travel from your throat down to your chest. Palming your breasts in your hands, you drag your nails over your sensitive nipples. Pinshin, pulling and rolling them between your fingers till they are warm and hard. 

Your senses sharpen as you start to feel more intensely, but your mind goes hazy, making it hard to think clearly. Alastors voice is but background noise now that edges you on.

One hand stays on your breast as the other journeys down, down, down and under your underwear. 

You slowly drag your finger between your lips, coating your finger in your wetness as you slowly pull it towards your clit. A breathless gasp is pulled from your mouth the first time your finger comes in contact with your sensitive clit. Slowly and with the lightest touch, you start to circle the organ, and what feels like electricity builds in your loins.

You can't help but move in your bed, legs bending and toes curling as you give yourself the pleasure that you wished Alastor would provide you. Your hand that previously played with your breast joined your other hand, and you let out a not-so-subtle moan as you pushed two fingers into you. Desperately, you curl your fingers inside you to increase the pleasure. 

You want it. You need it. Your toes curl almost painfully as Alastors name falls from your lips like a prayer. 

You're so close. So close you can see stars behind your eyes. You breathlessly chase that sweet release. Building, and building, and building. Your legs are shaking as you bite your lips. Hips lift from the mattress as you fight the urge to close your legs.

You are so, so close.

"What are you doing, my dear?" 

Cold dread crashes through your body as you rip your hands away from your body. You frantically look all over your room in the shadows. Looking for that all-knowing smile and calculating red eyes. 

His voice had been so close and clear that he had to be in your room. It had felt like he had spoken to you right beside your ear. But you were alone. No one was in your room but you. 

"Such a naughty little creature you are, my dear. So desperate to be touched." 

Goosebumps travel up your back as you slowly turn in the direction you hear his voice. On your nightstand is the radio that Alastor gave you. It is still on, but the yellow light of the display has turned red. 

Towering over you in your bed, you almost feel like he is watching you. Observing you as you lay naked before him. Your blankets were by the end of the bed as you had kicked them off a long time ago. 

"Can't even listen to me talking without having to touch yourself. My oh my, what will I ever do with such a bad little doe, hm?" 

Shaking all over, you lunged for the radio's electrical cord and jerked it out of the outlet. The radio fell silent as you collapsed in your bed. Spent, but not satisfied. However, you soon start to tremble all over again over the fact that Alastor had listened to you pleasuring yourself, and he seemed to like it.

You would be lying if you said you had a good night's sleep after that fateful evening—or if you said you had slept at all.

You had stayed up all night replaying the previous night's events, unable to comprehend what you had been through. Had it really happened? Had Alastor really listened to you masturbate while you were moaning his name? It had almost felt like a fever dream had you not stared at the pulled-out electrical cord for the radio all morning.

The clock on your dresser kept ticking as you sat in your black dressing gown on your bed. The time was about to turn nine, and you had not stepped a foot outside of your bedroom, too scared to face the man after your night. You knew you had to leave your bedroom sooner or later, but you were waiting until you were sure that Alastor would have gone for the day to do whatever he usually did during the day. As soon as you were sure that you would not encounter him in the hallway, you would sneak out of your bedroom and go down to the kitchen to steal all the snacks you needed to survive the day cupped out in your own room, like the coward you intended to be. 

It was one thing to fantasise about Alastor naked, but it was a completely different thing to now face the possibility that maybe he would like to see you naked, too. 

Three knocks were heard from your door out of nowhere before Alastor slammed the door open and stepped in with a silver tray full of food in his band. You let out a small yelp before climbing further up into the bed to get away from the other sinner, who waltzed into your room as if he owned the place.

"My dear, what are you doing in bed at this hour? Don't you know that you've missed breakfast?" Alastor's voice was laced with a hint of amusement as if he found your predicament delightful. He walked over to the little table and armchair you had in front of the unused fireplace on the opposite wall to the bed and sat down the tray on the table before conjuring a matching armchair out of thin air. He sat down as if nothing was out of the ordinary and leaned his cane against the armrest as soft jazz music began playing.

As you sat on your bed, feeling increasingly uncomfortable in your underdressed state, you watched in disbelief as Alastor, seemingly unperturbed by your unease, crossed his legs and settled into your room. His casual demeanour, coupled with his humming along to the music, only served to deepen your sense of bewilderment, and you were sure that you were hallucinating. 

You must have eaten something terrible yesterday, and maybe everything you thought happened last night and now was all in your head. 

"Are you going to eat or not? Your food is getting cold, my dear." 

The look Alastor gave you from the corner of his eye told you that it was in your best interest to sit in the armchair in front of him and eat. 

You slowly left the safety of your bed and walked over to Alastor. However, the steps you took on the way were tiny, considering that your dressing gown ended in the middle of your thighs, and you didn't want to flash him accidentally. Not caring about the look you got from Alastor, you shuffled your feet across the room and sat down in the armchair, struggling as you continued to keep your legs as close together as possible. 

With shaking hands, you took the small coffee cup and were about to put it to your lips for a sip when Alastor spoke up again:

"Aren't you forgetting something, my dear?" 

The look he was giving you made shivers travel up and down your spine. Shivers dipped in fear with a hint of excitement. He had never looked at you so intensely before. 

"Thank you for bringing me breakfast," you whispered hoarsely. 

"Good girl." You almost choked on your coffee, "And you're welcome." 

You had a tough time looking into his eyes after that comment as your cheeks grew warmer and warmer. 

Without warning, Alastor began to talk about everything that needed to be done that day. Apparently, Niffty had found a cockroach infestation in the basement, and Charlie had decided they would use chemicals instead of Niffty's needle, which she liked stabbing them with. 

Alastor kept talking on and on about work and the hotel as you ate. On the outside, you kept calm as you finished the last of your breakfast, but on the inside, you wondered if he would mention what had happened yesterday. Had it even happened? 

Maybe it hadn't, and your obsessive crush had finally broken you. 

"Ah, I see that you have finished your breakfast! Well, I best be on my way!" With a snap of his finger, Alastor made the breakfast tray disappear into a red cloud. He did, however, leave the extra chair he had conjured up. 

"Could you be a doll and tell Vaggie that I'll need the documents later today and that she can leave them in the bar? I need to head out today, and I don't think I'll be back until this evening," said Alastor as he stood up, brushing invisible dust off his impeccable suit. 

"Uhm, sure. I'll do that. Just close the door when you leave, please," you answered as you looked as Alastor made way for the hallway door. He waved absentmindedly over his shoulder in affirmation of your request.

A small part of you were disappointed that this little breakfast meeting had turned out the way it had, no matter how confounding it had been. If only you could have gotten a hint from Alastor about what he was thinking and why he frankly was there.  

Maybe he had just brought you breakfast from the goodness of his heart? Or he had just missed your company that morning since you usually only got to talk uninterrupted in the morning.

You turned around to walk to the bathroom as he left your room. Letting your shoulder slump in disappointment, you wondered what you would do that day. You remembered that Charlie had mentioned that it would be nice if the hotel's garden were more well-kept but that she couldn't hire a gardener just yet. 

That could be the thing you did today. Find some gardening tools and surprise Charlie by pulling out all the weeds in the flowerbeds. 

Oh, what a joy, you thought sarcastically as you started to open the bathroom door. However, it slammed close hard in front of you as a hand shot forward and a hard chest pressed into your back. 

All around you began shadows to dance as if they were made of mist, and the air got charged with a static you were all too familiar with. The shivers came back, but your whole body shivered this time as his other hand gripped your hip, pressing you closer to him, but the only thing you could focus on was his breath fanning over your ear as he whispered:

"I will be back at eleven tonight, and when I get back, I will find you in your bed, naked, waiting on me. You are not allowed to touch yourself, and don't try to defy me, my dear, for I will know if you do." 

In a heartbeat, Alastor was gone, and your body instantly felt colder. Shaking all over, your knees finally gave away under you, and you collapsed in front of your bathroom door. 

Behind you, the radio began to play softly—the same music Alastor had played during breakfast. Looking at the blasted thing, you could see that the radio wasn't plugged in.

The clock was about to strike a quarter to eleven, and you had been a nervous wreck for the past three hours. Time couldn't have gone by slower as you constantly turned to look at the clock hands to see how far they had moved. 

You had tried to distract yourself during the day with the gardening, but you constantly got distracted by all the fantasies you had of what Alastor would do to you. Turned out that it was really hard to work when horny. 

As you looked at the clock again, you re-adjusted in your bed for what felt like the thousandth time. 22:47. 

Ugh, this is taking forever! 

Laying down again, you looked over at the radio on your nightstand. It had been quiet since the morning, but you still waited to hear the tiniest sound from it that would indicate that Alastor was with you. But nothing came. 

You turned on your side to continue staring at the radio as you took one of your pillows and pressed it against you. The air in your room was cold against your skin, yet you ignored your chilled skin, for the mere thought of what would happen tonight warmed you from the inside out. 

The benefit of laying on your side was that you now could feel the slickness between your legs, coating almost all of the insides of your thighs. You knew that Alastor had said that you were not allowed to touch yourself, but he had never specified in what way you could not touch yourself, and if you didn't get some of your release soon, you felt like you would spontaneously ignite.   

Slowly, you started to press your legs together as you rubbed them against each other. Sweet pressure was building up the pleasure within you as you pressed your face into the pillow. Harder and harder, you tried to push your legs together, increasing the pleasure you had longed for all of them. 

Close, you were so close, and the excitement of defying Alastor just heightened the experience. 

You only needed one more push until you would fall over the edge into sweet release, but it never came as something grabbed onto your ankles and roughly pulled your legs apart. 

"I must say, I am really disappointed in you, my dear." 

From the shadows stepped Alastor out and looked down at you from the end of the bed, but what scared you the most was that he was not smiling. 

Looking down at you from heavily hooded eyes, Alastor dragged your body further down the bed, keeping your legs spread out with the help of his shadow tentacles. 

"I'm so sorry! I didn't mean it," you pleaded, hoping he would show you mercy, but from the looks of it, you would not be shown any. 

"Don't lie to me. You know very well what you did." With a snap of his finger, the armchair Alastor had conjured earlier that day dragged across the floor and stopped behind him. He sat down and made himself comfortable, looking over at you as he had a full view of between your legs.

"Now, darling, since you didn't listen to me, there will be consequences," said Alastor, crossing his legs and leaning his head in his hand lazily. You pressed up on your elbows to look over at him, and while his body language did not look interested, his eyes were sharp, focusing on your wetness that glistened in the light from the chandelier.

"One, you are not allowed to touch me." 

"What?!" you cried, the fear that you had ruined your only chance with Alastor burning within you like a forest fire. 

"Silence." You instantly shut your mouth as static filled the air and prickled your skin. Alastor's antlers had grown in size. He sighed and continued when he was sure that you would not say one more word.

"As I was saying, you are not allowed to touch me, but I can touch you however I want. If you wish me to stop, you will simply say television. Understod?" 

"Yes."

"Yes, and?" 

"Yes, sir?" You weren't sure what Alastor wanted to hear, but from the smirk that started growing on his lisp, you were sure that you had said the right thing. 

"What a good little doe you are, my dear." Whilst you were sure that was said condescendingly, you could not help the pride that grew in you that he thought you were good for him. A small yelp was pulled from your lips as you felt Alastors tentacles start to massage their way up your legs.

"You seemed to like my voice so much, my dear, that I thought you must love it if I command you as well. Isn't that what you want? For me to tell you exactly what to do to you and how to do it? Wouldn't you like to put on a show for me, darling?" 

Your brain was short-circuiting as you could not get a single word out. The only thing you could do was nod enthusiastically as Alastor's shadow tentacles gently began to play with your lips between your legs without touching your clit.

"Lovely." said Alastor, now giving you his trademark smile, "Why don't you show me how you touched yourself yesterday? I could hear those delicious sounds you made, my dear, and I want to hear them live."

And so, with shaking hands, you began massaging and caressing your body, making sure that you touched every part of your body that made you sing in pleasure. You wanted to put on a show, but you were so eager, so impatient as you played with your body that you could not bear the thought of prolonging this torture. 

You needed to be touched, and you needed it now. 

Dipping your hand between your legs, you could feel Alastors tentacles pull away from your genitals but keep a firm grip on your thighs. The first time you touched your clit was electric, as you made sure to look Alastor deep in the eyes when you did it. A soft moan from you filled the air.

Rolling the tip of your finger lazily against your clit you looked on with great satisfaction as Alastors eyes dropped from your down to your finger between your legs.

"Drag your fingers between your lips, darling, but before you do, circle your opening. Slowly without pushing in," commanded Alastor, and if you weren't delusional, you thought you heard the desperation in his voice, but his face gave nothing away. He readjusted in the chair by uncrossing his legs, giving you a full view of his hard cock in his pants. 

Never had you been filled with the need to fall on your knees and suck someone's cuck as if it was what you were created to do as you did now. You licked your lips and whined loudly as you circled the opening to your vagina with your finger, wishing it was Alastors finger or tongue that did it instead.

After circling for some time, you pulled your finger through your lips up to your clit and began touching your clit again. This time, with additional wetness, you let all the sounds you wished to make leave your mouth as you quickened the speed of your finger. 

"That's it, darling, you are doing so well." Whispered Alastor as he leaned forward in his chair, "When you feel like you're about to cum, remove your finger immediately."

The demand almost made you want to cry, but from the look Alastor was giving you, you did not want to challenge him. Savouring the feeling of your fingers a few seconds more before you removed your fingers from your clit that begged your release. The orgasm that had been at the tip of your fingers slowly fizzled out as you started to calm down. 

You looked at Alastor, who had moved from his chair to sit on the bed by your feet, waiting for his following instructions. 

"What a treasure you are, darling. So willing, so needy."

Alastor lifted his hand and, with the back of his fingers, caressed the inside of your thigh. The touch was so charged that it felt like you could cum from that mere touch alone. As your leg twitched from his touch, Alastor's tentacle tightened around your leg, pulling you closer to him. Your breath got stuck in your throat as you watched Alastor climb onto the bed, sitting on his knees between your legs.

"How long have you dreamt of this? How long have you been mine without me knowing it?" The look in Alastor's eyes grew increasingly intense as he leaned over you, looking down at you with an almost mad look in his red eyes. Out of nowhere, Alastor pushed two fingers inside of you and curled them, making your hips lift from the bed involuntarily at the pleasure. 

"How long, my dear? Answer me," he growled as his antlers grew. You could barely breathe as he continued to curl his finger repeatedly inside you, hitting the spot that made your toes curl. 

"Since... since I first met you!" you cried as your breathing quickened. Above you, Alastor chuckled darkly as he put his free hand on your left thigh. 

"So long. We have much time to catch up to, don't we, dear?" 

You could barely comprehend a single word that left his sinful mouth as you neared the orgasm you desperately wanted. And had you not made the mistake you would have made, you would have cum on Alastors finger. 

In your lustful haze, you placed your hand on Alastors arm, holding your thigh. Instantly, Alastor recoiled from you, and the second orgasms you had almost tipped over were ripped from you. 

"What did I say about not touching me?" 

Two new tentacles came out of nowhere and wrapped around your arms, pulling them above your head. 

As you begged and pleaded for forgiveness, the weight of your desperation was palpable. You implored Alastor not to leave you like this with every fibre of your being. The thought of losing him now was unbearable, and you knew that if he did leave, it would be the end of you.

Your legs shook from the strain of being in the same position for so long. Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill over at any moment. You were overwhelmed with emotion, your heart aching with the fear and uncertainty of what would happen next. The tension in the air was unmistakable, and you held your breath, waiting for Alastor's response.

But he only looked at you from under heavy lids. Slowly, he lifted his hand that had fingered you and licked the wetness that was still on it. 

"If you think I would leave you now, my dear, you are indeed mistaken. You are mine now, and I will do with you as I please." Grabbing both of your legs under your knees, Alastor pulled you towards him before bending you backwards so your toes almost touched the bed beside your hands. He stared deep into your eyes as he put his tongue against you and licked you from your vaginas opening up to your clit. The sound you made had been ungodly and would have been a miracle if no one else in the hotel had heard you. 

Alastor quickly started to suck and lick your clit as your legs began to shake. You could feel the sinner's claws dug into your flesh as he grew increasingly frantic in his administration, acting almost like someone who had just been presented with a glass of water after 12 days in the desert. 

Pressure built up within you for the third time, this time stronger and more intense than the previous ones. Closer and closer, he took you to the edge you wished to fall from. 

Shaking, twisting, and pulling against your restraint, you let Alastors name fall from your lips loudly as you looked at him, giving you pleasure. Blood was dripping down from your thighs where his claws had dug into your skin, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was the sweet release that you begging for. 

"Close, Alastor, I'm so close," the words tumbled out of you in a whisper as you looked on as the man licked your clit with the tip of his tongue. The only thing Alastor did was briefly look up at you as he continued to give you pleasure. 

Closer, closer, and then you fell. 

The orgasm ripped through your body like a tidal wave, making your thighs tremble uncontrollably. Your toes curled almost painfully as you threw your head back in ecstasy.

You had no idea when Alastor had put your legs back down, but suddenly, when you came to it, he was sitting by your head, gently brushing your hair from your sweaty forehead. 

"What a good little doe you were for me, my love." 

Thank you for reading my little story! I hope you like it!

Taglist: @mossingvines @kitty-kei @chibistar45

[les4elliewilliams]

Unwanted attraction // e.w

coworker!ellie ✗ fem reader

cw/wc: 11k ; tried to proofread it but im blind asf and i need glasses so!! smut, swearing, strap on sex r!receiving, oral r!receiving, also mention of ellie receiving it but i was too lazy to write that part (possibly gonna make a few drabbles about it in the future, who knows) fingering r!receiving, angst. enemies to lovers trope :')

a/n: i'm well aware my silly goofy goose is the sweetest baby ever but imagine if she hated you, what would it be like? (besides trying to kill you and hunting you down ofc, let's remember this is AU) idk been daydreaming about it.

highly inspired by a bot on Chai ( *︾▽︾)

¡! daily click・palestine masterpost・do not buy any game from naughty dog, neil druckmann is a zionist・more daily clicks. ¡!

☆・・・・☆ ・・・・☆・・・・☆

Rough sex on the bedroom floor

Hop in the shower, she begging for more

Do not disturb on the hotel door

✩ coworker!ellie made sure to make your life a living hell at work, whether it came to messing up with the neatly organized files on your computer or desk, complaining about everything you did, talking shit behind your back, stealing your coffee (and she didn't even like coffee, but she'd do anything to piss you off), calling you names, make fun of your clothes but at the same time checking you out whenever you bent over your desk or to pick up something from the musty floor. Such a delight she was.

✩ coworker!ellie absolutely hated how everyone seemed to love you, except her, of course. She despised how you always wore a stupid smile on your face as if nothing could ever bring you down, not even her. Your mere presence was enough to light up the whole room. She couldn't figure out what about you instantly attracted people.

✩ coworker!ellie hated how you always organized everything by color, name, and date like a freaking maniac, and obviously, she couldn't help but tease you about it.

"OCD much, baby?" "You should get this obsession of yours checked. it's not normal."

✩ coworker!ellie works as a photographer while you are a writer. Your job is to write anything that your boss asks you to write. However, Ellie often sends you the pictures you need for your works in the middle of the night or past the deadline, making sure you work overtime to finish your project. This often results in you getting yelled at by your boss the next day (which was exactly what she wanted)

✩ coworker!ellie always found something to complain about when it came to you. She disdained you and didn't even try to hide it. She would criticize everything about you, from your clothing choices to your makeup and hair. It was as if she were looking for flaws to point out and would not rest until she found something to complain about. She never seemed to give you a break, and you always felt like you were walking on eggshells around her. Despite your efforts to be friendly towards her, Ellie never reciprocated. But what she hated the most was how she couldn't actually bring herself to hate you; she hated how her body reacted whenever she let her eyes linger on your ass and tits for too long. She absolutely hated the skirts you wore almost every fucking day; it was a curse cause she couldn't despise your body.

✩ coworker!ellie hated how you talked, the sound of your voice, and how obnoxious it sounded when you spoke or giggled but secretly wondered how you'd sound beneath her, whimpering and moaning her name.

✩ coworker!ellie deeply dislikes when you gesticulate while talking and how your dimples show when you laugh at someone else's jokes in the office, especially when it's one of those stupid man. Because how stupid could you be? It was obvious that he was flirting with you with the only intent of getting into your panties.

✩ coworker!ellie gags around you whenever you walk by, and she makes sure you know how fucking disgusting you smell. How your flowery scent disgusts her; she's so pathetically disgusted by it that all she wants to do is bury her nose into the crook of your neck.

"Who the fuck is wearing this perfume? smells fucking disgusting" "Smells like shit in here"

✩ coworker!ellie always finds a way to put the blame on you when she screws up, especially when her boss is pretty pissed at her and is complaining about how she's not responsible enough and doesn't pay attention to detail.

✩ coworker!ellie will talk over you during meetings, even when she had been quiet the whole time. The moment she decides to speak up is when you take the initiative to do so. What a coincidence.

✩ coworker!ellie would often mock and make fun of you whenever you mispronounced something.

"You hear yourself? Like, ever?" "Princess' forgetting grammar today, isn't she?"

✩ coworker!ellie constantly makes rude and disrespectful comments about your ideas and contributions saying shit like

"That sounds like a stupid idea. But what were we expecting from you?" "Do you ever make yourself useful?" Your boss and everyone else in the room had enough of the ongoing rivalry between you two and they would always tell her to suck it up and take it outside. That's how things usually went: she'd say something mean, and you couldn't let her have the last word. You were always nice to everyone but you eventually grew tired of her ugly attitude and how unmotivated it was. Cause why the fuck was she so snappy about everything? What have you ever done to her? Easy. Absolutely nothing.

✩ coworker!ellie has never invited you to any of their coworkers' hangouts. She always came up with excuses to avoid inviting you, and the best part was that you knew nothing about it; she'd make excuses like

"She told me her grandma is sick" "I dunno, she said she already had plans" "She's dogsitting this weekend" Imagine how worried your coworker Dina was about your grandma. The poor girl was so concerned that she had to reach out to you and ask about it. What if you needed a friend to talk to? You knew she would always be there for you no matter what, but that's beside the point. Ellie most likely didn't consider Dina walking up to you to ask about your grandma, or maybe she did; it's not like she cared. Her sole purpose appeared to be provoking you anyway. "yn, how's your grandma doin'?" she had this soft, worried tone going on "My…grandma?" you looked puzzled and tilted your head slightly, trying to make sense of what was going on cause what the fuck was she talking about? Your grandparents weren't even around anymore. "Oh, but last Friday Ellie said…" she trailed off, finally connecting the dots. "Y'know what? I think I misunderstood." she quickly brushed off the awkward situation with a chuckle, realizing that adding more fuel to the rivalry you two had going on was pointless. she decided that from now on, she would be the one to invite you to their girl nights out. Imagine Ellie's surprise when she saw you enter the restaurant Dina had chosen, the brunette giving Ellie a mischievous smile from across the table.

✩ coworker!ellie can't help but look at your ass whenever she'd get the chance, the way you walked, the sway of your hips. She had always wondered what kind of underwear you wore and of what color. As much as she despised you, she wanted to know everything about you. What made you icky, what didn't. What was your type, what made you horny and desperate. Those kinds of things, ordinary things, basically. And she really couldn't stop fantasizing about you, imagining herself fucking you from behind, smacking your ass hard enough to leave marks on it, all five fingers.

✩ coworker!ellie couldn't quite figure out your sexuality. You were so friendly to everyone and she couldn't count on her gay-radar at all. She claimed that thing was pure bullshit cause she always ended up pursuing straight women. (such a loser)

✩ coworker!ellie felt like she had won the lottery the moment she caught you checking out your new coworker, who happened to be a girl. She couldn't pinpoint why she felt that way, she hated you after all, right?

✩ coworker!ellie spilled your pumpkin spice latte all over the scattered papers on your desk the same day out of…jealousy?

"Why the fuck would you do that?!" you raised your voice at her and promptly grabbed some paper tissues to fix the damage she had done. "Do what, princess? it was a mistake, chill out." she flatly said, veiny hands stuffed into her pockets, doing absolutely nothing to help you. She just stared at you with a cocky grin on her face, feeling proud of herself "It tastes like burnt shit anyways, dunno why you drink it." her nonchalance was making you even more furious than you already were

✩ coworker!ellie unconsciously licks her lips when you cross your legs and your skirt moves up just a bit enough for her perverted mind to think of all the filthy things she'd do to you if she didn't hate you so much.

✩ coworker!ellie who whistled whenever you bent over. And as soon as you straightened up, ready to go off on her, you noticed that she had this poised and confident look on her face. It was evident that she had anticipated your reaction and had an answer prepared for whatever you had to say to her, and to be quite honest, she mostly did it to get on your nerves.

"What do you expect me to do? You clearly bend over like that for me to notice." "Think I don't know you doin' this just to put on a show f'me?" "You bend over like a slut every single time I walk by. Thought I wouldn't notice?" and she wasn't even wrong. Despite claiming not to like you, you noticed the way she looked at you and you liked it, loved it even. It was quite entertaining how she tried so hard to convince herself that she did not like you one bit. Pathetic.

✩ coworker!ellie completely forgot you were on a business trip the moment she realized you had to share the same bed.

You were both sent on a 'business trip' by your boss and were assigned a hotel room to share for the duration of the trip. The hotel your boss sent you to was not of the best quality, to say the least, and to make matters worse, you realized that you had to share the same bed with Ellie. The situation caught you off guard, and you could sense the awkwardness in the air. You knew that sharing a room was part of the trip, but neither of you expected to have to share the same bed.

He must be out of his mind, was the first thing that crossed your mind.

When you called him to complain about his terrible choice, his dismissive comment made you even more furious "You're both women, I don't see why this is an issue."

Don't see why this is an issue my ass. Working with Ellie was already the worst thing ever, but sleeping with her? the universe or whoever must be playing a cruel joke on you because what were the chances? Plus, Ellie was being her usual self with that attitude, which obviously wasn't helping at all; you weren't gonna have any of it. "Just fucking great, I gotta share the bed with you" emphasizing the 'you' just to make you feel like a disgusting piece of trash that she absolutely despised. you couldn't care less; her petty comments didn't amuse you anymore. In all honesty, you were used to her ugly attitude. When you first started working with her, her hateful comments really got to you. You would break down as soon as you returned to your cozy apartment, making you feel like something was wrong with you. However, your other coworkers reassured you that she was like that with everybody, so you learned to accept it. Kind of. She still made your life miserable whenever she could, but you honestly loved this job. You had worked hard to get where you were, and you didn't see a point in giving up just because little miss hated you a bit too much. She dropped her suitcase by the door and slammed the door shut "You can always crash on the floor," you said back, mimicking her annoyed tone.

As you stood there, she turned to face you, and you could see the anger in her eyes. She shot you a death glare, and her lips were pressed tightly together. "I'm not a fucking doormat" she snapped, her voice laced with frustration and anger, like always.

You couldn't help but huff and roll your eyes at her behavior "Then shut your fucking mouth and stop throwing a tantrum like a little kid" Despite her scarred brows furrowing in anger, you couldn't resist the urge to call her out on her tantrum. Just as she was about to snap back at you, you cut her off with a simple "I'm gonna shower." You walked over to the bed, unzipping the suitcase you had thrown on it earlier. Your fingers searched for your pink cherry-patterned pajamas, which you had smartly placed on top of all your daily clothes for easy access. It was just one of the many small things you calculated and organized in your daily life. And, of course, she despised this aspect of your personality too; she hated how organized you were, everything you did, every gesture, every word; it always was so calculated, while she was more spontaneous (another word for impulsive) and never cared enough about how unorganized she was. As you disappeared into the bathroom to shower, she couldn't resist the temptation to rummage through your suitcase, hoping to find something interesting. An amused smile appeared on her face when she found sexy black lingerie; it was just what she was expecting you to wear underneath those slutty skirts you wore almost every day at work. Being the sneaky little mf she was, she put everything back the way you left it so you wouldn't suspect a thing. "Borrowing" a pair of your panties, a souvenir.

When you stepped out of the bathroom, you noticed that she had already changed into her comfortable pajamas. She was wearing a pair of black boy shorts and a t-shirt from what seemed to be a band she loved. The shirt looked worn out, the colors faded, but you could still make out the logo of the band, it was a casual yet charming sight. Despite her best efforts to control herself, she found herself unable to resist the urge to stare at you intently, your soft curves, and how the cherry-patterned shorts hugged your ass as the top fell loose over your boobs. It didn't take her too long to notice that you weren't wearing a bra, nipples peeking through the thin fabric of your top, but she forced herself to look away.

"D'you ever take a shower?" you quipped as you strolled to the right side of the massive bed "I took a shower earlier today. Besides, I don't smell bad, so there's really no reason to," she walked to the other side of the bed while trying her best to avoid making eye contact with you. "You gotta shower before getting into bed, it's just gross not to," you scolded her in a mom-like tone, making her roll her eyes in response. "Don't boss me around. I don't need a shower. I smell just fine." she said. You were getting on her nerves again, and you could tell from her annoyed tone; she never liked feeling judged or being told what to do. So, you decided to drop it — too tired to start another argument. You let out a sigh and collapsed onto the soft mattress, feeling instant relief in your back. Your gaze was fixed on the ceiling, "Well, at least it's comfy," you muttered to yourself, as she climbed in next to you and grumbled, "I guess so" and turned away from you, yanking the covers over her head.

The room fell silent, both of you trying your best to ignore each other's presence. You shut your eyes, and so did she. Over 10 minutes passed, and you were still wide awake; why were you suddenly struggling to fall asleep? You were convinced that the little stinky beside you was sleeping, but she wasn't. The little cunt scooted closer to you, secretly enjoying the heat radiating off your body, making sure to keep her eyes shut in the process so you'd think she was sleeping.

She pressed her back against yours, and as much as it felt nice, you shifted uncomfortably and moved again. Your attempt to create distance between both of you turned out to be a complete failure; she kept scooting closer each time you moved away. "You're gonna make me fall out of bed, Ellie," you whined, shoving her away from you. Her eyes shut open, she muttered, "Oh, sorry," and tried to move away from you. But she found herself unable to do so for some reason. She longed for your touch and warmth, realizing that it was a pathetic situation to be in because she hated you; she couldn't feel this way towards you, so why was she? Instead of moving away, she inched closer to you, seeking comfort in your warm body against her cooler, freckled skin.

You huffed again in annoyance and turned onto your side to look at her, realizing how close you two were. "What" you asked flatly; she slowly rolled onto her other side to face you. She blinked slowly, her emerald green eyes taking in your features. You weren't so ugly after all, she thought to herself. She could feel your breath on her face. "Uh, nothin'." She didn't want to admit how comfortable she was with the closeness, feeling your soft skin against hers. "We are not gonna cuddle," you stated firmly. "No, of course not," she agreed quickly, not wanting to push things further either, deep down yearning for something more than just cuddles. She settled back into her spot, trying to ignore the slight disappointment that fluttered in her stomach "Stay on your side of the bed, s'not that hard." the tone of your voice was firm and slightly irritated, "Fine," the auburnette girl muttered under her breath, rolling onto her other side again. She shut her eyes, trying to ignore your presence as you both lay there in silence.

You faced away from her, your eyes shut, trying to focus on something other than the tension you felt in the pit of your stomach. You considered facing the pillow or lying on your side, but your legs felt restless. You wondered if there was a solution to ease your discomfort. The girl beside you groaned softly, annoyed with your constant shifting, her eyes fluttering open as you kept tossing and turning. You heard her sigh heavily, rolling over onto her back and facing the ceiling again "Look, I know you're not used to me or anything-" she started but you were quick to cut her words off "Yeah, I am not" you sighed frustrated and mimicked her position, your eyes glued on the ceiling that seemed to be the most interesting thing ever at that moment.

Ellie turned her head slightly to look at you, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. "Well, I guess we could try something different then," she softly said, her voice conveying anything but innocence. A subtle hint of mischief seemed to accompany her words, indicating that she had something specific in mind. Your head turned as soon as she spoke, brows furrowing at her words, "What do you have in mind, Williams?"

"I could help you...relax," she replied confidently, a sly grin never leaving her face. She moved closer to you, her green eyes are fixed on yours. Her heart raced a little faster as she waited for an answer, your consent, anything. Was she fucking out of her mind? Was she suggesting what you thought she was?

You scoffed, "What the fuck, Ellie? 'm not gonna fuck you." you replied sharply, squinting your eyes at her; she groaned softly and hovered over your body, propping herself up on her elbows. "C'mon angel, scared you'll like it?" a cocky grin glued on her face as she spoke confidently almost as if she knew what she was doing. She chuckled softly when you didn't reply, leaning closer until your bodies were pressed against each other, her hand gently stroking your waist "Just let me try," she whispered. Her cold hand sent shivers down your spine when she slid it under your tank top, your warmth seeping into her skin, igniting a fire within her. She had always wanted to touch you like this, even if she hated your guts. She leaned in slowly, eyes locked on your moist, plump lips. Never in your wildest dreams did you think you would kiss the girl who pissed the shit out of you daily, let alone fuck her.

Your lips met hers, you felt a strange sensation in the pit of your stomach and chest, like a fluttering feeling. It was as if every fiber of your being was electrified with the touch, and soon, soft and slow kisses turned into a whole makeout session. Her tongue slid into your mouth, and you gladly let her explore every inch of it, her callous fingers gently exploring every inch of your skin and your fingers grasping her messy bun, you still fucking hated her. A series of conflicting thoughts ran through your mind, making it difficult for you to focus on anything. Part of you wanted to pull away, while the other part was eager to explore this, whatever it was. Your grip unconsciously tightened into her auburn locks, slightly pulling her hair. "You little bitch" she muttered under her breath when she pulled away from the kiss, your lips mere millimeters apart, only connected by a string of saliva, "You're a little bitch" you were panting slightly from the intense makeout session "You're fucking obnoxious" she replied without missing a beat. However, this time, no hint of annoyance laced in her voice; her voice was husky and sultry, and she looked at you with such a desire, one that you've noticed before, but she was acting on it this time. Her hand began to tug at your shorts, pulling the soft material down. "And you're not?" you scoffed, your eyebrows raised as you stared back into those green orbs of hers. "Keep talking like that angel, see what happens," she warned you with a sly grin. "Why, what are you gonna do?" you challenged, but she seemed to ignore your question, for now at least.

She didn't waste time, calloused fingers pressing against your clothed cunt as she discarded your favorite pajama shorts somewhere in the dimly lit room. A soft sound escaped your swollen lips, making her smirk in amusement. "I barely even touched you," she teased you, her fingers tracing your soaked and still clothed slit. Your pussy has never been wetter, and you hated how skilled she seemed to be with her hands, how wet you became as soon as she touched and kissed you; almost as if your body had been craving for her touch. "Shut the fuck up," you hissed, only causing her to press her digits on your throbbing clit; she observed you; it was like she was analyzing your every move and reaction. She watched you squirm beneath her. "Aww look at you, baby. Want more?" she purred, her mocking grin taunting you, making you pout and nod frantically. You needed more. Your cunt was starting to hurt and clench around absolutely nothing, you needed her fingers and you couldn't help but feel extremely embarrassed by it. You needed her fingers. The fingers of the girl you hated the most. fuck.

She let out a dry chuckle and slowly shook her head, a few loose auburn strands falling onto the sides of her face "That's not how it works, you can do better than that, I know it." she encouraged you. it was all she needed to hear, all her ears craved to hear, you begging for her, begging for her to destroy your pussy.

As stupid and absurd as it sounded, you were only hers in her mind. She had never laid a finger on you before, but you belonged to her. She wanted to be the only girl in your life, the one you relied on; the worst part was that she couldn't even explain why she felt that way towards you. Why you out of all people? she didn't have the answer to that. She loved getting reactions out of you, getting you all riled up and fuming red, that's what she knew. But tonight, she was lucky enough to explore a new side of you. She wanted to absolutely destroy you. She wasn't gonna be gentle; after all, she still despised you.

You let out a soft groan when she pulled her hand away from your core, leaving you wanting more "Please?" you mumbled. Your voice was soft, timid almost. You hated that she was putting you into this position, and that it had to be her out of all people. She had you wrapped around her finger already and you couldn't even understand why. She expressed her disapproval with a subtle clicking sound of her tongue, shaking her head just enough to convey her dissatisfaction. It wasn't enough. She needed more, better.

Her faint smirk suggested that she found the whole thing quite amusing. "Please, Ellie..." you tried again, you could see the irritation build on her face, she let out a long sigh and rolled her eyes in frustration. "Cat got your tongue, or what?" she asked, her voice tinged with impatience "I need you to be specific. Tell me exactly what you need from me."

Despite your usual confidence, you found yourself letting out an airy huff, almost as if to release some of the tension you were feeling. Beneath her, you felt so insignificant, so vulnerable. How her green eyes studied you made you feel so exposed, you needed her more than anything. Your underwear was damp, and the uncomfortable throbbing was getting worse by the second "I want you to fuck me, Ellie," you blurted out, a mischievous grin spread across her face, her eyes sparkling with amusement and desire. "Is that any better?"

"Good girl," she praised you. You could feel her fingers pulling your underwear down, leaving you bare from the hips down, you still had your tank top on but she was planning on taking it off soon, she was yearning to play with your tits, it was all she ever fantasized about. "Relax, okay?" she whispered due to the closeness, her face dangerously leaning into your neck. You could feel her taking in your scent, the same scent she claimed to hate so much, and soon attacking your neck with damp kisses. You tilted your head to the side and let her, as her fingers began to rub your aching nub, making you gasp at the contact, her hands were so cold, it almost made your hips jerk away, but she held you in place with her other hand, pressing her weight onto you to keep you down. Every little movement you made encouraged her to continue. Soft and small gasps left your lips. You quickly bit into your lower lip to keep yourself quiet, suddenly feeling pathetic for letting her do whatever she wanted to you.

"You know how long I've wanted to play with you like this, hm?" she purred into your neck, her fingers drawing slow circular motions on your clit, tracing your slit just to tease you "Fuck, you're soaked..." she murmured under her breath, more to herself than to you, taking note of every reaction you had to her touch. "You're a jerk, you know that right?" your voice came out softer than what you expected, it was impossible to be mad. How could you even be mad at her? She was making you feel so good. "Am I?" she slid a finger inside you, she could hear a few stifled moans coming from you, almost as if you were too proud to show her that she was touching you just in the right places, still struggling to believe you were letting her touch you. "Y-yes. I fucking hate you" you continued, trying to sound as mad as possible, she inserted another finger and began to pump them in and out of you "Why are you letting me touch you like this, then?" she had this sarcastic and taunting tone that would've usually made you mad if she wasn't fucking you right now. "Cause— can't sleep," you stammered out, and she chuckled at your words, amusement etching across her features "Yeah, that's obviously why you're letting me fuck you" She couldn't help but find this funny. You were always so confident, acting like she had no power over you and had her believing she couldn't bring you down no matter what, that whatever she did to you was useless...until now. So finger drunk, you needed her; it only served to boost her ego, making her realize that you weren't so bulletproof and unreachable after all.

"You dress like a fucking slut. Why do you even dress like that, hm? So that Luke guy can drool over you?" It was as if a floodgate had opened, and all her pent-up thoughts suddenly came pouring out as she kept finger-fucking you, her thumb teasing your clit every now and then. "L-luke?" You echoed her words perplexed, wispy brows furrowing together as you struggled to keep yourself quiet. You couldn't even fucking remember a guy named Luke, yet, there she was, acting like a jealous girlfriend while fucking you. "Yeah, Luke —fuck. you have an idea of how bad I've been wanting to bend you over your stupid desk and fuck you hard?" Her tone was rough, her voice dripping with jealousy and perhaps possessiveness, not that she had any right to act that way. "I thought you hated me" She snorted at your words, her eyes darkening with desire and a small grin on her face. "I still fucking hate you, don't be pathetic" she snarked out, pumping her fingers harder and deeper into you, curling her digits ever so slightly; she had your legs trembling like crazy and whining like the slut you were. "Hmm—fucking hate you back" you managed to say between a few whimpers. "Y'know what?" she abruptly pulled her fingers out of you, earning a small groan from your part "No no no" you complained, your voice laced with desperation as a small frown appeared on your features. "Take your top off," she commanded without giving you a further explanation "Your bra too." she added. You watched as she rose from the bed, and made her way over to where her backpack lay, discarded on her side of the bed. You followed her movements with your eyes, curious about what she was looking for. She rummaged through the bag's contents for a few moments before pulling out whatever she needed. A fucking purple strap. "Let's see if I can make you hate me even more." You could not look away, keeping your eyes glued on her as the auburnette stripped down her clothes with a purpose. Your eyes remained locked on her body as she moved and shifted, removing her clothing one piece at the other. You watched her put on her strap-on, her body was more muscular and toned than you expected, her well-defined abs making you almost salivate at the sight. "And you expect me to take that shit?" you blunted out, pointing at the long silicone dick standing erect, attached to her body, her v-line prominent "You're gonna take every inch of it, pretty," her tone was demanding, leaving you no room to argue with her decision.

"Yeah, that's not gonna happen." you firmly retorted, completely reluctant at the idea, but she was already straddling your lap, spreading your legs wide to adjust you into the position she wanted. If anything, your reluctance only seemed to spark a playful glint in her eyes. She was clearly intent on having her way with you. "You gonna be a good girl f'me." She hushed you, holding the shaft still and licking her lips hungrily as she peered at your wet entrance. You squirmed and tried to close your legs but she wouldn't let you. She quickly spread them apart again, her fingers digging into the soft flesh of your inner thighs as she pinned them down to the mattress. "Nah-uh. Spread 'em open f'me, princess. I won't hurt you, promise." Her tone slightly shifted into more gentle one, and her eyes hungrily glazed over you. You let out a shaky breath and tried to relax all the tensed muscles in your body; she made you feel so vulnerable in that position. "Ready?" She asked before pushing the tip in, slowly, stretching your pussy out so good "Ahh, shit" you hissed, eyes shutting immediately at the new sensation, you weren't prepared for it. "Hurts?" you shook your head to reassure her. "Hurts good." She smirked, enjoying the feeling of power that she had over you. She started to thrust in slowly, only pushing an inch in every two minutes, allowing your cunt to adjust to it. She groaned softly, watching you squirm under her, enjoying how much you wanted it from her. "You're so fuckin' soaked, it's going in so easily" she commented, chuckling at your state. You were indeed fucking soaked, your juices dripping down your pussy, making a mess on the sheets. You arched your back when half of her strap was in, pushing your hips down to allow the strap to slip deeper into you, your cervix suddenly yearning for it. You gasped when the slight pain immediately turned into pleasure, your legs were shaking like crazy, so fucking pathetic; she loved the messy state she got you in. "Look at you, god" her voice above a whisper as she took in your naked body and the glistening strap that was sliding in and out of you. "Oh my god," you moaned, wrapping your legs around her waist to push her deeper into you, your eyes rolling to the back of your head; all this pleasure was almost unbearable, but it wasn't enough for her. Her head lowered just enough to take your neglected hard nipples into her mouth, sucking on them. You could feel the tip of her tongue circling the hard nub before releasing it with a pop, switching to the other nipple to give it equal attention. Your boobs were better than she had imagined, so fucking beautiful.

"Always bending over when I walk by. Was this what you were trying to achieve?" she rasped out, slamming her dick into you hard. "Ellie!" a muffled cry escaped your lips as the corners of your eyes filled with unshed tears began to glisten, seeing you like this was one of her favorite things. You were so pretty and desperate, she couldn't get enough. The tip of her purple cock was hitting your cervix just right; obscene moans, a symphony of lustful ardor flooded the air filling the hotel room. "I asked you a question, baby" She grasped your chin firmly and forced you to meet her gaze. Your head swiveled back and forth, your brows quivered under her unrelenting gaze. A soft sniffle emanated from your nose as you attempted to produce a clear response "N-no," but both of you knew that wasn't the truth. You were acutely aware of how she gazed at you with unbridled desire and hunger. The way her emerald orbs scrutinized every inch of your body left you flustered, almost as if she could devour you with just her gaze and you couldn't help but like it.

The strap sliding out as she said "Dunno, sounds like a lie to me" only to slam it back in even harder than before, causing you to squeal. Tears welled up, their weight unbearable on your eyelids. "P-please, I can't…" you pleaded with a feeble voice; it was almost imperceptible to the ear, but she could hear it loud and clear. Her ears were enhanced, honed in on the sound of every little gasp that escaped your mouth, each breath you took, every moan of pleasure. "Can't what, huh?" She appeared to be playing dumb, fully aware of the intense feelings coursing through every fiber of your body. As she moved in and out of you faster and faster, she could not help but feel the heat radiating from every inch of your skin, making her own body burn with desire. She knew that she had complete domination over you, that she had reduced you to nothing more than a helpless puppet at her mercy; she had you crying and moaning like a porn star. "Feeling good, angel?" Your cute whimpers only added fuel to her desire, fueling her to go harder and harder. Her fingers dug into the soft, warm fat of your hips, and her nails sank into the flesh, leaving small crescents behind on your skin. She was not being soft or gentle anymore. Instead, she was rough with you, enjoying her domination and relishing in the feeling of having her way with you.

"Gonna cum on my cock, yeah?" she purred, sending a chill up your spine as her words penetrated your ears, your body was completely at her mercy, and it seemed as though she was the only thing that existed at that moment "No one's gonna fuck you better than me," and you knew she was right. She could feel your walls clenching around her, almost as if you were trying to trap her in. She could tell you were about to cum. The familiar sensation of the knot snapping overcame you, causing you to cry out her name. Your polished nails dug into her back, drawing faint, pink-ish lines that would remain there until the next morning. For some reason, she loved the idea of having a small reminder of what you two had done together on her body. Like a souvenir, one which would bring back fond memories each time she looked at it; Ellie was secretly a sucker for that kind of stuff. Her body pressed closely against yours, her heartbeat as frantic as yours. You could feel every breath she took as she panted on your bare shoulder, the heat of her breath filling your senses and your skin tingling under her touch.

As your high began to fade, she pulled out of you, bringing you back down to earth and back to reality. "Fuck" She breathed out, slowly sinking down next to you on the mattress. You just stared up at the ceiling, completely exhausted and out of breath "Best ride of your life, huh?" both of you were exhausted, but of course, she couldn't resist the urge to tease you a bit more, "Yeah, not bad" You tried to retain the facade of being unemotional and cool, but you were still feeling the aftereffects, your body still trembling "Not bad? I think you have a hard time admitting your feelings" You scoffed at the words; you didn't want to boost her ego and risk her teasing you even more the following day. Your voice stayed calm and composed, but your body language was betraying you. "My feelings for you? I hate you. Nothing more"

"Hate me so much you came all over my dick" She taunted you playfully, a mischievous grin tugging at the corner of her lips. Her eyes never left yours for a second, a gaze that was intense and tantalizing. Eventually, you turned to your side to face her, the side of your face sinking into the soft pillow, still blushing from the previous activities, a display of your vulnerability and sensitivity that was hard to hide. Her playful demeanor and teasing were making it difficult for you to keep your cool. "Why do you even go around with that thing?" You couldn't help but ask her the question that had been lingering in your mind the moment she pulled it out of her backpack. "Was planning to use it, obviously," She gestured with her hands as she explained herself. "Not with you, of course." She was quick to add, as if she had predicted the questions that were going to come next from you and you raised your eyebrows at her, your body language showing some skepticism about her answer. Such a fucking liar she was. Sure, she brought it everywhere she went just in case, but she totally dreamt of using it with you, her dirty mind filled with fantasies about the ways she could use it with you. "Such a dick," You rolled your eyes and turned away from her. You could hear her snicker at your words. Unexpectedly, she pulls you closer, her bare chest pressing against your back. Both of you are still sweaty from the night's activities, and you can feel her body heat radiating onto you, her arms wrapped around you tightly. "What're you doin'?" You groaned in protest, trying to get away from her grip. You wanted her to let you go, but at the same time, you couldn't help but feel the urge to lean into her touch, a contradiction between your internal feelings and your physical body's reaction. She ignored you and kept hugging you, pulling your body against hers. Your breath hitched as you felt her touch and her body against you. "Spoonin' the shit outta you," She was so nonchalant about it that it drove you crazy. It was almost as if she never really tried to make your life miserable every day. But you couldn't help the flutter in your stomach, your cheeks getting warmer and hotter by the simple gesture. Your body was reacting to her touch without you even realizing which was an unexpected yet welcome feeling. You were thankful for everything that she couldn't see your flushed state. "Yeah, whatever," you grumble, trying to sound pissed off although you're actually feeling quite the opposite. "Sleep well, pretty," She mumbled tiredly, sending a wave of confusion through your body as her lips brushed your shoulder. It was a small gesture, one that should not have warranted this level of reaction. But your body had other ideas. A wave of butterflies erupted in your belly, making you feel a bit dazed for a moment and smile like an idiot.

The following days were filled with unspoken tension and the usual bickering. But this time it was different. There was something more lingering in the air, as though that night you had together had changed the feeling between the two of you. Although the change was subtle, it was there and could not be ignored. She started to think that maybe, she didn't despise you as much as she thought she did, and she started to put up with your behavior as if it wasn't that annoying after all, but she never dared to share that sentiment, as she was afraid you would reject her or not see her in the same way. She would always find any excuse to touch you briefly, grope your ass or your tits, and to her surprise, you would let her; her hands would brush against your body, her grip lingering just a bit longer than necessary. And she seemed to be getting clingier, she hated not being the center of your attention, even for a second. Even though she knew you were writing an article and had a deadline to make, she could not stand it when you were so dismissive of her need for your attention. She tried distracting you by cupping your breasts, hoping to get your focus off your work, but you would just push her away each time. "i really, really, need to finish this." shooing her away like a stray dog with a wave of your hand. She took advantage of your distracted state to sneak under the small hotel desk, one of her tactics to get your attention. The warm palms of her hands gently rubbed both of your knees, a sudden contact that caught you off guard. You jolted at the sensation and pushed your chair back slightly in response, your eyes following her hands as she moved them to your knees. "What're you doing?" You asked her, perhaps with an edge of irritation in your voice, your tone tinged with annoyance and trying desperately to maintain your focus. It was the third time she tried to distract you, and although you found it cute, you needed to finish your article. "What do you think I'm doing?" She looked up at you, raising her eyes to meet yours, as she spread your legs open. She pulled you closer, her hands now roaming freely over your thighs, touching you in ways that made you tremble. It was clear that she had no intention of leaving you alone, and was willing to go to greater lengths to get your entire attention. "Ellie, I seriously need to finish this stupid article," You protested weakly, trying desperately to retain your focus and not give in to her charms. However, the way she was looking up at you from under the desk was more than enough to make you fold the slightest bit. The way her eyes glimmered with desire, the way she was holding your legs and pulling you close to her, it was all taking its toll on your body, making your pussy throb with anticipation and excitement.

"Just wanna help" She shrugged in a playful manner and acted all innocent and cutesy, but the mischievous look in her eyes said otherwise. She was teasing you, knowing full well what she was doing and how she was affecting you, she was enjoying the power dynamic and knew you would not be able to resist her. You sighed and rolled your eyes at her "Fine" You eventually gave in, unable to resist her; an expression of triumph appeared on her face as she knew that her teasing efforts had been successful. "Lean back, beautiful" She demanded softly, her hand reaching up to press on your abdomen to push your back against the chair. You helped her roll up the black skirt to give her better access to your core, making her grin even wider at your willingness. Her fingers immediately hooked onto the waistband of your panties, sliding them down slowly, revealing your pussy to her. "So fucking pretty" She couldn't help but voice her thoughts, her obsession with your pussy was clear, and she had been dreaming of tasting you ever since that night. It was a shame that she hadn't had the chance before, but she was more than determined to make up for lost time. Already two days had passed from that night and she felt like she was going crazy already.

Her soft lips kissed your inner thighs, sending shivers up your body as they brushed near your sensitive flesh. You could feel her breath as her lips touched your body, and it was an incredible sensation, driving you utterly insane. She loved driving you crazy and she was great at it. "Ellie, your teasing is getting old" You huffed trying to hide how worked up she was getting you. Every touch of her lips on your skin made your body twitch uncontrollably, every caress of her hands sent shivers through your body. Your breath was getting heavier, you could feel your body start reacting to her exploration. "Doesn't seem like it to me, especially judging by your pussy — God, so wet." Before you could even open your mouth to reply, she gave you a small, catlike lick, almost as if she was testing the waters to see how you would react. You felt a jolt through your body as she explored your wetness, sending shivers down your spine and making you squirm in your seat. When she tasted you, she could have sworn her head spun from the sensation, nothing came close to the taste of you. In a quick movement, her arms wrapped around your legs, pulling your dripping cunt closer to her face as she devoured you hungrily. The sensation of her mouth on you was almost unbearable. Her tongue flicked expertly, teasing and tasting every inch of you. The cute sounds she made against your cunt barely audible over your high-pitched moans.

She loved how responsive your body was, how wet you easily got at her touch. It made her stomach do pathetic flip-flops, feeling like a schoolgirl in love. She loved having such control over you, and it made her feel powerful. Your hands gripped the edges of the desk tightly, your breaths becoming more ragged as she continued her work. "Fuck...need—need more, please."

She knew exactly what you needed and was more than ready to provide it. She slid two fingers inside you, curling them enough to reach your g-spot with such ease that you nearly screamed. You were already struggling to keep your legs open, you could feel your orgasm nearing and she could sense it too. She continued to finger you mercilessly, her other hand holding your hip firmly in place; you always moved a lot whenever you were close; that's what she learned in the last few days. Your head rolled back, your legs tensing up as you felt a surge of pleasure coursed throughout your body. Everything was tense, and your breath heaved slowly, and your mouth hung open. Your entire body was in a state of pure ecstasy, your mind barely able to think clearly as you tried to process the overwhelming sensation. "Guh-od," you choked on your own words, the sounds of your breathing getting heavier and heavier as you came in her mouth, the slight slurping noises she made were absolutely disgusting.

When she pulled away, she was gasping for air, and you could see the satisfaction on her face as she had taken care of you. It was clear that she had enjoyed herself as much as you had, and she had absolutely no regret or shame about what she had just done. Feeling you cum on her fingers and in her mouth was even better than fucking you senseless with her strap. "You taste so fucking-" But you cut her off, grasping her hand still gripping into your hip. The sudden movement made her freeze for a moment, taken by surprise as she was still trying to process the intensity of the moment. "I wanna taste you too." You got up from your chair, pulling her up with you. You held her close to your body, your feet moving slowly towards the bed. As you walked backwards, you kept her just an inches away from your body, your grip tight around her waist. "Oh really?" She cracked a playful smile, amused by your statement, clearly in for whatever you had in store for her. When the back of your knee hit the bed, her hand gently pressed on your chest to push you down onto the bed. Everyone knew how the rest would go, you were bound to continue where she left off.

✩ coworker!ellie acted like nothing happened when your little business trip ended, and things went back to how they were. It was as if all the conversations and moments between you two never existed like she had never touched you. She went back to her usual routine of barely talking to you, and when she did, it was usually something negative. You didn't know what to make of her behavior. You expected some kind of reaction from her, but not...this.

✩ coworker!ellie would seem completely normal when you were alone, but when you were in your work environment, she became distant and aloof. She would occasionally take you out on dates and be affectionate after your hookups, but it was such a confusing situation to be in; her actions seemed to contradict each other. She'd act like a jealous girlfriend if someone approached you but she wouldn't commit to you.

She always ensured no one was around before touching you or even saying something remotely sweet to you. She'd sneak behind you and wrap her arms around your waist while you were too busy with something to notice. Her breath would hit the side of your neck, and when you tilted your head to give her easy access, she'd attack your neck with kisses. Or she'd compliment you, but it'd be in her own style and all. "You look like a slut in that" followed by a "Can't wait to fuck you tonight"

✩ coworker!ellie gave you the silent treatment for an entire week after confronting her about her confusing behavior. You couldn't help but feel frustrated by her lack of communication, and you wondered if it was worth pursuing a relationship with someone who couldn't express her feelings properly. One day, when you arrived at work, you found a beautiful bouquet of red roses sitting on your desk, accompanied by your favorite coffee.

She was leaning against your desk, patiently waiting for you to arrive. You couldn't hide your surprise, and you asked her what it was all about. "Got you a lil somethin'," she said, handing you the roses. You tried to remain calm, but you were still hurt by her previous behavior. How could she ignore you for a whole week and get you roses like nothing happened? "I'm tired of your stupid mind games" You frowned slightly "What do you want?!" You let out a frustrated sigh. "No weird shit this time, I promise" she said. "I want to make it official between us." You were skeptical, but a part of you wanted to believe her. You had strong feelings for her, and you couldn't deny that you wanted to take things to the next level, but you needed to be sure that she was serious about your relationship, so you didn't accept right away. She needed to earn it.

✩ coworker!ellie spent weeks trying to make amends and apologize, but you initially remained distant and unresponsive. She tried to win back your affection with small gifts and kind gestures, but it seemed like that wasn't enough. You only wanted her to publicly demonstrate her affection and show everyone how much she truly cared. Eventually, she seemed to get the hint and adjusted her approach. The way she asked you out was...romantic.

You were way too engrossed in organizing the papers on your desk and you failed to notice her walking up behind you. You could hear her footsteps as she entered your shared office, but you didn't expect her to approach you. You heard the door close, but you were too deep in thought, standing before your desk, your eyebrows furrowed in concentration as you sorted through the papers. Suddenly, you felt her arms wrap around you from behind, and you let out a small yelp of surprise. Her lips hovered over your neck, where she left a few gentle kisses that made you instinctively tilt your head to the side.

Her hands lowered to your hips, pushing your butt into her crotch; you pushed back slightly, trying to get away but she was just too tempting, and the feeling of her body pressed against yours was too much for you to resist. "What do you think you're doing?" You sighed, trying to sound annoyed. "I want you." Despite your body craving her touch, you knew better than to fall for her emphasis on the word 'you'. Every part of you was trying to resist, calling you to give in to the temptation of her sweet words, of her tender lips on your necks, but the rational side of you knew that this could not end well. But god, the way she was touching you, her hands fidgeting with the hem of your skirt, it was driving you crazy, she was driving you crazy.

You took hold of her hands and held them firmly to prevent further movement. "You're too much of a pussy to actually treat me right in front of other people" The moment your words left your lips, you could see them reach her and resonate with her in a way that you didn't quite expect. She was visibly taken aback, but she didn't stop what she was doing. "I told you I want you. I'm more than serious," she insisted, her tone serious and unwavering. Her hands lifted your skirt slightly, causing you to immediately glance towards the locked door. "Here? Now?" you internally panicked, and she could feel your body tensing up in her hands, but she hushed you. "Everyone's on a break, no one will walk by," whispering tantalizing words into your ears that set your body on fire and made your heart race. "Just keep it quiet, we'll be quick" so you gave in cause how could you not? the way she kept pushing your ass closer to her pussy was just enough for you; her body language screamed desperate, and honestly, so did yours.

Her lips kept kissing your neck, and she knew exactly where the sweet spot was; she knew your body like the back of her hand. Her hands slowly trailed over your body, cupping your breasts and squeezing them, massaging them in circular motions through the fabric. A stifled whimper echoed in the small office and you could feel yourself getting wet, your pussy throbbing like crazy already. "Y-you can't just...do this and act distant when we're in public" she already had you stuttering and struggling to keep your breath even, your voice coming out a lot softer than intended, making her smirk against your soft skin. "I want you" She repeated, her tone serious and sultry, like a serpent tempting you with her words, luring you in with her touches; you sighed at her words. "What kind of I want you are we talking about?" You watched her hands roam all over your body, and they seemed to have a life of their own. She pressed your back into hers, her tattooed arm trailing down to your skirt, sliding under it and inside your panties. "I want to fuck you, I want you to cum on my fingers, and I want you to be mine," you gasped when her fingers found your clit with such ease, rubbing it "Be yours?" You uttered weakly, trying to contain your whimpers. The sensation of her touch was too intense for you to keep quiet, and every little sound you made felt like a confession; you wanted this, you wanted her hands on you, and you wanted her lips. She hummed back in response. "Be mine."

"Ellie, I want to be your-" You let out a slight moan as she rubbed your throbbing nub faster, sending waves of pleasure through your body. Your hands reached out to grip the edge of the desk to support yourself as your poor legs were starting to give up. The feeling was overwhelming, almost as if she was controlling every inch of you with her touch, and your body was telling you that you had no control anymore. "What was that, huh?" Her tone was mocking, and she loved seeing you squirm and twitch in her grip. Every tiny movement of your body was like a sign that she had that control, that you were her puppet and she was the master in this little game of hers. She loved playing with you, making you lose control, and watching you react to her touch, her words, everything she did. "Girlfriend," you gasped out, finishing your sentence. "You wanna be my girlfriend, baby?" to which you responded with a moan and nod. Without warning, she pulled her hand out of your panties and pushed you down onto the desk. Your whole torso was pressed against the cold surface of your desk, accidentally scattering the papers you were organizing earlier. The girl wasted no time in pulling your skirt up, her green irises focusing on the wet spot she had created — fucking soaked; she licked her lips hungrily, pulling your pink underwear down. "Tell me what else you want, pretty" her fingers tracing your slit teasingly, collecting all your slick and messily smearing it all over your pussy. You shut your eyes, remembering yourself to keep it quiet.

"So ready for me—nice and wet, just how I like it." Before you could give her a proper answer or anything, she smoothly slid two fingers into your hole, sounds of pleasure filling the small room, hoping no one could hear you. "Want you to...fuck...treat me better," Her fingers picked up the pace, pumping in and out of you faster, almost giving you no time to adjust to them, she was so fucking desperate to make you cum on her fingers and god if anyone walked by, they would've been fucking traumatized, it was fucking obscene. Ellie finger fucking you from behind; she had you bent on your desk, just like she had always dreamt of.

"Treat you better, got it — Keep talking, princess." She just loved teasing you. She had you wildly writhing on your now messy desk, struggling to keep your mouth shut, yet she loved it. She loved the tremble in your voice as you tried to keep those cute little whimpers of yours at bay. So dreamy, such a slut you were for her. "I was so- mmph…upset when you…ignored me for a week." Each moan, each gasping breath, told her exactly how close she was bringing you to the edge. And oh, how Ellie loved being in control of that. "Yeah? I made you all sad?" her tone was mocking again, and her fingers moved faster and harder with each word that came out of you just to make it extra harder for you to hold your moans, such a cunt she was. You moaned in response, but apparently, that wasn't enough for her. "No, princess. I wanna talk it out. Use your words."

You whimpered and pushed your hips backward, meeting her thrusts. "I was...Ellie, please..." but she clicked her tongue "Was what?" She urged you, demanding that you finish your sentence. You couldn't see her face, but you knew just by her tone that a cocky grin lingered on those freckled features you loved so much. "Upset, con- confused" you stammered, bucking your hips against her hands as she kept fingering you mercilessly. "Why?" she knew exactly why, it was just an excuse to keep you talking. "Cause I couldn't understand, I just- 'm close." slutty moans echoed in the small office, no longer caring if anyone who passed by would hear you, you were far too gone for that, far too gone to think and use your brain. "I know angel, just tell me how you felt." all your juices making a mess of her hand, not that she cared, you were dripping all over her fingers and hand; completely enamored with the way your body reacted to her touch.

"I just wanted you and- oh my god!" and just like that, you exploded on her fingers; she hovered over your body, bending down over you just to whisper sweet nothings into your ear, her fingers still buried deep inside you, letting you ride out your orgasm. Your breathing was ragged, panting like a dog. "Wanna be my girlfriend?" she whispered in your ear, leaving a few kisses on your neck. "Yeah," you breathed out. "Yeah?" she echoed with a cheeky smile creeping up her face, though you couldn't see it. "Yes, but I'm not your fucking secret." you tried to sound threatening and she couldn't help but chuckle dryly at your words, wrapping her arms around your waist. "Not gonna be my little secret."

And she kept her word.

✩ coworker!ellie went from your biggest hater to your biggest fan. Could you imagine it? Well, no one could. She would bring you up in any context or situation, always speaking so highly of you. Your boss was taken aback by the sudden shift in her attitude. The same-room-same-bed mistake was indeed just a way to help you resolve your issues but never he expected that the two of you would hit it off so well, let alone dating. Safe to say that no one saw it coming.

"Could you give this to y/n?" "Who?" "y/n" "Ohhh...my girlfriend? Sure, will do." throwing 'the bomb' like that so randomly, obviously left your boss thinking she was just joking. No one actually believed her until you confirmed it.

✩ coworker!ellie couldn't stop yapping about you to everyone in your workplace (and outside), it was almost nauseating how much of a lovesick girl she became overnight, shocking. No one could stand her ass for more than two seconds. Constantly talking and rambling about how perfect and beautiful you were, how good you were in what you did — basically acting like a proud girlfriend, showing you off at any chance she got.

✩ coworker!ellie wears one of those customized 'i love my gf' shirts with your face just to embarrass you.

"Ellie, what. the. fuck. are you wearing?" you wanted to be mad, pissed, but it was genuinely funny and you found yourself unable to contain your laughter. She looked utterly stupid in that but you couldn't help but smile. "Told you, not gonna keep you a secret. Everybody needs to know." and she was so dramatic about it, making a bunch of customized things with your face. Shirts, boxers (which you really liked), mugs that she'd keep in her office, either to use them or to just put all her pens in, jackets, anything.

✩ coworker!ellie was always sticking to you like glue, never leaving your side no matter where you were. She would follow you around the office like a puppy, her hands always on your body. You couldn't have a conversation with anyone without her hovering nearby, listening in. She would steal quick kisses from you whenever she got the chance, be it in a meeting or in the presence of others.

Dina stood casually leaning against the doorframe, her eyes fixed on the scene in front of her. Jesse, her boyfriend, emerged from his office with a broad grin on his face, looking a little bemused. Dina couldn't help but smirk "You owe me 50 bucks," she announced, her voice ringing with the sound of victory. Jesse looked at her with a mixture of disbelief and amusement. "You saw it coming?" he asked her incredulously, raising an eyebrow. The brunette shrugged, the smirk still firmly in place on her face. "It was bound to happen at some point," she stated "and I won, so...50 bucks." She held out her hand, waiting for Jesse to hand over the cash. He rolled his eyes, but couldn't help but smile at his girl's enthusiasm. "Fine, you win," he said, handing over the money. "And you're taking me out for dinner tonight," she added with a grin, her tone smug. "Anything for you, my love,"