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#( also sorry for whatever this is it's the first thing that even came to mind... : | )
peccatoriius · 1 year
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open to: m/f/nb plot ideas: first hookup, drunken night between two people (co-workers,etc), fwb, forbidden sh*t, anything goes.
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“ can you uh, ” jia paused, glancing up towards the other, a sly grin on her lips. “ can you use your mouth again ? i really liked that. ”
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kamitv · 1 month
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▷ What You Need
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Sypnosis . In which your dad, who’s worked closely with jujutsu sorcerers his entire life, finally allows you to meet his best friend— who’s half-curse, half-human, and 100% your type. / Pairing . dbf!Choso x fem!reader / Content . afab!reader, age gap (reader is 20 & Choso is like 150 lol), jjk au, pet names (baby, princess, sweetheart, etc), dry humping, teasing, reader’s pretty blunt, dirty talk, Choso is so soft with the reader, heavy tension, filth, pussy slapping, squirting, creampie, semi-soft sex, semi-rough sex, overstim, etc . / wc . 10k (heh..)
A/N: I can’t even explain where this idea came from. Just know I was listening to ‘What You Need’ by The Weeknd & then my mind went from there. If you have Daddy issues, you’re welcome. [MDNI]
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You wanted to fuck him.
Plain and simple, straight to the point, your first impression of your father’s best friend was that you wanted to have sex with him. Unfortunately for you, the problem with such fantasies was that you had a boyfriend at the time.
A really really shitty one but, still. You were in a relationship when you first met Choso. And you remember meeting the man so clearly too— partially because you ran right into him, and also because one conversation with him had you forgetting your sorry excuse of a boyfriend’s name.
——
You were yawning as you glided down the flight of stairs of your home with your phone in your hand, the smell of coffee simmering into your nose, and a deep unfamiliar voice heard coming from your kitchen.
And to think you nearly regret coming home to your father’s estate for the summer. You’d left all your friends in the city just to come out to the countryside and spend time with your parents. More specifically, your father.
The first week home you were bored out of your mind. The most exciting part of your day would be a lengthy phone call with your best friend about whatever drama you’d missed out on while you were out of town. 
Your mother was out on a business trip and your father spent most days holed up in his office despite pleading for you to spend the summer home. The days dragged on and the hours felt endless.
Up until a rather particular Friday morning.
Time and time again over the years, your father had always mentioned one name when it came to his friends; Choso Kamo, his best friend. For whatever work-related reason, your dad always told you that you weren’t allowed to meet the guy. And yet, something had changed— apparently, the man needed a place to stay for a few months.
And yeah, sometime throughout Thursday night you briefly remember talking to your father about meeting the mysterious ‘Choso Kamo’ the next day but, you didn’t expect to run into the guy first thing that following morning.
Standing in the middle of your kitchen as you’d carelessly waltzed in, large hands latching onto your waist from the initial contact of your forehead meeting his chest, and husky deep tone hitting your ears with a sexy, “Woah,” The man uttered, causing your body to tense up from head to toe, “Careful, sweetheart.”
His voice was heavy in such a low purr, prompting a chill to slip down your spine before you angled your head up to look at the source of such a tone. An immediate lump was caught in your throat and you think you forgot how to speak properly because you’re blurting out a startled little curse before you even realize it.
“Sorry I-, damn.” You breathe out in reaction to the man in front of you.
His hands, which you’re only just now realizing are at your sides, are steady to leave you after assuring you’re not going to fall forward. The deepest set of dewy brown eyes settle on your face and you think you’re in love. Dark bags from lack of sleep weigh sexily beneath his low-lidded eyes, a jet black shade of ink is printed across the bridge of his nose, not a single blemish in sight, and a sweet yet masculine scent rushes into your nose all at once.
It was as though God decided to deliver an angel directly to you in the form of a very very attractive man— only thoughts of sin clouding your mind as he tips his head to the side and studies your face carefully, the messy strands of hair at his forehead swaying slightly with his little movement.
And then this man, whose skin noticeably has a deep red undertone, has the nerve to smirk at you. Pretty plump rose-tinted lips curve so suavely that you’re staring way harder than you meant to and watching his mouth move as he says something to you once more.
Although, you don’t hear a thing he says. You’re in a daze, stuck staring so rudely at his lips and how perfect they appear until your name is said. 
You flinch and lift your gaze to meet his, “H-Huh?” You stammer, getting flustered all over again by the intense eye contact.
He lets out the softest little chuckle and you can feel your heart swooning, “I asked if you were alright,” The brunette repeats for you, studying your eyes closely, “You walked right into me so…”
“I-I’m fine,” You stutter before clearing your throat and taking a slight step back to gather yourself. That rich scent of cologne oozing off of his body was making you dizzy with desire, “Sorry for walking into you.”
That smile on his face only seems to grow softer, “It’s alright,” He says, soon extending a hand out to you, “I’m sure your father wanted to introduce us to one another but, this works too. I’m Choso-“
“Kamo,” You finish for him as you meet his hand with your own, shaking it firmly, “I-, wait,” You can finally feel the thumping of your heart settling down— meaning you can return to a proper reaction to that information, “You’re my dad’s best friend?”
Choso gives you a little nod, “I am,” He hums before eyeing you up and down, “And you’re…” His eyes freeze somewhere for a split second but then he’s snapping them back up to your face, “A lot older than I thought.”
Your brows pinch together, “I’m sorry? How old did my dad say I was?”
“That’s the thing, he didn’t say at all. I just assumed you were a little girl,” He admits, finally retracting his hand from yours after becoming overly aware of the way your thumb was slipping across his knuckles while you shook his hand. “And as we can see,” He lets off a little scoff, “You’re far from that.”
The way your eyes widen at that has him rushing to correct himself.
“Well, n-not that that’s a bad thing, I just-, I mean, you’re a grown woman and I wasn’t expecting that,” Choso manages out quickly.
Then you’re chuckling and it’s like a sweet melody to his ears, his entire facial expression simmering to a look of ease. “It’s okay, I know what you meant,” You tell him, flashing the prettiest smile he thinks he’s ever set his eyes on, “After all, I was expecting an old wrinkly man but no, Dad brings home some 6ft sex symbol with tatts.”
His brows meet for a second as he bats his lashes at you as if to see if you were gonna realize what you just said. Little did he know, you’re aware of what you said and you meant every syllable— boldly making your attraction to him known from the very beginning.
And maybe that was where it all started. Maybe that was the calm before the storm of whatever it is you’d call the things you and Choso experience over the remainder of the summer.
Because after that little encounter, you and Choso get along a little too well. 
——
The first day was a breeze. After getting friendly with one another in the kitchen, you were sure to skip over to your father’s office and inform him of having already met his best friend so he wouldn’t try to awkwardly introduce you two later.
Your dad made sure to ask you how you felt about his best friend staying there for a few months— to which you explained that you didn’t care too much, you’d be leaving back to the city for school again in like a month and a half so who cares?
That, and why on earth would you complain about that sexy curse living just down the hall from you?? Which was another thing in itself, you were aware of what he was, your dad briefly explained it to you before which is all the more reason why you expected some old wrinkly person.
As such, you needed to express your infatuation to someone as soon as possible. And what better victim than your best friend back in the city? 
Now laying on your stomach across your old bed, your legs swing back and forth in the air as you thoughtlessly chat it up with your friend, “No, you don’t get it. He’s sooo hot,” You exclaim for like the millionth time since the call connected.
She chuckles from the other end, “Girl, this is your sixth time reminding me within the past thirty minutes, I think I get it.”
“But you don’t,” You whine dramatically, “His eyes, they’re so pretty, the prettiest brown eyes I’ve ever seen-, ugh,” Your face drops down into one of your pillows for a second as you smile to yourself and recall the countless times you and Choso have made eye contact, “And the way he smells— like fuckin’… roses or something, but roses in the middle of a dark rainforest with-“
“Okay, okay,” Your friend laughs, “We get it. He smells good. What’s next? You’re gonna tell me about how you want this guy, who’s probably in his forties, to fuck you on the nearest surface as soon as possible-“
“Yes,” You huff, “Yes, I do. I want him to fuckin’ ruin me.”
The sound of your friend scoffing can be heard, “Uh, I think you’re forgetting something.”
Your face scrunches up, “What?”
“You have a boyfriend,” She scarcely reminds you, her tone light and gentle with you.
To which you roll your eyes, “Oh whatever. You mean the same ‘boyfriend’ who cheated on me two months ago? The same asshole who I’ve given chance after chance even though he treats me like shit? The ‘boyfriend’ who took like two hours to make me cum that one time? The guy I literally told you I’m gonna break up with soon??”
“W-Well,” She lets out a heavy sigh, “Yeah… that asshole. I know you’re leaving him soon but please don’t go fucking your dad’s best friend before you break things off with him-“
“I’m not stooping down to his level, don’t worry,” You hum softly as you flip over to lay on your back, “Though… I did consider it.”
“Seriously?” She scoffs in surprise.
You nibble on your lower lip and smirk, “You don’t get how hot Choso is.”
Your best friend chuckles, “Girl.”
“I’m jus’ saying! I can’t even think of any other guy when he’s around. He’s so…” As you continue your ramble about the small crush you’ve developed for your father’s best friend— you’re completely clueless about the man having heard almost everything.
Choso wasn’t spying on you or anything, he was simply walking down the hall and happened to hear a thing or two since your door was left cracked open. And sure, he took the slightest peak inside to spot you resting atop your bed but he was about to walk away until he heard you describing him.
Of course he was inclined to stop and listen to you ramble about his appearance— he thought it was cute. He’d seen how you’ve been looking at him anyway, he’s not dumb.
The problem is that you’re his best friend’s daughter. The last thing he should be doing is taking any kind of romantic or sexual interest in you. You were off-limits in his mind.
Or at least, you’re supposed to be.
——
But God do you make things difficult.
You and Choso share your small interactions in the morning usually, asking each other how you slept and whatnot, basically making casual small talk every morning. You learn more and more about the man, asking him questions about what it’s like being half-curse and half-human, questions about his cursed technique and the things he can do.
Most of which he waters down for you since, even though your father’s a part of the jujutsu sorcery world, you aren’t. You know a few basic things like how cursed energy works but that’s about it so Choso keeps his answers to you very simple.
That aside, you are a goddamn enigma to Choso. He’s always caught between wanting to stare at you for hours on end and knowing he shouldn’t have his eyes on you for longer than five minutes because then his mind’s drifting elsewhere.
But again, you make it so fucking difficult.
One hot Tuesday morning, Choso notices he hadn’t run into you in the spacey kitchen of your father’s estate yet. He was busy making the same coffee he prepares daily, wondering what time you were gonna make your way downstairs. He can’t lie to himself, he has grown quite attached to your little morning talks with him.
Tapping his fingers across the counter as he watches his coffee brew, his ears suddenly perk up at the sound of a splash. Lifting his attention, Choso glances back over his shoulder to the direction of which the sound came from— looking out the large sliding glass door that leads out to the pool and wondering if your father was out there or something.
To his everloving surprise, the source of that sound is anything but your dad. It’s actually you, swimming around peacefully until you’re floating toward the edge of the pool, right in Choso’s line of vision as you lift yourself up.
Everything moves in slow motion like some cliche film, Choso’s eyes widening at the water rolling down your body and the goddamn bikini you have on. Holding yourself up on the edge of the pool, not yet exiting the small body of water yet, Choso finds himself studying every inch of you (that’s visible at least).
And then, as you finally push up, there’s that natural arch in your back that has Choso swallowing-, no, gulping down something thick in his throat. His lips are parting and he’s letting out a breath of air he didn’t realize he was keeping in as he watches those small droplets of water glide down along your glistening wet skin. 
And fuck when you’re out of the water and you lift your arms into the air to stretch, your body on full display to the man— slick with water, exposed skin sparkling beneath the morning sunlight, and that bikini leaving hardly anything to the imagination.
Choso has to physically fight himself to rip his eyes off of you, turning back to the coffee in front of him and clearing his throat. The image of you in that bathing suit is doing wonders for these wandering thoughts he’d been trying to avoid. You were so wet— literally soaked before his very greedy eyes, your entire body dripping in sex appeal, and the sight of you like that steadily rushing heat down to his c-
The sound of the sliding door opening makes Choso flinch like crazy. He lets out a little huff and glances back to see you with a towel now wrapped around your waist.
Your tits were sitting so prettily in that bright red bikini top-
“Morning’ Mr. Kamo,” You greet sweetly as you enter the kitchen.
Choso gulps down his nerves, “Mornin’ princess,” He says casually whilst moving to grab his mug of coffee.
That little pet name he’d randomly picked up for you somewhere along the line makes your heart warm every time you hear it. A smile forms on your face as you approach his side and glance around his little setup for coffee making, “Aw, you didn’t make me one this time?” You say with a little pout on your face as you glance at him.
He shrugs, “Didn’t know you were up yet.” Then Choso avoids looking in your direction at all costs by turning to the other counter to grab a spoon, “What made you go for a swim this early?”
“I dunno but,” You hum, following right behind him and approaching his side once more as you watch him stir nothing into his coffee, “You should join me next time.”
He swears his entire body heats up as you say that. Just the thought of being in the pool with you, hardly clothed, swimming together, and wetting each other up makes his mind spin. “Dunno if that’s a good idea, sweetheart,” Choso says casually, as if he wasn’t having thoughts of pressing you against one of those poolsides and-
“Hm?” You bat your lashes up at him and he glances at your face for a split second before ripping his eyes off you, “Why not?”
“What would your dad think?” Choso sighs, continuing to stir nothing into his coffee as if that’ll help him forget about you standing half-naked beside him.
You scoff, “Nothing? It’s just you and me swimming together.”
Choso rolls his eyes at your innocence, “Alone,” He adds on, “Me and you swimming alone together.”
“Are we supposed to have an audience?” You tease, leaning closer to him and entering his peripheral line of vision, “Or, are you uncomfortable being alone with me?”
He freezes, slowly turning his head to look down at you, “Not at all,” Choso quickly tells you, “Being alone with you like that is just…”
Your eyes widen slightly in anticipation and he can feel his body warming again. Then, you glance off to the side innocently, “…Tempting?” You offer.
To which he answers without thinking, “Exactly.”
You part your lips to say something snarky in response but he’s moving away from you yet again. Cursing himself mentally for letting that slip. He didn’t want you to realize he was growing just as interested in you as you were him. 
Then, with perfect timing, your father comes from around the corner with his mouth wide open as he lets out a hefty yawn. 
“Mornin’ you two,” Your dad grumps as he shuffles his feet toward the fridge.
Choso had somehow made his way to the island in the middle of the kitchen already, now sitting comfortably on one of the three bar stools, his eyes low on his phone screen as he lifted his cup to his lips, “Good morning.”
Your eyes are directly on the man as you replay his response to you moments ago over and over in your brain. The nerve he had to go and sit down casually as if he didn’t just he didn’t just imply something very-
“Daughter,” Your dad sighs out, to which you snap out of your daze and glance at him.
“Father,” You hum in response.
He looks at you, sending you a kind and tired little smile, “I’ll be gone for a few days for business, you okay with that?” He asks, subtly nodding his head back at Choso and silently asking if you’re comfortable being alone for a few days with the man.
Of course, you have to physically contain your excitement— being alone with Choso means no more interruptions like what had just happened, “Yeah, that’s fine by me.” You say with a little shrug.
Your father nods at that and then tends back to the fridge to prepare himself something. You smile to yourself before tiptoeing your eyes back over to Choso, only to find his eyes already on you.
All of you, drinking in the sight of you in that damn bikini top before he boldly and directly cracks a lazy smirk and lifts his gaze to your face. You can feel a wave of heat rushing to your cheeks as he tilts his head and sends you a little wink from across the kitchen— bluntly letting you know that he’s thinking the same thing you are and your excitement is mutual.
——
Day one alone with Choso was actually really fun. The two of you spent time together in your father’s massive basement, lounging around together and even indulging in a friendly game of pool.
It was nice, comforting even, to have Choso around. He was very respectful and kind with you, subtle with flirting with you because he didn’t want the true levels of his desire to be known, and so gentle with you that it made your heart turn to mush every single time.
Day two was even better. You both finally went on that swim you offered— to which you nearly drooled when he first stripped himself of his shirt, eyeing his washboard abs that were decorated with such pretty scars from previous fights he’s had. 
The two of you just swam and talked, you’d splash him a bit every now and then and he’d splash you back whenever you uttered something way too flirtatious.
At some point you felt like that was his way of turning you down. Sure, he was interested in you but, Choso had his way of silently telling you it wasn’t gonna happen. Or at least, it shouldn’t happen.
Day three was when things changed. Well, night three specifically.
Choso was in the kitchen, where the two of you always seem to run into each other, sitting on his favorite bar stool while working on something on his laptop until he heard you coming downstairs. His ears twitched and he glanced up to see if you were coming into the kitchen a few times, noticing your steps sounded oddly determined.
When you do enter the kitchen, the enter mood shifts. Choso opens his mouth to greet you since it’s past midnight and he hadn’t seen you in a few hours but he freezes when he sees the look on your face.
Flushed and fuming with emotion, your breathing unsteady and ragged as if you’d been crying, and your hands shaky as you make way for one of the wine cabinets. He almost doesn’t move. Choso sits there in shock for a minute, watching you rush to grab a glass and a bottle of alcohol at random, slamming it down on the kitchen island and moving to find something to open the bottle with.
It’s then that Choso’s standing to his feet and walking toward you, “Hey, hey,” He coos, seeing the frustration in your face as you jerk a drawer open with an upset pout on your face, “What’re you doing? What’s wrong?” Choso asks as he nears your side.
You don’t even look at him, pulling your lower lip into your mouth and biting back tears. “I-Isn’t it obvious?” You snap back in an annoyed tone, responding to his first question and first question alone as you swipe up a corkscrew out the drawer and push it shut with your hip.
Then you shuffle back over to the island where your unopened bottle and wine glass are sitting. Your hands are shaking due to the rush of adrenaline throughout your body and Choso follows your every move, standing to your left as he leans against the counter and tilts his head at you.
He carefully moves to slide the bottle of alcohol away from you, which earns him an angry glare from you. Choso only grins kindly at your expression, “Aren’t you a little too young to be drinking?” He teases.
You scoff, in no mood for his teasing right now, “Oh fuck off, I’m twenty years old.”
“I know,” He says calmly, his tone as soft and sweet as ever, “But the legal age for drinking is twenty-one, no?”
“Depends on where you live,” You huff, reaching for the bottle once more only to receive his hand being placed over yours.
You freeze and Choso tilts his head a little more, “Talk to me, pretty,” He hushes out, inching closer to your ear and furthering the softness of his deep rich voice, “What happened?”
You can feel yourself melting at the warmth his body brings as he gets closer to you, your breath hitching slightly due to his attentive curiosity, “My… My boyfriend jus’ broke up with me,” You grit out.
He can tell you’re more upset than you are saddened but either way, he wants to help you, “The asshole you told me about?”
“Uhuh,” You nod, making a small attempt to pull that bottle toward you again.
Choso smirks and his fingers weave through yours slightly before pulling your hand away and pinning it to the counter, “So talk to me about it, princess,” He hushes out, “The last thing you need is alcohol right now.”
You’re quiet for a few seconds before you sniffle, relaxing under his small touch, “Well… I just, I hate feeling like this.”
“Like what?” He whispers, carefully rubbing his thumb against the soft skin of your hand.
“I was gonna break up with him but he fucking beat me to it and now I just-, I dunno, I feel like shit,” You huff out before you slowly turn your head to look at him again.
Your eyes are all glossy and your lashes are noticeably wet, a small tear slipping down your cheek. Choso moves without thinking.
Taking his hand off of yours and bringing his palm to cup your cheek, watching you lean into his touch as he thumbs that tear of yours away, “You feel like shit?” He repeats.
Nodding against his hand, you mumble a little response, “M-Mhm.”
“I’d love to say you shouldn’t but,” His gaze kindly flicks back and forth between your left and right eyes, “I understand. Break-ups are hard.”
You pout, “They shouldn’t be. He was fucking terrible to me. I was supposed to break things off, not him. H-He doesn’t get to just do that. It’s not fair.” Your voice comes out in a slight whine at the end and he can see your eyes glossing over again.
“I know, I know,” Choso coos, bringing his other hand to your vacant cheek and cupping your face in his big hands.
“Do you?” You unintentionally huff out to him, “Have you ever even-“
He scoffs playfully, “Yes, princess. I’ve had multiple relationships in my lifetime.”
You snort, “‘In my lifetime’, you make yourself sound old as hell,” A slight grin forms on your face amist your sorrows and it makes his heart churn.
Choso’s gaze rakes over your face in his hands, “Baby, how old do you think I am?”
“I dunno,” You shrug, “You look like you’re not even a day over twenty five.”
He smirks, “Do I?”
“Mhm. How old are you?”
“A hundred ‘n fifty.”
You choke, “Holy shit, seriously??” You gape as your eyes widen in surprise.
“Yeah…” Choso trails off for a moment, tipping his head to the side, “Does that scare you?”
You almost laugh at that, “What? No, I love older men,” As you say that, there’s almost a look of bliss on your face.
To which sparks Choso’s interest as if he hadn’t picked up on that fact a long time ago, “Oh?”
“I-I mean-, wait,” You stammer, looking away from him, “N-No-, actually, yeah… I meant that.”
“Careful,” Choso says simply, “You’re gonna make me think the wrong thing if you speak like that.”
Slowly, your eyes trail back over to him and he removes his hands from your face, “Would that be so bad?” You murmur, leaning closer to him ever so slightly.
His eyes bore directly into yours, “Yes. You’re my best friend’s child.”
Your face twists up, “Yeah but I’m not literally a child.”
“I know-“
“So don’t treat me like one,” You cut off, gazing intently up into his mesmerizing brown eyes.
His look softens, “I’m sorry if I have.”
“Don’t see me as one either,” You continue, earning a light scoff from his lips.
Choso shrugs, “I don’t.”
“You don’t?” Your eyes widen slightly and the room feels so unbelievably warm right now.
“Never have,” Choso admits, licking his lips for a moment before continuing, “Even though I should be.”
Your brows furrow, “Why?”
He flashes a small smile, “I’m literally seven times your age.”
“So?”
“So this-,” He gestures between the two of you, “Whatever ‘this’ may even refer to, is horribly wrong in so many ways.”
You roll your eyes and cross your arms, “But ‘this’ isn’t anything yet.”
“Yet?” Choso echoes.
“Oh c’mon, Mr. Kamo,” You purr, “The only reason we haven’t given in to what we both want is because I had a boyfriend.”
“Choso,” He corrects, “I’ve told you to call me Choso.”
Your gaze becomes noticeably sultry as you lower your eyelids and soften your voice, “I know, sorry sir.”
“Stop that,” He huffs, glancing off to the side.
You lean toward the direction he’s looking off to and fein innocence, “Stop what, sir?”
“That.” Choso rasps, clearing his throat seconds later to collect himself.
“Why?” You urge, inching closer and boldly speaking your mind, “Does it turn you on?”
He scoffs but you see his lips twitching into a smirk, “No.”
Growing curious, your brows pinch together, “Wait, does anything turn you on?”
“Huh?” Choso breathes before looking at you.
“Like, since you’re half-curse… does that affect your bodily functions or anything? Can you even get aroused-“
He lets out a chuckle in reaction to your ignorance, “Yes, yes I can.”
“Really?” Sparkles seem to light up in your eyes and it doesn’t go unnoticed.
“I’m more human than I am curse.” He states simply.
You smirk, “Everywhere?”
“Yes, everywhere.”
“Like… even your c-“
“Yes.” He cuts off, “Now stop it.”
Your lower lip gets caught in between your teeth, “Stop what?”
“Trying to get me to have a sexual conversation with you,” Choso says in a commanding tone before taking a respectful slight step back.
“I want a lot more than just a conversation,” You whisper loud enough for him to hear.
Choso becomes cold with you in an instant, “And I don't care, it’s not happening.”
At that, there are several twinges in your heart. You grit your teeth and turn for that not-so-forgotten bottle of alcohol, quickly popping it open and pouring yourself a glass. Then, before Choso can even react, you’re gulping it down and he’s sighing in defeat.
After which, you send him an annoyed glare and he frowns softly at you, “Princess-“
“Don’t call me that.” You cut off curtly, licking the bit of liquid intoxication that rests on your lips.
His eyes flicker down for a split second, “Why? ‘Cause I won’t fuck you like you want me to?” Choso asks boldly.
“I-, yeah…” You utter, “Y-Yeah. That’s exactly why I don’t want you to call me that.”
He shakes his head softly and moves to push the bottle away from you again, “I told you alcohol isn’t what you needed.”
“What I ‘need’ won’t let me have him,” You say, pouting yet again.
Choso sighs as he returns his eyes to your face, grinning at your expression as he lifts a hand to your chin, “You don’t ‘need’ me.”
You lean into his touch instantly, “I do-“
“You want me,” Choso corrects, his gaze narrowing on your mouth as his thumb wipes up a small slip of alcohol that missed your lips.
“No” You huff, tipping your head toward his thumb and pushing your lips against the pad of it, “I need you.”
The man can feel his resistance thinning, “You need me?” He echoes lowly, his voice dropping suddenly.
“Yes, I-“
“Need me to what, exactly?” Choso’s thumb applies slight pressure to your lips before he’s parting them and feeling against your lower lip. Then, before you can even answer, he’s looking into your eyes and leaning close to you, “Hm? Need me to fuckin’ ‘ruin’ you?” He quotes.
You were too caught up in experiencing his teasing to realize he gave away the fact that he heard one of your previous phone calls, “Please?”
“Say it,” Choso whispers as his free hand slips over to your waist.
“I need-“
“Want.” He scolds, weighing your bottom lip down a bit.
You whine, “But-“
“Speak properly to me ‘nd I might give you what you want,” Choso says.
You perk up at that, “I want you to ruin me, Choso.”
He takes a deep breath and leans in, “I shouldn’t.” The man whispers to you.
Your eyes are lowering to his lips, “But you want it to,” You point out, yearning for the soon connection of his lips to yours, “I know you do.”
“You don’t know anything,” He argues.
“Choso, you’ve been undressing me with your eyes from the moment you first set them on me.” You refute in a low whisper
“I…” He trails off— refusing to deny or agree with that.
The way your arms unfold and you slowly bring your hands to his shoulders, leaning in and tilting your head, has him in a trance, “Just take me.”
He chokes, “I won’t.”
You scoff, “Then I’m turning back to my drink…”
“No. Instead,” Choso swallows thickly and retracts his hand from your face. “We can do something else.”
You miss his touch already, “Like what?”
“Watch a movie.”
“We both know exactly what that’s going to lead to.”
It’s then that he seems to finally give in, “Let it lead there then since you want it so bad.”
——
And that’s why you don’t regret coming home for the summer. Because how else would you have ended up like this?
Yeah, you and Choso watched some random movie together to get your mind off things but, just like you’d said— you both knew what it’d lead to and it did. After the movie, you find yourself asleep, all your emotions and adrenaline having caught up on you.
The thing is, you fell asleep on Choso. He was right there with you, deep in his slumber just as you were for a while. So perhaps that’s how you ended up the way you are now.
Both of you had woken up to your body right in front of Choso’s. He was laid out against the stretch of the couch, his head resting on a pillow that was propped up against the armrest of the couch. You both woke up at the same time and you were lying on your side.
He had an arm around your waist and his crotch was flush with your ass. Slowly, you turned your head back to look at him and he met your gaze intimately. Lifting his head slightly from the pillow, leaning in toward you, moving a hand to angle your head up some more, his thumb gently rubbing against your chin.
“Choso,” You whispered, earning a groggy little hum from him.
His eyes lower on your lips. So soft, they look so fucking soft. He’s always thought that but the closeness right now and the dim lighting coming from the TV was killing him, “What?” Choso whispers, “Y’still want it?”
You shake your head, “Not ‘it’ Choso, you.”
He gulps and begins to inch his face closer to yours, his breath carefully hitting your lips as he whispers to you, “You sure? Once we start… I won’t hold back.”
“Don’t want you to,” You utter, trying to lean up to him some more.
He smirks at that, “Alright…” Then his lips are practically on yours, “Jus’ remember you asked for this.”
That’s the last thing said before he’s kissing you, lightly too. Choso’s always so gentle with you as if he fears you’ll break. 
And hell, maybe after tonight you will have been broken. Because what starts out as a slow testing taste of lips, soon turns hot and needy. His tongue glides past your moist lips, eager to taste you, to feel you, to make you feel good. 
Then his hand is sliding down your body, ghosting your chest before he pulls away for a second to whisper, “Can I touch you?”
“Yeah…” You utter, trying desperately to place your lips back on his.
He smirks, “Where?”
“Everywhere, Cho. M’all yours,” You claim.
Choso groans as his lips press into yours again, his hand sliding down just to slip under your shirt and grab a very firm hold of your breast. His touch is gentle for a second but then he’s squeezing the fat of your boob in his hand, his lips slipping over yours eagerly.
He’d only pull away for air for a split second before he’s sucking on your bottom lip again, intertwining his tongue with yours, and shifting his hand under your bra to wrap his fingers around your perky nipple. He gives the sensitive bud a small little pinch to test the waters and grins at the way you whine.
“Like that?” He whispers gingerly into your mouth.
You nod and the rest of your body is simply squirming against his, his cock twitching behind the fabric of his pants at the way your ass rubs against him just right. Choso rocks his hips forward ever so slightly, pressing his erection against you and nibbling on your lower lip hungrily.
Your mouth was so damn sweet— he just couldn’t get enough. Touching all over your breasts, pinching and lightly tugging at your nipples just to feel you moan against him. Then his hands, which are just so big, simply knead your breast within his palm as his mouth slides off of yours and he begins kissing your neck.
“You’re so tense, sweetheart,” Choso whispers into your skin, his warm breath tickling your neck, “Relax f’me.”
You let out a small sigh, “I’m tryin’…”
He smiles against you, “You nervous?” Choso asks as his hand slides out of your bra and rests against your stomach.
“No,” You huff.
Then, Choso’s moving to sit up and you move with him. He slips back against the armrest of the chair, his hands going to your hips to pull you on top of his lap with your back still facing him.
Choso’s hand trails to your stomach once more as his lips near your ear, “Lean back f’me, baby.” He guides, feeling the way you do just that and rest yourself against his chest, “There you go,” God his voice had you soaked, “Lemme take care of you, princess.”
You gulp loudly at that, your breathing beyond unsteady as you comfort yourself in his lap. His chest is so firm against your back, the feeling of his heart pounding within his ribcage so vividly felt behind you— he was just as anxious and nervous as you were. Cute.
His lips meet the space just behind your ear and his hands slither around your body. Choso carefully positions his fingertips at your inner thighs, “Do I have to guide you through everything, hm?” He hums playfully.
“N-No but,” Your eyes are glued to his big veiny hands playing with the skin of your legs, “I like the way you talk me through it.”
“Yeah?” He hushes out, “Alright then, go ‘head ‘nd spread your legs for me, pretty girl.”
You’re so horny you can hardly think straight. The air feels heavy and every touch from the older man has your skin tingling and your pussy pooling. As your thighs part, Choso’s quick to move his fingers to the waistband of your shorts, teasing you by running his fingertips under it.
“Tha’s it,” He purrs, “So good f’me.”
Your hips lift involuntarily as if to force his fingertips where you want them but he moves to grip onto you. 
Choso snickers at your eagerness, “Patience, baby. I’m tryin’ to take my time with ya’,” He admits, pressing his lips into the crown of your ear, “Wanna show you what sex is supposed to feel like.”
“H-Huh?” You gape in a breathy tone, “Choso, y’know m’not a virgin, right?”
He grins, “Mhm, I know. But that doesn’t mean we can’t take things slow for a bit,” He explains lowly, steadily pulling your shorts down as you help him with small wiggles of your hips, “Plus,” His middle and ring finger inch toward your panties, lips curving into a smile at the noticeably damp red fabric, “I gotta prep you anyway.”
You scoff, “For what? Is your dick that big?”
He shrugs, running the pad of his middle finger over your clothed center lightly, “You’ll find out soon enough.” Choso promises.
Then, he’s tugging your panties to the side, biting his lip as your cunt is exposed to him. Choso’s such a tease, caressing your soaked hole but not yet pushing his fingers in, kissing the side of your neck as he taunts you until you’re whining for him.
“Cho-“
“Two hours, right?” He suddenly asks. Your brows furrow and he senses your confusion, smirking slightly, “Your ex, he took two hours to make you cum one time, no?”
“I-,” Your jaw drops slightly as Choso easily draws his finger up to your clit, tracing soft circles around it, “H-How do you know about that?”
“Heard you talkin’ about him a few weeks back,” He whispers to you, “S’kinda sad, y’know. Two hours?” As he casually converses with you, his finger is providing you with slow stimulation.
You rest your head back against his shoulder, “Uhuh… he couldn’t figure anything out.” You explain as a pout pulls at your lips.
For whatever reason, that seems to boost Choso’s ego a bit. As such, his fingers dip back down and finally start pushing into you, “Oh yeah? Bet I can make you cum in two minutes.”
A brief chuckle leaves your lips, “He said the same thing…” You huff.
To which Choso scoffs, delving his fingers deep past your folds and groaning at that slick squelch that enters the air. “He’s not me, princess. Listen to how wet this pussy is f’me already,” The man taunts as he works a careful pace inside you, “So tight too… shit.”
The first moan you let out makes his cock twitch against your ass. Your lips part and you let out heavy breaths as Choso fingers you skillfully, talking you through his every movement.
“Tell me somethin’ baby,” Choso says, pushing another finger into you and curling his fingertips upward against your gummy walls, “When’s the last time you touched yourself?”
You pant, “Hah… U-Uh, I dunno…”
“Oh c’mon, don’t lie t’me,” He scoffs. He can’t help but watch the way his fingers disappear inside your cunt, your slick coating his skin and making the most obscene noises imaginable.
“Maybe last week,” You eventually utter in response to him, words coming out all in one short breath.
His cock is felt throbbing against your ass, hips rolling up slightly for the slightest bit of friction, “Yeah? Who’d you think about when you touched yourself? Hm?” The curse asks.
“Y-You, Choso,” You admit honestly, recalling the week prior when you had the man in mind as you relieved yourself.
He lets out a throaty grunt. The thought of you touching yourself to him was making his tip drip excessively within his boxers. “Mmh. Thought about me?” Choso huffs, fingering you a bit faster now as he searches for a particular spot.
When he finds it, you moan, “Yeah.”
“Fuck…” Choso groans against your ear, “Thought about me doin’ what? This?” He emphasizes his words with a firm rub of his fingertips against your sweet spot and watching your sloppy pussy drip off of his knuckles.
“Yes Choso,” You gasp with your back arching off of him.
He bites his lip, “Anything else?”
His two thick fingers pick up in pace, pumping deeply in and out of you and earning pretty moans from your moist lips. You were losing your mind. Choso’s fingers were so damn skillful and deep inside you, dragging his touch all along your walls, and digging into your g-spot over and over again.
“I-, ah… I thought about you-,” You mumble in between your moans, “Mmgh, f-fuckin’ me.”
“Where?” He purrs, his fingers swiveling inside you and making you gasp loudly, “How? Gimme details, pretty.”
“E-Everywhere-, fuck, right there… ‘Specially the kitchen, wanted you to bend me over the counter so many times…” You whine, cunt clenching around his fingers desperately.
He places a small kiss on your cheek and whispers, “Shoulda’ said somethin’.”
“You wouldn’t have done it,” You argue through slightly gritted teeth.
As you do so, your hips are lifting to meet his fingers while they thrust inside you. Your moans become more constant, more confident even, as he explores your pussy with his two fingers.
“I might after today,” Choso hushes out before pulling his fingers out of you for a split second just to deliver your cunt with a messy little slap that has you spasming.
“Please,” You mewl, your legs threatening to close on him as he rubs his fingers over your cunt in a sloppy manner, smearing your sappy slick all over the same place and making even more of a mess of you.
“Hey, keep these thighs open,” Choso huffs, landing yet another light smack onto your pussy and watching the way you quiver and clench around nothing, “M’not done, c’mon.”
Then he’s stuffing you full of his fingers again. In and out and in and out— so melodically pressing against your g-spot and then spreading his two fingers apart inside you, invoking a gasp from your throat, “Feels so g-good Choso.”
“So keep feelin’ it then,” He smiles, “Stop runnin’ from it, baby, give it t’me.” Choso requests.
And he knows you’re getting close, he can tell by the way your pussy greedily sucks his fingers back in every time he tugs them out, the way you’re moving a hand to cling onto his arm, and then there’s your legs struggling to remain open for him.
Not that he minded anyway. Choso had no problem with forcing your legs to stay open for him, it was cute watching the way you squirmed and the constant rutt of your ass against his achingly hard dick was what made things better for him as well.
“Cho,” You whimper as your back arches off of him yet again, your toes curling when he hits this particularly sweet and juicy spot inside you.
“Gonna fuck you real good after this,” He speaks right into your ear with that deep husky tone of his, his words making your pussy clench even tighter around his digits, “Ruin ya’ jus’ like you want me to.”
You couldn’t stop yourself from whining, “Please.”
“Look at me,” Choso directs, earning a steady turn of your head. As your eyes meet his, his fingers curl against you, “There she is, such a pretty girl.” The man whispers, watching your jaw drop and listening to the moan you breathe out in response.
“S-Stop that,” You pout, batting your lashes at him.
He chuckles, “Stop what?”
“Bein’ gentle with me.”
Choso almost scoffs, his fingers digging into you, “Why? It turns you on.”
You can’t even think straight enough to respond properly— your legs trying to shut on him again and your reply coming out in a lazy, “Nuh uh…”
“You’re so cute,” The way he’s talking to you, holding you, looking at you, it made you want to just melt away.
Your body was so damn hot, you could feel a coil in the pit of your stomach as your orgasm neared. Shit, he knew how to hit every spot inside you with ease. So much so that even his palm was pressing against your clit and providing you with even more stimulation to the point where your eyes were lulling back.
“Shut-, ah, mgh-, fuck. S-Shut up,” You blurt out in between breathy moans.
Choso’s eyes lower on your expression, “You’re gettin’ close, aren’t you?”
All you can do is nod, “Uhuh..”
Then you’re losing it again, seeing stars as he moves his free hand to roll a finger over your clit raw. Choso’s voice is rough with you, “Gonna cum f’me?” He asks, and you’re nodding desperately before he lets out a lower rasp of, “Say it.”
Your eyes squeeze shut and your hands mindlessly move in an attempt to push his away so you could fucking breathe for a moment, “Oh fuck, I-I’m gonna cum.” You whine.
“For who? Say my name, baby.” Choso orders with his fingers moving in and out of your cunt faster and faster, the sounds only getting wetter and wetter.
“For you, Choso,” Your voice is hardly even there but it’s loud enough to satisfy him, “Gonna cum f’you…”
He leans in a bit and looks you dead in your eyes, slamming his fingertips deeper and deeper, “C’mon then, give it to me. Cum f’me.”
And then you are. It felt so abrupt too, as if he hadn’t been coaxing you to that point anyway. Choso’s fingers are digging in and out and in and out, his pants hitting your lips as he softly rubs his hard cock against your ass. Your legs tried to close on him but his arms wrapped around you prevented you from doing so, both of his hands firmly stroking you through it.
Then there was the eye contact, intense gaze pouring into yours as you came around his fingers with a whiny cry of his name. “Good girl,” Choso praises, “Such a good fuckin’ girl f’me— makin’ a pretty mess ‘round me like that. Think you can gimme another?”
“Choso,” You puff out, shaking your head no in response.
He just grins at you, “Jus’ one more baby, one more. Promise.”
——
That was the biggest lie you’d ever heard. ‘One more’, yeah, and then he’s asking for another, and then another, and then another.
At some point, you could hardly move because of how intense your orgasms were, making the filthiest mess around his fingers and on his hands, and grinding against his hard cock as you cried out his name for what felt like hours. Choso had you geeked, high off of your own arousal because even though you were whimpering about it being ‘too much’ your pussy was singing an entirely different song.
Literally. The sloppy squelches from your cunt made Choso so unbelievably hard. He couldn’t wait to have you on his cock, whispering in your ear about how deep inside you he’s about to be, telling you to just give him one more so he can have his way with you, and rubbing himself against you so he doesn’t lose his damn mind.
He swears he almost came in his pants from just fingering you alone, especially when he brought his drenched fingers up to his mouth and fucking tasted you. The groan he let out came straight from deep within his stomach, causing butterflies to swirl in your stomach. 
Followed by that was him sucking your juices off his skin and then moving to your ear, “You taste so fuckin’ good, baby,” Choso practically moaned before moving his fingers to your lips, “I don’t wanna be selfish with it either so, here, taste y’self f’me.”
You gradually take his fingers in your mouth and suck on them tentatively with Choso’s eyes all over your face. And you suck on his fingers so skillfully, sliding your tongue in between them, taking them deeper into your mouth and almost into your throat, and even gagging against them.
“Fuck,” Choso breathes, his cock on the verge of nearly exploding in his pants. “B-Baby…” He pants.
With his fingers still in your mouth, drool slipping down your chin, “Hm?” You hum innocently.
“If I don’t fuck you right now, I’m gonna embarrass myself.” That was his final warning to you before he was snatching his fingers from your mouth and quickly moving his hands to your hips. Choso pushes you forward slightly and he suppresses a whine, soon placing a hand on your back, “Do me a favor ‘nd bend over f’me.” He requests.
You don’t hesitate to do just that, lifting yourself off of him and then leaning your upper half down against the couch, arching your back, and parting your legs for the man. Choso felt like he could cum from the sight alone. Your pussy was on full display for him, your thighs wet with your own cum and sweat, red panties still tugged to the side, and legs spread just for him.
Then Choso moves to his knees, positioning himself behind you as he rushes his sweats and boxers down— bulging cock springing out and slapping against his abdomen. He had precum dripping from his fat tip, his veins twitching, and his entire cock hot with an aching need.
You barely look back at him for a second, only for your face to be pushed back down to the couch as he presses his leaking tip against you. Your pussy lips twitch around his thick cockhead, feeling him rub against you as Choso groans.
“Too long,” Choso whispers, “We waited too long for this.” He starts rutting his hips forward ever so slightly, teasing his tip in and out of you as he tests your tight ring of resistance. “S’gonna be a big stretch, baby,” He warns, trying his hardest not to just ram himself inside you all in one go, “Need you to relax f’me, alright?”
If anything, you wiggle your hips back against him and force more than his tip inside you, moaning against the couch cushion your face is still being pushed into. “I can take it, Cho,” You whisper, “Jus’ give it t’me, please. Fuck me.”
That’s all it takes for him to start pushing himself inside you, immediately tossing his head back at your pussy gripping onto him, and tugging him deeper inside your warm entrance so damn welcomingly. He tries to go slow as he hears you hissing at the sheer stretch his big cock causes, your fingers curling against the couch and your back arching even further.
But the way your cunt just swallows and sucks him in has him letting out the prettiest groan you’ve ever heard from a man. There’s a tinge of a whine laced within that groan of his, feeling your saturated walls squeezing around his hefty shaft has Choso panting as he pushes into you. The last thing he wanted to do was cum too early so it doesn’t take much for him to just snap his hips forward.
Ripping a moan of his name from your throat, you feel all of him poking just everywhere. Choso’s cock is so damn big and thick, curving into that syrupy spot his fingers were teasing moments before. He reaches the hilt of your cunt with ease and watches the way your legs quiver.
“Choso,” You’re practically drooling into the couch whilst he reels his hips back and eases them forward again.
He lets out a loud huff that fans over you as he leans forward a little, pressing his hands into the cushion beside your sides, “So fuckin’ tight, mgh.” He grunts from behind you, “Been holdin’ out on me, huh?” Choso suddenly comments as he tilts his head and peers down at the sexy curve of your arched back.
You shake your head stupidly, “N-Ngh.. n-no,” You murmur softly, “Been tryin’ to… mgh, give it to you…”
“Yeah?” Choso smiles while slamming his hips forward a little harder than before, “You’ve been tryin’ to give this pussy t’me?” He huffs out with a heavy thrust.
Your jaw falls open, “Uhuh, but you k-know that, Choso.”
His smile widens a bit when he recalls the countless times he rejected your advances, “Hah, maybe…” As his worlds trail off a bit, his focus goes to your ass and the sexy recoil that’s caused every time his toned pelvis meets your ass.
Everything about you was so sexy, his hand instinctively lifting to land a harsh slap on your ass. Cock plunging in harder-, deeper, you found your legs quaking with every thrust and your eyes glossing over completely.
“Ah, oh fuck-,” You choke out as his achingly hard tip narrows in on your g-spot, hammering into you mercilessly.
Choso lets out a heavy breath of air and grabs a handful of your ass, glancing down to your sloppy folds, taking his glistening cock so well over and over. Inch by bruising inch, your cunt swallowed him gratefully every time he fed it to you.
“M’not gonna last long, baby,” He soon admits to you while his eyes roll back at the way you’re clenching around him simply because of his voice alone.
You throb at that, “H-Hngh.. you gonna cum s-soon?”
Choso nods almost drunkenly, “Uhuh, been holdin’ it in.” He explains to you before grabbing a firm hold of your hips and pinpointing his hips, sharpening his thrusts, and thrashing his throbbing cockhead against your dripping pussy.
He was addicted. He didn’t even have to finish yet to know he was never going to get enough of this— enough of you. All he can do is think back on all those times he could’ve flirted with you, and could’ve brought you to this very moment sooner. 
Like that morning when you came out of the pool, Choso knows he could’ve found a moment alone with you. He could’ve seduced you just as you did him, found any worthy surface to hoist you up against, and then fuck you to tears in that slutty bikini of yours.
Thinking back on it now, the bikini you wore then resembles the lace red panties that are hanging off of you by a thread right now, messy tugged to the side, and soaked with your earlier orgasms and wetness. 
Choso’s so lost in his head, he doesn’t realize he’s drilling his cock into you, fucking you down into the couch and nearly making you lose the arch in your back. 
You let out a broken cry of his name, “Ch-Choso-, oh.. fuuck, m’gonna cum, Cho.”
His brows tense and he settles both of his hands on your hips, tugging your ass back to meet his thrusts, “Again, princess? Gonna make a mess on my cock? Hm?”
“Mhm,” You mumble, practically clawing at the couch to hold yourself stable as he pounds into you.
Then he’s reaching for your hair and a moan is ripped from your throat as he tugs your head back, furthering your arch and making your legs go numb with the way you could feel his heavy girth in every corner of your sappy pussy.
Lips parted, eyes rolling back again, and legs shaking, you let out a cry of pleasure as you come undone before it even registers to you.
Choso’s in your ear all of a sudden, “You feel so good,” He grunts, gifting your cunt with another hard thrust, “So fuckin’ good.”
His other arm wraps around you and sneaks down to your clit, causing your entire body to spasm against him. “C-Choso-, s’too much, hahh… p-please,” You’re whimpering, feeling an entirely new sensation build up whilst he rubs his fingers over your clit.
Then he’s jamming in harder, breathing hot against your ear, pulling your hair firmly, and even giving your cunt light smacks as you suck him in just as he’d secretly always imagined you would.
Grunting against the shell of your ear, Choso’s fingers pick up the pace on your clit and he grinds his fat tip against the spot that has you seeing stars, “Feel that?” He whispers, “Feel me in there, pretty girl?”
“Choso,” You squeak, “I-I’m… mmgh, f-feels different, Cho.” 
“I know baby, I know,” He hushes out so softly despite the complete contract of his mean cock fucking you full beyond belief. “Want you to squirt f’me,” Choso coos, “Think you can do that? Hm?”
You’re shaking your head no, your body feeling as though it were on fire with how hot and overwhelmed you were by pleasure. To which Choso simply chuckles, his dick aching for release.
“Please?” He begs quietly, “I need it, princess.” He sounds so sweet and soft but it’s completely opposite to the way his cockhead is stretching you open from the inside out.
“Want,” You correct breathily as if to mock him from earlier.
He flashes a fucked-out little smile, “Uhuh, want it so bad,” Choso admits, his thrusts growing desperate and frantic, “Wanna feel it, wet my cock up, sweetheart. C’mon, squirt f’me.”
Your legs are attempting you shudder shut, the pleasure overwhelming your senses as your eyes cross, “C-Cho-, s’too much, I-I can’t-“
“Yes you can,” He kisses the space below your ear softly, “Jus’ let go for me. Stop runnin’ from it,” The sound of his voice is all you can pay attention to aside from his desperate jabs at your insides, leaving you pooling around his shaft and slicking up every delicate vein that trails along his cock, “You wanna cum, so do it. Cum for me, princess.” Choso groans heavily against your ear.
You are. And then so is he. Both of you reach an entirely different level of orgasm— your body trembles as you make a filthy mess of the couch when you squirt just as he’s requested and he makes a mess of your insides by releasing thick gloopy ropes of cum deep inside you, fucking in every drop with a loud whine of your name rolling off his tongue.
So much so that you’re both collapsing against the couch as your highs die down. His body weight rests on top of yours but you’re shaking in the aftershocks of your orgasm too much to care. Choso softly humps his dick in and out of you just to keep his cum from dribbling out of your puffy folds, letting out soft breaths against your skin.
The two of you simply lay there for a while, unable to move for a vast many reasons.
Choso soon whispers a calm, “You okay?” And you hum softly. “Need a verbal response, pretty girl.”
“Yeah,” You practically mouth the word instead of saying it but that’s just enough for him.
Then, after a few more minutes of relishing in what had just occurred— the fact that you slept with your dad’s best friend finally weighed in on you.
Though, you guess you’ll deal with any guilt later. Even though the sound of the house’s front door clicking open from just down the hall moments later was rather concerning…
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harunovella · 8 months
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*:・゚✧*:・゚✧ love language; s.g.
synopsis: when gojo satoru first fell in love with you content: teen gojo era, fem!reader, gojo is head over heels (love at first sight), hopeless!romantic gojo, 1k+ words of gojo just being an absolute fool in love, not beta read (sorry for any errors!) note: I've been wanting to create a sort of anthology series for some of my favs so here's a test run! I rlly wanna do lil drabbles/oneshots that can both be standalone but also can be read as something continuous revolving around Gojo's story with his soulmate... pls lmk if you'd like to see more of gojo and his mochi (aka you!)
Gojo Satoru didn't entirely know what love was; what with being raised by other people who weren't his actual mother and father, how could he? All he ever knew was a life of being the Honored One, since the day he was born. Nothing but a weapon. Living as the strongest and treated like a god... he never knew what real love felt like. He never knew what it was like to give or receive it. At least, not this way.
Geto Suguru and Ieiri Shoko were his best friends, the closest thing to real family. It wasn't like he didn't have any, at least not while growing up, but were they really family when all they ever did was train him and treat him like the eighth wonder of the world? Unlike everyone else, at least Suguru and Shoko treated him like a human. They loved him for who he was, but didn't hesitate to snap him into place when his ego was too inflated. They were there for him, even when expressing whatever demons that he held within him was hard to manage. If it wasn't for them, he wasn't sure exactly how he'd go about his life. Sure, he'd act like everything was fine and dandy, money could buy him happiness as he had plenty of it... and he was pretty much unstoppable, but the idea of living a life without either of them didn't sit well in his stomach.
So, sure, Satoru did now a bit about love, at least the love he felt for his best friends, but nothing like what he felt in this moment. The moment his eyes first fell on you.
He hadn't a clue as to who you were, only seeing you stroll along the grounds of Jujutsu High with your little uniform. The typical jacket, a skirt beneath, knee high socks, loafers... and your hair in a low ponytail that was held together by an overly large ribbon. Cute was the first thing that came to mind, along with the terrifying sound of his racing heart. Who were you? How come he had never seen you before? Maybe it was because he didn't pay attention to any one else besides a handful of people. He'd be lying if he said he was sure the technical college held more than five students. 
In the midst of sipping away at his little box of strawberry milk, walking alongside Suguru and Shoko, Satoru's eyes had aimlessly wandered along his environment as his two best friends had been discussing evening plans. It wasn't like him to care about what was going on around him, so it was quite the miracle that his eyes were looking anywhere but ahead of him... but, maybe this was destiny.
It felt like the world was suddenly moving slowly around him, rather dramatically like a movie. His lips parted as the tiny straw fell out of it, hidden gaze behind his circular frames becoming exposed as the glasses slid down the bridge of his nose. You looked so graceful, the afternoon sun beaming down on you, your smile as bright as his eyes... he had to have been in love. This had to have been love. What else could it have been? Why else was his heart fluttering so quickly? Why else was he caught in a daze by your beauty? No one else, not a single soul, ever caught his attention this way so you must've been his soulmate.
There was something about you, from your gorgeous hair, to the cute bow, down to the uniform and the way it suited your form to the way you... wait, were you laughing with... Nanami Kento? Gojo's heart stopped as his grip on the milk grew tight, causing the contents to squeeze right out and squirt all over his face.
The sound of laughter caught his attention as he quickly looked at his two best friends, embarrassment filling his face as he looked back at you to see you now looking in his direction. Quickly wiping his face and turning away to scold his best friends, Gojo tossed the now empty carton at Geto. "Shut up!"
"What the hell did you do?" Suguru shook his head, wiping his tears as his shoulders shook with every laugh that rumbled throughout his torso. "Losing your cool over a girl, huh?"
"I said shut up!" Satoru snapped, cheeks burning with heat, embarrassed that he was that obvious.
"Must've struck something in him for him to spill milk all over his face like the doofus he is," Shoko snickered as Suguru went for a high five.
Swatting their hands and glaring at the two, Gojo hissed, "nothing happened, I squeezed too hard."
"Right," the two said in sync before eyeing one another, smirking and stifling a laugh.
Shoving past them as he kept walking ahead, grumbling to himself, Gojo couldn't help but peak over in your direction. You had already turned your attention back to the two on either side of you—Nanami along with Yu Haibara. Since when did they have a friend that was a girl? And when did you appear? He should've known seeing as both were his junior and both trained quite close to Suguru and himself. So you must've been new... He supposed he'd find more out about you, knowing he'd find a way to get under Nanami's skin and get anything out of him. He must've known a lot about you...
Gojo smirked to himself. He'd get his way.
"No," Nanami spoke as he crossed his arms. The confidence in Gojo's face instantly fading away. He didn't even hesitate, cancelling his plans with his best friends to bribe Kento into giving him some information. He swore taking his junior to his favorite bakery would help him out, but, no! Kento, being the wise boy he was, took advantage of Satoru paying for food in a false exchange for information. "I'm not going to be your middle man."
"Why not?!" Gojo whined, throwing himself back in his seat dramatically. "Just one thing! Something! Anything! She's the love of my life!"
Narrowing his eyes as he sipped away at his water, Nanami settled the glass down before crossing his arms once again. "Love of your life? You don't even know her name—"
"Because you won't tell me!" Gojo cried, throwing his head back and stomping his foot as if he was about to throw a tantrum. "Please, please! I beg of you, tell me something about her! Besides her name, what's her favorite color? Maybe her favorite food? Or... or what's her favorite date spot!"
"Satoru, I am not about to ask her what her favorite date spot is," Nanami deadpanned. "I'll give you her name and that's all. Everything else is on you. I'm not going to play matchmaker, let alone, set you up with someone so far out of your league."
Gasping in offense, Gojo clutched his chest. "Out of my league? Sure, she's a pure angel, a real heavenly being, but I like to think I am, too!"
"Egotistical..." Kento mumbled as Gojo frowned. "I'm only telling you one thing to get you off my back. You can't ask me anything ever again in order to get close to her. That's on you."
Pressing his hands together and interlocking his fingers, Gojo gave his best puppy eyes as he jutted out his bottom lip. "Please, I promise to leave you be after!"
"You better," the blond man grumbled before giving his senior your name. "She likes to sit under the cherry blossoms on the eastern side of the campus. If you want to find her and talk to her, she's usually there on her down time." At that, Nanami stood up and tucked his seat back into the table. Just as he was about to leave, he stopped in his tracks, turning to face the white haired young man. "All I ask of you is to be... gentle. She's a nice girl. I don't need you breaking her heart."
Sitting up with confidence as a wide grin took over his face, Satoru nodded with his thumbs up. "Believe me, I wont! I know this is love!" Seeing Nanami roll his eyes before leaving, Gojo happily sighed before looking out the window. Leaning his chin in the palm of his hand, he eyed the cherry blossom that had petals delicately swaying in the wind. "She's my soulmate, I know we are destined to be."
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koling2345 · 23 days
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Grumpy
fem!reader X Simon Riley
Summary: You're always grumpy in the morning, and Simon always 'fix' it.
Tw:Smut, unprotected sex.
A/n: First time posting here, just because this man doesn't leave my mind😭 This masked man😣 Sorry for any mistakes, English is not my first language
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫
By then Simon knew that you were far from being a morning person, on the contrary, you hated waking up early with all your soul.
But over time he learned to get used to you, waking you up with a session of kisses and hugs, pampering you until you improved your mood a little.
But nothing worked better than having his cock deep inside you, sliding in and out of your pussy, moving in a tantalizing way.
‘Fucking spoiled brat’.” Simon growls in your ear, his tattooed arm wrapped around you, balancing you as he fucks you from behind.
He wasn't angry with you, far from it, after all, how could he be angry when you moaned so sweetly for him? Your head buried in the pillow as you whimpered, calling his name again and again.
It was obvious that you couldn't form any coherent sentences given that he was pounding into you like crazy, but he knew you were loving it, since you were squeezing him almost painfully hard.
“You just need a cock to start the day, don't you?” He teased as he gave you a particularly sharp thrust, eliciting a loud whimper from you.
You were already a mess, you'd cum once while he was massaging your clit, now you were approaching the second time while he was fucking you hard.
He was all honeyed with your fluids, his cock base had a ring of liquids formed on it, all your sweet juices staining it.As if that wasn't enough, you also couldn't deny that the weight of him on top of you turned you on in a frightening way, just feeling his huge, muscular body covering yours, you felt your cunt clench around his dick.
By this point Simon had stopped trying to understand whatever strange language was coming out of your mouth, because you weren't making any sense.
The only coherent thing coming out of you were moans and whimpers, nothing else.Your mind only became an even bigger mess when Simon started kissing and nibbling your neck, one arm supporting you, while his free hand went down to your breasts and held on tight, squeezing and softening the flesh.
“Fucking nice tits.” He murmurs in a deep voice, making you dizzy with the sensation of his balls slapping against you.
“Si- si- I'm gonna-” you stuttered, rolling your eyes and tucking your head back into the pillow once more.
He grinned in response, knowing that you needed a little push to get there, just a little. So he did.
Simon came out of you in one swift movement, making you moan at the ache the emptiness brought you.
Which didn't last long.
The next thing you felt was his cock entering you all at once, barely giving you time to get used to his huge size and thickness. And fuck if he didn't love feeling the way your cunt stretched to accommodate him, how your walls tightened around him like a vice.
When he did it, it was over for you, you just came, just like that.
You squeezed him and gushed out your orgasm, making a mess of him once again.Simon didn't take long after that, he always waited for you to come first, and then he'd get frantic.It was no longer about getting you there, but about him reaching the peak of his pleasure.
Then he would slam into you in a sloppy, abrupt way, driving his hips into you with force.You could have sworn you were going to faint from how good it felt.
But the best feeling was yet to come.
“ Stay still. You'll take it, yeah? I don't want a drop out.” He hissed in your ear, holding your hips and preventing you from moving.
With one last hard thrust, he spurts his seed into you, grunting as he does so. Something that never failed to turn you on was the noises he made in bed, especially when he came like that.
His hot cum flooded into you and filled you up, and he didn't take his cock out of you until he was sure he had cum all the way inside you.
When you'd both recovered from the high, he lay down next to you and pulled you into a hug, pulling the covers over you both.
“Mood better?” He asked, running his hands through your hair.
“Mhm.” You mumble, hiding your face from him.
“Use words.” He retorts, lifting your chin, just to see the satisfied expression on your face.
“Yeah, a little.” You whisper.
He was satisfied, not that it bothered him, because he wouldn't have minded giving you a second round if necessary. Simon wasn't one to reject sex with you, so waking up every morning like this was nice.
And he'd be lying if he didn't say he was already daydreaming about the next morning.
He could certainly have you in a mating press the next morning.
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honeypiehotchner · 1 month
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Juno (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- one shot
Hello again! This goes from zero to 100 in two seconds flat don't @ me!! Sabrina's new album came out and reawakened something in me (everyone say thank you Sabrina) (also this is not beta'd I wrote this in a short n' sweet haze)
Summary: Aaron is working from home but what paperwork he needs to do is the absolute last thing on your mind.
Warnings: smut! 18+ only! this is so filthy! in no particular order: multiple orgasms, cockwarming, choking, brat tendencies, stoplight system, unprotected sex, breeding kink (briefly), face fucking, overstimulation
WC: like 3,400 I lost my damn mind clearly
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You’re not sure what’s gotten into you. Blame it on period hormones (probably) or the fact that Aaron looks absolutely delicious right now in his tight black t-shirt (most likely), but you’re going to go insane if either of you have clothes on for another five minutes. 
The problem is, Aaron is trying to focus. It’s one of his days where he works from home, an idea you gave him when you realized how easy it would be for him to do the same paperwork just from the comfort of your living room. It was a brilliant idea at first. You got to see him more, and were able to do your own thing around the house while he did his work. You got to have lunch together, and offer a genuine mental break in between his mountain of paperwork. 
Now, though, you can’t find it in you to give a single fuck about whatever needs to be signed, who needs to clear what, and what phone calls he still needs to make. 
“Honey,” you call sweetly from the kitchen. You watch him from over the island, your thoughts going all sorts of ways -- namely, deep into the gutter. “Want to break for lunch?”
You see Aaron shake his head, still typing furiously on his laptop. “It’s not even noon yet.”
“Brunch?” you try again, walking out of the kitchen. You lean against the doorframe, crossing your arms over your chest in the way you know he loves because of the view it gives him of your cleavage. And you’re wearing a v-neck shirt today for that exact reason, too.
Aaron still doesn’t look up. “I’m sorry honey, maybe in an hour?”
You let out a huff that you know he hears because he finally looks up, eyebrows raised just so. It’s a look that you love. Curious, veering toward that playful annoyance that you can’t seem to go a few hours without his undivided attention. 
Which, you can, by the way. You’re more than capable. It’s just that right now, it’s a crime that his eyes have been looking at paperwork when they should be looking at you.
“Are you okay?” he asks, and there’s some hesitation in his voice. You know he’s assuming the worst. That you’re not okay mentally, and that’s why you need him to take his lunch break now or maybe for the rest of the day. He’s done it before on your darker days.
But you’re okay. You’re perfectly fine. You’d just be even better if he put the damn laptop away and put his fingers to use somewhere else.
Which is exactly why you come to a stop in front of him and reach forward, tilting his screen down and down until it closes. He lets you.
He lets you take his laptop and put it on the table beside the couch. He watches you, his fiery brown eyes taking in every second. He lets you straddle his hips, your arms circling his neck.
“I see now,” he smirks, his hands finding their rightful place on your waist and squeezing lovingly. “By ‘lunch break’ you mean…”
“Put a baby in me,” you blurt, rocking your hips against his.
He stills, his hands making you stop your movements, too. His eyes are darker now in a way you haven’t seen in a while. “What?”
“Please,” you say, leaning your forehead down onto his, trying to move your hips again. “Need you.”
“Honey, we can’t have--”
“Yes I know the semantics, Aaron,” you mutter, now annoyed and lifting your head to glare at him. He has a vasectomy, you get that. “I mean fuck me like you’re putting a baby in me.”
His hands squeeze again. “I see.”
You frown. “Don’t tease me.”
“I’m not,” he smirks, one hand leaving your waist to stroke your cheek. “You’re adorable when you’re horny.”
You roll your eyes, peeling yourself off his lap. He lets you go, albeit with a curious look. You turn and head for the bedroom.
“Where are you going?” he calls out after you, still with that damn smirk lacing his words.
“To get myself off,” you reply in a deadpan. “Since someone--”
You don’t have a chance to finish your sentence before Aaron is right behind you, hands on your hips, spinning you around to face him. That look full of fire is back again, stern this time.
“Did I say you could do that?” he says in a low tone.
“Did I ask?” you retort, backing out of his grasp and darting into the bedroom. 
Now there’s a smirk on your lips. It’s quickly approaching shit-eating grin territory, which you know will only egg Aaron on further. This little game of cat and mouse happens to be your favorite, and he knows it.
You’re barely two steps into the bedroom when Aaron is attached to your back yet again, this time wrapping his arms around your waist, locking you in.
“Color?” he whispers, his lips right at your ear, sending shivers straight down your spine.
You groan. “Green. Neon green. So green, I need you to--”
He spins you again, this time backing you into the wall and attacking your lips. Finally, you think, though you know you’re in for it now. The thought has a grin crawling up your lips, and you’re unable to stop it.
“What’s so funny, hm?” he scolds, moving his lips to your neck instead, to the exact spot he knows makes you weak in the knees. Like clockwork, he has to wrap an arm around your waist to keep you upright, your knees buckling when he bites down just so.
“Nothing,” you manage through a moan, tipping your head back onto the wall. “Shit.”
“You’re ridiculous sometimes, you know,” he says, but he’s smiling against your skin. “Can’t let me focus on work because you need me to fuck you.”
“In my defense,” you try, your hands scrambling for his shoulders, for something to ground you. “You didn’t fuck me this morning.”
“I fucked you last night,” he reminds you, as if you needed the reminder. It’s the reason you slept so soundly. “Was that not enough?”
You can’t help it; you laugh. 
He lifts his head, raising an eyebrow at you. The same question as before on his lips.
“Sorry, I thought you were joking,” you say. 
“You’re insatiable.” 
“Guilty,” you grin, grabbing his face and pulling him back in for another kiss.
You make out against the wall for too long like two teenagers behind the bleachers at school. You hook one leg around his hips, pulling him in and grinding against his obvious erection. It’s enough to have him groaning into your mouth, pressing you against the wall with renowned vigor. 
You can feel how wet you’re becoming and fuck, neither of you have even taken a single article of clothing off yet.
Aaron notices, one hand traveling south without you paying attention, too busy relishing the way he licks into your mouth, stealing your every breath. The kissing becomes increasingly sloppy when he works his hand into your leggings, under the waistband of your underwear, and into you.
“Oh my god,” your back arches against the wall, pushing his fingers deeper. He doesn’t bother with one, starting right away with two, curling them when you grind harder.
“You’re soaking my hand,” he practically growls into the next kiss, adding a third finger after only a few thrusts. Your body accepts it willingly, always ready for him. “Jesus.”
“More,” you gasp, pushing him deeper. “Aaron, more, I’m serious--” Your words break off as he scissors his fingers, making your eyes roll back instantly.
“I can feel you already,” he smirks against your cheek, pressing a kiss there, an action so sweet and gentle compared to what the rest of him is doing. “Come on, honey. You’re cumming as many times as you want.”
That makes you inch closer to the edge at a frightening speed. He says you can cum as many times as you want, but what he means is he’s going to force as many orgasms out of you as he can. Until you tell him to stop or he decides you need a break. 
The thought of being an overstimulated mess in his embrace later has you climaxing against his fingers, your head falling onto his shoulder as his movements never cease, milking every last wave out of you. 
You lift your head in search of his lips again, which he willingly gives to you, his fingers slowing to soothing strokes as you whimper into his mouth. You’ve only had one orgasm and you already feel ruined. He can tell the way you tremble against him, so he checks in once more.
“Green?” he whispers, kissing your forehead.
You nod. “Green. You?”
He smirks. “Absolutely.”
He picks you up into his arms, inelegantly tossing you onto the bed behind you. You giggle as you bounce on the mattress, tugging your shirt over your head as he does the same to his. His hands move for his belt and you practically jump to the end of the bed, swatting his hands away.
“Since when is that your job?” you frown up at him, unbuckling his belt without looking.
He laughs, petting your head gently. “So sorry, you’re right.”
“What was that?” you tease. “I don’t think I heard you.”
“Don’t push it.”
“I have no idea what you mean,” you smirk, pulling his belt out of the loops and tossing it somewhere. You don’t wait for him to reply before you unbutton his jeans, yanking them down with his boxers.
There’s just something about his dick. You hate that you love it, or maybe you don’t hate it at all. All you know is you need it in your mouth right now.
So, you do that, without any warning. Aaron thrusts forward into your mouth on pure instinct, not expecting you to wrap your lips around him so soon. You slide down the edge of the bed onto your knees, pulling him back to you by his thighs. 
You take your time, pushing his jeans and boxers down further. When you pull back for air, he steps out of them and kicks them elsewhere, returning to you quickly, knowing better than to keep you waiting. 
You swallow him down again, moaning around him in the way you know he loves. It takes all of two seconds before he gently holds the back of your head, asking silently for permission that you were already about to grant. You look up at him, batting your eyelashes as you squeeze his thigh twice. Go ahead.
The thing about Aaron fucking your face is that it took a while for him to do it as hard as you really wanted. He’s always so gentle, a quality that drew you to him initially. You love how gentle he can be. But you love it equally as much when he is rougher with you.
Like now, when he has you pinned against the bed, one hand on the back of your head as he fucks into your throat. It’s blissful, quite frankly, the way he feels, and you thank the universe every time for your lack of a gag reflex. 
He holds you there with a deep groan, and you feel him twitch in your throat once before he pulls you off entirely. You frown up at him, once again not getting what you wanted, but he doesn’t have any time for that.
He picks you up by your armpits, hauling you back onto the bed. Your leggings and underwear are gone in a single second, along with your bra. He’s crawling up your body and crowding your space before you have a second to protest that he wasn’t down your throat for near as long as you wanted him to be. 
All frustrations leave your mind the second he pushes inside of you, immediately sliding home, his hips flush against yours. 
It’s a feeling you’ve grown to love, the way he hits you so deep. Another thing it took him a while to be comfortable doing.
He’s not average sized by any means, and you’re the first to admit it made you salivate the first time you saw. The first time he fed himself into you and worried that he was hurting you, meanwhile you were clawing his back because you wanted more. It hurt for a moment, only an uncomfortable pressure because he was bigger than your vibrator, but as soon as you were used to the size of him, you wanted all of him.
He stays there, deep in you without moving for a moment, grinding against you. His lips attack yours again before he pauses to lean his forehead on yours, trying to catch his breath.
“You drive me crazy,” he says on a shaky exhale.
You wrap your legs around him, thrusting your hips up to take him a little more. His hips stutter, pushing in the way you wanted him to, the way you know you can make him do involuntarily.
“Fuck,” he bites out, turning his attention to your neck again.
You thread your fingers through his hair, tugging. “Exactly. So why aren’t you moving?”
He nips at your neck. “Because if I move, I will cum right away.”
“Who said I only want you to cum inside me once?”
He groans again, fingers digging into your hips as you circle them, though he doesn’t try to stop you. “Greedy” is all he says, but he finally moves.
The thrusts are slow at first, Aaron clearly trying to pace himself. You can’t say you’re doing the same, already chasing your second high as he slams his hips into yours. Your hand reaches down to rub your clit, but is promptly smacked away by Aaron’s hand as he glares at you.
“Since when is that your job?” he echoes you from earlier, only this time, there’s more heat to it. He grabs both of your wrists, pinning them above your head to stop any other temptation. “Not this time.”
His thrusts pick up speed and depth, his body moving against yours in the exact way that makes you fall apart. It’s not often that he doesn’t let you cum from added clit stimulation -- not that you can’t without it; it just makes the high feel that much better -- but sometimes he does. It’s an ego trip for him as much as it is for you.
It also adds an unpredictable nature to it, which is why your second orgasm takes you by such surprise. You seize against him, your hands doing all sorts of squirming to try to break free of his grasp, but he doesn’t let you, and he doesn’t let up. You don’t realize why until you feel the warmth spreading into you as he reaches his own peak. 
You’ve clearly worked him up as much as you worked yourself up because his thrusts barely slow down, and he doesn’t soften inside of you. 
Instead, he pulls out only to flip you on your side, sliding in behind you and pulling your leg up and back over his hips. The action causes some of his cum to spill out of you, but you don’t have any time to focus on that before he fucks back into you. 
You’ve ceased to have any coherent thoughts as Aaron whispers dirty nothings into your ear, one arm wrapped around your body to keep you pinned against him. The pleasure doesn’t stop and at one point, you question if your second orgasm stopped at all or if it has continued this entire time.
Aaron reaches underneath the pillow where he knows he’ll find one of your vibrators because he heard you using it this morning. No, he didn’t fuck you this morning, but you fucked yourself, and truly, at 8am, he should’ve known you’d end up like this by eleven. 
Your mind doesn’t register what the sound means until the vibrator is pressed against your clit. Your body jerks, scrambling for some grounding, your hands finding it in wrapping them around his arm. 
He switches hands on the vibrator, so one hand is free to wrap around your throat. Your eyes roll back as soon as you feel the gentle pressure, your body practically going limp against him. 
“Come on, sweetheart,” he murmurs directly into your ear, his thrusts slowing to deep strokes. “You’ve got a couple more in you.”
“A couple?” is all you manage to say, your hand squeezing his wrist so he knows to squeeze your throat a little more.
“Mhm,” his voice rumbles in your ear, sending goosebumps all over your body. “Is it too much?” His question is laced with just the right amount of pity that makes you shake your head against him. “I thought so,” he replies, switching the vibrator to a higher setting.
It sends you into your third orgasm instantly, squirming violently against him as he pushes into you deeper. He knows how much you love that, and loves how much you squeeze around him as he slides inside, fighting against your muscles that threaten to force him out. You’ve done it before, a mesmerized look on his face and yours when you both realized what happened. Since then, you told him you liked it more when he fought to stay inside. 
He takes the vibrator away as you calm down, his hips also pausing, keeping himself deep inside you. The pressure is soothing, and you take a moment to take a deep breath. His palm falls away from your throat, instead propping underneath your cheek.
It takes a few seconds before you feel yourself spasming around him. He chuckles against your back, pressing a kiss to your neck. “Still?”
You nod dumbly, rocking your hips again. “Yeah. I don’t know, I just-- Need more.”
“I’ve got you,” he soothes, pulling out again to roll you onto your stomach instead, one of your favorite positions.
You’re floating as you settle into the pillows, letting Aaron manhandle you wherever you need to be. You groan in your happy, blissed out state as he slides home again, draping himself over your back.
He is gentler now, knowing that’s exactly what you need at this point. The last orgasm he pulls from you is just as gentle, and he pushes deeper into you, letting you ride it out. 
He pulls your hips up and thrusts once, twice before he’s spilling into you. You didn’t realize he was that close again. The warmth is soothing this time as it spreads through you. 
Aaron leaves you only to settle behind you, spooning you once again. Your hand reaches behind you to find him, and he catches your wrist. 
“You need to rest,” he chides softly.
“I know,” you whimper. “Need you inside me.”
“Okay, okay,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your neck as he slides in again, still half-hard, but it’s enough. You settle down as soon as the weight of him is tucked inside you again. “Better?”
“Mhm,” you sleepily nod, pushing back into him so he holds you tighter. “Do you have to go back to work?”
He chuckles against you, sighing. “No, I’m done for the day, I think,” he says. “I’ll tell them you weren’t feeling well.”
That makes you laugh. “We need a better excuse.”
“Or I need to go back to working in the office.”
You roll your eyes. “Like that’ll make a difference.”
He shakes his head, his mind remembering the same memories that you are. The many lunch hours when you went to eat with him, and ended up with your back pressed into the couch, his tie stuffed in your mouth to keep you quiet.
“Go to sleep,” he says, pulling you impossibly closer. “I’ll make us lunch when we wake up.”
“Perfect,” you smile, nuzzling into him. “Love you.”
“Love you too, honey,” he says, pressing little kisses to your neck and cheeks, wherever he can reach. “Now sleep.”
You’re already halfway there. The combination of him nestled inside of you and the post-orgasm exhaustion is enough to lull you into a restful sleep.
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vroomvro0mferrari · 5 months
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LN4 | Dutch Courage
Summary: When Max Verstappen invites Lando to celebrate King’s Day with him, he can hardly refuse. Especially when it’s a great opportunity to spend time with the Dutch man’s sister.
Lando Norris x Verstappen!Reader
WC: 2.9K
Warnings: Alcohol (over)consumption, curse words
Masterlist
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The first time Lando really came in contact with the Dutch culture was during his first Dutch Grand Prix. The atmosphere of the race, the enthusiasm of the people, and the taste of stroopwafels immediately made him like the Netherlands. When Max introduced him to more Dutch traditions and told him about the extreme celebrations of the King’s birthday, he couldn’t believe it. His experiences with the Queen’s birthday were completely different, much more sophisticated and ceremonial than the Dutch celebrations. You could say he was gobsmacked when he saw the videos; people dressed all in orange, filling the streets and canals, drunkenly partying like it was a festival. When Max extended an invitation to join him next April, Lando accepted straight away, eager to experience the unique tradition.
And so, next April 27th, Lando found himself in Amsterdam. He was passing tons of people stalling out their stuff on blankets, sitting on folding chairs by their improvised shops. They were all dressed in orange, of course. Lando, himself, had also adhered to the dress code. Sporting his orange hoodie, he’s ready to party all day long.
Lando made his way through the city, Google maps opened on his phone as he navigated the streets of Amsterdam. Luckily, Max’s apartment building was easy to find. Lando rang the doorbell, grinning when he spotted his Dutch friend. Lando could already hear the noise coming from the apartment while he greeted Max, the sound of music and singing passing through the walls.
“Hey man, what’s up?” He asked.
“Nothing much. What about you?” Max responded while welcoming Lando into his second home, leading him into the hallway.
Lando was about to answer his question, but the unexpected sight in the living room disrupted his train of thought. A confused frown etched itself onto his face, and he asked, “Why are there so many girls in your house? Don’t you have a girlfriend already?”
Max laughed at the question, “Oh yeah, they're my sister’s friends,” he responded nonchalantly as if they weren’t appropriating his apartment.
“You sister’s friends? Why are they taking over your place?”
“They’re getting ready to go out in a bit. Since I live closer to the centre than Y/N, they’re leaving from here. I told them to stay the night too, I don’t want Y/N and her friends to travel home in the middle of the night when they’re all drunk.”
Lando nodded as he observed the herd of girls getting ready. It was a mess – even compared to how his sisters got ready. They were doing lots of things at the same time: passing the phone around to pick music, singing along to whatever Dutch song was playing, taking pictures, talking, doing their makeup, fixing their hair, picking out accessories and putting flags on their faces; it was complete chaos, but they didn’t seem to mind.
“I’ll get you some water, mate,” Max said before walking to the kitchen, leaving Lando alone with the women. 
It took a while for Y/N to spot Lando, but when she did, she came over right away. “Lando! How are you? I haven’t seen you in such a long time!” She said excitedly as she pulled him in for a hug.
“I’m good. It’s your fault we haven’t seen each other in so long, you never come to races anymore,” 
“Yeah, sorry about that. Life’s been busy. So, I hear today’s your first King’s Day, are you excited?”
Lando chuckled, “Ah, yes it is. Of course, I’m excited. I’ve been told it’s quite the experience!”
“It certainly is. I would’ve expected you to wear more orange though, isn’t it your team’s colour?” She questioned him teasingly.
“Is my hoodie not enough?” He asked, looking down at his outfit.
“Oh Lando, you know it’s not! Didn’t Max show you the videos? Come, I’ll put some flags on your face,” she said as she pulled him into the group of girls. 
They all greeted him enthusiastically as Y/N searched through the pile of orange and red-white-and-blue-coloured accessories, looking for something that would fit Lando. She pulled out a ribbon of the Dutch flag and grinned widely. Lando stood still as Y/N wrapped the ribbon around his head like a headband and tied it with a bow. “Very coquette, I’m sure your lady fans will love it,” she murmured and grabbed his jaw to turn his face to the side. A look of focus overtook her features as she gently applied the face paint to Lando’s cheeks. 
Lando was caught off guard at the situation he found himself in. He had barely stepped foot in the apartment and he was already being pulled in all kinds of directions as the whirlwind of women fussed over him, dressing him up for their sacred holiday. He caught Max’s eyes over Y/N’s shoulder, silently pleading for rescue, but Max merely laughed at the situation in which Lando had trapped himself, not offering any assistance. Instead, he stood by and watched with amusement as Y/N picked out things for Lando to wear and offered him an orange poncho for the rain that would probably come later today. Lando had no choice but to go along with it, accepting everything as it came. It was only a small effort for him, and it seemed to make her happy.
Y/N only let Lando go once she was satisfied with his outfit. He quickly rushed to Max, who offered him a glass of water with a big grin on his face, “She got you, eh?”
“Apparently, my orange hoodie was not enough,” he responded.
Max pat him on the back, “Don’t worry, I was a victim earlier,” he replied, pointing to his cheeks covered with face paint.
Not much later, the girls finally settled down. They were nearly ready to leave, the only thing they needed before heading off was a decent meal. If they were going to get wasted, they should at least have a good base. Y/N and her friends had organised a feast that could feed everyone and then some, with food left to spare. After the generous lunch was consumed, the women had some drinks to get a headstart before they packed their purses, making sure they had all the essentials covered. They divided the tiny bottles of alcohol they had bought in advance, and Lando watched in shock and disbelief as every girl shoved at least two tiny bottles down their bra. Meanwhile, Max seemed entirely unimpressed – as neutral as one could be.
Y/N and her friends had gotten tickets to Kingsland and the alcohol there was way too expensive to get drunk. If they needed to sneak in some alcohol to get properly pissed, that was a problem easily solved. The girls said goodbye and headed out the door, leaving silence in their wake.
The men didn’t leave that much later and headed over to the boat where they would meet Martijn, aka, Martin Garrix, with whom Max and Lando were both good friends. They would spend their time partying on the boat, getting just as drunk as Y/N and her friends before joining Martijn for his performance at Kingsland, where they’d meet up with the girls.
It was hours, and a shit ton of drinks, later when Max called Y/N to let her know they arrived at the festival grounds. In the meantime, a lot had happened: Y/N’s group of friends had gained at least three more people, Lando had cut his nose open on a glass bottle, and Max, somehow, managed to fall off the boat.
Y/N was dancing with her group of friends, going crazy for the songs the DJ was playing when she suddenly felt hands on her shoulders. She turned around immediately, surprised at the presence of a new person and ready to defend herself against whoever decided to touch her. That is, until she noticed the person behind her was Lando. As soon as she recognised the man, she, very drunkenly, jumped onto him. Y/N claimed she hadn’t seen him in so long as she put her entire body weight on the man who, unsuspecting of the move and unstable from the amount of alcohol he had consumed, nearly fell over. Y/N giggled innocently at the interaction, holding Lando’s arms tightly to prevent their fall. She looked up at his face while she did so, noticing the bandage on his nose.
“What did you do?” She slurred, frowning concernedly while running a hand along his face. That wasn’t a good choice; she lost her balance as soon as her hand left Lando’s arm. Lando, his own state not much better, grabbed her waist, trying to stop her wobbling.
“Got hit in the face with a broken beer bottle,” he replied with a grin and Y/N giggled at the image forming in her mind. 
“That’s so stupid. Did it hurt?” she asked.
Lando laughed loudly, “No, I’m too drunk to feel anything.”
Even though the comment is not that funny, Y/N couldn’t help but laugh, nearly toppling over.
The group, now including Max and Lando, stood in the crowd, dancing to the music playing as it became busier in anticipation of Martin Garrix’s performance. The field they were standing in became more crowded by the second, pressing them closer to each other. There was barely any space left to move, packed like sardines in a can. When there were people who tried to pass, Y/N’s back was pressed tightly against Lando. So tightly that she could feel the warmth radiating off his body and his breath hitting her neck; so tightly that it made Max send Lando a warning glare. But it didn’t matter when everyone was drunk and there were too many people between them for Max to do anything other than stare angrily.
When Martijn began his set everyone cheered and moved along to the music. In Y/N’s current position, she was nearly grinding against Lando, but he didn’t seem to mind, holding her close with one hand while the other held his drink in the air. Nevertheless, she turned around, wanting to avoid conflict between her brother and Lando, and any pictures and rumours that would most likely arise when people spotted the world-famous Formula 1 drivers. That didn’t mean she’d avoid his touch, though; throwing her arms over his shoulders while he held her waist, they kept dancing together.
Martijn’s set ended way sooner than they would’ve liked it to, and it was only a while longer before the group left Kingsland for his penthouse. After all, when you’re invited to Martin Garrix’s after-party by the man himself, you cannot refuse. 
Somehow, they managed to get to his penthouse safely, where they kept the party going until at least midnight. Most of the people Martijn invited left after the fireworks, leaving a smaller group of people occupying the rooftop. After standing, dancing and jumping all day and night, the group finally found somewhere to sit for a while – just to let their legs rest. But, as luck would have it, there weren’t enough seats, because when are there ever? Before Y/N could even suggest she’d stand, Lando, in his drunken stupor, had already pulled her down to sit on his lap.
He smiled triumphantly as she sat, “You looked tired,” is all he said to justify it.
Despite her surprise, Y/N welcomed the closeness and leaned into Lando, resting her body against his while she sipped her Aperol and joined the ongoing discussion. It was the perfect way to end her night – surrounded by her friends, joking around and enjoying her drink. She enjoyed the drunken conversation, giggling whenever Lando would whisper a funny remark in her ear about whatever stupid comment someone just uttered. His commentary was so distracting that she didn’t even notice when he put his hand on her thigh and tightened his hold on her waist, pulling her closer.
Max, however, did notice. He had been keeping an eye on Lando since their interaction at Kingsland when Y/N was basically grinding on Lando. Knowing a warning glare didn’t do much last time, Max was ready to do just about anything to make his objections clear if Lando decided to take things too far in his presence. Especially when he saw Lando’s hand moving higher up Y/N’s leg while she solely giggled in his arms. It’s an understatement to say the alcohol made Lando bolder – he felt fucking fearless as he kept his gaze locked on Y/N, not removing his eyes for even a second, not until a loud voice interrupts the conversation, at least.
“Hey, mate, let’s keep it PG, yeah?” The tone of Max’s voice made the words sound a lot less casual and jovial than they usually would and Y/N’s cheeks flared up when she noticed he was referring to her and Lando. Lando’s hands shot up, as if Y/N’s warm skin burned his hands, lifting them in a gesture of surrender.
“Sorry man, didn’t even notice it,” he replied.
Max glowered at him, showing he was not messing around before returning to his conversation.
When Max’s attention shifted away from them, Lando tentatively placed his hand back. The alcohol running through his veins made him ballsy and fearless as he continued to make comments in Y/N’s ear. This time, she noticed his moving hand, a blush rising to her cheeks in anticipation of Max’s reaction. But he wasn’t paying attention to the two of them, not until he heard his sister laughing boisterously. Startled at the sound, his eyes darted over to the pair, widening in disbelief when he spotted Lando’s wandering hand edging closer to the hem of your skirt once again. Max’s instincts immediately kicked in at the sight – the audacity of this man.
“That’s enough, Norris. Hands off,” he commanded, his tone firm..
Lando’s confidence faltered under Max’s scrutinising gaze, and he removed his hand immediately. “Sorry, man,” he said, blushing at the attention. Max, too, had been drinking all day, and Lando didn’t want to risk another injury; the cut on his nose was enough for today.
Lando’s sudden change in behaviour was obvious to Y/N; his uncertainty and reluctance to touch her were palpable. In an attempt to reassure him, she leaned her head against his shoulder, cuddling into him while she kept the conversation going. She made eye contact with her brother, whose unrelenting glare softened at her comfort. All he wanted to do was to protect Y/N, but it now felt unnecessary as she seemed entirely at ease with Lando.
At some point during the night, Y/N took the initiative and grabbed Lando’s hand, placing it on her thigh. Lando was apprehensive at the gesture, looking over at Max to see his reaction, but he was focused on his sister. He watched her play with Lando’s hand, fiddling with his fingers and giggling into the crook of his neck. Max shifted his eyes to Lando, nodding at him before returning to his conversation – a sign of approval. If his sister was okay with it, initiating and encouraging it even, then he would accept it.
They stayed in the same position until people started to leave. When Y/N’s friends mentioned heading home, Max suggested everyone should go back, not wanting the girls to walk home alone while they were wasted. It took little convincing to get everyone into the elevator and out to the street to start the short journey (although much longer when drunk) back to his apartment. 
Lando and Y/N were walking next to each other, rounding up the group while Max was busy herding Y/N’s friends through the city. They were leaning on each other as they stumbled through the streets, laughing at Max who was frantically chasing the girls to make sure they took the right turns.
When they finally got back to Max’s apartment, the chaos of the night followed them inside as Max helped everyone to their beds. He had basically adopted Y/N’s friends as his sisters by now, fussing over them throughout the night. Occupied with the girls, Max doesn’t notice Lando following his sister into her bedroom. He sprawled himself out on the bed, barely kicking off his shoes, while Y/N got herself ready to sleep. 
She stumbled over to the bed while Lando watched her, both of them giggling as she nearly tripped over the shoes scattered around the floor. She curled up next to him on the bed, her body fitting perfectly against his. As they drifted to sleep, their whispers slowly faded into silence until the only sounds that remained were the soft snores from the cuddled-up couple, and the quiet stomps of Max trying to catch Y/N's giggling friends.
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jyoongim · 7 months
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Heyyy, it’s me again, the singer anon. Can I request an Alastor x Reader where she is sent by as a spy by Vox after our fav slithery boy failed? She’s really bubbly and friendly, but she eventually grows to care for everyone in the hotel but Vox owns her soul. She torn in between getting herself killed by him and not betraying anyone anymore, or continuing the job. She goes and confesses to Alastor, breaking down and thinking he’ll kill her, which she thinks would be best so she doesn’t have to betray anyone anymore. Just breaking down in tears telling him she doesn’t want to hurt anyone but Vox has her under a contract, begging him to kill her so she doesn’t have to. Just for Alastor to call her a good girl and ughhhh some possessive smut if you don’t mind? Sorry brain rots in my head and I’m in love with him, lol. Thank you! <3 also the three requests story set off the trigger in my head, loved it! Thanks again! <3!
This been in my inbox for weeks and i finally got a plot for it!
⚠️warning: 18+! Smut smut smut! Plot if you look hard enough!
—————————————————————————————
No one suspected a thing.
You were sent to the Hazbin Hotel after Sir Pentious miserable attempt.
Your orders were simple: ”Keep an eye out on that old fossil. I want to know why that fucker is sucking up the Lucifer’s daughter”
And you did just that…you were executing your mission flawlessly.
Until you began to care about those who stayed at the hotel.
Until you began to grow closer to the Radio Demon.
————————————————————————————
You had been staying at the hotel for a few months now and its been great!
Charlie was always finding new ways to help the residents build bonds and encouraging everyone to do their best.
At first, you were arrogant, playing along until you actually saw the the demons there were actually changing even if they didn’t admit it
But now, you thought of the princess as a friend, along with everyone else.
Especially Alastor.
Now that you’ve been around him, you’re not sure why Vox hate the demon so much.
Alastor was funny, kind (in his own twisted way), and truly looked after the hotel.
A soft smile curled on your lips as you thought about the demon, but the ringing of your phone interrupted such thoughts.
Vox.
You took a deep breath and answered “H-Hello?”
”Tonight’s your chance to take out that prick and after that come home” he demanded.
You blinked “what? B-but Vox…” you bit your lips “But it’s actually nice here. The hotel isn’t a scam…a-and everyone is a lot nicer than we thought ” Vox laughed “Oh baby please! Nice? You actually believe in that redemption crap? You think that they’ll let you stay if they knew why you truly were there? Hahaha! Oh my dumb little girl, how naive you are. ” 
You pouted, a frown on your face “I want to stay”
Vox growled through the phone “ah ah baby you don’t make demands remember?” 
Electrical shocks ran through your body from the collar you wore.
You gasped in pain “I OWN you. Did you forget that? You do whatever I say when I say it. Now I expect you home before morning or I will kill you.”
The phone call ended and you were in tears.
You didn’t want to go back. 
You liked being at the hotel and able to be yourself. 
You liked the friends you had made here.
You would do anything for them, even if you had to die to make your wrongs right.
————————————————————————
“Come in” the voice answered after you knocked on the door. You were sweating as you stood outside of Alastor’s door.
You had decided that if you were going to tell anyone why you were at the hotel, it would be Alastor.
You opened the door and walked into his radio studio.
”Hey Al” you said weakly as the demon spun around and smiled at you “Hello darlin! What do I owe the pleasure?”
You fiddled with your hands.
”I want to tell you why I came to the hotel”
Alastor quirked a eyebrow, smile widening as he gestured for you to take a seat on the couch.
”Do entertain me of your tale my dear”
You were in tears by the time you finished telling Alastor everything.
Of Vox and his plan.
The deal between you and Vox.
The reason you came to the hotel.
Everything.
”I-I’m sorry! So so sorry! I-I just didn’t know what to do!
Kill me! I deserve it! J-Just let me say my goodbyes first. I would rather you kill me than Vox! Please!” You cried, hands covering your face as you sobbed.
Alastor had been quiet for the entirety of your confession. He had half a mind to kill you when you told him of your deal with Vox.
The pesky television didn’t know when to mind his business.
His eyes focused on the collar around your neck.
 You were Vox’s and by contract, he wasn’t allowed to kill you.
And he wasn’t. No he had grown accustom to the pretty demon who seemed to light the hotel’s halls.
However…he could override Vox’s ownership of your soul.
You flinched when you felt a large hand pat the top of your head. You looked up through teary eyes ay Alastor, who just sported a soft smile.
”Now now my dear don’t you worry. I appreciate that you came to and confided in me. What a good girl you are.” His smile stretched as you sniffled, looking at him with glossy eyes.
”Y-Youre not g-gonna k-kill me?” You asked looking down.
He chuckled as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, claws finding their way under your chin to make you look at him
He rolled his eyes ”Oooh my dear of course not…” His fingers trailed down your neck, toying with your collar. “But I am in a bit of predicament”
You wiped at your eyes “how so?”
“Under normal circumstances, I would rip you to shreds and broadcast your screams for all of Hell to hear” his pupils turned to dials and his smiled turned wicked. You felt your heart stop a little.
He calmed down slightly “however I have another idea to break your deal with Vox” 
He smiled at you as you tilted your head in confusion.
”I know just the thing hehehe”
————————————————————————————
You whimpered as you tried to hold yourself up against the force of Alastor’s thrusts. “A-Al!” You whined as the demon tugged your hair to pull your body into his. A deep growl vibrated through you as Alastor sunk into your weeping heat, his cock hitting that soft spot inside you.
“Fuuuucckk!” You hissed, eyes rolling into your skull as your body buzzed with pleasure.
Alastor pulled your body til your back was flushed against his chest, his sharp teeth nipped at your skin before latching on and marking you. You winced as his tongue lapped at the blood, he purred as trailed his tongue up your neck.
”To think Vox had such a sweet cunt all to himself. Ooh darlin you’re wasted on him. But you’ll be a good girl for me wont you? You seem to love having a real cock fucking you” he chortled, giving you a harsh thrust. His hips grinded up into your ass, coaxing your cunt to take every inch over and over.
Your gummy walls tightened around him as you whined at his words. You could barely focus on what he was saying, not giving two shits either as he bullied your insides.
”I-I can be a good girl please please oh fuck! Aah! Aah!” You whined. Alastor’s large hands trailed up your body; kneading, pawing, and squeezing at your supple flesh. Pausing at your bouncing tits to tweak your hardened nipples, sending currents to your abandoned clit.
“I know you will baby” 
He nudges his head into yours, to gain your attention and capture your lips with his, swallowing your moans as one of his hands moves down to toy with your puffy clit.
Your body jerked as he rubbed tight circles on the bud; your cunt fluttering as slick dripped down your thighs.
”Ill make a deal with you darlin” he whispered against your lips, lidded eyes staring into yours, as you mewled, wanting his tongue back down your throat. 
“I keep this little mishap under wraps and in return you belong to me. Youre free to do whatever your heart but im no pushover m,a cherie.”
His thrusts sped up as he pinched your clit.
You keened, pushing your hips back into his, trying to follow the motion of his fingers, seeking to reach your orgasm.
”Do we have a deal?” He purred never breaking his pace.
Your collar let out blue sparks, Vox’s way of ‘reinforcing’ his control over you. You whimpered as the shocks edged you, but Alastor let out a deep growl as he wrapped his claws around the collar.
”Do we have a deal?” A snap of his hips pulled a moan from your throat.
”oh! Yes! Yes! F-fuuuc-cckk”
Static ran through your body causing you to jerk as your orgasm washed over you, your collar fizzled out as Alastor’s cock pounded your cunt, riding your orgasm out.
The wet SQUELCH! Of your cunt echoed as high pitched whines left your throat. 
“That’s a good girl. Cummin all over my cock. Feels better than that robot huh? Yeeesss fuck! Take my cum darlin take it”
Your eyes crossed as your mouth opened in a scream. Alastor crashed his lips on yours, tongue pushing through your lips and pulling you into a heated kiss as he pumped you full of his cum.
Alastor let out a sigh as he slipped out of you, cock coated in creamy essence and smiling as he watched your cunt clench around nothing and dripping cum.
In your dazed state, you faintly heard a snap and a cool sensation coated your neck.
Instead of the sapphire jeweled collar, a gold chained ruby hung from your neck.
Alastor hummed as he rubbed your tired body, smiling wickedly as he slotted back into your soppy heat. You moaned softly as he rolled his hips against you.
”now lets send that mediocre podcast a proper video”
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wrioluvr · 7 months
Text
subby vampire x dom male reader
sorry for being inactive yall teehee just thought about this cute little idea and had to write it... also no sex just a little spicy lmk if yall want to see more of this guy 🤭
★ ; 🦇🍷. . ♱
you did not expect it to rain during your forest hike today. anticipation to dive into the lush green unknown was quickly turned into a wet mess as your scrambled to find shelter, unsure of where you were even going as the gps signal got weaker deeper into the forest you ventured. much to your surprise, you soon came upon a quaint winding road. following it lead to an ancient-looking manor straight out of the victorian era. despite your brain recounting that this was how every horror movie started, you were desperate to be out of the cold, and soon rushed to the grand door to seek warmth. luckily, someone answered the door. a tall, lanky, ghost of a man, who quickly invited you in and fretted over the prospect of you catching a cold. he was a little odd, speaking in such a proper, olden manner, but he was lovely.
despite your initial protests of overstaying your welcome, he managed to convince you to stay for a week. he invited you to join him for dinner everyday, and it was through these meals that you found out quite a lot about him. one, his name was kliff (you swore his face turned red when you said he had a handsome name), and that he was a vampire who was at least a hundred years old (he stopped counting after the 120th year). the way he revealed it was kind of adorable, he was so reluctant at first.
"sooooo, kliff. you're a vampire, right?"
"goodness, whatever gave you that idea? i most certainly am not." his face said otherwise as his eyes darted everywhere around the room but your gaze, and the tip of his ears turned red.
"and you're gay, right?"
"now THAT is an accusation!" he replied indignantly, now fully flustered. "i, a dignified gentleman, would never engage in such sinful acts."
"but i saw you peeking at me showering yesterday. pervert." you were having the time of your life teasing this poor fossil.
he stood up from the dinner table and paced around the room. "i did no such thing." he mumbled, face somehow steaming even more than you thought was humanly possible. wait, but he wasn't a human. nevermind.
you spent most of your week exploring his manor, poking around the various dusty bookshelves and artifacts of an era long bygone. if there was one thing you picked up from your exploration, it was that kliff was awfully lonely. and had been for a long time. he didn't seem to have had any romantic partners, probably due to his sexuality, nor any pets to keep him company. you could infer this from his clingy nature, he was constantly in the shadows observing you, blending in seamlessly using his powers. he thought he was being slick, but really, he was a rather clumsy vampire. whenever you caught him, he would always act oblivious, and give you a sheepish grin, before scurrying away. it was quite cute, really. another thing was the fact that he never asked to drink from you. "it is quite alright. i sustain myself well enough through other means." was all he said when you asked him about it. mysterious. almost like he didn't dare to taint your skin with his fangs. you decided not to tell him about the fact that you were aware he watched you when you were asleep in the guest room, sometimes even daring to climb into bed silently with you and bask in your presence. he was a lonely soul, you figured. you could let him be delusional for a bit. you would leave after this week, anyway.
but that week passed quick, and with each day, kliff seemed to grow even more on edge, getting nervous whenever he was around you but never daring to speak what was on his mind. brooding around the house, watching you silently as you attempted to grow something in his dying garden... oh it was bad for him. but this came all to a head on your last day, when you bid your goodbyes and were one foot out the door, and he suddenly gathered the courage to say something.
kliff threw himself at you in one final, desperate plea. "please... please don't go...." his tone was so pitiful, you stopped in your tracks and looked at the way he's grabbing your wrist so tightly. "i... i.... if i may, i have one final request."
"you want to drink from me? honestly, i'm surprised you didn't ask earlier."
"no, no... it's not that. it's the opposite, really. may i... may i humbly request that you..." he stops mid sentence and breaks eye contact to look at the ground, voice so soft you could barely hear him. "bite me instead..."
"i beg your pardon?"
"i would like for you to leave a mark on me. as a reminder of your presence." his tone is slightly more confident now as he meets your eyes, centuries-old desire rekindled and burning within them. he falters a bit as he notices your lack of response. "....please?" he mumbles pathetically.
oh, poor baby. he's wanted a man to love him all his life. luckily for him, you found his desperation cute. you drop your bag and take his hand in yours.
"want me to take the lead?" you squeeze his hand, and he nods shyly.
"i would like nothing more."
you gently, but firmly pin him to the nearest wall, the ancient manor creaking under the pressure. it's kind of poetic, kliff thinks, as he wilts under your touch, it sounds like my house is congratulating me. you start off by peppering fleeting kisses all across his neck, admiring the small noises of pleasure he made everytime your lips came into contact with his skin. the fleeting touches turned into harsher bites, as you nibbled at his delicate skin, so fragile and untouched. it was just like he fantasized, and he was in heaven. he gripped onto the wall for support as he gasped at the new sensation, writhing around as you marked him, but your strong hands on his waist kept him steadily in place, a feeling he quickly learnt to enjoy. all those years he spent in solitude seemed to culminate to this moment, he'd never felt more intimate with anyone in his life. you stepped back to look at your handiwork and he immediately collapsed into your arms, a dark purple hickey prominently showing on his neck. he stared up at you lovingly, unable to really form thoughts. "please don't go...." was all he could mutter as you slowly swayed him back and forth, soothing his cold, beating heart.
"guess i'll see you next week, hm?" he's never been happier to hear those words in his long life.
>ᵥᵥ< 💘
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ywuji · 6 months
Note
Omg so like I want to hear your thoughts on perv!Megumi like finally after so long of Gojo teasing him for being in college for two years at this point and being single, he’s finally procured a pretty girlfriend who’s unfortunately (for her) so naive and sweet??🩷💕 Idk I got shy but I know you’ll do something good with this lol
ik i told u id post this after my wips but i started on it n i couldnt stop i liked the idea too much LOL im sorry for being so confusing D; tysm for the ask though!!! :o i rlly enjoyed writing this!!! (n don’t be shy ahjwhs you’re so lovely T_T♡)
perv!megumi !!! please i feel like he’s the type to be a pervert that’s kinda embarrassed n self aware about himself—especially bc gojo kept teasing him all those years n he was kinda just jacking off to whatever x-rated video that came up first (i feel like perv!megumi is highkey into hentai too but he’s taking that to the grave!!)
n when gets a pretty little girlfriend who acts so cute and who he loves so much, when he gets hard he can’t help but let some of that side of him slip out from time to time...
i think he’s also the type to take lots of pictures,, like pictures while you sleep, peeking through your door while you shower, in clothing store changing rooms while you change, upskirt pictures… he’ll make you his little model!! some of them you know about but some of them you don’t, he’s so lewd.
it’s not just pics of you he takes, it's some of himself too. i feel like one of the things he’d love to do to you is when you tell him to come with you to some random uni event, n he’ll randomly disappear in the middle of it, only to go to the bathroom to take pictures of his hard leaky cock to send you with some casual caption like he didn’t just do that ?!?! he’s crazy (more under the cut)
it’s not megumi’s fault he’s so in his head about you, he still just doesn’t really know how he managed to get someone as pretty and doting as you are as his. 
he sometimes feels guilty for being so obsessed with you—your body clad in pretty little outfits that you show off to him with a twirl, the way you’ll always show him your shiny new sparkly nails when you get them done, how he’s always the first one you’ll pick to talk to about something new you’ve found to love—it’s all that seems to be on his mind recently.
maybe it was gojo’s accidental doing, those feelings of guilt. unintentionally planting a little growing seed of shame in him the first few times he started teasing him for not having a partner yet at his ‘big age’, borderline lecturing him with the ‘when i was your age’ stuff—maybe that was the logical reason why he felt so attached to you, the reason he couldn’t help getting fully erect even when he only saw as much as a pair of your flung-away panties lying at the edge of your bed when coming to your room one day.
but when he recalls back to those nights where you’re innocently cuddled against him, watching whatever movie, a quiet ‘megumi?’ leaving your lips as a sign to tell him you’re falling asleep, and he finds himself shifting in his seat, carefully adjusting your head to let you rest comfortably on him, pressing a soft kiss to your hair as he strokes it and tells you a ‘sleep now, angel’, he knows that’s not the reason.
nevertheless, he’s always been worried about it, thoughts of ‘am i doing too much?’ or a ‘would she not like this?’ clouding his mind. but for every single thought like this he has, he’ll always have two more memories where he’s coming up to you, his sweet-faced little girlfriend, waiting for him with open arms and open heart. and to him, it means more than the world.
and as his cheerful sweetheart girlfriend, you’ve never really minded of course.
you know he’s at least a little perverted, asking to take those pictures of you trying on your new swimsuits, or bras, or skirts, or those times when he pulls out after spilling his load into you, and the first thing he does after making sure you’re okay is to go face-to-face with the trail of cum seeping out of you to snap a few photos.
honestly, you’ve gotten used to it at this point. you just take these moments, seeing what you do to him, as a way of reassuring yourself that he really does just love you that much. and he really does. really!! :(
no matter how innocent or dirty the context, he’ll let you know whenever he gets that warm little feeling in his chest.
“i-i love you,” he pants, head coming up from sucking marks on your neck, languid thrusts coming to a gentle stop as he peers up at you with flushed cheeks. it feels like he’s admitting it for the first time again.
when you stare at him with his same love-drunk look, brows furrowed and eyes pleading, whispering out an “i love you too, gumi”, he’ll pause a moment to study your expression before gently raising you further up the bed, hooking his hand under your leg and repositioning it around his waist.
he’ll drop down to press a kiss to your cheek before resting his chin on your shoulder and picking up the pace again, now only determined to make you cum.
when he thinks of times like these, despite what you’re doing together, it’s innocent in his head.
a time where that’s not so much the case though is when you persuade him to come with you to some uni exhibition event, looking up at him with hopeful, doe-like eyes and as many ‘pleeeaaase, gumi’s and ‘please, guuuum’s as you could muster—cause it’s not like he could say no to that, right?
at first he put up an act of feign stubbornness. but eventually he agreed—only when he knew you’d excitedly hug him and press your soft chest to his as a thank you for it though.
he’d tour the hall with you, watching you gaze in awe at everything with your cute, simple curiosity, occasionally pointing out little things in the pieces he liked. before the artist began their talk though, he got up from his seat, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek before muttering a “‘m g’na go to the bathroom.”
in an empty stall, he’ll sit atop the lid and pull down his jeans, freeing his stiffening cock from his underwear. he quietly groans as he pumps himself a few times, a slow trickle of translucent white leaking down from his tip.
he silently curses, throwing his head back, thinking about how you let him flip up your pretty skirt before you left, letting him take a peek at your cute ass in the frilly panties he bought for you.
he reaches for his phone, fumbling to send a picture of the sight to you, adding a casual caption of something like ‘hi pretty girl’ or ‘u look so pretty today, angel’.
he pauses, realising that maybe you won’t see it for a little while. he’s imagining you so obediently listening to the artist speaker to notice the ping of his notification—he enjoys that thought too, but he can’t say why.
he’s careful not to thrust up into his fist, not wanting to make too much noise, but it’s futile—he’s too hard staring at the lewd shots of you saved in his secret hidden album—the way you act so innocently, the way you have no clue what the true extent is of what you do to him. he can’t help but let a few breathy whines slip.
he won’t let himself cum though, thinking he’s too good to be letting himself release over some scrunched up, bathroom tissue when he’s got his own pretty little girlfriend waiting for him a few halls down.
he sighs. cleaning up and tucking himself back into the band of his briefs, leaving the stall and washing his hands, walking back out like nothing happened.
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almond-tofuuu · 7 months
Note
Wanna sit on Zayne’s lap (innocently) facing him with my face buried in his chest while he works 😊 and then maybe after a while grind on him a lil, just enough to rile him up, and then keep doing it until he snaps and pounds me into the nearest surface 😊
anon you are not the only one who wants to do this!!! If I've said it once, I'll say it again: ZAYNE WANTS US TO GRIND DOWN IN HIM!! why else would he keep letting us sit in his lap 🤷🏻‍♀️
Also sorry it took so long for me to write this, work has been brutal 😭😭😭 hope you enjoy!!
Dangerous Game
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Zayne x reader
Warnings: nsfw minors dni, grinding, orgasm denial, Zayne's big dick (it needs it's own warning), pet names (Angel)
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Zayne was busy, always busy. Even when he came home after a long shift at the hospital, he still had more work that needed to be completed. And you understood, you really did, his job was very important and his meticulous nature was just one of the many things you loved about him. But right now you were cursing the seemingly neverending amount of paperwork stacked on the desk next to him. Hearing that he had actually gotten off work on time for once, you were looking forward to spending an evening curled up on the sofa with your loving boyfriend. But your plans were cut short the moment he picked up a pen and started filling out documents. Watching him from the doorway you let out a small sigh, resigning yourself to spending another evening entertaining yourself, when an idea formed in your mind. Hiding the mischievous smirk growing on your face, you tiptoed your way over to Zayne, stopping beside his chair, gently poking his shoulder. Zayne's eyes flickered over to you, pen halting mid stroke as he gave you his full attention.
"Is there something I can help you with, Angel?" His smooth voice never failed to make your heart flutter, honeyed tone soft and tender, a sound reserved solely for you. Your fingers play with the cuff of his sleeve, a small pout on your lips, one you know he loves. "Can I sit with you? I missed you so much and I just want to be close to you for a while." The corners of Zayne's lips curl up into a soft smile, and you knew he'd give you whatever you wanted, after all Zayne could never say no to you. You were his weakness.
An amused chuckle left Zayne's lips as he swivelled his chair to face you, one hand holding yours whilst the other tapped his thigh, inviting you into his lap. "How can I refuse when you asked so nicely. Come on then, take a seat, Angel." He gently pulled you closer, helping you to straddle his lap, another deep chuckle rumbling from his chest as he watches you bury your face in his chest, breathing in his familiar scent. "Now be good for me, I'm almost finished with these reports. Then we can go watch a movie together." He gives a light squeeze to the plush of your hips before his hands leave you, picking up his pen and resuming his work.
You want to be good for him, you really do try, but your mind begins to wander. There's something about being surrounded by him, his scent overwhelming your senses, the steady rhythm of his heart, his muscular thighs below you, it ignites a fire deep within you, and with every passing second you can feel the growing ache in your core.
You start small at first, squirming slightly in his lap, little wiggles that you play off as "just trying to get comfy". And for a while it's enough, but soon the throbbing in your cunt gets stronger, your clit begging for more friction, something to relieve the pressure building up in your lower stomach. You give an experimental rock of your hips, freezing to wait for Zayne's reaction. When he doesn't respond you do it again, setting a steady rhythm as you grind down on his lap. The zipper on the front of his slacks rubs perfectly against your sensitive clit, the pleasure increasing with every roll of your hips, head burying further into the crook of Zayne's neck, his masculine scent filling your nose, pushing you even closer to your orgasm that is building steadily. Your pussy is dripping now, soaking your panties, your empty hole flutters and pulses as you continue grinding in Zayne's lap, too lost in pleasure to register the tiny whimpers leaving your mouth, forgetting all about subtly as your minds only focus is on your orgasm that is fast approaching. Speeding up your movement, hips pressing down harder into his, a breathy moan of his name falls from your lips as you're about to reach your peak. Just as you feel yourself tumbling over the edge, two strong, cold hands firmly grab your hips, halting your movement completely. You whine desperately at the loss of your orgasm, hips frantically chasing more of that delicious friction that would have your cunt gushing into your panties, but it's useless. Zayne's vice-like grip prevents any of your movements, cold fingers bruising as they dig into the soft flesh of your hips.
"Did you really think I would let you finish like that, Angel?" Zayne whispered lowly in your ear, dark tone sending a shiver down your spine. "I thought I told you to be good, but it seems my girl was just too desperate to wait." You let out a pathetic mewl as Zayne presses you further into his lap, only now noticing the large bulge that has formed in his pants, his cock hard and begging for relief as it grinds against your clothed pussy. "You wanted my attention, Angel? Well you've got it. And I'm going to spend the rest of tonight teaching you what happens to bad girls who don't do as their told." He chuckles darkly, hips rutting up into yours, mercilessly guiding your sensitive cunt along the length of his confined cock. "And I'm not going to stop until you're a begging, whimpering mess."
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silencesscreams · 9 months
Note
"is there any chance i can fix this?" where james and reader are best friends since birth but he begins to pull away and spend less time with her in favor of the boys, so she just cuts him out of her life and after a while he doesn't know how to deal with it anymore. hiiiii
sad beautiful tragic
james potter x fem reader (angst)
a/n: sorry about any grammar mistakes, english isn’t my first language (also i’m pretty bad at writing angst but i tried my best) also immediately thought of the title because of the taylor swift song, so hope you don’t mind the association. also the first kiss part came to my mind because of a tiktok i saw a few weeks ago but i don’t really remember who’s it was to credit them
warnings: friendship distancing, kissing, fighting, cursing, a bit short (sorry), happy ending
“i’m sorry, okay? i’m so sorry, honey, please. is there any chance i can fix this? just tell me, please”
you knew james potter and he knew you. knowing meaning comprehending each other, meaning that you stood by each others side for as long as you can remember.
he was your first friend. he was your neighbor and you both grew up together, it was expected that you both would know each other better than anyone.
sure, it felt different when you both started hogwarts and suddenly he had new friends, but so did you. you spent the time you could together, always saving a bit of your days for each other.
during the sixth to seventh year summer vacation, he had spent the whole summer with you, you both would hang out all the time.
until he kissed you.
it was the last day of summer and you both had spent the evening in his room. you were talking about a book you had been reading recently and he listened quietly, like it was the most interesting thing he had ever heard of. until you paused for a brief moment and he moved closer to you. you were sat on the floor with him, the carpet tickling your legs as you played with the fluffy yarn under you.
“honey” he said, you looked at him, doe eyed waiting for him to continue. “a phrase. two words, six letters, two vowels. guess.” he said lowly whilst looking at your lips. your mind went blank.
one vowel for each word. you still didn’t get it.
“what are the vowels?” you whisper back, he smiles.
“i and e” he answers, not taking his eyes from off of you for a second. you knew.
“kiss me?” and so he did. his lips met yours abruptly, his hands grabbed your hips and yours went straight to the back of his neck. it completely changed the way you ever saw him, hell, it completely changed your expectations to a kiss. it was better than anything you’d ever experienced and you loved it.
when you got back to school, it seemed like he didn’t do that, actually, it seemed like he didn’t even talk to you the whole summer.
sure, he did casually say hello in the halls and you might’ve shared one or two conversations, but what the hell? he kisses you like that and expects you to just forget about it? that was the most fucked up thing anyone could’ve done. as the semester went on, your mind was absolutely torturing you over that kiss.
it made you overthink every single thing you ever did around him. but maybe he didn't have time, maybe he was really busy with his studies and quidditch, right? that was probably it.
he saw you every once in a while, said an awkward hi or whatever that thing signaling head thing he did was.
the crush you had developed for him didn’t help at all. it made you crave his presence in your life, even now that you hated him more than you ever thought you possibly could. you missed his pet names for you, ‘honey’ and ‘sweetheart’ sounded so amazing coming out of his mouth.
but from the moment he started to ignore you, you decided he was absolutely done. he was never going to see a smile coming from you ever again, he was never going to get another hello, nothing. james potter didn’t deserve a single thing from you.
your friends agreed. they thought he was a piece of shit and said you should’ve cut him off a long time before.
life went on without him, you barely thought about him. your studies were going well, everything was great.
christmas break came up and when you saw james at the train station, you were pissed. you knew he was going to be there for christmas dinner, he was always invited alongside with his family. you didn’t know how he was going to act then, was he going to pretend it never happened?
when you got home, your mother instantly started asking you what you wanted for dinner and you were glad to be home, you just hated that he was in the house next to yours.
a few nights after you both got home, you were invited for a date by steven, who worked at a bookstore near the city park. you said yes, he took you to see a shitty movie and tried to kiss you after dropping you off at your front porch. you dodged it and gave him a good night kiss on the cheek. james saw it all.
once the date left, you heard him yelling from his porch:
“who’s that?” you ignored him and went inside, sure, you weren’t going to see steven again but james didn’t deserve to know that.
on christmas day you went to the potter’s for dinner, your parents insisted for you to go, even though you tried to fake being sick. sirius was there too, you politely greeted all of them and didn’t bother to answer james’ “hey”.
when you sat at the side of the living room table james sat next to you, even though that wasn’t his usual seat. you played with your dress awkwardly and ate less, being there was making you so irritated you lost your appetite.
after taking a bite from your dessert, you thanked euphemia for the food and told your parents you were feeling a bit sick and that you were heading home, telling them to enjoy the rest of their night.
as you were opening the door to head out, you heard footsteps behind you. you knew james was there and you had no interest to talk with him.
“don’t” you simply stated, stepping out and shutting the door lightly on him, he followed you during the small walk between both your houses.
“hey!” he shouted, trying to get your attention. you were about to shut the door to your house on his face, but he held it with his foot, going into your house.
he pulled you by your wrist but you tugged it away from him.
“don’t touch me!” you shouted at him, staring into his eyes for the first time that night.
“now you can talk to me, huh? ‘the fucks up with you?!” he shouts back, brows furrowed. you couldn’t believe him, what a fucking nerve he had.
“whats up with YOU?!” you step closer to him, throwing your keys on the coffee table in the middle of the living room. “you’ve ignored me for the whole semester and now you wanna talk?” he had never seen you like this. you had never been this angry at anyone or anything around him.
“i’m sorry?” he had no reaction, he knew he was wrong, he just couldn’t deal with it. with anything. he didn’t know what to do after he kissed you, he couldn’t handle any of it. he knew that if he spent more time around you he would fall harder, he couldn’t risk it.
“i’m sorry! now that you don’t have anyone else near for you to talk to, i’m worthy of your attention? i’m so lucky, right?!” your eyes started to tear up, but you held it in, he was not getting to see you cry.
“honey, i’m sorry i didn’t talk much with you these past few months, but i tried to speak with you tonight and you didn’t even bother to answer me!” he ran his hand through his hair, looking at you as you sat down on the couch, staring at your hands.
“you didnt even look at me. the entire fucking night. one lousy ‘hey’ is not trying to do anything” he handed you a piece of paper, it was crumpled up in his jeans’ pocket. you knew he was bad with words, but the paper was written front and back. what was he even trying to do? did he think a letter was enough to fix the damage he had done?
“really? you’re a little too late for this, don’t you think?” you said, looking at him angrily.
“fine, don’t read it then. just keep it, okay?” he knew you were about to cry. it was the worst feeling he had ever felt.
“you don’t get to do this to me, james” you hold back tears once you say it.
“i know, honey, i know” he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, cupping your face as you try to not melt because of his touch. he kisses you, but this time you pull away.
“no. don’t do this to me” you say, a single tear streaming down your face, he wipes it off but more tears just keep coming
“im sorry, im so sorry for everything i did and-“ you interrupt him.
“could you just try to listen?!” you shout, pulling away from his touch again. “what makes you think that i want this? after all you did, better, all that you didn’t do?! you kiss me and expect me to forget about it? expect me to be okay with you ignoring me all the time just because you kissed me again? i can’t be okay with any of this unless you actually explain to me what happened. i really try to understand you, but all of this doesn’t help!”
“i love you” he says “i have loved you all my life and i didn’t know, after i kissed you it all hit me and i couldn’t trust myself around you anymore, i didn’t want to hurt you so i pulled away, i just didn’t know it would hurt you more like that. i’m sorry, but im here now and i want to show you how much I do love you” he pauses and sits next to you on the couch.
“i’m sorry, okay? i’m so sorry, honey, please. is there any chance i can fix this? just tell me, please” he wipes the tears from off your face again. you knew he meant it, you just didn’t know how to trust him again.
“i don’t know” you whisper, looking into his eyes, you had never seen him look this sad. you wanted to trust him, you really did, but how could you? how could you know he wasn’t going to pull something like that again?
you couldn’t be sure of anything, you could only hope for the best and be careful. so you gave it a shot.
“come here” you say lowly, pulling him in for a hug. he buried his face in the crook of your neck and gave you small kisses.
“i’m so sorry, baby” he whispered.
“i know” you whisper back, he looks at you and gives you quick kisses all over your face. you can’t help but smile.
it was going to take a while for you to trust him again, but you knew you could.
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abbyshands · 8 months
Note
Good nigth darling,you're okay?can we have more nerdy!abby pleaase i beg you 🙏🙏🙏(srry for my inglish)
teach me
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└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘
a/n; hello, my love! i’m good, and i hope you are too! of course EEK i was going to write more for her anyway, i love a nerdy girl. also this is cut off asf I’M SORRY i’m tired, maybe i’ll do a part 2 if y’all ask <3
synopsis; you’ve never been good at science, let alone college biology. when your professor all but forced you to get a tutor, who should you end up with but your nerdy girlfriend, who has a very unique way of getting you to study?
pairing; dom!abby anderson x sub!fem!reader
warnings; abby uses baby/princess, use of a strap-on, cockwarming + edging (kinda), abby refers to the strap as her dick and it’s referred to as her dick/cock, choking, spanking, degradation (ish. abby’s tone is just mean), anddd i prob missed smt so lmk <3
wc; 2.2k
p.s.; ALSO this is was ib an ellie fic i saw bro idk where tf it is 😭 searching for it tho. i js remember it was nerdy ellie. it was so good BUT LIKE WHERE IS ITTT idk i’ll link it here if i find it
└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘
you’ve always sucked at science. biology, chemistry, whatever the hell it was, it had never been your cup of tea.
your professor had not so kindly recommended you get a tutor. otherwise, your grades would decline (more than they already were, that is). you didn't want a tutor, let alone for it to be someone you didn't know. you were already feeling awkward enough having to have someone tutor you at all—you couldn't imagine if it was by an unfamiliar.
that's where abby came in.
abby anderson was your girlfriend, and she was a nerd. like, cliche movie nerd. if you couldn't find her in her dorm, with you, or in class, she was at the library, doing homework until she couldn't anymore. she was a coffee addict with how late she was up each evening, study sessions, unnecessarily reviewing, and, again, homework.
let's just say, abby anderson would do crazy things for an a.
you didn't necessarily want to have abby as your tutor. for some reason, it was embarrassing to you. you had already felt that way when you told her you needed one at all. it would be 10x worse if she would be the one doing it.
not only that, the focus.
how the fuck were you going to focus when you have abby fucking anderson in front of you? when your mind races with memories of her fucking you from behind, or kissing down your neck, or making you the wettest you've ever been, just by being alive?
you weren't.
but abby was persistent. you had originally said no when she first asked to tutor you, but when the guy who was supposed to tutor you didn't even show for your first session, it was no longer a request.
it was a demand.
you were sitting beside abby in her dorm, working on an assignment for your biology class that was due the following day. you had taken up to ten breaks by now, and it had only been an hour and a half or so.
abby pushed her glasses up on her face as she looked over at you, eyebrow raised. you had been dozing off, elbow on the desk and chin on your palm as your eyes began to fall shut.
"hey," abby snapped her large hand in front of your face, making your eyes open again just as quickly as it had happened. "are you listening to me?"
no.
"yeah. yeah, sorry, i just, um—dna and rna. that's what we're learning now, right?" you ask confusedly, doing your best to make it seem like you know what you’re talking about.
but the look on abby's face tells you all you need to know.
"mhm, like, ten minutes ago," abby hums a bit annoyedly, and you can't help but let out a sigh. it's bad enough you have to be here at all, but letting abby down, or worse, pissing her off, was the last thing you wanted to do. “you're never going to learn if you don't put any effort in," she sighs.
“c’mon, abs,” you whined as you set your pencil aside, putting your head down on the desk, eyes on abby. the blonde set her own pen down with a small shake of the head, expression unreadable. “i can’t do this anymore,” you said dramatically. abby rolled her eyes.
“what’s wrong now?” abby asked, but it’s not like she really wanted to know the answer. you knew how seriously abby took her own schoolwork, which may be the reason she was annoyed that you didn’t. but you just weren’t like that.
“none of this makes sense. i can’t remember a thing we go over. god, i hate biology,” you complained once more, looking away from abby.
abby sighed as she put a hand on your shoulder. as much as she wanted to be annoyed, she loved you, and she knew full well that even if you were smart, biology was your worst class.
“what can i do to help, baby? flashcards, d’you want me to quiz you? what do you need?” abby asked as she moved her hand to your back, rubbing it. you shrugged.
“i dunno. i don’t think any of that stuff is going to help me, abby. my memory’s—not that good,” you lamely huffed, but it was true. your memory was best when it came down to the things you cared for. college biology was not one of them.
“hm,” abby hummed. it took a beat, a small pause. but then, abby’s perked eyebrows told you that she had just gotten an idea, and so did the way her plump lips curled into a grin.
“i think i know what’ll do the trick.”
└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘
that’s how you ended up on abby’s lap, her cock buried deep inside of you as she gripped you by the bottom. abby’s way of bettering your sour memory came in the form of one of the most agonizing experiences you had ever had.
“how does dna differ from rna?” abby asks you casually, as if she isn’t filling you to the brim. you feel your face getting hot, bottom lip bitten down on as you look at her nervously.
“u- uhm. d- dna has a d- double helix model, fuck,” you whine. you must be at least a little correct, because abby bucks her hips up into you, causing the silicone dildo to move inside of you. “rna’s single, a- and involved in a different process than dna.”
“attagirl,” abby praised. it’s then that she grabbed you by the ass, hard, and forced you to ride up to the top of her dick, just before she’s slamming you back down. for only a few seconds, you gain some pleasure by moving your body like that, or abby doing it for you, that is.
but then, she’s robbing it away from you, just like that.
“a- abby, please, c’mon,” you whimper. this had been going on for a third of an hour or so. abby would ask you a question from the deck of index cards she had made for you, and you would answer. simple, right?
wrong.
because here's the thing: she wouldn’t move unless you answered her, and it had to be correct. and if not?
smack.
abby's large hand comes down on your ass as if to shut you up. really, it doesn't. you let out a moan as she then grabs your ass again, not giving a care to how sore you may be.
because she's already slapped you way too many times to count.
“don't act like this isn't for your own good," she says firmly, reprimanding you. "you got that one wrong last time. and we’re not going to stop until you’ve got that whole fucking deck memorized, you got that?” she asks, signaling to the forgotten pile of index cards on the desk behind you. you whine, body too achy for abby to deny her.
“f- fine," you whine, because who the hell would you be to say no?
“good girl," abby praises as she rubs her hands over your bottom, caressing you in a loving manner, a wide difference to the way she was addressing you mere seconds before. "now, can you tell me what a neuron is?”
doing your best to not focus on the feeling inside you, you nod, and easily answer. “a- a neuron—" you huff. "is a specialized cell.”
abby moves her hands to your hips and pushed you up, so that you're around halfway down on her cock. you let out a small shudder, but it must mean you're correct. “and what’s it do?” abby then asks.
to some degree.
but you know this one. after all, it was one of the last cards you looked at in the deck. so, you respond, “transmit.”
abby moves you up more, and this time, she brings one of her hands up to cup your tit. she plays with your nipple if only for a second, causing you to let out a low moan. but just when you think she's going to keep going, of course, she doesn't.
“transmit what?” she asks firmly as her fingers caress your rib cage, and it's all you can do not to roll your eyes.
“nerve impulses," you say a bit too fast, eager to have her hands back on you. your neediness helped you on that one. "i- it’s the basic unit of the nervous system," you add, for good measure.
"that's right, princess," abby smirked, course she did. she had always had way too much fun when she was driving you crazy during sex. this was no different.
but you're pleased to find yourself rewarded, because abby allows you to ride her again. you move up and down a little quickly, scared that your girlfriend will rob you of the feeling before it's even begun. abby begins to rub your clit as she gazes at you fucking yourself on her dick, way too needy for her touch.
"eager girl," abby cooed, rubbing her index on your clit in quick circles. "so needy for my cock, aren't you?"
"yes," you huff out fast, eyes closing shut at the feeling under you.
"too bad."
abby shoves you all the way back down her dick, so that you're all the way back down at the base. it pleasures you for only a second, before the feeling vanishes, just like that.
"abby, f- fuck," you groan annoyedly, body begging for a release you know abby won't give you unless you do what she tells you to do.
and she doesn't like your words.
abby grabs you by the neck, forcing you to look at her as you roll your eyes in the brattiest manner she's ever seen from you. "look at me. look at me when i'm talking to you," and she uses that tone you know she only uses when she's not playing games, barking your full name out at the end like the word pains her tongue.
once she's got your eyes on her, she speaks once more. "if you really want this dick, and i know you do, you're gonna take what i give you like the good girl you are. that clear?"
you keep your eyes on her, scared of what will happen if you don't, face hot as you answer. "y- yes, ma'am."
"primary use of the kidneys?" abby asks, not even giving you praise for obeying her. but you're not at all surprised by that: if there was one thing about abby, she did not like your bratty side.
this time, unlike what abby's asked you before, you can't remember the answer to this. like, at all. you fumble with it for a second, digging through your head for what it could be. but you don't get a response.
"i- i don't know," you dumbly stutter, genuinely unsure of what to say. abby isn't having it, obviously, because one mlre spank is coming down onto your ass before you know it.
"f- fuck!" you whine brokenly, head rocking back, and bottom sore from each hit abby's given you. she doesn't seem to care.
"yes, you do," she all but growls at you, and you think of your real class all too quickly, like she's your professor. "we went over this. so fucking tell me," she says, and it only makes your abdomen churn more.
and fill with butterflies.
“s- something to do with b- blood pressure, right? c- controlling it? please say yes," you were begging more to yourself than to abby, not even sure where that answer came from.
“mhm, and what else?" she coos, doing what she's done a million times before: moving you halfway up her cock.
"i- i don't know, abs. can't remember," you mutter, and really, how could you by now?
it looks like abby is feeling a little generous this time, because she helps you along. "what’s it do to your body, princess? begins with an 'r',” she asked.
even when your brain begins to fog up with all of the questions in your head, and what's happening besides that, it seems to click for you when abby says the letter 'r.' “r- regulates it? th- the fluid balance?”
“mhm," abby says with a small nod of approval, even kissing your chest this time as a reward.
"there’s my smart girl.”
and it goes on like that forever, question, answer, question, answer. sometimes, you got abby's cock easily. most times, you weren't so lucky.
your eyes are drooping, body aching and face hot as you stutter out the answer to the final card in the deck. once you do, you let out a deep, long exhale, which makes abby chuckle.
"see, pretty girl? wasn't that bad, was it?" abby coos, putting her hand up to cup your cheek. obviously, you want to say no. but after all of this, it was too risky to be bratty to abby. so you shake your head.
and you hadn’t even finished yet.
"n- no, it was—fine," you lie, and abby knows you are. but she doesn't ask about it, knowing full well how much she's done to you already.
"look on the good side.”
“you'll remember better now, won't you?"
└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘
reblogs are very much welcomed <3
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2K notes · View notes
cinnudelx · 28 days
Note
Do think I can have a Natasha romanoff x fem reader fluff fic? Pls
of course! thank you sm for your request!! 🤍
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Drinks n’ Confessions 🎀
pairing: natasha romanoff x fem!reader
summary: nat finally came back from her solo mission. her first instinct was to come to your apartment. you guys had drinks at your balcony; unbeknownst to the fact that you were mere seconds away from a confession that changed your life.
warnings: nothing but fluff and a kiss x
a.n: guys i think im allergic to proof-reading my work 😭😭 this was kinda rushed bc im hopping on a plane soon and i wont have wifi for another few hours! also, thank you so much for you guys’ support on my posts! i love you guys soosososososos much 🩷🩷🩷
you were worried. worried sick. it’s been 2 weeks since you’ve heard from Nat after she had gone out for a mission. you sent her a text everyday, asking — no — begging for her to give you any updates.
it was no use. you threw your phone on your bed, running your hands over your face in frustration. this is… until you received a ding.
you almost fell off your bed reaching for your phone. your eyes lit up at the message.
i’m so sorry, only got to my phone now. on my way back. i’ll be at yours in an hour?
your heart fluttered, thoughts racing but most importantly — she was okay.
you responded almost immediately, scrambling off the bed and trying to make yourself look a bit more presentable, even though she wouldn’t be here for another hour so you decided you might as well clean your apartment.
the two of you had been best friends for 2 years, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that there might be something more. but of course your deluded mind told you it was just one sided and she could never think of you that way — only as a friend. though one thing you did know was that she, too, is into girls.
finally after about an hour, there was finally a knock on your door. your heart soared as you raced to the door, opening it swiftly. there she was, still clad in her suit and her luscious, red hair braided over her shoulder with two little strands framing her face.
the two of you smiled in unison, though your smile was more of a relieved, excited smile before you hugged her tightly. “gosh, i missed you so much.” she sighed softly, her chin on your shoulder as she squeezed you tighter.
“i missed you too, nat.” your smile was hurting your cheeks at this point before you reluctantly pulled away from the hug to look into her eyes. “i was so worried…” you said, letting her inside.
she winced at that, “i’m so sorry. my phone broke and i was basically on the other side of the world. i had no way of communicating with anyone.”
you shook your head with a soft smile, “it’s okay. at least you’re okay.”
she nodded, smiling back. the two of you searched each others eyes for a moment and you could’ve sworn there was something there. a hint of longing, maybe? or… love.
you cleared your throat, “uh… you wanna change? you can take whatever you want outta my wardrobe.”
“yeah, uh, that’d be great. thank you.” she smiled, walking into your room. although you still wanted her to stay in that suit that hugged her curves so perfectly, you knew she needed something more comfortable and clean.
you smiled back, running a hand through your hair as you leaned against the doorframe. “when you’re done, meet me at the balcony. i’ve got drinks.”
her brows raised with a smirk, “you know me so well.”
you chuckled, pushing yourself off the doorframe and heading out to the balcony with two bottles of corona’s. after about a minute, natasha met you at your balcony, dressed in a black tank top and leather jacket, paired with black jeans, her boots still on.
you handed her a bottle with a smile, “cheers.” she clinked her bottle against yours, grinning.
after a couple sips, nat spoke up.
“you know… while i was away,” she looked into your eyes, her expression unreadable, “i thought about a few things.” she paused a few moments, looking out into the distance as if she was trying to come up with the right words. “life is too short. anything can happen and put anyone out in a split second, right? especially in my line of work…”
you swallowed down your nervousness, completely oblivious about what she meant. “nat, did something happen when you were gone…?”
nat smiled to herself, shaking her head as she placed her elbows on the balcony railing. “y/n… you know that i’m a very… forward person. i don’t shy away.”
you nodded, listening intently and forgetting how to breathe.
she sighed after a couple moments before finally turning her head to look at you, a small smile on her lips. “i like you, y/n. not as friends. i just-“ she sighed again, frustrated as she couldn’t find the words, “i just wanted you to know that. you don’t have to say anyth-”
“me too.” you replied instantly, eyes wide, blush forming on your cheeks and the beer bottle in your hand completely forgotten. searching her eyes, you took a deep breath, “i like you… too.” the words came out just above a whisper.
she smiled softly to herself in relief, turning her body to fully face you. looking down at your free hand that wasn’t holding your beer, she hesitantly reached for it, carefully intertwining her fingers with yours. “i was trying to figure out why i felt so miserable while on missions and i now know why…” she looked at you, searching your eyes. “it’s because i’m not with you.”
your heart almost exploded at the confession, instinctively squeezing her hand gently.
she continued, “you know i’m never really good at this… stuff. but i’m trying. i really want to be with you. you make me feel so happy.” she almost whispered out the last sentence.
“nat…” you breathed out with a soft smile, bringing your hand up to caress her cheek. “you make me the happiest person ever when i’m with you.”
she smiled back, her eyes watering ever so slightly. she’d never felt like this with anyone—let alone had the confidence to get out of her shell and explore her sexuality.
she reached up to cup your hand the caressed her cheek, leaning in to hover against your lips. you closed your eyes the moment you felt the contact, your free hand immediately wrapping around her hip to pull her closer, the beer bottle still clinging from your fingers.
the kiss was one of a kind, filled with so much sincerity, adoration and love.
after a few moments, the two of you pulled away, her forehead against yours.
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Note
Hi !!!! I’m sorry if this is bothering you and if so you can totally ignore this but…
I’ve been thinking about how Ghost would react to reader gradually pulling away from him because she gained some weight and is self conscious and ashamed and doesn’t want to be seen by him, so sculpted and beautiful… but of course he’s feeling low because he wants to be close to reader and so he asks and she finally explains it to him (ready to be broken up with…)…. And I’d love to read your take on it !
You can make it female or gender neauteal I don’t really care !!!! Thank you anyway ❤️❤️❤️❤️
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Wildflowers Grow in Ruins
(Ghost x F!Reader, word count: 5 k)
Summary: Reader tries to break up with Ghost because she thinks she's not good enough for him.
Tags/warnings: FLUFF, soft sensual smut 🔞, hurt/comfort, light angst, Jealous!Ghost, Soft!Ghost, self-loathing & self-body shaming. Good girl talk/praise kink. Reader is female and wears a skirt for smut plot purposes.
A/N: I hope you like this take & I hope you don't mind that I tweaked this request just a little bit!) Also: JFC I'm wordy. The "I need to explain why they're fucking!" meme comes to mind every time I write anything.
Wars are exhausting. 
You know fighting for something can empower people. Fighting against something usually just depletes your strength.
But waging a war against yourself… 
Now that is pure hell. 
It started somewhere in your youth. You thought adulthood would take it away; that reason and tolerance would take it away. You were supposed to feel more confident in yourself, more positive about life. And for a moment, you thought you might just succeed.
But standing beside a god of war is no easy feat.
He came into your life like a walking myth, swept you away, and you only laughed as you went. It was fun at first. He was supposed to be your savior, the solution to all your problems. If a man like him found you attractive, perhaps it was the world that was crooked and not you.
But then you got soft: you started to gain pounds. Meanwhile, he became even more magnificent. It reminded you that it had all been just a dream.
Perhaps it was his eyes that seemed to worship you, that seemed to look past your every flaw. Perhaps it was the hands which never seemed to get enough of your skin. Whatever it was, it was too much. And at the same time, never enough.
The day has finally come to let him go.
You think yourself heroic. It's like it should be: it's only right that you finally release him to someone better than you.
But inside, the noble feelings twist and turn and curl around your throat and stuff your stomach full of ice - the kind they fill glasses of mojito with. The drink you'll always remember him by because he teased you about it: that you wanted an ice-cold summer drink even in the middle of winter.
Now you feel cold all over, and wish he could warm you like he used to. 
You would forsake all the mojitos of the world to keep him. You would renounce the whole drink if it came to that; if you could make him yours.
But he's not yours. He never was: he was just on loan to give you a taste of what it would be like to have a man like him. That taste should be more than enough for a lifetime. You should feel grateful.
So why is it so hard to let go?
The key on the front door turns, and your heart shoots up your throat: you're supposed to settle this thing once and for all. You're supposed to let go of him today. 
And still, when he arrives, you can't find the courage to say what you need to say. The words are stuck in your throat, but tears are not. He should already be a memory, but you find yourself suffocating on memories as you cry. You've learned to do even that in silence, like the rest of your suffering.
You take a few deep breaths, wipe the tears away, shove the rest of them down your throat – you save them for later, later, when he's far away and you can finally curl up and cry your heart out without no one there to look. Fucking later.
Good. 
Good.
Great.
You put your heaviest armor on. It protects weak and soft flesh because you can't meet him all bare. Then you step forward with the knowledge that you’re a thoroughly wounded guerrilla while he is a seasoned, well-rested veteran. The fight is nowhere near even, but it's ok. You are not meant to be in the presence of immortals anyway.
The man looks at you warily as you finally enter the room. That haunted look has followed you for some time now as the distance between you has grown. 
It should be easy, what is about to come, because he hasn't touched you in weeks. You haven't wanted him to.
Or you have… But it's not easy to have his hands on you when your body is only a vessel you hate. How can you even think about pleasure when all you think about is how it must feel for him to caress something as awful as this?
The man is a vision, and he settles for a peasant. It should be against the law, but it's not… so you figured a some time ago that you should simply find the strength and grace to do ii: do what's right.
"I need to talk to you." 
Your voice comes out neutral, and it makes you more confident, if only for a second or two.
He lifts his chin: already knows what's coming, because he's not stupid. You've been shutting down for weeks, and he hasn't done much about it. But when the thunder rolls in, he doesn't flee. Probably because he fears nothing.
"Go ahead then," he says, equally as neutral, equally as icy. Got his armor on, too. 
This should be easy…
It's really not, so you decide to rip the band-aid off in one yank.
"I think we should go separate ways."
The following inhale from across the room pierces the air like a bullet. You can hear his breaths gain depth and speed all the way to where you're standing.
"Ok."
It doesn't look or sound like he's ok. If anything, he looks like he's trying to process the sudden storm. 
"Ok…" His eyes are on the floor as he rubs the back of his neck. Then he starts to pace around the little kitchenette you've shared for almost six months, just before you started gaining weight.
He stops to look out the window, then turns to you, and the hurt in his stare comes through like a thousand needles pushing through skin.
"Is it because of my work?" 
"No."
"What is it then?"
Your breaths are getting out of hand, too. He looks like a lost, tired creature in an abandoned animal shelter for a moment, and it breaks your heart. It squeezes the organ inside a flaming fist until it shatters like it has never been nothing more than ice.
Your lip starts to tremble, and he notices, as per usual. Nothing escapes this man, except perhaps the true reason for your anguish.
"Hey. Hey."
He comes to you and hugs you like it's the only thing that matters: to comfort you when he sees you're about to cry, no matter how crushed he's feeling himself. The sudden warmth, the intimacy after weeks and weeks of pain is knee-buckling. 
"Is there anything I can do to change your mind?"
His voice is soft, so soft… The tears rush forth now; there's no way of stopping them. What the hell can you even say to a question like that? That you wish he could grab a magic wand and turn you into someone gorgeous, the woman he deserves?
His embrace feels good, kind of. It also feels smothering because your self-hate makes you want to disappear from existence entirely. His eyes are equal to physical touch, a probing scan that sees every little flaw, not to talk about massive faults, the ones which make you feel like you're simply disgusting. His touch only reminds you how you must feel like to him: soft, too soft, weak.
And he must hate weakness.
"What do you need me to do? I'll do anything," he tries with a parched throat, then swallows. 
It's fucking horrible. This isn't going at all like you had imagined.
"It's not about you," you struggle out of his hold, and he lets you go with reluctance. You have to basically fight your way out of a bone and steel prison. Why would he even want to hold a pathetic woman who's on the brink of ugly crying on top of everything?
"What do you mean?"
He's slightly breathless – and restless as fuck. He's usually so calm; nothing can get to him, nothing can rattle the tower of raw strength. Now you've not only pierced some invisible armor; you can hear pieces of it falling on the floor.
"Have you found someone else?"
What the…
"No." You put as much weight on that word as you possibly can. To imagine that he thinks you are cheating… Fucking cheating on someone like him. "Jesus Christ…"
He takes a deep breath and sighs deeply, sighs out relief, perhaps. Then his razor-sharp stare fixes on you again, and you can see the fear turning into something akin to concern. You suspect you have to tell him the truth, otherwise he will dig it out of you. 
"I'm just…" 
Jesus, this is just humiliating. 
"I'm just not your type."
"What the hell are you talking about," he mutters, the impending fury giving way to momentary surprise. 
He gets intense sometimes. This time, the ferocity is born of barely concealed distress. He's broad and magnificent, even in despair. He’s just so fucking fine… The perfect man, someone you had never even imagined yourself with. Pulled down to the world of puny mortals, evidently stressing about losing one. 
Losing you.
"If you have someone new, you can just bloody well tell me."
"It's not that. You don't understand–" 
"Try me."
"I just…" A tear escapes down your face as you finally break for him. "I'm fat. Okay? And ugly. And–"
"Stop right there."
The look on his face is just… It's priceless, you suppose.
"Bloody fucking hell…" 
He looks at the floor, then runs his fingers through the short cut hair on top of his head. You've yanked those blonde strands more times than you can count, nearly every time he's been between your legs, and you miss it – you long for it, like fallen angels long for heaven. 
And if there was a time this man was rendered speechless, you would say you were witnessing that moment right now. His brows knit together, then he looks up at you again with blaring disbelief.
"You're serious?"
"Yes."
"This is the reason you wanna break up?"
Ugh.
"Yes?"
His voice grows rougher with every question until it resembles thunder, and you suspect this is the commanding tone his soldiers are used to hearing. 
But you're not: it's gravelly, harsh, and betrays the feeling of having been insulted. You feel even more devastated with yourself – it appears you can do nothing right.
"Where has this… idea even come to your head?"
"I don't know." 
"And you never thought to ask my opinion?"
"Would you please stop yelling," you whisper and blink back some putrid tears. His mouth is snapped shut, his head pulls back just a little as he realizes what he's done. 
"Sorry," he says with a half-whisper, and you catch the strain in his throat. You've never seen him cry, but now his voice is suddenly thin and frail. "I'm sorry."
He takes a step, then another, places fingertips on the counter as if to take the faintest support.
"Can I touch you?"
You don't really want him to do that, but you feel pity for the man. He's trying to find a way through this mess, and you want to help him.
"Yes," you whisper, and he immediately comes and takes you in his arms again. Hot tears disappear into his shirt, and you sniff a few times. He feels so good, so safe, even when you're about to lose him. His hold tightens around you, and the kitchen is silent; the whole world is silent. You don't know if you're being put to a grave or if you're in a deaf womb, waiting to be reborn.
"Now I don't know who's said this shite to you but ugly is the last fucking thing I'd call you," he declares above you. As if it was some bully whose fault it is that you were this way, a bully he could deal with with his fists or a gun. If only things were that easy…
"Have I said or done something? To make you feel this way?"
Then the blade is turned against himself. The man desperately searches for a culprit so he can deal with them.
"No," is the only thing you can say because it's true: he has never done a thing to make you feel like you weren't good enough; quite the contrary. But then again, he doesn't have to. It's enough that he exists and resembles a god.
"Then why do you think you're not my type?"
"Because you're so perfect," you hear yourself wail, no, cry into that shirt that smells of sweet safety and familiar musk – his scent, another thing you have missed like it's the only way to heaven.
"That for sure ain't true."
"But it is."
He seems to have the utmost difficulty in grasping what the issue here is. You can almost hear the wheels turning in his head with a rusty, laborious creak.
"Can't believe you wanna break up because of this," he finally says. You've chipped his pride, the ego that lives off of pleasing the ones he loves: the few chosen ones who he wants to give his whole life to. 
"To me, you're perfect," he then says, and you simply… You stop breathing. "You're like… my dream woman. Ever thought about that?"
It can't be true, even if you vehemently, desperately want it to be. You reach out to his words like they're precious food after years of famine. Like they're sun and spring rain after being buried in the cold, dark soil whole winter.
"No…?"
"Never occurred to you that I might find you fucking beautiful?"
"Stop," you whisper, because it's too much to take in. He sounds so serious, so sincere.
"No, I don't think I will."
He pulls back a little and cups your face. Brushes away a tear, looks at you with so much love that it physically hurts; you feel like it's a lance that slowly drives through your heart.
"How about I kiss every part I love about you?"
You let out a soft little whimper. Fuck, that you want him to… 
It would also be uncomfortable as hell. To try and let him love you and your body, which you have grown to loathe.
"It's gonna take all night, though. Wanna be as thorough as possible."
"Simon–"
"Love. I want you. Thought I'd made it pretty clear, but apparently I haven't. If you only knew how much–"
He sighs deeply. The man is frustrated with his shortcomings, thinks that this is all his fault. You cry a tear or two just for the sake of how absurd it all is. 
"I don't want you to go. I fucking love you. Everything about you."
For the second time this afternoon, your lower lip starts to tremble as if this was some stupid, romantic movie. He can be so soft when he wants to, more romantic than the soft-spoken gentlemen in Jane Austen's novels. It doesn't even require any effort: underneath the cynical surface, there's fiery emotion, so powerful and raw that it almost bleeds out of him. Fuck… Does he even know what he's doing to you?
"I love you too," you whisper back, and the warmth that starts to bloom in his eyes is an entire sun on its own. It's hope, and you believe him, almost believe him.
"Then I'd say it's a bloody bad idea to break up."
You chuckle while few more tears push through to the surface.
"Simon…" You sigh and look back up at him, your armor falling to the floor too. "I feel like a wreck."
You allow him to see the pain, all of it. His breath is sharp as it hits him, but he still doesn't waver.
"Then let me help you."
The arms around you gain more strength, and you're crushed against a chest made of power. He tries to turn shit to gold, and threatens to succeed. You allow yourself to soften in his hold. How good it feels to be supported – no, loved.
"You don't even let me touch you anymore."
It's a filed complaint, but also heart-rending, soul-wrenching longing. You have evaded him for weeks now – hell, this shit began months ago and has escalated gradually, stealthily, until the moments together were a rarity, the space between you was full of frost; and not the crispy, happy summer drink kind.
"I thought you'd found someone else. Could've found out if that was the case in minutes, but honestly, I didn't wanna know."
Oh my God…
Has he lived with a growing suspicion and dread all these months? 
That would explain why he has avoided you too…
He has allowed you to go to your supposed lover, has given you space to be alone and without too much attention. The man has shielded himself from pain. 
Jesus fucking Christ.
"I'm so sorry," you say with a strained little breath. "I swear it's nothing like that. I just… I feel like a mess."
"Never seen such a gorgeous mess." 
He speaks on your skin, the kiss on your forehead feels like an absolution. 
Then you notice it's not only his words which try to assure you. He's growing harder by the minute against your stomach, just from a simple hug. Just from being pressed against you like this, after weeks of dry, bitter longing.
"Miss your taste," he murmurs to your skin, his voice like sand wrapped in burning velvet. "The sounds you make when you want it hard."
Oh God–
"Miss your smile when we go to shower after."
"Hmh…"
"Don't wanna live without that smile."
You don't have to. 
God, you don't have to…
"How about we make a deal," he draws fingers down your chin, coaxing you to look up at him. His eyes are stripped from the cold distance that greeted you just moments ago: now they are filled with warmth that spreads to your chest and belly and bones. You drink him in like summertide.
"You come to me every time you feel bad and I'll make you feel good. Alright?"
"...Ok." 
He tilts his head a little to the side, not entirely satisfied with your shy little answer.
"Come on. Make me believe it."
"It's a deal," you say with more grit to it, even if you're nearly crying again, this time from relief.
"That's my girl."
Oh fuck…
He knows exactly what strings to pull, the good girl talk being one of the things that instantly makes your legs feel like jelly. 
And why does he always have to use that voice when he calls you a good girl or his girl, that sultry smoke that makes you want to swoon until he catches you and carries you to bed?
The man seems to be a mind reader as well, because he sweeps you off your feet and does exactly that: carries you to your bed which has mainly seen silent tears and painful sleep last months.
"Poor thing doesn't even know how lovely she is."
He sounds amused in the face of your darkness: sees it in full and still doesn't fear at all. He's ready to battle your demons for you, and you feel like shaking: from his touch and that voice, from the stress and loneliness that starts to release as he lays you down on the bed.
He looks so different from the man that has haunted this place for the past months, the complete opposite of the reserved soldier retreating into the shadows.
He moves to kiss you, and it's been – what? Weeks since your last kiss? And even that was only a quick peck, nothing like this… Wet, and desperate; a devouring. It makes you clench around nothingness, and you finally surrender. 
No one can fake such fervor.
You try to accept it: accept the fact that even if you hate yourself, he does not. For some reason, he adores you. His breaths hit your face hot and urgent, and he can't keep his hands to himself anymore. They wander over your waist and hips, they even risk to steal a feel of your breasts, and then he groans in your mouth.
"I've missed you. Fuck, I've missed you..."
You taste notes of burning leaves; tobacco, his only weakness. You fantasize on the thought that you might be another weakness, too.
"Remember when I fucked you in my office?"
"I've missed you too," you utter softly in between the kisses that threaten to turn into a sloppy mess. "So much..."
He smiles at that, and it makes you weak, even when lying down like this.
"Yeah…?"
"You were so loud I had to put a hand over your mouth."
His voice is thick as he laughs a short chuckle. Your inner walls clench again at the sound, you throb among the warm syrup surrounding you.
"Never seen you so wet. Almost dripped all over my gear."
"It's that stupid mask you wear," you hear yourself breathe like you've just been underwater. Feel yourself throb some more, feel a burning sensation in the nether areas from the scorched desert turning wet again. You want him so much that it actually hurts down there.
"Knew you'd like it. That's why I kept it on."
If this man keeps talking, your underwear is going to be utterly ruined. And of course he does; of course he continues to pour more love in your ear.
"Everyone looked at you like you were a queen," he grunts in your ear, sounding almost… pissed.
"Don't be ridiculous," you try to form sensible words. It's only a faint breath, really, but he huffs at your modesty. 
"You don't have eyes in the back of your head, love."
Wow… He is a bit pissed.
Had they checked your ass out when you visited him? 
It was the first and, what you thought, the last time you got to visit him at his workplace… but you never would have guessed the reason for him not asking you to visit again would be jealousy. 
"Don't worry. I put those fuckers in their place after you left." 
Whoa. 
Ok…
First, he had fucked you senseless in his office – a highly inappropriate move for a man in his position – then got jealous because some soldiers had checked you out as you left with his cum practically dripping from your cunt.
You put yourself in his shoes for a moment: he's had to live with thoughts of you running to some other man's arms when he's not home, and then watch you waltz around his workplace after making what was supposed to be the last effort to make him love you… When he has loved and adored you this whole time, has watched the sway of your ass with the rest of those home-deprived, horny soldiers, thinking you had fallen out of love and were on your way to go see some other guy.
Had he invited you there to try and win you back, too? By showing himself to you in all his puffed up, masculine glory? A desperate man in a skull mask, hoping to get love from you…
There's so many misunderstandings; they rip your throat. A sob escapes, and he stops his caress.
"Love… Tell me to stop if you–"
"No. No, I don't want you to stop." 
Your request comes out with such demand that he hesitates only a second or two. Then he moves on top of you and tugs your skirt up. You don't even have time to realize what is happening before he has worked himself out of his pants.
He's hard and heavy between your legs, and your eyes go wide as you realize he's not going to bother to take your briefs off. He just slides a hand under the skirt and draws the fabric aside, and the fat tip of him is pushed in the middle almost clumsily. It's hot, and slips down to your opening with ease.
Oh f–
"Been jerking off to you nearly every night at the base," he says just before he pushes himself in. 
"Uh–...."
Your thighs spread wide as he fills you slowly, inch after inch. The sound that leaves him is starved: a dry, painful sigh. He's been waiting for this for god knows how long, and you're just as hungry to take him in. He seems endless, the way he finally works himself fully inside, spreading you even wider as the thickening base of his cock reaches its end. 
"Thought you were getting railed by someone else while I only get to fuck my hand."
"Oh god…"
There's really nothing else to say as his balls press against you, heavy and taut. He's not going to last long.
"Yeah. Imagine that," he admits, breathless like you. 
You look at him with what must be the most helpless stare of longing in your eyes. Then he moves, and you want to grip him to keep him inside. The first thrusts are divine, they're pure heaven, and your head sinks deep into the pillow as you try to get enough air, try to not scream from pleasure already. Somehow, all you are able to utter is a desperate little whisper.
"Simon–"
His cock is good enough to bring tears to your eyes. You're starving too, you're pulling him in with fierce hunger, and he groans, then nearly falls forward, his weight pressing against you, swallowing you, until you feel like you're an idiot for thinking that you're too big. The thickness of his chest rubs against you as he makes love to you with passion that echoes the first times you did this.
"Just wanna adore you, love." He's panting desperate somewhere above you. A god and a man, both furious and gentle. "I wanna adore you. Just like this."
You answer him with what must be those sounds he told you about, the sounds you make when you want it hard. 
You want him to fuck you, to wreck you after weeks of loneliness and hate. To love you until you break into a million pieces.
"Simon," you whisper. "...Love me."
He halts, huffs in your neck. It's almost a sob. There's so much emotion and desperation in the air that it could be scooped up and sold in the streets.
"Always," he rasps in your ear, then moves to kiss you again. "Always."
The promise echoes around you, it coats your lips as he loves you with all he has. It's been so long, and he feels so good that you nails dig into his shirt, his shoulder, you try to hold onto him even though he's the wave that rocks you.
"You feel that?" He goes deep; he's out of breath and desperate, even more desperate than you. "That's love. You feel it, yeah?"
"Yes," you sob in his shoulder, tears trying to escape your waterline as you're going dumb from the pure sensation, the sensuality of it all. 
"That's it, love. That's a good girl," he turns to your neck and gruffs in your ear as you whimper and moan. "Always such a good girl."
Shit…
"I, I'm gonna…"
Your legs wrap around his middle, your muscles twitch and your hands reach and grab – they claw and yank and tug everything they can: his back, shoulders, shirt, something sturdy to keep you from drowning in a glorious orgasm.
He laughs in your neck and continues to grind you through your climax even when you're shattering, sighing, moaning, writhing under him. He just laughs, the man who never laughs: from witnessing you respond to him calling you a good girl.
Fucking bastard…
Lovable, infuriating bastard who knows you to your core. 
You're an overstimulated heap by the time he comes as well, not long after you, but long enough to make you feel like you're only a tender bunch of nerves. Your legs have fallen to the side, he has open access to take what he needs: you, your love, all of it.
His whole middle goes tense as he cums, he groans and swears somewhere deep into your neck, rolls his hips over and over again like it's a must that his balls press against you with every thrust that shoot his load. 
Then he falls slack, nearly collapses on top of you, reminding you of what it feels like to be small under a giant like him. You're throbbing together, you're full and fulfilled, and he is still lodged deep inside you, panting and broken in a sweat.
"Jesus Christ…" 
He sounds dazed. 
Relieved. 
"Should've done this weeks ago."
You laugh at seeing him so done – a man in love, torn by jealous yearning, finally taking what's his. You stroke his neck, his back – it's so good to have him finally there… So close, with no barriers in between.
"I should've talked to you weeks ago..." 
"Yeah. You should have."
"Are you going to punish me?" You giggle a little – the flirt is light and frees your heart further from its recent jail. He moves to look at you with all the tenderness there is. It's too much... His love is too much. But you won't run from it anymore.
"Nah. Think I'm gonna spoil you some more."
He spoils you right away with a kiss. You surrender to his treatment with happiness: happy tears, even. 
The medicine to your anguish has been the exact opposite to what you had first tried, what you had originally thought. The true remedy for your sickness is mercy. Perhaps some spoiling…
And love.
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fallingdownhell · 8 months
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Hi it's me again 😅
Is it okay if I request something very specific and angry cause I'm bad at writing fanfics.
Well if it's okay could you do a Ayato x Reader
«Where Reader is in an arrangement marriage with Ayato but despite this fact she somehow ended up falling in love with him. But for Ayato the Marriage was nothing other than a political stunt. So when you get a sickness you keep it a secret from him until Thoma had a enough tells Ayato but before Ayato could rescue you, you had already succumbed the illness. And lay on the floor in your own pool of blood. That was the day Ayato regretted he's life decisions the most. Had he just listened to he's heart instead of his brain, just maybe you would have told him»
Is this too much to ask?
Of course! I'm so sorry I'm so late with your request. Still hope that it's what you imagined it to be. Pairing: Ayato x Reader Content: female reader; arranged marriage; unhappy marriage; Hanahaki AU; blood; major character death; unhappy ending (if I forgot to mention something, please tell me and I'll add it!) Word count: 2,1k words Requested by: @smaika Hope you enjoy<3
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Catching your breath again, you stare down at the bloodied tissue in your hands, mind empty.
It's gotten even worse now. The petals, that were smeared with blood, were now also accompanied by a few thornes scattered here and there.
Now you knew where that scratchy and uncomfortable feeling in your throat came from, at least. It was those thornes, most likely.
With shaking hands, you grab the headboard of the bed, sitting down on the bed while you try to calm yourself down again. The coughing fit has gone by, but there was still blood dripping from your lips. At least you didn't stain the bed sheets, or it would probably have rosen suspicion from the housekeepers.
It has been a few weeks now since this whole thing has started. It began with just a general feeling of getting sick. Just some slight nausea and a sore throat, nothing to wrack your brain too hard about. But then the coughing started, and nothing, no medicine or whatever else you tried seemed to help against it.
And then the blood and flower petals came into the mix. When you coughed up the first red petal, you instantly realized what it was you were suffering through. Coincidentally, that was also the moment when Thoma walked in on you and figured it out, as well.
He had been worried sick about you, seeing as you didn't seem to get better at all. That day, he returned from the city with a new medicine he had planned on giving to you, but when he walked in and saw you, hunched over the sink in the bathroom, blood and bloodied petals in there, it didn't take him long to figure it out.
He was already halfway out the room, hellbent on telling the Master of the estate, and your husband. But you begged him not to, pleaded to him to keep it between the two of you.
Thoma did not understand your reasoning behind this request, but he saw the desperation behind your eyes, and he just couldn't bring himself to act against your wishes. Because no matter the professional relationship you two had, you were also friends. And he just couldn't betray a friend like that.
So he reluctantly agreed, promising you not to tell a word about this to Ayato. But that didn't mean that he wouldn't still go out and try to find a cure for you.
And here you were now, weak and sick, sitting on the bed you shared with your husband and contemplating how you got to this point in your life. But deep down, you already knew how this all came to be, and also, how this whole thing would end..
Your marriage with Ayato was by far not the happy fairytale you had always dreamed it would be. The arrangements of the marriage had been taken care of years prior, without any of you two having a say in it in the first place.
You did only get to meet Ayato a total of three times before you were married of to him. And despite all those facts, you couldn't bring yourself to mind it all that much. The Ayato you got to know over the course of those few meetings was a kind and gentle one, respectful of your wishes, although a bit too caught up in matters of work and politics.
It didn't take much for you to actually fall in love with him. A few nice words and compliments from him, a nice gesture there and you were head over heels for him. And then seeing how kindly he treated his staff and his sister only sealed the deal for you.
You couldn't wait to get married to him and recieving that same loving and respectful treatment from him as his wife, looking forward to the days that would be ahead of you, together with him by your side as your husband.
What you didn't expect however, was the complete turn he did one the marriage ceremony was dealt with.
Every time you tried to engage in conversation with him, trying to get to know your husband better, he would shut you down or just flat out ignore you. Every time you tried to touch him, even as innocent as laying a hand on his shoulder to get his attention, he would push you away from him.
You were attending social events with him, though he never held your hand and didn't bother to keep you around him. You slept in the same room together, in the same bed even, and he has never made a move on you even once this entire time.
Often times, he comes to bed long after you've already fallen asleep and is already awake again by the time you get up in the morning. At first you brushed it off as him being crowded with work, or even a bit shy about this new arrangement. However, since his behaviour towards you never changed, you couldn't help but begin to think that there was an actual intent behind it. Wether that was because he didn't like this marriage, or you specifically, you couldn't tell, because he wouldn't talk to you.
But you were certain that those events are what led you to your current situation at hand.
Hanahaki disease..
A disease stemming from unrequitted love towards another person. One that would kill the affected person if those feelings were not returned.
No one really knows how this disease came to be and there wasn't really much that could be done about it, either. Once affected with it, there were only really a few ways to handle this situation.
One. You could simply do nothing at all, but that would lead to your certain death.
Two. There were surgeries available, though these procedures are still very much experimental, and a huge side effect would be loosing any and all feelings towards the person that the affected one had feelings for in the first place.
Or three. You could tell Ayato about your predicament. But knowing him by now, he wouldn't care about it, which would only result in you nearing your end sooner.
You appreciated Thoma for going out there and trying to find some form of other cure, but you and him were both well aware that there wasn't any. He was reaching for solutions that just weren't there.
You had briefly considered the option of undergoing such an experimental surgery, but ultimately decided against it. It just didn't feel right to you, staying married to a man that you wouldn't feel anything for. No joy, happiness, sadness.. nothing. But, were you really ready to give your life for him...?
A moment later, your train of thoughts got interrupted by the opening door of your bedroom, a familiar blonde head poking through the opening. You looked at Thoma, who carefully entered the room and closed the door behind him, kneeling down in front of you.
He looked at the bloodied tissue in your hands, noticing the thornes mixed in there.
"It got worse..", were his quietly spoken words. You couldn't muster a respone, only a small, weak nod. Thoma then gently pulled the tissue from your graps, throwing it in the trash, before he returned to your side.
"I'll help you lay down. You need to rest, (Name)."
You just nodded again, not having the energy to argue with him right now. He helped you to lay down on the bed, a warm hand brushing over your forehead and almost immediately after that, you blacked out from pure exhaustion.
........
Thoma has had enough. He had no idea why you were so hellbent on not telling Ayato about your condition, but he couldn't take it anymore. Even if it meant breaking his promise to you, he could no longer just stand by and watch his friend wither away and die while he could do nothing about it.
If there was a chance that all this could be fixed, he just had to take the risk now. He's waited far too long already, the guilt eating away at him more and more with each passing day.
Quick, determined footsteps echoed from the halls as the blonde aimed for the office of the head master of the Yashiro commission, knowing that he usually locks himself in there the entire day to get his work done.
Out of pure politeness, Thoma still knocked, though he did not wait for an answer from his Lord this time around. Instead, he swiftly opened the door and entered the room, quickly closing the door behind him again as to not cause too much attention from the other staff.
Ayato, sitting at his table, hunched over many papers, did not even look up when the blonde went and stood right in front of the desk.
"Did something important come up, Thoma?", he asks, though the tone in his voice is void of any actual interest in his answer.
"Yes, my Lord. It's about (Name)."
At this, Ayato sighed heavily, dropping his pen and squinting his eyes, rubbing his temples like the topic brought him great pain.
"Look, I know what you want to say, but we've been over this. It was an arranged marriage that was mutually agreed upon by both our parents. Just because she's my wife does not mean-!"
"She's dying, Ayato!", Thoma interrupted him and that sentence quickly shut the Commissioner up. Would he not have been so shocked over the statement itself, he would have been shocked about the untypical rude behaviour displayed by Thoma right now.
"..What do you mean by that?", he asked instead after a few beats of pure silence, in which Ayato tried to comprehend what was just said to him.
"Exactly that. (Name) is dying if you don't get up and finally talk to them about everything. I know you like to tell yourself that you don't feel anything for her and that you're keeping her out of things, but you're just making it worse for her.
I.. I don't think she can make it much longer."
Ayato wanted to laugh. Surely, this was all just a cruel joke the both of you decided to play on him, maybe your newest strategie to get him to pay attention to you. But this is Thoma standing in front of him. He doesn't joke about this kind of stuff.
Realizing now how dire the situation must be, Ayato quickly got up and headed towards your shared bedroom, where Thoma told him you were resting at the moment. The sooner he got this all handled with, the better.
Soon after, he stood infront of the bedroom door, gently knocking on it. He didn't want to startle you in case you were still sleeping in there. When no response came, he gently slid the door open, only to freeze in shock because of the scene that played out in front of him.
There you were, laying on the floor, your body pale and almost lifeless, as a puddle of blood was next to your head, blood still dripping from your lips.
"(Name)!" Without even realizing what he was doing at first, Ayato rushed right over to your side, turning you to your back. When you didn't show any reaction however, he began shouting for help while tears began to form in his eyes..
This couldn't be happening..
Not like this...
He didn't even notice when Thoma and a bunch of other people, who had also heard his desperate shouting, entered the room. They were gathering around you, Thoma frantically dropping down and searching for a pulse from you.
And Ayato knew..
He knew that you were gone, even before he saw that sad look in Thoma's eyes and the slow, little, almost unnoticable shake of his head.
But... this had to have been just a dream, right? A nightmare, that he's going to wake up from soon.
Surely, this wasn't really happening... he couldn't just have lost you like this..
He thought he was doing the right thing by keeping you at a distance, keeping you out of the dangers that dealing with certain people does involve. He didn't want for you to corrupt like him, to stay your pure and unapologetically kind self.
To know now that this was the wrong decision, that he basically killed you himself...
He should have just induldged you, talked to you, treating you like he should have, like you really were his wife..
Maybe then all of this wouldn't have happened..
Maybe then, you'd still be alive right now...
But now it's too late. And all he could do right now, is to hold you in his arms, right here with Thoma, and mourn the way things went...
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wonlovie · 1 year
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— ALWAYS.
After being broken up with, the cherry on top was receiving an invitation to your ex-boyfriend's wedding, leaving you breaking at the seams. Luckily for you, your childhood best friend is there to keep you together.
— starring. childhood bestfriend!jake x fem!reader ft. the slightest appearance of niki, mentions of ex!heeseung and le sserafim's chaewon (she was the first one i thought of LOL)
— tags. friends-to-lovers, slowburn, minor angst, jake is highkey a thigh guy, road trip!!, the oh-no-there's-only-one-bed trope several times over, smut [fem. masturbation while in the same bed, vaginal fingering, oral (f. receiving), handjob, very soft-dom!jake, first time, praising, unprotected sex, reader cries, use of petnames (princess, pretty girl, baby; he also calls you a whore/slut like,, twice) kind of but not really fwb situation [MINORS DNI]]
— word count. 14.3k
— notes. this is the first fic i've posted here!! i also started writing this like,, the day i got covid so if some sentences make zero sense it's because i was loopy af lmAOO on another note jake??? sim jake??? writing this wasnt good for my heart bc he was driving me insane the whOLE TIME
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SIXTEEN DAYS.
When you got the invitation in the mail, a single piece of cardstock carefully decorated with ornate blue lace and beautifully handwritten script, you had half the mind to ignore it. Throw it in the trash, maybe. If the sender asked, you could feign innocence. It got lost in the mail, and perhaps I never received it at all.
Unfortunately for you, your conscience kicked you swiftly in the ass before you could even step on your trash bin pedal. 
Begrudgingly, you really had no choice but to go. After all, it was your cousin’s wedding—a day you had both raved about since you were young children. You could still recall the silly Pinterest boards you put together, regrettably filled with tacky and outdated decor. Your cousin, Chaewon, even called you before the invitation was sent to your box, her excited voice crawling out of your phone speaker and taunting you with sharp licks against your ear.
You should be happy. Really, you should. Aside from Lemon, your newly adopted Jindo puppy, Chaewon was your favourite. Despite moving across the country for university, you were there for her as she was for you. Not a single day went by without an hour-long phone call between the two of you, filled to the brim with conversation or spent in peaceful silence.
The issue wasn’t Chaewon. No, it was far worse than that. The issue was her husband-to-be, a man you despised with every cell of your being.
Lee Heeseung. In other words, your ex. 
It was jarring for you to see the very man who seemed to date you out of pity, never truly initiating intimacy or even trying to pretend to be interested in the things you’d tell him, be so sweet to Chaewon. You had, unfortunately, witnessed their love firsthand on multiple occasions. The longing glances, the whispered sweet nothings, the subtle caresses when they thought no one was looking. 
You hated how bitter you felt about it. His last words to you felt like they were tattooed onto your eyelids.
“I’m sorry, but… I don’t think we should date anymore. I think I’ve found someone else.”
Of course, you were heartbroken. Heeseung was your first boyfriend and your first love. You had tried so damn hard to be the receiver of his affections, but your efforts always fell short. The next week, Chaewon approached you with tears brimming her eyes, begging for forgiveness; you knew that whatever you had with Heeseung was officially history. 
Chaewon, the angel, denied his advances until you pushed her to say yes, as you knew she wanted to. 
And now, your decision had come full circle, the ugly truth rearing its head at you. Your feelings for Heeseung were long gone, but with the breakup came a hundred insecurities you didn’t know you had, hence the big move. Maybe with space, you could heal.
“Stupid,” you whispered as your eyes scanned the invitation for the nth time in the past ten minutes. You rubbed harshly at your eyes, forcing the tears away. With a shaking finger, you traced the wedding date, briefly glancing up at the dog calendar that hung on the wall next to your fridge. 
Gingerly dropping the invitation onto the kitchen counter, you quietly counted the days left. The wedding was just over two weeks away, a beautiful August wedding. You don’t know how long you stood there, goosebumps prickling on your thighs as the morning air brushed against them. Your oversized tee did little to combat the cold.
A quiet knocking at the door made you jump. Swearing under your breath, you swiped at your cheeks to rid any evidence of tears. You shuffled to the front door and peeked through the peephole. A man stood there, hands in his jeans pockets, as he waited for you to answer. However, his head was down, which blocked his face from view.
When you didn’t answer right away, he knocked again just as gently as he had before. This time, though, he called out your name. 
Startled, you paused with your hands pressed against the door, eyes still pressed against the peephole. You knew that voice, instantly recognizing the accent that spilled into his words. Pulling the door open, your suspicions were correct when you were met with your childhood best friend, Jake.
A wide grin pulled at the corners of your lips as you looked the man up and down. “Holy shit,” you started, laughter in your voice. “What are you doing here?” Stepping back to let him in, you eyed his wide shoulders as he bent over to untie his shoes. “You never said you were coming to visit.”
Jake lazily smiled up at you as he tugged off the last shoe. His eyes drifted down for a second, catching sight of your bare legs. Not a moment later, he averted them. “Damn, hello to you too, sweets.” When he stood to his full height, he leaned into a comfortable slouch, shoving his hands into the pockets of his well-worn jeans. “Chaewon didn’t tell you?” He tilted his head at you in question.
Shaking your head no, you headed to the kitchen where you left your phone. Finding your chatroom with Chaewon, you scanned the contents quickly. “Look—”
You turned to show Jake your previous texts, but as you swivelled on your heel, you hadn’t expected him to be so close. You jumped slightly, the small of your back pressing into the cool countertop as Jake hovered over you, seemingly inches away. You could practically count his every lash from your angle, not missing how his eyes scanned your face.
Apparently, he didn’t expect to be so close either, as the tips of his ears reddened. “My bad,” as he moved to give you space. He pushed back his hair—when had he dyed it blonde?— to see your screen better. Reading quickly, he snorted at Chaewon’s lack of warning for his arrival, her last message simply being: ;).
“I thought you knew I’d be coming, so I didn’t bother sending a text,” he explained. “Chae wants me to be your escort to the wedding.”
“My what?”
Jake grinned at you, flashing his pearly whites. “Y’know, your stead. Your chauffeur. Your knight in shining armour, if you will.”
“Those aren’t the same in the slightest, Jake.”
“You get what I mean, sweets.” 
You hummed, resting your palms atop the counter by your sides. “Why so early, though? The wedding isn’t for a couple of weeks.” He opened his mouth to say something, but a sharp yip from your bedroom interrupted him. You practically watched as elation flooded his senses when he spun on the spot, searching for the sound source.
Pushing yourself off the counter, you lightly bumped his shoulder with your own as you manoeuvred around him. “Looks like someone’s awake,” you sang as you headed down the hall. You could hear Jake’s heavier, sock-clad footsteps following you into your bedroom as you called out for Lemon.
The little pup bounded toward you, jumping from your bed with a tail that wagged so fast you were concerned she’d sprain it. With her tongue out, she hopped on her hind legs, unsure of whether she should greet you or Jake first. “Lemon, this is Jake,” you introduced as you picked her up. Gently moving her paw in a waving motion, you smiled at him. “Jake, this is the love of my life, Lemon.”
He sent you a teasing smile, “I thought that was my title.” You flushed at the unexpected remark. Before you could respond, he turned to Lemon with a soft expression. “Hi, Lemon. Hope you’re taking good care of sweets for me.” Cooing at the pup, he booped her nose.
Without a word, you motioned for him to follow you back to the living room, situating yourself on the small leather couch worn from years of hand-me-down use. Lemon hopped off your lap, her tail wagging as she beckoned Jake to sit down. He was quick to join you, sitting close enough for your knees to touch when Jake shifted his body to face you. You scanned him up and down.
He’d changed a bit, clearly, since the last you saw him. He wasn’t nearly as scrawny as before, his broad frame apparent from under his unzipped jacket. He had lost the baby fat in his cheeks, leaving behind a sharp jawline. The biggest change to note was his hair. Long gone were the black tresses, and in their place were soft blond locks.
In other words, he was hot.
“When did this happen?” you asked as he shrugged his jacket off, reaching up to twist a strand with your finger. “It looks good on you.”
Jake sent you a teasing look, the corners of his lips tugging upwards. “You would’ve known I went blond like a month and a half ago if you actually read your messages,” he chided, clicking his tongue. His eyes stayed on you, flitting across your face.
“Whatever,” you hushed, “I’ve just been busy with school.” It's a lie, but he doesn’t need to know that. No one needed to know that you’ve spent the last few months acting like a heartbroken teen when you were a grown adult. Despite Jake having seen the worst parts of you in high school, you still wanted him to hold some esteem for you.
For a second, it was quiet aside from Lemon’s quiet sniffing, her nose working quickly on Jake’s discarded coat. Jake held eye contact with you, a silent question reflected in his eyes. 
“It’s still weird to me.”
Raising a brow, you rested your elbow on the back of the couch, resting your head against your palm. “What is?”
He stayed silent for a minute before leaning back against the couch, turning his head slightly to face you. “I can’t just walk down the block to annoy you now. Now, you’re four hours away unless I want to spend a few hundred on a plane ticket.” He stuck out his tongue, “‘Dunno why you didn’t stay.” His voice was light, teasing, but you could hear a slight edge to his words.
You huffed, “You know exactly why I left.”
For a moment, neither of you said anything. When Heeseung broke up with you, Jake was the first one you told. Despite being an incoherent, blubbering mess over the phone, he came the instant he heard the first sob rack your body. That night, he held you without a word until your tears ran dry.
“You still hung up about it?”
Pausing, you shook your head. “No,” you bit your lip, not catching the way his eyes darted down to watch, “not anymore, anyway. I don’t feel anything for Heeseung if that’s what you’re asking.” You cracked a sardonic smile at him, punching his shoulder and chuckling when Lemon followed your movement. “Not that pathetic yet, Jake.”
He fully turned his body to you, the leather couch squeaking under his shifting weight. His golden hair fell into his eyes as he bore into yours. “I was there, remember?” His voice was gentle as if he was worried he’d scare you off. “I know it hurt more than you’re letting on. It wasn’t that long ago.”
You silently cursed him for still being able to read you so well, even after so long apart. Absentmindedly, you tugged on the hem of your shirt, playing with the edge that was starting to fray after years of use. Jake leaned forward, placing a warm hand on your bare thigh. “I’ll be there the whole time. If you want me to, I’ll stay right beside you the whole night.”
Your eyes darted to where his large hand rested on your skin, swallowing harshly. “Yeah,” you whispered, looking back up at him through your lashes. “That’d be… really nice, Jake.” You shakily exhaled; his proximity and his touch made your every nerve go haywire. Since when did Jake, your best friend since you were in diapers, have this effect on you? Looking up at the mop of messy blond on his head, you blamed the change in colour.
Jake didn’t say anything for a while but never moved his hand. The two of you sat there, staring into each other's eyes. Lemon had long ago gotten comfy in the small space between you, round eyes closed in rest. “I’ll always be there for you, you know that, right?” He said finally, voice barely above a whisper.
You could only nod, your every thought directed to the hand on your thigh, his thumb rubbing circles on the inside of your leg.
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You offered Jake your shower while you went to get his luggage from his car. At first, he refused, telling you that he could get the luggage himself and take a shower afterward, but you had practically shoved him into the bathroom, claiming he smelt bad from the drive. 
Truthfully, he smelt good as ever, having always possessed an addicting scent to you.
Besides, this way, you could clear your head with some fresh air as you left and headed to your apartment parking lot. Easily spotting his car, much newer than any of the models your neighbours had, you jogged over to it. Once inside, you noted how clean the car was, coming as somewhat of a surprise to you. A carwash receipt peaked out from the middle console.
Lugging his suitcase out from the backseat, you were quick to make your way back, lest Jake be left without clothes for too long. Shutting your front door behind you, you nearly let out a scream when, on cue, Jake emerged from a cloud of steam, donning only your fluffy blue towel. He hadn’t noticed you yet, using another towel to shake out the excess water from his hair.
Unknowingly, your eyes followed a bead of water as it trailed down his toned body, disappearing under the towel that threatened to unravel itself, sending your mind into a frenzy. Turning around before he could realize that you were ogling at him like some pervert, you cleared your throat. “Got your suitcase,” you forced out. “You can change in my room if you want.”
“Ah, thanks, sweets.” You listened for his footsteps, tensing as they came closer. “Why so shy?” He inquired with a chuckle at the tip of his tongue. “‘S not like you’ve never seen me naked before.”
“Jake, we were five.”
“Still,” he laughed. You were startled when he patted your shoulder, gently turning you to face him more. You swallowed harshly at the sight of his naked chest up close. “Joking. Thanks for grabbing my stuff.” Without another word, he turned around and disappeared behind your bedroom door.
Letting out a breath, you pressed your forehead against the cool surface of your front door, holding a hand over your heart. Lemon’s tiny paws brought her over to you, the click clicks of her nails against the hardwood taking your attention away from your thoughts. She looked up at you, her head tilted as though she was questioning you. “I must be going crazy, huh?” You knelt down to let her jump on you, her front paws pressing into your leg. 
“Layla’d love her,” Jake’s voice interrupted. You looked up to see him dressed in comfy attire, a dim disappointment settling in your stomach. “You hungry? I can order something for us.”
Rolling your eyes, you stood up. “You’re my guest, Jake. I can order.” You pulled out your phone and open a delivery app. Before you could get too far, the phone was taken from your grasp, left in Jake’s palm as he stared at you in challenge.
With a shake of his head, he denied you. “I may be your guest, but you’re also housing me for two weeks. Plus, I haven’t seen you in forever.” He hunched over to meet your eyes, “My treat. You can pay next time, promise.”
By the time the food arrived, you and Jake had settled in on the couch, a random movie playing on the TV. Quiet chatter filled the space. The movie had already been forgotten, acting as mere background noise to your conversation. You dug into your food without missing a beat, covering your mouth to retort whenever Jake would make a jab at you. 
“You never got to answer my question,” you prompted, putting down your chopsticks and resting the take-out container on the coffee table. “Why’d you come so early? Why not closer to the wedding?”
You watched Jake pause, his expression unreadable. “Would you believe me if I said I just wanted to see you?” he asked, voice low as he turned to look at you. His blond hair had been pushed up and back so many times strands framed his face, allowing you to see all of it. “Because I do,” he continued, shrugging as if he weren’t making your heart race, “I want to see you. All the time.”
Unsure of how to respond, you sputtered for a moment before turning away, your cheeks warm. “I’ve wanted to see you too,” you mumbled, “so thanks. For coming.”
“For you? Always.”
Rolling your eyes, you bumped Jake with your shoulder. “When did you get so cheesy?”
Jake pulled his lower lip under his teeth for a second, biting at the plump flesh as he mulled over an answer. “Just missed you, is all.”
Nodding, you turned your head to watch the rest of the movie. It was confusing since neither of you watched the first half. Beside you, Jake turned to do the same. If either of you noticed how the space between you had become nonexistent, thighs and shoulders pressed together, no one said a word. You couldn’t complain, enjoying how Jake’s warmth seeped through his clothes and into your skin.
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Without realizing it, the both of you fell asleep. The TV had gone dark after hours of inactivity, the moon lighting up the room with a dark hue. Jake awoke first, grumbling when his neck had a familiar ache in it. But when he went to roll his shoulder, something was in the way. Or rather, someone. He turned, pursing his lips to stay quiet as he realized you were leaning on him.
Your legs were draped over his own, something you must’ve done in your sleep. Or maybe it was him searching for a source of warmth in the coolness of the night. His arm was wrapped around your shoulder, your head fitting directly in the crook of his neck. He felt his skin burn as he swore quietly. Pulling out his phone, he glanced at the time.
3:02 a.m.
As slowly as he could, he hooked one arm under your knees and the other around your back. Standing, he hoped his racing heart wouldn’t wake you. Jake maneuvered the dark apartment as best he could without accidentally hitting your head against the walls of your hallway. Luckily, you left your bedroom door open, so he didn’t need to figure that out somehow. 
Lemon was already asleep, curled up on your left pillow. Carefully, he laid you down on the bed, pushing away stray hairs on your face afterward. He stayed there for a moment, staring at your peaceful expression. His heart warmed, a tingly feeling in his belly erupting at the sight of you. He tugged the blanket over your body, pressing a finger to his lips when Lemon startled awake.
Tucking you in, he hovered for a minute before pressing a soft kiss against your forehead. “Night, sweets,” he whispered before moving to his feet. Before he could get very far, a hand shot out from under the blanket and weakly grasped at his wrist. Turning, Jake held a breath at the sight of your sleepy eyes gazing up at him. “Only have one bed,” you slurred, sleep taking over your speech. “Sleep here.”
Jake balked at you, hands subconsciously balling at his sides. “Are you sure? I can sleep on the couch—”
“No! Sleep here.” You didn’t give him much room to argue as you scooted backwards to give him some room before lifting the blanket in invitation. This movement bugged Lemon, clearly, as she moved from your pillow to lay in the nook of your bent legs. “Come on, we’ve slept in the same bed before.”
Swallowing at the sight of you, eyes barely open and shirt riding up further than he could handle, Jake relented, knowing you would keep arguing with him until daylight. The last time we slept in the same bed, you were bawling your eyes out over Heeseung, he stopped himself from saying. The thought lingered as he crawled in next to you, keeping a respectful distance. 
Satisfied, you allowed your heavy lids to close, a small, contented smile painted on your lips. “G’night, Jake.”
He sighed. “Good night, sweets.”
You fell asleep instantly, hand resting on the pillow in front of your face. Jake mirrored your position, your pinkies centimetres from touching. He observed the slow rise and fall of your chest and the occasional sniffs when your hair would fall and tickle your nose. His eyes traced your every feature, from the curve of your cheek to your supple lips. 
Jake did not sleep well that night.
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FOURTEEN DAYS.
Two days after Jake had made an appearance, he quickly fell into a routine with you. He would wake up first and have a cup of coffee ready for you whenever you’d sleepily bound into the kitchen. A bowl of cereal would already be sitting on the counter, the jug of milk sitting beside it. Your mornings were quiet as you both woke up, only a raspy “good morning” before you’d sit in silence over your bowls.
It had been a long time since you had such normalcy, and you’d be lying if you said you hated it.
“Hey,” he started, only half done chewing his cereal. “We have, like, two weeks left until we actually need to be in Seoul, right?”
You eyed him suspiciously for his cheery tone so early in the morning. Swallowing your food first, you nodded. “Yeah, but Chae wants us back at least two days before in case things need fixing or whatever.” Sipping your coffee, you raised a brow at him, “Why?”
Grinning at you, he leaned over to grab your arm in excitement. Your eyes darted to where you connected, noting how his thumb immediately started rubbing the inside of your wrist, making you cross your legs under the table. “Let’s make our trip back a road trip!”
You blinked. “Jake. You drove here—it was already going to be a road trip to go back.���
Jake threw his head back in a groan, inadvertently showing you his Adam’s apple as it bobbed up and down. You followed the movement down to his wide shoulders before looking away a second before he straightened up to meet eyes with you. “Dummy, I know that. Let’s make it a fun road trip with loads of stops and everything!” He talked animatedly, waving his hands with reckless abandon. “There are lots of small towns and pitstops on the way to Seoul, but we’ve never actually explored them.”
“How do you know I haven’t?”
Jake looked at you as if you had grown two heads. “If you have and I wasn’t invited, your best friend card is being revoked this instant. You hear me? Revoked.”
Laughing, you stood and grabbed both of your empty bowls. “Fine, we can have your fun road trip. You’re doing all the planning, though, since it was your idea.” You tilted his coffee mug toward you to see if he had finished it, placing it back where it was when you saw the brown liquid still swirling inside. He followed you to the sink, sleeves already rolled up when you placed the porcelain into the basin.
You didn’t say anything when he gently pulled you to the side and grabbed the sponge to start cleaning. “I already have the route!” He told you, not taking his eyes off the dishes. “It’s in my phone. You can look—it’s in the notes app.” Peaking at you through his lashes, he nodded his head in the general direction of where he left his phone. “Password’s still the same.”
You snorted, picking it up from the table before joining him at the sink, hopping up on the counter beside him. As you entered your birthyear into the phone, you didn’t catch the way he eyes your thighs, your shorts doing little to nothing to cover up the way they flattened slightly against the cool marble. “Y’know,” you started, ripping him out of his thoughts, ushering him to quickly place the bowls and spoons onto your drying rack. “This is a shitty password. You’re gonna get robbed one day.”
 He shrugged, pulling the hand towel off your oven’s handle to dry his hands. You watched him, silently ogling at the veins that popped out in his forearms when he turned to replace the towel. “Maybe, but it’s important to me.”
“My birth year?”
He grinned at you with a simple nod, standing between your thighs. His eyes fell to them once more when you absentmindedly spread your legs to give him room to stand. Biting the inside of his cheek, he shakily rested his palms on either side of you, moving slow enough for you to object if you were uncomfortable. "It's the year my favourite person was born, after all." You didn’t say anything, instead looking back at his phone screen.
He watched as your eyes flit back and forth as you read, his fingers itching to move closer to you, to touch your skin. He opted to curl his fingers until his nails dug into his palms. “When did you figure this out?” You asked, smiling at the title of the note.
Sweets and Jake’s Road Trip !!!
“Last night, while you slept.”
You shot him a look, searching for eye bags. You were relieved when you didn’t see any, but you punched his shoulder nonetheless. “Idiot. If you can’t sleep, you can wake me, you know? You don’t have to stay up by yourself.” You placed a hand on his forearm, rubbing your thumb over a jutting vein just as he had to you moments before.
His urge to touch you grew stronger, and he felt his mental fortitude crumbling at the contact. Clearing his throat, Jake shrugged. “You’re cute when you sleep, princess. Didn’t want to wake you.” Moving away before your scent could drive him any more insane, he rubbed the back of his neck. “So? What’s the verdict?”
Lips parted from his casual slip of a nickname you’d never heard from him before, you dumbly nodded. “Good. It’s good. Let’s do it.” You hopped down from the counter, Jake’s hands immediately moving to steady you once you got on your feet. “When do we leave?”
Jake grinned at you, revealing his canines. “Whenever you’re ready, sweets.”
You returned the smile, excitement starting to affect you. “Let’s get ready then, shall we?”
It didn’t take either of you very long to get your suitcases and essentials put together. Jake had mostly kept his things in his suitcase, only pulling out clothes he needed for the day or toiletries that you didn’t have any to spare. Two toothbrushes sat in a cup instead of the usual one, and the sight made you grin as you collected your things. Chaewon had your dress up in Seoul, so you didn’t need to worry about any of that either.
An hour after Jake proposed the road trip, he was waiting outside, one hand clasped over both of your luggage handles, the other holding Lemon’s carrier as you locked the door. The two of you walked out to his car in silence, the crisp morning air making you shiver under your thin jacket. “It’s still summer,” you complained in a long drawl, “why is it so fucking cold in the morning?”
Jake laughed at you, thanking you when you opened the back door of his car for him and carefully slid the luggage and carrier in. “Relax, princess, I’ll turn the heat on just for you, yeah?”
You grumbled at his teasing, taking your spot in the passenger seat without a word as he held the door open for you. You watched him jog around the car to reach his side, never taking your eyes off him as he fiddled with the A/C. As he turned the ignition on, he handed you his phone. “Put something on for me, will you?” 
As he drove, you noted the fact that he drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting casually on the middle console. His arms were exposed in the black tee he wore, seemingly not as affected by the cold as you were. You willed yourself not to notice how the shirt was unfairly form-fitting, wrapping around the bulk of his bicep in a way that was sending you spinning. 
The first stop was five minutes away from your apartment as Jake pulled into the parking lot of a nearby convenience store. Jake unrolled the windows a bit for Lemon, telling her to be good as the both of you exited the vehicle. Once inside, you shivered at how strong the store had its A/C running. 
Eyeing you, Jake sent you a smile. “Don’t worry, we’ll be quick.”
Without another word, you followed as Jake made his way through the different aisles, picking up snacks that you easily recognized as some of your favourites. Even grabbing a heat pack, he waved it at you teasingly. “Weirdo, needing a heat pack in the middle of August.”
You sputtered, “Wha— I never asked you to—”
Interrupting you with a bark of a laugh, he shook his head. “Just poking fun. C’mon, let’s go. Lemon’s probably waiting for us.” You huffed but didn’t argue as he pulled you to the front cashier by the hand. You trained your sight on your connected hands, moving them so your fingers interlaced. Jake briefly looked down at what you’d done, but if it bothered him, he didn’t say anything.
“Oh, it’s you!”
To both your surprise and Jake’s, the cashier’s eyes lit up when he saw you. “We had English together,” he filled in when you didn’t seem to recognize him. “We were in a group project together for the final?” You blinked a few times before making a noise of recognition.
“Riki! Sorry, I didn’t recognize you with the new hair,” you explained, glancing at his newly dark brown hair. “It was blond before. Looks good now, though!” You gave him a thumbs up. Before he could reply beside you, Jake cleared his throat. Both you and Riki looked at him, realizing that the latter hadn’t even started ringing your items through, and there was a bit of a line behind you.
Riki immediately started scanning the snacks Jake had brought, never taking his eyes off you. “What’re you up to this summer? I haven’t seen you at all since the semester ended.”
You hummed, “My cousin’s wedding is in two weeks, so Jake and I—” You nudged him, not noticing how quiet he had gotten. “—are driving back to Seoul right after this.”
The younger boy nodded, glancing over at Jake before looking down at your hands. You forgot they were still intertwined, but Jake's grip tightened when you went to let go. You dropped your head to hide how warm your cheeks felt, biting your lip lightly. “Ah,” Riki put down the scanning gun, his tone noticeably less happy. “₩9000, please.”
Jake threw a few crumpled notes on the counter before bowing his head slightly in goodbye, tugging you toward the exit wordlessly. You waved at Riki over your shoulder before walking quickly to fall in step with Jake. “You okay? You were quiet in there, and then you pulled us out like that.”
Jake only nodded, carelessly tossing the bag of snacks into the back with your luggage. “Here,” he tossed you the heat pack, already cracked and warming up. He opened your door again without further explanation before taking his own seat.
You stared at his profile in confusion, the heat pack already doing its job on your frigid hands. As he pulled back onto the road, you glanced at his hand, which rested over the middle console as it had before.
Curiously, you turned his wrist until his palm was facing upward. Jake watched you from the corner of his eye, only turning his head when he reached a red light. He hadn’t expected you to put your hand in his, interlocking your fingers once again. “Your hands are warmer,” you mumbled, leaning back to get comfortable. In shock, Jake hadn’t taken his eyes off of you.
Smiling tightly at him, you squeezed his hand. “The light’s green.”
Snapping his head forward, he coughed as he focused on the road. For the next while, your hand would stay in his. The ride to the next town was spent in silence, with you mouthing the lyrics to songs you recognized from his playlists. 
In Jake’s phone, he had written that you were to stay at motels in towns along the way. When you protested at the cost it would be, he simply argued with it’s for the experience, sweets. And no worries! I’m paying for the whole trip. And when you argued with that last bit, he only replied, if I see your wallet at all, I might have to fight you.
Your first real stop was in a small fishing village, the last coastal town you’d see before you started driving inland. The morning chill was gone, replaced with the comforting warmth of the summer sun. Despite that, you didn’t let go of Jake’s hand until you had to get out of the car. Stretching your limbs, you groaned when you felt and heard some joints pop. 
You inhaled deeply, closing your eyes as you took in the smell of the ocean and the distant chatter of nearby townspeople. The motel Jake brought you to was a little rundown; it was obvious that it had been around for quite some time. The paint was peeling a bit, and the shingles on the roof made it look dated, but it had a cozy feel to it. Besides, it was the only dog-friendly motel in the area, so you couldn’t afford to be choosy.
“Hello,” the old woman at the receptionist's desk greeted you kindly, eyes shifting from you to Jake. You smiled at her, bowing your head in respect. Besides you, Jake did the same with that easygoing grin of his. “How may I help you?”
“A room for two, please,” said Jake.
The woman nodded, looking over at the remaining room keys. Grabbing one, she handed it over to you before telling Jake how much it’d cost. As Jake fumbled with his wallet, the old woman looked at you fondly. “You two are precious,” she informed you with an air of nostalgia, her wrinkled hand resting atop her chest over her heart. “I remember when me and my late husband were your age.”
You blushed at her insinuation that you and Jake were together but found that the idea wasn’t as jarring as you thought it’d be. You couldn’t tell if Jake didn’t catch the comment or chose not to reply as he handed her the money she needed. 
It wasn’t hard to find your room out of the ten total, and you were pleased to see that the coziness of the outside continued inside. Jake wheeled your luggage in while you opened Lemon’s carrier, letting her roam free in the room, sniffing the foreign air. The room itself wasn’t too big, consisting of the main room that could only fit a single queen bed and not much else and a bathroom that was longer than it was wide. 
“It’s like we’re teens again,” you giggled at Jake, shrugging off your jacket. “We’re sharing beds often.”
Jake let out a breath at the realization that there really was only one bed again and nodded stiffly. He supposed that was his fault for not mentioning how many beds you needed. “I guess so,” he gazed at you tenderly. “You sure you don’t mind?”
You rolled your eyes at him, “You can cut the gentleman act with me, Jake. If I minded, I would’ve said something already. We shared a bed in my apartment, remember?”
Of course I remember, he thought, it was driving me crazy.
In truth, Jake hasn’t been able to sleep because of how cuddly you were in your sleep. He’d purposely lay as far as he could from you so as not to give in to any temptations, but it seemed like you had other plans whenever you laid your head to rest. Not two minutes after he’d heard your soft snores, your hands were reaching for him, pulling you closer to his torso until you were snuggled up against him. 
He may have only been staying with you for two days, but he’s had to take just as many cold showers before you woke up.
“Do you wanna go on a walk?” you asked once the two of you settled. Lemon sat by your feet, circling them by looping under the chair you sat on to entertain herself. “It’d be nice to venture out! I think poor Lemon’s a bit restless from the carrier.” You bent over to rub behind her ears, to which she let out a yip of approval.
Jake smiled softly at the sight before nodding. “Let’s go, then.”
Thankfully, Lemon was an off-leash dog and stayed close by as you walked the streets of an unfamiliar town. In the distance, seagulls cried out to each other as fishing boats pushed off from the harbour. The sound of the sea lulled you into a peaceful reverie. You and Jake walked side by side, fingers brushing against each other every so often.
“It’s nice here,” you mumbled, “we should have done this sooner.”
Jake hummed, the low noise rattling in your ears. You closed your eyes as you walked, fully trusting Jake to guide you if you were going to walk into anything. He smiled softly at the sight of your relaxed demeanour, moving to hold your hand. You walked in silence for a bit before you reached the shore. Jake spotted some beach chairs, pulling you along. Lemon bounded ahead, happy to have room to run. You cracked open your eyes in time to see her jump into the water, barking happily as she entertained herself.
“Next time, you should bring Layla,” you suggested as you sat down. 
Jake smiled down at your hands. “Yeah, next time.”
Silence fell upon you, but it wasn’t unwelcome. You both watched Lemon as she played in the water, occasionally coming up to bring you a rock she had found before hopping back into the puddles the tide was creating. All the while, your hands stayed clasped, with Jakes's thumb rubbing familiar circles on the back of your palm.
“Why did you move so far?”
You halted, your smile slipping. “You asked me already.”
“But you weren’t being completely truthful with me.” He looked at you, concern shining in his eyes. “You’re not over it, are you?”
The topic dampened your mood, your heart rate rising as you avoided eye contact. “I told you already, Jake. I don’t love Heeseung anymore. I’m fine,” you pressed, lying through your teeth. Lying to Jake always left a bitter taste in your mouth, as you knew he could tell immediately that it wasn’t the truth. “What kind of cousin would I be if I were still in love with her groom-to-be?”
Jake’s frown deepened. “You have the right to be hurt—”
“But I’m not! So drop it.” Your outburst garnered the attention of a few townspeople who were out and about, causing you to flush in embarrassment. Lowering your voice, you stared down at the rocky beach, digging your dirtied trainers into the course sand. “I’m fine.”
Unbelieving, Jake continued, “It’s just… I thought you had enough reason to stay.”
His words made you look up, annoyed at how much he was pressing the topic on you. “Clearly, I didn’t.” Shaking your head, you dropped his hand before standing to your feet and dusting off imaginary dirt from your pants. You looked down at him, a mistake as you were forced to look at his hurt expression, lip trembling as he stared up at you open-mouthed. “I’m going back.”
He only watched your back as you walked away, beckoning Lemon to follow. The poor puppy got out of the water, shaking off the excess. She ran toward you but paused and looked back at Jake. She tilted her head as if she were asking Aren’t you coming? before running after you.
He didn’t know how long he sat there, shellshocked, until he realized that the sun was starting to set. Deciding he had been out there long enough, Jake slowly made his way back to the motel. When he got to your room, he hesitated, knowing that you could easily lock him out for the night if you were still upset with him since you had the only key.
Jake stood there, mulling over whether or not he should try knocking, but before he could even decide, the door opened. He was met with you, tear-stained cheeks and bloodshot eyes. “Don’t just stand there,” you opened the door more for him to come in. His heart broke at the sight of you and at how wet your voice sounded, as if you had just finished crying.
“Sweets, I’m sorry—” 
You shook your head, holding up a hand to stop him. “No, you did… you did nothing wrong. I shouldn’t have exploded at you like that or left you alone out there.” You looked down in shame, gnawing at your bottom lip. “I’m sorry, Jake.”
He was quick to lift your chin with two fingers, keeping them there as he rested his other hand on your upper arm. “Hey, no, none of that. I shouldn’t have pushed you when you obviously didn’t want to talk about it.” He pushed your hair behind your ear before bringing you in for a hug. You wrapped your arms around him, burying your head in his shoulder. He kissed the top of your head before muttering in your ear, “I’m sorry, sweets. I promise I won’t ask about it until you tell me you’re ready.”
You let go of the hug, but Jake kept you close in his arms. Looking into his eyes with welled-up tears, you pouted slightly, bringing his gaze downward. “You’re sure you’re not upset with me?”
“With you, never, sweets.”
You opened your mouth but closed it before you could say anything. Hugging him again, your voice came out muffled. “Wanna sleep.”
Jake chuckled at you, dropping his head in disbelief. “Okay.”
Not long after, you were both situated in bed, with Lemon lying at your feet like usual. As he had for nights before, Jake kept his distance, but you quickly changed that. For the first time, you cuddled up to him while you were awake, fully aware of your actions. Jake’s breath halted as he felt you nuzzle your face into the soft fabric of his tee, which smelt so strongly of him that it was all you could smell. “I love you,” you whispered into his skin, sending his brain into a frenzy. “You’re the bestest friend I could’ve ever asked for.”
Jake could practically hear the record screech in his head, gritting his teeth a bit before relaxing his jaw to leave another soft kiss against your temple. “I love you too, sweets.”
The day had exhausted him more than he’d realized. For the first time in two days, Jake found himself falling asleep right after you, holding you tightly against his chest.
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You awoke to the feeling of something warm attached to your neck. A quiet moan escaped your lips when the something bit down. You felt large hands explore the expanse of your side, your sleeping shirt pushed far up. Something hard poked against your thigh as you angled your head upward.
Your eyes fluttered open as you realized it was Jake, groaning as he nipped at your skin, leaving behind blossoms of red and purple. You moved your hips closer to his, gasping when his growing hard-on made contact with your clothed sex. “Fuck, baby, you don’t know what you do to me,” he uttered, his deep voice going straight to your groin. Your panties, you were sure, were already soaked with your slick.
“Please,” you whined as he bit down harder, and his hand roamed higher, tracing the curve of the underside of your breast with his fingers. His mouth felt oh-so-hot on your skin, and his teasing touch did little to alleviate it. “Show me, Jake. Show me what I do to you.”
He pulled back, ignoring the noise of disappointment you made. His eyes looked impossibly dark as he hovered over you, chest heaving. “Be careful what you wish for, pretty girl.” He easily flipped you onto your back, slotting himself between your legs. You moaned loudly when he ground his hips against yours, allowing you to feel just how hard he’d gotten. 
His lips met yours in a hungry kiss, tongue forcing itself past your lips to lick into your mouth. His hands moved wildly, pushing your shirt up until your breasts were fully uncovered, nipples pebbling in exposure to the cold air. “So beautiful,” he groaned into your ear as one hand kneaded your left breast. “Fuck, gonna make you mine, yeah? You want that?”
“Yes!” You exclaimed pathetically, a sob of need ripping through your throat as his free hand made its way to your shorts. “Please, Jake, need you so badly.”
He groaned again, pushing past the elastic waistband and guiding his fingers into your soaked panties. He moved down to collect your wetness and…
You breathed in harshly when you woke up, your heart racing faster than it ever had before. You blinked a few times to adjust to the darkness of the room, remembering where you were. Your chest heaved as you tried to calm yourself down, your face burning. Oh my god, you thought in slight mortification.
Jake’s arm rested over your middle, you realized, as he spooned you from behind. Your startle hadn’t woken him, his soft snores sounding in your ear canals. You were relieved that he wasn’t awake to ask why you woke up so violently because how were you to explain that it was because you were having a wet dream about him?
The dull feeling of disappointment had settled into your gut from having been interrupted before the dream could get good, a feeling that came with shame at how indisputable your horniness was. You’d never dreamed of Jake in such a light, but now you were worried that you wouldn’t be able to rid yourself of the sight of his eyebrows scrunching together in pleasure as he ground against you—
No. You need to stop.
Turning your head to groan into the pillow, you became hyper-aware of how wet you were, your panties sticking uncomfortably to your pussy. You pressed your legs together, silently willing the pulsing of your clit to calm down and let you fall asleep again. If you fall asleep, you might forget about this in the morning.
“Stop moving,” Jake’s tired voice scared you, making you jump. He used his arm to pull you closer against him, your hand against your mouth to stop yourself from making any noise. Not long after, you heard his deep breaths again, signalling that he’d fallen asleep. 
Fuck, you were screwed. You closed your eyes tightly, but all you could think about was how firm and warm he felt. Pressed against him like this, you could almost feel everything. From his tone chest and legs to his soft length, pressing against your backside. His gray sweats and your flimsy shorts barely acted as a barrier between you. Stretching your legs out, you realize that Lemon had hopped off the bed at some point, likely to sleep in her carrier.
Without thinking, your shaky hand made its way down your front, actively avoiding his arm. You bit your lip harshly as you slipped a finger underneath your shorts, listening carefully to ensure he wasn’t awake. This is crazy, you have never thought of doing something so indecent in front of Jake, but the idea was sending you into a frenzy. 
You fingertip made contact with your slit, and you had to stop yourself from moaning aloud at just how wet you were. Slowly, you rubbed circles around your clit, jolting slightly at the initial contact. Maybe it was from the dream or the fact that Jake was right there, but you felt more sensitive than usual, holding in whimpers with every movement.
“F-fuck,” you accidentally let out, screwing your eyes shut as you moved your hand faster. In the quiet stillness of the night, you could hear your slick with every flick of your wrist. If Jake woke up, there’d be no question to what you were doing, but the thought only spurred you on more.
Using your other hand to grope yourself over your shirt, you teased your entrance, easily inserting a finger. It wasn’t enough, your finger failing to fill you up how you know Jake’s would, a thought that forced out a rather loud moan.
Realizing how loud you were, you paused and listened to his breathing. Before you could even register that his breaths weren’t as deep as they were before, his arm tightened around you.
“Naughty fucking girl,” he hissed into your ear, pulling your hand out of your panties. You didn’t have time to feel humiliated before he rolled you onto your back, his thighs pressing into your waist as he sat on top of you. The look he gave you was just like the one he had in your dream, eyes dark and pupils full-blown, eyebrows furrowed together in desperate need.
“Touching yourself like that while my arm’s around you,” he spat, leaning until he was mere inches away from your face. “Thinking I wouldn’t wake up. Needed me that badly, yeah?”
It was clear that you were shocked, wide-eyed and jaw agape. Not once in your lifetime of friendship with Jake had you seen this feral side to him. You felt his hardening length when he pressed his hips down and groaned. “Come on, sweets. I know you’re smarter than that. You can answer me with words like a big girl.”
You smacked your lips together in disbelief before nodding slowly. “Yeah,” you stuttered. “Need you so bad, Jake.” Your own words surprised you, his boldness rubbing off on you. “Dreamt of you,” you confessed.
Jake raised a brow at you, laying his hand flat on your side. “Yeah? Was I touching you,” he used his hand to push up your shirt, moving faster than his dream counterpart had and groping at your breast, flicking his thumb over the hardening bud. “Like this?”
Nodding fervently, you bit your lip to hold in your moans as he handled you. He clicked his tongue using his other hand to pull at your bottom lip until it was released from your teeth. “Wanna hear you, princess. You had no problem moaning while I was asleep. Unfair to hide them in front of me now, isn’t it?”
He bent down to take your other nipple in his hot mouth, his searing tongue darting out to circle the sensitive bud. His eyes never left yours, watching your expressions as you arched your back to his ministrations. He let go of your nipple, only to blow cold air on it, making you whimper. “What else did I do, pretty?” He asked, pinching and rolling your nipple between his fingers. “Did I make you feel good?”
“Fuck,” you cried when he thrust his hips against you, giving you a hint as to what was to come. “Made me feel so good, Jake.” You threw your head back as he continued, shallowly thrusting against your clothed core. You weakly pointed at your neck. “Kissed me here,” you sighed when he leaned forward to leave kitten licks against your neck, nipping gently at the skin. “And…”
He bit down on the skin under your ear, using his tongue to soothe the mark before kissing up to your earlobe. “And?” His deep voice resonated within you, making you shiver.
“And then you…” You trailed off, instead opting to run a hand down your front to the waistband of your shorts, not missing the way his eyes followed. “Touched me here.” Tapping over your clothed clit, you avoided his gaze out of shyness, still in disbelief of this situation. “Then I woke up.” Your voice was weak, doused in lust and need for the man in front of you.
He smirked at you, moving back so he could pull your shorts off, leaving you in your oversized tee—an old shirt of his he’d given you before you moved—and your soaked baby blue panties. Even in the dark, he could see how wet you were, the thought making him groan as he palmed himself over his sweats at the sight of you. 
“Poor baby,” he sighed, though you heard no actual sympathy in his tone. “Couldn’t get off in your dream, so you touched yourself like a whore in front of me.” You squirmed at his vulgarity, his words sending shockwaves to your clenching pussy. Shifting his body down the bed so he was laying between your thighs, he left kisses up and down the sensitive skin there. His tongue traced a line from your knee up to where you truly wanted him before stopping right before your panties. His mouth wrapped around your skin as he bit down, hard enough to sting but not hard enough to really hurt.
When he pulled away, a dark hickey had formed. “Shit,” he groaned, “God, I love marking you up.” He looked back up at you, resting on your elbows so you could watch him. “Gonna leave marks all over, yeah? Then you’ll know who made you feel good, pretty girl.”
Mindlessly, you nodded, wanting him to do anything he wanted with you. His every word made you feel impossibly wet, almost embarrassingly so.
Without missing a beat, he kissed your clit over your panties, making you whimper as you thrust your hips up toward his face. “Patience, baby,” he mumbled, tonguing you through the thin fabric of your underwear. “Gonna make you feel good.” Using his teeth, he pulled your panties down, your slick stringing along as he got them to your knees before using his hands to pull them off completely. 
The sight of your exposed cunt, wet and clenching around nothing, made Jake crazy. “I’ve wanted this for so long,” he admitted with a groan before he dove into your pussy, licking up your slick. He drew figure-eights over your clit before closing his lips around it and sucking, making you cry out. You felt his long fingers poke at your entrance, the stimulation leaving you a mess of moans and whimpers.
When two of his fingers pushed past your entrance, you both groaned at the feeling of him sliding inside your gummy walls. His tongue worked at your clit as he slowly scissored his fingers inside you, all while watching your reactions. “So hot,” you gasped, clawing at the bed sheets. “Fuck, Jake, gonna…” You cut yourself off, moaning loudly, when he started moving his fingers faster.
“Cum for me, sweets.” His demand seemingly made you snap as you came around his fingers in an instant. He closed his eyes as his jaw dropped in a groan, relishing the feeling of you clenching tightly around his fingers. He slowly took them out, biting his lip at how wet you were. The whine you let out once you were empty would live in his mind for the rest of his days, he decided, as he moved up the bed to come eye to eye with you.
You watched as he sucked his fingers clean of your wetness before leaning in and kissing you harshly. The taste of him mixed with your juices made you moan, grabbing at the fabric of his shirt tightly. He bit your bottom lip, pulling at it slightly before kissing you deeply once more. Your lips slotted together with ease, like two puzzle pieces.
He felt your hand travel down his stomach to the strings of his sweatpants, leaning back to watch as you undid the knot before pulling them down in a swift motion. He sat up to kick the garment off, before returning to his spot between your thighs. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him, hunger in your gaze as you inspected his cock, hard against his stomach. It was red, needy and weeping, one pronounced vein running along his shaft. More importantly, he was thick—thicker than any toys you had bought on a whim.
When you looked up at him, he must’ve caught your fear as he cupped your face in his warm palm. Kissing you gently, he brushed your hair back. “We don’t need to go any further if you don’t want us to,” he assured you, even though the hardness of his length said otherwise. “We’ll only go as far as you want to.”
You bit your lip, “Then…” Without another word, you closed a fist around his shaft, watching his eyes widen. “I want to make you feel good, too,” you whispered. You collected some of his precum, using it to glide your hand up and down at a torturous pace, your eyes never leaving his face.
“Fuck, baby,” he groaned, shoving his face in the crook of your neck. You felt his hot breaths fan over your skin, leaving goosebumps, and he moaned in your ear. His arms were braced on either side of your head, his scent invading your senses as you touched him. “Doing so well for me,” he hushed, kissing at your neck. He nudged your jawline with his nose, sucking down on your jugular. “Shit,” his hips stuttered, thrusting up into your grasp. “Go faster for me, yeah?”
You nodded, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as you picked up speed. Using your other hand to grasp his balls, you delighted in the way he groaned a little louder, your name slipping from his lips wantonly. Leaning forward, you bit down on his shoulder, flicking your tongue out just as he had before. With your lips on him, he moaned your name once more, fucking up into your hand with reckless abandon. He swore lowly as his hips stilled, ropes of thick cum spilling from his cock and onto your hands and shirt.
He stayed there momentarily, catching his breath before hovering a bit higher to watch you. Inspecting your hand, you brought it to your lips. His eyes never left your tongue as he watched it dart out to catch any drops of his seed. “You don’t know what you’re doing to me,” he sighed once you finished, wiping off any remains on your soiled tee. He pulled the tee over your head before giving you his own, still warm from being worn. 
“Go to sleep, sweets,” he mumbled against your temple as he settled in next to you. “We’ll talk in the morning, yeah?”
Your morning talk ended up with his tongue between your thighs in the shower as you struggled to keep yourself up, one leg over his shoulder. You were sure the people in the rooms next to you could hear your cries when you came on his tongue for the nth time, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. 
Once he thought you had cum an adequate amount of times, he carefully set you down, massaging your aching thighs as he kissed you gently. Pulling away, he leaned his forehead against yours, eyes still closed. Taking the opportunity, you pecked his lips before reaching for the body wash, giggling.
You never ended up talking about it, getting distracted by Lemon, who whined at the door when you finally came out of the bathroom. 
The rest of the road trip went similarly. You’d hold hands as he drove to your next destination, and then you’d get each other off in your motel rooms until the motel owners eventually kicked you out for disturbances. Between towns, you’d talk as if he wasn’t just knuckles deep in your heat or as if you didn’t just have his cock shoved down your throat as he fucked your face.
Words that needed to be spoken never were. Your fearful thoughts kept you from initiating the conversation that could very well destroy years of friendship with Jake.
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ONE DAY.
Finally, you had made it to Seoul. Unfortunately, a flat tire in the middle of nowhere stopped you from getting there two days before, as Chaewon wanted. Luckily, nothing did go wrong and everything seemed to be ready for tomorrow.
Tired from the long trip, both emotionally and physically, Jake offered his house for you to stay at. Without thinking, you said yes. You took his keys and unlocked the door as Jake grabbed your things from the car, Lemon pushing past your feet and into the house, eager to explore.
As she made her way around, her nails against the hardwood floor indicating where she was, you and Jake pushed your luggage into the living room before collapsing onto the couch.
“I’m so happy to be home,” he sighed, stretching his limbs. “As fun as road trips are, nothing beats sleeping in your own bed.” Glancing over at you, a million thoughts raced in his mind, but he pushed them away. He wanted to talk about what you were, the frequent hookups making his brain mush. But he could read you—he always could. You’ve always been so emotive that you made it easy, but he had your habits memorized. He knew exactly when you didn’t want to do something and that you weren’t ready for talking.
So he didn’t say anything, even though he knew it might hurt him in the long run.
Unlike your apartment or the many motels you stayed at over your trip, Jake actually had two beds. The thought of sleeping in separate rooms felt so foreign, but he told you anyway. You hummed, “Maybe I should sleep in the guest room then.” You grinned at him, “You’re probably tired of having to share a bed with me by now.”
Never, he thought.
That night, he lay in his too-empty bed, restless. Knowing you were in the same house, with only a thin wall separating you, was driving him mad. Not having you next to him, curled up against his side, drove him mad. His hand clenched around the bedsheets, where you would’ve been if you had taken up his silent plea to sleep in the same room as him.
In that moment, Jake realizes just how screwed he really is. Covering his eyes with his forearm, he quietly swore into the empty room, his heart aching. Jake had gotten so used to being so close to you, to have you by his side as he pleasured you, your high-pitched cries echoing in his ears. He knew it wouldn’t last forever and that he’d have to drive you home a few days after the wedding. Then, he didn’t know how long it’d be until he saw you again.
He wonders if everything that happened will get brushed under the rug. God, he hoped not. 
Just as he decided he’d need some sleep for the wedding tomorrow, he heard something through the wall. He held his breath, straining his ears to hear the noise's source. Before long, he realized it was you, your short breaths easily passing through the wall, the sound of your slick ringing clear as day to him.
Without another thought, he ripped off his blanket and made his way to the guest room. To his surprise, you hadn’t even closed your door, his eyes blessed with the sight of you atop the bed. Neither the blankets nor the sheets were disturbed, making it clear that you hadn’t even gotten comfortable before you started. He watched in a daze as your fingers plunged in and out of your hole, your face contorted into one of drunken pleasure.
He felt himself grow hard as he stepped closer. You whimpered out his name as you rubbed harsh circles over your clit, and something inside Jake snapped.
“You must love fucking torturing me,” he rasped, roughly pulling your fingers out of your pussy and pinning your hands to the bed, leaving your body fully exposed to him. “Always touching yourself in front of me like a slut. You knew what you were doing, leaving your door open.” When you turned your head away in feigned humiliation, he used his free hand to forcibly turn your cheek. His nails dug into your jaw as he forced you to look at him.
“Do you know how crazy you make me feel?” He asked, but he narrowed his eyes at you when you went to answer. “Do you know how fucking long I’ve wanted to see you like this? Needy and begging for my cock?” His words shut up, the implication of something more making your heart race.
“Do you know how hard it’s been for me to stop myself from making you mine every night we’re together?” He growled, letting go of your hands to push your legs up against your chest. “Do you know how hard it is to refrain from kissing you every time you look at me with that look in your eye?”
Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pulled him in for a kiss, your lips meeting in a fight for dominance. His hands pushed you deeper against the bed as he pressed himself against you. His patience was wearing thin as he pulled away, only to pull off his shirt before he leaned in again. Your lips, your taste—all of you was addicting to Jake.
“Jake,” you moaned out when he attacked your neck, adding to the healing bruises from before. “‘M ready now. Please, please, make me yours,” you begged, spreading your legs wider for emphasis.
If he wasn’t hard before, he was now at your plea, a growl stuck at the back of his throat at the thought of fucking you like how he’s wanted to. “You sure, princess?” he asked, leaning back to look you in the eye.
“I’ve never been more sure,” you gasped, eyes darting from his left to right. “I’m sorry I kept you waiting.”
Jake only shook his head, pulling you in for another deep kiss. Jake swallowed your moans, a feeling of possessiveness taking over him as he fondled your breasts. “All mine,” he hissed, “you’re mine.”
He made quick work of his sleep shorts, the garment getting thrown across the room into some corner to be found in the morning. His cock was pretty as ever, and your hands instinctively went to grab at it. “Next time, baby,” he rasped, “Need to take you now.”
You cried out when you felt the tip of his length nudge against your folds, collecting your juices as he ran his cock up and down your cunt. A broken whimper of his name ripped through your throat when he bumped your clit, his own deep moan shaking in his chest. He felt like he was losing his mind, the warmth of your pussy felt so good against his shaft, and he hadn’t even entered you yet.
You felt him line himself up at your entrance, and you tensed. Noticing, Jake left gentle kisses against your shoulder. “I’ll take care of you, pretty, just lay back, yeah?”
You nodded but felt hot tears well up in your eyes as he pushed past your entrance, a stinging burn erupting between your legs. He moved slowly, but inch by inch, the burn became more intense. “It’ll hurt more when you’re this tense, baby,” he whispered, massaging your right breast in hopes of distracting you. His lips met yours in a kiss more gentle than any that preceded it. Screwing your eyes shut, tears beaded at the corners of your eyes before they fell, disappearing into your hairline. He kissed your temple when he finally bottomed out after what felt like years. “Doing so well for me, sweets.”
He stilled for a few minutes despite wanting nothing more but to drill into you. Leaving kisses all over your face and neck, he observed as your face relaxed more and more. “You can move now,” you whispered, out of breath.
“Yeah? Trust me?”
“Mhm,” you closed your eyes—the sting had disappeared, and now you just felt stuffed. “I trust you, Jake.”
Your admittance made his head spin as he dropped his head onto your shoulder. Slowly, he pulled out until just the tip was inside before thrusting into you. A low moan rumbled in your chest as Jake sucked at your neck. He repeated the motion, rocking into you slowly until you got used to it.
After a while, the pain turned to pleasure as you clenched around him, making him gasp against your skin. “Faster, please,” you begged, linking your ankles around his back. “Need you.”
Just as you asked, Jake upped his pace, moving steadily. He sat back gripping your waist as he thrust into you. He watched for your reactions, eyes darting from your scrunched up face to the bouncing of your breasts down to the jiggle of your thighs with each thrust. His speed picked up until he was pistoling into you, broken moans pushing past your lips as his hips slapped against yours.
The sound of your wetness was so obscene, if you were in a normal state of mind you would’ve been embarrassed. But the drag of his cock against your walls and the way his pelvic bone grazed your clit every time he bottomed out was deliciously addicting.  “Feels so fucking good,” Jake moaned, “you’re gripping me so tightly—fuck!—gonna make me cum, princess.” Falling forward, he braced himself on one arm, reaching for your puffy clit with the other. He rubbed fast cirlces on your clit as he pounded into you, the sound of skin against skin turning you on more. You willed yourself to keep your eyes open, to bask in the sight of Jake slowly losing control of his movements as he got closer to his own release.
The sight of him hunched over you, eyes glassy as he furrowed his brows in concentration, beads of sweat dripping from his hairline, causing his blond hair to stick to his forehead, was so fucking hot. You gripped at his arms, muscles bulging as he struggled to keep himself up.
You felt an orgasm fast approaching, your own whines coming out higher and higher. “Fu—ck, Jake,” you swore, “I’m so close, please, I—”
At your words, Jake’s hips moved faster, hitting the spot that made you see stars over and over again. “You look so beautiful like this,” he uttered breathlessly. “Fuck, I love you.” The words spilled from his lips unintentionally, the way your walls clenched around him knocked any sense of thought out of him, his only coherent thought being to make you cream around his cock.
His words echoed in your brain as you came with a cry of his name. The feeling of you cumming sent Jake into overdrive as he pistoned into you, overstimulating you as he chased his release. After a moment, he stilled, coming inside of your cavern. You felt his release paint your walls white, bringing you into a second orgasm.
He stayed inside you for a while, hovering over your tired body as he caught his breath. Eventually, he pulled out, his cum spilling from your clenching hole, making him sigh in pleasure at the sight. He kissed your temple before moving to get off the bed. You watched, spent, as he searched for his shirt in the dark, the hallway light dimly illuminating the room. For a second, you were scared that he was just going to go back to his own room, but after he found the shirt, he came back to your side. Wordlessly, he wiped you clean, even wiping at the beads of sweat that accumulated on your skin.
Tired, he let himself collapse beside you, pulling you against his chest.
“Did you mean it?” you asked in a small voice.
“Hmm?”
“When… When you said you loved me.”
You felt him tense under you for a second before relaxing. His arms held you tighter against his chest, letting you listen to his rapid heartbeat.
“Yeah.” He paused, the cogs in his brain turning as he searched for the right words to say. Nothing he came up with seemed right; he opted to stay silent and waited for your response. When it didn’t come, he looked down at you, only to be met with your sleeping face. He sighed, his breath shaky as his eyes burned. He pressed a single kiss on the crown of your head. “Good night, sweets.”
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THREE HOURS.
Chaewon had been spamming your phone, the distinct buzzing of each message waking you up. Jake slept through the sound of you typing, exhausted from the night before.
Where are you???? Get your ass here NOW before I come and get you myself
Are you even awake? 
Girl, if you’re not here in the next hour I’ll punt you into the next century
Swearing, you carefully slipped out of Jake’s grasp. When he didn’t stir, you shook him gently. He mumbled incoherently, wrapping his arms around your middle as he deeply inhaled your scent. “Jake, we gotta’ wake up now. Chaewon’s having a cow and I don’t think we want to upset the bride today.”
At your words, Jake murmured something you couldn’t hear before finally peeling himself off you, looking at you with sleepy eyes and messy hair. “Wha’ time isit?” he slurred, stretching his arm.
“It’s twelve, so we have to go. Like, now.”
Thankfully, that seemed to wake Jake up, and he sat up quickly. “Damn, okay,” he pushed his hair back. “Get changed and everything, and I’ll meet you at the door.”
You watched as he leaped off the bed, picking up his soiled clothes from the floor. He made his way to his own room, and you heard the shower turn on. In the time it took for you to brush your teeth and get changed, Jake had showered and hastily shoved on some comfy clothes, his attire being left with Heeseung as well.
The drive to the hotel where the bridal and groom's parties were getting ready was quiet, partially from sleepiness and partially because of the unfinished conversation from last night, filling the air with thick tension. His hand rested on the middle console, palm up, but you didn’t take it.
When you got to the hotel, you were quickly ushered to your respective rooms by other bridesmaids and groomsmen. Jake could only watch as you disappeared behind a room door before getting shoved into one himself.
He didn’t see you again until later, when the wedding was about to start, and the pairs were meant to walk down the aisle. Since you were Chaewon’s maid of honour and Jake was Heeseung’s best man, you were paired together. When you finally saw him, you felt the air leave your lungs. His hair was styled so it was out of his face, save for a few strands that hooked over his forehead. His suit was entirely dark blue, from his blazer to his tie, and it made him look unfairly handsome.
Your mouth felt dry as you linked arms with him, listening for your cue to walk.
Unbeknownst to you, he felt similar. You looked stunning in your baby blue satin dress, and he thought it hugged your curves in such a way that he almost wanted to cover you up so only he could see you like this. His heart pounded in his chest at your touch. 
“You look beautiful,” he whispered as you waited, making the couples behind you snicker. You blushed, your face warming as you rubbed your lips together anxiously.
“As do you,” you mumbled, looking into his eyes shyly. “You look really good.”
He opened his mouth to say something else, but the doors opened up, and that was your cue. The venue was gorgeous, as expected since Chaewon planned most of it. The sight of the aisle and the altar made your heart soar for her, and you absentmindedly rubbed at your own ring finger the closer you and Jake got to the end of the aisle.
You sent him a smile before you retreated to your respective spots. As the rest of the couples and the flower girl made their way down the aisle, you couldn’t help but keep your eyes on Jake. You wondered how you looked, staring over at the best man when there were so many things you should’ve been paying attention to.
Clearing your throat, you looked forward.
When you finally saw Heeseung, your heart clenched. You fisted the fabric of your dress as you watched him wait for his bride-to-be. This motion didn’t go unseen by Jake, whose jaw clenched.
When Chaewon appeared from behind the door, the room erupted into cheers as everyone stood. Tears sprang to your eyes as you watched your cousin, veiled, take small steps closer to her future husband. You knew your makeup was going to be ruined by the end of the night, but you couldn’t help but cry once she reached Heeseung. You glanced at him once more before staring down at your heeled feet.
The rest of the ceremony went off without a hitch, Chaewon and Heeseung’s beautiful vows leaving everyone in tears. You had even caught Jake wiping away some stray tears. You watched with a sense of longing as Chaewon and Heeseung made their way down the aisle. You didn’t realize that Jake had been staring at you the whole time, not even when it was your turn to walk out.
The banquet was to start half an hour later. You and Jake had gotten separated in the commotion outside of the venue hall. You heard him call out to you, but you couldn’t see him over the large, bustling crowd of wedding guests. Knowing that you’d see him at the banquet, you slipped further into the crowd until you found a balcony. Peaking your head out, you let out a breath of relief when there was no one there.
The sun was setting, casting an orange hue over everything it touched. A beautiful sight, you thought as you leaned against the railing. You closed your eyes as you thought back on the wedding. It had been the exact wedding the Chaewon had planned years ago, but you couldn’t find it within yourself to be truly happy. How could you, after all, after watching Heeseung look at Chaewon with such love and adoration? 
When someone called your name, you turned around to see Jake standing there, slightly unkempt from the crowd. “I finally found you,” he heaved, gesturing back to the hall that was still full of busy wedding goers. “Man, the banquet is literally in the room over from the wedding hall—they couldn’t be a little more patient in moving over?” He shook his head in mock disbelief as he joined you.
He looked at you, ready to make a joke, but paused when he saw your face. His smile dropped as he turned to face you fully. “You’re crying,” he noted, cupping your cheek. You blinked in surprise, having not noticed how tears had welled up in your eyes. “What’s wrong, sweets?”
You turned around, pulling your face out of his grasp, wrapping your arms around yourself. “I don’t know,” you murmured, voice breaking. “I just… when I saw them—”
“Is it Heeseung?”
His cold, clipped tone shocked you. When you looked at him in confusion, his expression had hardened. “What—”
“Why does seeing him with her still hurt you? I thought you were fine,” his words were level, but you heard the slight tremble of his voice.”You said you moved on.” 
Sputtering, you turned to him with an indignant glare. “Jake, it’s not that easy—”
Scoffing, he took a step back from you. “So what? The last two weeks meant nothing to you? Last night meant nothing to you? I…” He gripped at his hair, stressed. “I told you I loved you, and you’re still crying over Heeseung?”
It dawned on you how he perceived your words, and an unsettling fear grabbed at you as you went to explain yourself. “What? Jake, no, I’m not—”
He gave you no room to speak, interrupting you hastily, words tumbling from his lips as though he had no control of them. “I have always loved you,” he confessed, voice breaking. “Ever since we were kids, for me, it’s always been you. I came to you because I love you. I spent these last two weeks with you because I love you, and I want nothing more than for you to see me as more than a best friend or… or someone who’s convenient for you.” You watched in horror as his eyes watered, stepping forward to grab his arm to explain, but he ripped his arm away from your grasp. “I can see now that you never will.”
“Jake, wait—!” Your cry fell on empty ears as he turned to leave you alone on the balcony, his back feeling unreachable as he reached for the doorknob to go back inside. At this point, the crowd in the hall had dispersed, and you were sure the banquet was starting. But none of that mattered—what mattered was stopping Jake from leaving before you could tell him the truth.
Swallowing your fears, you called out his full name. You sighed in relief when he paused, but your hands shook at your sides as you forced your next words out. “He made me feel like I was unlovable,” you uttered, voice just barely above a whisper. For a second, you were worried he hadn’t heard you, but he turned his head slightly. Finding the courage to continue, you stepped forward. “I’m not… I don’t love Heeseung, Jake. I haven’t loved Heeseung for a really fucking long time.”
But what happened between us gave me all of these terrible thoughts that I didn’t…. That I don’t know how to handle. I thought I was perfectly fine dealing with my insecurities on my own before you came.” He turn his head more, allowing you to see his profile. You saw him open his mouth, ready to retort, but you narrowed your eyes at him. “Sim Jaeyun, if you interrupt me again, I’ll kick your ass.” Your threat wasn’t all that threatening, considering the fact that you were near to tears, but he listened and shut his mouth.
“When you showed up at my apartment, I thought I was going mad. You made me feel like that. It was suddenly so different between us and I didn’t know what to do. You kept saying these things like you were trying to fluster me, and I couldn’t tell if you were being genuine or if my fucked up mind was just creating scenarios where you might actually love me.” Tears were freely falling now, smudging your eye makeup and leaving its trail in your foundation. You stepped closer to Jake, who had fully turned to face you. You stopped, leaving a few meters between you as if you were scared of crossing an invisible boundary.
“Last night was the best night of my life. And every time before that, you made me feel complete and made me so happy, Jake. You made me feel… normal. It felt like I was myself again for the first time in months, but there was something else there, too.” You looked into his eyes, unable to tell what he was thinking. You swallowed thickly, “I don’t love Heeseung, and you’re a fool if you think I do. But it’s so fucking hard to shake off the feeling that at any point you could find someone better, someone who’s prettier, or—”
Jake was quick to close the distance between you, his lips downturned into a scowl as he glowered at you. “Just shut up already,” he spat, cupping your face in his hands and bringing his lips to yours. You felt a thousand times lighter as you kissed him back with the same fervour as him, your tears mixing into the kiss. He dropped a hand to rest on your hip, bringing you flush against him. Once he pulled away, you were both breathless. He rested his forehead against yours as his shoulders rose and fell quickly.
When he finally opened his eyes, gone was the pain and hurt. Now, when he looked at you, he looked with adoring eyes. “I love you,” he whispered. “You might not believe me yet, but just know that whenever I look at you, all I see is the person I want to spend my life with. There isn’t anyone better or prettier—there’s only you.”
He met your eyes before kissing you again. 
You looked into his eyes once you pulled away, a thousand thoughts swirling behind your irises. “I love you,” you breathed out. You reached for his hand, interlocking your fingers together as you smiled tearfully at him. “Help me believe you.”
Jake laughed in disbelief, bringing you close to his chest.
“We have all the time in the world to get there, sweets.”
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