#Of straight out fluff and cuteness | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lokissweater · 6 months ago

Note

hey i really really love your fics and the way you write youre so talented! ive been searching for a virgin!yuji x virgin!reader for so long and my life would literally be urs if you wrote this. if not no worries, i totally get it.

sending love! - anon

OH THIS IDEA IS HOOOOTTTTT AND U BEST BELIEVE IM ALL OVER IT!! thank you for your sweet words and for sending in a request!! i hope you like it!! :] <333

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oh my god, pretty!

{yuji itadori x f!reader}

summary: your relationship with yuji was semi new and cute, you both absolutely adoring the fuck out of one another since the moment you met. one thing you have in common though? you’re both loser virgins with absolutely no experience whatsoever, and on one night where you’re both innocently cuddling on the couch watching a movie— yuji goes NUTS.

warnings: MDNI. college!au, afab!reader, SMUT, p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it ya’ll), accidental creampie LOL, yuji is a little perv, smut with barely any plot she goes straight to the good stuff, cursing, pet names, fluff, FILTHYYYY this is filthy, all characters are aged up.

word count: 3.9k

authors note: PHEEWWWW THIS ONE HAD ME MEOWING LIKE A KITTY CAT AND I HOPE YALL MEOW WITH ME!!! thank you for your support always, that is an absolute given, i love you and i love you forever. MWAAAHHHH <3333

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“are you okay baby?”

no you were not.

because yuji was in a black tight compression tee and pj’s while you both were watching a movie together and cuddling on your living room couch, the sleeves of his shirt accentuating his biceps and the rest of it squeezing over his pecs and torso, the brightness of your tv illuminating all of his sharp handsome features that had you gnawing at your nails in a nervous fit— him looking at you with pinched eyebrows.

yuji and you had just started dating a couple of months ago— his lively overly friendly personality winning you over without really much effort at all, and your genuine sweet one catching his heart the minute he saw you come into one of his lectures last year, looking soul killingly beautiful and radiant, the both of you befriending each other quickly as your interests aligned.

and you started hanging out on and off campus a lot more frequently after that— gradually falling more and more in love until yuji finally gathered up his jumpy nerves and asked you to be his girlfriend.

there was a problem though.

neither of you had had sex before, or had done anything in between the lines with other people before you got together.

it was the first thing that yuji worried about when he first started dating you— embarrassed and afraid that you would think he was a big fat loser with no game and that he would potentially run the risk of losing you, you maybe preferring a man of experience to match your own needs.

but when he admitted that to you, and when you shook your worried little head and told him you were in the same exact boat as him, he was fucking elated— his apprehensions crumbling down like a landslide and replaced instead with the giddiness of getting to do stuff with you for the first time ever, and him being the man (the only man ever he hoped) to get to do it to you.

but then there was another problem.

neither of you seemed to want to start anything, the both of you hesitant and scared because of your lack of experience— petrified of humiliating yourselves if one of you tried and pathetically failed at it or did something incorrectly.

“mhm! fine.” you smiled sweetly, your calm voice a completely different contrast to what was currently happening inside your reeling fuzzy brain.

you had both definitely talked about it, the subject of intimacy. but it was always something that the two of you reassured each other would happen eventually when you were both ready, that there was no rush— choosing to brush the subject off like it was nothing.

except it wasn’t nothing. it was never nothing. and you were both way past fucking ready, especially yuji, him practically ripping apart at the seams with horn dog need anytime he saw you wear those little skirts that you like so much, or whenever you’d straddle his lap during one of your daily makeout sessions— his hands literally trembling over your ass in attempts at being respectful of pretty ol’ you, settling for placing them on your upper back instead.

and you would internally pout, disappointed, because you always without fail noticed all of this yet you were too shy to mention anything or do something about it on your own.

“you sure?” he asked softly. “you look like you’re thinking about something.”

he raised a hand and gently poked your cheek repeatedly with his index finger, a silly smile on his face. “tell me baby tell me baby tell me baby—”

you giggled, “i’m okay! just zoned out.” you pushed his finger away, leaning up and pressing a quick shy kiss to his cheek that made him instantly flush pink in return, a wobbly smile spreading across his face.

in the midst of you retreating back to your previous position, yuji caught your chin with his fingers and turned you to look at him, your cheeks blushing as he stared at you with lovesick dreamy eyes.

“can we— um.” his gaze flickered to your lips. “can we make out.”

your eyes widened slightly and your hands grew clammy fast, cheeks buzzing as you stared back at him.

since making out was the only thing you both properly conquered, it happened almost every single time you saw each other, the act practically filling in and making up for the more lewd exchanges you both were missing out on, your kisses always sloppy and messy but heated— though each time it came around to it you were often just as nervous as the first time.

“s—sure!” you stammered. “you don’t have to ask me yuji… you can just— y’know… do it..”

he bit his tongue, your timidness for some fucking reason sending a shock of arousal through his veins and straight down to his dick as he tried his best to swallow it and not make it obvious for you.

“okay!”

he brought your face closer then and kissed you, a solid one at first, until you slowly parted your lips and ushered him in, deeper, your body moving closer to his on its own as he immediately responded with placing a hand on your leg to throw it over his lap, your mouths wet and slippery as he properly settled you to sit on him.

you wrapped your arms around his neck, the movie drowned out completely in the background as a sequence of lip smackings echoed throughout the room, yuji’s hands on your upper back like always as you continued to make out… until you felt a little stinging cramp in your knee— moving your hips a little bit to readjust, utterly unaware of how you accidentally applied pressure over yuji’s crotch as he sucked in a breath through his nose and pulled away.

“fuck don’t do that baby don’t do that.”

you froze, hands quickly retracting back to your chest. “what? what do what?”

“oh—” he froze, eyes wide and cheeks pink as his mouth opened and closed like a fishy out of water.

he couldn’t possibly tell you why, not wanting to scare you away by admitting that you grinding down on his crotch like that made his dick jerk and mind haze in the most filthy and perverted way imaginable, feeling like he wanted to dig himself a big fat grave of horny shame to throw himself into as he watched your pretty eyes look at him the way that they were, wanting that same look but underneath him instead—

your bent knee cramped up once more and you hissed, moving your hips again except this time harder, yuji’s eyes flying open as the grip around your upper torso tightened, a strangled whiny hum escaping his throat.

your eyes snapped to his at the sound, now feeling something hard poking your clothed pussy as your brain finally put fucking two and two together, your hand slapping over your mouth in embarrassment at what you did and over your stupid delayed realization.

“oh! yuji i’m so sorry i— i didn’t realize—”

he shook his head rapidly, his cheeks and ears red as he shakily smoothed his hands over your hips comfortingly.

“no baby! don’t be sorry it’s okay!” he quickly kissed your forehead. “i—it’s me… it’s not you at all…”

but there was something else behind his eyes, something you couldn’t quite pinpoint as he just stared at the place where your body met his crotch, hands slowly gripping your hips tighter in a certain way and… and actually moving you now in a certain way that made you promptly realize he was grinding you against him, pleasure quickly twitching at your clit in response as flat hands flew to his chest to stabilize yourself.

“what— what are you doing?” you stammered, your chest heaving a little.

“s—sorry!…” he mumbled, eyes still trained to the same area. “it just— felt kind of good… so..”

yuji peered up at you, a cautious look on his face as he eyed you curiously with his pinky cheeks bright— hesitantly indulging in his overwhelming sick need for you, as simply making out was just not cutting it anymore ever since he got a taste of how something like this could feel a couple of seconds ago.

and your thoughts were identical to his.

timidly, you slid your hands up slowly to rest back on his manly shoulders, the rough material of his compression tee under your fingers making you literally squeeze your hole around nothing, eyes nervously darting around his face.

“o—okay…”

his hand came up to brush some of your soft hair over your shoulder, his thumb moving in to caress gently over your hot cheek.

“can i… can i do it again?”

you shakily nodded, and he gripped your hips again before moving you just like he did before, your crotch coming down to meet his slowly and cautiously as your mouth partially hung open at how good it actually felt, yuji staring at your expression with blown out pupils and nearly drooling over it.

but he wanted more, his hands moving you then to grind on him a little faster, his hips coming up to meet yours at the same time as you shyly met him halfway— quick and stuttery until all of a sudden you were full blown humping into each other like rabid dogs, your tiny whiny moans setting him the fuck off as he captured your lips again to make out with you, fearing if he let you quietly moan like that for his ears to selfishly drink up that he was going to end up busting in his pants.

“y—yuji…” you whimpered in between kisses.

“yeah baby?” his husky voice sent another electrical shock of ecstasy through your body, your fingers gripping his shirt in tiny fists as you didn’t even know what exactly you were pleading him for.

but he knew.

he wrapped his arms entirely around you and moved so that you were laying flat on your back now, yuji in between your legs as he kissed you sloppily while grinding himself back on you again, him literally mimicking how it would be to fuck you as you squeezed his biceps for support, your thin pajama shorts feeling his hard cock bulging from his pj pants and rutting against your cunt desperately with every hump.

yuji, literally trapped in a dimension of arousal and nasty fucking thoughts of you with every moan that slipped past your puffy soft lips, had him reaching and tugging down on the waist band of your shorts like an animal, your baby blue panties with a little ribbon bow in the middle making him nearly choke on his spit.

your hand quickly came to clasp around his wrist, stopping him.

“y—yuji my parents! i don’t know if we should—”

“oh fuck—” he whispered, looking up to the top of your staircase and down where your parents were sound asleep, gnawing so much on his bottom lip in cock blocked agony that he accidentally drew blood.

and you didn’t know why, but the urge was unforgiving as you reached up and cupped his hot sweaty cheeks, pulling his face down as you stuck your tongue out and licked over his bleeding lip.

yuji stared, eyes wide, before he let out a low guttural grown and shoved his face into the crook of your neck.

“fuck fuck fuck fuck—”

you were fucking killing him.

he rolled his leaky cock slowly into you again, his shoulders trembling at the cold feeling of his wet boxers that were literally covered in pre cum the moment your pretty plush thighs sat over his lap, you speaking up.

“m—maybe—”

he pulled back fast.

“yeah?”

“maybe if you just— look. that… that should be fine, right?”

“yeah yeah!” yuji’s invisible tail was practically wagging over your words. “look uh huh! just look baby.”

you bit your lip, slowly reaching down and tugging as both of yuji’s hands went flying down to help you, pulling them over your thighs and down to your ankles before setting them behind him on the couch with a soft thud.

you kept your thighs closed, shy and timid as you realized yuji hadn’t seen you like this yet… your cheeks flaring in embarrassment as he pulled your knees apart and gawked at the vision before him, yuji looking at you like you had built the entirety of rome by yourself with your bare hands.

you hadn’t noticed yet, but your panties were drenched— a patch of wet spread over your lips that literally outlined the anatomy of your pussy to a t, leaving little to the imagination as his eyes stayed locked on your clit in a complete trance.

“oh my god, pretty!…” he murmured, his index finger coming down to softly touch and rub your puffed up clit over your panties, you squeaking in response and slamming your thighs closed again.

“sorry! sorry!” he sputtered, frantic as he came down to peck little kisses on your cheek apologetically, your eyes shut, bashful. “did that hurt? i didn’t mean to i’m sorry—”

“n—no!” you shook your head and slowly peeked your eyes open. “it didn’t… just felt s—sensitive.”

his shoulders relaxed in relief, nodding, his eyes widening in delight when you spread your legs back open for him again, your panties literally stuck slick to your pussy at this point.

yuji’s fingers pressed against your folds, him wanting to just feel the way your little wet lips mushed up against his digits, his curious hand directing him slowly up over your clit and back down by your virgin hole as he breathed hard through his nose, trying to get himself to calm the fuck down over your cunt and not freak you out.

but what he was doing felt good, him having no idea as you pulled your bottom lip in between your teeth with your eyebrows screwed together in euphoria, his ears perking up at the sounds of your sweet little moans and whines the more pressure he applied to it.

and then he got an idea.

as you were distracted getting riled up by his fingers, yuji shoved his other hand under his wet pajama pants and boxers, pulling out his throbbing cock and pumping it a little as his angry tip leaked with every jerk— a drop oozing down and landing right on your nub before rolling over your panties as he breathed out a string of hushed curses.

yuji replaced the hand on your pussy with his cock, his length and tip pushing up in between your sopping cunt and back down, completely soiling your panties with a mix of your arousal and his pre cum as he rolled his hips into you again, you not noticing at all until both of his rough hands came to grip and squeeze over your inner thighs, your eyes fluttering open as you wondered why it felt way better than before, them bulging once you saw his thick long dick slipping and sliding hurriedly against your pussy.

“b—baby!” you moaned breathlessly, but yuji literally could not hear you as his dazed droopy eyes stayed focused on your swollen puss while he continued to rut.

“uh huh..?..” he panted. “what’s wrong sweetheart…”

your words lodged themselves in the back of your throat as a particular rough thrust made you choke and clamp your mouth shut, squeezing your eyes shut in response with your sensitive nub pulsing as you felt yuji’s leaky sticky cum all over you.

“does it— does it feel good?” his eyes finally trailed up to look at you, his already fucked out expression and flushed face forming a yummy pit in your stomach that you recognized as your release whenever you fingered yourself, except that feeling no where near as good as what you felt right fucking now.

“mhm..” you moaned and licked your lips.

yuji’s fingers slid up from your inner thighs and to the straps of your panties, fiddling and playing with them as he rolled his hips like a little perv, his tip at times falling and literally sinking into your gaping virgin hole a bit— your panties a thin stretchy wall that frustratingly stopped his cock from going, slipping back upward instead.

“baby…” he moaned lowly, whispering. “maybe we should just have sex right now…”

you gasped. “right now?! i don’t know yuji my— my parents— and we’ve never—”

he leaned down and sloppily kissed you, speaking in between each smack.

“they’re asleep it’s—” mmphf— “it’s okay—”

yuji already had his middle finger hooked under your wet panties as he started pulling down, you squeaking at the cold breeze hitting your bare clit.

“i want to but— hic!”

he rubbed his tip over your entrance a bit, pooling your juice up.

“what if— what if we get too loud? and they come downstairs—”

he shook his head. “i’ll keep on a lookout pretty don’t worry about it...” he murmured. “you just relax while i pump my cock in, yeah?”

you whimpered, nodding quickly and pathetically as you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down flush against your chest, suctioning tiny sucks on his jaw to keep you from moaning the loudest you’ve moaned all night as he started pushing in, yuji’s mind in a literal fucking state of delirium as his dick was finally gonna be buried in your cute pussy after wanting it for so long.

you hiccuped against his jaw, your arms gripping him tighter as he stretched you out so good, feeling a little pinch in your walls that made you spread your legs wider in attempts at alleviating it.

“ohhhh fuckkkk baby—” he moaned loud and you quickly clamped a hand over his mouth.

“shhh honey shhh—”

“m’sorry m’sorry m’sorry—”

his voice was muffled against your hand as he pumped deeper, your squeal catching itself in your throat and his body fucking shivering at the way your tight slobbering walls sucked him in without him having to even push, your hole clenching around him and pumping more strings of stray pre cum out inside you.

“my god do that again please do that again—” he panted, reeling his hips back slowly and pushing in at a steady rhythm.

“d—do what?” you panted, your eyes closing in pleasure.

“squeeze— shit!— squeeze me please please—” he begged, pressing wet open mouthed kisses on your cheeks as he licked up your little overstimulated tears.

“like— like this?”

you clenched your hole again and his body jerked, his choked moans huffing in your ear as he rolled and snapped his hips faster.

“mm! yuji my god—” you squealed and he placed a hand over your mouth, the both of you now covering over each others as he proceeded to drill his hips in, the couch squeaking with every messy hit.

your hand tightened over his lips the louder he moaned, your eyes silently pleading with him to be a little quieter, but him too lost in the milking of his cock and the way your fucked out face looked as he couldn’t connect the dots with what you were asking of him, suddenly your blurry brain coming into reasonable consciousness for a second as you became aware of the fact that you weren’t even using protection.

“b—baby—” you muffled against his hand. “we’re not using a— mmm! c—condom we need—”

smack smack smack—

“shit i don’t— i don’t have one sweetheart.” he stifled, and yuji only went faster then, harder and jerky as his awkward virgin hips jolted you up and down on him, your eyes rolling back. “s’okay i’ll just pull out m’kay? i’ll pull out—”

his snappy pace brought your brain back into your previous dumb erotic state, nodding dazedly as he scooched his hand down and shoved his middle and ring finger inside your wet mouth, your tongue slobbering over his digits before your lips lewdly closed around them and sucked.

yuji was not keeping a lookout for your parents.

“oh fuck baby you look so fucking pretty doing that…” he choked. “you look so so pretty under me and taking my dick—”

“mhm..” you moaned around his fingers, drool seeping out of your mouth and down your chin as you felt like you were on the brink of cumming and squelching all over him.

“i’m gonna pull out soon okay? i feel—” pant— “i feel like i’m cumming—”

you pulled back from his fingers with a pop and licked your lips, nodding vigorously as you squeezed your eyes painfully shut, your release washing over you like a prickly wave with your mouth hung wide open and your vision blowing bright white.

but in the midst of you creaming, you accidentally clamped your thighs shut around yuji as he tried to slip his dick out.

“fuck! i can’t—” pant— “baby open your legs please im gonna— fuck fuck fuck!—”

yuji’s cum pummeled inside you and filled you the absolute brim as he gasped and whined in your ear, his balls draining so much of it into you that it took no time at all for it to slip past your hole and onto your couch below, the both of you heaving heavily with your clothes stuck against your sweaty sticky bodies.

“are you—” he swallowed. “are you okay baby? i’m sorry i came inside—”

“it’s okay it wasn’t you—” you tried to regulate your breathing. “it— it was my fault… i trapped you in…”

you sheepishly looked at him and gnawed at the inside of your cheek in shame, your face only making him lazily grin and press a hard loving kiss to your cheek.

“it’s okay. we can figure it out later!”

he peeled away from you and sat up, his softening cock still buried inside as he slowly pulled out and watched the rest of his cum spurt out, taking one of his shaky fingers and collecting some before pushing it back in your hole.

“don’t put it back in yujiiii!” you whined.

“sorry! sorry sorry—” he grabbed your wrist gently and kissed the back of your hand, his pinky cheeks vibrant as he looked at you with a wobbly shy smile. “i— i couldn’t help myself…”

you giggled. “s’okay honey.”

he laid his body back over yours, being mindful not to squish you as he leaned some of his weight on his arms, cutely pecking your puffy lips over and over until he was satisfied with the amount, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck after.

“m’glad my first time was with you yuji…” you murmured into his ear, your words causing his heart to literally bang against his chest as he felt like he was on cloud nine with you underneath him like that.

“i’m glad it was with you pretty.” he pushed, looking into your fucked out eyes with sincerity. “and i hope it stays that way. just my dick.”

you laughed loudly, your hand quickly coming up to cover your mouth as he giggled.

you pecked his nose sweetly and readjusted your hips, your cum covered pussy brushing against his cock again, the blood immediately rushing back to it faster than a speeding fucking bullet.

he traced a loving finger across your bottom lip delicately, a little grin on his face.

you quirked a brow. “what?”

“can we um—“ he quickly kissed you. “can we try doggy style right now?”

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taglist!! <33 (THANK YOU THANK YOU!):

@cupcaketeddybehr @soobiary @roachfun @waterfal-ling @saebaey @reneinii @luvvmae @cake-with-the-cream @pixie-dix @2ukika @cramelmacchiao @hy3phiren @fushigurioo @wil10wthetree

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coffee-and-geto · 6 months ago

Text

“HAVE YOU SEEN MY PANTIES?”

pairing: satoru gojo x f!reader

summary: in a lazy, hot summer afternoon, it’s your boyfriend’s turn to do the laundry. but why doesn’t he respond when you’re asking where’s your panties?

warnings: +18, smut, nsfw, gojo is your boyfriend, needy! gojo, cute! gojo, fluff, nipple play, panties sniffling, masturbation (m), oral (f!receiving), overstimulation, sex (p in v), also based on a @/yunonoai’s comic!

wc: 2,128

“Babe, can you do the laundry? I have a call.”

“Sure,” Satoru replies, standing up from the couch where he was lazily lying down, chilling out in front of some tiktoks.

He steps towards the bathroom, the laundry hamper waiting for him to be emptied and washed. With a resigning sigh, he looks down at the heap of dirty clothes. One of them overhangs them all: your favorite panties — the one he bought you last month.

The lace surrounds with finesse the satin fabric of your favorite color.

So how can he not be hard at the only sight that reminds him how long you both haven’t had sex?

Fuck.

His breathing becomes heavier, each inhaling being a trial to not pay attention to the prominent bulge swelling down his gray jogging pants. Of course, the memory of your whimpers will always be like music to his ears, the fwap sounds of his cock buried deep, so deep, inside of your wet pussy, and his balls, so much filled with his cum and tightening when he's about to climax, slapping against your ass at each pound into you.

He is grouching now, at the edge of whining in need of your full attention — but of course, you needed to have a call at this very moment.

His hand twitches to his crotch, palming his already hard erection through the soft fabric of his pants, electricing at quiet moans, Satoru’s beautiful face wincing in pleasure. He swallows thick, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and gives in. With messy movements, he lifts up his black shirt to grab the hem at his watering mouth and muffle his cute sounds between his clenched teeth and jaw. The fresh air blow at his hard abs, making him tensing his belly with scorching skin.

His big, calloused hand fiddles with his erection, so ready to free himself from the torturous sensation of your pretty panties, which he holds between his fingers and brings to his nose to inhale your scent, which makes him like a little puppy for you. Satoru utters a desperate whimper and finally buries his hand under his clothes to release his quivering cock.

It’s much bigger than usual, beads of precum glistening on the angry red tip, and veins sinuating the flesh. Of course, it’s perfect. That’s why it will never seem strange to anyone to see him stroke himself. He lazily fucks his tight fist, picturing your sweet pussy as he closes his eyes, beads of sweat leaking from his temples a flush spreads all over his cheeks.

His length girth throbs between his digits, coursing waves of lust through him as Satoru quickens the pace, as the same as his heartbeat. Saliva damps the fabric of his black shirt, and the idea of substituting the hem of his shirt with your panties carries out straight away, increasing his arousal until it’s twitching in a maddened way. With each stroke, the pre spreads along his shaft to allow it to be lubricated, at the point that if you all of a sudden show up in the bathroom, you both can skip the foreplay but damn!

“Toru? Did you see my panties?” Your voice echoes through another room.

But he doesn’t answer anyway.

“Fuck,” he grunts in a quiet whine, “miss you so much, babe.” His balls tighten, following the next moment — and it doesn’t take that much time he expected, because a few seconds after he twists his wrist in an upstroke movement — the exact way you’d do to him — he’s already cumming on the heap of laundry, dirtying them even more they already were, puddles of a viscous liquid, spreading out in droplets as the orgasmic peak subsides.

Panting heavily, he doesn’t hear you burst into the bathroom as you exclaim, “Satoru? You serious? Look at the state of the laundry now!”

With a swift gesture, he removes your panties from his mouth and turns his head suddenly towards you. He’s unable to justify himself and simply watches your disapproving pout ruffle your pretty lips. “Sorry babe, I'll clean it up.” He also notes how your mere presence makes him hard immediately despite having softened a moment earlier with the moment of “relief” he wished to provide for himself.

“Where are my panties?” you ask a second time as you rummage, eyebrows furrowed, through the basket of dirty laundry.

Satoru rubs the back of your neck nervously and hesitates to hide your underwear in his palm. “Uh... here,” he murmurs softly, slightly discomfited as you pinch the bridge of your nose in exasperation.

“You’re that much needy?”

Satoru looks down, a little boyish pout on his lips that breaks your heart. “Sorry...”

Your frown softens. “Oh, um— No, Toru, please don’t gimme that look,” you whisper, walking over to him, your hands instinctively cupping his cheeks to make him look down at you. “I’m sorry, my love. You need to tell me when you need me, okay?”

Satoru nods slowly, still guiltily pouting. “Can I have you? Please? Just one round, I swear I’ll be gentle,” he murmurs.

His request makes your lips curl up. “My boy does want me? You’re cute, almost begging like this.” You graze a kiss on his cheek. “Get on your knees.”

“Like that?” His knees make contact with the floor, his cock still outside his dangling jogging suit. He so fucking cute, listening to you so obediently.

“Good boy,” you coo, sliding pants down your thighs. Your black panties hug the swell of your hips, your intoxicating scent spreading toward Satoru’s nostrils.

He moves towards you using his knees to grip your hips and sniff your scent once more. The action makes you giggle so much that it makes you suck in a breath when he pulls down your underwear to kiss your groin. “Love you,” he whispers. “I want to taste you, please.”

“Satoru, just wait I—” But he cuts you off, darting out his tongue to lick a strip enough to feel your bundle of nerves. A moan escapes your lips, driving your breath as crazy as he’s doing with his skillful mouth.

“You’re dripping,” Satoru comments, kissing your lower lips swiftly before grabbing you by the thighs and lifting you up, dropping you off the washing machine. “Spread your legs,” he mumbled, all needy and flushed to eat you out.

And how long he hadn’t—

It’s like he’s drunk on you, ignoring your moans and whimpers as he rests his cheeks on your inner thigh to wrap his wrist around your thighs. His fingertips dig into the flesh of your thighs, trapping you firmly. “Keep ‘em spread, baby,” he purrs, lapping your soaked core and sensitive, puffy clit. “It tastes s’good, I’ve missed you.”

His dick twitches and throbs afterward, your sweet sounds re-hardening him and making him more swollen than he was even after the few rubs he did to relieve himself.

“Hmm, ah, Satoru, you—” you trail off, throwing back your head against the wall, your hands grabbing the washing machine’s edge until your knuckles turn white. “I’ll be close, I—” you babble, and the realization of how much not having sex with him for so long is turning you into a virgin-like. And also, the clenching feeling of your pussy, lips parting and closing around nothing hits you so hard.

You need to cum on his cock.

“Satoru, stop,” you gasp, your fingers snaking gently through his white lock and tugging them carefully.

He stops the moment after your whine reaches his ears — a sound ringing like music to his ear. “But… I haven’t made you come yet,” he murmurs, rubbing your clit slowly with his forefinger and middle finger. His cute pout is now begging you to give him grace.

“I want to cum on your dick,” you clarify, leaning in, your lips pressing down a gentle, loving kiss on this beautiful forehead of him.

“You sure? I haven’t stretched you beforehand.” He rises from his former crouching position and holds his sensitive length closer to your core.

“I don’t mind, I just want you right now,” you blow out, kissing his free hand.

Satoru blushes — and oh, how can anyone fall in love with this cute little face you want to madly shower with cuddles and kisses? “Can we put it in while I kiss you?” he requests, bringing his lips closer to yours.

You let out a little laugh, pressing a first kiss on his lips. “You’re so cute.”

But something makes your eyes drop lower, and you feel it. Satoru’s hand holds his shaft enough well to tap the tip and the length below on your core, teasing your squelching cunt.

“C’mon, don’t tease me, I want you n— Ah!” He shuts you down by crashing his lips on yours and sliding himself easily in you, stretching you impossibly wide. “S-Satoru, you’re bigger than usual,” you whimper.

Your hands grab his broad shoulder, nails sinking in his compressed black shirt, lips moving on their own to taste yourself on his wet lips. His tender tongue asks to enter you, and you allow him, soft strokes on each other’s tongue.

Satoru moans in the melting kiss, waiting for you to adjust, and starts gentle back and forth hips moves, hissing through his teeth by the sweet, delicious tightness of yours. “You feel so good,” he squeals between kisses. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You gasp, swallowing hard because of the different paces your brain can’t focus on — stolen kisses and perfect pounds into you. It’s so deep, so mastered, that it’s driving you mad and making you see stars.

Breaking the kiss, Satoru wraps his muscled arms around your back and encircles you flush against him, your heartbeat matching with his, and your fingernails slide down his back as you almost lose strength and balance every time his tip brushes against your cervix, etching red scratch marks for sure on his back as soon as he will remove his shirt.

With another buck before pulling out fully, he slides back in and manages to reach your deepest point, making your back arch and cry out. “Satoru, please, I’m so close,” you whine, wincing because of his hips rocking in you faster and harder.

The washing machine sways to the same rhythm, threatening to give way under your weight. Your heavy, ragged breaths fill the air in a kind of steam room. Blood beats at your ears, your gummy walls clenching around his long, big dick without ceasing and have mercy for you.

But as if that wasn’t enough, Satoru slides your top off with a swift movement of his hand to free one of your breasts and taste the nipple. He sucks hard, tongue pulling and swirling at the nub like no other. The action makes you roll your eyes, the overstimulation engulfing you like a wave would.

He then uses his head to tease your nipple with a gentle tug, his cerulean-blue eyes captivated by your curve. You squeal, your walls swallowing up his thrusts inside you, tightening more and more until he gives in and takes you back into his arms, but this time with a hand under your thigh to lift it up and enable him to reach an even more precise and deep angle, making you scream out his name.

“Baby, I’m gonna cum,” Satoru warns you, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down, and his jaw tense from clenching. “Please, where—”

“Inside me, Satoru,” you whimper in the hollow of his neck, closing your eyes before the following ride crashes the two of you.

Pussy clenching around his length, you squirt on him with a small cry, and Satoru does likewise, twitching as he grunts and his hips jerk to reach your womb and fill you up with his cum.

Muscles trembling from the aftermath, you pant against him, as weak as after an intense workout. “I’ve missed you so much,” Satoru whispers in your ear, in the same state as you. His large, quaking hands stroke your hair, soothing you.

White strings escape from your full, swollen-lipped pussy, the sound of trickling filling the silence of the room.

“I promise I’ll do the laundry, but please, can we have cuddles?” Satoru demands, blinking down at you with puppy-dog eyes.

You rest your cheek on his shoulder and nod, a smile stretching your lips, as you reach out to stroke his cheek.

“Of course, my baby.”

DING DONG.

The ringing of the front door echoes in your ears and a memory pops into your head, slapping you in the face.

“Wasn’t Suguru supposed to come to borrow the washing machine here because his is broken?”

Satoru froze, flickering his eyes. “Huh?”

a/n: feelin to write something cute and smutty haha! i think writing things easy like this is unwinding me.

see how he’s so cute? 🥹 pls God give me one…

tags: @ssetsuka @zara-zara11 @bearwithmoo @elliesndg @lymsfm @mutsu422 @whathappenedtobees @drippymcdrippison @koshhin @v31v3t

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fushitoru · 4 months ago

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trouble a gojo satoru fic

pairing ⸺ bully!satoru gojo x reader

summary ⸺ an unexpected tutoring session with your bully satoru gojo leads to somewhere...unexpected

warnings ⸺ SMUT (MDNI), fluff, slight angst, college au, porn with really mid plot, bullying, humiliation, PANTY INSPECTION, p i v sex, unprotected sex, aftercare, creampie, he whimpers a lot but also degrades you a lot, gojo satoru king of dirty talk it might not make sense lolz, this is not edited in the slightest, didn't even do it a once over, implied that reader is a virgin but not really art by the goat 3-aem

a/n sorry for being so ia. will be answering asks after the ao3 author ahh events that went on this past week T-T as a result this is kind of mid, might delete later, based on this req

general masterlist

This could not be happening to you. NO, no, no. You must be dreaming, right?

Because Satoru Gojo was sitting right across from you in your math professor’s office, looking akin to a kicked puppy, ears drooping as your professor continued ranting about his late assignments, his efforts to cover his grades up, lost potential, laziness, how he should learn from you—but you were only dreading the aftermath of this conversation, when you were left alone with Gojo.

Because he was your college bully.

It didn’t get as violent as in those Asian dramas, but you were often left humiliated from the nuisance he was. For example, take the instance when you both first met.

Head deep in the textbooks you just bought, you were scanning the formulas in an effort to get ahead; after all, for someone like you—dependent on a scholarship to attend university—slacking off was not an option. Only for the nepo trust fund babies—which you were not. There, in the prestigious university you had fought tooth and nail to get into, you were at peace.

But it all went out the window as someone moved to tap you on your shoulder, making you turn your head towards possibly the most handsomest boy you’ve ever seen but undeniably a spoiled kid. Because what came out of his words were definitely grounds for sexual harassment.

“Are Asian people your type? Because I’m China get in your japanties.”

If crickets could make their way into the study room you were sitting in, their chirps would be LOUD. You blinked, heat creeping up your face as he leaned closer to your face, eyes flirtingly honing in on yours and your lips. Abruptly—-flustered—you stood up, gathering your belongings and apologizing profusely. “I”m so—sorry—I don’t—-you might be talking to the wrong per—” because there was no way in hell he was addressing you. From what you could see, he looked like a rich kid, the kind with a lot of money—something that could land you in trouble. You booked it the hell out of there, ignoring the confused look on his face and missing the disappointment flicker across it as he saw your retreating figure leave his sight.

And thus, your love story with Satoru Gojo—who you soon found out was the most popular boy on campus—started.

Small encounters with Gojo kept plaguing your first semester. They would be chance encounters, where Gojo would catch your eye in the middle of a crowd and make his way towards you, a snarky grin creeping up his face as he cornered you into a hallway with less traffic. Sometimes even in a closet.

It wouldn’t be anything grave, to say. All he would ask is how your day was, all sweet nothings and cute smiles made to woo you. And they definitely did—but you couldn’t let it show, couldn’t let him woo you.

“What’s your next class, baby?” The both of you were in a janitor’s closet, him having cornered you in the room and locked the door. You kept biting your lip nervously, the edge of it red and swollen as you peered at him somewhat nervously.

“Uh—I don’t know,” you whispered, darting your eyes somewhere on the floor, so he wouldn’t see the avoidant look on your face.

Let’s get the record straight: you weren’t scared of Gojo. Sure, at 6’ 3’’ with piercing, glow-in-the-dark sapphire eyes, he made you nervous, but you knew you could pine for him at best. Because god knows what would happen if you ever cross him or his dozens of fan girls, some with considerably more power than you on campus. Putting a target on your back while you were trying to graduate wasn’t one of your goals, but trying to pass your math classes with honors was.

And you hated the fact Gojo could read you like a book. Because in the cramped, dark space, his eyes were almost..soft as he put his forearm across the wall on top of your head, effectively caging you in as he steps toward you. You hug your big and heavy books closer to your chest, the squish of your breasts over your top not lost to Gojo who eyes them with lidded eyes. Then, they make their way to meet yours, and it’s like he can see the pining in your eyes. The fact that he’s a carrot dangled in front of your head, something you want but if you ran, you would never have him. A perpetual race to make him yours.

He smiles, gives a soft chuckle. “You don’t know?” he teases you and your blatant lie. “C’mon, let me walk you there.”

But you blurt out an immediate “No!” and then regret it, because hurt flashes across his face. “I mean–” you falter, “please don’t. You’ll be seen publicly with me.”

A quizzical look, one that is so innocent that it makes you want to cry, because how could Gojo ever understand your problems? “What’s the problem?” And then he pouts. “You embarrassed of me?”

“No–no—” you shake your head, squirming slightly from where you were both standing. “It won’t be good for you, for me.” Then, you swallowed, waiting and screening for his reaction.

Praying to whatever gods that were listening to you that he would understand, it seemed that they were answered because an emotion you couldn’t place etched its way on his face until he nodded. A resolute one, yet something that made you a bit…uneasy was in his eyes. Because it meant nothing but trouble.

Then on went your days. Seven days, in fact, because it only took a week for you to be walking across the hallway, daydreaming about a boy without a face cuddling you in the winter, eating cookies in Christmas. You hated being single and hated the fact you were confined to your academic responsibilities; quickly, your professors caught onto your potential, assigning you to tutor your peers during recitations. You preened at the attention and validation but felt lonely because it occupied all your time to catch up on others’ expectations. In your rumination of your upcoming responsibilities, you didn’t notice the hand shoot out and firmly grab your arm until you were in a janitor’s closet. Yet again.

Shocked, you resisted the unknown person who had led you in here, instincts flaring up until said person turned on the light.

Gojo.

“Gojo, what are you—” You didn’t get a chance to finish your sentence, as Gojo had covered your mouth with his arm, one to avoid causing too much commotion before you were discovered there.

“You said no one could see us, right?” A mischievous—yet yearning—look flashed across his face and it was then you realized his play. “So this is okay?”

No, this stubborn man wasn’t going to let you go—he was going to torment you. In secret.

The only response you could conjure your brain was a whimper because a tentative hand was creeping its way up your thigh, softy caressing the insides of it. All you could feel was pleasure and how it was so right despite it being so wrong that Satoru Gojo, the campus sweetheart, had cornered you into the janitor’s closet to give you the most dizzying touches, some you couldn’t deny.

So when he moved his other hand that was at your mouth to grab at your pink skirt, he lifted the hem with both his hands and then paused. Looked at you with darkened eyes. “Let me do this.”

You could only close your eyes in your flustered state, pinching them shut as you gave him a slight nod. It only took him a millisecond to move, using both of his hands to uncover what was between your thighs, eyes focused and widening as he inspected your panties.

“Pink with hearts, huh?” You could hear the chuckle in his voice, the cockiness basically oozing out and you could only continue to heat up deeper. “I like it, baby.” Jumping as you felt his hands roam and trace the edges of your panties, he hooked his finger in the crotch, your thighs tightening slightly as his index just oh so grazed your bare folds as he pulled and pulled, until he let go of the tension and it snapped back in its place. “Look at me.”

As per his instruction, you opened your eyes, only to be taken aback by the intensity in his. Then, his lips moved. “Be my girlfriend.”

The moment broke as clarity hit you. This shouldn’t have happened. “I’m sorry, Gojo, but—”

“Don’t call me that,” he groaned, stepping back and raking an arm through his hair. “What’s even your problem? Did I do something wrong?”

Incredulous, you utter out a “Something wro—you don’t think you did something wrong?”

He looked at you for a bit, made to say something, but you cut him off. “You know what Gojo? Get this through your head. We can’t do this. I don’t know how many girls fall for this, but I can’t. I’m sorry.” With that, you made to move, but he quickly reached out, pleading for you to stay. You wrenched his hand out of your grip and said, in the most serious voice you could muster, “Don’t ever talk to me again.” And you walked out, pretending you weren’t scared of what would happen after you retaliated against the Satoru Gojo.

Surprising, all went well for the rest of the semester. You did get some whispers and stares because of the stray rumor or two passing around about you and the mysterious instances when the campus king stared at your figure for a flicker too long. But it wasn’t nothing but passing because you didn’t share any classes with Gojo, and he respected your wishes. You didn’t miss the bitterness in his stare when you passed by his friend group in the hallway, speeding up to shake off the weight of his eyes on you.

So, you were at peace. Until second semester’s Calc III.

You soon realize that with gradients and vectors comes an additional burden, one specifically sporting white hair. Because as you’re pulled into your math professor’s office and see him, you oh so desperately want to book it.

“And this, Satoru,” your professor pauses and looks at him sternly while gesturing towards you, “is your ticket out of failing. Miss Y/N here,” he gives you a comforting smile, one that does nothing to ease the stiffness flooding your body at the thought of Gojo right next to you, “has the highest grade in the class. She’s a seasoned teaching assistant too, helping a lot of people in her classes next year.” You silently curse, your smile growing more strained as you realize Gojo’s looking at you. “I trust that you’ll be in good care.”

Once the professor finally dismissed you both, you braced yourself, shoving your notebook back into your bag with far more force than necessary. The prospect of *actually* tutoring Satoru Gojo—the one person who seemed hell-bent on making college a gauntlet for you—was absurd.

You didn't look up as you pushed past him, but Gojo kept pace, following you out of the office and down the hall with that easy, unbothered stride of his. "So," he drawled, “how's this tutoring thing going to work? Are you coming to my place, or am I coming to yours?”

You stopped, turning to face him. "My place," you said firmly. The thought of seeing him lounging in some flashy, high-end apartment was insufferable. Besides, at least in your dorm, you could set some ground rules.

He blinked, looking surprised. "Your place? Bold move, Miss Perfect," he teased, that trademark smirk flickering onto his face. “Didn’t think you’d be so eager to have me over.”

"Trust me, Gojo, I'm only doing this because I have to. And there will be rules," you said, crossing your arms. "No messing around, no games—just math."

“*Just math,*" he repeated, his tone playful as his eyes glinted with mischief. “Got it.”

You swallowed, hoping he meant it. "Fine," you said briskly. "I’ll see you tomorrow at six. Don’t be late."

“Oh, wouldn’t miss it,” he replied, and with a little salute, he strolled off, leaving you with a sense of impending doom.

The knock came precisely at six.

You opened the door, and there stood Satoru Gojo, surprisingly punctual, hands shoved into his pockets and a playful grin on his face. You gestured to the small study area you’d set up by your desk, filled with neatly organized notes and textbooks.

“Take a seat,” you said shortly. “We’ll start with the basics.”

He slid into the chair, his gaze flitting from the textbooks to you, an amused glint in his eye. “You weren’t kidding about tutoring. You’re all set up like a professional.”

You ignored the remark and opened the textbook to the chapter on derivatives. “Alright. Let’s go through this. If you understand derivatives, the rest of Calc III will start making sense.”

For a while, he seemed to actually pay attention. He followed along, asking a few questions, which you answered as patiently as possible. But as the explanations went on, his attention started to drift. After one too many halfhearted nods, you frowned, putting your pencil down.

“You’re not even trying, are you?”

He leaned back in his chair, that smirk resurfacing. “Maybe I just wanted an excuse to spend time with you.”

You rolled your eyes, fighting off the blush creeping up your cheeks. “You needed my help. I didn’t force you to come here. If you don’t want to do this, then—”

He held up a hand, the teasing gone from his face. “Alright, alright. I’ll focus.” He paused, then added, “In fact, to show you I mean it, I’ll do you a favor. Whatever you want. My way of saying thanks.”

You eyed him warily. “A favor?”

“Anything,” he said, leaning in with a grin that spelled trouble. “What’ll it be? An escort to class? Carrying your books around? Name it.”

“I’ll let you know when I think of something.” You’re dismissive, knowing he’s not that serious about this, playful about this like he is everything else.

He chuckled, nodding. “Looking forward to it.”

And with that, he finally settled into his chair, this time with genuine focus, leaving you both in the kind of quiet that held a new, unspoken promise—a favor, an IOU hanging in the air between you.

You don’t know how you ended up under Gojo on your bed.

Satoru sat close—closer than you’d expected. His knee brushed yours as he leaned forward to study your notes, and every few minutes, his arm would brush against your hand as he reached for the pencil you were using to write equations. Each little touch sent a jolt through you, and judging by the lingering glances he kept giving you, he didn’t mind it either.

“Okay, so the derivative here is...?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady as you pointed at the next problem.

Satoru leaned even closer, squinting at your notebook. “I think I get it,” he murmured, his face inches from yours, his breath warm as it brushed your cheek. But instead of looking at the math, his eyes flicked to yours, lingering just a second too long.

Your heart hammered as you forced yourself to focus. “Right. So you should get… uh… that answer,” you managed, feeling his gaze still trained on you.

“Uh-huh,” he replied, not breaking eye contact. His hand shifted on the table, the back of his fingers grazing yours.

You didn’t move. Neither did he. Your fingers stayed where they were, brushing against each other, the soft, deliberate touch making the silence between you feel louder. Finally, you broke the tension by clearing your throat, quickly pulling your hand away to grab a different textbook.

“So—um, yeah, you’re almost there,” you stammered. “But you missed a step here.” You pointed to another section, hoping he wouldn’t notice the slight shake in your voice.

He noticed, of course. You could see his smirk in the corner of your eye.

“Is that all I missed?” he asked, leaning so close that his shoulder pressed against yours. His voice was lower now, more intimate.

You nodded, trying to focus on the page but finding it impossible with him so close. “Yeah. Just… that,” you said softly.

“Thanks,” he murmured, his voice dropping even more as he shifted his hand, his knuckles brushing against your knee now. It wasn’t intentional—at least, you thought it wasn’t—but neither of you moved. You felt frozen, caught in a quiet, charged moment, where all you could hear was your own heartbeat.

You swallowed, forcing your gaze back to the problem on the page. “Maybe, um… maybe we should take a break?” you suggested, needing a second to breathe.

He tilted his head, an amused, knowing, intense glint in his eye. “A break sounds nice.”

Your breath caught as he looked at you like that, his hand still warm where it lingered just a little too close. And in that brief moment, you wondered just what kind of favor you’d end up asking of him—or what he might ask of you in return.

And it seemed like he knew what you were thinking. “Hey,” he said oh so breathlessly, in the way that made you want to throw yourself at him yet simultaneously bludgeon his head in, “wanna fuck?”

You reeled back, incredulous, but he quickly grabbed your head with both his hands, gently drawing you in. “What?”

“I mean,” and he giggled, “what better use of a favor for than me to rid you of your virginity?”

You gasp, struggling in his hold to no avail. “Why would you assume I’m a virgin? I have plenty of experience, thank you very much—”

All the man does is snigger, despite your glare at him and looks at you, peering at you through his eyelashes with an oh-so-adoring smile. “It was clear how much you soaked through your panties that last time you’re a virgin, baby.” And you can’t help but whimper, reduced to a melting mess because of his sweet words.

He laughs meanly. “If you’re not a virgin, you better not be soaked right now, baby. I’m kind of excited to see what panties you’re wearing this time” He moves his hand between your thighs, and you pliantly spread your legs for him, clenching as his hands rove over your panties in between your skirt. And he’s right, because it’s almost like you’ve wet your panties with the way your slick was flooding out of you because of your proximity with Satoru. “Look at that,” he coos and he pulls his hand away, much to your dismay, to examine his fingers. They glisten vulgarly in the fairy lights in your dorm, and Satoru turns his head to look at you. “So you gonna let me fuck you?”

And that, dear reader, is how you find yourself face down in your plushies on your dorm room bed, clutching them for dear life as Satoru spews dirty talk as if he was born doing it. “Satoru, faster!” you sob, having gone past the initial discomfort of having something in your pussy.

“Satoru, faster,” he mocks you, grabbing your hips and drilling into your heat, groaning at how you’re just so tight. The tears flowing down your face make you even more beautiful as you succumb to your pleasure, one that no one other than Satoru has ever made you feel. “Isn’t this what you wanted? For me to fuck you?” You don’t answer past your moaning, and that annoys the fuck out of Gojo. He slaps your ass consecutively and can’t help but be more aroused looking at the red handprints he leaves. “Answer me.”

“Yes,” you moaned, anything to stop his assault on your ass, “I wanted this is sooo bad.” At that—rather than being satiated—Satoru sped up, hitting your spot with the accuracy of a sharpshooter.

“Yea, baby?” He laughs, meanly, leaning down to grab you by the chin, forcing you to look at him. His fingers squished your cheeks, thereby pursuing your lips as he tried not to cum from the sight of your eyes rolling back with each stroke into you. From the way you were clenching and pulsing more regularly around him, he could tell you were close. “Gonna cum?”

You whined, nodding while sobbing into his hands, trying to focus on the feeling of orgasming. It was so close, you could feel it coiling in your belly—

Just for him to rip out of your cavern, leaving you in shambles due to the emptiness you were feeling. “What—”

He tutted, his hand now slowly stroking his cock while he was sitting on his knees, looking down at you. “I’m only letting you come if you agree to be my girlfriend.”

“Gojo, what—”

“It’s Satoru,” his eyes flared, looking at you with an intensity you hadn’t noticed before. “And say it. Say you’ll be mine.”

For a moment, you searched his eyes for any signs. Signs of insincerity, of humor. But all you could find was desperation and yearning. Ever since you kept having your chance encounters with Gojo, you couldn’t help but deny the fluttering in your heart; the way his eyes unconsciously looked for you, a mere stranger he had taken interest in, in every crowd made you feel seen in a world where you were otherwise invisible.

And you couldn’t help but want to continue being in that world, in his world.

“Fine,” you whispered. “I’ll be your girlfr—”

Before you could finish, he smashed his lips into yours, joining them in a messy, wet embrace. His tongue explored your mouth in a way that made you leak even more while he aggressively laid back down on the mattress, effortlessly lifting you onto his crotch and onto his dick. As he thrusted into you, desperately, he couldn’t help but continue blabbing sweet nothings.

“I’ll treat you so well—haah—take you out on dates,” he heaved, eyes watering as he thrusted slowly into you in long, deep strokes. His eyes never left you as he made love to you, his face going up to nuzzle in between your breasts, peering at you through lidded eyes lovingly. “Fuck you well every night, show you off to the world.”

You could only sob Satoru as you looked at his face through your tears, him doing all the talking for you. “Every day,” he groaned, his cock pulsing and twitching in your walls, “I’ll love you like you’re my wife and fuck you like you’re my slut. So—” and he took a sharp intake of breath, one that you could interpret as him getting close with the way his hips were continually getting more and more sloppy, “so proud of you, baby. Gonna take care of you.” Then, he meets his eyes with yours as he starts to speed up, hand moving to gently rub at your clit in circles, with such prowess that you know you’re not going to last long. “Pull you—haah—pull you aside and see what panties you wore for me that day. Coming inside—coming inside and making you walk around with my cum leakin’ out of your panties.”

And then he whimpers as he loses control. “Gonna—” he utters in between short breaths, “gonna come baby. Come with me.”

“I will, Satoru,” you whine. “Please, I wanna—I wanna kiss!” That’s when Satoru can’t hold himself back anymore, his cum shooting in ropes inside of you at the innocent gesture you wanted him to do while he was doing such filthy things to you. You come alongside with him, everything so overwhelming as you ride out your orgasm on top of him.

As you’re both settling down from your orgasm, he pulls you off—the both of you wincing at the sudden emptiness—as he lays you down next to him. Without a word, he nuzzles in between your breasts, giving a content sigh as he literally melts like a cat, relaxed in your embrace. You can’t help but giggle at his antics, and he takes his face out of your cleavage to give you a boyish grin. “What’re you laughing at?” “Nothing,” you shake your head. “Just the fact I’m chained to you now.”

“Hey!” he pouts, moving his arms so he’s embracing you tightly, effectively trapping you in. “Say that again and I’m going to sleep on top of you and never leave.”

“Can’t believe I’m chained to y—”

Satoru plops on top of you, making a show of tickling your ribs and stomach as you gasp and laugh in surprise. “Satoru!” He doesn’t relent, until you feel a familiar liquid ooze and leak out of your pussy.

This time, your shriek of Satoru’s name doesn’t go unnoticed. At the murderous look on your face–as well as the sheer messiness in between your thighs—he gets up. Smiles sweetly. “Should just leave you like this, leaking my cum. It’s only fair for how you ignored me!”

At that, he gets a pillow to his face, reminiscent of a kicked puppy as he trudges to your bathroom to clean you up.

general masterlist

comment and reblog your thots! <3

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reilemon · 2 months ago

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Return To You

♡︎ synopsis: You rely on Sylus to keep you warm on a winter getaway.

♡︎pairing: Sylus x fem!reader

♡︎ tags: fluff, oral (female receiving), love making (for a change)

♡︎ word count: 6.1k

♡︎ a/n: some cute holiday fluff for @hesperisms 💕✨

♡︎ Not beta read, but I'm still giving a shoutout to my dearest friend and my beta reader ♡︎@its-de♡︎.

divider by @anitalenia

The town square looks like a winter wonderland straight out of a postcard. Fairy lights shimmer like little stars from every tree, their warm glow reflected on the thin snowy blanket and salt-covered cobblestones. The air carries the sweet scent of roasted chestnuts, caramel apples, and spiced mulled wine – the aromas making your mouth water with every step as you lead, or better yet, drag Sylus towards the ice rink. You’d been eyeing the rink all night, and now, with only a handful of skaters, it’s the perfect time to venture out.

You turn to Sylus who is dressed impeccably, as always, his coat tailored perfectly to his broad shoulders. You can’t help but smile at his rosy cheeks and nose, the color from the winter air making him look less intimidating. Though, he still stands out in this festive setting.

"You’ve been indulging me all day," you say, leaning closer to him, pulling his focus back to you. "I think it’s time to try something fun together."

He raises an eyebrow, his lips quirking in a small, amused smirk. "And your idea of fun is strapping blades to our feet and risking broken bones?"

You laugh. "C’mon, it’s almost empty!" You nod towards the skate rental stand. “Let’s go and get our skates!”

"Our?" he repeats. "I’m more than happy to watch you make a spectacle of yourself while I stay safely on solid ground."

You pout, crossing your arms over your winter coat. "That’s not fair. I’m not good at this, and I need someone strong to keep me upright."

Sylus doesn’t say anything for a moment, his gaze shifting back to the ice rink, then to you, his brow furrowing slightly.

"Don’t tell me you’ve never ice-skated before," you tease, a grin tugging at your lips.

"I didn’t say that," he replies smoothly. "I’m simply saying I prefer to observe."

"That’s just a fancy way of saying you’re bad at it," you counter and playfully nudge his side with your elbow. "Please, Sylus? It’ll be fun. I promise not to let go of your hand."

His mouth opens as if to argue, but your wide-eyed, pleading look stops him. He exhales slowly, a puff of mist curling in the air between you, and shakes his head with the faintest hint of a smile on his lips.

"Fine," he mutters. "But if I fall, you’re to blame."

You beam at him, grabbing his arm and pulling him toward the skate rental stand. "Deal! But I’m warning you now—I’m terrible at this, so we might both fall."

As the cheerful attendant hands over your skates, you glance up at Sylus.

"Thank you," you whisper, squeezing his hand.

"Don’t thank me yet," he replies, as he looks at the skates. "Let’s see if we survive this first."

As you step onto the rink, Sylus’ grip on your hand tightens, the grip of his gloved hand firm and his presence reassuring against the slippery unpredictability of the ice. He steps further, leading you slowly with him. His fitness and natural grace give him an edge, but you can tell by the slight furrow in his brow that he’s carefully adjusting to the sensation of skating.

"You need to keep your knees slightly bent," Sylus instructs as he glances down at you wobbling by his side.

You giggle nervously, your free hand flailing slightly for balance. "Easier said than done! This is harder than I remember."

He watches you with a mixture of amusement and focus as you take a cautious step forward. "Relax. Lean forward slightly— I know you can do it."

Following his instructions, you do as you’re told, feeling a little more stable as you start to glide, although slowly. Sylus moves alongside you, his strides smooth and confident now, his hand never letting go of yours.

"You’re a natural," you tease, grinning up at him.

"Hardly," he replies with a small smirk. "But at least one of us needs to stay upright."

The sound of your laughter fills the crisp air as you grow bolder, gliding a little faster, though your feet still wobble occasionally. Sylus keeps up with you effortlessly, his focus shifting between your movements and the icy terrain ahead. At one point, as you make a sharper turn, your skate catches slightly, making you stumble. Before you can hit the ice, Sylus’ arm wraps securely around your waist, pulling you close.

"Careful, kitten." he murmurs, as he steadies you.

You laugh, your cheeks flushed from the cold and him. "Thank you. You’re like my personal safety net."

Sylus’ lips twitch in a faint smile, but he says nothing, his hand lingering on your waist for a moment longer before he releases you. Feeling emboldened after a few minutes of smooth gliding, you try to add a little twist, lifting your arms and attempting a small spin. The move immediately throws you off balance, and before you can topple over, Sylus catches you again, his grip firm but careful.

"No spins," he says firmly, leaving no room for negotiation.

"But—"

"You’re going to hurt yourself," he interrupts. Even though he is serious, you can see that he’s amused by your confidence in your skills.

You pout playfully. "Fine. But only if you promise we’ll come back for more ice-skating dates until I can spin."

Sylus sighs, the mist leaving his lips with the faint smile. "Fine. We’ll come back. But only if you promise not to try anything reckless again."

"Deal," you say brightly, grabbing his hand again as you continue gliding across the ice.

Though Sylus was reluctant at first, he finds that skating isn’t so bad as he watches you enjoy yourself. The cold air bites at your cheeks, your laughter echoing in the winter night, and for a brief moment, it feels like it’s just the two of you on the shimmering ice.

⋆⁺₊❅. ♡ ︎⋆⁺₊❅.

After leaving the ice rink, a little flushed and breathless, Sylus leads you through the bustling rows of stalls. He buys you your favorite candy, while he picks out some odd, colorful confections for himself—strange mix of flavors that you wouldn’t have dared to try, but he seems intrigued.

As you stroll further, your eyes catch on a vibrant display of oversized plushies at a game stall. A particularly cute dragon plushie catches your attention, its soft fabric shimmering slightly under the lights. You figure that this is a good time to regain some dignity you lost on the ice. You step up to the booth, pay the attendant, and pick up the air rifle. The attendant’s jaw practically drops as you shoot all the targets effortlessly, and Sylus’ admiration shines evident as he watches you from the side.

“Is there any space left in your apartment for more toys?” he remarks as you hug the plushie to your chest.

You shrug with a self-satisfied smile. “If not, I’ll just bring some to you.”

He chuckles, slipping his hand into yours as you continue walking through the festive town, the dragon plushie tucked snugly under your arm.

⋆⁺₊❅. ♡ ︎⋆⁺₊❅.

Back at the cozy lodge, you push the door open, greeted by the warmth and the comforting scent of cedar and cinnamon. Sylus steps in behind you, his arms carrying bags of candies, trinkets, and wrapped gifts you’d picked out for your friends back home. You set your dragon plushie on the couch, fluffing its wings a little before turning to help him organize everything. He puts down a bottle of on the kitchen counter and you find the small bundle of herbs you’d picked out. After setting everything down, you feel the weight of the day in your limbs. Your arms and thighs ache from all the skating and carrying bags, but it’s almost a satisfying buzz in your muscles.

Sylus turns to you, tilting his head slightly. “You’re slowing down,” he says.

“I’m not slowing down,” you protest, but a yawn betrays you. “Okay, maybe a little.”

“Come on,” he says, motioning toward the hallway. “Let’s clean up. The bathtub’s big enough to fit both of us.”

You glance at him, but he’s already on his way to the bathroom, so you follow behind, almost giddy at the thought of a relaxing bath.

⋆⁺₊❅. ♡ ︎⋆⁺₊❅.

He adjusts the temperature in the shower while you start to light candles around the room. Steam begins to fill the air, carrying the faint scent of the bath salts you placed by the tub. Stripping down, you step into the shower together. The warm spray cascades over your skin, washing away the remnants of the day’s adventures.

Once clean, you both step out and towel off. Sylus moves to the bathtub, sprinkling the bath salts into the hot water, the scent rising as he swirls the water with his hand, testing the temperature.

“Perfect,” he murmurs and takes your hand in his, helping you step into the tub first.

A relieved sigh leaves your lips as the hot water envelops you, the salts already working their magic on your tired muscles. Sylus follows, settling in across from you his broad shoulders just visible above the water’s shimmering surface. His silver hair clings to his forehead in damp strands, and his gaze is softened by the dim light as he takes in the sight of you.

You let out a long sigh, your eyes fluttering closed as you lean your head back against the bath pillow. “Well,” you mumble, “goodnight.”

A low, amused chuckle rumbles from his chest. Without a word, his leg nudges yours under the water, his foot brushing lightly against your calf, making your eyes flick open and look at him in mock annoyance.

“You can’t fall asleep here,” he says with a grin tugging at his lips.

You grin back, letting your toes nudge his shin in retaliation. “I wouldn’t. There’s hardly any room for my legs anyway, with yours taking up all the space.”

Sylus shifts slightly, the movement causing ripples across the water’s surface, as he lifts a hand and gestures toward you.

"Come here." he says, his voice low.

Your heart skips a beat at the invitation, but you don’t hesitate. Shifting forward, you move carefully through the water, as you settle in the space between his legs. He reaches up, his hands brushing lightly against your shoulders, and the weight of them is reassuring, grounding.

“Would you like a massage?” he asks, his breath warm against your damp neck.

“Yes, please,” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.

His hands begin to move, firm but gentle at the same time, starting at the curve of your shoulders. His thumbs press into the tense muscles there, working out knots you didn’t realize were still lingering from the day. A sigh escapes your lips before you can stop it. His hands slide down, from your shoulders to your arms, taking a moment to squeeze gently at the tension in your biceps before moves on the muscles of your upper back. Every touch melts away the strain of the evening. The water sways gently around you both, the soft ripples lapping against your skin.

“You’re easy to please,” he murmurs, a faint smile audible in his tone.

“Not true,” you counter, though the words lack conviction “Okay, maybe a little true.”

“You’re good at this,” you admit, your voice drowsy from the combination of his touch and the heat of the bath. His hands move to the back of your neck, his thumbs pressing into just the right spot to make you exhale deeply.

“I know. I have good hands.” he replies with amusement in his tone.

You laugh softly, letting your head rest against his chest for a moment as his hands finish their slow journey over your back, neck, and arms. Then, his hands slide around you, wrapping gently across your middle. You let out a soft, contented sigh as you fully lean back against him. Sylus rests his chin against the top of your head as he adjusts to hold you more snugly, his breath tickling the crown of your head. For a moment, neither of you speaks. Your eyes flutter closed, and you know that his are likely closed too, the tension you sensed in him earlier replaced by a rare ease.

You shift slightly, turning your cheek to rest against his chest, and the subtle vibration of his breath hums beneath your skin. You rest your hands on his forearms, your thumbs to kneading gently into his muscles. He hums in approval, the low sound vibrating against you.

Sylus’ hands start to move, his palms gliding over your stomach, as they settle on the curve of your waist, his thumbs brushing against the sensitive dip of your sides. Your breath catches as his hands venture lower, skimming over your thighs. His fingers linger there, kneading the muscle with firm, expert precision, but your legs remain closed. A soft moan escapes your lips, and you feel Sylus’ breath against your neck as he leans forward. His lips press against the curve where your shoulder meets your neck, planting slow, languid kisses that send tingling warmth through you.

“Relax,” he murmurs, his voice a husky whisper. His hands shifting upward now, his fingers grazing just beneath the swell of your breasts, his touch featherlight, drawing another gasp from you.

Your heartbeat quickens as his hands finally move higher, cupping your breasts. His palms glide over the soft, wet skin, his thumbs circling your nipples in a way that makes you arch slightly against him, pressing into his chest. The combination of his teasing touch and the sensation of his lips against your neck leaves you utterly lost in the moment.

His lips trail higher, brushing against your jawline, before the warmth of Sylus' hands leaves your skin. His palms slide gently from your breasts before wrapping around your middle. He presses a kiss to your temple. "The water’s getting cold," he murmurs, his embrace tightening for just a moment.

You sigh, reluctant to leave the comfort of the tub and his embrace. "You’re right." you reply, your voice tinged with disappointment.

Sylus is the first to step out of the tub, water dripping down his toned physique as he offers you a hand. His grip is firm, steadying you as you rise, goosebumps spreading all over your wet skin. Your gaze unintentionally drops—and there it is. Your cheeks burn, and Sylus catches your look, a teasing smirk curling at his lips. “We’ll handle that later.” he says smoothly.

You bite your lip as you avert your gaze, heart fluttering as you grab a towel. After you dry off and pull on your bathrobe, the plush fabric warm against your skin, an idea pops into your head. Still slightly damp, you practically skip to your luggage bag.

Sylus watches you with a raised brow, leaning casually against the doorframe as he ties his robe around his waist. “What are you up to now?”

“Wait and see!” you say, as you unzip the bag and pull out the matching pajama set you’d hidden there—a playful, festive pattern of candy canes and gingerbread men. It smells faintly of your fabric softener, the scent wafting up as you hold it out to him.

Sylus takes the set from your hands, his eyes narrowing as he inspects the goofy design. He exhales a soft laugh, shaking his head. “Of course, you’d pick something like this,”

“You’re wearing it,” you say firmly with a giddy smile.

With a mock sigh of resignation, Sylus slips into the pajamas, the soft fabric snug against his frame. You bite your lip to stifle a laugh, but he catches the gleam in your eyes.

“Laugh it up,” he says. "I’ll remember this.”

You grin unabashedly, slipping into your matching set before leading him out of the bedroom and down to the kitchen, eager to make mulled wine. Sylus opens the wine bottle while you gather the spices and a small pot. The two of you move seamlessly, your bodies brushing now and then as you prepare. The smell of cinnamon, cloves, and citrus soon fills the air, mixing with the aroma of red wine. As the wine simmers gently on the stove, Sylus excuses himself briefly, heading toward the living room. Moments later, the faint sound of a match striking is followed by the soft crackle of the fireplace. The warm scent of wood begins to fill the air, mingling with the spicy aroma of the mulled wine bubbling in the kitchen.

When he returns to the stove, you leave the kitchen to him and go around the other rooms, gathering every pillow and blanket you could find. Then you go to the living room where you arrange them into a cozy nest on the plush rug, settling everything just right by the fire. Satisfied with your work, you sit down and wrap yourself in one of the soft blankets, snuggling into it as you hold a well-loved box of Travel Size Kitty Cards in your hands.

When Sylus steps into the room carrying two steaming mugs of mulled wine, his lips quirk into an amused smile as he takes in the sight of you, warm and snug, holding the deck of cards. “Do you really want to spend the evening losing to me at this?”

“Losing?” You pout, shuffling the cards with more determination now. “You think you’re so good at this game, don’t you? Luck doesn’t count as skill.”

Sylus arches a brow. “Luck is a skill when you know how to use it.” He says as he sits across from you.

You roll your eyes, finishing the shuffle and placing the deck between you. “Alright, three rounds. I’ll win at least two, and when I do—” you lean forward with a cocky grin— “we’re buying matching reindeer onesies tomorrow.”

He shakes his head. “Reindeer onesies? That’s your wager?” He pauses, feigning deep contemplation, then leans closer. “Fine. But if I win, you’re wearing the gift I got you for the rest of the night.”

Your cheeks immediately heat at his words, your mind conjuring up images of delicate lace. You try to play it cool, though your blush betrays you, and you can’t quite meet his gaze. “Oh,” you murmur, “alright. Deal.”

His eyes catch every flicker of your expression. “You seem eager for me to win.”

You sigh, grabbing the deck of cards and start setting up the game. “Don’t get cocky, Sylus.” But as you focus on your hand, you find yourself secretly rooting for him, curious to see what he has picked out for you.

“Let’s see, then,” he murmurs, his voice rich with confidence as he picks up his cards. “Try to keep up.”

⋆⁺₊❅. ♡ ︎⋆⁺₊❅.

Sylus shakes his head as he gathers the cards, sliding them back into the little box, his smug grin never leaving his face.

"First round victory got you cocky," he teases. "And that, kitten, was your undoing."

You narrow your eyes at him, crossing your arms. "The wine clouded my judgment," you huff, your tone a mix of irritation and playful defiance.

Sylus chuckles as he sets the box aside. "We both know that’s not true," he replies. "You’ve had, what? One mug? Hardly enough to make you lose focus. So, really… it’s just you."

His grin widens as he leans back on one hand, utterly at ease while you sit there pouting. The firelight catches in his eyes, and the smugness radiating off him is maddening.

You feel your cheeks flush—not just from the fire or the wine. He’s right; you’re not drunk. The wine has only left you feeling perfectly warm, relaxed and a little tingly. And, unfortunately, that buzz has also heightened your awareness of him—the way he’s watching you, the faint curve of his lips both infuriating and unbearably attractive. You grumble something unintelligible, sinking further into your blanket cocoon, but Sylus, with his insufferable smirk, isn’t about to let you escape the moment unscathed.

He rises gracefully from the rug and he strides toward the bedroom. You watch him go, the wine’s gentle buzz amplifying your anticipation.

What could it be?

Your first thought is lingerie—something delicate and lacy, designed to make you blush the moment you open it. A dress, perhaps? you wonder. But then you dismiss the idea with a shake of your head; Sylus has already gifted you a breathtaking dress for the holiday banquet earlier this season. Maybe it’s a ridiculous onesie, you think. A cat? A sheep? Something he’d insist you wear just to tease you mercilessly the entire night. The mental image makes your cheeks flush, not entirely from embarrassment—because, honestly, you’d probably wear it, just to see that rare, carefree laugh of his.

Before your thoughts spiral further, Sylus returns, with a small box in his hands. Your breath catches. The unmistakable blue hue and the satin white bow make your eyes widen. He settles down across from you, and holds the box out. His smiles softly. "One of the gifts I brought for you," he says. "I thought it fitting for the trip."

Your heart flutters as you accept the gift. You gently tug at the bow, setting aside the satin ribbon, and your fingers tremble slightly as you lift the lid of the box. Your smile stretches wide the moment you see the necklace nestled inside the box, a heart-shaped pendant glimmering in the room’s dim light. Joy bubbles up in your chest, and before you can stop yourself, you lunge forward, wrapping Sylus in a tight hug.

"Thank you," you murmur against his shoulder.

His arms hold you firmly for a brief moment before you pull back just enough to plant a smooch on his lips, quick and filled with gratitude. He smiles against your lips, his hand brushing over your back before you settle back into your spot to admire the necklace again. You lift the chain, examining every detail of the stunning craftmanship. But as your eyes adjust to the dim light, you notice something different. Your brow furrows, and you tilt the pendant closer.

The usual engraving isn’t there.

Instead, in elegant script, you read: Please return to Onychinus N109 Zone.

Your heart flutters, the customization turning an already beautiful gift into something deeply personal.

Sylus notices your pause and leans forward slightly, his voice low and warm. "It felt more fitting this way."

You glance up at him, and all you can do is nod.

"Let me," he says softly, reaching for the necklace. You hand it to him, and he moves closer, draping the chain around your neck. His fingers brush against your skin as he fastens it, sending a small shiver down your spine. He leans back to admire his work, his eyes gleaming as they move from the pendant to your face.

"It suits you," he says.

"Thank you," you say again, your fingers brushing over the pendant, feeling its cool surface against your skin.

Sylus’ lips curl into a playful smirk as his gaze dips briefly to your outfit. "But those pajamas don’t really go with it."

You roll your eyes at the comment, but as you replay his words, you stop. Your eyes narrow in mock accusation. "Wait…"

Wear my gift for the rest of the night.

Your face heats, a mix of embarrassment and excitement coiling in your stomach as you glance down at the necklace. You’re acutely aware of his presence, of the way his eyes haven’t left yours.

"I—" you start, but the words catch in your throat as he shifts closer to you.

Sylus’ hands move slowly to the hem of your pajama top, his fingertips delicately brushing against the fabric, his eyes locked on your face, waiting for your permission. Wordlessly, you lift your arms, and his lips quirk in a soft smile. He takes his time pulling the top over your head, the cool air of the room kissing your skin as it becomes bare. A shiver runs through you, goosebumps rising along your arms and chest as your pajama top is discarded.

"I’m going to be cold the rest of the night now," you pout, half-joking.

Sylus leans forward, his lips brushing against yours in a tender kiss. When he pulls back, he whispers against your lips. "I’ll make sure you stay warm."

His words send a jolt of heat straight to your core as he guides you down, his weight pressing you into the soft blanket beneath. Your legs part instinctively, inviting him closer. Sylus hovers over you, his lips finding yours in a slow, intoxicating kiss. The faint taste of wine clings to him, rich and heady, as his tongue teases yours. Your fingers thread into his hair, pulling him deeper, needing him closer. He growls low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your mouth as he rolls his hips, grinding his hardness against your craving heat.

The sudden pressure against your clothed pussy makes you gasp into his mouth, your body arching into him as you feel the hard length of him straining against the fabric of his pajamas. Sylus pulls back just enough to meet your gaze, his red eyes dark with hunger, his lips slick and swollen from the kiss. The firelight flickers over his sharp features, making him look devastatingly irresistible. His hips roll against yours again, grinding just right, pulling a desperate gasp from your lips as heat pools deep in your core.

He leans in, his breath tickling your skin before he drags his lips slowly along your pulse, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses that make your body arch into him. His tongue flicks over your skin, tasting you, the scrape of his teeth making you shiver beneath him.

He shifts slightly, his mouth traveling lower, trailing kisses down to your chest. A soft moan escapes your lips when his lips capture the peak of one breast. His tongue swirls around your nipple, teasing before he takes it into his mouth, sucking gently. At the same time, his fingers find your other breast, kneading it with care, his thumb circling the sensitive bud, the attention making you arch into his touch.

"Sylus," you whisper, his name tumbling from your lips as your fingers tangle in his hair again, holding him close to you.

He hums in response, the vibration adding to the sensation as his mouth continues savoring your body. His free hand skims down your side, tracing every curve, every dip, before settling at your waist. He releases your breast with a soft, wet sound, his lips immediately finding your belly. Then, his kisses trail lower, each press of his mouth against your skin making your impatience grow, but his hands steady your hips as his lips linger just above the waistband of your pajama pants.

His eyes flick up to meet yours. The way he looks at you—hungry, tender, and utterly devoted—makes your breath catch. The heat pooling between your thighs becomes unbearable, your panties damp with need as you writhe beneath him.

Finally, Sylus hooks his fingers into the waistband of your pajama pants and underwear, pulling them down in one smooth motion. His tongue darts out to wet his lips when he takes in the sight of you, bare and ready for him. Sylus starts slow, savoring every moment as his lips plant tender kisses along the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.

"You’re trembling," he murmurs, his hands gripping your thighs and spreading them wider. "So responsive... so beautiful."

The warmth of his breath fans over your dripping pussy, teasing, as he lets his lips linger just close enough for you to feel the ghost of a touch. Finally, his mouth moves to where you need him most. His tongue flattens against your folds, licking a long, slow stripe from your entrance to your clit, making you gasp, your hips bucking instinctively toward his mouth. His tongue circles your clit, before his lips close around the swollen bundle of nerves, sucking gently at first, then harder as he finds the rhythm that makes your moans turn into cries.

One hand remains on your thigh, keeping you spread open for him, while the other slides up. His middle finger traces along your entrance, teasingly dipping in before retreating, then plunging back in, this time to the knuckle. He groans against your clit, as if the sensation of you gripping his finger drives him just as wild. He adds a second finger, his long digits stretching you, curling just right to press against your sweet spot. The dual sensation of his mouth and fingers has you writhing beneath him, drawing you closer to the edge. His tongue flicks rapidly over your clit, his fingers pumping in and out of you, the wet sounds mixing with your breathless cries.

Your thighs quiver, and he knows you’re close - his fingers curl deeper, pressing harder against that perfect spot as his lips suck your clit relentlessly. Your orgasm rips through you with a force that leaves you breathless. Your walls clamp around his fingers as your body arches off the rug, your cries filling the room as the pleasure pulses through every inch of you. Sylus doesn’t stop, prolonging your high as his tongue and fingers coax every last tremor of pleasure from your body until you’re trembling, gasping his name in broken, desperate whines.

Finally, he slows, withdrawing his fingers and pressing one last lingering kiss to your oversensitive clit, his lips curling into a smug smile as he looks up at you, his chin glistening with your release.

"My beautiful girl," he whispers, as he kisses the inside of your thigh one last time before sitting up. "All mine."

He takes off his pajama shirt, and in one fluid motion, he pulls off his pajama bottoms, leaving him completely bare. Your breath hitches at the sight of him, his cock thick, long, and hard. His eyes lock onto yours as he leans down, positioning himself between your legs. You gasp softly as the tip of his cock glides through your folds, his length sliding back and forth, coating himself in your mixed fluids. The sensation alone has you trembling, your legs instinctively parting wider for him.

Then, slowly, he presses against your entrance, the thick head of his cock stretching you as he begins to slide in, his eyes locked on you as your body takes in every inch. When he bottoms out, he pauses, his hips flush against yours, his cock buried deep. The sensation of being so completely filled sends waves of pleasure radiating through your body, leaving you gasping. His weight shifts as he lowers himself onto his elbows, bringing your bodies closer, his chest brushing against yours. He captures your lips in a slow kiss, making your head spin. His hips start to move, rolling against you in a languid rhythm drawing soft moans from you.

You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, needing to feel more of him, your heels digging into his lower back. Your hands slide up to his shoulders, your fingers pressing into the taut muscles as he moves. His cock drags against your walls with each thrust, hitting spots that leave you gasping into his mouth. He swallows every sound, his kiss growing more feverent, his breath ragged as his body molds against yours. His hips grind against yours, his cock pressing deeper, harder, as you cling to him, your nails digging into his back.

Sylus’ pace begins to slow, his hips rolling more languidly as his lips break from yours.

“I need you closer.” he murmurs.

Without waiting for a response, he shifts his weight, one arm wrapping securely around your waist as he leans to the side, taking you with him. You gasp softly as your bodies roll together, your legs untangling briefly before one of his slips between yours.

Now on your sides, your bodies are pressed together so tightly you can feel his heartbeat. His arm stays snug around your waist, pulling you even closer, while his other hand cradles the back of your head. Your chest presses against his, and your hands rest against him, one lightly squished between your bodies. The other moves instinctively to his neck, your fingertips feeling his warmth, his pulse. Your leg hooks over his hip instinctively, granting him better access as his hips begin to move again.

The new angle makes you moan, his cock hitting even deeper, the angle forcing you to take all of him, and you clutch at his neck, your nails grazing his skin.

"My love." he whispers, his lips brushing against your temple as you press your face into his chest, overwhelmed by the closeness, the way he holds you like you’re the most precious thing in his world.

You tilt your head up to meet his gaze, your lips parting slightly. His eyes burn into yours, before his mouth captures yours in a deep, hungry kiss. The base of his cock presses perfectly against your clit with each thrust, the friction sending sparks of heat shooting through you. You’re helpless against the pleasure building inside, your breaths ragged and broken as his rhythm pushes you closer to the edge.

His hand on your back tightens, pulling you flush against him, the slick grind of his pelvis teasing that swollen, aching bud mercilessly. You arch into him, your nails digging into the hard muscle of his chest, and your gasps turn into needy, breathless cries.

“Just like that,” he rasps, his eyes stay locked on your face, devouring every flicker of pleasure that twists across your features. "Let me see you fall apart for me."

The way his cock fills you, stretching you with every roll of his hips, combined with the perfect pressure against your clit, is too much. Your body coils tighter, your thighs trembling where they’re hooked around his waist.

“Sylus…” you whimper, your voice trembling.

“Come for me,” he growls, one still cradling your head, the other pressing your back to him like he can’t stand even a breath of distance between you.

The tension inside you snaps, your body locks tight, your walls squeezing his cock with desperate intensity, milking him as a guttural moan escapes his throat. He thrusts into you harder, deeper, grinding his pelvis against your swollen clit, wringing every last pulse of pleasure from your throbbing pussy. Your cries fill the room, your entire body trembling in his arms. Sylus holds you through it all, his movements never faltering, his cock dragging against every sensitive spot inside you as you ride out your high.

"That’s it." he murmurs tenderly, his gaze never leaving your face, memorizing the way you look in this moment—completely undone, completely his.

But he doesn’t stop - his hips keep rolling into you, his cock dragging against the oversensitive walls of your pussy, the friction is almost too much.

"You feel so perfect," he groans, his voice vibrating through his chest where you’re pressed tightly against him.

Your legs tremble, locked tight around his waist, keeping him buried deep. Sylus’ thrusts turn frantic, slamming into you harder, rougher, the sound of wet, filthy friction filling the room. His cock twitches inside you, driving deeper with every thrust.

“Fuck,” he rasps, his voice rough, almost broken, as your name falls from his lips. His hand cups your face, fingers trembling as they stroke your cheek, grounding himself in the haze of his need.

His movements stutter, his cock throbbing, and with a guttural growl, he pushes into you one last time, spilling hot and thick cum inside you. His hips twitch helplessly, every pulse of his release sending a shudder through his body. He clings to you, forehead pressed to yours, his breath ragged as he groans your name one last time.

His name escapes your lips in a soft, breathless moan, and he captures it in a searing kiss. The kiss slows as his movements still, the room filled with the sound of your mingled breathing and the faint crackle of the fire beside you. Sylus doesn’t pull away, his arms still wrapped around you, and you rest your head against his chest. His hands roam gently over your back and shoulders now, as if trying to soothe the tremble in your muscles. He kisses the top of your head before he pulls back just enough to look at you.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his fingertips grazing your cheek with a featherlight touch.

You nod with a soft smile.

He leans down, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that feels entirely different from before—his mouth moves tenderly, as though memorizing the curve of your lips, savoring the taste, the warmth you offer. His hand cups your cheek, his thumb caressing the soft skin, grounding you both. When he pulls back slightly, his forehead rests against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the stillness. His gaze, when it meets yours, is soft, filled with adoration. You could stay like this forever.

#love and deepspace #lnds sylus #sylus x reader #love and deepspace sylus #sylus #lads sylus #sylus love and deepspace #sylus smut #sylus x you #sylus l&ds #lads smut #lads x reader #love and deepspace fanfic #sylus fanfic

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rafedarling · 2 months ago

Note

Drew losing his wedding ring 🤫 but he left it behind at home and y/n finds it inside his laundry basket she goes shit crazy looking for it and since y/n know she plays dumb wanting to teach him a lesson and she’s like baby I’m getting our rings cleaned l tomorrow can you leave your ring on the counter and he’s just rambling and coming up with excuses Intill he finds his ring will Drew continue to lie or confess

cute!!!

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐢��𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠

pairing: drew starkey x fem!reader

summary: drew, your husband who accidentally leaves his wedding ring in his laundry basket, prompting you, his wife to find it while doing laundry. instead of confronting him immediately, you decides to teach him a lesson by pretending not to notice while teasing him about getting plan taking your rings to cleaned.

warning(s): english is not my native language. fluff, humor, and playful teasing, slight secondhand embarrassment, wholesome, domestic vibes.

au: like, reblog and feedback are much appreciated. discussion can be send through my ask box, please feel free to send in anything. ⭐️ taglist | tagging: @rubixgsworld @rafeyslamb @bisexualcvnt @tracymbcm @maybankslover @anamiad00msday @stuffyownswrld @httpsdrewstarkey @mileyraes @enjoymyloves @akobx @noobmazter69 @victwrvale @xoxohoneymoongirl @xoxosblogsblog @wearemadeofstardust0 @saviorcomplexrry @percysley @littlelamy @winniemoe @emberaurora

It had been a long but pleasant evening, and as you glanced at the overflowing laundry basket in the corner of your bedroom, you figured it was time to tackle it. Drew was lounging on the couch, flipping through TV channels, blissfully unaware of the mischief you were about to stir up.

Laundry had become a bit of a ritual for you both; a chore that came with its own rhythm and quirks. Drew was the “dump-it-all-in-and-hope-for-the-best” type, while you meticulously checked pockets and separated clothes by color. And it was during one of these pocket inspections that you felt something hard and metallic inside the pocket of his jeans.

You pulled it out and froze.

His wedding ring.

Your brows knitted together as you stared at the small band in your palm. Drew was practically married to his ring he wore it everywhere, even in places he didn’t need to, like the gym or while swimming. It had been a running joke between you that he might as well glue it to his finger. So, finding it stuffed in his laundry was unusual, to say the least.

You chewed on your lip, debating whether to call him out immediately or let him stew a little. Then, with a devilish grin across your face. You slipped the ring into the pocket of your pajama pants, decided not to mention it, and returned to the living room. You’d let him sweat it out.

When you entered, Drew was crouched by the couch, pulling cushions off and muttering to himself.

“Babe, what are you looking for?” you asked, keeping your tone as neutral as possible.

Drew froze mid-search, then quickly straightened up.

“Oh, uh… nothing. Just… the remote.” He gestured vaguely to the couch, his voice a little too high-pitched to be believable.

You raised an eyebrow.

“The remote? The one sitting on the coffee table?”

You pointed at the remote, lying in plain sight directly in front of him.

“Oh.” He let out a nervous laugh, grabbing it. “Right. That one.”

You fought to keep a straight face as you handed it to him.

“Here. Anything else you’re looking for?”

“Nope! All good.”

He said it too quickly, his voice strained, as if he was trying to convince himself.

“Mm-hmm,” you murmured, heading back to the bedroom.

Once you were out of sight, you retrieved the ring from your pocket and tucked it into your jewelry box for safekeeping. If Drew was going to lie, you’d at least make it entertaining.

The next morning, you were up a bit late and padded into the kitchen to find Drew already there, nursing his coffee. His hair was adorably messy, sticking up in all directions, and he was wearing your favorite flannel pajama pants the ones you swore made him look cozier than ever. He grinned when he saw you.

“Morning, babe. Coffee?” he offered, gesturing to the pot.

“Yes, please.”

You slid onto the stool at the counter, resting your chin in your hand as you watched him pour. That’s when your eyes zeroed in on his left hand still missing the ring. You couldn’t resist any longer.

“Drew,” you began casually as he placed the cup in front of you, “uh…where’s your ring?”

He froze, fingers tightening slightly on his mug.

“Oh, uh… my ring”

He cleared his throat and quickly recovered, spreading his hands in front of him as if to inspect them.

“Right. My ring. I, uh, must’ve taken it off when I was… washing my hands last night. You know how slippery soap gets.”

You nodded slowly, playing along.

“Slippery soap. Got it.”

He relaxed slightly, clearly thinking he was off the hook, and took a long sip of his coffee. But you weren’t done yet.

“You know,” you said, feigning nonchalance,

“I was thinking we should take our rings in for a cleaning. They’ve been looking a little dull lately. How about I drop them off at the jeweler tomorrow?”

Drew nearly choked on his coffee. “Uh… cleaning?” he repeated, his voice cracking slightly.

“Yeah,” you said sweetly. “You can just leave your ring on the counter before work, and I’ll take care of it.”

For a split second, you thought he might actually combust.

“Oh, uh, sure! Totally,” he said, his voice pitched high with panic.

“I mean, it’s probably… in the bathroom. Or… maybe on the nightstand? Or, uh—” He stopped himself, clearly spiraling.

You tilted your head, giving him your most innocent look.

“Are you sure you know where it is? You seem a little… distracted.”

“I know exactly where it is,” he insisted, though the way his eyes darted toward the ceiling betrayed him.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Oh, I’m not worried.”

You sipped your coffee, pretending to be absorbed in your phone.

“I mean, it’s not like it’s that important, right? It’s just a ring.”

Drew’s head snapped up, his expression stricken.

“It is important!” he blurted out, a little louder than necessary. “I didn’t lose it, okay? I—uh…I just… misplaced it. Temporarily.”

“Of course,” you said, nodding sympathetically.

“That makes total sense.”

He let out a shaky breath, clearly not realizing you were toying with him. Over the next few hours, Drew became increasingly frantic, sneaking off to various rooms to search for the ring. You caught him rifling through the bathroom drawers, peering under the bed, and even checking the fridge at one point.

By evening, he was sitting on the couch, head in his hands. His usual confident demeanor had crumbled, and guilt was written all over his face. You decided it was time to put him out of his misery.

“Drew,” you said softly, sitting beside him, “is there something you want to tell me?”

He looked up at you, his blue eyes filled with regret.

“Okay, fine,” he admitted, throwing his hands in the air.

“I lost my ring. I don’t know how, I don’t know where, and I’ve been freaking out about it all day. I didn’t want to tell you because I thought you’d be mad, and”

You reached into your pajama pocket and pulled out the ring, holding it between your fingers.

“Looking for this?” you asked, unable to hide your grin.

Drew stared at the ring, his jaw dropping.

“Are you kidding me?” he asked, his voice a mix of disbelief and relief.

“I found it in your laundry last night,” you explained, laughing.

“I wanted to see how long it would take for you to confess.”

He groaned, leaning back against the couch.

“You’re evil, you know that?”

“Maybe a little,” you admitted, sliding the ring back onto his finger. “But you deserved it for lying to me.”

Drew pulled you into his arms, burying his face in your hair.

“I’m never taking this off again,” he promised, kissing your temple.

“Oh you better not,” you teased. “Or next time, I might just pawn it.”

He laughed, shaking his head.

“Remind me never to underestimate you.”

“Smart man,” you said, leaning against him with a satisfied smile.

#drew starkey #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey imagines #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey x you #drew starkey fanfiction #drew starkey fanfic #drew x reader #drew starkey fluff #drew starkey one shot #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey smut

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chleem · 2 months ago

Text

Mr & Mrs Starkey

One shot: husband drew x wife yn

Summary: In which your 5 year-old son catches you kissing santa claus, oblivious to the fact that it's just drew under the costume.

Genre: fluff, smut (shower sex , read at own caution

⋆.˚ please dont copy or translate my work!

♡⸝⸝ merry xmas! | mistletoe | halloween

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

You lean against the doorframe of the shared bedroom, watching ‘Santa Claus’ place wrapped gifts under the Christmas tree.

Drew’s movements are very sloppy, due to the big red suit he’s wearing.

“Seems like Santa needs to lose some weight,” you tease, not even trying to hide how funny you find his situation.

Recently, your son, Ben learned about Santa Claus and how he brings presents to kids, and like any curious five-year-old, he's completely captivated by the idea of ‘catching’ Santa. The details of his plan are a little hazy to you—he mentioned it about a month ago, but you forgot the specifics.

You told Drew that no costume was necessary; just eat the cookies on the table and put the presents in place. But Drew insisted. And now, here he is, awkwardly fumbling around in a full Santa suit.

Placing the last gift under the tree, he turns around, his white beard and hat threatening to slip off. His blue eyes meets yours with annoyance, lips pressed in a thin line. “Well, usually my elves do this.”

You giggle, finding Drew’s dedication to the part funny and cute. “Okay, Mr Claus,” you walk over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck, “take a break and have some cookies, huh?”

The annoyance in his eyes fade away, his shoulders relaxing under your touch. “You could’ve been my elf,” he murmurs, hands wrapping around your waist.

“But I’m Mrs Claus, remember? I stay home, do dishes, yadayada,” you joke, rolling your eyes dramatically. “leave the heavy work- important work to you.”

Drew parts his mouth, looking down at you with a knowing look.

“I did wrap the presents, didn’t I?” You continue to say. “Doesn’t that count for being an elf? I picked out the gifts, payed for it, set the tree up with Ben-“

Drew’s lips aggressively thrusts itself into yours; tongue fighting for access. You gasp into his mouth; taken aback by the abrupt action. That allows the slip of his tongue, tangling in with yours.

The cheap fake beard makes it hard to concentrate though; the rough hairs getting in between.

You pull away from him; eyes hooding with a soft smile on your lips. “Rude.”

“You talk too much sometimes,” he murmurs, a hand going up to cup your face.

“Isn’t that why you married me-“

He plants his lips on yours again, and you giggle against his lips.

Drew laughs too; the warmth between you two palpable, the quiet intimacy of the moment almost too perfect. Drew’s hand, still cupping your face, gently tugs you closer, his thumb brushing over your cheek in that way that always makes you melt. The kiss deepens, slow and soft, as if he’s savoring every second of it.

When you finally pull away, both of you breathless, you find yourself caught in his gaze. It’s that look—the one that makes your heart race, the one that feels like he’s seeing straight into you. You smile, your heart fluttering a little more than it should.

“Maybe I do talk too much,” you tease, your voice barely above a whisper.

He smirks, his fingers tracing along the line of your jaw. “You can talk as much as you want... as long as it’s with me.”

The attempt to sound sweet and lovely is ruined by your incapability of staying serious; because how could you, when Drew’s fake beard is crooked and he’s got this silly red suit with the big belly on?

“What now?” Drew murmurs, eyeing the silly grin on your face.

“I’m kissing Santa Claus,” you chuckle, reaching up to give his beard a playful tug.

He pauses for a moment, his eyes looking at you with a mischievous glint to them.

“You naughty girl,” masked with a chuckle, a seductive tone is laced in his words, matching the smirk that’s hidden beneath the white beard. Drew leans in again, catching you in another kiss.

This time, however, his hands start to roam around your body, feeling the material of your thick hoodie.

His lips travel down your neck, kissing wherever is exposed.

You let soft moans escape your mouth; the erotic feeling building in your lower stomach. With a hitched and breathless voice, you ask, “hey Drew?”

He lazily hums against your skin, hands resting just above your ass.

“Wanna help me shower?” you whisper seductively into his ear, tugging the Santa hat off his head.

Drew pulls back slightly, an amused smile tugging at his lips as he looks down at you. “Y’know you don’t need to ask…”

You plant a kiss on his jaw, soft but deliberate, before moving away, your hand tugging at his sleeve as you make your way toward the bathroom. But Drew doesn’t follow, a thoughtful look painted all over him.

“Stockings…” he murmurs, looking over his head at the fireplace, with the stockings that he needs to fill as ‘Santa Claus’.

You sigh, knowing exactly where this is going. After all, both of you are suckers for your son, always willing to put everything aside just to see his smile. You glance at Drew, trying to look annoyed, but the soft smile on your face betrays the affection you feel for him—and the family you’ve built together.

“Fine. I’ll shower alone,” you start, readjusting the fake beard he has on. “And I’ll leave Santa to his duties.”

“Thank you,” he sourly replies, his frown evident though the thick beard.

“Yeah,” you murmur, your lips matching the expression he has. You pat his shoulder, before turning around, making your way to the bathroom.

You make sure to add an extra sway to your hips, a lame attempt to convince Drew to ditch his costume and join you.

But nope. Not even when you start stripping, leaving the door open for him to peek.

——

The bathroom was thick with steam, the fog clouding the mirror as the water poured from the shower head.

You stand underneath the spray; getting ready to wash your body next.

When you reach for the soap, a much larger hand takes hold of yours, stopping you. You glance over your shoulder, and sure enough, Drew, who presses his body close.

“Hi,” you flirtatiously start, which comes out more hitched.

Feeling the soft press of his tip against your back, the breathing gets much harder to steady.

The temperature in here is definitely rising- not because of the shower.

“You mad?” Drew’s voice comes out low, a soft smile on his lips as he turns you around to face him.

You don’t miss the quick glance down to your tits; his gaze lingering longer there than it should be.

You cock your head to the side, pretending to think it over, but the teasing glint in your eyes gives you away. His hands move to your waist, rubbing circles over your skin, his blue eyes searching yours for an answer.

Your lack of response serves as an invitation for Drew to start planting kisses along your neck, lingering longer on your sweet-spots.

“Drew…” you softly moan, the thoughts forgotten as he starts sucking the skin on your neck. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, bringing him closer than he already is. His hands find themselves traveling down your body, squeezing your waist, ass, thighs, anywhere he likes.

“I like this,” he murmurs against your skin, as his hand squeezes your ass again.

“Mhm,” you lazily hum, running your hands through his wet hair, feeling his aroused dick brushing against your pussy. Shit.

His hands hook under your thighs; lifting you up effortlessly. And because of all the times you've done this, you instinctively wrap your legs tightly around his waist, pinning you against the tiled wall.

This position causes his dick to brush against your inner thigh; your tits brushing his chest.

“I like….”

Leaning against the wall, your gaze locks with his hooded blue eyes, feeling the weight of his stare on your lips. “…the way you take me in.”

You chuckle at Drew’s attempt at talk dirty, something you’ll always find amusing throughout your marriage with him. Okay, you liked it, but who were you if you didn’t play along with it? “Well, show me how much you like it.”

A dorky grin Drew fails to suppress shows on his lips, his hands’ gripping tightly on your flesh. His eyes flash down look at the closed proximity you both are in; before quickly flickering back up.

That makes the blood rush to your cheeks, a flush creeping over your skin.

“Gonna-“ he leans in and catches your lips in a messy kiss, his teeth pulling on your bottom lip. “-fuck your brains out.”

You breathlessly giggle at that too, your eyes softly focused on Drew, a smitten look in them.

Without another comment, Drew adjusts his hips, and you feel his cock slowly entering you. Glancing down, your breath hitches as he thrusts in; deeply nested inside.

“Fuck,” you moan out, tilting your head to rest against the wall.

The showering water that flows down might as well serve as lubricant- yet your walls still feel tight.

Your eyes close for a moment; and you feel Drew’s lips on your neck again- kissing hard enough to leave hickeys. He eventually trails down, lips coming in contact with your breasts.

He groans as your hands travel down his neck, before tightening around his shoulders. Your nails dig in, averting the pressure there.

“Drew…” you whine, hoping he starts moving, your eyes flustering open.

He pulls away, his mouth opened slightly with the same smitten look in his eyes. “…looking at you like this-“ he delivers a thrust to your core; the shock of it causing a loud moan to escape your lips. He chuckles at that, before finishing his words, “makes me wanna put another baby in you.”

“Shit,” you breathe out, as his hips start to roughly slam into yours; one of his hands coming up to play with your tits. The sensation of his thick cock thrusting into you is enough to blur out his words.

Your body bounces with each rough push his hips drill into your pussy- matching the moans escaping your mouth. He grunts, the sound matching the rising heat in the room, each exhale thick with the intensity building between you.

“F-feels so good,” you mumble.

“Feels good, yeah?” He chuckles lowly, repeating your words. You watch as a grin tugs itself at the corner of his lips, his blue eyes staring lustfully into yours. “Buried with my cock- you look pretty, babe.”

His words, the fast pace, his hands roaming all over sends an alarm to your core, your orgasm building and threatening to explode.

“Fuck,” you moan, your walls clenching around him as he readjusts you; allowing his dick to thrust into the familiarity of your g-spot. “I’m, c-close”

“Yeah?” Drew kisses the corner of your lips, his moves never stopping. “Right on my cock, baby.”

His lips catches yours again, kissing you clumsily and swallowing the soft sounds you produced.

The knot in your stomach goes undone- and you feel the warm liquid erupting out of you, over Drew’s cock. You clench around him again, as he continues his pace to chase out his own high.

His moves become sloppier, his lips pulling away as his dick twitches inside of you, his cream painting your walls white.

“Shit,” he chuckles, slowly pulling out to leave the tip inside you, just to push fully back in again.

You chuckle tiredly at that, as he shoves his cum deep into your cunt. “Oh, Drew…” your tone comes out almost like a whine, your throat going hoarse.

You don’t even try to hide how limp your body is, muscles giving out on holding onto Drew.

“My beautiful wife,” he almost purrs, blue eyes staring into yours in a smitten way that makes the butterflies in your stomach to fly widely loose. He sets you down on the floor slowly, helping you regain your balance.

You let his warm hands brush away the hair sticking to the side of your face, the shower head pouring warm water over both of you.

You stand in silence, staring into each other's eyes, both trying to regain your composure from the intensity of the sex.

“Love it when you talk dirty to me,” you suddenly say, your tone a mix of teasing and heat, a sly smile playing on your lips.

Drew catches onto that; his lips curving into a smirk. His hands slips back to your waist, settling there as if it belongs. “I’k what my girl likes.”

“Geez, what a man,” you tease, your breath catching as his fingers trace over your skin. “Knows what his girl wants.”

You lean in and kiss him briefly, yet pouring your emotions into it. He returns it; bringing one hand up to cup your face, angling it to allow access to his tongue.

Fuck.

After six years of marriage, he can still easily turn you on like a switch—effortlessly, every damn time.

You pull away, catching the fucked-out look in Drew’s eyes, the blue beaming down at you. “I’m sleepy,” you murmur, which was your meaning of ‘fuck me in bed, I’m tired’.

“‘Kay,” he murmurs, rubbing circles along your jaw, “let me, give you the princess treatment first, yeah?”

You snort at his words, as he reaches behind you to grab the soap. You don’t miss his low chuckle, even finding his own words funny.

You relax, and let Drew give you the luxurious ‘princess treatment’, cleaning you up and ready for bed.

——

Christmas morning

“Ben’s acting weird…”

You whisper to Drew, as you place the dishes into the sink. You spare subtle glances over at your son, sitting on the couch.

His attention is fixed on the TV, his new toy in hand—opened first, his excitement obvious.

Drew leans against the counter, sipping on the third cup of coffee he made this morning. Last night, well, both of you didn’t get much sleep. He furrowed his eyebrows at you, before shrugging. “No?”

“Um, not to you,” you keep your voice low, standing next to Drew as you both watch the living room.

During breakfast, Ben had been shy, avoiding your gaze and giving short answers to your questions. But he seemed perfectly fine when you tucked him into bed yesterday. “Did I do something last night?”

Drew snickers, and when you glance at him, he casually unzips his jacket. With a smug grin, he reveals the hickeys you’d left on his neck last night.

Shit. This man is a dad, and he can’t seem to be serious at all during times like this.

His grin escalates into laughter when you roll your eyes at him, pushing his shoulder lightly. “I’m serious. Ask him for me, will you?”

“Alright, alr- I’ll do it.”

Drew doesn’t move, taking another sip of his coffee.

You send him a glare, along with aggressively zipping his jacket back up.

“You mean now, got it,” he chuckles, putting the cup down. You shake your head at him, a smile reappearing on your lips as he walks away.

You busy yourself by scrolling through your Insta, liking posts you don’t care about. The soft whispers you hear are barely audible, drowned out by the TV and the occasional rumble of Ben’s toy.

It’s about two minutes in when you hear Drew’s throaty laugh through the house, Ben hurriedly yelling, “daddy! Quiet!”

“You got anything to support that?” Drew’s voice comes through, his attempt at keeping quiet failing miserably.

You glance up just in time to see Ben jump off Drew’s lap, rushing toward his room.

Meeting Drew’s gaze, you raise an eyebrow, skeptical. You walk over and sit down beside him, waiting for an explanation.

“You’ll see. It’s hilarious,” Drew says with a grin, clearly trying to hold back a laugh. You give him a sideways glance, not buying it for a second.

Ben runs back, his familiar blue eyes meeting yours for a split second before he quickly looks away.

“Wanna show Mommy what’s in your hand?” you chirp, your gaze landing on the toy camera you bought him a few months ago, now clutched tightly in his small hands.

He ignores you; walking straight into Drew’s arms.

“Well that’s rude,” you murmur, but both father and son remain oblivious, their attention now fully on the toy camera.

As you try to sneak a peek, Drew leans away with a mischievous grin, clearly enjoying whatever he’s looking at. Ben, on the other hand, glances at it nervously, his small brow furrowing in worry.

Your curiosity grows by the minute, heightening when Ben says, “is mommy in trouble?”

His big, doe blue eyes meets yours again, and he looks like a sad puppy (much like his dad sometimes). It melts your heart; again proving you could never be mad at this kid.

His dad, on the other hand, you might choke him to death if he doesn’t explain what’s going on right now.

“Why don’t you tell mommy?” Drew teases, his hand rubbing Ben’s stomach in an assuring way.

You can see the thought process on Ben’s face, the pout deepening as he concentrates. His small brows furrow, eyes narrowing in serious contemplation.

Finally, Ben points his little finger at you, his voice loud and clear. “Mommy kissed Santa Claus!”

Your mouth drops open in shock as your mind races through the events of last night. Shit. You kissed Drew, who was dressed as Santa. Then the shower together- But how did Ben catch you? Was he out of bed? Did he—

Drew flips the small toy camera’s screen toward you, revealing a paused video. There’s no mistaking it: it's you, mid-kiss, with Drew in his Santa costume.

Oh. So this was his great plan of catching Santa Claus. A hidden camera.

Your face flushes as you look back at Drew, who’s struggling to suppress his laugh. You quickly cover your mouth, trying to hide the matching smile creeping onto your lips.

“Oh, Ben, honey,” you start, your voice sweet but a little flustered. His eyes glance up at you, eagerly awaiting your response. Relax, he’s only a five-year old kid. “Santa needed help with the presents…and mommy helped him.”

You flash a small smile, hoping he’ll understand. Ben looks up at you with a puzzled face, clearly not buying it.

Dammit, five-year olds are getting too smart these days.

“Don’t worry; mommy’s on the good girls’ list,” Drew adds on, clearly enjoying this.

You shoot him a glare - really? “Ben, mommy would never kiss Santa,” you say firmly. “I was hugging him- see?”

“But you kiss daddy like that all the time,” Ben loudly comments, fidgeting nervously.

A soft laugh leaves Drew’s mouth, absolutely no help to his situation. Great, just another reminder to yourself to maybe keep the affectionate touches to a minimum around Ben in the future.

“Okay,” you start, trying to steer the conversation back to safer waters. “Yes, Mommy and Daddy kiss sometimes, but Santa—he's just, well, he’s just here to deliver the gifts. That’s all.”

You glance at Drew, who’s still trying (and failing) to hide his grin. “Right, Drew?” you add, shooting him a look that says get it together.

“Right, right,” Drew says quickly, trying to sound serious.

“So, Ben,” you turn your gaze back to your son, holding his tiny hand. Gosh, he’s adorable. “Santa's just doing his job to make Christmas magical. Okay?”

Ben nods slowly, his tiny face scrunching as he seems to take it all in. “Okay, mommy.”

You smile fondly at him, reaching your arms out.

He lets out a laugh that’s eerily similar to Drew’s, a lighter sound as he buries into your embrace. The sound of his laughter fills the room, bringing a sense of joy to your heart.

Somehow, with all its goofiness, it’s moments like this that make everything feel so right.

You press a kiss to the top of his head, as he snuggles against you, you can’t help but think—god, he’s basically a mini version of Joseph Andrew Starkey.

“Mommy loves you,” you say, as Ben pulls away.

“I love you too, Mommy,” he mumbles, his voice soft but genuine. Like every kid, though, his attention span is short. His eyes drift over to the Christmas tree, where a few presents remain under the glittering lights. “Can I open the rest?”

You nod at him, and Ben takes off immediately, racing towards the Christmas tree. You can't help but smile as you watch him grab the first big present in front of him, tearing it apart.

Although, your smile falters as your eyes drift back to Drew. He’s lounging on the couch, a lazy smile on his lips as he watches Ben, clearly amused.

Without thinking, you slap his stomach a bit roughly, causing him to flinch in his seat.

"Hey!" Drew protests quietly, his eyes widening in surprise as he looks at you. "What was that for?”

“Really? ‘Good girls’ list’?” you shoot back, raising an eyebrow at him.

He scoots himself closer to you, his smirk deepening, “you definitely took it like a good girl last night.”

Fuck.

You freeze, his words hanging in the air, sending a shockwave through your chest.

"God, you're impossible,” you groan, slapping his hand away, the one trying to slip under your cardigan.

Drew’s throaty laugh escapes again, wanting to further tease you when Ben interrupts the short conversation.

He proudly shows off the present he got from ‘Santa’; a toy truck that he’s been begging for since forever. His small hands grip the toy truck, eyes wide with excitement.

The warmth of the moment radiates off you, and everything else fades away. Ben’s joy fills the room, and for a moment, it’s as if time stands still.

The Christmas tree lights flicker softly in the background, casting a gentle glow, and the world outside feels distant, as if nothing else matters.

What a jolly merry Christmas.

-------------------------------

word count: 3.6k

ִ ࣪𖤐 a/n: i want drew's kids. and i hate kids. but i want his.

other | mistletoe | hallow's eve

#drew starkey #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey x reader #x reader #drew starkey x you #oneshot #smut #fluff #christmas #xmas

2K notes · View notes

bruhstories · 6 months ago

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sweet like honey ˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ ˚ ‧₊ .:･˚₊ *˚

summary: logan ended up spending his evenings in the bar across the street from your bakery, watching you do your job. he never approached you, never talked to you, but he always kept an eye on you, until he has a bad feeling. pairing: logan x fem!reader warning & content: swearing, violence, reader almost gets assaulted (but logan saves the day), she/her pronouns for reader, wade being wade, unprotected p in v, fluff, angst, lots of baking and mentions of food, slightly ooc logan (if you squint), slow burn, sex in a bakery wc: 6k

a/n: i don't always write, but when i do, it's a fucking thesis. unedited.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

Logan was never a fan of sweets. He hated chocolate, cheesecake, gummy bears — literally anything sweet. The only thing he could barely stomach was tiramisu, and only because it had coffee in it. Other than that, he steered away from sweets like they were the fucking plague.

Yet despite all that, he found himself enjoying the smell of freshly baked croissants, custard donuts, brownies, and whatever goods you baked in your little bakery, conveniently situated across the street from his go-to bar.

Cleverly named Flour Power, it was all pastel both inside and out, with little pots of hyacinths hanging from its window and a big sign above the entrance. Not that Logan ever went there, but he always walked past it when he went for a drink. Flour Power stood out from all the shops with its baby blue windowsills and bubblegum pink door. As much as he disliked vibrant colours, his eyes were always drawn to the bakery. But not because of how it looked or the way it smelled.

No, Logan strategically sat down by the window in the bar to see you. Every evening, he watched you sell everything you had on display, from wedding cakes to éclairs, greetings customers with a warm smile on your face. He watched you turn the sign from open to closed, lock the door, clean the display shelves, the counters, the only two tables and four chairs inside, and sweep and mop the floors. Then you disappeared in the back for a while, perhaps doing the dishes or preparing dough and frosting, before you walked out, locked the door again, pulled down the blinds over the big window on the right side of the door, and left.

It became a ritual for Logan to watch you. In a way, it brought him some peace, despite him never speaking to you. To him, you were innocence personified, the type of girl who made others feel better simply by being there, and he didn't want to disturb that peace.

Tonight was an ordinary night for the 200 year old mutant. He swirled the whiskey in his glass, drank it all, then went to the bar to ask for another round, killing time until you closed the bakery, then he could finally go back to the apartment. You closed at 7 for clients and left at 8:30 every evening except for Sundays, when you didn't work. Logan knew your schedule a little to well, even knew you opened for clients at 8 in the morning, but you were there much earlier, because he could smell the pastries at around half 6. This time, however, you seemed to have a bit more work. It was past 9, it was dark, and you still hadn't left, and Logan was slightly concerned.

He watched you like a hawk, how you tucked rebellious strands of hair behind your ear when you mopped the floor, how you wiped your hands on your cute little apron after you finished scrubbing the countertops. Logan thought you had extra orders from customers, perhaps a wedding cake. He scrunched his nose at the thought of having to try so many flavours only to pick a damn cake that he probably wouldn't enjoy anyway.

But finally, you were done.

It was almost 10 when you locked the door to the bakery, double checking to make sure it wouldn't budge. Then the blinds and off you went. Logan was satisfied to see you go, but the hairs on his back suddenly stood up, his nostrils filled with the scent of danger. Bitter, sour, it went straight to his brain, and so he finished his drink and left the bar, following you down the street but keeping a safe distance.

You walked past a group of drunk men, gripping your tote bag with your left hand and your keys with your right one. You've learned to place the keys between your fingers, like claws, in case someone attacked you. Going home at that time wasn't something you enjoyed, and you always tried to avoid working late, but sometimes that was inevitable. When you heard footsteps approaching you, you picked up the pace, but paranoia kicked in, and you didn't want whoever was following you to find out where you lived, and so you took a detour.

Logan was like your shadow, going everywhere you went, until he heard something drop in a dimly lit alleyway and he sped up, finding you round a corner, pinned to a wall by a man while another guy had his hand up your dress. It was too dark to see, but Logan didn't need eyes to know that was you. He could smell the vanilla extract and icing sugar and fear.

"Take my wallet!" You told the men, but they weren't there for the money. They wanted something else from you.

"Nah, doll, I'll take something else from you. Somethin' more precious than money." One of the men said, his breath reeking of alcohol, the cheap kind.

"Hurry up and fuck her, bro, I need my turn-"

Something flashed, then a shadow lunged at the second guy who couldn't even finish his sentence before he was struck down.

"Mike?" The man who pinned you against the wall asked, his hands trembling on your body. "Stop fucking around."

But Mike was seeing stars somewhere on the alleyway. It happened so quickly you couldn't understand what was going on. When your eyes finally adjusted to the darkness, you saw him, rough, handsome and very, very angry.

"Who the fuck are you?" The man asked, but all he got in response was a guttural growl. "Hey, man, I don't want any trouble. My girlfriend and I were just talking. Stay out of it." He grabbed you by the neck, dragging you away from Logan.

You seized the opportunity and wrestled out of his grasp by biting your assaulter's hand, dashing behind a bin.

"Ow! Fucking bitch!" He lunged at you, but Logan was quicker, piercing his claws through his shoulder and holding him in place.

"That's no way to talk to a lady." The mutant snarled, and you watched how his claws retracted before he punched the man in the face, effectively knocking him down.

He was the Wolverine. You had seen it all over the news, how he saved your universe, how he came from a different world. You couldn't believe he was the one helping you when you thought no one would save you in that moment.

"You alright, kid?" His raspy voice startled you and you barely nodded, still too shocked to move or speak. "You sure?"

You shook your head and tears rolled down your cheeks as you finally started to process what just happened. Logan scrunched his nose — comforting someone wasn't his strongest skill — and instead he picked up your bag and keys from the pavement.

"Shit, um, don't cry." He handed you your belongings, and you looked up at him with a frown.

How could you not cry when you saw your entire life flashing before your eyes? Logan swallowed a lump in his throat and offered his hand to help you stand up. You looked at his hand, reluctant to grab it. The only thing he could compare you with was a cat — cautious, yet curious.

"No claws." He said when he understood the meaning behind your eyes. "Come, I'll- um, I'll walk you home."

The invitation had you perk up and gain courage, and you quietly took the bag from his hand. He walked with you in complete silence, until you stopped in front of a building. You lingered, unwilling to go in. Logan asked if that was your place, and after you nodded, he offered to take you all the way to your apartment, which made you feel relieved. He could see it on your face when you sighed. You guided him up the stairs, constantly looking behind you to make sure he was there.

You stopped in front of a tall wooden door, keys in hand.

"Go on. I'll wait until you lock the door." Logan encouraged you.

"Can you stay?" You finally spoke, and your voice was sweet like honey, fitting for a baker.

"I don't know, kid-"

"Please." You looked at him with glossy eyes, pupils blown from the fear that hadn't left your body yet. The fear he could still smell.

"Yeah. Okay, I'll stay."

"Thank you."

Logan followed you in, and you flipped the light switch on before locking the door behind him. He looked around and, just as he expected, the apartment was a direct reflection of your bakery — clean, colourful and calm. There were recipes stuck to the walls with pink pins, and between them little paintings of sunsets, skies, flowers, cats. All things cute. They weren't framed, and so Logan figured they were hand-made, his assumptions confirmed by the easel in the corner of your living room.

Of course your sofa had to be colourful, too — mustard yellow with sage green cushions and blankets. Even your curtains were sage green. Despite the explosion of colours, Logan found himself enjoying being there. Not everything had to be brown, black and grey, he thought. Probably the only vibrant thing in his life was his suit, since the only people that brought colour were his friends, and they were gone.

"Drink?" You cracked the walls he put up around his heart with that sweet voice.

You shook a bottle of gin to get his attention and he nodded. Logan wasn't a fan of gin, but he didn't expect you to have any hard liquors. He watched you pull out two blue glasses from the kitchen cabinet, and of course they had to be funky, with white flowers on them.

"Where'd you get these?" He asked, swirling the drink in his hand.

"I made them. Kind of." You said. "Bought them from a charity store and painted the flowers. Do you want some tonic water?"

"Fuck no." Logan choked on his gin when you asked him that question. Simply being in a place so... colourful was enough. He didn't need a girly drink.

"I'm Y/N, by the way."

"I'm-"

"The Wolverine!" You cut him off a little too eager.

"-Logan. Call me Logan." He cringed when the beverage tickled his taste buds. It wasn't bitter enough for him.

"Logan. Thanks for tonight. Is there any way I can repay you?"

The question was riddled with innocence, but he couldn't stop the degenerate thoughts that popped in his mind when you asked him that. You were just so pure that he wanted to both protect you and ruin you.

"Don't mention it. I couldn't just walk past without doing anything." Logan lied, because, really, he wasn't just walking by, was he? No, it was downright stalking.

"I could bake something for you." You offered and he shook his head.

"I don't like sweets, kid."

"What?" You were baffled. "Everybody likes something sweet."

"Not me." He shrugged. "All I like is tiramisu and only if those biscuits are doused in coffee."

"Ladyfingers." You corrected him with a chuckle. "They're called ladyfingers."

"Bullshit."

"I'm serious! Here!" You rushed to your pantry and pulled out a whole box of them, showing Logan the name.

"That's just stupid." He shook his head. "Who calls them ladyfingers?"

"Uh, everyone?" You laughed at his surprise, and the thoughts of your bad evening slowly dissipated, like a bad dream.

Logan truly was clueless about baking, but spent hours listening to you talk about types of sugar, extracts and their uses, and the difference between baking soda and baking powder in cooking. You rambled on and on and not once did he get bored. He could listen to you talk for hours with your voice soothing. Logan thought about it, and he genuinely never met someone like you before. The women in his life were all so different, but you took the cake. You were special in ways he couldn't understand. And he was just so drawn to you.

"I'm sorry, I haven't stopped talking once!" You apologised, realising how safe you felt with him there. You would never let a stranger inside your house, let alone talk about baking while having gin. But Logan wasn't a stranger. Not after he saved you.

"'s alright. It's not every day I learn about baking." He chuckled, finishing his drink. "Listen, I should get going."

"Right." You sighed, eyes darting at the floor. "No, of course. I've kept you too long."

Logan got up and you walked with him to the hallway. He was slow to put his leather jacket on, as if he was waiting for you to say something, anything, but when you didn't, he unlocked the door and opened it.

"Hey, Logan?" You tugged at his sleeve, whispering so you wouldn't wake your neighbours. "Are you sure I can't bake you something? Not now, I mean. I really want you to try something besides tiramisu. And that way I can repay you."

"Hell, why not?" He shrugged.

"Great!" You beamed at him like a child on Christmas day. "Stop by my bakery tomorrow at twelve. It's on Granville Street."

"I thought you didn't work on Sundays."

"Oh, how'd you know?" You quirked a brow at him.

Caught red-handed.

"Educated guess."

"Fair enough." His answer satisfied you. "Be there or be square!"

Sleep was for the weak. All night, Logan tossed and turned and abused his poor pillow with with punches. The mere thought of seeing you, no, interacting with you, had him wriggle like a worm on the mattress. It didn't help that Wade instantly noticed something was up.

"Oh, my, did you shower, peanut?"

"Not today, Satan." Logan poured himself a cup of coffee.

"Mmm, and what do I smell?" Wade sniffed the air. "Wait, is that my perfume?"

"Forgot to pack mine when I swapped universes." The Wolverine barked back.

"Hah!" Blind Al chimed in from the living room. "I think tall, dark and handsome here has a date!"

Logan rolled his eyes while Wade pouted, plopping on the sofa next to Al.

"You never called me that."

"That's cause you’re a degenerate." The woman snorted.

"Takes one to know one, doesn't it- ow! Stop hitting me with your cane, I know where you hide your nose candy!" Wade fought back.

"Touch it and I'll bust a cap in your ass!" Al scoffed.

"And I'll regenerate."

Logan used the opportunity to slip into the hallway, but his roommate was quicker, and blocked the door.

"You're not going anywhere until we have the talk."

"The talk?" The Wolverine snorted.

"Ah, they grow up so fast." Wade told Al. "Now, son, when a man and a woman love each other-"

"I'll give you three seconds to fuck off."

"Oh, but I need to know everything! Who is he?"

"She." Logan rolled his eyes.

"Oh my god, is this you coming out to us? Al, he's straight! I promise we love you anyway." Wade went for a hug and all Logan could do was accept it. He learned to live with Wade, even though he dislocated his jaw a few times after he moved in.

"Alright, that's enough."

"Nooo, we're just getting started. Name? Age? Occupation? We could do a double date with Vanessa-"

"Absolutely fucking not." Logan pushed Wade off of him.

"Okay, okay. Just make sure you wrap your willy, and if you need any advice, daddy's here." Wade opened the door for his roommate.

"Actually." Logan lingered in the hallway. "What kind of flowers do girls like?"

The blinds to the bakery were closed but you were inside, pastries in the oven and dessert in the fridge. You couldn't help yourself and prepared something savoury as well, in case he didn't like the lemon cake. A knock on the door startled you, and you rushed to check who it was.

Logan stood there, a bouquet of peonies in his hand. You welcomed him in with a smile, but he could tell it was different than the one you flashed your customers. It seemed more genuine. And it felt like a date.

"These are for you." Logan handed you the flowers, taking in the scent of pork pies. "I thought you were gonna bake something sweet." He flared his nostrils.

"I did, I just thought I should have a plan B in case you didn't like my cake." You placed the bouquet in a vase on one of your tables. "How did you know I liked peonies?"

Logan couldn't believe Wade was right about those damn flowers. And there he was, thinking roses would be better. Maybe the Merc with a Mouth wasn't so bad after all.

"I had a hunch." He shrugged.

"Well, Logan, I love them! Now sit, sit!" You ushered him to his seat. "I hope you're hungry, because there's a lot for you to try."

"A lot? I thought you'll make me a cupcake or somethin', bub."

"A cupcake?? Don't be silly." Just as you said that, the oven made a loud ding sound, and you turned on your heels, heading in the back.

Logan waited patiently, observing every little detail from the front of your bakery, from the spotless display shelves to the neatly organised paper bags, to the fairy lights around the window. It was obvious to him that you had put your mind, body and soul into this bakery, and his expectations were quite high after all the fuss you made. But he decided to be nice not matter how the food tasted. He couldn't bear seeing you upset if he didn't like what you made.

You reappeared with a tray in your hand, and on it two plates, one with a small pork pie, one with a croissant, and a cup of coffee. Hell, even the cutlery was cute, with swirls engraved on the handles of the fork, knife and teaspoon.

"I decided to leave the cake for last." You said, placing the tray in front of him. "This is a simple pork pie, start with that." You urged him. "Careful, it's hot."

The Wolverine struggled with the cutlery, too small for his large hands, and the brief thought of slashing the pie with his claws crossed his mind, but he decided to be civil. You watched him butcher the food, eager to see his reaction, but he was taking his time.

"I'll let it cool off a bit."

"Ooh, that's probably a good idea." You nodded.

"Aren't you having some?" Logan asked.

"Noo, no. I like to bake for others, not for myself."

"So what do you eat, then?" He sipped on the coffee.

"Instant noodles usually. I'm too tired to cook when I get home. I do occasionally have leftovers, but whatever isn't sold I take it to the local shelter." You explained.

Christ, you couldn't be any kinder. Logan was stunned by your beauty and your soul, which was why he decided that after today, he will stop any interaction with you. He couldn't ruin you, not with his lifestyle, not with the danger that followed him everywhere.

The only problem was that the conversation flowed naturally, and he felt safe with you, just as you did with him. Like you were the missing piece to his puzzle. Logan pushed away those thoughts and decided to try the food. He took a large mouthful of the pie, chewed and swallowed, and you waited expectantly.

"Shit."

"What? Is it bad?" You jumped from your seat.

"Fuck, this is the best pork pie I've ever had." Logan wiped his mouth with a tissue you provided. "I'm serious, kid. Did you put drugs in it?"

You laughed, shaking your head as he finished the rest of the pie. He truly seemed to enjoy it, and you felt so satisfied. But the real test came after.

"Pistachio croissant." You said. "I thought about making almond ones, but I figured pistachio wasn't that sweet."

"Right, let's see." Logan took a healthy bite out of the pastry, and lo and behold, he closed his eyes, leaning back in his chair. If heaven had a taste, it would be that damned croissant.

"Is it good?"

"Good? Jesus, this is the best one yet." He finished the rest of it, the pistachio cream tickling his taste buds in all the right ways. "Who taught you to bake like this?"

"My grandma. She was the best cook I knew." You smiled.

Logan noticed your use of past tense, and he didn't want to bring up any bad memories. He wasn't the nosy type, but something possessed him to ask you about your life, your family, your favourite colours. He needed to know more about you, and you answered all his questions, opening up to him like a flower in bloom. But when it came to him talking about himself, Logan was reluctant.

Talking to Wade was easier, because Wade didn't take anything seriously, nor did he ask personal questions. Well, he did, but in his own stupid way that provided Logan some distraction, as well as a reason to punch him. But with you it was different. He felt like he owed you serious answers that he wasn't yet ready to tell a stranger who made a mean pistachio croissant.

"The cake!" You spun on the chair, changing the subject when you saw Logan dodging your questions like bullets.

Although he didn't say it, he was grateful that you didn't put any pressure on him to talk. He wasn't a talker. That was definitely Wade. You came back with the whole cake, and it looked so good that Logan didn't want you to cut it. Perfectly round, a layer of cream in the middle and white frosting on top. You even went so far as to decorate it with all kinds of yellow flower petals and what seemed to be mint leaves.

"Alright, hit me. What's this one called?"

"I call it the Mojito Cake. The sponge cake has lemon zest, the cream is made of lime, mint and rum syrup, and the frosting is buttercream with a dash of actual rum." You explained.

"Shit, I can't tell if that sounds disgusting or incredible."

"Only one way to find out." You cut him a thick slice, and Logan wasted no time trying it.

"I think you found yourself a new customer."

"You're too nice."

"I'm anything but nice, kid." He took three more spoonfuls. "But I ain't a liar. This is delicious." Logan spoke with his mouth full and it made you chuckle.

"Oh, there's a bit of frosting on your face."

"Hm?" He used the tissue to wipe his chin. "Did I get it?"

"No, it's still- here, I'll get it." You leaned forward and delicately ghosted your thumb over the corner of his mouth, eyes locked with his.

Without thinking about it, you dragged your tongue over the frosting, and Logan couldn't look away from you even if he wanted to. A gesture so innocent, but it destroyed any form of restraint. He pressed his lips onto yours, tasting the rum and the cream, but before you could kiss him back, he pulled away.

"Sorry. Sorry, I shouldn't have-"

You gave him no time to finish his sentence when you placed your hands on his shoulders and kissed him with fire on your tongue. God, he hated being touched, but when you did it, he melted in your hands. Lust battled reason and prevailed, and you found yourself straddling Logan's lap, arms around his neck and chest pressed against his.

His large hands found their way under your dress, fingers digging in the plush of your thighs until a moan escaped past your lips. Logan could've sworn you were pure in all ways — a virgin — so, naturally, he was surprised to see you eager to jump his adamantium bones.

With the last shred of reason left in you, you glanced at the door and window to make sure they were covered, and pushed Logan's jacket off his shoulders, peppering his neck with soft kisses. He wasn't the gentle type, no matter how hard he tried, and he didn't need to be when he felt your hips grind in his lap. It was more than obvious that you wanted him then and there.

Logan lifted you up as if you weighed nothing and slammed you down the empty table. His roughness sent a chill down your spine, because you really wanted him to manhandle you from the moment he stepped foot in your bakery. He kissed you again, pressing his whole against yours until your back hit the table. You felt like a cornered animal with nowhere to go, and the thrill of it turned you on.

"Are you sure you want this?" Logan asked despite you unbuckling his belt.

"I don't want this, I want you. I need you to fuck me so hard I can't walk." You unzipped his jeans, and although he was taken aback by your sudden use of filthy words, he couldn't deny he enjoyed seeing that side of you.

"Greedy little girl." Logan's hand slithered between your legs, fingers rubbing circles over your clothed clit. "Shit, you're soakin' wet. Can feel it through your fuckin' panties already." He flared his nostrils, taking in the scent of your arousal.

With his jeans loose around his waist, you palmed his cock through his boxers, and it didn't shock you for a second that he was rock hard. What did shock you, however, was the size of it. It was probably the biggest you've ever taken, and you didn't want any other man anymore.

You tugged at the waistband of his boxers, making it clear that you didn't want to waste any more time. Not that you didn't want to suck his dick or explore every inch of his body and worship it the way a man like him deserved it, but you were impatient.

Logan got the hint when you whined and scoffed, and he tore the pink panties off of you, tossing them on the floor. At least he had the decency not to put them on the table, which you were going to disinfect anyway. He pushed his boxers down, and you propped yourself on your elbows to look at him, and it was a sight for sore eyes indeed. He had perfectly sculpted abs, you could see them under the half-lifted t-shirt, but it was his cock that made your mouth water.

"Like what you see?" Logan was smug, confident in his good looks.

"I need to permanently imprint this image on my retina." You told him, and he couldn't help the chuckle.

"Likewise. Now spread 'em."

"Yessir!" You very quickly obeyed, parting your legs for him, and Logan couldn't deny that he enjoyed being in control.

He wasn't one to take orders, nor give them, but watching you comply scratched an itch he couldn't get rid of. Logan pressed the tip of his cock against your slick folds, earning another whine from you. You bucked your hips, craving more, and he scoffed.

"That desperate, hm?"

"You have no idea." You dug your manicured fingernails into his shoulders, bracing for temporary pain, because you knew damn well it would hurt.

"I don't know, I didn't hear you say please." Logan frowned, and you understood what game he was playing. A game you yearned to be part of.

"Oh, please, please, please fuck me, Logan! I'll be so good for you! I'll do anything you want." You clung to his shoulders, bringing yourself closer to him. "I'll even take it in any hole you want." You whispered, dragging your tongue over his lips.

"Shit." Logan was weak in the knees from your words, and the worst part was that he believed everything you said. But there was a time and place for everything.

You were the perfect mix of sweet and spicy, and you begged so nicely that the Wolverine just couldn't say no. You felt the leaking tip of his cock push past your folds and you audibly gasped at the size of it, drawing blood from his skin with your fingernails.

"It won't fit-" You whined with lust in your voice.

"I'll make it fit." Logan promised, painstakingly slowly thrusting into you.

He gave you time to adjust to his girth, constantly checking if you were alright, if you wanted him to carry on or stop, and while you loved that he was so caring, you needed him hurry up and fuck you.

To assure him that you would survive his monstrous cock, you planted a soft kiss on his nose, and there it was again, the change in your personality, from sultry to innocent. It was as though you embodied everything he ever wanted, and his desire to never contact you again went down the drain. How could Logan ever leave someone like you?

"I'm ready." You nodded, and he pressed his forehead onto yours, slowly rolling his hips.

You weren't ready, because it hurt like a bitch when he stretched out your velvety walls. But the pain was soon replaced by pleasure, and Logan picked up the pace when your whimpers turned to moans, and the slight frown on your face disappeared.

"So tight." He hummed, forehead resting against yours.

Were you tight, or was he just so incredibly big? Either way, you were a panting mess already, clinging to him for dear life, and Logan forgot his worries, even if it was just for that one moment. You were too good to be true, with your parted lips and glossy eyes — a beautiful sight for his sore eyes.

"Fuck, I- fuck!" You wrapped your legs around his waist, the table screeching under you. Not a single coherent sentence could come out of your mouth. "Logan, shit, I-"

"What's the matter? Need something?" He cooed, fingers bruising into your hips. "Use your big girl words."

"Need it ha-harder!" You cried out but he slowed down, confusion written all over your face.

"Where are your manners?"

"Please, daddy, please give it to me harder!"

The term of endearment had Logan quirk a brow at you, but he wasn't surprised in the slightest that you had a daddy kink. And he basked in being called that.

"Are you sure you can take it?"

"Yes!" There was no hesitation in your response. "Fuck, yes!"

Logan growled when he felt your pussy clench around his cock, and he delivered, thrusting deeper, harder and faster into you, until the sound of skin on skin echoed in the bakery, and your breathing became heavier.

"Fuuuuck, I can feel it in my gut!" You threw your head back when the tip of his cock brushed against your cervix.

"Filthy. Little. Slut." Each word came with a thrust and a groan, and he filled you up so good, you became addicted to him.

Your toes curled up, and your legs began to twitch when you felt your orgasm build up. Each push and pull made your vision blurry, and Logan's grip on you tightened as his hips stuttered. He was feral, and he was close, you could feel it in your bones.

"Fuck, Logan, do- oh- don't stop!" Words spilled from your mouth incoherently, and after a few more thrusts, pure bliss rushed through your body.

"That's it, let go." Logan buried his face in the crook of your neck, slamming hard into you until all you could do was chant his name like a prayer.

You felt him fill you up, pussy hot and sticky and sore, and he slowly pulled out, eyes darting at the tissues on the table. He grabbed them, gently cleaning you up, and you couldn’t stop the grin on your face. There was just something about a man like him be so gentle. And you were absolutely delighted to have him take care of you.

"You know," Logan said licking his lips, "I'm beginning to think you didn't want me to just taste your pastries."

"True." You told him smugly. "But you liked them."

"I like you more." He blurted out without thinking.

You felt your cheeks burn at his sudden honesty, and after sliding up your underwear and fixing your dress, you planted a soft kiss on his cheek.

"I like you too, honey badger."

"Don't ever call me that again." Logan chuckled.

"Not happening. Now, could you pleaaaase help me clean up this place? The last thing I need is a surprise hygiene inspection tomorrow."

He couldn't even imagine what the inspectors would do if they found out you had sex in a bakery, and with a nod, Logan zipped up his jeans and began disinfecting the tables and chairs while you swept the floor.

In less than half an hour you were done, and the shop was squeaky clean. You were satisfied with the end result, and told Logan that you wanted him to have the rest of the cake, pies and croissants. He thought Wade and Al could eat something, and decided to accept your offer.

"Can I come with you? There's quite a few boxes of food." You told him, a sheepish grin on your lips.

"Is that your way of finding out where I live?"

"Maybe. I'll go home if you don't want me with you."

"No, you're good." Logan assured you. "Besides, I'm sure my roommate's gonna devour everything. He'll probably lock you up in our apartment and force you to bake for him."

"I don't know if that's a threat or a promise." You laughed.

"Both. It's both."

You walked with Logan down the street, boxes in your arms, and you were surprised to see him open up to you more. He answered almost every question you had, and you felt him more relaxed. And he was. Logan forgot how much he needed that kind of connection with someone. You were so easy to talk to, you didn't judge him, and most importantly, you listened.

He guided you up the stairs to his apartment and knocked on the door, because he couldn't reach his keys with so many boxes in his arms. You baked for a damn army.

Wade opened the door, and you were taken aback by his appearance, but it didn't scare you. Instead, you introduced yourself as Logan's personal baker, earning a chuckle from him.

"Come on in, Martha Stewart." Wade opened the door enough for you to walk through it with the boxes and not drop them.

"Wade." Logan came back from the kitchen with a croissant. "Eat. Seriously, eat."

You watched Wade wolf down the pastry without hesitation and his eyes lit up. He chewed and swallowed, then moaned, eyes rolling back. The look of disgust on Logan's face was priceless.

"Holy fucking shit, Y/N, what the fuck did you put in this?" Wade grabbed your shoulders, giving them a good shake. "It's so flaky and creamy and buttery, like a bunch of unicorns came in my mouth."

"I'm glad you like it." You giggled. "Try the cake."

"There's cake?!" He ran to the kitchen, leaving you and Logan in the hallway before coming back, a slice of half-eaten cake in his hand. "I am officially impressed. Can you make Rocky Road?"

"Yes."

"Dulce de leche?"

"Yep."

"Baklava?"

"Uh-huh."

"Schwarzwälder Kirschtorte?"

"Yes, Wade!" You rolled your eyes, then turned to Logan. "Sugar rush?"

"Oh, you have no idea. And this is him on a good day."

"Listen, sweet cheeks, if old man fuckface here won’t marry you, I will. Just don’t tell Vanessa." Wade whispered.

"Don’t even think about it, you degenerate limp dick."

"Ugh, fine. And here I was hoping all four of us could be a happy dysfunctional family. Five if you count Al. Six with Colossus. Wait, actually, eight with-"

"Wade, have you tried the pork pies?" You asked, effectively shutting him up.

Yeah, Logan could definitely get used to being around you from now on to sweeten up his life.

#logan howlett #wolverine #mcu #logan howlett x reader #logan howlett smut #wolverine x reader #wolverine smut #fem!reader #marvel #deadpool 3

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sexlapis · 1 year ago

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[◉°] … NANAMI KENTO & Y/N BEING A COUPLE FOR 10 MINUTES STRAIGHT… 429k views

⁺ 🧃　 ♡ ₊﹒ ⌣

꩜: actor!nanami x actress!reader

⤷ a short compilation of y/n & nanami moments!

sfw, fluff, accidental kisses, ooc nanami kinda

. art credits to @/osusiudon on twitter

masterlists

౨ৎ first clip

“whereee is nanamiiii?” you whine, filming yourself as you walk around the set, trying to find your favourite cast member. you walk through a door. “nanamiii-oh there he is..”

you look surprised and then you tell the camera, “shhhh..nanami is asleep..”

you tiptoe towards where he lays passed out on a couch with his costume goggles right beside him. you turn the camera around to face nanami, his mouth agape as little snores passed through.

“awwww.. he looks so cute..”

you put the camera close to his face, making nanami look funny. “haha..i’m so keeping this-”

nanami snorts suddenly and shifts in a rapid movement, shocking you and making you drop your phone on his poor face.

“ahh!” you cry. fumbling ensues before you get your camera upright again, pointing it at a now awake, disappointed looking nanami, sitting up on the couch as he stares at you blankly. his hair is messy, tie askew and his eyes tired.

“sorry nanami…did i wake you??”

“…”

nanami sighs and rubs his eyes. “i don’t know _____. did you barge in here, record me and drop your phone on my face?”

“…oops?”

nanami stares at you some more and then you pat his head in apology.

“sorry, nanamin…”

he sighs again. “why are you like this…”

౨ৎ second clip

the paparazzi secretly filmed you and nanami exiting a store (which they had followed you both to). now of course, fans criticised said paparazzi, but after seeing the video themselves…they couldn’t be all that sad about it.

you and nanami walk out of the automatic doors, arms linked and nanami carries the shopping bag.

you’re eating your little treat, strolling with nanami to the sidewalk when he points to your shoes, noticing that your laces are undone.

he speaks and you just shrug, continuing to eat, uncaring of your unlaced shoes that are a hazard.

nanami has you hold the grocery bag temporarily and then kneels down and ties your laces securely, all the while you chew on your food and smile down at him.

he stands up and takes the bag from you to carry once more. you inaudibly talk before linking arms with him again and resting your head on his shoulder while you both walk away.

౨ৎ third clip

the director yells cut and you are immediately running towards nanami and throwing your arms around his shirtless waist, careful to avoid the very intricate, realistic body paint covering half of his body.

“nanami! please don’t dieeeee!” you cry, looking up at him, “who’s going to be my emotional support actor?”

nanami huffs and pats your back, “_____…i won’t disappear..i’ll still be on the set…”

“it’s not the same!” you grumble into his chest. “it’s like you died for real!”

“no it’s not. i’ll visit everyday until this series ends.”

“really?” you look up at him, eyes glossy, “you better not be lying. promise?”

“yes, i promise.” he sighs fondly.

“okay..”

still hugging him, you turn to look at the camera and blatantly check out his shredded torso and thick, strong arms. nanami just stands there, confused.

you rest your head on one of his pecs, looking at the camera and smiling. “i get to do this everyday, you know.”

nanami scoffs and shakes his head at you. you are unbelievable.

౨ৎ fourth clip

you and the a few members of the cast of jujutsu kaisen had agreed to play a game of “silent library”for charity and nanami had agreed to play too, which shocked both the cast and the fans considering nanami rarely participated in games like this.

nanami has struck luck so far but it runs out on the sixth round.

the cards are handed out and suspense rises when you all quickly flip them over.

you groan out loud before slapping a hand over your mouth when you see that you’ve received the death card.

looking around, you notice that nanami and gojo also share the same card, and you point at them confused, while the members who are safe sigh in relief and thank god.

nanami closes his eyes and gojo slumps in his chair dramatically, making a weak noise in his mouth. you snort. you’re quickly hushed.

the name of the game is presented, “suck and blow”, and poorly stifled chuckles ring around the room. you rub your eyes, already dreading what’s about to come.

gojo eyes you, making a come hither motion with his long finger and swear at him silently. nanami is silent and looks between the two of you blankly.

the aim of the game? all three players must pass plastic card between them with only their lips.

your head falls onto the table, gojo is grinning and nanami is, as always, sighing.

the three of you sit on stools, with yourself insisting on being in the middle.

“i could’ve sworn i’ve had a dream just like this…” gojo whispers and nanami is leaning all the way around to smack the back of his head. gojo gasps and utahime scolds at him to shut his mouth.

the plastic card is given to gojo and the timer begins. he sucks it to his lips, cheeks hollow and he looked very stupid. gojo grabs your head and presses the card to your lips, making it seem like you are both kissing. you grunt and begin smacking the side of his face. suppressed laughter can be heard around you as you forcefully pull away from gojo.

you purse your lips, holding the plastic card on them as best as you can and turning to face nanami. he leans in, ready to get this over with.

it happened so fast.

nanami’s face is close to yours as you move to transfer the plastic card to his lips..and then the card falls.

it falls and you’re kissing nanami for half a second.

you gasp and pull back, embarrassed and covering your face.

you hear a squeal, a loud gasp and shocked laughter as you drown in shame. nanami sits there, fiddling, not knowing what to do with his hands and his face is clearly pink.

gojo teases you both to no end and the timer is already up.

it’s safe to say you all lost that round.

౨ৎ fifth clip

nanami is forced to go on a talk show (as he claims his manager made him do it ).

his responses are perfect and polite - nanami clearly has some sort of media training or an upper class background of some sort. it’s like nothing could catch him off guard whatsoever.

nanami is talking and then, the host interrupts. “are you and _____ dating?”

the audience chuckles and nanami is caught off guard. “wh-what?” nanami breathes out, a blush rising from his neck to his cheeks. “what?”

“are you and _____ dating?”

“no…” nanami clears his throat, gulping, “no of course not…”

“what do you mean “of course not?” do you not like _____?”

“what? of course i like-” nanami cuts himself off with a deep sigh and the crowd laughs at his embarrassment and fluster. “_____…_____ is a lovely woman, she’s a respected colleague, a valued friend, she’s-”

“well since you like her so much, let’s bring her out!” the host flings his arm out in the direction of the entrance stairway, “give a warm welcome to _____!”

“?”

the crowd is screaming as you walk in, waving at them with a warm smile on your face and sit next to nanami.

nanami looks at you, face red. “i-”

“don’t let him stop you.” you say, referring to the host’s interruption and the cheers erupting from the sea of people. “keep talking about me!”

nanami sighs. “shit…”

౨ৎ sixth clip

you’re being interviewed on the red carpet by a boisterous, joyful middle aged lady who asks you many questions, one of them being, “fuck, marry, kill”.

“okay fuck, marry, kill with getou suguru, nanami kento and gojo sa-”

“easy,” you cut in, not even hearing the rest of the question, “fuck getou, marry nanami and kill gojo. easiest question i’ve had so far!”

on the other end of the carpet, nanami is being asked the same questions except with actresses, one of them being you.

“fuck marry kill - utahime iori, _____ or shoko ieiri?!”

“marry _____, fuck utahime and kill shoko. goodnight.” he abruptly walks away, not even waiting for the interviewer to respond and leaves them flabbergasted.

a/n: feel like i rambled a lot in this one..oh well. also i’m not accepting requests for actor!nanami right now🤗🩷

#actor!nanami #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami x y/n #nanami fluff #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami kento x y/n #nanami kento fluff #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami x you #kento nanami x y/n #kento nanami fluff

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unabletonotlovesatoru · 23 days ago

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3 times bakugou tried to kiss you + 1 time he actually did !!

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ teddy’s notes: i can never not write something cute with katsukiii, actually no it’s most of my faves ngl. anyways no warnings here! reader is gender neutral and this is just pure fluff!!

the gym was hot and noisy, filled with the sound of fists hitting pads and shoes squeaking against the mats. bakugou wiped the sweat off his face, barely winded, but when he turned around, there was you, standing at the edge of the ring, smiling at him like he’d just won a damn medal.

“what the hell are you smiling at?” bakugou barked, storming over.

you blinked up at him, your hands clasped in front of you. “you’re really amazing, you know that? you’re so strong!”

bakugou’s heart stumbled over itself. His brain screamed, say something cool, idiot, do something cool! instead, he muttered, “tch. whatever,” and leaned closer, his face hovering inches from yours.

your smile faltered. you took a step back, eyes wide. “sorry, katsuki! did i do something wrong?”

the words hit bakugou like a slap. this was totally going in the wrong direction. “what? no! you—” he cut himself off, growling in frustration before spinning on his heel. “forget it!” he snapped over his shoulder, storming out of the gym.

behind him, you continued to stare after him, completely baffled.

the rain pattered against the umbrella as bakugou held it over both your heads. it wasn’t a big umbrella, which meant that you had to stick close to his side, your shoulder brushing against his every few steps.

“thanks for walking me home,” you said, your voice soft, almost drowned out by the rain.

bakugou swallowed hard. “whatever. not like i had anything better to do.” liar.

the warmth of your presence was messing with his head. his eyes flicked to your face, droplets of water clinging to your fluttering lashes. his heart kicked into overdrive.

he shifted the umbrella slightly, leaning closer under the guise of adjusting it. your lips were right there, soft and pink and—

“oh!” you crouched suddenly, eyes wide as you scooped something off the ground. “it’s a kitten!”

“eh?” bakugou froze mid-lean, almost dropping the umbrella.

you cradled the soaked little animal in your arms, smiling. “look how cute it is! poor thing.”

katsuki gritted his teeth. “yeah, cute,” he muttered, glaring at the oblivious cat like it had just personally insulted him.

the room was dark except for the faint glow of the tv screen. the others were all passed out on the floor or slumped against the furniture, leaving bakugou and you alone on the couch.

you were snuggled under a blanket, your eyes glued to the movie. you weren’t even paying attention to him, which was just as well, because bakugou could barely breathe with you sitting so close.

his fingers curled into the fabric of his sweatpants. come on, just do it. it’s not a big deal. just lean over and—

you shifted suddenly, yawning as you stretched your arms above your head. one of your hands smacked him right in the face.

“ah! oh my god, i’m so sorry!” you gasped, sitting up straight.

bakugou clutched his face, cheeks burning. “what the hell?! watch where you’re swinging those things, idiot!”

“i didn’t mean to! are you okay?” your fingers tried to pry off his hand, but he reflexively waved you off.

“i’m fine!” he snapped, scooting to the far end of the couch, crossing his arms, and glaring at the screen like it was the movie’s fault. he didn’t look at you for the rest of the night.

+ 1.

the city stretched out below them, bathed in the golden light of the setting sun. you sat on the edge of the rooftop, your legs dangling over the side. you looked sad, your usual brightness dimmed, which really concerned bakugou.

“i just… don’t know if i’m good enough,” you said softly, your hands twisting in your lap.

bakugou leaned against the railing a few feet away, his jaw tightening. “that’s stupid,” he said gruffly.

you glanced up at him, surprised. “what?”

bakugou rubbed his face, tugging his mask higher over his forehead before directing his gaze at you.

“you’re good enough,” he said, his voice low and rough, like he was choking on the words. “you’re better than good enough. you’re—” he cut himself off, scowling.

your lips quirked into a small, tentative smile. “thanks. that means a lot. you’re… nicer than you act, you know.”

katsuki’s chest felt too tight, his heart pounding so hard it hurt. “screw it,” he muttered under his breath. before he could lose his nerve, he crossed the space between you and him in two quick steps, cupped your face in his hands, and kissed you.

you gasped softly against his lips, but didn’t pull away. instead, your hands found their way to his arms, holding on gently as you kissed him back.

for the first time, bakugou felt like he wasn’t completely screwing everything up.

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polarisjisung · 1 month ago

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ꨄ X-O, KISS ME, DON'T SAY NO

KISSES WITH ENHYPEN

pairings: enha x fem! reader genre: fluff wc: 1k warnings: use of petnames, slightly suggestive notes: I wrote this for dream had to do it for enha too ! | LIBRARY

HEESEUNG — desperate, flirty kisses

A simple peck doesn't exist for Heeseung. You're like his drug, once he gets a taste, he's addicted. Quick morning kisses are impossible. One peck on your forehead easily turns into a full makeout session and suddenly you're late for work. And not for a second is Heeseung worried about your impending anger, instead he'll try and convince you to call in sick, no work meant more time for kisses, right?

“Heeseung, I have places to be” You know it's no use arguing but you seem to try anyway.

You'd been in this situation countless times before, and it ended the same way each time. In your defence, Heeseung was pretty good at convincing.

“Yeah, want me to list a few?”

Something about a kiss-driven Heeseung is so exceptionally flirty. You both know that you're never getting out of this your way. “My arms, the bed, against the wall if you're into that.

Okay maybe you didn't take much convincing either.

“All of the above?”

Heeseung can't dispute that.

JAY — forehead kisses

Jay's kisses are spontaneous, but so tender and loving, like a scene cut out straight from a high school romance.

You're perched up on the sofa with your nose stuck in one of those picture-perfect romance books you love so much.

Jay can barely make out your face from the material of the hood pulled over your head.

You look cute. There's a pair of blue light glasses resting on your nose and your eyebrows are furrowed with concentration. Jay couldn't help but leave a soft peck against your forehead. He takes a couple moments to just sit beside you and stare, truly wondering how he ever got so lucky.

Next thing you know, his hand moves carefully to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear, his thumb positioned just under your chin, guiding you into a slow, soft kiss.

JAKE — messy kisses

Jake kisses like a man starved.

Hands tugging at your hair, arms around your waist, loud, shallow pants filling the room. It's like he can't get enough.

He pulls back to stare at you, breathless. But only for a moment.

To Jake, catching his breath seems awfully difficult when you're staring up at him with swollen lips and a sultry gaze.

“I could kiss you forever.”

His words are more a promise than a statement, and how could you not believe him when he pulls you back in so impossibly close, letting his cold fingertips run across your skin.

Both his hands cup your cheeks, passionately. Lips moving over yours with an unsteady, fervent rhythm, and so much urgency, you swear you feel your heart beat out of your chest.

Each time you kiss is like the first, brash. But Jake always holds you so tight, like he's afraid you'll disappear the second he lets go.

When he does finally pull away, Jake exhales a soft laugh, giggling almost.

“You alright?”

You can only nod, burying your face in the crook of his neck.

SUNGHOON — distracted kisses

Playful fights or debates like whether orange juice is better than apple (it's not) or whether milk comes before or after the cereal always seem to arise with you and Sunghoon.

Part of it has to do with the fact that Sunghoon thinks you look so insanely fine when you're passionately arguing your point forwards.

But somewhere along the way Sunghoon stops listening to what you're saying, eyes zeroing in on your lips when he'd come to a sudden realisation. That shade of lipstick suited you, a little too well maybe.

“Hoon, are you even listening?”

He nods, he's not listening.

He wouldn't have this problem if the lipstick wasn't there. But you were still explaining in full detail, hand gestures and everything. And as much as he loved to hear you ramble, Sunghoon could not concentrate.

He was going insane— he needed to kiss you. Now.

You don't really know why you continue, seeing as Sunghoon's clearly not present, but you can't help but gasp when he pulls you in close and crashes his lips to yours.

“You're right, I wasn't listening”

JUNGWON — soft morning kisses

Soft and intimate, that's what kissing Jungwon feels like.

There’s quiet whispers of ‘I love you's’ and the sweetest compliments.

Even if you've just rolled out of bed, when your hair's a mess and your eyes can barely open all the way, Jungwon thinks you're beautiful.

“Good morning my love” he presses a kiss to the back of your head, just below your ear as he slips past you on the couch, making his way to the kitchen so he can check on breakfast.

But he can only stay away for so long, running back a few minutes later with your morning coffee and a couple kisses to keep you occupied while you wait for it to cool down.

“I love you.” he'd keep it short and sweet, holding your face in hands with so much care. By the time breakfast is ready, not a single inch of your pretty face remains unkissed and that's an achievement Jungwon is insanely proud of.

SUNOO — giggly kisses

You and Sunoo are like the epitome of PDA— cuddling, quick pecks on the cheeks, always holding hands— you have to have your hands on each other at all times. It's sickeningly sweet.

And matters only get worse when your behind closed doors, Sunoo would spend all his time with his lips glued to yours if he could.

He's obsessed with you, and your strawberry flavoured chapstick is anything but helpful. He needs kisses, no matter what it is you're doing.

“Sunoo, I'm busy.” You roll your eyes at him playfully, but he only shrugs, spinning you around on your desk chair.

“Too busy for kisses?”

When you nod, it's Sunoo's turn to roll his eyes.

“Wrong answer.”

And he crashes his lips to yours just as he had intended, illiciting a few giggles from you, laughing at his urgency.

NI-KI — kisses in the rain

Kisses never last too long with riki, quick pecks, passionate and loving but short. Long kisses, something you'd both be down to try but had never actually made the effort to. It's felt scary, awkward, maybe?

The two of you always had a more easygoing relationship, so your more affectionate gestures had always been kept to a minimum.

Until one night when your car broke down and you found yourself stranded in the middle of nowhere.

Rain pelted down from the sky and the wind whistled loudly, but even so, you'd be a fool not to step out of the car and watch the sunset in person.

You and Riki sat with your legs crossed, dangerously close to the cliff edge, bodies pressed against each other as an attempt to conserve heat.

There was something about that moment— maybe the soft glow of the sky as the sun dipped just below the horizon — or the way your eyes beamed and sparkled as each strand of your hair slowly grew wet. Something so raw.

Riki couldn't even bring himself to hesitate, pulling you into his lap in one swift motion and kissing you urgently.

One hand reached back to grip your hair, and another cradled your chin, guiding your lips further into his.

Safe to say, kissing in the rain might just be his favourite.

taglist: @chenlezip @nanawrlds @mystverse @jenobubbles @flaminghotyourmom @lotties-readings

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lokissweater · 7 months ago

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“i love you and i love you.” ᡣ𐭩

{yuta okkotsu x f!reader}

summary: yuta okkotsu has been hopelessly in love with you since he was fifteen. you, his muse and his reason to live as you took care of him growing up more than anyone else in his life. in fear of breaking your best friend pact and losing you entirely, yuta swallows his feelings for the sake of keeping you in his life, but he can only take so much.

warnings: college au, friends to best friends to lovers trope, lowkey ooc yuta oops, mentions of underage drinking, hopelessly devoted and lovesick yuta for reader, cursing!!! both reader and yuta cuss lol, lots and lots of fluff, ANGST, afab!reader, use of y/n, pet names, no smut in this one! slight sexual themes, reader is older than yuta by two years.

word count: 8.7k

authors note: YAAALLL i actually poured my heart and soul out into this one so i really hope it reaches your heart and soul as well! it is so so cute and i had so much fun writing it. this is definitely not the end of this au! i plan to write more short stories that take place after this one :) mwah.

————————————————————————

yuta was thirteen years old when he first saw you.

you were a casual friend of his older brother who had invited his entire group of friends over for a thanksgiving feast reunion amongst yourselves. yuta stayed locked in his room for the most part, from time to time lazily making his way down the halls and through the kitchen where you all sat to get a glass of water for himself, silently savoring at the food on the table.

eventually you had picked up on his lame attempts of coming into the kitchen for random excuses, concluding that he just wanted to gawk at the food and maybe score a bite or two of the pumpkin pie drenched in whipped cream, sitting pretty and proud in the middle of the table.

but after various unsuccessful attempts and various defeated stomps down the hall and back to his room after every shoo from his brother, he knew he wasn’t going to get even a lick. at the end of the night when the group settled down and many began to take their leave, yuta made his way back down one more time in search of any lucky scraps left behind.

but what he found instead was you, standing in the kitchen with a white porcelain plate in your hands, a slice of pumpkin pie drenched in whipped cream sitting pretty in the middle.

“for you,” you had said calmly, plate outstretched, beckoning him to take it. “i saw you come down a few times looking at it, and i think whoever brought it is taking the rest of it back home, so here.”

yuta had never spoken to a girl before, much less a fifteen year old one with the sweetest smile he had ever seen in his life on her face, but he timidly and awkwardly took the smooth plate from your offering hands, and muttered a squeaky thank you before stumbling down the hall and slamming his bedroom door shut.

from then on, yuta looked forward to the next time his brother would have his friends over, nagging at him constantly with questions of when, and even going as far as to straight up planning the hangouts himself (the location of all of them being at their house of course), but his brother would only shove him out of his room and lock the door shut.

luckily for yuta his wish was granted, and his curious eyes saw you around a lot more often than not, and you gradually became a close friend of yuta’s brother instead of just casual one. every time you came over to his house, you always greeted him with the biggest smile on your face before going into his brother’s room with the rest of the group. and over time, your greetings to yuta went from sweet smiles, to pats on the head, to ruffling up his hair occasionally, and to his personal favorite, the side hug.

you always were around in yuta’s growing life and always made sure he had gotten something to eat that day, or if he had a ride to soccer practice, or if his phone had enough battery to last him through his tutoring sessions, or even if he had someone going to watch his soccer games in the mornings (which was never).

yuta was fifteen when he realized he liked you.

“so no one is going?” you asked sharply, “again?”

yuta shrugged. “its at eight o’ clock in the morning. i don’t expect anyone to, not even you-“

“well i’m going,” you said simply, putting the rest of your textbooks away in your locker and slamming it shut. “geez not even your brother goes to your games? i’m gonna yell at him later.”

“it’s fine.” yuta shook his head and gave you a small smile, his insides twisting and contorting with an overwhelming boy crush for you. “a lot of my teammates parents don’t go either, usually only to the first two of the season.”

but not you. you went every single time, even going as far as dragging his brother with you so he could have family there to watch him play. yuta always made sure to turn and raise a hand to you from across the field, waving it side to side before getting back in the game, his heart thumping wildly in his chest with an insane sense of adrenaline to do good on the field and show off— because you were watching.

yuta was still fifteen when he realized you liked his brother.

firstly, he felt utterly stupid for not picking up on it before. yuta was always too busy staring at you and memorizing every inch and detail of your face to realize that you were looking at his brother the same way yuta looked at you. he was too busy running around in soccer fields and eating the ham sandwiches you always made for him after practices to realize how red your face would get when you sat next to his brother during his games, or when you gave him sandwiches. yuta was too busy drooling over you in his mind that sometimes you wouldn’t even notice him waving at you from across the field like he always did, your eyes trained on his brother instead, that sweet smile he was all too familiar with shining for someone else.

it wasn’t fair. it wasn’t fair at all. yuta felt like his brother always got everything and he always ended up with scraps. yuta never got a friend group like his, or a stellar reputation in a sport like he did, or people at his beck and call everywhere he went, or nominations for pointless shit like homecoming king.

but yuta didn’t give a flying fuck about any of that. he didn’t want any of that. he wanted you. just you.

but he couldn’t have you.

yuta was sixteen when he realized he was in love with you.

he had been for a while actually, and he knew it, but the thought alone of you liking his stupid brother only fueled the fire of denial to save himself from getting hurt more than he already was.

but it was absolutely pouring rain that day, his tutoring session having been cancelled last minute due to the weather, and because of this he had no ride home and no umbrella to even attempt at walking home, not that he could anyways seeing as it would take him thirty minutes to do so. yuta absolutely could not take that chance. he had his laptop in his backpack with all of his school work, and worst of all, his final project that he had been working on since the beginning of the school year, a precious green portfolio filled with notes worth more than gold to him.

yuta grumbled as he scuffed his feet against the concrete at the front of his school under a rooftop, lips pressed into a thin line in annoyance. his parents were at work, there was no way they could just drop everything and go to him (not that they would anyways), and his brother was too busy hanging out with you doing god knows what at god knows where— so even calling you was out of the picture.

at the mere thought of you hanging out with his brother, he sighed softly, sadly, and slumped down on a blue bench with his cold hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket, eyes trained to the ground.

heavy pit pats of rain smacked against the ground as he sat there in thought, the sounds of cars zooming down the wet streets as the only source of life around besides himself, seeing as it was already late in the day and everybody else had gone home. without him even noticing, the front doors beside him creaked open as he sat there grumbling.

“yuta?”

his head snapped up upon hearing your pretty voice call out to him, his eyes wide as he saw you standing there with an umbrella.

“what are you doing here?” he asked softly, standing up. yuta looked at you then and noticed your eyes were red and tired, and a shock of worry shot up his spine.

“i was-”

“are you okay?” he asked quickly. “your eyes are red.”

“oh really?” you mumbled, rubbing your eyes with your palm, waving him off. “it’s nothing, i didn’t even notice.”

he pursed his lips, concern written all over his face as he took in your defeated expression, but before he could press any further, you spoke again.

“why aren’t you in tutoring?”

“oh they cancelled last minute,” he stuffed his hands further into his jacket and looked to the side. “i don’t have a ride home now because of it, and i can’t even walk home because it’s raining hard as fuck and i have my laptop in my backpack.”

you hummed in understanding, and even though it looked like the worst possible thing ever just happened to you, you gave him that same sweet smile he craved every time he saw you. “let’s walk to your house together. i have an umbrella we can try and fit under.”

he looked at you incredulously. “no no! it’s okay! you live down the street i don’t want to make you walk thirty minutes in the rain with me and thirty back-”

“it’s okay!” you laughed. “i would never leave you here by yourself yu, you know that.”

oh how he loved when you called him that.

his shoulders slowly relaxed, a wobbly cute smile spreading across his face, his cheeks a fuzzy pink. “okay.”

you walked together in a comfortable silence, your little umbrella just barely covering the both of you and yuta’s cheeks were still an intense pinky shade due to the close proximity, his steamy breath basically fanning the side of your ear as he huddled close to you.

after a few minutes spent walking on the sidewalk, yuta spoke up again.

“why are your eyes red?”

you immediately froze, but relaxed quickly.

“just tired s’all,” you responded weakly, but the little wobbling of your bottom lip told him otherwise.

yuta slowly lifted his hand and reached out, placing it softly on top of yours and clenching over the stem of the umbrella. the action caused you both to stop walking, your curious eyes snapping to his.

his palm felt like it was on absolute fire at the feeling of your soft hand under his, yuta’s breath trembling as he breathed out.

he swallowed. “can you please tell me why.”

your eyes flooded with tears then, and you shut them tightly as you dropped your forehead solemnly to rest against his shoulder, your frame shaking with quiet sobs escaping your lips.

yuta’s eyes softened and he quickly took the umbrella from you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders in a tight hug. his heart thumped so hard against his chest that he could hear it ringing through his ears.

he patted the back of your head gently. “what happened? what’s going on?”

you shook your head against his chest.

“y/n..” he sighed worriedly, running a soothing hand over your shaking back now.

“i have a crush on your brother,” you sobbed.

he knew. god he knew. but hearing you say it out loud broke his heart ten times more than it did when he found out on his own.

yuta slightly pulled back, bending his knees a little to look at you at eye level, his hand on your shoulder.

“i know.”

your eyebrows furrowed, more silent tears spilling from your eyes. “you know?”

yuta nodded, smiling sadly at you as he wiped your tears with his thumb, your eyes closing as he did so. “i spend almost every second of my life with you, of course i know. i noticed.”

you sniffed.

“weren’t you just with him now?” he asked.

your eyes shut tightly again, eyebrows contorted in pain as you nodded. “i confessed to him. i wanted to tell him before we graduated next month.”

you lifted your hands and covered your face, sobbing into them. “i’ve loved him since middle school.”

loved?

yuta’s shoulders slumped as he stared straight ahead, feeling like he wanted to crawl into a deep dark hole and stay there.

“he-“ you hiccuped. “he rejected me.”

his head snapped down immediately, eyebrows furrowing in a mix of disbelief and anger. “huh? he rejected you?”

you nodded, dropping your hands from your eyes and burying your head in his chest.

“why? what did he say?”

“he said he didn’t feel the same way—” you stopped for a moment to even out your breaths. “and that he was sorry.”

yuta scoffed, shaking his head. “what a big fucking loser.”

you snorted at that, and he looked down at you fondly, relieved you laughed.

“he… he thanked me for everything that i’ve done for your family though, especially you.”

he stayed silent.

“he said he was thankful that i was like another sibling for you, and that i took care of you.”

another sibling?

yuta didn’t say anything, that phrase like a slash through his heart while he still thought about how much of a fucking idiot he was to reject you. you, out of anyone deserved to get everything you wanted. you were selfless, incredibly sweet, the most gorgeous human being to ever walk this earth, and you had done so much for everyone that you neglected your own needs all of the time.

how could he not love you back? how could his brother not see the angel in his life that loved him, that sentiment alone an absolute privilege to have? something he would kill for?

yuta knew he shouldn’t make this about himself. he knew you were absolutely hurting and heartbroken, but he just had to know. it was eating him alive inside and out and over and over again as he kept thinking about it.

“is that how you see me?”

“hu-huh?” you hiccuped, picking your head up from his chest to look at him.

“as another sibling. is that how you see me?”

you blinked up at him, your eyes trailing over his furrowed eyebrows and worried gaze, and you hesitated for a moment, not knowing exactly why.

but you nodded, slowly. “you’re my best friend, yu. you’re not just anyone to me i care a lot about you. more than most people in my life.”

for a moment, yuta looked at you blankly, his mind unable to properly register your words. he didn’t know whether he wanted to cry, call up his brother and yell at him, kiss you, or run away.

a part of him knew that too, that you only saw him as a sibling. but like everything else in his life, he buried it down and chose to pretend like it didn’t exist for the sake of his heart.

but regardless of you not returning his feelings, he would rather be something to you than nothing at all. he would rather make some type of difference in your life and have a special spot, than be an absolute nobody to you.

so he smiled. he smiled with soft sad eyes and nodded, pulling you back in and resting his cheek against the top of your head. “you’re my best friend too.”

yuta didn’t see you around much at his house after that, which he understood.

but you still texted yuta everyday and hung out with him sometimes at school, and you still went to his games and practices and made him ham sandwiches after, and you still gave him that sweet smile he loved so so much.

but he never missed how sad you got around his brother, even at the mere mention of him. he never missed how your eyes stayed glued to the ground or had a far off look to them, your arms wrapped around yourself with a safe distance between you both.

when you graduated high school, yuta was a brat the entire ceremony. he was pissed. so pissed that you were two years older than him and that he wasn’t going to see your pretty self around school anymore, which was pretty much the only reason he tolerated it in the first place.

but when your graduating class threw their caps up into the air and his family went down to congratulate his brother, yuta made a beeline for you instead.

and behind that scowl on his face that he had the entire day, his eyes were glossy.

yuta never cried.

when you noticed, your shoulders instantly dropped and you ran to his open arms, practically throwing yourself on him. “yuuu! don’t cry for me!”

“who said i’m crying?” yuta grumbled into your shoulder.

you pulled back and smiled at him, “i’m gonna miss you the most.”

yuta smiled, but then faltered, and a sliver of fear shot up his spine. was this the last time he was going to see you? was this the start of you both slowly distancing, and then ultimately falling apart? were you still going to call him and text him everyday?

as if you could sense his fear, you quickly shook your head. “you’re literally stuck with me for life. you will never find another best friend to replace me, you got it?”

you waved your little index finger at him sternly, and yuta laughed. “i got it.”

yuta was nineteen when he almost kissed you.

after you graduated high school, luckily you went to a college that was only about a thirty minute drive from his place. you were still in yuta’s life, if not way more than it was before, which he thanked his lucky stars for. you went from being a best friend of his brothers, to being only his best friend, as you and his brother didn’t really talk anymore after high school.

and to that, yuta was happy.

and when he graduated high school, you of course were there, crying and pinching his cheeks and hugging him so tight his back cracked a little bit.

he didn’t go to the same college you did (although he definitely tried but didn’t get in) and went to one that was about forty five minutes away from home, one he commuted to everyday like you did for yours.

you both got so much closer that you obliviously acted like a couple, when you weren’t. yuta would pick you up from class and drive you to lunch, pay for all of your meals and anything you practically wanted despite you fighting him every time on it. he would kiss your forehead and your cheek and throw his arm around your shoulder when you walked, he would call you baby and compliment you every single day, and he would sleep over at your house almost all of the time, your head on his chest and his arm wrapped around your torso.

he knew best friends weren’t really supposed to act like this, but did you? you both had grown so accustomed to it that it wasn’t a weird thing for you both, but the constant questions from your mutual friends or even each others parents was a dead giveaway that it in fact, was not how best friends were supposed to act.

but neither of you seemed to care.

“stop moving yu!” you whispered harshly as you applied an aloe vera mud mask to his face. yuta snickered, dodging your fingers every time they came close to applying the mask, with the only reason he was doing it being because it made you laugh.

you were both sat on your fluffy pink rug in the middle of your room in your pajamas, surrounded by all of your skincare essentials and even the fancy products you only pulled out on special occasions. it was one in the morning at this point and you both were still up, trying to keep your laughter to a minimum in attempts at not waking up your parents downstairs.

“baby this stuff smells kind of funky,” he commented as you applied some to his cheek.

“the funkier the better,” you responded, focused. “kind of smells like you.”

he pinched your side and you giggled, flinching away. “i’m kidding! i’m almost done, don’t move.”

yuta listened and stayed still, watching your concentrated pretty face that was practically inches away from his as you applied the mask to the rest of his face, his poor heart almost giving out.

once you were done, you smiled triumphantly and wiped your fingers with a warm damp towel. “all done!”

yuta smiled fondly at you and kissed your cheek. “thanks. is this what you put on every night?”

you shook your head, “not every night, only when i want my skin to look extra good for special occasions.”

“which is..?”

“it’s usually when you invite me over to your family events or when we eat dinner at that one really nice place by your school.”

yuta stopped at that and he felt his heart clench at your words. he didn’t know why and he usually didn’t let it, but his mind was making him believe that maybe…

no.

he relaxed again, humming in acknowledgement. you picked up a circular pink little tub compartment thing and unscrewed the cap, dipping your ring finger in the shimmery product.

“what’s that?” he asked softly, nodding his head to it.

“it’s my lip scrub!” you responded enthusiastically, lifting your ring finger and scooting closer to him. his eyes looked straight at you as you slid your finger over his lips. “it has kind of like a rough texture, it’s supposed to exfoliate your lips and make them really soft.”

his cheeks slowly turned pink, his eyes trailing down to your lips as you sat back, finished.

“here— put some on me now so you can feel what i’m talking about,” you handed him the little tub and he dipped his index finger in, swallowing the lump in his throat.

he timidly lifted his hand and pressed his finger to your waiting perfect lips, softly and gently running the product on your bottom lip before going to the top, his eyes mesmerized and nearly drooling.

yuta was practically tracing you, wanting to burn forever the shape of your mouth into his brain to remember for the rest of his life, wanting nothing more than to press his lips on yours.

but he inhaled sharply and quickly dropped his hand. “i’m finished.”

you pressed your lips together and spread the product around, “did you feel it?”

he shakily nodded, wiping his finger on the warm damp towel before handing it over for you to do the same.

you held up a corner of the towel to his lips and gently wiped the scrub away, “and now they’re soft.”

you passed the towel back over to him, and you sat back, eagerly waiting for him to do the same.

yuta swallowed again and mimicked you, except he was much slower, much more gentle over your plush lips as he subconsciously leaned closer to you that by the time he was done, his nose almost bumped with yours.

with eyes half lidded, he stared at your lips in a daze, licking his bottom lip slightly as you looked at him with wide eyes. he wanted to, so badly, to just grab your face and press your lips together, to pour the love he’s had for you for the past four years out and cherish you with everything that he has.

“yu?” you spoke softly, your voice barely above a whisper, your breath fanning against his lips.

his eyes immediately snapped to yours and he flinched back like a deer in headlights. “so— so when do i take this off?” he pointed to his face. “the mud mask.. when does it come off?”

you looked at him curiously, your eyebrows slightly pinched together as you tried to make sense of what was happening, if anything even really happened.

“almost..” you responded, unfocused. “in about five minutes.”

yuta quickly nodded and pressed his lips into a thin line, his hands clenched so hard into tight fists that his knuckles turned white.

he couldn’t look you in the eye. what the fuck was he doing? he was going to scare you away if he kept doing things like this, if he kept almost slipping up and doing something that could jeopardize your friendship with him.

your trust.

you nudged his shoulder with your finger, and he finally looked at you.

“is the face mask bothering you that much?” you said with a silly smile, and yuta physically deflated, affection pumping through his system.

“no baby,” he shook his head. “i like it! i think i should keep it on for the rest of the night and go to class with it tomorrow morning.”

you snorted and shook your head, “don’t be mean.”

he raised his hands up frantically, “i’m not! you think everybody has the privilege of getting a free facial by their pretty best friend?” he held up his index finger and wiggled it side to side. “i don’t think so.”

you giggled, so much, and grabbed the warm damp towel again, scooting closer to him by your knees. you began wiping away the mask on his face, being careful of not going too rough in fear of accidentally irritating and hurting him. yuta held you by the hips, assisting in keeping your balance and rubbing little circles into your stomach with his thumbs.

your cheeks went a little pink after a bit.

as the rest of the night went on, and when you both finally settled into bed facing each other— his hand on the side of your hip, you softly traced the rather dark bags under his eyes and frowned.

“you need to get more sleep, yu. i think you’ve had these bags since you were fifteen.”

“it’s because i always grind so i can buy you a big white house with a wiener dog and a picket fence.”

you laughed a little too loud and slapped a hand over your mouth, leaning forward and resting your forehead against his as your shoulders shook. when you settled down, you removed your hand and smiled sweetly.

“only if the house comes with you.”

yuta’s breath hitched, and his eyes searched yours desperately, for any indication that maybe, just maybe, you…

no.

“what… you want me as a roommate?”

you playfully rolled your eyes and gently shoved his shoulder.

yuta was twenty years old when he confessed to you.

it was also the first big fight you guys ever had in your entire years of knowing each other.

your relationship stayed the same, two peas in a little pod through college that never seemed to go to one place without the other, so much so that when you did, people would often ask where the other half was. he loved it. he loved you so much, and he found it harder and harder and more heart breaking for him as the years went by watching you not be his in any way shape or form.

every time he visited your campus or went with you to your college parties, he noticed the lurking eyes it seemed like every guy had on you everywhere you went, and it agitated yuta more than anything else. he was still a stubborn brat, and instead of doing something about it and maybe telling you how he feels, he just endures the pain and scowls at their glances, leading you through crowds by the hand or by the small of your back.

he never really indulged in the traditional college experience like you did, and never ever talked to any other girl besides you. he never wanted to or had any interest in doing so, regardless of you returning his feelings or not. you also never really talked to any other guy besides yuta or made any mention of your dating life, people mostly assuming you both were.

yuta weaved through the crowd, trying to spot a place for the both of you to sit while you went to get drinks from the kitchen. upon finally breaking free from the pile of dancing sweaty bodies, he recognized one of your girl friends and a couple of others sitting on a long lounge sofa, her eyes perking up.

“y/n’s boyfriend! you came?”

he stopped a bit, then smiled wide.

“yeah! she’s in the kitchen now by the way, she’ll be over here in a second.”

and when you did come over, already a bit tipsy from the line of shots you got pulled into while getting drinks, you walked over to where yuta sat while greeting your friends, handing him a red solo cup. and instead of sitting in the spot yuta had saved for you right beside him, you settled neatly on his lap.

his eyes nearly bulged out of their eye sockets as you swung an arm around his shoulders for support and made yourself comfortable. you had never done something like this, and he swallowed the huge lump in his throat as trembling hands settled around your waist and over your lap. his arm tingled with the feeling of your thighs underneath, afraid to put his hands anywhere near them in fear of making you uncomfortable or accidentally grabbing your face and making out with you.

but the chance of that happening wasn’t anywhere near impossible, as he was already tipsy by his drink and his hand was already gently caressing over the skin of your soft plush thighs.

best friends don’t do things like this.

and he did not give a single fuck.

your boobs were practically shoved up in his face, his pinky cheeks absolutely blazing as his eyes darted to every corner of the house and anywhere else that wasn’t your tits, his lips itching to feel, to taste.

the night progressed and the both of you got increasingly more and more drunk, clinging on to each other on the couch or stumbling through the house, laughing when one of you would trip and almost face plant on the hardwood floors, leaning on to each other for support.

“your boyfriend almost knocked over the tub of tropical mix in the kitchen!” your girl friend yelled over the loud booming music, laughing.

yuta expected you to correct her, but you didn’t, and only laughed along with her.

“no it wasn’t him! it was me,” you giggled drunkenly, your arms around his neck as his were tight around your waist, your group standing off to the side of the dance floor. “he had to grab me and pull me from it!”

and that’s how it often was, just you and him. you taking care of him and him taking care of you in every way possible, trying to pay you back for all of the years you spent being there for him when he was younger and way more, simply because he wanted to.

and on a night where yuta was studying for finals in his room, his brother that was visiting from college came in and sat down on the edge of his bed.

“you studying?” he asked.

yuta nodded, not bothering to take his eyes away from his notebook, still scribbling down his notes. he never really had the best relationship with his brother, much less after what had happened with you getting rejected by him.

his brother took a deep breath through his nose and nodded. “i um… are you still friends with y/n?”

that caught his attention, and yuta’s eyes lifted from his notes to look at him. “yes? i’m with her like, most of the time. if you haven’t noticed.”

“no i have,” his brother murmured. “how is she?”

yuta took a second to respond. “she’s good.”

“that’s good that’s good. does she um- does she still have the same number?”

yuta put down his pencil and leaned back against his desk chair. “why?”

“i wanted to just catch up with her is all,” he shrugged. “i saw her when you brought her here for mom’s birthday and i hadn’t seen her since graduation.”

“catch up with her?” yuta mumbled. “since when do you give a shit about y/n?”

his brother scoffed. “i always have, yuta.”

“didn’t seem like it when you rejected her and started dating one of her close friends like the next day.”

his brother didn’t say anything, and yuta rolled his eyes at the lack of response, picking his pencil back up to continue his work.

“i still have her on social media and see what she’s up to… she posts you a lot. are you guys like— a thing?”

yuta bit the inside of his cheek. “no.”

his brother visibly relaxed for whatever reason and nodded. “i just want to talk to her again, is all. maybe buy her dinner—”

yuta pushed his textbook away, dropped his pencil again and spun around, looking at him with narrowed eyes. “fuck no.”

his brother scoffed. “i’m not asking for permission—”

“fuck no.”

“yuta i’m your brother i literally took you to school everyday and took care of you—”

“y/n did that.” yuta cut him off. “y/n gave me rides to school when i didn’t have my license and bought me food when i didn’t have a job. she also came to every single one of my games regardless of the weather and helped me with my homework when i was too stupid to figure it out on my own, everything you should’ve done.”

“that’s not true—”

“yes it is.” yuta crossed his arms in annoyance. “she didn’t have to do any of that. she never had to take care of me the way that she did but she did it anyways. she took on your role because you were too busy being a dingus doing god knows what and she knew that. y/n has done more for me than you’ve ever done in your entire twenty two years of living.”

his brother sat there in silence, yuta’s heavy angry breathing being the only thing heard in the room.

“okay well—” his brother stood from his bed and walked over to the door. “i’m just going to text her—”

“why the fuck are you gonna meddle into her life now? what… are you bored? are you not satisfied with whatever fucking girl you find up there at school?” yuta threw his arms up in irritation, his blood beginning to boil. “you treated her like shit. like absolute dog shit when you ignored her and avoided her for months after she confessed to you. do you understand how disrespectful that is?”

“whatever man it was high school—”

“and what, that gives you a pass to treat her like that? when that happened i was sixteen picking up the pieces you shit all over at your grown age—”

“i’m leaving.”

and with that, his brother walked out and slammed the door shut, and yuta was left absolutely red. red with anger he had never felt before in his life as he grabbed his notebook and chucked it across the room. he hated how casual he spoke of you, like you were just another girl he was going to try and get to know and fuck— to then leave without another word like his brother’s been doing his whole fucking life to girls. but not to you, it couldn’t happen to you.

and it was like yuta was going through the five stages of grief because then he was afraid. what if you let his brother back into your life? what if you fell for him again? you’d done it before the chances were not zero of you doing it again.

yuta didn’t want to lose you. he would rather gauge his eyes out and eat them for breakfast.

with that, yuta stumbled through his room putting on his shoes and snatching his car keys from his night stand, running down the hall and slamming the front door shut before getting in his car.

the drive was only about fifteen minutes to your house, and he felt so bad that it was nearly two in the morning and he was most likely going to wake you up, but he couldn’t stand it. he was going absolutely crazy, everything in him gnawing and eating him alive, his brother having pushed every single button in his body and more.

his tires screeched as he pulled into your driveway, thankful that your parents were away on a getaway trip as he slammed his car door shut and made his way up to your front door. yuta rang your doorbell twice before you finally opened it.

slowly, you peeked your tired eye through the slit, and your body immediately relaxed at the sight of him. “oh my god yuta, you scared the absolute shit out of—”

you stopped, your face falling at his livid expression and the way his chest heaved erratically. “yu? are you okay? what’s going on—”

but yuta only pushed passed you and trudged up your stairs without another word. dumbstruck, you closed your front door with a click and locked it, following him up the stairs and into your room.

“what’s wrong?”

“my brother is visiting from college.” he mumbled, sitting stiff on your desk chair. you moved to stand in front of him.

“…you mentioned that yeah—”

“and he… he told me that he wants to reach out to you.”

your eyebrows furrowed, taken aback. “me? for what?”

“he says he wants to catch up with you, see how you’re doing. be friends again i guess.”

yuta’s eyes remained stuck to the floor like glue, and you remained silent as you processed his words, confused out of your mind.

“i mean… i mean i guess? i guess that’s fine—”

his head snapped up, “that’s fine?”

you shrugged, “yes? i don’t see the big deal i don’t—”

“baby—” he shook his head in disbelief. “he absolutely broke you and treated you like nothing in high school, and you’re fine letting him back into your life? great.”

you narrowed your eyes at him. “why are you being like that? he just wants to be friends again and that’s fine with me—”

yuta scoffed. “he doesn’t deserve it! he doesn’t deserve you—”

“yuta, whatever happened between your brother and i was years ago! i’m over it! this isn’t a big fucking deal!”

you hated fighting with him, god how much you hated it, and the way that he looked at you now was making you absolutely sick.

“so you’re just gonna be friends with him again?” he shrugged, looking at you with narrowed eyes.

“yeah?”

“you’re fucking stupid,” he spat, getting up from your desk chair and walking over to the door, reaching for your doorknob.

you instantly grabbed his shoulder and spun him around to face you. “what the fuck is wrong with you?!”

“what’s wrong with me?!” he raised his voice, jabbing a finger to his chest. “what’s wrong with you! do you not remember how bad you got when he did what he did?! do you really think i would stand here okay with you rekindling your little love for my brother?”

you scoffed, “my little love?!”

and before you knew it, angry tears were streaming down your face. you hated the way he was talking to you, and you didn’t know how your argument escalated so quickly and so drastically as you wiped your cheeks furiously.

and at the sight of you crying, yuta faltered slightly, his eyes softening.

“why do you think i still love him? i don’t! i haven’t since he rejected me!—”

“who says you won’t start again?” he spoke lowly, arms crossed over his chest. “my brother never had to lift a fucking finger for you to be head over heels for him. you don’t give a shit about yourself and you’re willing to throw yourself at him again—”

“shut up.” you spat, sobs raking through your body. “the fact that you’re stuffing a bunch of fucking words into my mouth and assuming i’m going to jump into your brothers arms is bullshit.”

“i—”

“is this how low you think of me?”

“no baby i don’t—”

“yes you clearly do because everything that’s come out of your mouth—”

“no! no i’m sorry i don’t—”

“then why—”

yuta shoved his hands into his hair exasperated, “because i love you!”

he let his arms fall limp, his eyes glossy and red with the most gut wrenching look on his face that read pure exhaustion. you had never seen him so torn.

“i love you and i love you and i have since since i was fifteen,” his voice shook with each word, hands trembling at his sides. “more than a best friend, more than anything in this world, and i never saw you like another sibling like you did for me.”

“fi.. fifteen?” you spoke so softly he almost didn’t hear you.

he nodded sadly, silent tears slipping down his cheeks and you automatically reached up, softly wiping them away with your thumbs as he closed his eyes, much like how yuta did when you got your heart broken by his brother on that rainy day.

yuta never cried.

“i swallowed it. you loved my brother and i swallowed it. i didn’t give a shit if you only saw me as a sibling because i would rather make some type of mark in your life and be in it than not have you at all. but i can’t take it anymore.”

he let out a sob, and he instantly shoved his face in the crook of his arm in embarrassment.

“yu…”

“you mean absolutely everything to me baby,” his voice was muffled a bit by his elbow, and after roughly wiping his eyes on the sleeve of his sweater, he dropped his arm to look at you again. “i would do absolutely a-anything for you. you’re precious to me and the prettiest girl i have ever laid my eyes on and will ever lay my eyes on.”

he hiccuped and crossed his arms over his chest, staring up at your ceiling. “but i know you don’t love me like i love you. i’ve known for years and i just can’t bring myself to let you go. it’s so bad that i would rather you break my heart over and over again than let you go for the sake of my wellbeing and watch you walk out of my life—”

“yuta, can you please look at me?”

“i— i can’t,” he shook his head as his voice trembled, tears slipping from the sides of his eyes as he continued to stare at your ceiling. “i can’t do it—”

you slowly reached out and cupped his wet cheeks in the palm of your hands, tilting his face down gently to look at you, your eyes filled with remorse at the defeated look on his face.

“why didn’t you tell me?” you asked softly. “why didn’t you tell you were hurting so much?”

he shook his head slowly in your hands. “it’s not fair to you. i didn’t want to put you in a difficult position—”

“what difficult position, yu?” you spoke so gently, so sweetly to him that he almost fell to his knees. “how could you have kept this in for five years? i can’t even imagine—” you hiccuped, “i hate that you were hurting because of me-“

your voice began to contort again into sobs, and he quickly shook his head. “no baby no, it was not because of you, you did nothing wrong. you did the exact opposite.”

you wiped more of his tears with your fingers as he spoke, listening intently.

“no one gave a shit about me the way you did. not even my own parents, and not even my stupid brother that pretended like i practically didn’t exist. you were the only one that was there and you didn’t have to be. you could’ve easily ditched me at any given point and you never did, and i can’t thank you enough for giving me a reason to keep going.”

he wiped his eyes. “and that’s why i fell in love with you so hard because you were so selfless and sweet and i love your smile. i don’t think i could ever make up for everything you’ve done—”

“but you have!—” you interjected, but yuta only shook his head.

“no i haven’t. i’m a stubborn asshole who just said a bunch of shit five minutes ago that i didn’t mean and i only hurt you and i never wanted that—”

“yuta.” you spoke firmly. “you’ve literally done more for me than anyone else in my entire life and i hate that you can’t see that or give yourself credit. you were there for me when i went absolutely insane after your brother rejected me even though you loved me then. you put your own feelings aside to take care of me baby..”

you softly took his hands and led him to sit with you on the bed, wiping his wet cheeks with your sleeve.

“do you not remember when even though you didn’t have a job, any chance you got money you would spend it on me instead of yourself?” you laughed softly. “the minute you got your license you drove me anywhere i wanted… and even to little things like the store because you said you didn’t want me to spend gas money.”

yuta slightly smiled.

“you never ditched me either, when there was every opportunity you could’ve. you always make sure i eat and get enough sleep… and you make me so happy yu, i wish you could see how much i miss you when you’re not around.”

he tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and leaned in, softly planting a kiss to your cheek. you smiled warmly.

“who told you i didn’t love you back?”

yuta froze. “you did?”

“when?”

“the day my brother rejected you?” he cocked his head to the side. “i had asked you if you saw me as another sibling and you said yes.”

you threw your head back and moaned, “oh my god yu, of course in that moment because i was stupid and into your brother and i had just gotten rejected!”

you deflated and smiled at him warmly then, your eyes shining with emotions he didn’t allow himself to believe were there. for five years, yuta forced himself to believe you could never return his feelings as a form of protection, and now there was a huge wall in his brain that was itching to come down.

you scooted closer to him and wrapped your arms around his neck, your foreheads touching. “ask me again.”

“hm?” he was dazed, wide eyes staring into yours.

“ask me that question again,” you spoke softly. “the one from that day.”

yuta swallowed thickly, his breathing shaky through his nose, reiterating the phrase he played through his head like a broken record since it happened.

“as another sibling…” he murmured. “is that how you see me?”

you shook your head gently against his forehead, “no… to me—” you leaned back slightly and tilted your head to the side. “you look like the man i’ve been in love with for the past three years.”

silence. nothing.

and then, his eyes welled with tears as he tackled you down and just cried. he cried and he cried into your neck and shook like a little leaf, you holding him so unbelievably tight as your bottom lip wobbled. yuta’s arms were snaked around you as he held you with just as much force if not more.

half a decade. half a decade yuta spent hopelessly lovesick for you that your words burned over his entire body like a fever, his mind reeling and hazy. he held on to you so fucking tight and refused to let go of you, in fear that this was all just some horrendous sick dream and he was going to wake up alone in his bed without you.

you placed a hand on the back of his head as you hugged him, “i love you so much yuta that sometimes i feel like im going nuts.” you laughed softly. “it was always you… it’s been you that’s why i said earlier that i didn’t care if your brother wanted to be friends again, because i love you and i don’t give a shit about him and i’m sorry i made you upset—”

“no,” he lifted his head from the crook of your neck and looked at you, his cheeks flushed with dried up tears and red eyes. “that was just me being an absolute dick and scared of re-living high school all over again. i took that out on you and that wasn’t fair at all, baby. i’m sorry.”

you carded your fingers through his hair. “we both have things to be sorry about, and a lot of years to make up for.”

and finally, yuta grinned so big that his cheeks hurt.

“can i—“ he exhaled shakily. “can i kiss you?”

“please.”

and he smashed his lips against yours, greedily kissing you with so much desperation as he lip locked with you, his hands squeezing and roaming your body. the sound of your lips smacking was loud, and his kisses were so needy and sloppy against your soft plush lips that you squeaked at the intensity. you felt him grin again at your noise and he pulled away from you.

“i’ve wanted this for so long…” he breathed out, his breath fanning against your face as you tried to recover from what was probably the best kiss of your life. you nodded frantically, too dazed and caught up in the thought of his mouth on yours to respond with sentences that made sense.

he chuckled cutely at this, and he pressed a kiss to your forehead. “i love you and i love you.”

and since then, it was like the final wall had finally crumbled down, and yuta began to live like he was supposed to, like he was meant to, with you. his days of yearning and silent torment were over, and most of the time it still felt like a dream whenever he was by your side.

things stayed relatively the same between you two, as you now acknowledge how much of a couple you both actually were acting prior to yuta’s confession. the only major difference now though, was that yuta earned the privilege to call you his and give you sweet kisses as he picked you up from class, or when you make and hand him those ham sandwiches you always do just for him, only this time adorned with a honeyed kiss of your own.

sitting on his living room couch now, your head resting on his lap as a random horror movie played in the background, yuta’s fingers gently brushed over the features of your face as you stared at the tv, his eyes stuck to you like sticky lovesick glue.

you turned your head to look at him after a bit. “why don’t you start playing soccer again?” you hummed. “is there a team at your school?”

yuta nodded, “there is baby.”

“why don’t you try out?” you smiled sweetly at him, and his heart ached. “i always loved watching you play. i miss it.”

“okay,” he tapped your nose. “just for you.”

you rolled your eyes playfully. “and i’ll start dragging your brother with me again.”

yuta’s eyes flung open as his jaw dropped, and you snorted, giggling uncontrollably as he tickled and pinched at your sides. “i’m just kidding! i’m kidding! i’d rather die.”

he let out a boyish laugh, his eyes sparkling as he looked down at you. “as much as i hate him, i can’t thank him enough for being a stupid dingus.”

you quirked an eyebrow, “thank him? why?”

yuta gently and softly pinched one of your cheeks as he smiled at you, and it was then that you noticed the bags under his eyes were nearly gone. he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips, moving some of your hair away from your face after he did so.

“because he brought you to me.”

and you smiled, that same radiant sweet smile that made him fall in love with you in the first place, as you reached up and ran a tender finger under where his eye bags once stood, your voice light and airy as you spoke—

“i love you and i love you, yuta.”

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artemisiasmuse · 11 days ago

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rafe being all stressed at work and all he wants is come pick his sweet girl from her girl brunch and go home and cuddle? (Love ur work and than u baby)

this is so cute :< i can see it so clearly

first req yippee thank u my love <3

cw: it’s sickly sweet fluff, maybe a tad suggestive, reader described as shorter than rafe, use of “princess” “angel” “wife”, some manhandling

rafe had a headache, what from? it was unclear, maybe dealing with stakeholders and being in meetings all day or just simply having to come in on a day which would be a day off for anyone else. the joys of being a ceo. he couldn’t even think straight at a certain point, telling his father’s assistant, now his, to push all his meetings to monday. the overseas partners be damned, he needed to see his girl. you were the only one who could make him feel better, the only one allowed to see how much it was getting to him

he called you on his way out, you felt the phone ring in your purse, resting next to your lap on the booth you and your friends were piled into. brunch was starting to become a tradition after rafe kept going into the office on saturday mornings, you hated how empty the house felt so instead you hung out with your friends. you didn’t expect him to be free till 12 pm but now he was calling. your friends groaned as you hopped out of the booth, skipping slightly to answer the phone. “so whipped.” kie resounded behind your back and you wouldn’t even refute it.

your voice was sickeningly sweet when you answered, knowing your rafe was probably stressed or tired and was taking his few minutes between meetings to call you. “hi baby.”

“hey princess, you still out?” his voice sounded strained, you frowned at the tone, you could tell he was tired.

“uh huh, everything okay rafey?” he sighs at your words, you’re so endlessly adoring and doting, he should just wife you up. a big diamond ring would look so nice on your fingers, you’d be mrs. rafe cameron, god he wished you were next to him.

“‘missed you, can i pick you up angel?” you perked up at his words, already moving back to your table so you could pick up your bag.

“you’re off work?” there was a slight waver in your voice, you didn’t want him to go back after what you assumed was a short hour break.

“i’m taking it off, just wanna lie in bed with you.” that was all you needed to hear, telling him you’ll text him your location and hanging up with a sweet, “see you soon rafe.”

your friends groaned as you informed them you’d be leaving early, telling them you’d venmo them the split. the next ten minutes felt like hours as you anxiously awaited your boyfriend’s arrival. when he was finally outside you practically ran out of the restaurant, your friends giggling at you.

rafe was waiting outside his car door, watching you walk over, you looked so pretty in the morning all warm and cuddled up in bed. now you were in a sundress and sandals looking like a dream, you giggled when he looked you up and down with zero subtlety, skipping into his arms. he caught your weight, huffing a laugh at the impact. “pretty.” he murmured into your ear and you pressed a kiss to his collarbone, not quite reaching his face even in your heels. it was strange how his headache had vanished as soon as you were in his arms, was it your scent, your touch, your pretty voice? he didn’t know and he didn’t care, all he needed to know was that you fixed everything. he really needed to hack into your pinterest somehow and look at the wedding board he just knew you had.

you made it home pretty quickly, rafe ditched his dress shirt and pants, you kicked off your sandals, took of your bra, and practically jumped into bed. his arms wrapped around you, hating how distant you were on the other side of the bed, and pulled you against him. you turned in his hold, looking at your beautiful boyfriend, pressing your hand to his face, there was still a furrow to his brow. “you okay rafey?”

“i am now.” he kissed the palm of your hand tugging you closer if it was even possible. you were squished against him and even still it wasn’t enough, unsatisfied, rafe turned onto his back pulling your body to lay flat on his. you gasped at the action, bringing your hands to rest on either side of his head against the mattress. “that’s better.” the weight of you on top of him was comforting, now he could feel all of you without worry that you’d move out of his grasp. rafe didn’t know why he felt so erratic but he felt in control, he had you and you weren’t going anywhere. you watched him relax, propping your chin onto his chest just so you could look up at him. his eyelashes fluttered closed as you stroked his cheek, the soothing motion of your fingers lulling him to sleep, it wasn’t long after that you fell asleep with your head against his bare chest, listening to his heartbeat. when you woke up you felt hot and sweaty, sighing at the clammy feeling of rafe’s arms circling your back. he was holding you against him as if you would go anywhere. you tried wiggling out of his hold but were unsuccessful, waking him in the process

“baby stop moving,” his gravelly voice halted your ministrations and you huffed against his chest, both annoyed and impressed by how firm his pecs were.

“rafe we can’t sleep all day, we’ll be up all night.” you murmured, he hummed at your words, a deep rumble that shook you against him.

“that was my plan anyways.” you groaned at his teasing words, belatedly realizing you shouldn’t have said that in the first place.

“at least let me-” you squirmed in his hold again, this time he let you move and you lay by his side instead, his arms still loosely around you. “hey big boy, i’m not going anywhere, ease up.” you teased, poking his biceps as he kept them around you. the nickname was enough for him to be momentarily stunned, easing his grip and you giggled at his reaction. sea blue eyes widened at your words and you pressed a sweet kiss to his lips. a groaned slipped past his lips, opting to instead stuff his head between your breasts so he could at least be close to you this way. you giggled at his actions, watching how he scooted down the length of the bed so his head could rest against you. you scraped your nails against his scalp, hands naturally finding their way back to him. rafe sighed into you, so grateful he could lie on his favorite pillows, hear your quickening heartbeat, smell your perfume and distinct scent. he’d bottle it up if he could. you let him rest there a while longer, massaging the taunt muscles of his back and shoulders.

rafe would much rather spend every day like this with you, cuddled up and limbs tangled so thoroughly he doesn’t know where he ends and you begin.

since im a demon and evil i was having alternative thoughts like what if rafe came home and just wanted to smoke a blunt and do other things or what if he just needs to take his stress out in other ways okay goodbye this way too long already i just loved the prompt sm!

#rafe cameron #artemisiasmuse #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe fanfiction #rafe outer banks #rafe x reader #rafe x you #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron headcanons

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hanniebaeee · 1 month ago

Text

Tease me

Hyunlix x fem!reader

Warnings: SMUT MDNI

Genre: established relationship, fluff, smut

Summary: Hyunjin is on a work trip, leaving you and Felix alone at home. And when he video calls, Felix is an absolute menace, and it leads to some fun over the call.

Hyunjin had been gone for two days. Two. Long. Days. And you and Felix were starting to feel it - life was just not the same without his constant dramatics and flopping around.

And now Felix was stretched out on the couch with you, scrolling through his phone while you absently ran your fingers through his soft dark hair.

“I miss him,” you sighed, letting your other hand flop to the side dramatically.

“Same,” Felix mumbled, but he quickly looked up at you, grinning. “But his whines are still echoing in my ears.”

“You love his whining. Admit it.” You laughed, poking him in the cheek.

“I do, but I love making him whine even more.” Felix said, and just then, your phone buzzed on the coffee table.

Oh finally, there it was - Hyunjin’s name flashing on the screen.

“Hehe I was waiting for this,” Felix murmured, sitting up and pulling you closer to him.

“Behave,” you warned, picking up the phone, knowing the kind of drama that was about to unfold.

But Felix was already wrapping an arm around your shoulders, nuzzling his face into your neck like the needy little devil he was. The video call connected, and Hyunjin’s beautiful face filled the screen.

“Baby!” he whined, his voice immediately breaking into that soft, needy tone that made your heart clench. “I miss you both so much - what are you doing?”

“Hi, Jinnie,” you said warmly, smiling as he ran his hand over his short hair. “We miss you too.”

“Do you?” His eyes narrowed suddenly as he noticed Felix’s smug face next to yours. Felix, who was now draped over you like a human blanket, had the audacity to smirk at the camera.

“Hi, Hyunie,” Felix purred, his voice deep and playful. “We miss you sooo much. But, I’m taking good care of our baby while you’re gone.”

“Felix, I don't remember asking you to do that! Get off of her!” Hyunjin bit out, his cheeks turning pink.

“Oh, I don’t think she minds, do you, love?” Felix grinned wider, pressing a kiss to your temple just to rile him up more.

You snorted, biting your lip to keep from laughing.

“You’re impossible,” you whispered to Felix, who winked at you.

“Yah! Don’t encourage him!” Hyunjin barked, his pout turning into a full-blown glare. “Felix, I swear to god, I’m coming home tomorrow, and I’m not leaving either of you alone for a second. You hear me?”

Felix leaned closer to the camera, filling the screen with his playful expression.

“Aww, you sound jealous, Hyunjinnie. Don’t worry, I’ll save some cuddles for you. Maybe.”

“You’re so annoying!” Hyunjin groaned, running a hand through his hair in frustration. Then, his tone softened as he looked at you, his eyes literally begging. “Babyyy, tell him to stop hogging you.”

“I don’t know,” you teased, leaning back against Felix just a little more. “He’s being pretty sweet to me right now.”

Hyunjin let out a dramatic sigh, slumping against the headboard.

“This is torture. Absolute torture. I’m calling the airline to book an earlier flight.” he whined and Felix burst into laughter and he kissed your cheek obnoxiously loud for Hyunjin to hear.

“Fine. Enjoy your little Felix cuddle-fest while you can. Because when I get back, it’s my turn, and I’m not sharing.” Hyunjin glared at the two of you through the screen, but his lips twitched like he was fighting a smile.

“Oh, we’ll see about that,” Felix quipped, smirking devilishly before his head dipped, and his lips landed on your neck.

“Felix, I’m going to murder you when I get home,” Hyunjin growled. “Baby, don’t let him do that to you. Tell him you’re mine!”

“Oh please,” Felix scoffed, pressing a slow, teasing kiss on the crook of your neck. “But right now, she’s all mine.”

“Don't do this to me!” Hyunjin said, his pitiful look going straight to your core.

“Jinnie, you’re so cute when you’re jealous.” you laughed, leaning into Felix’s chest as you tried to catch your breath.

“I’m not cute!” Hyunjin shot back, his cheeks bright red. “I’m serious! When I get home, I’m keeping you both in bed for a week. No, two weeks!”

Felix chuckled, his hands slipping down to your thighs as he pressed his face into your neck, leaving open mouthed kisses just to push Hyunjin a little more. “Sounds like someone’s desperate, huh, baby girl? Should we keep teasing him?”

“Felix, stop it!” Hyunjin groaned, burying his face in his hands. “I can't take it anymore!!”

“Good,” Felix said smugly, nipping at your earlobe. “Maybe next time, you’ll think twice about leaving us alone for so long.”

Hyunjin peeked through his fingers, his dark eyes burning with frustration and longing.

“You’re both evil. When I get home, you’re not going to know what hit you.” he said, and you smiled at him, your heart aching and racing all at once.

“So, how was your day?” You asked, hoping to change the topic of discussion, while Felix was all over you like a lazy cat.

“Was fine. The meeting went really well - Felix, I’m serious!” Hyunjin’s voice cracked as he pointed at the camera, his tone caught between desperation and a growl. “If you don’t stop, I swear -”

“Oh?” Felix cut him off, smirking, his finger slipping down your chest.

His voice dropped into a sultry, teasing purr as his lips grazed your skin and said, “Like this?”

“Felix!” Hyunjin barked, slapping the table next to him. “I'm catching the next flight home!”

“Good.” Felix smiled, his freckles crinkling as he kissed your shoulder, his lips deliberately lingering. “Come home and stop me, Hyunie. I dare you.”

Your cheeks were hot, your head resting on Felix’s chest as you tried to contain your laughter. Hyunjin, however, had completely lost it. He leaned in closer to the camera, his pupils blown wide with possessiveness and lust.

“Baby,” he said, his tone pleading as he locked eyes with you. “Why are you letting him do this?”

Felix tsked, shaking his head. “Because she likes it, obviously.”

“Lix! I’m going to -” Hyunjin’s voice caught as Felix’s hand slid up your thigh, and disappeared under the little nightdress you were wearing.

“Oh, keep going,” Felix drawled, his eyes flicking to the screen. “What are you going to do, Hyun? Talk me to death?”

Hyunjin’s breath hitched, his eyes fixed on Felix’s hand, which was definitely slipping into your panties now.

“I'm gonna kill you.” Hyunjin growled, feeling his own desire going straight down there.

Your gasped, heat rushing to your face as Felix only laughed, dark and deep. He was absolutely thriving on Hyunjin’s unhinged energy. And you gasped as his fingers slipped into your folds, dripping with arousal (no surprise there).

“Promises, promises,” Felix murmured, leaning down to kiss your jawline. “But for now, baby girl’s mine to play with. Isn’t that right, love?”

You let out a nervous laugh, caught between the intense tension between the boys.

“Hyunjin…” you started, but he cut you off, his voice low and commanding.

“Watch and learn.” Felix’s voice couldn't be any more smug, as his fingers rubbed small circles on your clit. “She's so wet, Hyunie.”

Hyunjin felt himself go harder by the second. He couldn't deny that this was one of the most delicious things he's ever witnessed - the two people he loved the most putting on a show for him.

“Are you just gonna keep touching her?” He whispered, and Felix's brows shot up before his eyes met you as if asking for permission. “You know what she likes-”

And you glanced between him and Hyunjin, who was now palming himself through his pants. You swallowed and gave Felix a little nod.

That's all it took for him to quickly pull your panties down and toss it aside. And with a grin thrown at Hyunjin, Felix was off the sofa, and on his knees on the floor in front of you.

He angled the camera perfectly for Hyunjin to be able to see what was happening. Seeing the look on Hyunjin’s face, Felix wasted no time. No build up.

He went straight to lick a long strip from your slit to your clit, and it had you shaking and shivering.

“Felix…” you whispered, your heart racing.

Hyunjin let out a low, guttural groan, his hand slipped into his pants and gripped at his length. He stroked himself as he watched Felix’s tongue glide through your folds lazily.

You could barely breathe as Felix closed his lips around your clit and sucked almost harshly. Your fingers slipped through his soft hair, pulling slightly as he continued to lick through your soft lips noisily. Your body quivered with the wave of pleasure coursing through you.

Hyunjin’s breathe came out raggedly as he watched Felix's tongue slipping into you, and the soft whimpers spilling out of your lips driving him insane.

“Felix,” you hissed, biting your lip to stifle a moan. “Baby I'm so close.”

“Good,” Felix whispered, his lips returning to your clit as he slipped two fingers into you. “You good Hyunie?”

“So close-” Hyunjin whispered, his eyes darkening.

“Let go for me, love,” Felix prompted, feeling your body tense. “Let go, Hyunnie.”

Hyunjin was unraveling before your eyes. Through the screen, you saw his pouty lips were parted, his breathing heavier now, his hand moving faster.

“Oh fuck,” He moaned, and your own orgasm came crashing down as Hyunjin came hard, spilling all over his stomach and hand. “Oh my God.”

You whined as Felix continued to lap up all your release, before sitting back and smiling at you like he's won the lottery.

“Oh my God, Lixie-” You mumbled, your head falling back. “I swear you two-”

Felix started to laugh and you couldn't help but join him. You both giggled so hard, Hyunjin had to join in. And it was absolutely a mess.

“Hyunjinnie,” you murmured softly, trying to breathe as your giggles subsided. “I miss you baby, come home already!”

“Taking the first flight back. I'm done here.” He said, grabbing some tissues to wipe his hands.

Felix chuckled, joining you on the couch again.

“You better sleep with one eye open, Lix. Gonna make you regret every single second of this. And baby girl?” Hyunjin said, before turning his gaze to you, his tone softening but no less intense. “I’m going to remind you what you really like.”

You giggled again and Felix grinned, clearly thrilled by Hyunjin’s reaction.

“Good,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your jaw. “I’ll be waiting for you, Hyun. But until then…”

He didn’t finish the sentence, letting his actions speak louder than his words as his lips captured yours in a kiss so deep and searing. You could taste yourself on his lips, and it just made everything more hot.

“You’re the worst, Felix,” Hyunjin groaned, though he was smiling. “I hate how much I love you right now.”

Felix laughed, winking at Hyunjin.

“Mission accomplished.”

“Felix, baby,” Hyunjin said, lifting his head to glare at the two of you through the screen. “You’re both dead when I get home.”

And from the heat in his voice, you knew he wasn’t lying. And you couldn't wait.

Divider: @saradika-graphics

Tags: @moonchild9350 @velvetmoonlght @eastjonowhere @pixie-felix @sailor--sun

#stray kids #skz #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x y/n #hyunjin x you #hyunjin smut #hyunjin fluff #lee felix x reader #lee felix x y/n #lee felix x you #lee felix smut #lee felix fluff #hyunlix fluff #hyunlix smut #hyunlix x reader #skz x reader #skz smut #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut

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