#HES READY FOR A SNOOZE | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

eupheme · 1 month

Text

— honey, honey

[part ii of sugar, sugar] | [part iii] | [masterlist]

wolverine/logan howlett x neighbor!f!reader

rated e - 5.2k

tags: asshole friend!wade, (sorta soft) roommate!logan, baker!neighbor!reader, flirting, mutual yearning, miscommunication, immature humor, wingman!wade, light angst, oral sex, spitting, fingering, unprotected PiV, begging, floor sex

Even after you wake up alone, and almost late for work, it doesn’t deter your interest in your neighbor - especially after the night you shared.

(Or - a miscommunication, and the following through of two late-night promises.)

You awake to the blare of Dolly Parton's '9 to 5'.

A time you wish your work schedule followed. Groggy with sleep as you reach for your phone, hitting snooze on your way-the-fuck-too-early alarm.

Collapsing back on your pillows, as the night before comes rushing back to you.

The party. Meeting Logan. Coming back to your apartment after.

An ache between your thighs that you definitely didn't have the morning before. Sitting up with a start, heart racing as your hand stretches out on the right side of the bed.

The sheets are cool, in-between the deep rips in the fabric.

You don't remember him leaving.

Had drifted off with an arm slung around your waist, one of the hardest sleeps of your life. Something inside you twists, leaving behind the sharp tang of disappointment.

It's not unusual, you suppose. You'd had your fair share of fuck-and-go's, and had even committed a few yourselves. But you thought last night had felt different.

There had been a connection, you were sure of it. The way he had touched you, kissed you-

You had just hoped...

The snoozed alarm goes off, and you catch the time. Forty-five minutes before than your usual alarm - the numbers shocking you into action.

Set earlier to accommodate a last minute change for a wedding - all of the cupcakes needing to be repackaged before the mother of the bride came at seven.

And you had volunteered, do-gooder that you were.

"Shit!” You hiss, scrambling out of bed. A whirlwind as you throw clothes on, banging into the bathroom to get ready.

Still muttering as you blow through the kitchen, snatching up your bag and keys.

"Why the fuck did I do that?" You grouse to yourself, skipping your usual morning coffee - you'll have to grab it on the way, "God, I'm fucking dumb, I always regret it."

The door slams behind you - as you rush down the steps, and out into the streets.

His claws unsheath with the bang of the door. Awakened from a dead sleep, his heartbeat jolting as he's thrown back into another life, in another world.

It takes him a full minute to come back down. His surroundings unfamiliar, the room still bathed in darkness.

A groan, when he remembers. The claws slipping back beneath, a sharp twinge as his skin knits back together.

It's too early for the late night he shared with you. Should have thought about you working in the morning, might have held back from the extra round the night before.

Had meant to wake up before you, slip back into bed as you dozed. You had dropped off in his arms the night before, lulled to sleep after he had coaxed two more orgasms from you, with the slow pump of his hips and circle of his fingers.

Dragging himself out to the couch once your breathing had gone steady. Tugging the homemade afghan off a nearby armchair, wrapping it around him as his eyes fixed on the door. Keeping watch, as he did next door.

Lulled to sleep, thinking about you. His eyes flutter shut for a moment now, the slightest pull of his lips at the memory.

Flinching again, when you barrel out of the bathroom. The light makes him squint - you haven’t seen him yet, as he pushes himself up on an elbow. Your name soft hush on his lips, until he hears your angry muttering.

"Why the fuck did I do that?"

"God I'm fucking dumb, I always regret it."

Your tone laced with anger, woven in with the sharp tang of remorse.

The realization is a douse of ice-cold water, rising away the last dregs of sleep. Leaving him staring at the door as you yank it shut behind you.

Scowling, as he pushes himself up.

Nearly ripping the denim as he tugs his jeans back on. Finding his white tank and discarded flannel in your room, right where he had stripped them off the night before.

His jaw works, replaying your words.

He should have known. Shouldn’t have listened to Wade. Shouldn’t have listened to you. Shouldn’t have let himself hope.

And for the second time, your door slams shut.

You think about Logan all morning, even as you put out fires at work.

The boxes exchanged - two-hundred and fifty rustic, individual cardboard carriers exchanged for sleek and shiny white ones, tied with a bow. The memory that runs through your mind even staves off your irritation at the last-minute work, a peppy smile and wave as you hand the boxes off.

The 'tied-up-in-knots' is a feeling that echoes in your belly. Your fondness for Wade is starting to come back, after the way you were ready to write him off for that absolute debacle of an introduction.

You'd been expecting something a little more... natural. Normal. A "hey, have you met my neighbor?" not one of the most embarrassing things you've had to live through with a near-stranger.

Maybe you should have known better.

But with the way the night ended, you can't bring yourself to be mad. Letting yourself get distracted as you replay the night, again - almost grabbing the wrong tube of icing as your mind wanders back.

Not only thinking about the way he felt - those wandering hands and how perfectly he fit inside you, how he had completely fucked your brains out - but him as well.

The conversations. The tiny crack you had made in his armor, the way he had shown you his claws. The drift of his fingers against your skin, when he had asked why you had gone to Wade.

You’re thankful you’re working in the back today, with the way your skin heats from chest to ears. Quiet mutterings to get it to together.

And as the afternoon finally starts to lull, you find yourself gathering ingredients.

It wouldn't take long to make something small. The recipe is one you know by heart.

Maybe you can drop it off tonight. Maybe it will erase whatever you did to drive him from your bed and back to his apartment in the middle of the night. Maybe it will be a nice way to let him know you’re thinking of him.

Vanilla, flour, powdered sugar. Fresh, sliced strawberries.

Maybe you have it bad.

The box is tucked under your arm when you knock on Wade’s door. It’s still early in the afternoon - the hallways bright, traffic buzzing outside.

You fidget with the strap of your dress - something breezy, but still a little cute. An attempt to look like you have it together with looking like you tried too hard - something easier said than done.

There’s a fluttering twitch behind your ribs when the door opens. That curl of hope squashed when it’s not Logan that answers, but Wade.

You’re quick to fix your expression, offering him a smile, “Morning! Late night?”

“Is it a late night if it’s still going?” A yawn, as he scratches at his ribs - fingers digging into the fabric of his cropped tee, “We’re four seasons deep into a Supermarket Sweep marathon. If I could go back in time again…”

The tv blares in the background, Al sitting in an armchair. The couch from the night before still sits empty, no sign of Logan.

Not that you’re checking.

“You’d… want to host?” You offer, eyebrows raising.

“God no. Can you imagine me in those sweaters? Way too much polyester.” He chuckles, “No, Blind Al and I would sweep. Pun intended.”

Your head tilts, nose scrunching.

“I see you make that face, but that woman knows every goddamn aisle.” Wade sighs fondly, before he’s jolting - eyes fixing on you, “But enough about the biggest regret in my life, how was your night?”

“Oh,” You manage, “It’s was good-”

“Just good?” He scoffs, “He gave you the greatest show and you’re saying it’s just good?”

A huff, muttered under his breath, ”Can’t remember the last time I took the skin boat to tuna town like that. Surprised you’re still walking.”

The noise you make is ugly - a broken groan. Embarrassment flooding with your nerves, cheeks heating, “If you must know, it was great. Lots of wholesome, adult conversation.”

“Uh huh. And a good, old-fashioned railing.” His tongue tucks against his teeth, “I get it! I’ve had him inside me too, it was quite the experience.”

That has you pausing. A beat, as curiosity wells in you, “You mean…?”

“Well, it was his claws,” Wade sighs wistfully, “But how different can it be?”

You huff.

“I don’t think that’s the same thing.”

His brow lifts, “It is, according to the internet.”

“Sure, Wade. The Internet.” Your eyes roll, as you shift - adjusting the box as it rests against your hip, “Speaking of though, is he, uh, home?”

Wade doesn’t hear you. His eyes have already dropped, just noticing what you’re carrying. A tilt of his head as he peers through the transparent film on top.

“What is that?” His finger pokes the box, and your eyes dip down

“It’s nothing,” You start - but you know he won’t let it drop, “Well, actually, it’s - I uh, made him a-”

The words peter out lamely, as you hold up the box. Wade’s teeth sink into the side of his lip, as he bites back a cackle.

“Did you seriously bake him a ‘thanks-for-the-sex’ cake?”

You blink, “No!”

A pause, as mortification wells in you.

“Oh my god,” It’s a whisper, as your hand drags across your face, “Oh my god, Wade. I baked him a sex cake.”

You shove at him as he laughs - his hands sneaking beneath your arm to wrestle the box away from you, “Mm, you’ve got it bad, girlfriend. This is pretty embarrassing, real hard to come back from.”

“There was context!” You insist, reaching for it, “Give that to me.”

Wade twists - pivoting away from you, “Oh ho, not a chance, Sugarplum.”

Your forearm presses into his chest as you lunge at him, but it’s all too easy for him to set the box on the cluttered end-table, barring you as he closes the door - trapping you both out in the hallway.

“He earned it, from what I heard,” He chuckles, “And are you really gonna take it away from him?”

You’re still mentally, and possibly physically, cringing. Leaning against the wall, while he blocks the door.

Wade is still grinning, a sigh as his arms cross,“God, I wish he was here.”

And for the first time all day, you’re glad he’s not. It had seemed like a sweet idea but you’re left feeling like an idiot now - already planning on trying to sneak back in and grab it when Wade isn’t looking.

“He’s not?” You’re fishing. Hook and bobber, a flick as you cast out your heart, fingers on the reel. Pathetic, perhaps, but you can’t resist, “You think he’ll be back tonight?”

“Ooh, the real reason you stopped by. I see how it is.” He sniffs, “But no, I’ve got no idea. Left this morning with Laura, something about a job.”

A beat, before he adds, “Which about time, bee tee dubs. Great face card, but Old Wadey here is about to go into overdraft.”

“Laura?” You parrot, without thinking. A frown creasing your brow, the slightest downturn of your lips.

He catches the expression immediately.

Wade smirks, “Ooh, you are looking so green, Sugar. Never took you for the jealous type.”

An inhale of air between his teeth, head tilting as his hands brace on his hips, “God I could make this so complicated right now. Drag this whole thing out to another chapter, but I won’t, because I just so happen to like you.”

A beat, before he puts you out of your misery, “Laura’s his daughter. Well, this world’s Logan’s daughter. Well, he’s the baby daddy, but there’s no mom. Well, it’s complicated.”

“Oh.” You manage. Another detail to keep up with, something you tuck away with the rest. To ask Logan about later, when you see him - a feeling that he might be a little more coherent in his explanation.

“I’m sure you’ll meet her.” Wade smiles, “Good kid, I mean, as good as you can be with that as a father figure. So much trauma.”

You hum. He had hinted at that. You couldn’t believe that his world didn’t want him. Not sure what could have happened to have him all but warn you the night before.

As if it would make you not want him.

There’s a beat, before his hands are resting on his hips, “Okay. I need to go back to the apparently-contextual-sex-cake.”

You groan, slumping against the wall - the heels of your palms digging into your closed eyes.

“I thought it was embarrassing but I gotta admit that I’m jealous. It’s really bothering me that no one’s ever baked me a cake, because I’m a very tender and generous lover.”

“That wasn’t why. He seemed interested in trying a non-phallic version of the cake I made for you,” You try to keep it professional, but he’s already smirking, “Which thank you for bringing up by the way, really broke the ice.”

“Without me you’d still be at ‘favorite colors’,” Wade’s smile widens, before he sighs longingly, “And god, that cake was good. Best dick I’ve ever had in my mouth.”

You snort, “So far, right?”

His eyes widen.

“You little slut, are you shopping for a third already?” Wade twists the doorknob - opening it a crack with his yell, “Al, it’s happening!”

“No,” You laugh, “I just meant-, I meant I might get better.”

“Can’t beat perfection. And I would know, with a face like this.”

There’s a high-pitched yap then, the sound of nails scratching at the wooden door.

“Ooh, duty calls. Pun intended. Again.” He thumbs over his shoulder, “I’ll tell him you stopped, by if-”

You give him a look, but a grin still tugs at your lips, “If I do that other thing you’re always asking me to do.”

His hand presses against his chest, in mock-offense.

“I can’t believe you’d say that! I was going to say if you don’t see him first.”

It makes you smile. Fondly, even.

“Thanks, Wade.”

His hand pats your shoulder.

“Any time, Sugar. My holes are always open.”

You sigh.

You don’t see him until late in the evening.

The afternoon ticking by. Telling yourself you don’t care - to play it cool - only to turn around and try to convince yourself that open communication is the way to go.

Vegging out in front of the television for a while - trying to figure out what to order for dinner. Narrowing it down to two takeout locations when there’s a series of bangs in the hallway.

Layered voices.

You can’t help but look. Half-nosy and half-worried for Wade, even if he did have mutant powers. Even if you can’t offer much for backup, it doesn’t stop you from cracking open the door.

“-open the goddamn door right now, I’ll break it down.”

The growling voice is one you’ve come to know, even if it’s angrier than you’ve ever heard.

The side of Logan’s fist colliding with the door frame, his shoulder pressed up against the wooden door.

“Not a chance, Jack Torrance.” Wade’s voice is muffled, “Always wanted to be an uncle and you are not ruining this for me-”

The doorknob rattles under his grip, as he snarls, “You roped me into this, shithead. All that talk about getting to know-“

“New York’s Cupid is never wrong! Don’t you dare ruin my streak!”

It’s then that Logan sees you - the snarl on his face flickering. Expression going flat.

A final filthy glare shot at the door before he steps away. The calculated look he throws your way makes you think he’s considering making for the end-of-the-hall staircase instead.

What is happening?

A beat, before his jaw grits. Hand shoving into the pocket of his jeans. Closing the gap between you only to thrust out a rolled-up bundle of bills, secured with a rubber band.

“For the mattress.”

There’s a frustrated rumble in his throat when you don’t take it - too busy frowning, your eyes flicking from the bills to his face.

“I don’t want that?” It comes out like a question, as you try to put the pieces together.

“Just take it.” He grits. Eyes dropping, “You can replace your mattress and we can forget last night happened, if you regret it so much.”

You blink.

“I don’t regret last night, Logan.” Your hands brace on your hips, “You were the one that left. Which is fine, if that’s how you like things to go, but don’t you dare point your finger-”

Logan scoffs, interrupting you.

“I didn’t leave.” His tongue licks against his teeth, as his head shakes, “I slept on the couch. Perfect place to hear your rant this morning.”

Your hands brace on your hips, “My rant?”

“Yeah, Sugar.” He’s stepping into your space - and it shouldn’t be as hot as it is, but something about how you’re bumping up against the door has your heart racing, “Heard everything you said. How ‘fucking dumb you are’, how you regret it.”

A beat, as you process - a thunk, as you head tips back against the door. Everything becoming clear, and you almost laugh.

He hadn’t left.

“I wasn’t talking about you.”

His frown deepens.

Your face softens, “How could I think that? I spent all day thinking about you. I was mad at myself for taking an early shift, instead of getting that extra time with you.”

There’s still a jut to his jaw. Defenses and hackles raised - your words as useless as his fist against the door.

Your hands spread wide, “I even baked you a cake, which is apparently something I do when I like someone.”

He goes still at that, eyes dark. A lithe roll of his shoulders as he steps closer - voice dropping, “Say that again.”

“I baked you a cake?” You repeat, distracted by his proximity.

“Mm,” Logan hums, “Not the beginning. The last part.”

Your cheeks heat, as you realize what you said, “When… when I like someone.”

There’s the touch of his fingers against your chin. Tipping your face towards his, even as your eyes drift to somewhere over his shoulder. Too embarrassed to meet his gaze just yet.

“Is that right?” Logan husks.

The word slips from you, “Maybe.”

“I like maybe.”

That emboldens you to look. He’s close now, a mimicry of the night before - just on the other side.

The hand still hovers, in that narrow gap between you. Fingers flexing around the bundle of bills, “I still want you to take this.”

“Well, I don’t want it.” Your head shakes, “Maybe just for some new sheets, but I thought-“

There’s a different intent in the way he crowds you, now. A softer slope of his shoulders, the sweep of his thumb against your skin.

“Thought what?”

The low husk makes you squirm. His eyes half-lidded when you glance at him. The heat of his anger morphing into a much different kind of fire.

“Thought that if it was already ruined…” You trail off, as you smile.

As you hope.

“….maybe you’d want to ruin it a little more with me, sometime?”

There’s the slightest pull of his lips, as he smirks.

You make it inside, but no further than the couch. It’s familiar, the way his hand cradles the base of your neck. The muted sigh, when your lips part at the sweep of his tongue.

Laid down against the cushions, legs spread to fit him between them. Hips that dip down, the meat of his thigh nudging against your core, sending your heart racing.

How he chases after you, when you forget to breathe. Leaning in you as your fingers twist in his hair, tugging him closer.

Need pounds in your vein, matching the pulse in your throat when his lips press against it. Wandering hands, one that palms the curve of your breast. A throaty hum when he can feel the tight peak through the fabric, pinching it between thumb and forefinger.

The other skating up your bare thigh, raising goosebumps. Slipping beneath the hem of your dress, his leg shifting to make room. Fingertips stroking against your inner thigh - the soft crease as you whine into his mouth, feeling how his lips curve as he kisses you.

You’re wet already. You know you are - since that spark of realization, then the moment when his mouth pressed against yours. Fueled by the heavy weight of him as he guided you beneath him, smelling like smoke and wood and the sharp bite of leather.

Wound up by this teasing, and it’s enough that your hand is catching his wrist, pulling his palm flush with your core.

The moan it pulls from you is ragged. Logan’s hand is warm where he cups you, curling fingers against the curve of your ass, heel pressing against your seam.

Another rock of his hand, until there’s a soft “please” slipping from your lips. Fingers slip beneath then - a ragged curse muttered against your lips as they part you.

Slipping against where you’re wet and warm. The tips of two pressing against your opening, feeling how you give for him.

“Should let me make it up to you.” Logan’s voice is ragged, as he sinks to the knuckle. A slow pump as you clench down around them, a lift of your hips as you try to take more.

It’s on the tip of your tongue to protest.

Remind him it was just a misunderstanding, but then your eyes are fluttering open, seeing how his dark gaze is fixed on you.

Your answer is quiet, “Okay. S’long as you don’t stop.”

There’s the flash of sharp teeth. You mourn the weight of him as he eases off of you, fingers slipping free. But it’s only to catch your thighs - smearing slick across your skin as he moves to the floor. Tugging you until legs spread wide for him, hips at the edge of the couch.

There’s a hitch of your breath, as you hold it. His lips pressing against your knee, as his hand bundle up the fabric. A slow reveal as he fists it around his fingers, bringing it up to rest against your abdomen.

His kisses follow the path his fingers took. Open-mouthed against your thigh, until his tongue dips out to taste the soft skin where your leg meets hip.

“Logan,” You huff - needy, “Don’t tease.”

His eyes lift from where they lingered - the darkened patch of fabric between your thighs.

“Been teasing me since I left. Couldn’t stop thinking about this.” It comes out rough, his eyes flicking back down.

“But I thought-,” You start. It’s hard to think when he’s this close, the press of his thumb into the joint of your knee - keeping your legs spread, “Thought you were mad.”

Logan huffs. Lips ghosting against your skin, as he inhales, “At the thought of never having you again.”

It’s like being struck by an arrow, piercing clean through. The little gasp turning long, as his hand slips up your thigh. Catching at the waistband of your panties - tugging them down so he can get his mouth on you.

The tip of his tongue meets you before his lips do. A low groan as it flattens against your slit, tasting your arousal. His nose pressing against your mound as he teases at your clit. Slipping down to dip inside you, as your nails scrape against the cushions.

Slicking you up with his tongue. The buzzing groan of his lips against your skin as he eats you - open-mouthed kisses against your core. Tight licks against your clit, before his lips close around and suck.

It leaves you a mess. Short panting breath, as he gives you what you need. His name melding in with your gasps, as that string inside you winds tighter and tighter.

The pressure eases and you whimper as he leans back, jaw working. Lips shiny where he’s smeared with you - watching how you clench for him as he lets spit pool on his tongue, before it’s dropping against your folds.

It’s filthy, the way he rubs it into your skin. Coating his fingers before the two are notching again, before sinking deep into you.

A moan is pulled from you, with the stretch. Stealing your breath, even with how eager you are. Giving you more. That dull ache easing as his mouth returns to you. Hungry in the way he groans against your skin, as if he was getting off to your pleasure.

The time before doesn’t compare to now. The full focus of his fingers, buried deep and crooking. Pointed flicks of his tongue - the way his eyes are so fixed on your face.

Catching the pull of your brow and the way your teeth sink into your lip. Keeping the pounding pace steady when he sees how you gasp, your fingers fisting in his flannel. Relentless in the way they stroke against the spot that makes you see stars.

It sends you higher and higher. A groan against your skin when you buck into his mouth. Another one, louder, when your hand slips to his hair and tugs.

“Feels so fucking good, Logan,” You’re babbling now - desire slurring the syllables, “I’m so, I’m so close-”

Those dark eyes settle over you - his mouth busy but it’s not hard to imagine the way he’d encourage you. The husk of his voice, that tough timber as a low command melds with praise. The thought is enough to send you over - with the soft suck of his mouth, the way his fingers fill you.

Your knees dig into his shoulders as you curl inward - that hand at your belly pressing you flat against the cushions as you come. Making you take what he gives you - the flick of his tongue going lazy as the tight pulse around his fingers ebbs.

The tension leeches from you, turning to glitter in your veins. That tight knot of worry slowly unfurling - giving you something to grasp, hold onto, as you come back down. A sigh when his fingers slip from you. The hungry press of teeth against your inner thigh, a reminder that he’s there. Soothing it with the swipe of his tongue after.

Easing back as you push yourself up - his shoulder pressing into the edge of the couch as he sits on the floor. Your limbs are liquid as you slip down to join him - Logan’s broad hands gripping at your waist, your thighs splitting as you throw a leg across his lap.

“You’re too good at that.” You hum, as you settle in his lap bare, spit-slick against his jeans. Against where he strains, a breath hissed out as you tug at his belt. Reaching to help you - loosening the button, tugging at the zipper.

A lift of his hips to push his jeans down, his cock full and hard where it rests against your belly. His hands reaching for the hem of your dress, tugging it from you. Fingers slipping around to loosen your bra as your mouth meets his.

He tastes like you, as he licks into your mouth - a sweet tang that blends with him. His shaft pressing against your pussy as he lifts his hips, grinding himself into you. You push yourself up onto your knees - his lips parting with a groan as your fingers circle him, holding him steady.

It breaks off - a sharp hiss, when you sink down.

There’s no slow slide this time. Too eager, in the way you drop down. Taking half of him at once, with a breath that chokes you. His fingers pinching hard enough to bruise, as his brow knits.

“Easy, sweetheart.” He grits, “Not going anywhere, alright?”

It soothes you, as your nails bite into his shoulders. Pink marks that ebb away by the time you start moving - a slow bounce until you’re sitting flush on his lap, cock speared inside you.

It’s also different than last time. He’d been deep, then. Your faced pressed into the mattress as you had panted - but now -

Now, his mouth is at your shoulder. Lips pressed against the fading mark he had left. That tight grip of his hands loosening, as he guides you - letting your hips rock. A shallow drag of his cock inside you, feeling like he’s in your ribs.

Another press of his mouth against your sternum. Hands slipping down to wrap around your thighs, encouraging you to lift a little more. Enough that he can get his mouth on you - his tongue laving across a nipple. Groaning as you press your chest against him, leaning into the suck of his lips, the nip of teeth.

His thrusts like this are shallow, punctuated by the occasional deep thrust that has you panting. Has your fingers loosening to slip between your thighs, pressing against your clit.

You can feel the scrape of his facial hair. The ease of his hands as he lets you drop, until he’s buried in you again. Catching at your wrist, tugging your hand back to his shoulder.

“Uh-uh.” Logan tongue clicks, eyes dark, “Just keep riding, honey.”

His fingers replace yours. Slick circles, a pressure that makes you clench down hard around him.

A soft coo, as your breathing shortens - turning to whimpers.

“Lemme make you feel good.”

And this is new, too - how close he is. Those hazel eyes focused so singularly on you, it’s almost too much.

“You do make me feel good,” You breathe, letting your lips press against his cheek, ‘You’re, oh-”

His hips stutter, where he flexes into you. Your own pace sloppy - grinding instead of bouncing, chasing the building pleasure in your core. The soft sounds you make growing louder. His legs flexing beneath you, feet going flat against the floor so he can drive himself up.

There’s that tell-tale clench. The way your vision starts to go blurry, words slipping into sounds.

“Logan.” You, “I’m-,”

He can feel it - the way you tighten as he pounds into you. The glaze of your eyes, the throaty moan as you start to string stiff in his arm.

“That’s it,” Logan rasps, face tipped up to yours, “You gonna come for me?”

Your moan pitches high.

He grins.

“Then let me hear how pretty you sound. Come on, sweetheart.”

With the circle of his fingers, you’re shattering.

A soft cry as you come again, gushing against the cock that only pounds harder. Drawing out the flutter of your cunt as he grips your thighs, rocking into you. A ragged moan as he feels how you flutter around him, head tipped back. An arm wrapping around you back as he tips forward, bringing you down to the floor.

You head cushioned on the pile of discard clothes. His knees brace against the rug as the angle changes, sending him deeper. Lifting your hips, eyes fixed on where he drives into you. The gleam of his cock where he’s soaked with your release, how he slips between your puffy folds.

His teeth grit. Fingers flexing against your skin. A rough moan when your hips move to meet his thrusts.

“You want me to come in you again?” There’s an edge to his voice. Eyes fixed on your face, searching.

You nod, but it’s not enough.

His hips snap harder, breath ragged, “Ask me for it, Sugar.”

It makes your stomach clench. Something deep burning, liquid heat in your core. Your legs hitch around his waist, hooking around his back.

“Want you to come in me,” You beg, “Logan, please-”

His eyes flutter shut. The muscles in his neck flex, as he arcs over you - a hand braced on the floor, pricks of silver glinting between his knuckles.

A rough growl that turns into something soft as his hips snap forward - hilting himself as he comes. Hips pumping with each pulse of his cock, as he spills deep inside you. As you milk him dry, until the heavy throb of his cock fades.

He’s beautiful. It leaves you dizzy.

You really might just have to bake him another.

The golden sunset seeps through the windows, spilling across the floor.

“You wanna stay?”

It comes out drowsy. Your limbs are liquid, even more so than last time, “I know a great takeout place.”

You’ll need a little fuel, if tonight goes as it did before.

He hums - the brush of bare fingers down your spine. It’s cramped on the couch, entwined limbs. Sweat-dewed in the summer evening.

“You still wanna get to know me?”

Your nose brushes his throat. Cheek pressed up against the curl of his shoulder - where he can just feel you nod, “I would. If you’ll let me.”

“Yeah,” Logan rasps, quietly.

“Yeah. That sounds nice.”

I can't even express how just - grateful and thrilled and happy I am that so many of you liked sugar, sugar! thank you for the encouragement for this part 2, and I hope you liked it! 💖 I have one more part planned (though open for more!) that I've been working on, along with more for the wade x f!reader x logan fic as well!

#logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #logan howlett x you #wolverine smut #logan howlett #james logan howlett x reader #xmen x reader #logan howlett x fem!reader #logan howlett x f!reader

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devil-in-hiding · 2 months

Text

Two months after starting as Price’s assistant and the boys can read you pretty well, considering you’ve lasted longer than any of the other girls that came before you. Soap and Gaz try to use you as THEIR errand runner, to which they just receive blank looks and a small “well sounds like you better get to it.”

But you do make them snacks, early mornings the team will walk into the rec room to find an assortment of breakfast foods, freshly cooked, and you tucked away on one of the couches, snoozing away, and Simon and the others can almost physically see John’s heart skip before he walks over, gently shaking you awake.

“Love what are you doing here this-“

“Knew you had to train the ‘piss babies’ as Ghost calls them, today. I thought you all would like a nice breakfast before they got here.” You hum tiredly, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, glancing up to see Johnny and Kyle shoving each other to get the first plate.

Simon watches as John shakes his head, but there’s a smile tugging at his lips. “You’ll be useless to me all tired.” He scolds, to which you whine, shaking your head.

“I already have your tea ready and a new file from Kate on your desk.”

#captain john price #john price x reader #john price x you #x reader #cod x reader #cod mwii #john price

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luv4freddie · 9 months

Text

Fools - T.N

in which the only Hufflepuff friend in the group of slytherins develops a crush on Theodore Nott— something only fools do.

fem!hufflepuff reader, bff Pansy, use of euphemisms and teasing yn for being innocent but sfw, reader is very emotional, jealous theo, 2800 words

"Y/n!!"

After a year, you'd think that people would get used to seeing the same Hufflepuff go over to the Slytherin table, but alas, half the Great Hall turned to watch you approach the table and take a seat next to Pansy.

She sticks her middle finger up behind your back, aiming it at all of the people who are still staring, and they quickly turn away. It was an unlikely friendship, but she was not going to let anyone make you feel bad about it.

"About time you get here," Draco huffs, "I've had to hear Pansy's 'girl talk' while you were sleeping."

You smile sheepishly at him, you had taken your sweet time this morning, hitting snooze a few times before listening to your favorite record and doing more singing than actually getting ready— resulting in you being extra late to breakfast.

"Sorry, Draco."

"Don't apologize yn, he doesn't deserve it."

You can hear the teasing lilt in Theo's voice from across the table, and Draco throws a handful of grapes at him.

"Whatever," Pansy turns her back to them, "did you hear, apparently the Hufflepuff chaser has a crush on you."

Your eyes flit between her face and your hands, and you wonder where she got her information from.

The boys around you seem to perk up at this, and Draco chides Pansy for deeming that piece of information unimportant compared to all her other, much more useless, girl talk this morning.

"Where on Earth did you hear that?" You cut in, not enjoying the way everyone is suddenly interested in your (nonexistent) love life.

"From a very trustworthy source," is all she'll give away, and you cringe.

"Can we change subjects, please?"

Theo narrows his eyes at you, as if he's searching your face for something.

"You don't care about it then? You're not jumping at the chance to ride his broom?"

The Slytherins around you snicker at his euphemism, but you go bright red.

"I- what! Why would you say- no!"

This only makes them laugh harder, but Pansy collects herself enough to place a reassuring hand on your arm.

"Don't worry, we all know our little puff would never."

You slap her hand away, upset at them treating you like a child.

"Well if you guys are only gonna tease me, I'm gonna go back to my own table."

"Y/n, we didn't mean-" Theo starts, but he's still got a smirk on his face, so you ignore him, leaving before he can try and stop you.

You take a seat at your own house table, and the Hufflepuffs around you immediately welcome you into their conversation.

You don't know why it bothered you so much. They were right, you weren't going to be "riding someone's broom" anytime soon, but hearing the way they talked about it— like you were just some silly, innocent baby— really bugged you.

If you were being honest with yourself, you also knew that deep down you've been repressing feelings for Theodore, because you knew enough stories about him to know it would never work. He was a heartthrob, and had no issue finding girls to entertain him at night— to him you were just a little girl. That conversation was just more proof. There's no way he'd be interested in you.

You unintentionally make eye contact with Zacharias Smith when you finally get out of your head, but you immediately look away, turning back to your friends just as Hannah asks about your Christmas plans.

You don't see your Slytherin friends again until Charms class, and Pansy immediately brings up what happened at breakfast.

"Hey, I'm sorry about that. I don't want you to feel bad, that's just how we are."

You give her a tight lipped smile, shrugging your shoulders. You've realized that most of the anger came from the realization that Theo probably saw you as a child, not actually their teasing.

"No biggie, it's forgiven."

She eyes you suspiciously but decides not to question it, instead starting to talk about her next party idea until she gets shushed when Professor Flitwick starts explaining directions.

You use the quiet moment to sneak a look at Theo, who's leaned back in his chair smirking at something Draco said next to him.

Pansy turns to you and you quickly shift your focus, but it appears she's already seen you. She gives you a raised eyebrow, and you play dumb, looking back at the teapot on your desk and trying to give it legs.

"What was that about back there?" Pansy asks as the two of you walk out together.

"I know it took me forever to get those stupid legs," you cringe, hoping to throw her off course.

"No I meant your staring."

You try not to look guilty, just shrugging your shoulders and explaining, "figured the boys might have figured it out faster. Should have known better."

She grins at that, muttering "you really should have." But something tells you she doesn't quite believe your story.

Your thoughts are only confirmed the next day when she invites you over to her dorm and then immediately suggests the two of you take veritaserum to play a game of truth or dare.

You let out a sigh.

"I'm not doing that Pans, just ask me whatever you want to know."

She grins, "you know me so well."

"Unfortunately," you tease, and she slaps your arm but asks her question anyway.

"Do you have a crush on Draco?"

Her face drops into confusion when you start laughing hysterically.

"That's what you thought? Merlin, you had me scared for no reason. No Pans, I absolutely do not have a crush on Draco."

She lets out a small sigh of relief, but you can tell she's a little peeved you laughed at her.

"Well what was I supposed to think? You got all grumpy yesterday when we were teasing you about your love life, and then the staring. It was either that or you're secretly in love with Nott, which, lets be for real."

She leaves it at that, but your cheeks flush pink. Be for real what? Be for real, he'd never want you? Be for real, what universe would the two of you work out? Be for real, he hates you?

The thoughts keep coming one after another, and suddenly your vision is blurred.

"Hey, woah, what's wrong?"

You cursed Pansy for being so observant.

"Nothing, I think my allergies are acting up." You say, but there's sadness in your voice, and there's an inch of snow outside, which isn't exactly pollen friendly.

"Don't lie to me y/n."

"I'm sorry for being so stupid and emotional." You cry, and Pansy rubs your back slowly.

"Hey, there's nothing wrong with being emotional! You don't see us do it much, but a lot of that's got to do with how we were raised. I wish I felt things as deeply as you do."

Your tears seem to slow, and she smiles.

"Now as for stupid, that depends on where that fit came from."

You look up at her in embarrassment, more hot tears threatening to fill your eyes.

"I... what did you mean?" You ask instead.

"Huh?"

"When you said be for real about me secretly being.." you couldn't bring yourself to say it, as if saying the words would make it true and something you could no longer push away and pretend wasn't there.

Realization dawns on Pansy's face, and she immediately wraps you up in a hug.

"Oh yn, it all makes sense now."

You continue to cry, and she looks at you with what you assume is pity in her eyes.

"I know, I'm such a fool! I know it would never happen, I know half of Hogwarts has a crush on him, I know he'd never want a girl like me." All of the things you'd been keeping to yourself and secretly thinking come spilling out of your mouth, and Pansy rubs your back while you continue to cry.

"Hey don't talk like that! Theo doesn't care about those people, and I know he cares about you. Not to mention, "a girl like you"? You're the exact type of girl that Theo needs. He practically never smiles the way he does when you're around. Just calm down okay?"

You nod through your cries, finally settling down as Pansy throws a magazine at you and the two of you lay across her bed.

Unknowingly, you end up falling asleep, tired from the amount of crying you did. Pansy notices but decides not to wake you, heading down to the common room where the guys would be getting back from quidditch practice soon.

When you wake up the room is dark, and a quick looks around reminds you you're in Pansy's room and not your own. You check the bathroom attached to the dorm, and when no one is in there you head down to the common room, assuming that's where she's gone to.

The whole group is sat on leather couches and armchairs when you make it down the stairs, and you rub the sleep out of your eyes as you approach the group.

"There's our bella addormentata," Theodore purrs, and you immediately flush even though you only understand half of his phrase. (sleeping beauty)

"Sorry for falling asleep." You apologize as you take the seat Pansy offered you, coincidentally landing between her and the reason for your crying.

"Stop apologizing so much," Theo whispers in your ear, and you refuse to look at him in fear of him seeing exactly the effect he has on you. Instead you continue to look at Pansy.

"No biggie, you needed it after that." She says, and you nod.

"After what? What happened?" Draco asked, ever the nosy weasel.

Pansy looked at you, obviously waiting for you to answer so she could go along with whatever you say.

You consider lying, but figure there's no point. They all know you're an emotional person, no one would find it unusual.

"I- uh- cried a little bit. Tired me out."

The boys (that you can see) all nod their heads in understanding and decide to switch topics, finally letting you relax.

However, since you'd turned your back to Theo, that now meant when you leaned back to get comfy you leaned directly into his chest, as he had one arm on the back of the couch behind you.

"Oh I'm so sorry!" You whisper, shooting back up and speaking only to him in an attempt to not draw attention from the others.

"Don't be silly," he says back, pulling your shoulders so you're back in the relaxed position against him, "you're welcome in my arms any day ragazza dolce." (Sweet girl)

You flush red again, but this time you do look up at him, a teasing glint in your eyes.

"You know I have absolutely no idea what you're saying, right?"

He grins, "that's part of the fun."

"Whatever," you turn back away from him to look at the group, your head resting right over his heart, "as long as you're not calling me a troll."

"I promise I'm not." He says, ruffling your hair before the both of you rejoin the main conversation.

"Zacharias Smith was at our practice today," Draco tells Pansy, and she looks at him in surprise.

"Really? Maybe he was looking for yn. She does sometimes keep me company in the stands."

"Oh he definitely was." Blaise smirks, and you feel Theo tense behind you. "Walked right up to Theo and asked where the pretty little one we're always hanging out with was."

"What?" Pansy shrieks, looking over, although you're unsure if the intentional target was you or the boy behind you. Her eyes momentarily widen at seeing your position before she notices something and smirks.

"Theo," she drawls, "I didn't notice those cuts on your knuckles earlier, is that new?"

Everyone turns to look at Theo, and you sit up in alarm, turning to look at his hand that's laying behind your spot on the couch.

"Theo! What happened? Why didn't you go get this checked out?"

He averts his eyes from your gaze. "Just wasn't thinking about it," he shrugs.

You frown. "How could you not be thinking about it, that looks painful!"

He shrugs again, grimacing when you grab his hand, insisting he let you heal it.

"Just let me go get my wand okay? I left it in Pansy's room."

You get up to leave, and with your back turned you don't see Pansy whisper to Theo and then him get up and follow you.

"I'll just come with." He announces, following you back to your friends room.

You try not to think about the intimacy of being alone with Theo while you tend to his wounds, trying once again to shove all your feelings down far in your heart.

Thankfully none of Pansy's roommates had come back, and Theo sits on her bed while you grab your wand from her nightstand before standing in between his spread legs.

"Give me your hand."

He complies, and you try not to blush at the warmth of his, much bigger, hand resting on your own.

"This is nasty Theo, did you punch a wall or something?" You ask, beginning to heal a few of the cuts. Luckily most of them were clean from where he'd washed them when he showered after practice, but they were scabbed over and his knuckles were blue with beginning to form bruises.

He lets out an amused huff of laughter and you stop your ministrations, looking up at him immediately.

"Tell me you didn't actually punch a wall."

He shrugs, "it was either that or Smith, and I know you don't like when I get into fights."

You feel yourself heat up. He didn't hit someone because of your preference, and the person just happened to be the guy who supposedly has a crush on you.

"Well I'm glad you didn't send my housemate to the hospital wing at least, although I wish you wouldn't have hurt yourself," you sigh, continuing to heal his hands.

Out of nowhere he pulls it away.

"Theo?"

"Look, I-" he cards a hand through his hair, contemplating his next words. "I didn't like it that Smith came looking for you. Especially that he asked me."

You look at him in confusion, "what? Why?"

He looks distraught, but he can't help the crooked smile that etches itself on his face.

"You're damn oblivious, you know that?"

You continue to look at him, no thoughts behind your eyes.

"Uh, I mean I guess? I've been told that a few times, though I'm not sure how it's pertinent to this situation."

Suddenly Theo's hands are on your cheeks, and his face is inches from your own.

"What- what are you doing?"

"I want to kiss you." He states plainly, as if it's the most normal thing in the world— as if the five words didn't have you spiraling out of control.

"Wait- do you want to kiss me because you think I'm like pretty or do you want to kiss me because you like me?"

You'd never even thought he would consider you pretty, but at his words you had to rethink a lot of things you thought you knew.

"I like you, amorina." (Little love)

"Really?" You know you should be celebrating, but you can't help the doubt that creeps into your mind. "You don't think I'm a silly, innocent, little Hufflepuff?"

He grins, "you can be my silly little Hufflepuff. And no I don't care that you're not jumping at the opportunity to go broom hopping."

You can't help but laugh a his phrasing, but you're glad he knew what you meant.

"I like you, amorina, I don't care about anything else, as long as I get you."

You smile, and Theo swears he could die happy if it's the last thing he sees.

"Well in that case, I want you to kiss me too."

He can barely hold back his own smile as he places his lips on yours, cradling your jaw with one hand while the other holds your hip.

He kissed you gently, not at all like what you'd expected, but you feel his adoration flowing out of it, and you can't help but break it to let out a giggle.

"And to think I was crying over you a few hours ago."

He grins, standing up and grabbing your hand to walk back down to the common room together, where your friends were waiting for you to go to dinner.

"No more crying over me okay?"

You nod your head, and he pulls you in for one more kiss before you rejoin the rest of your friends.

#theodore nott #theodore nott scenarios #theodore nott oneshot #theodore nott fanfiction #theodore nott fluff #slytherin boys #theodore nott angst #slytherin x hufflepuff #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x y/n

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thewispsings · 2 months

Note

can u PLEASEEE do an smau w oscar x american! reader who’s super gothy and witchy and they go to salem for halloween pleaseee!!

salem date | oscar piastri

pairing; oscar piastri x witchy!reader

summary: oscar loves his witchy girlfriend, and takes her wherever she wants to go, even if it means missing work

liked by oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1, landonorris, and 619,026 others!

yourusername: my favorite thing about moving to monaco? getting to decorate a whole new space and exploring cute new witchy stores 🐈‍⬛🖤

view comments below!

oscarpiastri: is living with me not your absolute favorite thing about moving to monaco?

yourusername: no. walking abracadabra on the beach is my favorite thing, living with you is like top 10

user1: i still can’t belive they named their cat ‘abracadabra’

user2: it’s so on brand for yn, but for oscar? not so much

user3: please, yn has that man wrapped around her finger. if she told him to change his name to halloween, he would do it

maxverstappen1: yn i need my cards to be read again, when are you free?

yourusername: i’m free friday next week, that okay?

maxverstappen1: perfect!! thank you :D

user4: in doing tarot readings for the drivers is so dear to me

landonorris: wait i want my cards read too :(

yourusername: sorry lan, im not free for another 2 weeks after that

landonorris: ugh max ruins everything

maxverstappen1: you snooze you lose, loser

user5: im in monaco, yns in monaco, i have a chance to met yn ln. holy poop

user6: omg i need an apartment tour????

user7: weird question, do you ever get looks by other people? i know you dress quite alternately and was wondering how accepting europeans are?

yourusername: i get looks all the time, but I've become quite used to it, im not bothered by it as i used to be. but i definitely get more looks in places that aren't so touristy, than places like france. key is simply ignoring them 🖤

user8: they just can't handle your swag

charles_leclerc: leo wants another playdate with abra, when are you free?

maxverstappen1: you aren't tricking ANYONE. you keep using these playdates so yn can read your cards without you needing to make an appointment

user9: appointment?? 😭

yourusername: is that true charles?? you've been using leo??

charles_leclerc: NO YN DON'T LISTEN TO HIM, HE IS JUST JEALOUS OF LEO'S AND ABRACADABRAS RELATIONSHIP.

yourusername: i can't belive this charles, i just, i need a moment.

charles_leclerc: yn... it's not what it looks like...

oscarpiastri: am I interrupting something???

user10: you're interrupting the friendship breakup of the century 💔

liked by oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc, and 793,073 others!

yourusername: we are all halloween ready

view comments below!

user11: my favorite time of the year <33

yourusername: you and me both

charles_leclerc: leo misses abra

yourusername: does he? or do you just miss my card readings?

charles_leclerc: little bit of both, i got him a halloween costume, you don't want to see it?

yourusername: of course i want to see it

charles_leclerc: i'll be over in 10 minutes!!

yourusername: DO NOT expect that i'll read your cards

charles_leclerc: i don't 😞

user12: they're back!!!!

user13: salem this year???

yourusername: im still not sure, oscar cant make it this year and it feels weird going without him :((

user14: "it feels weird going without him" OSCAR IF YOU DONT GET YOU AND YN ON A FLIGHT TO SALEM RIGH NOW ISTG.

user15: im going to salem this year in honor of yn not being able to go ✊

maxverstappen1: abra looks so cute!! jimmy and sassy need one of those hats right now

yourusername: i'll make more max, what colors?

maxverstappen1: blue and orange please!

user16: cat lovers bond in the weirdest ways

oscarpiastri: thank you for re-decorating love, i just love waking up to a fake skeleton on our ceiling 🧡

yourusername: put some respect on sir bones name oscar. i’ll have you know that he’s there to protect you.

oscarpiastri: from what?

yourusername: the spiders

oscarpiastri: and how does sir bones protect me from said spiders??

yourusername: he scares them away. duh.

landonorris: yeah duh oscar. gosh get with the program.

liked by oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1, and 620,726 others!

yourusername: salem we love you 🖤

view comments below!

user17: SALEM DATE 3 YEARS IN A ROW!! THATS RIGHT BABY 🕺🕺

maxverstappen1: you’re telling me i could have skipped media day?

yourusername: would you be interested in going to salem?

maxverstappen1: um, to skip media day? yes!

user19: max and his hate for media day will live down as the longest rivalry in f1

user20: need myself a man who would call in sick just so he can take me to some random town for a couple hours

user21: random town??? put some respect on salems NAME.

user22: do you guys think the FIA knew he was missing media day for this, or do you think he told them he was like sick or something 😭

landonorris: i can confirm that they did not know about salem. and he is now in trouble.

user23: NOOO OSCAR

user24: omg oscar just got a fine

user25: HOW MUXH???

user24: they didn’t disclose. all they said was “we have been made aware that a certain driver decided to go on vacation instead of fulfilling their duty.”

user26: that’s so funny

user27: #free oscar

oscarpiastri: the fine was worth it 🖤

yourusername: 🖤🖤🖤

user28: omg wait. do you guys think this was a surprise?? because yn said before that oscar wasn’t going to make it??

yourusername: yes, oscar did suprise me with tickets to salem this morning!

user29: OMG THATS SO CUTE AHHHHH

user30: they’re perfect for each other

charles_leclerc: group trip to salem next year?

georgerussell63: we have practice that day

maxverstappen1: so? we’ll all call in sick or something

f1: 🤨

maxverstappen1: you didn’t see that

. . .

notes: thank you for requesting!! this was fun to make ;))

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mygnolia · 5 months

Text

get better! | p. sunghoon

SMAU! synopsis -› in which your neighbor and popular twitch streamer park sunghoon breaks his arm, so he switches to vlog style content that matches up with your’s! now everyone’s curious why 1) you have a cute boy in your apartment, 2) sunghoon’s not on his grind anymore, and 3) when are you two going to date!?

pair -› twitch streamer!sunghoon x vlogger!reader

includes -› fluff, humor/comedy, romance!!

trope -› strangers/acquaintances to lovers

cw -› cursing, i am chronically online so my humor is broken, i also don't know how to navigate twitter so forgive the inconsistent times or details, more to be added!

a/n -› guys i literally have never written an smau before. HELP??? it's been in my drafts since 2022 and now i finally wanna make it, plsplspls tell me if i seem like im plagarizing and i'll share proof + explanations! I have not been on enha tumblr in years but ik there's trope overlaps here and there!! super excited doe

TAGLIST OPEN! (send an ask, dm, or comment on THIS post to be added!!) SLOW UPDATES!

PROFILES. |||

sesame road | y/n l/n, yang jungwon, kim sunoo, l. inka, t. amber

fortnite new szn in 2 dayz? | park sunghoon, lee heeseung, sim jaeyun, park jongseong, riki nishimura

NEW VIDEO OUT EVERY FRIDAY! STREAMING TUESDAY AND SATURDAY AT 8PM! YAP CITY PODCAST NEW EP OUT NOW!

colored: written! DON’T SPAM LIKE ILL BLOCK YOU

prologue: maeumi x 4 | new fortnight fortnite battle pass

nickname basis

fractured humerus or broken humor??

WITH Y/N RENT FREE JUST POSTED! meet my neighbor ig???

revenue is spiraling...

stan twit not ready

HOONIEBEE IS LIVE! join stream 4 special guest

user omgilovesunghoonandiwanttomarryhim

delululand

is he 5'11 and has insane biceps

YAP CITY NEW EP OUT NOW! hooniebee, w/ y/n, and red flags!

do not download bedwars

#sunghoonisoverparty

WITH Y/N RENT FREE JUST POSTED! my kitchen almost caught fire!

YAP CITY NEW EP OUT NOW! hooniebee, w/ y/n, burning questions + special guests

togetherness

top ten worst among us betrayals

WITH Y/N RENT FREE JUST POSTED! grwm! pottery date, cooking pt. 2, and boyfren :P

MEDIA SPECIALS

jam with won pt 3 | Yang Jungwon

snooze acoustic cover - lee heeseung | HEESEUNG

how to make THE BEST 20 minute alfredo | cooking mama jay park

playing plat in silver lobbies | niki, jake

1K notes · View notes

togament · 4 months

Text

" 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦. windbreaker boys edition. "

pt. 1. (sakura, ume, suo.)

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : kinda suggestive (i mean it's me. ofc its gotta be suggestive somehow), some swearing, kinda ooc for suo. can you blame me though? we know so little about the man and we're already 140+ chapters deep.

𝐒𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐑𝐀.

- canonically doesn't own a pillow so he only sleeps on his side, curled up to conserve heat. like a cat. but after having you around? he's clinging onto you, man. he may deny it vehemently when you tease him about it in the morning, throwing pillows at you as he's blushing profusely, but he doesn't know you've taken a picture of him with his arm over your chest, tugging you close to him. - clenches and grinds his teeth when he sleeps. you buy him a mouth guard so his jaw isn't as tense when he wakes up. (TMJ sufferers rise up) - sleeps in his boxers when you're around but if not, he's going commando, baby. just... text him when you're planning on surprising him in the morning. give him prep time unless you're looking to eat sausage for breakfast. - gets bed hair but doesn't care. he'd have a huge cowlick on his head but he doesn't mind. best he could do is kind of wet his hair? anything more than that is too much effort. - very light sleeper. if he hears the smallest bump in the night, he's immediately up. - has only one duvet and it's kind of falling apart. you gifted him a new one and he almost cried in front of you (not without freaking out about it first.) - talks in his sleep sometimes. you record him whenever you catch him doing it just to play it back for him in the morning. he's always so confused as to how and why he does it.

𝐔𝐌𝐄.

- won't sleep unless you give him his goodnight kisses. you have to. how dare you deny him of the pleasure of kissing you before you sleep? - always lets you sleep before he does because he reads before he sleeps. - needs reading glasses and falls asleep with them on. CONSTANTLY. you have to remind him about them before you snooze or you peel them off when you wake up before he does. has broken one (close to a dozen) reading glasses before you came along because he kept sleeping on them. - has to read before he sleeps. it's a necessity. he reads stuff ranging from philosophy to manga. never fails to fall asleep with a book in his hand too. - checks on a spreadsheet he's got for his plants so he has a game plan ready in the morning. checks the weather and temperature and everything before he does his reading routine. worries endlessly if a heavy typhoon drops or god forbid hailstorms. - HUGE SLEEP HUGGER AND YOU CANNOT TELL ME OTHERWISE. his body just naturally gravitates towards you in his sleep. it's cute. it's endearing. until it's a hot summer night and you're damn near naked because just wearing a shirt's making you sweat. ume's just a happy sleeping puppy of a man, sweaty body clinging to your side. - a very light snorer. you rarely ever get to hear him snore. he only does after a particularly tiring day or after you've had rounds and rounds of se-- - gets a boner most nights. - wet dreams often. you have to help him out in the mornings. - that being said, he's very, very touchy in the mornings.

𝐒𝐔𝐎.

- sleeps like the dead. you may or may not have held your finger to his nose to check if he's still breathing. - never has bed hair. when he wakes up, he looks absolutely impeccable. it's crazy. - has a candle warmer set to a timer. likes sleeping when his surroundings smell good. also has a scent diffuser. - has like... a 30 minute long ritual before bed. candle warmer, check. proper pyjamas, check. pillows plumped, check. skincare routine, done. you always end up waiting for him on the bed while he's apologizing with that sweet voice of his while crawling into bed with you. - only ever sleeps facing up. if you want to cuddle, he could. but he can't engulf you in his frame or anything. just an arm around you or maybe with you pressed up against his side. - he runs cold so he's got thick duvets over thick duvets. they're really soft too. hotel quality. always gets them washed. - somehow you've never caught him in the process of waking up. he's always up before you, brewing tea or cooking breakfast. hell, he already has a set ready for you by the time you wake up. - who am I kidding suo never sleeps.

a/n: just a quick little thing before i hop into bed. doing part two soon bc i wanna clown on kaji so fucking BAAAAAD omg (affectionately) ok goodnight babycakes.

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alexiroflife · 3 months

Text

"sober confessions" drunk wishes sequel

high school!satoru gojo x reader

Synopsis: the following morning after satoru asked you to stay the night, the two of you reflected over what some of the things that were said and done when satoru was drunk could have meant

to sum it up: it's confession time

WC: 5,981

Warning(s): mentions of alcohol use

You were suddenly awakened by the shrill ring of your phone alarm, signifying that it was time for you to get ready for class.

You jumped, blindly reaching over to hit the snooze button, only when you repeatedly tapped the screen, the sound proceeded as though growing louder.

You groaned, mind foggy from sleep as you propped yourself up and snatched your phone within your grasp, angrily peering down at the device to find that there was, in fact, no alarm going off but a call from the group chat ringing repeatedly.

You squinted, the screen light glaring into your face rather unpleasantly. You were struggling to get a grip on your bearings as you watched the phone ring, momentarily believing that you were in your room, when you felt a pair of arms tighten around your middle and a sleepy groan rumble and vibrate against your back.

You jumped slightly, craning your head back to find your best friend sleeping soundly beside you, arms wound around your waist in a spooning position as his white lashes fluttered gently against his soft pale skin. Tendrils of white fell lazily into his eyes, his cheek mashed against his pillow as deep breaths escaped his parted lips.

Your eyes widened, the previous night’s (or rather the early morning’s) events flooding back into your mind at full force. You had fallen asleep in Satoru’s bed after he had begged you to spend the night, holding your waist and pulling you to him pleadingly.

And now your friends were calling, most likely wondering where the hell the two of you were.

What time was it anyway?

You glanced up at the corner of your phone as it rang and caught sight of the hour. It was 9:30, an hour following the block of your first class of the day. How the hell had you managed to sleep through your alarm? You had told yourself that you were going to wake up early to sneak back into your dorm, but apparently, your body had other plans to oversleep with Satoru cuddled up to your back, clinging to you like you were a stuffed animal he was afraid to let go of.

Your face instantly flushed, uncertain of how you had even managed to find yourself in this position in the first place. You didn’t know what to do. You wanted to leave to go back to your dorm, but you didn’t have class for another hour now. Were you supposed to wake Satoru up? Tell him that it was time to get ready for the morning, or sneak back into your dorm like you had originally planned to?

The ringing of your phone didn’t help either. The moment it had stopped, it started up again, whoever had been calling impatiently pondering over your whereabouts. You imagined that you were in some type of trouble for missing class, for Yaga had always been particularly strict on Satoru about fulfilling his responsibilities and simultaneously not dragging you into his nonsense.

You looked back over your shoulder to see if Satoru had been disturbed by the sound, but found that he was still sleeping rather peacefully. With a sigh, and a rather impending sense of deja vu, you answered the phone with your camera off.

“H’llo?” you murmured into the mic, not even bothering to look at the FaceTime bubbles.

“Oh, well look who decided to answer,” Suguru’s voice lifted into the room rather agitatedly. “And with her camera off.”

“What do you want?” you groaned, shielding your arm over your eyes as you laid back onto Satoru’s pillow.

“Someone woke up feisty today,” Shoko’s voice slid into the microphone teasingly, and you sighed.

“You try babysitting Satoru at three in the morning and see how you feel when you wake up.”

“Yeah, so funny you mention that,” the dark haired man quickly said. “Where the hell are the two of you? You do know you missed class this morning, right? We had to figure out a way to cover for you when Yaga started interrogating us.”

You cringed slightly at the thought of the burly man being angry with you. “Is he pissed?”

“Take a wild guess.”

“Well, what did you say to him?”

“Nothing that made him believe us,” Geto exhaled.

“Yeah, don’t be surprised if you get an angry knock on your door later today,” Shoko chuckled and you groaned.

“God dammit,” you murmured.

“So my question still stands, (Y/n),” Suguru said. “Where are you and Satoru?”

You chewed on the inside of your lip, shifting slightly when Satoru’s fingers dug into your sides, inching his face closer to yours so that you could feel his breath fanning over your forehead. Heat pinched your cheeks as a shudder racked your body, your ability to keep your composure crumbling as long as you were within Satoru’s arms.

“Ummm…” you stalled. “I mean… Satoru’s still sleeping…”

There was a deafening pause as silence occupied the line for the next few moments, then came a weight, exasperated exhale from Suguru’s line. “(Y/n), are you still in his room?”

The dark haired boy’s comment was enough to have your body bursting into flames from embarrassment. “I-It’s a long story.”

You could hear Shoko stifle a laugh with a short snort, and though Suguru paused again you could imagine him shaking his head in disbelief. “I told you to get him back safe, not to sleep over and be late to class.”

“I told you, it’s a long story,” you growled. “And I don't wanna hear anything from you after you abandoned us last night.”

“Don’t you people ever rest past midnight?” Shoko joked.

“Unfortunately not.”

“Just- wake him up, okay? We still have the rest of the day to get through and a new mission to discuss,” Suguru said tiredly.

“I’ll try my best, damn, but he-” you stopped yourself when you felt the white haired boy stir against you. You froze, unable to respond to Suguru and Shoko pressing for you to finish your sentence. Your breath hitched in your throat and your eyes darted down to where Satoru’s hands rested over you. You watched a hand lift from your side slowly, the other sliding over your abdomen as Satoru reached out for something.

You turned back to look at him, confused, and found that his eyes were still closed but his peaceful expression had been replaced with a frustrated one, his brows angled and his nose scrunched as he grunted softly. You looked back before you to see that he had been reaching blindly for your phone. You lowered it slightly so that he could have access, curious as to what he was trying to do, before he tapped at the screen harshly, his finger struggling to find a button. He tapped aggressively, growing more irritated with the task though he still refused to peek open his eyes.

“What the hell is that tapping noise?” Suguru’s voice questioned just seconds before Satoru’s finger finally hit the red x at the top corner, the call ending abruptly.You gaped, Satoru humming in satisfaction and wrapping you into him again, tucking his leg over your hip and burying his face in your hair.

You set your phone down slowly, stilling once again in the seventeen year old’s hold. “S-Satoru?” you whispered, out into the emptiness of the room. He hummed again, brushing his nose into you and inhaling deeply. “Are you awake?”

“Mm-mm,” he hummed in opposition, shaking his head ever so slightly.

“Why’d you end the call?” you murmured.

“...too loud,” he grumbled sleepily.

You sighed, smoothing your hand over his clutching your midsection. “We slept in. We gotta get up.”

“No,” he groaned, his sleep coated voice ruggedly reverberating into you. You could feel that way he sank into you even further somehow, exhaling in content when he felt that you were close enough for you to be unable to escape. “...no,” he exhaled in content, voice drifting off quietly.

You had to get out of this somehow, but you had no idea how the hell you would be able to break free from the strongest student’s hold as he stubbornly gripped you tighter and tighter, holding you damn near prisoner.

This, you decided, was somehow worse than what you had to endure when Satoru was drunk. While you understood the white haired boy was hungover and half asleep, he was no longer intoxicated. In addition to his sober state, Satoru had incredibly trained heightened senses. No matter what state he was in, he was always hyper aware of what he was doing in that moment, whether he remembered the next day or not. Therefore, you knew that he knew he was fully conscious of the way he clung to you, which only meant that his affections with you were not entirely inspired by the alcohol that was leaving his system.

You couldn’t blame his behavior on his intoxication anymore, and the notion frightened you.

You tried to break free from him anyhow, though the task was fruitless the moment you started. You pressed down onto his arms and tried to push yourself upward from his grasp, grunting and straining your throat whilst attempting to wriggle away, but you could barely budge. Hell, it didn’t even feel like Satoru was exerting any effort, especially since he was already dozing off again, and yet you were stuck.

“Satoru!” you groaned in frustration. You didn’t want him to know that you enjoyed this. You didn’t want him to know that you wanted to stay like this, wrapped into him safely and snugly with no desire to leave anytime soon. You didn’t want him to see you so clearly enamored by him in the daylight, for your gentle affections motivated by your love for him were only meant for the wee hours of the morning when he couldn’t walk in a straight light or see any less than three blurry visions of you before him.

He didn’t even give you a response this time, completely falling silent as you struggled against him and you exhaled loudly, agitated with your predicament. Thanks to your weakness for your best friend, you had missed class and now by the looks of it, you were going to miss your second class too. You knew Gojo wasn’t getting up any time soon, and he wasn’t letting you out of his bed either.

You sighed again, falling limp against him and giving in to your fate. You pouted slightly, slumping your cheek against the pillow as Satoru’s breaths fanned soothingly against your ear, chest rising and falling against your back.

Little did you know, however, Satoru was now wide awake, feeling you, breathing you in, taking in the opportunity that presented itself to him. He knew that the moment you were aware of his full consciousness, you’d force that line of friendship between the two of you again, leaving your gentle caress of his face in the past as you proceeded into the day like nothing happened, like you were friends and that was all there was to it, and sure, perhaps friends found themselves in predicaments where they’d touch each other or lay with each other in a platonic fashion.

But Satoru didn’t want your platonic affection. He didn’t want this moment to fade away into thin air like your intimate moments always did the night following his drinking. He didn’t want the tenderness in your voice to be replaced by that harsh, yet playful teasing you always showed him and he showed you, and Suguru, and Shoko in return.

Yes, he drank to feel unburdened by the weight he carried as “the honored one” every day, but he also drank to be close to you, to find excuses to long for you openly, to capture the way you took care of him when he rendered himself incapable.

Then, Satoru.

You rarely ever called him Toru when he was sober, always addressing him by his full name as though it was a necessity, that damn barrier that stood between the two of you was there was more. He hated it.

Satoru Gojo knew he was the best from a very early age. He knew that he would have to struggle with very little throughout his life, and that amongst skills and sorcery, popularity and girls would follow like second nature. He was a teenager, and he reveled in the attention from all areas, but when it came to you, he was just far weaker, completely forgetting that any girl would have killed to be his girlfriend and trailing around behind you like a lovesick puppy.

Still, since he was always so inebriated when you took care of him, he never fully understood why you were so doting upon him. He remembered bits and pieces from the previous night, fragments that came together more easily than memories from other nights where he had been far more wasted. He could still see your face clearly, feel your hands on his face, your fingers brushing his chest. It was all becoming rather clear in his head again, and he wanted to return to that. He didn’t want to let that go, because maybe you cared for him this way and allowed him to cuddle up to you through the night because you felt something for him greater than friendship.

Even that morning, you could have forced your way out somehow (not really, because Satoru was incredibly stubborn), and yet you allowed him to take over and keep you close. You allowed him to possibly lead you to miss your next class. You allowed him to hug you tight to him, relinquishing any willpower to fight against him. Why?

“Satoru,” you spoke up again softly, and he twitched, unable to not respond to the way your voice sounded calling his name. “I know you’re awake.”

His lips curled upward slightly though his eyes still remained closed. “I’m not,” he murmured.

Hearing him speak to you coherently and prove that he had indeed been fully aware of what he was doing the whole time like you initially suspected had you internally fuming. “You asshole,” you hissed, and he chuckled, his abdominals tensing rigidly against your back and his fingers brushing the hem of your shirt with the action.

You flushed, holding your breath. “It’s not funny, we’re already behind today. Come on, let’s go,” you frowned, moving to push free from him again but once more, but his embrace tightened and he shook his head against you. “Stop messing around!”

“I don’t wanna get up yet,” he said as though his explanation were simple, and in truth, he thought it was. There was nothing else for him to really say.

“That’s too bad. We have class!” you fumed, releasing another groan when he still refused to release you. You tried to shift around to at least face him, but it was no use. “Satoru! Get off of me!”

A sense of irritation overcame the said boy in reaction to your demand. You were acting as though you hadn’t willingly slept through the night with him. Why? Why didn’t you want him to know that you enjoyed this?

“Don’t act like that,” he mumbled huskily and you furrowed your brows.

“Act like what? Responsible?”

“No. Don’t act like you don’t want to stay here too.”

You froze, struggling momentarily to process what he had said. Had you made your feelings too obvious? “Wh- Satoru, I’m just saying that we’re late and we need to get up. I still have to shower.”

“I don’t care,” he sighed out. He tugged you back, using the grip he already had around you to flip you over within his hold and tuck you to his chest by the back of your head. He kept his leg obnoxiously thrown over your hip, now hugging onto you in a childish manner. “We’re gonna rot here together for a few more hours.”

You made a noise of surprise, vision shielded by his shirt. You pressed your hands into his hard shoulders, pushing to move him away. “No we’re not,” you whined. “Quit being so annoying, let me go!”

“Ugh,” he groaned grumpily into your hair, leading you to raise a brow and lean back to look up at him.

“What the hell are you groaning about? You’re the one holding me hostage.”

“It’s nothing,” he said, and for the first time that morning, you could see his sapphire orbs peeking through his lashes, peering down at you with a hint of frustration and fatigue. “I’m just hungover and you’re talking too much.”

“Well, I’d talk less if you let go of me, idiot.”

Satoru stared down at you for a long moment, as though studying every part of your face and analyzing the meaning behind your expression. Your brows drew together further as you looked back up at him, caught in his gaze with confusion splayed over your face.

“What?”

You could feel his grip finally grow lax around you, embrace loosening yet his hands still stayed on the small of your back and his leg still over yours. His subtle release allowed you to pull away a bit more, taking a better view of his face leaned against the pillow. “I just wish you would be more like you were last night sometimes,” he said rather calmly, and you lifted your brows in shock.

“Huh?” you breathed. “What do you mean?”

“What do you think I mean?”

Suddenly, he was smirking down at you lazily, lips curved into that devilish smile that caught the hearts of hundreds. You hated when he smiled at you like that, because you knew that just like the rest of them, that smile had you absolutely whipped.

“I think we should stop stalling and get ready for class,” you tried to change the subject. Satoru’s smile dimmed slightly, a fleck of disappointment simmering in his gaze. He turned his head to face the ceiling and threw his arm over his eyes, lifting it from your body and his leg along with it.

“Fine,” he grunted. “Go ahead.”

“Thank you,” you huffed, moving to slide over the covers and out from Satoru’s arm, which fell limply to the bed as you rose to your feet on the floor. Neither one of you mentioned the way the cold enveloped your bodies when you withdrew, nor how you both sought the warmth that had been consuming the two of you just moments prior.

You stretched your arms out and leaned over, scrunching your face as a few cracks resounded in your back. Satoru lifted his arm carefully to watch the movement, as you tilted your head to either side and raised your arms above your head, shirt lifting ever so slightly to reveal a hint of your bare back. His lips tightened and ears burned, arm moving back over his eyes.

Seconds after, you turned over your shoulder to take a glance at Satoru’s lounged state, limbs still sprawled out everywhere. You felt guilty for a second, forcing yourself to leave him like this, but what exactly was there to feel guilty for? Satoru was your friend and you needed to get up to actually get some work done and go to school. There was nothing wrong with you pointing that out, and yet, the idea of leaving Satoru’s room to go back to your own felt like shit.

You quickly moved to the other side of the room to grab the pain medicine you always kept stored by the window for this very occasion. You leaned over Satoru to place the bottle on top of his abdomen. The white haired boy looked down then back up at you.

“Take that for your headache,” you told him. “And there’s water on your nightstand, okay? I’ll see you in a few, I’m gonna go get ready.”

“(Y/n),” Satoru called you before you could gather your sweatshirt and keys from the floor. You turned over your shoulder mid-movement to watch him sit up, coursing his fingers through his hair with his arm propping him up behind him.

He was so pretty, with his sleepy eyes and his sloppy t-shirt hanging over his shoulder. He rubbed his eye then met your gaze, face blank and brows set low.

“You didn’t really answer my question from last night,” he said after a few seconds.

“...Which question? You say a lot when you’re drunk, you know,” you tried to laugh it off, fully aware of what Satoru was referring to.

“Oh really? Then let me remind you.”

Gojo moved to sit at the edge of the bed similar to how he had hours before, early in the morning. He patted the space next to him loudly.

“I was sitting right here, you were standing here in front of me helping me change, and then I asked you why you always take care of me. You said it was because we’re friends, and then I said it wasn’t the same as how ‘friends’ take care of each other,” he walked you through the events matter-of-factly, blinking up at you with an innocent expression.

“Okay, first of all,” you placed your hand on your hip. “I literally did answer your question. Second, how the hell do you remember all of that so well? Don’t tell me your memory is usually that good when you wake up with a hangover.”

“No, last night it just wasn’t as bad. Why, ‘there something you’ve been hiding?” he teased you slightly and you scoffed.

“You wish.”

Satoru sighed and leaned his chin in his hand. “And no, you didn't really answer. Not the full question. You never addressed the second part of what I said.”

“Because it’s not relevant, Satoru. I take care of you because we’re friends.”

“And I told you that doesn’t make sense.”

“How?” you made a strange face, feeling yourself grow defensive under Satoru’s gaze and his observations. You hadn’t expected to have this conversation, and it was starting to make you nervous. “Do you want me to say I take care of you when you’re drunk for some other reason?”

The white haired student tilted his head slightly, strands of hair falling into his sight across his forehead. He pursed his lips, studying you. “I don’t know, it just depends if there actually is some other reason.”

You scrunched your nose as the two of you stared at each other from opposite ends of the room. The longer you looked at him, a smile slowly spread onto his face as though he couldn’t stay serious.

“I can’t tell if you’re messing with me or not right now,” you murmured, slimming your eyes as you eyed him down.

“I’m-I’m being serious,” he chuckled lowly, snatching up the pain bottle into his hand to open it and pop one into his mouth. “See, you even know to make me take this when I wake up,” he said, grabbing his water and lifting the open bottle to his lips.

“Because this happens a lot,” you crossed your arms.

“I know, silly, that’s why I asked the question in the first place.”

“Well, what about you? You’re the one always calling for me when you drink,” you deflected the attention onto him to take the heat away from you. “Care to explain why you do that, hm? Is that just a ‘friend’ thing?”

“I asked you first, (Y/n),” Satoru grinned, tossing his now sealed water aside to stand slowly so as to not further aggravate the minor ache in his head. “Don’t try to change the subject.”

“I’m just saying. I don’t mind it, obviously, but it’s always me you end up asking for.”

Satoru walked up to you slowly. “Because I care about you,” he said, soft smile still resting on his face.

You looked up at him confusingly, skin warm as he gazed down at you with an air of gentle kindness. “I care about you too, Satoru, which is again why I don’t mind always taking care of you. We’re friends.”

Friends.

The word hung in the air like a lingering smell, one that took several hours and numerous open windows to rid a room of. You were always so quick to remind him that you were friends, that your love for him was the love of a friend for a friend, and while he harbored that same love for you, it didn’t feel right.

He loved Suguru as a friend. He loved Shoko as a friend, but you… he loved you as a friend, of course, but he desired more from you. There was a childish need within him to stay by your side, to metaphorically tug at your pig tails then turn around and hold your hand as the two of you walked to class. He wanted his isolated path to greatness to be accompanied by your presence, close, sweet, full of laughter and shy smiles and soft touches and swift kisses. He wanted you to take care of him though he knew he needed no one.

He needed you.

And as more than just a friend.

But as confident as Satoru was with himself and his abilities in charming anyone, he had no idea how to go about addressing his feelings for you. Satoru knew how to joke, and as your friend, he knew how to push your buttons, and he did absolutely know how to care for you, but he did not know how to make you see how much he wanted to be with you. He danced around the idea because that was all he knew how to do. Deep down, when it came to you, he was a coward, a scared shitless kid in love with one of his closest friends with no way of understanding what it looked like to tell you.

Satoru scratched the side of his chin when he approached you, smile fading due to his inability to properly handle the thoughts that were running through his brain. “So that’s all?”

You pressed your lips together, heart fluttering when his eyes dashed down to your lips then back up to your eyes. “Yes?”

“...And we should just move on from everything that happened last night?”

“I mean, I guess so. Nothing really… happened per say.”

No, nothing happened. Not him pulling you close by your waist, or him calling you pretty, or you calling him love, or him keeping his hands on you in some way the entire time you were with him.

“Okay,” he nodded. “Then I guess you should go get ready for class.”

You hesitated, unable to look away from the boy before you. “…Alright,” you mumbled. You stayed in front of him for one more moment before turning to open the door. Your hand reached for the handle when you paused, something nagging at you, keeping you from leaving though you had been pleading for Satoru to let you go earlier.

“Did you want to talk about something in particular?” you asked quickly when you turned back around. Satoru looked at you befuddled for a moment, then he smiled warmly again.

“Didn’t we just do that?”

“I don’t know, it just seems like there’s something on your mind that you’re not saying.”

“I could say the same thing about you, (Y/n).”

You nibbled on the inside of your cheek, stomach fluttering with butterflies. “…You called me pretty last night.”

Satoru’s smile softened and his expression mellowed out, cheeks tinting a light pink. “Because you are.”

“But… did you say that, like- cause you were drunk?”

“No, I said it because you’re pretty.”

Your hands flew to your shirt as you twirled the fabric sleeping nervously in your fingers. Satoru’s eyes flickered down at the sight, taking note of all your nervous habits.

“Why did you want me to stay with you last night?”

Satoru sighed, looking down momentarily. “Cause I like having you around,” he told you. “You make me feel safe.”

“I do?” you asked, sounding a tad bit more hopeful than you intended.

“When I’m drunk especially, yeah.”

“And that’s why you always call me when you drink?”

“…I think so,” he said earnestly, a look of severity taking over his previous smile. “I also like the way you look after me. I like how you talk to me.”

“How do I talk to you?”

“Like we’re something more than friends,” he blurted out and your eyes went wide. Satoru didn’t take long to mimic your reaction, his own eyes widening when he registered his own words.

He clenched and unclenched his hands at his sides, knocking them against his legs awkwardly.

“Sorry, I guess I just…” he narrowed his brows and looked away from you nervously. You had never seen this side of Satoru before, the way he fidgeted anxiously and avoided the eye contact with you that he always sought. “I don’t know.”

“I always take care of you when you drink because I like doing it,” you confessed abruptly, catching Satoru’s immediate attention. “I like feeling like you need me sometimes.”

Satoru gave you a perplexed look. “What do you mean?”

“You know… in school, you don’t exactly need my help or anyone else’s at that matter. You’re the strongest. If the only time you need me is when you drink, then I’ll gladly help just to feel like I can do something for you.”

The blue eyed seventeen year old clenched his jaw as he took in your words, having never known that you felt that way. “I don’t just need you when I drink, (Y/n),” he said lowly. “That’s not how I view you at all.”

You shuffled slightly on your feet. “Okay…” you trailed off. “Then how do you view me?”

Satoru scratched the back of his head. For the first time, you could see the way he flustered before you when he was sober, exhibiting similar mannerisms as the boy who could only speak in slurred gibberish, the same behaviors that you had believed to only be displayed when he didn’t know what he was saying or doing.

“I can’t put it into words,” he started. “All I know is that I start to lose my mind when you get so soft with me. I don’t want you to stop doing that. I never wanted that to just be something you do when I’m drunk.”

Was this… a confession?

Your entire body was tingling as the two of you watched each other with bright eyes and heated faces, unsure of really what to say but with a million words desperately clawing to break free after having been concealed for so long. You didn’t know what to think. Your mind didn’t want to fall for what Satoru appeared to be saying to you, but your heart was thrashing, jumping and bursting with every glimmer in the boy’s clear eyes and the freshness in his gentle, honest tone.

“What does that mean?” you asked stupidly, mind a blur.

An ocean haze melted over you. Satoru knew it was dumb to let himself fall so easily in this world of curses, in this world where he remained at the top while everyone else including you watched from the bottom, but he didn’t care. He should’ve thought more about the risks, but he couldn’t.

All he could think about was how he never wanted to live in a world without you by his side. Selfishly, he loved you. Selfishly, he clinged to you like a boy to his childhood crush.

You didn’t notice how he ended up directly in front of you, looking down at you from inches away. This felt so strange to you, examining him in such a light that wasn’t dimmed by a drunken stupor.

Satoru looked down, slowly, hesitantly reaching out to grab your forearm gently. You allowed him, his slender fingers wrapping over your wrist and sliding down to your palm, cupping your hand gently within his. His skin was hot, thumb swiping over the back of your hand as he stared intently at the motion.

“Answer my question for real now,” he whispered, looking up at you. “Tell me why you always look after me.”

Your breath hitched in your throat. You almost felt intoxicated yourself, captured by Satoru’s touch and gaze in the light of day. “Because… I…”

Satoru’s head ducked down gradually, the movement so slow it was hard to even notice. Against your mind, your body was moving along with him, chin tilting up shyly as the warmth of his hand and his eyes on yours and his voice asking you why you loved him melted your resolve.

The air stilled, time ticking closer and closer toward your next class, but you had completely forgotten and Satoru couldn’t have cared less as his face neared yours just as it had that night, lids lowering over lazy eyes as he tugged your hand closer to him, leading you to take a few careful steps further in.

You had loved Satoru for as long as you’d known him, as your friend, as a person, as a sorcerer, and as something beyond that. You never believed your feelings to be reciprocated, for there was only one Satoru Gojo, and he was granted with the gift of everything. As a boy with everything, you did not think that there was anything more your feelings could give him. Not when you were one of many who loved him, and he was the only one of himself.

Nevertheless, you never considered the fact that the strongest boy could have separated you from everyone else, could have viewed you as the only one of yourself. You never even bothered to entertain the idea that you were as special to him as he was to the world.

Your lips were touching his lightly before you could further ponder anything else, soft lips pressing into each other carefully as though the two of you were afraid to push any further. At the moment of contact, you shivered, eyes fluttering closed as the world around you bursted into color.

The two of you pulled away with a soft smack as quickly as you had kissed, looking at each other with shocked discovery, read beaten faces, and dancing hearts.

Satoru wasn’t drunk, but he stared at you as though he was, pupils wide and eyes full.

Eventually, he grinned, shiny teeth bearing and eyes crinkling as he lifted his hand to the side of your face, giddy and buzzing with teenage fervor. “Well?” he pushed, referring to the still unanswered question that lingered in the air.

You blinked, still stunned by what had just taken place as Satoru beamed down at you cheekily. You let out a short amused, nervous breath, corners of your mouth curling with a stunned half smile.

“Because I like you, you idiot,” you sighed and he laughed, pushing himself forward to bump your forehead into his.

“Thank god,” he chuckled, and suddenly, you were giggling along with him, shaky and happy and woozy with delight.

The two of you, naturally, missed all of your classes that day having spent your time within each other’s company, making up for lost time, exchanging once-secret stories of hidden affections, and making fun of each other for failing to see just how infatuated with one another the two of you had always been, kissing, cuddling, hugging, smiling.

You were met with a series of missed calls from Suguru and Shoko followed by a rather intense ass-beating/lecture from Yaga once the day had come to an end, Shoko and Suguru watching from nearby, but it was worth it to finally know that those intimacies shared during nights full of drunken were the manifestations of true, real, harbored feelings.

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fanfic #anime #jjk #jjk fandom #jjk season 2 #gojo x reader #jjk x you #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #satoru gojo #satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x y/n #satoru gojo fluff #gojo saturo

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kvrokasaa · 8 months

Text

The morning after

includes: Nagi, Kaiser, Alexis, Oliver

Requests are open :)

gn!reader. no pronouns mentioned.

cw: Suggestive, mention of sex, pet names, forced plot.

Seishiro Nagi

The warmth of the sunlight beaming through the curtains is what stirred you awake. A quiet groan climbed its way up your throat as you turned to hide your face in the comfort of your pillows.

You stretched your hand out to grab the spare blanket but it landed on something else. You felt hair? Your eyes shot open. A person is lying next to you.

You rubbed your eyes and blinked through the blur from the action. As you woke up a little more, you realized that it was Nagi.

He hummed and stretched his arm out, snaking it around your waist and pulling you back down to the bed. "'m tired." You wanted to laugh at how he doesn't seem to care about the situation you both are in, but you just kept quiet.

You pulled up the blanket. A blush climbed its way onto your cheeks as you let the blanket fall back over your bodies.

You're both naked. How did this happen?

You shook Nagi, trying to wake him up. "Sei. What the hell is going on?" He only groaned and shifted, making his way on top of you. His head on your chest and his arms around your waist.

"What does it look like?" The only answer you get from him is a sarcastic one. His voice is deep and raspy with a tone of humor. "Just go back to sleep."

Micheal Kaiser

You groan when you hear the sound of running water from your bathroom. You're about to rush out of bed and see what the hell is going on. But before you can, you feel the sheets rub against your naked nipple.

You gasp as you pull the blanket up, you're completely naked. How? You don't tend to sleep naked, so how did you manage to get your clothes off?

You get up, grab the sheet wrapping it around your body, and make your way to the bathroom. The water isn't on anymore, it turned off a few minutes ago. As you open the door, you see a person in your bathroom.

You're tempted to scream, to slam the door and rush to the front and call the cops. But after opening the door even more, you see the blond hair (can't forget the blue ends). You almost sigh in relief.

You clear your throat and Kaiser turns around, smiling at you. "Good morning, I'm sure you missed me." His smile grows bigger as he walks to you, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

You can feel your life drain just by being next to him, did you really have to sleep with the most self-centered guy out there? What is wrong with drunk you?

"Knock it off, Kaiser," you roll your eyes at his words. "What are you doing here." Aren't one-night stands supposed to leave after the sex? Do they usually take residence in your bathroom? You almost want to say this out loud, but you know that he'll throw a little fit.

"Mm, just getting ready for my game, Meine Süße." He turns back around and faces the mirror. His hand reaches out for the hairbrush and you almost want to knock it out of his hand.

"Every goal will be for you," he starts while he runs the brush through his hair. "So you better be there, cheering the loudest for me, Meine Süße." You almost want to roll your eyes, but you're sure you've rolled them more than you can count this morning.

"Just get dressed and get out of my house." Hopefully, Kaiser can't see the red on your ears when you make your way back to your bedroom.

Alexis Ness

If only you could kill your alarm, but that would be killing your phone and you do not have enough money to buy a new one. You blindly feel your way to your phone. Once you do, you squint and press the snooze. You'll wake up later.

"Better wake up now, don't want to sleep too late." A cheerful voice almost shouted, his voice bouncing off your walls.

Your eyes shot open as you quickly sat up. Your blanket falls down from the action which reveals your naked chest. If your eyes widened anymore, you'd be gawking at the man standing in front of your bed.

You hurriedly grab your blanket and wrap it around your naked torso. Alexis smiles and pushes a strand of your hair behind your ear. He leans down and kisses your neck, making his way up to your ear.

He nibbles on your earlobe, licking a tiny bit. "Gonna give me another show?" He teases as he whispers in your ear.

Alexis pulls back and hums at your reddened face. He turns around and faces your body-length mirror.

Now you actually have a reason to gawk. His back is covered in red scratches, from his neck to his torso. You almost gasped, did you do that?

He sees your widened eyes staring at his back, his smile growing bigger. "Like it~? It might be your best artwork."

You never thought Alexis would be one to tease. But here you are, getting teased by the one man that keeps your sanity in check.

You almost want to laugh at the drastic change in him. Compared to how he acts on the field and now, in your bedroom.

"I'm going to get us some breakfast," he turns back to you and kisses your forehead. "I'll see you in a minute, baby."

The name makes you blush. Your eyes follow him out as he leaves your bedroom. Your sigh finally leaves your mouth, this man will be the death of you.

Oliver Aiku

Your yawn was quiet as you stretched your arms. Your hand flopped onto the bed as you turned your body to nuzzle deeper into your pillows.

"Ow! What the fuck, Y/n?"

You opened your eyes and saw Oliver resting on the other side of your bed. His hand is covering his nose from where your hand lightly slapped him.

"Mmh, good morning, Oliver." This isn't new. He usually sleeps over after 'fucking your brains out,' his words. After another failed talking stage or relationship, Oliver comes over and is reminded that there's someone who will actually give him the time or day.

He softly glares at you. You want to scoff at the glare, he should be grateful that you keep opening your door for him. Your hand comes up and taps his nose.

"Boop." He scrunches his face as he gently slaps your hand away. "Enough," he takes a deep breath. His body shifts and his legs tangle into yours. He climbs on top of you, his smirk spreading onto his face.

You roll your eyes, leaning your head back as Oliver reaches forward to kiss you. "Morning breath," you sigh. "Brush your teeth."

He only scoffs. Oliver pulls away and grabs your hand, leading you both to the bathroom. "I might be catching feelings for you, doll."

He laughs when he sees you roll your eyes. "Keep it at might."

You hope he can't hear the way your heart beats faster at the thought.

a/n: I love Alexis <3 I was giggling and kicking my feet when I saw him in the manga again

#alexis ness #alexis ness x reader #bllk fluff #michael kaiser #bllk smut #bllk x you #bllk x reader #bllk #oliver aiku #michael kaiser x reader #bllk kaiser #bluelock #kaiser x reader #kaiser smut #nagi seishiro smut #nagi seishiro #seishiro nagi x reader #seishiro smut #aiku x reader

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nadvs · 7 months

Text

cam girl (part five)

pairing rafe cameron x female reader

rating explicit 18+

summary you work two jobs. by day, you’re a maid for the cameron household, where rafe degrades you any chance he can get. by night, you’re a cam girl, hiding your face so nobody can recognize you. when you discover your new subscriber, the filthy-mouthed man obsessively paying you to do everything he can think of, is rafe, you’re not sure what to do next.

» masterlist

+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

You were too tired to wake up to your alarm. You snoozed for an extra hour under a mountain of blankets, drifting in and out of consciousness.

When you finally feel ready to start your Sunday, it’s almost 10, and your mind slowly pieces together everything that happened last night.

Rafe has become your sugar daddy. There’s no doubt about it, no other word for it. At this point, you’re sure he’s given you almost ten grand.

You remain lying in bed and pick up your phone to see he texted you five minutes ago. After the $3000 transfer last night, you had quickly saved his number.

Rafe: sore?

You reply: as fuck.

Rafe: you loved it

You roll your eyes. Of course you loved it.

You think of the way he spoke to you, mumbling that you’re beautiful and praising the sounds you made. The way he thrusted into you and called your pussy so fucking perfect. The way his skin slapped against yours with his rough jolts. Remembering it makes your stomach twist with arousal.

You reply: so did you

Your phone buzzes again.

Rafe: send an ass pic

You: are you always horny?

Rafe: pretty much. woke up hard

You: and i’m the needy one… lmao

Rafe: are u sending it or not

You smile to yourself at how bad he wants you. You push the blankets off your body. You had fallen asleep in a cold room, your radiator refusing to come back to life no matter how hard you tried, so you’re covered head to toe under fleece pajamas.

The way Rafe reacted to your heat being broken replays in your mind. He seemed so dumbfounded by the idea that you couldn’t just fix something without worrying about the cost.

Then he sent you the exact amount you need to fix it. The fact that you can ask for however much you want and he’ll probably send it without hesitation still throws you for a loop. It’s an odd feeling not having to worry about money.

Thankfully, the morning sun has warmed up your bedroom. You pull your pants and underwear down in one smooth movement, turn onto your front and angle your phone camera.

You can smell Rafe on your pillow. The aroma of his cologne is so unbelievably nice, memories already connected to it.

You lie on your back again, pulling the blanket over you, and send him the photo, a low angle image of your naked asscheeks. You gaze at your screen, anticipating what he’ll say.

But he doesn’t send any words. Just a picture. Your eyes travel over the bulge making a tent in his black boxer briefs. You can see the trail of soft, light hair that leads down to his cock.

Your body tightens at the image. He felt so damn good last night. You can’t wait until the next time he’s inside you.

You text: wish u were here?

Rafe: i’d fuck u even harder than i did last night

You: you wouldn’t make me wait hours for it? wow…

Rafe: you’re so wet right now aren’t you

You can imagine the way he’d say that. He’s so smug. And so right. You dip a hand below the blanket between your legs, your soft folds drenched.

maybe, you reply.

Rafe: you took my cock so good

You bite your lip reading his words. The photo of his covered erection isn’t enough. You need more.

You: show me it

Rafe: you’d like that huh

You: i can just find some porn if you won’t do it

Rafe: don’t even fucking joke about getting off to some other guy’s dick

You smirk. You got to him like you hoped you would.

You: what? i can’t tease you too?

Rafe: no

You: send me a pic then. u know i deserve it

Rafe: only good girls deserve it

You: idk if good girls play with their pussies on camera… maybe i should stop doing that

Rafe: shut up. ur doing it for me every night

He’s so damn worked up that it’s funny. You shrug to yourself, opening another app, letting him sweat.

Your phone buzzes moments later, a notification from him dropping from the top of your screen.

Rafe: ???

You reply: you told me to shut up. i’m listening

He only texts your name.

You: rafe :)

A picture finally comes in. You take in the image of his dick, glad you finally have a chance to appreciate him in brighter lighting. The other photos that he sent over the cam chat were so dark, but now you can see the veins that run down his shaft, the swell of the tip, his large hand gripping the base.

You don’t think you could ever get tired of it.

You: am i allowed to touch myself?

Even through the power struggle between you two, you love giving him the control of when you can orgasm.

Rafe: if you promise me something

You: what?

Rafe: i can watch you play with your asshole tonight

Jesus. He’s unhinged. When he sent that message telling you that you’ll be doing a lot of new things with him, he wasn’t kidding.

The thought of doing this for him is stirring. None of the other guys on cam ever asked for anything like that.

You: i can do that

Rafe: get the toy i bought you. text when ur ready

You drop your phone and rush to find the vibrator, feeling like you’re throbbing now. When you’re all adjusted, you text him: ready.

Your breath hitches as the toy starts to buzz at a brutalizing intensity. You cross your legs, squeeze your chest, and groan as you think about him.

You orgasm within a minute. It feels good, but not as good as when Rafe is actually with you. With him, it’s a new level of ecstasy. Fuck. He may have ruined masturbation for you.

You pick up your phone.

You: might have to go back to sleep after that…

Your phone flashes a notification of $100 being transferred into your digital wallet.

Rafe: order breakfast for yourself

The amount he sent is ridiculous. What kind of place does he get breakfast from?

You doze off again, waking up half an hour later. After ordering food, you send Rafe a screenshot of the confirmation receipt and text: thanks baby <3

Rafe: did u call about the heat yet

You reply: i will

Rafe: do it now

You: bossy

Rafe: now

God, does he love to be in control. You follow his instructions and find the repair place you called last time and make an appointment to get your radiator replaced tomorrow afternoon.

It’s an unreal feeling - your problem being solved in the snap of a finger. This is a little taste of wealth.

You know not to read into it. Rafe’s not doing any of this of the kindness of his heart. Spoiling you is obviously one of the many things he gets off on. But you’re happy to go along with it. Especially considering $3000 is pocket change to this man.

When breakfast is dropped off, you notice a box addressed to you sitting in front of your door. You open it to find a new webcam. Rafe mentioned he’d buy it yesterday. He moves fast.

The day feels long and at 10 pm, you finally log on with the hope that Rafe will do what he did last night and come over instead of making you crave him throughout your session, leaving you to fuck yourself while fantasizing about him.

You’re wearing the ‘princess’ top you bought with his money, matching with pink underwear.

He joins the session and lust fires through you already.

“Hey,” you purr. “How’s the new camera look?”

figure8: much better

figure8 tipped you $100.

“What’s that for?” you giggle.

figure8: for looking so pretty

“Thanks, baby,” you say. “Is this pretty, too?”

You immediately turn onto your knees, looking back at the camera at the sight of your lace panties stretched over your ass.

figure8: goddamn

You smile.

figure8: you get me hard in a fucking second

“Yeah?” you coo. “Did you like my ass pic today?”

figure8: fuck yes. you ever done anal?

You laugh at how direct he is. You never have to wonder what Rafe’s thinking.

You hadn’t gone into that territory, but something about Rafe made you feel adventurous. “No, but maybe I’d try it with you.”

figure8: maybe?

“Depends on your mood,” you say.

figure8: the fuck does that mean

“I had to cum three times for you the other day. But yesterday, you wouldn’t let me do it for fucking hours.” You shrug. “If you make me wait that long again, you’re not getting anything.”

figure8: its honestly really fucking cute how you think you make the rules lol

“Shut up.”

figure8: im not getting anything… sure. i didnt let u cum all day but you were still begging me to fuck you last night

“I hate you,” you laugh.

figure8: you love me and this dick

figure 8: let me see you squeeze your ass

You’re so turned on already, resting your hands on your ass and kneading the flesh. You roam over your skin, fondling and grabbing, then move your fingers to the back of your thighs and bounce your asscheeks for him with your hands.

figure8: fuckkk just like that

“You like these panties?” you ask. The lace leaves nothing to the imagination.

figure8: i wanna see them ripped off

“These were expensive,” you pout.

figure8 tipped you $500.

figure8: there, you can buy more

“God, how much do you think they cost?” you laugh.

figure8: rip them off right now

You dip your fingers beneath the frilly border of the underwear and try to pull them apart. The lace digs into your skin and you finally hear a tear, the fabric giving way.

You watch your image in the screen, the pink lace pulling apart over your asscheeks.

figure8: shake ur ass

You oblige, arching your back, imagining him sitting behind you, big hands on your waist while you writhe and bounce for him.

figure8: let me see ur asshole

The request is probably the most obscene thing he’s ever asked of you. But you like that he does this, that he pushes you into new experiences.

You’re shaking with arousal as you watch yourself obey his orders, spreading open for him.

figure8: holy fucking shit

figure8: i know you’d loooove it up the ass

figure8: get close so i can see you suck on your finger

You’re puzzled at the request, but you obey anyways, turning to face the screen. You shift closer to your laptop and seductively stick your forefinger into your hot mouth, sucking it with quiet moans.

You’re reminded of how he shoved his finger in your mouth last night. Shit, last night was perfect.

figure8: is it nice and wet?

“Mhm.”

figure8: wanna put that finger in your ass for me?

You bite your lip, apprehension inching up your skin. He seems to notice your nervousness.

figure8: nice and slow, baby. you can do it

You nod, turning to spread your ass for him again, then slowly push your digit into your tight hole. You breathe through the pressure, dipping each inch of your finger in with caution, finding pleasure in the new sensation.

figure8: hows it feel?

“Good,” you breathe. You sit up to grab the lube in your nightstand that you bought when you started camming and sit in front of the camera, opening the bottle.

“You want me to try two fingers?” you ask.

figure8: fuck yes

You squeeze the slippery liquid onto your forefinger and middle finger and get onto all fours, angling your ass towards the camera.

When you slip both fingers inside, you arch your back and breathe shakily. Your eyes squeeze shut as you enter your body in a new way for him.

As hot as it is to be doing this for him, now that you’ve had a taste of what it’s like having his body melt into yours, you need him. This just isn’t satisfying enough anymore.

figure8: u like that?

“Mhm,” you moan. “Maybe it’d be better if I try with the dildo?”

You get the reaction you were hoping for.

figure8: the first dick in that ass isn’t gonna be some toy. it’ll be mine, you understand?

“Okay,” you say, brows furrowed, a tone of disappointment in your voice.

figure8: you want it tonight, don’t you?

“Yeah, baby,” you whimper, writhing in anticipation. “I want it tonight.”

figure8 tipped you $1000.

figure8 has left the session.

You smirk to yourself. It seems like this’ll be your and Rafe’s special version of foreplay. Maybe you’ll always begin with a cam show he pays you for, the same way you two started this wild affair, and then he’ll race over and have his way with you.

You decide to pull off your shirt so you can greet him fully naked.

When you hear his knock at the door, your skin prickles with anticipation. Rafe comes in frenzied, slamming the door behind him, grabbing your face in his hands and pushing you back into your bedroom.

“Already naked for me,” he rasps, standing in the middle of your bedroom, holding you, towering over you. “My needy girl.”

“Don’t make me wait any longer, then,” you whisper.

Rafe guides you onto your bed, hovering over top of you, his lips hungrily kissing and sucking on your mouth over and over.

With your back against your sheets, you roll your body beneath his, the sensation of his jeans and t-shirt rubbing on your bare skin wildly sexy.

You swear you can feel his cock jerk under his jeans and you breathe out a contented sigh.

“What?” he asks, pulling back with his forehead still pressed against yours.

“Your cock is twitching,” you tease, slipping your hand under his shirt to feel his hot skin. You pull his shirt off and toss it onto the floor.

Rafe lifts his body slightly and dips his hand between your legs, making you sharply inhale as he spreads your lips apart.

“And you’re so fucking wet,” he replies, like he’s trying to one-up you. You shudder as his fingers run up and down your slit.

He brings his hand up to suck on the tips of his fingers, hard eyes on you, and you feel like you might lose your mind over how hot the shared moment is.

“You taste so good,” he says, voice rough. He comes back down to kiss you hard, then shifts to put his mouth on your tits.

You jerk when he grazes a nipple with his teeth, a moan spilling out of your lips. Your eyes flutter shut, feeling him pinch and grip you.

“I’m gonna fuck you until you can’t walk,” Rafe says against your cleavage. “You want that?”

“Yes, yes, please.”

“My good girl,” he praises. You hear him fumbling with his jeans, the zipper slipping down quickly, and he plunges into you with no warning, with such a rough blow that you whimper.

You feel your body swallow his thickness, stretching to adjust to his size. He curves into you so perfectly.

Rafe pulls back and rocks into you again, your body jolting with his pressure. His chest is pressed against yours and he shifts to the side to put his hand at your throat, long fingers around your neck.

He squeezes gently, still pounding into you.

“Tighter,” you whisper.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he says with a breathy laugh, like he can’t believe that you exist, that you’re taking him like this.

His fingers tighten on the sides of your neck as the sound of smacking flesh fills your bedroom. You grunt with every heavenly pump he gives you, his balls swinging against your ass.

“You take it so good,” he breathes. You tilt your head back, letting his big hand grip your neck better. You’re so grateful he didn’t torment you by making you wait this time.

“Get on top,” Rafe groans into your ear, drawing out of you. “I wanna watch you ride me.”

His hands find your hips as he helps pull you over him. With your palms against his firm pecs, you sink onto him, his cock hitting a new angle.

“Fuck,” you choke out. “Oh, my God, Rafe.”

“You like that, huh, baby?” he says, dimples framing his cocky smile.

You start to bounce with your legs bent and framing his torso, leaning forward so your clit rubs around the base of his cock. The feeling of him filling you and the friction against your sensitive spot makes your eyes roll back in your head.

Your heart starts to pound harder as you massage yourself with his dick, grinding at the perfect pace. You look down at him, meeting his blue eyes, as you roll your hips so you can feel him in every possible way.

You dip your head, panting and moaning as he grips your hips. You’ve never wanted to scream from pleasure so badly.

“I know, princess,” he drawls. “I know it feels good.”

The waves of pleasure are so damn nice that you moan and cover your mouth with your hand so your neighbors don’t hear how loud you’re being.

Rafe roughly grabs your wrist and pulls your hand down.

“Don’t do that,” he instructs.

“My neighbors-“

“Let ‘em hear how much you love this dick,” he says. You feel like you could cum from his words alone.

“F-fuck,” you stammer, grinding faster and harder. “Oh, fuck.”

“You gonna cum?” he teases. A part of you is afraid he’ll push himself out of you, delay your orgasm.

“Please let me,” you whine, “please, baby.”

“I’ll let you,” Rafe says with an amused chuckle. “God, you’re my fucking dream girl.”

The pleasure spikes in you so damn high that you feel your limbs go numb. You cry out as you dissolve into pleasure in its purest form, continuing to ride him as the orgasm hits you, tightening around him in pulses.

“There you go,” he says soothingly, encouragingly.

You bend over on top of him, resting your cheek on his chest, hearing his heart. Rafe’s warm hand strokes up and down your back as you spasm on top of him.

As your gasps slow down, his hands find your ass. He jiggles your cheeks in his hands and you giggle breathily.

“You gonna let me cum in that ass?” he asks you.

“You can cum anywhere you want,” you breathe, feeling cockdrunk. Rafe’s chest rumbles with his laugh.

You sit up and slowly pull yourself off of him, his hard cock bobbing once it’s out of you.

Even though you’re sure you already made his cock wet enough, you hand him the bottle of lube before getting on all fours on your bed. You look back at him to see him slathering his cock with lube.

“I’ll go slow, princess,” he promises. “I’ll stretch you out first.”

You squeeze your pillow and place it so that you can sink your face into it as he fucks you. With your head dug into the soft cotton, you feel Rafe’s big hands grope your ass.

He spreads your cheeks apart and groans.

“Every part of you is so pretty,” he huffs. “You gonna take my cock in any hole I want, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” you moan, muscles still weak from your orgasm.

You feel a finger slowly enter you and you arch your back, eyes squeezing shut. It’s so new but so fucking nice. The pressure is higher than when you did it on camera for him, his finger bigger than yours.

“There you go,” he coaches as he pushes deeper inside of you. “Shit, it’s so fucking tight. I’m gonna cum in a second, baby, I know it.”

“Fuck, Rafe,” you mumble. “It feels amazing.”

He adds a second finger, working in and out to stretch you out some more. You push back against his fingers to encourage him to go deeper.

“I want to fuck your ass so hard right now,” he groans on the verge of a whine.

“Do it,” you say. “I’m ready. Do it.”

His fingers pull out of you and you feel him spit on you, warm saliva dribbling over your opening. Finally, you feel the tip of his cock start to push into your ass.

The pressure stings as he buries into you and you try not to slump, you try to stay firm for him.

“Oh, my God,” he moans as he fills you. “Fucking… Oh, my fuck…”

His raw, untamed rambling gives you a sense of willpower to stay still and ignore your body’s impulse to pull away from the unfamiliar pain.

Rafe finally presses his base against your ass, filling your hole up completely.

He retreats, giving you some relief, then pounds into you again. The feeling is a good pain as he starts to thrash in and out, his fingers so tight on your hips that you know he’ll bruise you.

He pulls away a hand and you suddenly feel a hard smack on your ass that makes you gasp. He keeps fucking you hard, plunging in and out with a frenzied pace.

“You like it, princess?” he says between breaths. “You like it up the ass? I was right, wasn’t I?”

“Yes,” you groan, the feeling pleasurable now that you’re getting used to it. “Yes. Yes. Yes.”

“It’s not just your pussy that’s mine, is it?” he taunts. “It’s your ass. Your mouth. Your tits. All of you. Fucking all of you.”

His claim of ownership on you is so fucking intoxicating that you almost forget all this is supposed to be is hot, casual sex.

You push away the thought, refusing to let it ruin things. This is just fun. This is all this is.

“Goddamn, and you were just…” he groans as he keeps fucking you. “You were just… fuck, just always around and looking so fucking hot. I never thought I’d get to fuck you.”

You bite your lip at his words, lost in the feeling of a man wanting you this bad. Of Rafe wanting you this bad. You knew he loved to tease you, but shit, he was yearning for you this much whenever you came to clean his house?

“Oh, fuck…” Rafe’s deep voice gives out as you feel him pulse his hot cum into you, his body jerking against you.

He eventually slowly pulls out and you feel his hand slowly rub over the curve of your ass.

“Stay like this,” he says. “I wanna watch my cum drip out of you.” Just when you think he can’t get any filthier, Rafe surprises you. Every damn time.

Once he’s satisfied, you feel him plant a kiss on your ass before he shifts away to put on his underwear.

Your smile is slack as you drop onto your side, hand resting on your forehead. You feel utterly fucked out. He didn’t lie. You won’t be able to walk tomorrow. You watch his chest rise and fall when he lies down next to you.

Again, Rafe surprises you that he’s staying, even if it’s just a little while. He seems like such a fuck and chuck kind of guy. It’s what you expected. Kind of what you welcomed.

He looks at you, amused by how hard you’re gasping for breath.

“Damn, you won’t even need your heat on tonight, huh?” Rafe says. “Gave you a whole fucking workout.”

“If it’ll be like this every night, I’ll cancel,” you joke lazily.

“Cancel?”

“Mhm,” you say tiredly, eyes closing.

“What do you mean?”

“What do you mean?” you whisper.

He says your name stern enough that you pop open your eyes.

“I’ll cancel the appointment,” you clarify.

“They didn’t already fix it?”

“Tomorrow was the soonest they could do.” His brows furrow in what looks like anger. You can’t help but chuckle a little. “What’s the big deal?”

“So, you spend another night cold?”

“It’s not that bad,” you say. “I have lots of blankets… and…” You yawn. “A space heater… and… my pajamas…”

You realize you’re lying on top of a thin sheet completely naked but you’re too exhausted to care that you’ll wake up cold. It’s like Rafe fucked the energy out of you.

“I have to lock the door behind you,” you remember. You sit up, rubbing your eyes so you stay alert. “I don’t know if you realized but this isn’t a gated community.”

“Should I… uh, do you want a hotel room or something?” Rafe asks.

You look at him, his head on your pillow, his hair a mess, and offer him a confused smile.

“Hotel?” you repeat.

“If it’s gonna be cold in here.”

“Oh, that radiator has broken a million times,” you say. “I’ve survived a lot of cold nights. I don’t need a penthouse suite.”

Rafe gazes at you with an indistinguishable look.

You feel a bit awkward now. You know he’ll leave eventually, but if he doesn’t do it now, you’ll pass out and he’ll leave the door unlocked.

You stand to keep yourself awake, finding a clean pair of underwear and an oversized t-shirt.

“Same time tomorrow?” you try to joke.

“I can stay and…” he says. He sits up, his hair falling over his forehead, his stomach flexing. “Uh, I can… hold you. If you want. So you’re not cold.”

You stand in the middle of your small room, looking down at Rafe, and can’t help but notice how out of place he looks. His large, half-naked frame on your small double bed, his expensive clothes drawn out on your squeaky, scratched up floor, offering to cuddle you to sleep.

This is supposed to be purely sexual. You’ve been having fun and adding to your bank account, while letting him live out his fantasies to sexually and financially dominate the help. That’s all you are to him: a depraved cam girl who cleans his house. Right?

But now, he’s acting… well, nice. Like he’s not just a fuck buddy who gets turned on by giving you money and buying you things. And it’s unexpected.

You’re not sure what to do.

{ read part six here }

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