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philosians · 2 months ago

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ɪɴᴅᴜʟɢᴇɴᴄᴇ

a three week paid-vacation provided by your captain gave rise to the opportunity to finally show you the gift sylus had gotten you. and no, it isn’t the yacht you’re on—but he wouldn’t be opposed to giving you that either.

[ !! ] — mdni | established relationship, smut, breeding kink, pregnancy mention, fingering, oral (female receiving), praise kink, mating press, unprotected sex, sylus is soft in the bedroom okay now hush ;; alcohol mention (sylus drinks whiskey), fluff. oh did I mention soft! sylus?? uhhh maybe more tags than this idk there’s a lot going on lmao. unedited af I know that’s a warning. if y’all see cut sentences just know it’s a brain glitch >.< lol

a/n: Happy Valentine’s Day! phew i got this out before it ended hehe just in the nick of time. I do wanna forewarn everyone I don’t actively write smut so I deeply apologize for any sort of repetitiveness or just it being inaccurate and rushed overall, my apologies. but please enjoy reading! bc i wanna curl up and die and delete this after writing it actually lmao I’ll probably never write anything like this again haha

word count: roughly 4.8k

The starry expanse of sky moves quickly outside of the window of the car, nothing but a blur of cosmic colors. Where you’re going you’re not quite sure, with all the secrecy from Sylus and the twins. It’s something Sylus has clearly planned for awhile, from the way he wanted you to dress tonight, but you’re still unable to put your finger on it.

At the very least, you’re glad that Kieran is the one that’s driving instead of Luke.

“Are you two going to tell me where we’re going yet?”

“Afraid not, Miss,” Kieran replies. “That’d be against orders from Boss.”

“Are we at least almost there yet?” you ask.

“We have about ten more minutes,” Luke chirps. “Then you’ll finally get to see Boss, don’t worry.”

You’re stunned into a mild fluster and look at your hands in your lap. You heard the twins snicker and you can’t help but shake your head incredulously. Oh well. You’re almost to your destination anyway.

After the last two months of an increase in Wanderer appearances, you could most certainly use a break. It’s been nothing short of hectic, battles here and evacuations there and the occasional dumbass that doesn’t want to listen to the warnings given out that an area is too dangerous to go into.

You softly sigh. You really shouldn’t be thinking about work.

You tug the large coat on your shoulders over you further, closing your eyes and sinking into the warmth and the smell of the man it belonged to.

Whatever in the world Sylus had planned must be big, even so that he couldn’t be bothered to tell even the twins exactly what he had in store. All the three of you knew was that he had a surprise, and the two brothers were more than happy to have the opportunity to have the base to themselves.

You just wish you knew where you were going.

“Is this it?”

“I think so. Ah, there’s Boss.”

Oh, already?

True to word, you open your eyes and see a familiar patch of silver against the darkness of the world. And you also happen to see a very, very large yacht not far from him.

A marina? You blink incredulously. A private fucking marina. Good lord, how much money does this man really have?

Upon stopping, you watch as Sylus turns his head slightly to the car. Luke quickly jumps from the passenger side and opens the door for you, ushering his hand outward dramatically and says, “After you, Miss.”

The heel of your shoe clicks against pavement as you step out, holding Luke’s hand for stability until you find your balance.

“Thanks, Luke.”

“Not a problem! Enjoy the honey— Uh, vacation!”

Luke jumps back into the car, more than likely to save himself from your questioning eyes. You can’t help but shake your head and make your way toward Sylus and the man in uniform, more than likely the captain of the yacht.

“Ah, Mrs. Sylus,” greets the captain with a tilt of his hat. His eyes blink as he does a once-over on you and then laughs. “I was wondering what kind of woman would tie such a man down, and now I understand. Please, come aboard.”

Your brows raise at Sylus as the captain pivots and boards the yacht. “Care to explain that?”

Sylus, in all his audacity, simply shrugs and smiles. “Nothing to explain, sweetie. He came up with that himself after I told him my lady would be joining me.”

You scoff in disbelief, but can’t help the small smile that falls to your lips. You take Sylus’s arm, wrapped your hand in the crook of his elbow as he leads you onto the ship.

“It’s beautiful,” you murmur, gazing around as he takes you to the deck. And you could only imagine what it would be like when you went out to sea.

“I figured you would like it,” he murmurs. “Glad to see my instincts weren’t wrong.”

You don’t miss the way his red eyes look to you, knowing he’s waiting for your words of affirmation. You laugh behind your hand, because yeah, he’s right.

You hum, taking his hand in your own. “Thank you for considering me.”

You also don’t miss the way his large fingers eagerly twine with your own, nor the way his eyes soften and blend with devotion and affection.

“Always.”

Thirty minutes pass before the ship takes off into the open sea. You barely feel it until Sylus has you stand to take you back outside from the dining area.

“So, where are we going?” you ask, gazing up at him.

Sylus’s mouth twitches into a smirk. “It’s a surprise.”

You grumble, humoring the man. “Of course it is.”

Sylus’s coat never leaves your shoulders the couple hours you’re both out on the deck. He seems to enjoy that, too; you wearing his clothes sparks something behind his eyes that you’re all too familiar with. The thought itself has your cheeks warming and thighs pressing together.

He flicks his wrist to check his watch when a timer beeps twice. You can’t help it when your eyes linger on his hand. You’ve always had a fixation on his them—on how big and warm they are in comparison to yours, on how his long fingers stretch across your body, and how they gently wrap around you and pull you close like he’d die without touching you. Those hands that had once forced you to attempt to resonate with him for three days had become soft, remorseful and loving. And he’d more than earned your forgiveness.

“Dinner should be ready.”

You grin. “You brought your chef?”

“Just for this trip,” he retorts, standing to full height. “Come.” His hand outstretches to you and you take it without hesitation.

You don’t miss the way his eyes briefly light up at the way your fingers immediately interlace with his. It’s a small joy to you, but to him it means everything—a testament to how far the two of you have come.

Dinner, as always, is perfect. Dessert even more so. You’re not too full, but more than satisfied. You give your compliments to the chef, who in turn happily skips back to the kitchen like he’s on cloud nine. And you can’t help but look at Sylus and smile as he downs his whiskey like it’s water.

“You don’t compliment your chef enough,” you comment. “One sentence from me and he acts like he’s never heard praise.”

Sylus hums as his brows raise, humored. He chuckles with the whiskey in his mouth before swallowing it to retort, “He knows his cooking is excellent. I suppose I just have a limit to how many compliments I can give out in a day.”

You place your chin in your hand. “Oh, really? Then how many do I get to have in a day?”

Adoration fills his ruby orbs. “As many as you want, my beloved.”

His hand reaches for your left over the table. Sylus’s thumb rubs over your fingers, resting atop your ring finger.

“Have I told you that you look exquisite tonight?” he whispers.

“You haven’t,” you reply cheekily. “I think you owe me a few more, don’t you think?”

The soft music in the background dies as you begin to hear your heart thunder in your ears. You do hope that Sylus can’t hear it pounding away like you can.

“Seems like I do,” he says in an exhale, leaning back in his seat but not letting go of your hand. His eyes have changed—once filled with adoration, now filled with a fire that makes heat rise to your cheeks and desire burn between your legs. “I don’t think I’ve shown you the bedroom yet, have I?”

You grin. “You haven’t. I’d like to see it.”

But what you don’t anticipate is your man standing and abruptly lifting you into a one arm carry. Your sharply inhale in surprise, arms immediately weave around his neck for support, but you know he’d never drop you anyway.

You trail your nose under his jaw, pressing a long kiss to his skin by his ear. Your fingers dig into his shoulder, the subtle presser making him hasten his long strides.

“Sweetheart—” Sylus gulps as you press two fingers to his mouth to silence him.

You pepper slow kisses down his neck, nipping at the skin every other kiss. It’s when you reach his collarbone you hear the click of a door. And seconds later you find the plush fabric of blankets underneath you and Sylus’s firm hand cradling the back of your head as he tilts your head back to capture your lips with his.

Between each heated kiss you attempt to catch your breath, only for your lover to devour your mouth with his own again and again.

“Mmmh— Sylus, let me—” another kiss “—catch my breath.”

He has a hard time pulling away. Sylus rests on one knee at the edge of the bed, hands grasping at the back of your bare calves as he catches his own breath and tries to pull himself back to his senses before he finishes himself off early.

While you toss your head back and close your eyes, trying to let oxygen catch up to your brain, Sylus lifts his head to look at you. He drinks in your appearance—the starry night sky sewn into the strapless obsidian dress (one that he had specially made for you) accentuated your body exactly the way he envisioned.

As he watches your breasts rise and fall with every breath, he feels his pants tighten even more. He’s so painfully hard just from simply kissing you—a testament to what you do to him, how deeply you affect him.

He rests his head against the plush of your thigh. As he trails his hand down your leg, he realizes you still have your heels on.

Your head snaps up at the feeling of one heel coming off, then the other.

“Sylus, what— Oh, shit.”

The momentum of him lifting your body further up the bed and hiking your dress up catches you off guard. His mouth latches to your thighs, kissing and biting all the way up until he reaches the fabric of your panties—the only thing between him and what he wants.

“Such a dark red, darling,” he hums. “Was this for me?”

“It might’ve been,” you tease.

As his finger loops around the red fabric covering you, Evol ready to help rip it off, your hand makes its way into his hair and tugs, forcing his eyes to attention.

“Rip these, I’m okay with that. Rip the dress, and I’ll kill you,” you say, half-joking. But damn did you really like this dress.

He chuckles, eyes glazed with lust. “Understood.”

As soon as he tears them away and hikes your dress even further around your hips, Sylus’s mouth does nothing short of devour your pussy. You let out the loudest, wanton moan you’ve ever heard from yourself as his tongue buries itself in and against your folds. Your head falls back against the pillows, hands moving to grip the sheets beneath you to maintain some semblance of being grounded as Sylus eats you out like a starved man. Your legs are over his shoulders, allowing him the best access to your womanhood.

“Oh— Fuuuck, Sylus. Ohmygod, please don’t stop,” you beg, threading one hand through his hair again, grip tighter than earlier.

His reply comes in the form of him pushing his thick middle finger inside of you and mouth sucking on your clit. You wail, bucking your hips into his mouth. His ring finger promptly follows, stretching your cunt and sinking deep inside of your walls. Tears of overstimulation line your eyes as you grasp at then pillow behind your head.

Both hands twine into his silver locks of hair, pressing him deeper into you. What you miss amidst your own haze of ecstasy is Sylus grinding himself against the mattress to find some sense of relief. His mind is at war, wanting nothing more than to cum right then and there versus wanting to watch his seed spill from your hole. It takes every ounce of self-control of his own body to not climax while he simultaneously loses his mind while his mouth is attached to your cunt.

“Don’t— Please— Sylus! Sylus, I’m gonna—”

Your back arches off of the bed, and you can’t help but press him further into you and grind against his face. Sylus’s arms wrap around your thighs, holding you steady. The deep groan of his satisfaction that leaves him only spurs you on further and further and further until your thighs clench around his head and you cum. Hard.

And Sylus more than enjoys sucking and licking away at your release as you climax, prolonging it as much as he can. He lifts your lower body into the air as he continues his onslaught of your pussy with his mouth and tongue, the pressure of your thighs on either side of his head making him dizzy. Your essence coats his chin and nose, your scent driving all his senses wild and pulls the remainder of his blood down to his cock.

He gains a free hand as you tighten your legs around his shoulders. He unbuckles his belt and slips it off with practiced ease before moving to unzip and unbutton his pants, tugging away at them.

When your hips stop shaking is when Sylus grabs your thighs with both hands and sets your body back down on the mattress. He hovers over you once again, taking in your disheveled appearance and partially-lidded eyes. His long fingers brush your skin and cradle your jaw.

“Still with me, sweetheart?” he asks.

You pant and gaze up at him. “Barely.” You swallow. “That tongue of yours is brutal.”

Sylus laughs. It’s almost enough to make him forget about the painful fact that his cock is straining against his pants. Until your knee brushes against it when you lift yourself from the bed and he groans.

You giggle as his head presses against your shoulder.

“You really shouldn’t neglect yourself like that,” you hum, wrapping an arm around his shoulder.

Sylus’s lips meet your neck opposite of your arm wrapped around him and presses a long kiss to your sweaty skin, murmuring hotly into your ear, “There’s no one to blame but you, beloved. And I highly suggest you take responsibility.”

You moan and arch into him as his hands work on your dress, unzipping the back entirely and lowering it just below your breasts. You arch your back so he can undo the bra, and as soon as it’s on the floor, his mouth is on your chest. Sylus sucks and bites at your nipples, worshipping them and your breasts as he grinds his clothed erection into your bare pussy, soaking his dress pants in your juices.

You begin unbutton his shirt through the haze of your desire… before you slip your hands through the remaining buttons and fully rip his dress shirt apart, exposing his thick torso. You both chuckle at the sound of the buttons hitting the floor.

“Impatient?”

“Like you aren’t,” you remark.

Sylus shrugs off his shirt in a fluid motion and tosses it to the side from one arm. You manage to slide off your dress within a few moments, just as Sylus manages to get off his pants and briefs and… Oh…

You’d almost forgotten how big he is. Sure, the two of you have spent a couple more… sensual evenings together since you had him use your place as a safe house (and then him bringing you to his), but it always makes you shudder when your eyes land between the apex of his muscular thighs.

His tip weeps with precum, heavy cock red and flushed and—

Sylus’s breath is hot against your ear as he asks, “Like what you see, darling?”

—goddamn it you need it inside of you.

Your nails dig into his bicep, your other hand wrapping around his neck to pull him into a heated kiss, and Sylus is more than happy to oblige. His kiss is deep and reverent. A small moan escapes him as you two briefly pull apart for air before diving back into one another.

Everything is hot; your cheeks are flushed with the heat of desire and your pussy aches to have Sylus buried inside of you.

You pull him down on top of you with the arm around his neck, your other hand grasping his cock and positioning it at your entrance. Sylus hisses, hips bucking slightly as his fingers clench at his attempts at restraint.

“Fuck,” he pants. His red eyes clear for a moment, turning into a gentleness reserved for you as he asks, “You think you can take it?”

“I think you ate me out enough earlier I’ll manage,” you joke. Then your nails dig into the meat of his back, the sensation making him softly hiss again. “But if you don’t I’ll be doing it for you then.”

Sylus chuckles, nose dipping to your collarbone.

“My beloved is always so greedy, isn’t she?”

There is no retort from you—only a loud moan as Sylus’s tip enters you fills the room. He stops after that though, and as you look up to him to ask him why he stopped, you’re stunned at the sight before you.

Sylus is flushed red, panting and sweating as his muscles flex.

“Sylus?”

“Don’t,” he warns, shaking his head. “Give me… a moment. You feel… too good.”

The implication is clear. Sylus’s head falls as he inches himself a little further, delighting in hearing you gasp as he sinks more and more inches of himself inside of you. It takes all he has not to just cum at the feel of you; every ounce of self-control he has is being tested. He’s never been harder in his life, and being inside of the woman he loves—who feels like heaven wrapped around his cock—only proceeds to spiral him into a deeper pit of pleasure.

“Sylus… Sylus, more, please,” you hears you beg.

He’s halfway in, trying to take his time and let the romance of the evening last. But at that, and the sensation of your nails digging into his back, he finds himself a goner and lets his hips fall into yours, sinking the remainder of his fat cock into the depths of your wet pussy. A deep shudder passes through him, bliss running through his body.

“Fuck. Fuck, you feel divine,” Sylus says in a deep exhale.

“You’re so big,” you gasp, eyes clouded with the haze of lust. “Oh, Sy, you feel so good.”

The praise goes to his head immediately. He drags his cock back out slowly and a whine escapes you, hating the emptiness. But when Sylus places your legs over his shoulders and leans over you, it’s over for you both.

Your eyes roll into the back of your head as Sylus rolls his hips, sliding his full length back into the warm expanse of your pussy. His head falls back, and the pace he sets proceeds to bury you both alive underneath overwhelming ecstasy.

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he pants, clenching his fist into the sheet. “How I feel every time I look at you? Utter perfection is all I see. Do you feel what you do to me, darling?”

All you can feel is Sylus’s weight on top of you and the feel of his heavy cock inside of you as he stretches you open on him, carving your pussy into the shape of his cock. His pelvis rubs against your clit deliciously, spurring you on further. As much as you want to drive your hips up to meet his thrusts, Sylus has you pinned down into a mating press and all you can do is take what he’s giving you.

The papping noises of your bodies meeting filled the room, sending your thoughts into an even dirtier place. He feels so good reaching so deep inside of you, tip rubbing against that special spot perfectly, like you’re made to be perfect for each other. You clench around Sylus at another thought and he inhales sharply.

“What’re you thinking about?” he questions.

You shake your head. “N-Nothing.”

His long fingers grab your jaw gently. “Tell me.”

And then he slows his pace. “No, Sylus—”

“Then tell me what my beloved is thinking in that pretty head of hers,” he murmurs into your ear. “Or else.”

“I was thinking… about… Uhm…” Sylus rolls his hips back into you, his heavy balls pressing against your ass as he awaits your answer.

“Well?”

“I, uh— A baby.”

At the word, you shy away into your arm. But Sylus doesn’t say anything, which makes you confused. After a couple seconds, you gaze back up at him. His eyes show how stunned he is, pupils blown as no doubt the word also revolves around his own mind.

“Sylus, I— Oh, fuucckk.”

His body weight presses your body into the mattress further, leaving you at his mercy as Sylus’s pace becomes brutal, like he’s let his base instincts take over. His big hand finds yours and twines your fingers together as he drives his cock into your pussy over and over and over again, the squelching noises only growing louder and louder in your ears.

“My kitten… wants a baby then?” He hums into your ear. “She wants me to cum inside of her and carry my baby, is that right?”

“It was… just a thought.”

He laughs as your pussy clenches around him more at his words.

“Seems like it’s more than just a thought.”

Sylus’s mouth meets yours in another kiss, powered by something more than just lust. Your brain turns fuzzy and hot, reality beginning to finally blur as another climax ascends from the depths of your core.

Your eyes shut as his mouth finds the sweet spot on your neck. He sucks and nips at the skin with his teeth and you’ve no doubt that there’ll be plenty of love bites scattered across your skin for days after tonight.

When he nips at your ear, you squeak and clench around him again. Sylus groans into your ear, “Do that again.”

You oblige, clenching down on him and making him piston himself in and out of you faster. Every thrust turns into one that pushes the air from your lungs. All you can see, all you can feel is Sylus—feel his body heat as he presses your body down with his; feel the thickness of his cock stretch you open and the weight of his balls as they slap against your ass.

And it feels so good. The shlick and pap noises are getting to you. The coil that’s been winding up all night finally feels like it’s about to burst. Your back arches off the bed, breasts pressing into Sylus’s firm chest.

“Ohmygod, Sy, gonna cum, gonna cum fuckfuckfuuucckkk!”

He nips at your earlobe, biting down on it gently before whispering into your ear, “Indulge, my love. Indulge and I’ll fulfill every single one of your desires tonight.”

At long last, the coil snaps. Euphoria pilots itself to your brain and all across your body. You shake from the intensity, having to wrap your arms around Sylus to ground yourself as you reach your high.

Your orgasm sends him over the edge. He thrusts a few more times before he finds himself pressing himself as deep as he can possibly go and releasing his seed inside of your pussy. It’s almost too much, even for him. He doesn’t think he’s ever cum harder than tonight.

Your bodies rock together as you both fall from the heights of cloud nine. Sylus peppers your sweaty skin with kisses, across the bruised love bites he’d left earlier.

It’s only when he feels himself soft enough to slip out of you does he ask, “A family?”

Sylus’s voice is soft. So soft in fact that you barely hear him. You take a moment to reply, only to find yourself being easily lifted from the bed and onto Sylus’s chest.

“It’s… Something that’s crossed my mind a few times,” you admit bashfully.

Silence fills the air for a moment before he asks again, in the same, quiet tone he’d just used.

“With me?”

Your smile stretches across your face instantly. Your lips meet his chest, right over his heart. Your eyes meet his—uncertainty meeting unconditional love.

“And no one else.”

The next three days after are filled with you and Sylus partaking in all the activities that his yacht has to offer (plus more intimate times across the boat and it’s other rooms). He’d told you at one point that he would’ve just used the one he sails on regularly. But due to him wanting to spend more time with you than anything, and for you to have fun during the trip, he’d bought another and hired the captain to ensure safe passage.

Tonight however, was the night that you both were supposed to be arriving at your destination. You tried to help the anxiety and giddiness inside of you, trying to flatten it under a cool demeanor but Sylus just saw right through you.

Of course he would.

“There’s no reason to be nervous. It’s not like I’m taking you into enemy territory,” he jokes, gaze flicking to you from the stars in the open sky.

“I know that. I just can’t help it,” you mutter.

You shiver from the cold breeze, and Sylus shrugs off his leather jacket and places it over your shoulders. He leans down and zips it partway, resting his chin atop your head.

“Those hunter instincts of yours need to settle down,” he hums.

“I wish they would— Sylus!”

A hearty chuckle leaves him as you bounce away from his hold. Your eyes narrow at his treachery.

“What? Did I do something wrong?”

“Don’t you try and tickle me,” you warn playfully. You slip your arms through the sleeves of his leather jacket, trying to pull the sleeves back from over your palms to point at him. “Or I’m gonna tickle you back.”

Sylus smirks and rubs his fingers together. “Is that a challenge?”

“Mr. Sylus, Mrs. Sylus,” greets a familiar voice.

Embarrassment makes you duck your head away from the captain for a brief moment before you look at him.

“Just thought I’d come and let you know we’ll be docking soon.” The captain takes his hat off and bows before you both. “Thank you for allowing me the chance to sail you both for the last three days.”

Sylus nods his head in acknowledgment. “Thank you for giving us safe passage, Arthur.”

Arthur nods, reapplies his cap and heads back to steer the ship into the upcoming port.

You don’t get to watch as he disappears since Sylus wraps his arms around you, pulling your chin to his chest. He presses a sweet kiss to your temple and murmurs, “I do believe we’re here.”

The distraction of the captain was long enough that the scenery before you had changed into the moonlit sea into a large landmass illuminated by the full moon above.

Your jaw drops open at the sight, eyes lighting up as you get closer and closer to the port where the ship would dock.

“Sylus, where are we?” you ask quietly.

“It’s an island,” he states. “One that I bought awhile back and was making… renovations for.”

“Renovations? For what?”

He laughs softly and looks at you like you’re a goddess. “For whom, you mean.”

Your eyes widen into saucers. Is he…? Could he seriously mean…?

“Sylus, you bought me an island?” you inquire, utterly flabbergasted.

“I can’t exactly un-buy it, so I do hope you’ll like it,” he replies. To your ears and yours alone you can hear his wavering tone, like he’s awaiting your disappointment. You can’t have that.

You cup his cheeks and force him to look at you again.

“Sylus, I love it; even if it’s the most absurd thing I’ve ever been gifted, I love it. It’s just going to take me time to get used to it,” you tell him. Then you step on your tippy-toes and give him an eskimo kiss. “Thank you. I love you.”

You kiss him there at the front of the ship, wrapped in his warm, protective embrace, momentarily oblivious to the world and your surroundings.

What you’re also oblivious to, and have been since the start of the trip, is the fat diamond ring that’s been tucked away, hidden in Sylus’s bottom drawer to his dresser. And also to the fact of his other reason of being nervous.

To him hoping that you’ll say “yes” when he gets down on one knee to ask you to marry him.

But he’ll save that for later. Right now he intends to indulge and savor your lips on his and you being tucked into him, safe from the world to be loved and worshipped by him.

And hopefully, for the rest of this lifetime.

#༄ kasswrites.#sylus x reader #sylus x you #sylus smut #sylus x y/n #sylus x mc #l&ds sylus #sylus love and deepspace #love and deepspace sylus #l&ds smut #l&ds x reader

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burgojo · 1 month ago

Text

PRIMADONNA. GOJO SATORU / M!READER

summary. the easiest way to a man's heart is through his stomach – in more than one way.

wc. 9k

tags. smut | dom top reader, sub bottom gojo, husbands gojo/reader, teacher reader. anniversary sex, "sir" for reader + "puppy" for gojo, oral (r. receiving), praise + degradation (gojo receiving), humping, riding, light s/m, bondage (wrists), overstimulation + multiple orgasms (gojo), belly bulge + size kink, crying, off-screen gojo in lingerie

"Satoru."

You smile, your eyes crinkling at the corners.

"If I don't get delayed, I'll be returning at night after my mission. It's a long plane ride back, so don't stay up for me, alright?"

Satoru was miffed, to say the least. How dare they steal away his husband on such short notice? You barely had time to pack a suitcase. And worst of all? It coincided with your anniversary.

For the first time in ten years, he would be spending that day alone. He wanted to be angry – angry at those spineless geezers cooped up in that musty room – but all he could really feel was disappointment. You'd been an anchor for so long that he felt listless without you by his side, throwing the weight of your name behind his whenever he did something he thought was right.

Whatever. At least he woke up to a 'happy anniversary' voice message from you that morning.

"An exponential is a function of the form f of x equals a to the power of x, where a cannot equal one, zero, or anything less than zero. You'll want to note down these eight laws on the board. I'd recommend putting them in a table at the top of a page so you don't have to go flipping for them in exams. I'll go through them one at a time."

Satoru drops the white stick of chalk for a pale blue one, which he then uses to scrawl a line of numbers in a blank space on the left side of the blackboard. "So – a to the x, a to the y equals a to the x plus y. This is a biggie! You'll see it a lot. When bases a are the same and the terms are multiplied, the exponents are added. Added. Don't multiply them."

"Sensei!" Yuji's hand shoots up into the air. "Why aren't they multiplied?"

"Great question!" He glances over the board, then erases a large chunk of old numbers in one fell swoop. Nobara stops writing immediately with an odd expression and Satoru laughs, waving a hand as if to dissipate her troubles. "You can copy off Megumi's notes for that example, Kugisaki. Just leave a space for it."

He continues, "Now, Yuji, we remember that an exponential is multiplying the base by itself a certain number of times, yes? Let's use two raised to the power of three. That's two times two times two. Now, if you have two to the power of four, that's two by two by two by two. Phew, what a mouthful. Are we tracking?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Good! We'll multiply these terms now. Wait!" He raises a finger and splits the two strings of numbers into two sets of brackets. "Putting these brackets here to separate the terms for clarity... Anyway – because the base number, two, is being multiplied over and over—" He slashes a little multiplication sign between the two brackets. "Ta-da! You've got two multiplied by itself seven times, so the answer is two to the power of seven. Therefore, you can skip this whole process in your written answers and just add the powers! Yay!"

"That's crazy."

"When it clicks, it clicks, right?" Satoru snaps his fingers, and to Yuji's left, Megumi snaps out of staring out of the window. "No slacking, Megumi! I can see you daydreaming over there."

"Kinda hard not to with only three students," Nobara mutters under her breath. At least when she dozes off, it's not with her head turned ninety degrees and propped on a fist. Seriously – it's like Megumi never learnt to nap discreetly at the back of the class. Come to think of it, she's certain he's never hidden earbuds under his hair, either.

"Sorry," he murmurs nonchalantly. "I'm not a maths person."

"Megumi, you're tearing me apart."

He shrugs.

"Since what you're doing is obviously more important than listening to your awesome teacher, would you like to share with the class?" Satoru drawls with a shit-eating grin. He sets the chalk aside, dusting off his hands, and leans over his desk, hands flat and forming a triangle with his thumbs and forefingers. "Is there a girl, Megumi-chan? A boy? Ah, a teenager's first love – I still remember mine as if it were yesterday..."

"Cut it out, you're not that old." Megumi glances outside again. Satoru follows his line of sight, but nothing stands out to him. "There was a guy on campus. Looked like a weirdo."

"Oh, for the love of – do you not remember what a finger to the lips means?"

Behind his blindfold, Satoru's eyes shoot open. It's uncomfortable, but so is his face-splitting smile, so wide it hurts his jaw.

None of that matters. He explodes with joy.

"Baby!" he squeals. He launches himself with the speed of a fastball at the person standing in the doorway. It's a miracle nobody goes crashing through the opposite wall.

"You're back, you're back," Satoru coos, burying his face in your shoulder and squeezing your middle so tightly that your spine pops. "Oh, man, you have no idea how much I missed you!"

You laugh, a little wheezy from having the air knocked out of your lungs, and pat his back. A ring glints on your finger. He presses himself deeper into you and you have to brace to stop yourself from toppling over. You close your eyes and inhale the soft floral scent of his hair, which draws out all the tension in your body. Lord knows you've accumulated a lot of it recently.

"There, there," you hum, gently grasping the back of his neck to peel him off you. For the first time, you get a good look at him. He hangs from the nape of his jacket like a kitten, a big dumb grin on his face. His pale cheeks are flushed, and your heart races a little from his sheer excitement. It's flattering.

What a sweetheart.

"We can talk later," you murmur with a smile, setting him down on flat feet. "Just wanted to stop by to drop off your lunch."

He glances down at the lunchbox-sized insulated bag in your hand. He accepts it gently, cradling it like gold. "My lunch...?"

"Mm, that's right. I hate to imagine how you fared without me." You slip a hand into the pocket of your pants. "I'll cook tonight, okay? Anyway, that's all. Toodle-oo."

"Wait!" Yuji slams his hands against his desk as his chair screeches against the ground. "Did I hear that right? Did sensei call you 'baby'?"

"Yes," you say, and Satoru's heart flutters at the pride in your voice. "You must be Itadori Yuji, and you must be Kugisaki Nobara. Satoru spoke of you often. Nice to finally meet you – I'm Satoru's husband."

Nobara replies in kind with a little bow and a polite greeting. Megumi's the only one still sitting, sheltering his eyes with his hand as if he can hide from the inevitable embarrassment. She turns to Satoru with an accusing glare, her hands on her hips. "No way you scored a guy like that with your personality! What'd you do, huh? Promise him money?"

"He hasn't even introduced himself yet and you're already taking his side?" Satoru whines, both of his arms wrapped around your own.

"I can tell that he's a respectable and dutiful man. You, however..."

"I mean, opposites attract, right?" Yuji offers kindly.

"Yuji! Are you saying I'm not a respectable person?" He huffs. "I'm telling Suguru to work you guys twice as hard tomorrow morning. Ridiculous..."

Nobara jabs an accusing finger at him. "You're ridiculous. Which is why I'm so shocked that anyone with any sense would marry you."

"Thrice as hard."

"Easy," you murmur to Satoru fondly. "But he's right about one thing. I haven't introduced myself properly. My name is YN Gojo-LN. You'll have me as a teacher next year. Call me LN-sensei – helps avoid the confusion."

Satoru tugs on your sleeve with a pout. "C'mon... I like it when you use my name. They're not gonna get confused by it. After all, I am the prettier one."

"Hard disagree, sensei," Nobara says flatly.

You smile as Satoru presses himself further into your side, wrapping your arm around his shoulders. "Don't worry, darling. You're plenty good-looking to me."

"You think so?"

"I know so, my beautiful little lily," you say affectionately, pinching his cheek. He holds your hand to his cheek, leaning into it, and Nobara nearly gags at the dopey expression on Satoru's face and the way his leg kicks up behind him like a schoolgirl with a crush. She glances at Megumi with disbelief written on her face and jabs a thumb over her shoulder. He nods solemnly as you coo over Satoru, your voice light and bouncy like a summer breeze.

You turn your attention back to the three first-years, all looking far more attentive after their break from staring at slanting strings of numbers. "It was lovely to meet you – and good to see you, too, Megumi, I can see you slouching there – but Satoru is only one-out-of-eight exponential laws explained. I'm not about to be the cause of bad grades. Ciao, everyone."

Reluctantly, Satoru unfolds himself from around you, and you're quite surprised. You'd think he'd fight harder to keep—

He seizes your wrist in a steely grip and drags you out into the hall. He shuts the door on his students' exclamations.

Immediately, he collapses into your chest, rather more raw and vulnerable than earlier. You wrap your arms around him and coo into his ear, cupping the back of his neck. He sighs, short and sharp and a little shaky, and his breath puffs against your collarbone.

"I was worried I'd lose you," he whispers, hands gliding all over your body as if to prove to himself that you're all still there, warm and complete and ready to embrace him. "Those damn idiots, taking you from me. Especially at a time like this..."

"Relax, dearie," you hum, and the old nickname makes his lips twitch upwards. "I was your equal for a while. I won't keel over so easily."

"You took on two special grades at once and went in ill-prepared because they couldn't do their damn jobs. How am I supposed to trust them when they can't even count to two?"

"Then trust me," you implore, cupping his cheek. He's always been thin, but you're glad you're back. Maybe he'll be less cranky with some meat in his stomach. "Always said we'd get through this together, didn't we? That includes dealing with the elders. I've got your back, but let's not make problems now – not when we have Yuji to look after."

He sighs and pushes his cheek into your shoulder a little harder, rubbing his face into you like a cat. His hair tickles your cheek. His grip tightens, then loosens. "Ugh. You're crampin' my style. Rebellion suits me."

"Obedience suits you better," you murmur lowly, and Satoru shivers at the timbre of your voice. Your hand slips down to cup his chin, lifting his face to yours. His breath hitches. "Listen to me, Satoru. You know I'm right."

He exhales shakily as you dip your head, lips brushing his. He leans into it, trying to take more, but you turn away. "But—"

"Satoru."

Heat zings up his spine. Your nails dig slightly into his skin and he swallows harshly, burning up under the weight of your gaze. Half condescending and half tender, you rake your stare over him from head to toe. It lasts no longer than a second but Satoru's knees weaken anyway.

"Just don't do anything without me," you whisper, bringing his face closer to yours. You press your lips to his and he fists the front of your shirt tightly, gasping as your free hand glides down his waist to rest on the small of his back. He arches slightly and tilts his head to deepen the kiss.

He tastes like sugar and oranges and despite the not-so-sweet flavour of the coffee you had earlier, he devours you as if his life depends on it, tongue twisting with yours. He moans softly at the smoky roasted taste, dark and rich. Even after all these years, he marvels at how perfectly he matches with you – the yin to your yang, the shrike to your thorn. He'd be missing out any other way.

His heartbeat quickens. You can feel it beneath his ribs, his chest pressed to yours, and even through his thick clothes you can feel him yearn for you – the very essence of his bright soul twists and tumbles, reaching for yours. He is the orchid to your oak and just as needy.

Before you forget yourself and get too handsy in the middle of the school hallway, you draw away, tugging your hands back to your sides. Satoru whines softly with the loss of your touch and your lips on his. He lifts his face, lips pursed into a pout as he chases another kiss. You press a finger against his lips with a chuckle.

"Not yet, Satoru. You still haven't promised me."

He pushes your hand away impatiently. "Promise." He puckers up and leans in again.

You click your tongue and grab a fistful of his hair, keeping him at bay the same way you would with an overly-affectionate cat. You lift a brow. "And what are you promising?"

He groans, and you know he's rolling his eyes under his blindfold. "That I'm not gonna make trouble for us. I promise I won't square up against a bunch of geriatrics. Happy, baby? Can I get my kiss, now?"

"Only one more." You dip in, and Satoru hums appreciatively. You open your eyes again with a tiny smile. "There. Now, off you go. You have maths to teach, nerd."

"You're a nerd," he rebuts automatically. "You don't have to leave, y'know. Just sit in the back, like the principal does."

"I'd just be a distraction for you."

"But you'd make me happy. Come on. It's our anniversary."

"The answer's no, Satoru." You smile, tugging his hair gently, and his head feels light. He understands why they call it lovesick. "G'luck, sweetheart."

His bottom lip juts out and he crosses his arms, glancing aside. He ruffles his hair roughly as if to drag himself out of his own thoughts. "Fine... Will I see you later?"

"Mm. I'll take a nap when I get home and then start on dinner. I was thinking something Thai?" You touch his shoulder and he shivers slightly, fingers wrapped loosely around your wrist. It's endearing how infatuated he is with you. You fix his blindfold, smoothing out the sides. "Get home safely, Satoru."

"Yessir." He darts in one last time, sneaking in one last kiss on the cheek. He grins, playful and flushed, as you grumble something about being an 'enabler'. You lift a hand and begin to turn away.

When you're halfway down the hall, he calls out, "You better make it up to me, hot stuff!"

"You're spoilt enough as it is," you call back, eyes crinkling. "Toodles!"

Satoru hums a little tune under his breath as he steps back into the classroom, sliding the door closed behind him. There's a bounce in his step as he moves towards his desk, hovering over a textbook and flipping forward a few pages to find new equations to throw up on the board.

After a pause, with Satoru's soft humming the only thing filling the room, Nobara finally breaks the silence.

"So, sensei... are you gonna tell us what that was all about?"

He glances up, a clueless smile on his face. "Eh? What was what about?"

She stares, appalled. "Uh, the fact that you're married? To the coolest-looking guy I've seen here? He must really be something if he's got you wrapped around his finger like that..."

Megumi sits up in his seat, picking up his pen and ruler and busying himself with ruling new margins into his blank pages. "He's not much better than Gojo, Kugisaki. Together, they're both total fools."

"How can he be more of a fool than he already is?"

"You never mentioned a partner, Gojo-sensei," Yuji says, having clearly abandoned any notion of learning. His notebook isn't even open anymore. "How'd you meet?"

"I didn't take you for a romantic, Yuji," Satoru coos, though he tosses his piece of chalk onto the blackboard's ledge and dusts off his hands. He circles the desk to sit back against it, clasping his hands with a wide smile. "We met here, actually! He's older than me, and he was the one who gave me a campus tour and showed me my room. He was just as handsome back then as he is now. I liked hanging out with him a lot."

Yuji's eyes are wide with intrigue. "Oh! Were you high-school sweethearts? That's so neat, sensei!"

"In a way," he replies, voice soft with fondness. "At first, it was a political marriage. He has an influential name and a uniquely powerful technique, so our families thought it was a good idea to pair us up so the other clans would be less likely to stand against our decisions. We became good friends, so we grew to be alright with it – we were basically already living in each other's rooms, anyway. Marrying him meant I could eat his curry more often, so I was honestly pretty eager to move in with him after graduating."

"Really? You seemed like the type of person to be bad with spice," Nobara comments, tilting her chair on its back legs. "Guess I was wrong."

Leaning back, Megumi speaks around Yuji's body. "No, he is. LN-san often makes two dishes – one with spice, one without. He started when I was a kid, but he still does it for Gojo."

Nobara clicks her tongue. "What? Seriously – he's way too good for you, sensei! I can't believe this. The idea that someone like you had a boyfriend at my age when I don't... I'm, like, actually upset."

"I mean, I also gained two children shortly after, so maybe you should wait a bit for a boyfriend, Kugisaki," Satoru says thoughtfully, tapping his chin. Megumi's face reddens at the statement and his knuckles turn white around his pen.

"Don't say that," he scoffs. "Your marriage had nothing to do with the two of us!"

Pouting, Satoru wags a finger in his direction. "So rude, Megumi-chan! I'm telling your dad. No curry for you for a month."

He rolls his eyes and his mouth curls. "You're annoying."

Nobara snorts and hides her snickers behind her palm. She leans in Yuji's direction and whispers, "Guess he's got a favourite parent."

He nods in agreement. Clearing his throat, Yuji dutifully raises his hand, looking grave. "Sensei, if you're married, why don't you wear a ring?"

"Hm? I do! Wanna see it? Oh, of course you do, you asked," he says cheerfully. He thrusts a hand down the tall neck of his collar and pulls out a silver chain, off of which hangs a platinum band studded with tiny, glittering diamonds. He beams, turning the pretty little thing this way and that to catch the light. "His is more traditional, 'cause he's a fuddy-duddy, but silver suits my skin tone better and diamonds are a classic."

He unclasps the chain from around his neck, and Yuji and Nobara instantly shoot up out of their chairs to inspect the ring closer. They ooh and ahh over it, discussing the bevels and facets and whatnot. He slips the band onto his left hand and shows it off with a beaming smile, nodding proudly when Nobara remarks how well it really does suit him.

"Why is your face so red, Gojo?"

The abrupt question is Megumi's. Like clockwork, everyone turns to him, then turns to Satoru. In response, he only tilts his head with an oblivious smile pasted on his face – his white hair flops over, like a dog's ears. "Eh?"

Megumi sighs and lowers his gaze, scratching tornadoes aimlessly into the margins of his page. "You're terrible – it was two months, not two years. The separation anxiety is crazy."

"He does seem like the type to be clingy," Nobara whispers to Yuji.

"It's not sepa—he thinks it's cute!" he sputters, lifting his bejewelled ring finger as if it's his middle finger. "Look – he married me for it! Jeez, Megumi, you really know how to make a guy feel bad. And you know what that means."

Megumi's face scrunches. "You're gonna follow him around the house like a lost puppy for the rest of the day."

"Right you are!" says Satoru giddily. "I'm sorta disappointed you don't live with us right now. I could've made it so much worse for you if you and YN went out in public. You'd be begging to learn about exponential and logarithmic functions then."

He turns towards the board and claps his hands, startling all three of his students as the sound echoes through the room. "Speaking of! Rule number two: power x over y with identical base a is equal to a to the x minus y. Back in your seats, boys and girl – I hope everyone's awake now. Let's power through every rule before class ends! Heh – geddit? Power? Because – oh, you're all no fun. I'm funny. Let's continue."

—

With a jingle of keys, Satoru twirls through the front door. "Honey, I'm hooome!"

Your voice floats through the hallway. "In the kitchen!"

He kicks his shoes off and dumps his messenger bag onto the couch. He bounds into the spacious kitchen and slithers up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist.

With a chuckle, you take half a step back from the open flame of the stove. "Careful. It's hot."

"Not hotter than you." His voice is muffled against your shoulder. "Didja miss me?"

"Only a little bit. You are a handful." You stir the pot, picking shards of bone out of the broth. Satoru salivates. He can already feel the tender meat falling off the bone. "You're home early, baby. Dinner won't be ready for a while."

"Rushed back to see you." He kisses your neck, inhaling deeply. The scent of your cologne is heady and woodsy, and he's embarrassed to admit that he's used it on himself when the ache really got to him. "Maybe we can... spend some time together...?"

You laugh, the sound rumbling through your chest, and Satoru smiles automatically. "Eager little thing. You really want to do that now, when I'm obviously very busy?"

"Well, the veggies aren't a pressing concern," he points at the covered bowl, "and the soup's not done. Put it on low and you have both hands free to do things with me."

"And what 'things' would that entail, Satoru?"

"Fun things." He pushes his blindfold up, revealing his startling blue eyes. He looks up at you through his white lashes, a cheeky smile spreading across his face. "Things involving this," he points at his lips, "and this." He points at yours.

Because your hands are damp from dealing with the vegetables, you can't touch him, but you turn and lean in his direction and he drapes his arms over your shoulders. You hum, taking in his beauty like an old-timey knight with his secret lover. "Sounds a bit boring, honestly. We did that earlier. Any other ideas?"

His eyes widen with betrayal. "What—? Fine! This—" his lips "—and this." His hand lowers to the zip of your jeans, brushing over the front. His tongue flickers over his lower lip as he glances down, as if he's imagining it already, and you struggle to keep your composure. His eyes lift to yours. "Yeah?"

You draw in a breath. "Nah. You don't last long enough for that."

"Mou," he whines, brows furrowing, "I can! Just let me show you – y'know, I've been practicing. I've definitely gotten better."

"Whore," you mutter affectionately, slipping out of his arms to wash your hands. You tug your sleeves higher and Satoru sighs dreamily at the sight, cupping his cheek. "You seriously want to do this now? I could burn down the house on accident."

"Yes, I wanna do it now," he huffs, hooking a slender finger beneath his blindfold, as if showing off how long and pretty they are. "The house is insured."

"You – You're ridiculous, baby." You dry your hands and face him properly, gaze flickering over his body. He squirms slightly, fidgeting with his collar. "Hm... Suppose I say yes. What would you do?"

"Ah," he breathes, stepping closer. He places his hands on your chest, pretending to fix your collared shirt, and you rest one on his hip, tugging him in. He flashes you a flustered smile as he bumps into you. "Well, I'd, um – I'd kiss it."

"Mm."

"And I'd... lick the tip, 'nd..." He shakes his head and headbutts your shoulder, eyes squeezing shut with an embarrassed titter. "Babe, don't make me say it! I'll show you, okay? I'll show you how much I missed you. Spoilers: it's a lot."

"Well, when you put it like that..." You dial down the stovetop's heat until the flame is all but gone. Satoru's grin widens. "I'm interested."

He smirks and pecks your cheek, grabbing your hand and dragging you out of the kitchen. He pushes you down on the couch in the living room, taking a moment to shuck off his jacket and tug his shirt hem out from his beltline. He drapes himself over your lap, long legs bracketing yours, and places his hands on your shoulders.

Naturally, your hands come to rest upon his thighs.

He pauses. Have your hands always looked so large compared to him...? He swallows, Adam's apple bobbing. His cock stirs in his tight pants.

You lean back with a soft sigh, stroking his thighs absently. Your touch borders on his ass when it shifts up his hips and his breath hitches. You lift a brow, seemingly unaware of his racing heart. "So? Now what?"

"Shut up," he mumbles, reaching to help pull your t-shirt over your head. "Just admiring my hubby, y'know? Most would be flattered. You're mean for no reason."

"A second ago you were ready to jump my bones." You allow him to toss the shirt on the couch beside you, and his hands run appreciatively down your chest and stomach. "Let's go back to that."

"Yessir," he says breathily. He meant it teasingly, but it comes out with a slight tremor in the middle. His cheeks flush as you grab the front of his shirt and drag him towards you.

He whimpers softly as you press his ass down against your lap, his lips trapped against yours. He rocks his hips. The half-hard bulge in your pants demands his attention, and he moans your name as you pop open his shirt roughly, hands exploring his soft, smooth skin.

"Excited, are we?" you murmur, nibbling the side of his neck. The wet heat of your tongue makes him shiver, nails digging into your shoulders.

"S-Says you," he retorts, gasping softly as your callused fingers find his nipples, cute and pink. He jerks, stomach tensing, and reaches for your belt shakily, undoing it defiantly. "Not f-fair. Fuck, be gentle..."

You shake your head, exhaling softly as Satoru manages to fish you out of your open fly. Your length slaps his wrist. "We can be gentle or we can be done in time for dinner. Your choice."

Twitching as you flick his chest again, he whimpers. "You..."

"I?"

He gulps, blue eyes trained on the thick cock in his hands. He grips the base and twists his fist up and down the shaft, brushing his thumb over the slick slit. You groan softly, switching your attention to the other side of his neck. He tilts his head with a tremulous sigh, allowing you better access to his fair skin.

"I really did miss you, you know," he says quietly, stroking you to full mast. "Your smile, your body next to mine when I wake up... and this cock. Nothing's better than your cock."

With a chuckle, you squeeze his hips, feeling them twitch under your grip. Cute – sensitive. "Yeah? My pretty doll missed my cock?"

"Mhm. Tried other things while you were away." He shuffles off your lap, sliding between your knees with ease. He gazes up at you, one hand on your thigh and one hand on your cock, and licks his lips, glancing away. His cheeks are red. "But nothing can get me off like you can. You always fill me up so good, always treat me right..."

He leans forward, wrapping his pink lips around the head of your cock. His eyes flutter shut and his tongue swirls around your slit – the taste of your precome curls a ball of arousal in his lower belly, and he widens his knees slightly in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure. It doesn't help.

"Fuck, Satoru," you murmur, combing your fingers through his silver hair. His blindfold acts as a headband for his bangs, and you're afforded a full view of his creased concentrated brows and his wide-blown pupils. He bobs his head, thick lashes fluttering against his cheekbones, and swallows several inches of your cock.

But that's as far as he gets before he gags and pulls back, gasping wetly as his pale chest heaves. Nervously, he glances up at you, only to grow more desperate at the lazy grin on your face.

You prop your cheek on a fist. "What was that about improvement, Satoru? Seems about the same to me."

His frown deepens. "It's not my fault! You're just—"

"Excuses don't befit you."

His jaw snaps shut audibly. He reaches forward, taking your cock in both hands, and spits on it, smearing it down your length. You hum softly as he takes the tip into his hot mouth again, and his tongue flicks against the glans hungrily.

His nails dig into your thigh as he regulates his breathing, slowly bobbing his head down half of your length.

You have to hand it to him – he's gotten quicker at getting to this point. Still, he's shuddering, and he's clearly a mess, eyes glistening and lips slick with saliva. He looks small, shoulders pulled in, and so, so pretty as he chokes down your cock, determined to do it right.

"Oh, Satoru," you purr sympathetically, petting his hair. "Nearly thirty and you still can't suck cock to save your life... what'll I do with you?"

He pulls back with a slick pop, eyes wide and glossy. His voice is hoarse. "N-No, I can! I can, I promise, j-just let me try again—"

"You're my good boy, aren't you?"

The words die in his mouth. Head foggy, he nods, throat bobbing as he stares up at you.

You stroke his cheek, smiling softly as he leans into it and kisses your palm. "Let me fuck your mouth. Maybe your toys are just too small to be of any real help, huh?"

Ashamed, Satoru swallows, picking at his shirt cuffs. He inclines his head a few degrees, barely a nod, but he allows you to gently guide his mouth around your cock once more. He wanted to show you how much he loved you, how you wouldn't have to do all the work anymore, but there was something so addicting about the way you controlled his body that he was a little glad to have failed. His eyes slide closed as you grip the back of his neck and hold back his bangs, guiding your cock down his throat.

He moans softly, his own dick throbbing inside his pants as you hit the back of his throat. He swallows around it dutifully, grasping your thighs for balance as you pull him down on your cock.

"Good boy. That's it. Such a good boy f'me." Your voice is a low murmur, flowing in one ear and out the other. Satoru whines quietly, the vibrations making you groan, and saliva drips down your shaft. You lean back and lift your hips slightly, pushing into his mouth.

He gags slightly but settles quickly, tongue gliding against the velvety veins of your dick. Your grip on him is firm but gentle – if you let go, he'd slump like a ragdoll against your leg, no doubt about it. He rocks his hips pathetically against nothing, whimpering as you fuck his throat, and you take pity – you shift your leg between his knees.

He fists your jeans, knuckles white, and moans as he grinds against your leg, his cock throbbing against his zipper. His whimpers sound broken, choppy, in a way you recognise as gratefulness. Thank you, thank you. Your dick pulses and he swallows, drooling and panting with his lips stretched white around you. He swallows greedily around you, the shape of your cock distending his slender throat.

"It's okay," you hum, brushing the tears from the corner of his eye. "You don't need to do anything. Not when I'm here. You just need to be my pretty puppy, yeah? Let me take care of everything. I got you."

A rough shudder runs through his body. He shoves his cock against your leg. He twitches, hips jerking involuntarily, and you can't help the fondness in your voice when you coo at him.

"Oh, sweetheart..."

Carefully, you pull him off of you, and his tongue lolls out of his mouth as he pants, eyes clouded and hazy. His grasp on your leg tightens as you lean forward, placing a soft kiss on his forehead.

"Poor thing. Must be pretty pent up, huh?" You pull him up, and it takes a moment for him to find his balance. You tug his slacks down his hips, but the square something in his back pocket gives you pause. You dip two fingers inside and pull out a black packet.

"Condoms?" You glance up at Satoru, who looks anywhere but at you. "You planned this, didn't you? Dirty puppy."

He wrings his hands, finding his voice. "I-I'm sorry... I just – it's our anniversary, 'n' I thought—"

"You thought you'd be cute," you finish for him, and he nods with a soft pout. You reach in again and pull out another. And another. It's a row of them, separated by perforated tear lines, and his face grows red as you lift a disbelieving brow at them. You let the string of them hang from your fingers like a grocery receipt.

"Satoru... How many of these do you think we need?"

"I don't know! I'd rather be safe than sorry."

You chuckle and lean forward, pressing a kiss against his stomach. He cups the back of your head, slender fingers playing with your hair absently. "You're too cute. Wanna put one on for me?"

"You just like it when I touch you," he mumbles, but accepts the little square. He kicks off his slacks and underwear and takes a seat on your lap, tearing the packet open with his teeth at the same time. His eyes flick up to yours as he slides it down your shaft, his hands warm and pretty wrapped around you. He squeezes – you groan softly – and he whispers, "All done."

"Thank you, baby." You stroke his hips. He giggles in response.

"You can put it in," he murmurs, squeezing your shoulders as he leans forward and aligns your tip with his entrance. "I... Last night..."

"Hm." You watch him rub the tip against his hole – psyching himself up for it, you realise with a smile. "Was that before or after our call?"

His grip tightens. "Ah... After."

"Yeah?" Your smile takes on a dangerous edge and he gulps. "So, when you said you missed me..."

"S-Stop teasing me," he demands, his voice lilting with a whine. His brow furrows and he lowers himself on your cock, gasping as the head breaches his hole. The lube makes the glide easier, but the delicious burn of the stretch has his eyes fluttering and rolling back. The warmth... he's missed this. A toy couldn't have him shaking on his knees on the first thrust. Pain makes tears prick at his eyes. "Ohh, god..."

Satoru braces both hands against your shoulders, his toes curling in his black socks. He whimpers softly as you lean forward, pressing your chests together, in order to ease your cock deeper inside him. He rocks his hips, shallow and jagged, and presses his lips fervently to yours as he drops his hips and takes you all the way down to the base.

Tears prick at his eyes and he moans, long and loose and relieved. Your cock rests perfectly against his prostate, hot and thick, and every minuscule shift of his body has you rubbing deliciously against it. His cock throbs, dusky against his alabaster skin. His stomach flexes.

"Good?" you whisper, hot breath fanning against his throat. He shudders and nods, reaching back and spreading his asscheeks to swallow you deeper. His head falls to your shoulder as he lifts and lowers his hips messily, lips parted to gasp and pant softly.

You take over, hands big and rough on the creamy meat of his ass. There are new calluses on your palms, and a shard of annoyance cuts its way into the pleasured fog of Satoru's mind. Trying to appoint you clan leader through marriage – and therefore safe from the nuisance of arduous missions – had backfired fantastically, and now all those old coots know how much you mean to him.

Like, what was the point of marrying you to each other if you both still had to do the dirty work? Why couldn't he, as the strongest and least likely to complete the paperwork, simply come home to your kisses? You might hate him for making you do all the accounting and logistical work, but at least you'd be safe. He's very good at shoulder massages. The occasional assassin would be like swatting a fly to you.

"Sweetheart," you croon, snapping him out of his stewing displeasure. You grasp his chin in your hand and turn his face to yours, pressing a light kiss to the tip of his nose. He hums softly. "What's wrong?"

"I want you to be here every day," he whispers, pressing his cheek against yours. "Don't wanna have to make up for lost time like this. Drives me crazy."

"Oh, puppy... I know. But hey," you say, thrusting up into him and making him gasp, "you're hot when you're needy. And I'm all too willing to indulge you."

He clenches down around you. His cock twitches. "Mm, really? We could try using up all those condoms..."

You roll your eyes. "You're incorrigible."

"What does that – ah!"

He sinks his teeth into his bottom lip as you thrust up roughly into him and drag him down at the same time, his ass slapping your hips. He scrambles to brace himself, his cock dripping a weak spurt of precome on his stomach. His chest heaves, his face flushed and his eyes wide. His eyes are blown with lust, deep ocean-blue, and his lip quivers as you repeat it, fucking up into his soft, eager little hole hungrily.

Satoru pants, breaths rough and uneven, as he tries his best to ride your cock. But with every thrust, you slam against his prostate and knock the thoughts out of his skull. He stutters and moans, trying to repeat himself – because really, what do you mean he's incorrigible? – but you've got a wicked grin on your face that spells nothing but trouble for him.

"W-Wait," he squeaks out, arms trembling as he tries to hold himself up on your chest. "I'll—!"

"Come for me," you grunt, rolling his hips on your cock in a way that has his vision blooming with stars. "Lemme see you, Satoru. Let me see you, puppy."

He lets out a loud, sharp whine as his body jerks and his cock spurts, painting your stomach with thick ropes of white. The flush of his cheeks extends down his neck and chest, prettily pink, and he collapses against your chest, lazily rolling his hips and riding out his high.

Cooing his name softly, you pet his hair, which he melts into like pudding. His hum is like a purr when your nails scrape lightly against his scalp. "Good boy... so gorgeous when you come, aren't you? Did so well for me, sweetheart."

You begin to tug his blindfold down, as the rapid flickering of his eyes betrays how overwhelmed he is, but he shakes his head, nudging your hand to instead pull it off.

"No," he whines, raising his bright, flitting eyes to your face. They steady when they focus on your face, and his features soften. "Wanna see you. All of you." He exhales, a little shaky. "You still haven't finished."

"It'll be too much for you. Let's stop here."

He scowls. "How do you know that?"

"I—"

"Yeah, that's right. You don't. I can keep going." He lifts himself up on his knees until just the tip rests inside him, then drops back down. He swallows a whimper. "S-See? M'fine!"

Your brow furrows slightly as you hold him still. "Satoru—"

"Please," he interrupts, eyes wide and pleading. "Baby, please, I can do it. Want you to come, too, okay? I want to – because I love you."

You didn't think sudden love confessions in the middle of sex could be so hot.

A breathless grin makes its way across his lips when you glance away and sigh, your hands tightening on his waist. It's the perfect place to grab, slim and fitting just right against your palms. He places his hand against your stomach between his legs, arching his back ever so slightly.

"Well," you drawl, shifting slightly. His breath hitches as your cock brushes his prostate. "Then maybe you could show me how much you love me."

"You—" He lets out a bitten moan as you move his hips, helping him grind against you. "Baby."

In response, you only offer a smirk, eyes glinting.

He sighs shakily and nods, leaning back and bracing against your knees. The position tightens him up and you groan, head tipping back against the couch backrest. He traces shallow ovals over your lap, his hole fluttering against you with every tug.

"Feeling unsteady, puppy?" you remark, but it's softer than your usual teasing. You trace his ribs, thumbs brushing over his nipples. He whimpers.

"No," he breathes, quickening his pace. His half-hard cock smacks his stomach with every harsh drop of his hips, the reddened tip dripping and slick. "I got it."

It's hard to act as if the sight doesn't affect you. His lean muscles flex with every shift, and as he sucks in a shuddering breath, a bulge pokes his belly. The print of it appears and disappears with each roll of his hips.

"Fuck," you hiss, gliding your hand down and pressing a thumb against it. Satoru twitches and stutters at the sight, letting out a ruined cry when words fail him. His breath grows ragged as he rides you harder, eyes wet with need. The bulge in his tummy moves with him.

His white hair is dark silver at the ends, stuck to his temples. A thin sheen of sweat coats his body, shimmering when it catches the light. With his milky skin, it's as if he's been brushed with crushed pearls.

You reach up and brush a thumb against his bitten lower lip, plush and warm. He parts them and presses his tongue against the pad of your thumb, moaning as you push it in. He grabs your wrist, nails digging into your skin, and lavishes wet kisses upon it. His tongue swirls around your thumb as if it was your cock and he pants hotly, lips pursing ever-so-slightly around it.

Your cock throbs inside him. The beginnings of a smug grin tug at his pillowy lips, and his eyes flash confidently. They falter and roll back into his skull as you bury your cock inside him with a rough thrust – he melts into your touch, his pretty little cock pulsing and dripping precome down his shaft and balls.

"You're so good to me," you chuckle throatily, pushing your thumb deeper into his mouth. He moans sharply. The whiplash between your warm, caressing palm and the violence with which you fuck him makes him downright dizzy. "Maybe I should take long business trips more often."

At that, he lets out a wrecked little sob, shaking his head. He leans deeper into you.

"No?" He shakes his head again, cerulean eyes clouded and unfocussed as you force his hips up and down from tip to base, knocking the breath out of his lungs. "Oh, sweet thing..."

His legs quiver. He's barely holding himself up, his sensitive hole aching with the sharp burn each time you pull out. You press his face into the crook of your neck and he mewls as you tug his arms behind his back, your hands strong and firm. He feels powerless like this, buried in the scent of your sweat and cologne, and all he can do is moan.

He stiffens when something snaps around his wrists. He arches back, trying to spot it. "What—?"

"Sh-shh, puppy. You're too antsy. Gotta learn to take it slow." You smooth out his blindfold, twisted several times around his slim wrists. You glance down at him, your hair tickling his cheek. "Don't you?"

It feels like he's breathing soup. His heart hammers and he clenches around you, knees and feet scrabbling for purchase against the couch without the use of his arms. He whimpers, tugging at the bindings. His fingers flex. "Y-Yes, sir..."

"Good boy."

And god, do you take it slow. He's a mess in minutes, teary-eyed and trembling, as you use him like a toy, lifting and lowering him on your cock, which feels all too big and thick in his swollen, abused hole. He swears he can taste it. He babbles, his sudden orgasm going totally ignored even as he sobs and calls you everything under the sun ranging from his usual pet-names to your title. You ignore him, focussing on keeping your thrusts steady and even.

"Sir," he gasps wetly as his aching cock twitches valiantly. "Sir."

"Yes, puppy?"

His brain is melting out of his ears. Hot tears streak down his flushed cheeks, wetting your shoulder. It's humiliating, being trapped like this on your cock, and he can't help the new ball of arousal swirling low in his belly.

"Too deep..." He lets out a wet whimper as his cock begins to harden again. Oh, stamina. "P-Please – come already..."

"I'm trying pretty hard." You hum, rolling him in your hands like a scientist with their pet project. You sigh as if disappointed. "You're all loose – like a whore."

Choking out a devastated moan, he shuffles on his knees, walls squeezing and swallowing your cock with renewed vigour. "Sir, I'm – 'm not—"

"Please, Satoru. You already admitted to touching yourself while I was away – you couldn't wait just a few weeks for me to come home. If you were good, you would've kept your hands to yourself. You forget who this—" you lift his hips and tap his asshole, making him clench and whine "—belongs to."

Few weeks? Few weeks? Satoru wants to cry. It isn't his fault his love language is physical touch. Going cold turkey for so long was agonising.

"'M sorry," he whispers, eyes squeezing shut as you dance your fingers over his swollen cock. "O-Oh...!"

You huff, shifting on the couch. You hold him up, his delicate hipbones slotted into the V of your thumb and forefinger. "I know you are, but I'll remind you anyway. You belong to me."

You set a punishing pace, fucking up into him and dragging him down to meet your thrusts. His hair bounces and he cries out, arms flexing against the blindfold. His eyes roll back and he moans, open-mouthed, against your neck, broken little half-sobs punched out of his throat.

He can't get a single full word out. Even his cracked, ruined 'fuck, fuck, fuck' is peppered with whines.

Then your hand comes down, hard, on his ass.

His eyes widen. His mouth opens in a silent scream. He comes.

You groan as thin streaks of come splatter your stomach, his cock rutting against you through it. His hips jerk and he starts to sob openly when your pace only quickens, his ass rippling with each thrust. "Fuck, sir," he wails, "y'feel so good...!"

You massage his stinging cheek, whispering sweet nothings in his ear that float him away into a soft cloud of thoughtlessness. It's so easy to give up control to you – so easy to hand himself over. If he has nothing else to give, you will have him.

Even through the fog of pleasure, he remembers how to kiss you. He would know how even if he lost every memory. He moans into it, raspy and wrecked. His toes curl and bliss weighs down his bones as you groan his name and thrust up once, twice, into him, cock throbbing hotly against his soft, gummy walls. Finally, you sink into the couch, holding him close.

He lays there, slumped against you, as you catch your breath together. His eyes flutter shut, the image of your face as you come seared into his mind, and he giggles drunkenly to himself.

You were so good to him even when you were mean.

Gently, you ease his blindfold off his wrists, and he immediately wraps his arms around your shoulders protectively. You're his, and his only. He sits quietly as you clean up to the best of your ability with him on top of you, and he whines softly when you try to set him aside.

"Satoru," you try.

"I'm sore," he retorts, feeling your chest rise and fall with your breaths. His voice is deliciously ragged and raspy. "Fix me."

"No."

"Then I'm staying right here."

"The house will burn down."

"Let it."

Incorrigible. You sigh and lift him just enough to do up your zipper, then lift him in a princess carry and rise to your feet. Satoru purrs and clutches you tighter, rubbing his cheek into your shoulder as you carry him through the house. "Let's find you some new pants, sweetheart."

"M'kay."

"After that, you're on your own," you warn him, stepping sideways through the bedroom door. He uses it as an excuse to tuck his head in the crook of your neck. "I need to check on the soup. I'll call for you when dinner's ready."

"Mm..." He gazes up at you with a sugar-soft look in his eyes. He rubs his hazy eyes as you set him down on the bed to open up his extensive wardrobe. "But I need to set the table..."

"I'll do it. You just take care of clean-up, yeah?"

"Mhm." Satoru tugs the open sides of his button-up shirt closed and fixes the long hem over his milky thighs. He sighs softly, watching you gather his pyjamas with soft blue eyes. "It's really good to have you home, you know. Everything's back to normal."

"Is that right?" Your voice softens and you cross the room, ducking down to Satoru's level. Expectantly, he lifts his face, closing his eyes, and smiles as you brush back his bangs and press your lips to his forehead. "Then you better make sure to spoil me rotten."

He catches your hand before you can pull away. With a teasing, bitten-back grin, he lowers it, and tugs his shirt hem up. He places your hand on his thigh, dragging it higher.

"Like this?" he whispers, coy when he flutters his lashes at you.

Your fingers dig into the soft, sensitive meat of his thigh. He mewls softly, plush pink lips parting.

You tear your hand away, drawing in a sharp breath. "Fuck. Later. Soup first."

Satoru huffs and rolls his eyes, leaning back on his palms when you scramble out the door. "Stupid soup," he mumbles to himself petulantly. "Why would he eat anything else when I'm right here? Stupid noodles. Stupid husband."

A voice breaks through the silence from down the hall. "I heard that!"

"Good!" He collects the clothes you'd picked out for him, smoothing his fingers down the soft cotton patterns. "I ain't a liar!"

He mumbles a radio song under his breath as he tosses away the plain black boxer shorts into the wardrobe. A sly smirk flickers across his features as he pulls out a pair of baby-blue panties from a drawer, placed right at the front and tucked into a neat little square. It's a pretty thing, lacey and soft, and it sits nice and high on him, accentuating his slender hips. They make his legs go on for ages.

He tucks it into his stack of clothes with an innocent hum, and then off he goes, prancing into the bathroom with an extra pep in his step. He doesn't lock the door behind him.

Satoru understands that you enjoy taking care of him, pampering him like a princess even when he pulls your hair and takes your toys. You always will. It's a wonderful thing, to be loved so sweetly; no one else could do it better.

He needs to return the favour, he thinks, glancing at his clothes and the little secret they hide. Nothing feels like it could ever measure up to what you do for him, but he can do this, and it's a start. Perhaps it'll get him closer to being your equal.

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javierpena-inatacvest · 1 year ago

Text

Whatever My Wife Wants

Summary: On your honeymoon, Javi decides to break out a new accessory you've never seen him wear before. Little does he know, that seeing him wear a chain for the first time is about to drive you wild.

Word Count: 4.5K

Pairing: Husband!Javier Peña x Wife!Reader (no use of y/n)

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (do better, but also its your honeymoon so who am I to say), oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, paise kink, literally the biggest, fattest, ugliest breeding kink (I'd say I'm sorry, but I'm not), marriage kink (?) creampie, cum play, kind of exhibitionism (like if you SQUINT), talks of starting a family, Javi LOVES his wife, Javi in a CHAIN, Javi on his honeymoon deserves its own warning, did I mention that Javi LOVES his wife?!

A/N: shoutout to my sweet @honeyedmiller for this request after reblogging this MASTERPIECE from @enstatia. It's supposed to be a painting of Din, but it gave me such big Javi vibes, and I really haven't been the same since picturing the one and only Javier Peña in a chain (bc If i can't unsee it, you shouldn't be allowed to either) 😵‍💫 Also shoutout to Lucien Flores for singlehandedly ruining my life today with that new clip from the Uninvited (but also you can't tell me that this outfit is so Javi on the beach coded PHEW)

Can be read as a standalone or as a part of the Never Too Late Series!

Javi had never been one for jewelry- well, that was until a few days ago when a new golden wedding band had made a home on his hand. Since you had slipped it on his finger, Javi couldn’t get enough of watching it glisten in the warm, tropical sunlight on your honeymoon, a reminder that filled his heart to the brim to know that he was yours forever.

Javi’s new wedding ring was the only jewelry that he had ever pictured himself wearing, until you had mentioned to him in passing while shopping for new clothes for your honeymoon how good he’d look with a chain to go with any of his outfits he had planned for the trip- considering there was no way Javi was going to have no less than 4 buttons undone on his shirt at any given time while basking in the tropical warmth of your honeymoon paradise.

Later on that week, he had dug around in his dresser to find a thin, golden chain necklace he had back from his time in college, that hadn’t seen the light of day in too many years to count. But, given your enthusiasm for the idea of him wearing something like it, Javi had decided to pack it with him in his suitcase to surprise when the time felt right.

Well, after being a few drinks deep at the pool bar from earlier, Javi’s slightly tipsy confidence had him feeling like now was the perfect time to try out his new accessory to see what you thought. Digging through his suitcase, he pulled out out the chain to go with the rest of his outfit for your dinner on the beach, clipping the necklace around his neck as he looked himself over in the mirror, quickly fixing his hair and adjusting his shirt, undoing one more button than probably necessary to show off his new look.

And while he could admit that he didn’t look half bad with it on, and figured you’d like the new surprise addition to his wardrobe, there’d be no way in hell he could have ever prepared himself for the viscerally awestruck reaction you’d have to the thin, gold chain dangling around his neck.

“I can practically feel you burning a hole through my chest, Hermosa.” Javi chuckled, raising an eyebrow at you as he took another bite of his food, giving you a playful smirk at the way you had been ogling at him ever since you had noticed the thin gold chain resting across his tanned skin as you began your walk through the hotel to head to dinner.

“Oh shut up, it’s not my fault you’re so hot. You’re making it very hard not to look, in my defense.” You sighed, trying to get yourself to focus on your food instead of staring at Javi for the rest of dinner, despite the fact that the only meal you had your eyes on was sitting across the table from you. “There’s already something about you being my husband that makes you somehow even hotter than you already were, and now with this?” You picked up your fork, gesturing to the chain dangling between the parted fabric of Javi’s shirt, “I think you may be trying to legitimately kill me.”

“Figured you’d like it. Didn’t think you’d like it this much.” Javi smirked, biting down on his lip before taking another bite of food, his cheeks growing flushed and warm as he looked at you admiring him, wondering how in the hell he had gotten so goddamn lucky. “Thanks, Mrs. Peña.” He laughed, taking another bite of his food, shooting you a quick wink.

Mrs. Peña.

God, if that alone wasn’t enough to send you over the edge already, your new last name, combined with the incredibly attractive man you had gotten it from that you now got to call your husband? On top of that stupidly hot chain he had decided to throw on with his outfit? There was definitely something else you were hungry for other than the half cleared plate below you.

It was then that you couldn’t have been happier you had been seated at a table on the edge of the beachside boardwalk, tucked behind a few stray palm trees, secluded enough out of view that you had no problem reaching under the table to rest your hand on Javi’s knee, toying with the hem of his shorts before letting your fingers creep further and further up his thigh.

“Are you almost done with your food?” You asked, your voice sweet and sultry as your hand brushing against Javi’s crotch immediately caught his attention, making his eyes go wide as he sat up straight, setting down his knife and fork to look down in his lap. “Because if you are, I can think of something else I want for dessert when we go back to our room. Something I want really bad. You wanna feel how badly I want it?”

Javi swallowed hard as your fingers wrapped more firmly around his bulge, gently massaging his dick in your grasp, before grabbing his hand and guiding it to brush along the slit of your sundress and closer to your core, aching and dripping with arousal. Letting his fingers creep up the inside of your thighs and ghost over your folds, his eyes went even wider, jaw practically dropping open to feel that you were not only absolutely soaked, but also not wearing any underwear at all. Using every ounce of composure he had to keep from falling apart right then and there at the dinner table, letting out a deep sigh as he cursed under his breath.

“Jesus fucking Christ. Fuck, baby… Yeah, I can be done right now.” He groaned, nodding at your proposition before wrapping his hand around the meat of your thigh as he took a long inhale, staring you down with darkening eyes and a devilish grin across the table.

Never had you been more thankful that the resort you had picked to stay at was all inclusive, because if either of you had to wait a minute longer for a server to get your bill so you could get back up to your room, the probability of impending implosion would have been practically inevitable.

Firmly intertwining your fingers with his as you grabbed his hand, you were nearly dragging Javi through the hotel to the nearest bay of elevators, pleasantly shocked to find no one else waiting with you to travel up to their room, leaving the two of you alone to catch the next elevator back up to your floor.

Without a word, the second the elevator doors had closed, the two of you were on top of each other, a messy dance of tongue and teeth crashing together, Javi’s hands palming the meat of your ass over your dress while yours roamed over his chest, tracing the freckles of his tanned skin up to the golden chain dangling in the open buttons of his shirt, stopping to wrap the necklace around your finger, tugging Javi closer to you.

“Fuck, you look so good with this on, baby.” You moaned, your words hot against Javi’s skin as you nipped at his neck, chain still tangled in your grasp. “I can’t wait to fu-”

Barely aware of the fact that you had reached your floor, the ding of the elevator was enough to catch your attention and cut you off from completing the rest of your thought before the doors slid open, revealing a group of couples waiting for their ride down to the lobby. Frantically trying to play off the fact that if the elevator ride had gone any longer, you two definitely would have been seconds away from fucking in it, you gulped, giving Javi a nudge to his ribs to bring him back to reality, the two of you quickly trying to slide past the other guests without making a scene.

As the door closed behind you, you and Javi couldn’t help but giggle at the fact that you couldn’t seem to take an elevator trip alone without almost being caught making out like a pair of horny teenagers (which, to be fair, a pair of horny teenagers probably would have had more self control than the two of you being newlyweds on your honeymoon).

With your room only being a few doors down from the elevator, Javi began fumbling in the pocket of his shorts for his room key, working around the full hard on he already had under the fabric from how pent up he was. Quietly cursing under his breath until he found it, as soon as the card was swiping over the lock of the door, Javi was yanking you through into your room, instantly beginning to pull down the zipper to the back of your dress as you fumbled your way back to the bed.

Your dress fell to the floor in a crumpled pile before Javi was tossing you onto the mattress, shocked to see that you also hadn’t even bothered to put on a bra, revealing your glowing skin and obnoxious tanlines from your time spent out in the sun.

“Dirty fucking girl, not wearing anything underneath that dress for me. Fuck me, Hermosa. God, you’re so beautiful. So fucking perfect. My perfect wife.” Javi growled, dropping to his knees at the edge of the bed to part your legs, draping them over his shoulders as he admired the wet mess between your thighs, your slick already coating your folds, glistening in the dim light of your hotel room. “My perfect wife and her perfect fucking pussy already so wet for me.

Dragging his fingers through your folds, collecting your arousal as he ghosted over your throbbing clit, you let out a soft whimper in protest, sitting up on your elbows to look down at Javi, peppering kisses along the soft skin of your thighs.

“Javi, fuck- Baby, I wanted to go down on you. You look so good, I-I wanna taste you, Jav, p-please.” You moaned, your argument becoming less and less convincing as his kisses traveled to your center, nose brushing against your aching bundle of nerves before looking up at you with a lustful smirk, tightening his grip around your hips to hold you in place.

Javi shook his head as he laughed quietly to himself, watching you squirm and buck your hips towards his face, so desperately worked up and aching that the mess between your legs was really beginning to contradict your need to get Javi off before yourself.

“Cariño…” Javi tutted, almost mockingly, digging his fingertips deeper into the meat of your flesh, “You’re not going anywhere ‘till I get a taste. I can’t leave my poor wife all worked up like this, can I?”

Before you had a chance to respond, the flat of Javi’s tongue was dragging through your heat in a long, broad stroke, firmly pressing against your clit, looking up at you with a satisfied grin as you threw your head back in pleasure, a soft whimper escaping from your parted lips. As the last of his lick slid through your folds, you shuttered at the feeling of the metal of his chain ghosting over your cunt as it dangled from his neck, only to cry out as you could feel the other piece of jewelry he was wearing on his left ring finger sink deep into your entrance.

“Oh f-fuck-” You whimpered as another finger breached your tight hole, already sucking him in with your warm, wet walls while his digits curled, bumping against the sweet spot inside you that he knew made you crumble.

“That’s it, baby girl.” He cooed, thrusting his fingers in and out of your cunt before diving back between your legs like a man starved, his tongue dancing in a swirling pattern of flicks and strokes between your folds as he lapped you up. You could feel yourself rolling your hips against his hand, whining at how thick and full he felt inside you, even more so now with the wedding band that had made its permanent home on his finger, taking every chance he could get to watch you cover the glistening gold ring in your arousal as yet another way to prove that you were his.

Javi could feel your pussy beginning to flutter around his fingers as your bottom half squirmed against the sheets of the bed, the knot in your stomach beginning to tighten, tingling building at the base of your spine. Latching his lips around your clit, he began to suck at your sensitive nub, his hand thrusting faster and deeper into your cunt, feeling you slowly coming undone under his touch.

“Oh shit- fuck, fuck, Javi, I’m so close baby, oh fuck, fuck, I’m gonnaaahhhhhh-” Just like that, you were falling over the brink of collapse, your orgasm crashing through you like a tidal wave, pleasure flowing through every inch of your veins as you met your high, feeling the smirk of Javi’s smile pressed against your cunt as you soaked his face, his free hand wrapped around your hip, holding you in place for him.

“Fuck, I swear, I’ll never fucking get over that.” Javi mewled, pulling back enough to sit on his heels, admiring the wet and puffy mess your pussy had become, gently pulling his fingers out of your heat, looking down at the way your arousal coated his fingers, covering his wedding band. “Fucking soaked me, Hermosa. You like feeling my ring when I touch you like that, baby? Knowing I’m all yours forever?”

With your chest heaving in heavy breaths, you nodded frantically, blissed out look plastered across your face as you stared up at Javi, lust pooling in the dark brown of his eyes as he brought his soaked fingers to your mouth, tugging at your bottom lip as, opening your mouth for you to suck him clean, the warm and tangy taste of you still fresh on his skin.

“You taste so fucking sweet, baby. Mi esposa sabes muy dulce.” (My wife tastes so sweet) Javi cooed, gently tugging his fingers out of your mouth, standing up to lean over the bed, caging your body under his as his lips crashed against yours in a needy mess of longing and desperation.

You could feel how painfully hard he was through the fabric of his shorts, his bulge straining against the seams of his zipper as he rubbed against your thigh, laying on top of you with one arm propped up beside your head, the other gently cupping your face, thumb rubbing back and forth along your cheek as he kissed you with the tender intensity that set your insides ablaze with desire, longing, no, needing to feel him buried deep inside you as you screamed his name.

It really had been your intention to suck Javi off the moment you had gotten back to your room, to drop to your knees and worship the beautifully handsome man you now got to call your husband and turn him into the same type of moaning, whimpering mess that he had just made you, but with the ferocity of each kiss and the instinctual jerk of Javi’s hips, there was nothing you wanted more than to be filled by the sweet sting of his cock pounding into you, over and over.

“J-Javi, fuck- I need to feel you baby, please. Fuck, I wanna feel you so deep inside me.” You whispered, your teeth tugging at Javi’s earlobe as he peppered your jaw and neck with kisses, feeling the audible groan in his chest at your request, followed by a deep sigh as he tried to compose himself from the mess he was already becoming.

“Yeah? That’s what you want, sweet girl? Whatever my wife wants, my wife gets.” He rasped, a devilish grin spread between his cheeks as he sat back to pull his shirt over his head, followed by his shorts and boxers, leaving him in nothing but the gold chain still dangling around his neck as he reached down to stroke his cock, red and dripping with precum before leaning back down to line up with your entrance.

You could feel your breath hitch as his tip brushed through your folds, rubbing gently against your clit as he collected your arousal to coat his length, looking down to watch as his length sunk deep into your cunt, the both of you letting out ragged moans at the sensation.

Javi paused for a moment, letting you adjust to the sweet sting of his stretch as he filled you, his tip kissing your cervix while his hips met yours. The fullness made your brain go blank, completely at a loss for words as he began to slowly thrust in and out of you, pulling himself out enough to sink his whole length back into your cunt, each thrust making you whimper and moan, desperate for more.

“F-fuck, give me more, baby, you feel so good.” You whined, your hand wrapping around his bicep, fingertips digging into his flexing muscles.

“Yeah? You want more, Hermosa?” Javi mewled, smirking to himself at the blissed out mess you were already becoming as the pace of his hips rutting into you began to quicken.

As each thrust became faster, the gold chain draped around his neck began to bounce against his chest, his body close enough to yours to feel the cool metal brush against your face with each snap of his hips into yours, the sight of his necklace dangling over you as you stared up at the furrowed and focused look painting his face. The image alone of him wearing that chain was enough to make you feel like you were going to cum on the spot, but as you lay caged beneath the weight of his broad body, feeling nothing but his warm skin and chain rub against you, you were nearly convinced it was going to be over for you right then and there.

Without even thinking, you lifted your head up off the bed just enough to grab the chain between your teeth, tugging him closer to you, the sudden yank making his eyes go wide in surprise as the two of you came nose to nose, foreheads brushing against each other before his lips were on yours again, entangling you in an all consuming kiss without faltering in his pace.

“Fuck, you look so good.” You moaned, your lips parting just enough from his to whisper your praises into his ear. “You look so hot with this fucking chain, Jesus Christ.”

Your comment had a low, breathy laugh escaping from his chest, shaking his head to himself almost in disbelief at how enthralled you were with him.

“Me? Baby girl, you have no idea.” He cooed, slowing his thrusts to sit back on his haunches, readjusting you to bring your knees pressed to your chest, leaning back down, running his hands along your body, up your arms until he had them above your head, pinned down to the bed in his grasp. “You know how many guys I’ve seen staring at you since we’ve been here? How many dirty fucking looks I’ve had to give them? Maybe this ring on your finger isn’t enough, mi amor.”

“W-what do you, fuck- what do mean?” You whimpered, the new position opening you up in a way that had you feeling every inch of Javi as he sank his cock even deeper into your cunt, splitting you open in the most delicious way possible, your brain barely working enough to let your words escape from your mouth.

“I mean,” Javi groaned, tightening his grip to hold you in place, his eyes growing darker with desire with another deep, long thrust into your heat, “That maybe, I need to fuck a baby into, Osita. Fuck a baby into my beautiful fucking wife, and let everyone see that you’re mine with our kid growing inside you.”

Javi’s words sent a shiver down your spine, the thought alone making you whimper- You and Javi both had undeniable cases of baby fever, and now that you were finally married and had agreed that your birth control wasn’t going to be a part of your packing list, the prospect that in 9 months from now, you could have a third member to your family? That was enough to have you close to finishing right then and there.

A gulp traveling down your throat before a long exhale, trying to find the words to respond to his proposition, your voice trembling in an anxious excitement.

“F-fuck- Oh my god, yes. Fuck a baby into me, Javi. Let me, oh shit- let me make you a daddy.”

“Jesus Fucking Christ…” Javi groaned, gritting his teeth, trying his best to maintain his own composure, taking a long exhale before his gaze met yours again, a fierce kind of determination and promise pooling in the deep chocolate brown of his eyes, leaning his body on top of yours, pushing your knees closer to your chest, opening you up to an even deeper angle as his mouth crashed into yours, beginning to pick up his pace once again as his hips snapped into yours. “That’s what you want, Hermosa? Fuck, I’ll give it to you, baby. Oh shit- Whatever my wife wants, my wife gets, remember? You want a baby? Fuck- I’ll fuck myself so deep inside you I’ll fuck a baby into you right now.”

You could feel the all too familiar tingle beginning to build at the base of your spine once again, Javi’s cock pounding perfectly into your g-spot over and over again, the hairs at the base of his length grinding against your throbbing clit, sending you to the brink of collapse with each thrust in and out of your cunt.

“Yes, oh my god- yes, I w-want it so bad. P-please, baby, fuck.” You whined, starting to stumble over your words as you could feel your pussy beginning to flutter around his cock, the coil in your core tightening to the point of nearly snapping.

“Fuck- say it again. Tell me- mierda- tell me how badly you want it.” Javi moaned, his thrusts becoming slopier and more desperate as he could feel himself on the verge of chasing his own high, knowing all too well you were almost hitting yours.

“I want you to fill me up, Javi. Fuck, fuck, fuck- I want it so bad. I want you to knock me up and give me a baby, please, baby, oh my god- please.” You were all but panting at this point, your legs starting to tremble as your cunt clenched tighter and tighter around Javi’s cock, the overwhelming sensation of his fullness, promise of pregnancy, and that damn chain dangling in your face was enough to finally send you over the edge. “Fuck, Javi, fuck, fuckfuckfuck, I’m so close baby, I’m gonna, oh shit- I’m gonna cu-ahhhhhhh.”

Those were the last words you were able to muster before you were screaming out Javi’s name as you came, euphoria and ecstasy radiating through every inch of your body, your orgasm crashing through you with so much intensity you could have sworn you were seeing stars.

Watching you fall apart beneath him, soaking his cock in your arousal as you came had Javi only moments behind you, the rhythm of his hips beginning to stutter, the lewd sounds of your skin slapping against each others combined with your wanton moans and whimpers and curses under your breath making him begin to babble incoherently.

“That’s it, Osita. That’s my good girl. Fucking soak my cock, baby. Cum all over me before I, fuck me- fuck myself so deep in you it’ll fucking take. Holy fuck- Fuck, I’m gonna cum too. Gonna fucking fill you up. Give you all of me. Fuck, I’ll give you everyting, baby, mierda- everything you’ll ever wa-ahhhhhh”

With one last final thrust, Javi was spilling deep inside you, warm ropes of his spend coating your walls, milking himself of every single last drop before collapsing on top of you, the warmth and weight and of his body sinking on top of your chest as the two you sighed in sync, trying to catch your breath with long, labored huffs.

As Javi felt himself begin to soften, a groan rumbled low in his chest while he pulled out, feeling the mix of your spend dripping out your hole, coating the inside of your thighs in glistening juices. You let out an involuntary whimper at the loss of fullness inside you, your head falling back on the mattress in blissed out satisfaction, squeezing your eyes shut, trying to bring yourself back to reality after floating away in post-colotial bliss.

“Holy fuck…” You whispered to yourself, lifting your head back up to see Javi sitting back on his heels, admiring the mess of the two of you pooling between your legs.

“So fucking pretty, Hermosa.” He mewled, peppering kisses down the soft skin of your thighs, making his way back towards your core. Before you could even realize what was happening, Javi’s head was back between your legs, one broad stroke of his tongue collecting the tangy, salty mixture leaking out of your cunt and lapping it back into your entrance quickly replacing his mouth with his fingers to push the mixture of your spend even further into you.

Looking up at you, slick covering his mustache and smug grin spread between his cheeks, Javi curled his fingers just enough to make you yelp as he pressed against your g-spot, considering how worked up and overstimulated you already were.

“Gotta make sure I keep you full of me, baby. Can’t let anything go to waste.” Javi smirked, gently pulling out his fingers, resting his hands on your thighs, drawing soft circles on your skin with his thumbs.

You tried to sit back up, propping yourself on your elbows before Javi’s body was caging over you once again, slowly lowering himself down until your back was flat against the bed, cradling your jaw as guided you down with soft, slow kisses, feeling his chain brush against your chin he pulled away from your lips.

“You’re not going anywhere, Momma. My wife wants a baby? Then I’m doing everything I can to give her one. Whatever she wants.” Javi smirked, pressing a tender kiss onto your forehead as his hand caressed your face, brushing your skin just gently enough to tickle you, a little giggle escaping from your lips as your eyes met his sweet puppy dog ones.

“You’re ridiculous, you menace.” You laughed, playfully nudging Javi as he rolled over next to you on the side of the bed, wrapping his arm around you, tugging you to lay against his bare chest, your hand draping over his stomach before crawling up his chest, wrapping his gold chain around your fingers. “Hmmmm whatever your wife wants, huh?” You smirked, looking up at him with a mischievous grin.

“Whatever she wants, Hermosa.”

“Your wife wants you to never take this damn thing off again.”

Taglist:

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hhaechansmoless · 25 days ago

Text

Six Strings, Zero Clues

pairing: mark lee x reader

trope: strangers to lovers, uni au

description: Mark Lee thinks he’s the next big indie artist. You think he’s the reason you have eye bags. After weeks of listening to his 2 AM guitar sessions through your ceiling, you finally snap and put up a very direct complaint on the bulletin board. He, of course, does not take the hint. Now you have to march up there and personally make him stop—except it turns out Mark might actually be kind of… cute? Annoying, but cute. Part of the Notice Me (literally) series!

warnings: food mentioned, language, second hand embarassment? slander too I suppose

w/c: 7.1k

a/n: phew its here and um this was supposed to be some silly little thing for all the dreamies djsdk (by the time this is up the masterlist for the series will also be out but try to guess who's who!! i've left a few hints hehe) also i dont play the guitar but if a mark swoops in offering to teach me i will not say no. taglist

The printer whirs, spitting out the paper, and you snatch it up before it even lands in the tray.

“Okay, but have you considered not escalating this?” Giselle asks, sprawled across the common room couch, half-watching you and half-scrolling through her phone.

You don’t bother with a response. Instead, you dig through the mess of random supplies on the bookshelf, hunting for tape.

“Like,” she continues, “what if he’s going through something? What if this is his only coping mechanism? Are you really gonna be the villain in some dude’s healing arc?”

You pause just long enough to glare at her. “Bold of you to assume I’m not the one going through something.”

Giselle hums, tilting her head in consideration. “I mean. Fair.”

You find the tape—buried under a pack of sketch pens—and tear off a piece with your teeth. Giselle doesn’t even blink. You’ve clearly been driven past the point of rational behavior.

The common room is nearly empty at this hour. The vending machine hums in the corner, a lone microwave beeps from the communal kitchen, and some guy is asleep at one of the tables, his face smushed into an open textbook. Outside, the campus is quiet, bathed in the dull orange glow of streetlights.

And above all that—above you—the same godforsaken sound drifts through the ceiling. A soft, melancholic strumming, like the soundtrack of a coming-of-age movie that just won’t end.

You slap the notice onto the bulletin board and smooth the tape with your palm. Giselle huffs as she gets up from the couch to read the piece of paper you’ve put up. NOTICE: TO INDIE GUITAR GUY Some of us just crawled out of finals week held together by caffeine and regret, and the only thing we want to hear at 2 AM is nothing. But instead, every night without fail, you’re out here strumming away like we’re all living in some coming-of-age movie where you’re the main character.

Newsflash: we’re not. This is a dorm, not some group therapy tent at a shitty music festival, and I promise you, no one is having a life-changing moment listening to your sad indie ballads through these paper-thin walls. I don’t know what heartbreak you’re working through, but please—either take it somewhere else, invest in some headphones, or play at a reasonable hour like a normal human being.

If not, I will personally start hunting you down to cut your guitar strings. Try me, asshole.

“You do realize you could just go up there and knock, right?”

You cross your arms. “And then what? Have a conversation?”

“That is generally how human interaction works, yes.”

You shake your head. “No. If I knock, I have to be nice. And if I’m nice, I can’t say everything I want to say. This is a better solution.”

Giselle gestures toward the board. “Your better solution is an unhinged public rant?”

“Yes.”

She squints at the paper, then snorts. “You threatened to cut his guitar strings.”

“Because if I get my hands on them, I will.” You shove a thumbtack through the top of the page for extra measure, pinning it onto the board with a little more force than necessary. The other notices tremble in protest—flyers for dorm cleaning (which you think would definitely be a scam), someone looking for a new roommate, and a very questionable ad for adopting a cat together.

You furrow your eyebrows at the last one. Whoever put that up actually lacks brain power because pets aren’t allowed in the building and the RA can easily see what’s on this board.

You turn away from the bulletin board, brushing your hands together like you’ve just solved a great moral dilemma. “Okay,” you say, “I’m going to bed.”

Giselle barely glances up from her phone. “Good luck with that.”

You ignore her and make your way toward the hallway, already fantasizing about the blissful, uninterrupted sleep that will hopefully be in your future. Maybe you were a little dramatic, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

And if Indie Guitar Guy has even an ounce of common sense, he’ll take the hint.

The placebo effect is when your brain tricks your body into thinking something is working, even when it isn’t. Like when people take sugar pills in medical trials and somehow start feeling better just because they believe they got real medicine. It’s mind over matter, proof that sometimes, the illusion of change is just as powerful as change itself.

And right now, you’re pretty sure you’re experiencing it firsthand.

For the next two days, you sleep like a rock.

The thought of guitar guy reading your notice, and finally stopping his antics makes all your post-exam exhausted brain latch onto the idea like it’s a lifeline. It doesn’t matter how it worked—whether it was shame, guilt, or a sudden revelation that 2 AM concerts aren’t a personality trait. What matters is that it’s quiet. No more strumming drifting through the walls, no more tossing and turning while waiting for him to get tired.

You wake up feeling victorious.

For the first time in weeks, you don’t have to drag yourself out of bed like an extra in a zombie movie. Your coffee tastes better, the air smells cleaner, and even your 8 AM lecture seems bearable. Giselle eyes you over her cereal as you practically float around the dorm, humming to yourself.

“Wow,” she says, shoveling another spoonful into her mouth. “I almost forgot what you’re like when you’re not being slowly driven to insanity.”

“You see?” You gesture at yourself. “This is what happens when people respect community living.”

By the third night, you almost forget he ever existed.

But of course, you were being delusional. Stupid, even. Because this dorm not only houses you and your friends, but also stupid boys who would probably not give a flying fuck about notices like the one you put up.

You rub your eyes vigorously, trying to scrub away the sleepiness. It’s past midnight and you should be cruising through your REM cycles right now. Instead, you listen to the strumming of a guitar somewhere above you.

And because the universe is cruel like that, you actually recognize the damn song.

Why would anyone sane play Mariposa by the Peach Tree Rascals at fucking 1 in the morning? You curse internally before groaning, rolling onto your stomach and shoving your face into your pillow, as if that’s going to block out the sound. It doesn’t. If anything, the acoustics of the dorm—cursed, absolutely cursed—only amplify the soft, lazy strumming. He’s not even playing the full song, just absentmindedly plucking out the chords, like some guy in a movie sitting by a campfire, contemplating life or whatever.

For a brief second, you think, Okay, fine. It sounds kind of nice.

And then you remember that it’s past midnight.

Sitting up abruptly, you push your covers off, jumping off your bed with a newfound motivation. What kind of asshole sees that big notice that you put up and still doesn’t have the decency to stop?

When Giselle hears you shuffling around, she looks up from her econ textbook, shaking her head with a sigh. “You’re going to feel bad when this guy turns out to be, like, the sweetest person ever.”

You scoff, yanking a hoodie over your head. “I’ll take my chances.”

Giselle closes her book and watches you with something between amusement and resignation. “What are you even gonna say?”

You shove your feet into a pair of slides. “I don’t know. Something about common courtesy and how not everyone wants to listen to his fuckass music?”

She snorts. “You’ve already committed to the villain role, huh?”

You jab a finger in her direction. “No. I’m the protagonist. He’s the inconsiderate side character messing up my storyline.”

Giselle slumps into her desk, her voice coming out muffled. “Again, you’re going to feel so bad when this dude is actually, like, a golden retriever in human form.”

You ignore her, grabbing your phone and stomping toward the door. “I highly doubt that.”

And with that, you march out of your room, slamming the door behind and scaring the scrawny but tall kid who lives in the dorm next to yours. His clothes and the corridor smell vaguely of something burnt, but you don’t think too much of it, fully prepared to give Indie Guitar Guy a piece of your mind.

The walk to his room isn’t long, but it gives you just enough time to fully work yourself up. Your footsteps are firm, your hoodie sleeves bunched around your fists like you’re ready to throw hands if necessary. Every tired, miserable night flashes before your eyes.

You knock once. The chords still continue to be played. You knock again. No reaction.

Your eye twitches as you knock again—hard, promising that this is the last and you’ll break his door the next time if you have to.

The strumming stops. There’s a beat of silence, then the sound of soft shuffling. You hear the doorknob turn and then the door swings open and the entire speech you’d prepared dies in your throat.

He’s cute.

And not in the way you were expecting (not that you were, but still). He stands there, slightly disheveled, hair messy like he’s been running his hands through it, an old hoodie hanging loose on his frame. His guitar pick is still caught between his fingers, and his eyes—dark, warm, blinking at you in confusion—look way too soft for someone who’s been torturing you for weeks.

You forget, briefly, what you came here to do.

Then he scratches the back of his neck, looking at you in confusion. “Hey… Can I help you?”

To your absolute horror, instead of going off on him, the only thing that escapes your mouth is, “Um.”

UM?

What happened to excuse me, asshole, do you have no shame? Where the hell did that go?

He looks at you expectantly, still waiting for you to continue.

You swallow hard, mentally scrambling to put yourself back together. “So… I don’t know if you saw, but I put up a notice on the bulletin board?”

He blinks. “What notice?”

You hate how your stomach flips at the way his brows pinch slightly, confused but genuinely curious, like he actually wants to know.

You clear your throat. “Just—about the, uh. The guitar.” You gesture vaguely, as if that explains anything. “At night.”

“Oh.” It comes out almost sheepishly as he looks down at the pick he was flipping in between his fingers, like he’s only now realizing.

You should push. Tell him off right now, stand your ground and speak your mind. But all you manage is to say—

“It’s just, um… really late, y’know?”

Oh my God.

What is this? A customer service complaint? Where is the wrath, and the all-caps shouting you promised yourself on the way up here?

He blinks at you again. Then, slowly, his lips part in realization.

“…Wait,” he says, eyes widening. “Am I the asshole from the notice?”

You stand there, every inch of your body fighting to scream YES. YES, YOU DUMB, SILLY, PRETTY BOY.

“...I mean—I wouldn’t say asshole?” You grimace.

You did. In fact, you didn’t just say it—you typed it out, printed it AND posted it in the common room’s bulletin board. Why didn’t you just scream it out of the windows while you were at it?

“Oh, shit.” He scratches his forehead, “That was you?”

Your mouth opens. Closes. Opens again. “I—uh.”

He watches you for a second before exhaling. “Oh, man. I’m really sorry about that,” he says, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “I swear, I didn’t see the notice until earlier tonight.”

You should still be annoyed. Should. But the way he says it—so earnestly, with his brows slightly furrowed—makes you forget.

“I thought it was just some general complaint,” he continues, glancing down before hesitantly meeting your eyes again. “Didn’t realize I was the ‘asshole.’”

You feel heat creep up your neck. “Okay, but, like, not seriously—”

His lips twitch, like he’s fighting a smile. “Right. Totally.”

Your face burns.

Guitar guy must sense your embarrassment because he quickly clears his throat, straightening up. “Anyway,” he says, voice a little softer, “I really didn’t mean to keep you up. I just—I play when I can’t sleep.” He scratches his forehead, looking almost bashful. “Didn’t think it was carrying through the walls that much.”

Before you can mumble out something incoherent or non-sensible again, he continues.

“No, yeah. You’re right. I’ll stop.” Then, almost shyly, he glances back at you. “I, uh… I don’t think we’ve met before?”

You blink, caught off guard.

“I’m Mark,” he says, smiling a little. “Since, y’know. You technically already know way too much about my sleep schedule.”

You let out a breathy laugh, more surprised than anything. You hadn’t expected him to be this nice. Or this—

Well. This.

“I guess that’s fair,” you mumble, suddenly feeling a little stupid standing here in your sleep shorts and oversized hoodie.

Mark’s smile lingers. Then, with a little hesitation, he nods toward you. “So, uh. Do I get to know your name, or?”

You hesitate for half a second—because this is not how this was supposed to go, and he is not supposed to be this sweet—but eventually, you sigh, giving him your name.

Mark nods, a small grin on his lips, “Cool, well. I’m really sorry. I’ll stop now, so you can go sleep!”

Maybe it’s because he said he couldn’t sleep, or maybe it’s because you think that in your notice it may have seemed like he’d a bad player (he’s not), or maybe it’s just because your sleepy brain finds him cute that you pipe up, just before you leave.

“I’m sorry if I came off as really rude. It’d just been a hard week.” You sigh, a little hesitant, “And you don’t have to stop playing… I mean—at this time, please don’t. But I wouldn’t mind listening to you some other time.”

Mark blinks, clearly caught off guard. “Oh—uh—really?”

You nod, suddenly feeling shy under his gaze. “Yeah. You’re… not bad.”

His ears turn a little pink. “Oh. Thanks.” He scratches his neck, smiling softly. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

There’s a pause.

Then, before you can process it, Mark lifts a hand, pointing his fingers toward you like a finger gun. “Sleep well, neighbor.”

Oh my God.

You shake your head, biting back a smile. “Goodnight, Mark.”

And with that, you turn away, fully aware that you’ve just lost the battle. God, Giselle is never going to let you live this down once you tell her.

The next morning, you groan as you shuffle out of bed, running on autopilot as you grab your mug and head to the common room, your only goal in life being to reach the sad, overworked coffee machine.

The moment you step in, the sharp smell of burnt coffee greets you—bitter, slightly tragic, but necessary. You yawn, rubbing your eyes as you press the button on the machine, waiting for it to sputter out something drinkable.

“You actually slept last night, right?”

The voice makes you blink. You turn, and standing next to you, looking way too put together for this hour, is Mark Lee.

Oh.

You fight every urge to react. He’s in a hoodie, hair slightly mussed like he just rolled out of bed, his hands shoved into his pockets. He’s looking at you, head tilted slightly, waiting for an answer.

“Uh.” You blink again, processing. “Yeah?”

Mark lets out a tiny breath of relief. “Good,” he says, nodding. “I, uh… I stopped playing. Like I said I would.”

Oh, he’s shy.

Somehow, this is worse. You were prepared for maybe an awkward nod or a "what’s up?". Not this gentle, earnest follow-up on whether you got enough sleep.

“Yeah.” You swallow. “I noticed. Thanks”

Mark nods again, rocking back on his heels. He’s quiet for a second, then gestures toward the coffee machine. “You, uh… do this every morning?”

You shrug. “Unfortunately.”

He lets out a small laugh, and for some reason, you feel stupidly warm.

“There you are.”

You both turn as Giselle enters the room, hair still a little messy from sleep, her own mug in hand. She barely glances at you before heading straight for the coffee machine, too preoccupied to notice the tension in the air.

When she’s finally done shoving your mug out of the way and filling her’s first, she looks up at the two of you.

“Who’s this?” Giselle asks you, voice loud enough for Mark to hear.

You’re about to reply when Mark steps forward instead, holding his hand out for her to shake. She stares at it for a second.

“I’m Mark. Um… the annoying guitar guy.”

“Oh!” Giselle exclaims, a smile making way onto her lips as she shakes his hand. “Good to meet you. Damn, did she yell your ears off yesterday? I tried to stop her, I swear.”

Mark laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. “Nah, it was fair. I didn’t even realize how loud I was.”

Giselle smirks, nudging you with her elbow. “See? Not everyone’s out to get you.”

You roll your eyes, choosing to ignore her as you finally bring your coffee to your lips. The second the burnt liquid hits your tongue, you wince. “God, this is awful.”

Mark watches, slightly amused. “Yeah, it smells kinda brutal.”

You sigh. “It’s usually bearable. Can’t function without it.”

“You ever try the café across campus?” Mark asks. “Way better than whatever this is.”

You shake your head. “Too much effort. This is closer.”

Giselle hums, sipping her own coffee. “She’s lazy,” she supplies helpfully.

You glare at her, but Mark just chuckles, rocking back on his heels. “Well, if you ever decide to make the trek, let me know. I’ll come with.”

You nod absently, still focused on your coffee. “Mm, noted.”

Mark hesitates for half a second, like he’s waiting for something, but when you don’t react, he clears his throat. “Alright, I’ll catch you later.”

“Later,” you mumble into your mug, already preparing for the day ahead.

As soon as he’s gone, Giselle turns to you, staring.

You blink. “What?”

Her lips curl into a slow smirk. “Oh my God.”

You narrow your eyes. “What?”

She snorts. “Nothing. You’re just an idiot.”

You scowl. “Great. Love to hear that first thing in the morning.”

Giselle just shakes her head, looking far too entertained as she takes another sip of coffee. “No, no. This is fun. Let’s see how long it takes.”

“See how long what takes?”

But she just grins. “Nothing. I’m going to shower first.”

The library is quiet, save for the occasional sound of pages flipping and hushed whispers between students. You’re not here by choice. You’d have preferred to sit in the common room, a little more comfortably, but the heated discussion over banning glitter for the upcoming door deco competition isn’t something that you’d sit through either.

So now, you’re here, settled at a table near the corner, your laptop open, coffee beside you. You don’t even realize someone is sitting a few seats away until you stretch, glance up—

And Mark Lee is looking right at you.

Oh.

Your brain stalls for half a second before you lift a hand in a casual wave.

Mark grins, like he was waiting for you to notice, and—without hesitation—grabs his stuff and moves over.

"Hey," he says, plopping down across from you.

You blink at him. "Hey?"

He gestures vaguely. "Thought I’d say hi."

You squint. "Didn’t look like you were studying."

Mark laughs, rubbing his jaw. "Yeah, well… he’s having roommate trouble right now, and I’m a great listener."

It takes you a second to register that he’s talking about the guy still sitting at his old table. When you glance over, you realize—oh. Renjun.

You nod as you glance back at your laptop. You vaguely remember seeing the notice that he needed a roommate, but it’d probably been taken down a few days ago.

“Has he not found one yet?”

“Worse. He forgot to mention that he’d only room with guys,” Mark sighs, glancing at him before shaking his head, “And now he’s living with a girl that he’s definitely starting to like.”

You almost laugh out of disbelief. “Is co-ed rooming even allowed?”

“Nope,” Mark pops the p. “But he’s a fucking goody-two-shoes and the RAs love him, so honestly, even if they find out, they’ll give him a good notice period for either to move out.”

“I can hear you two.” Renjun hisses, before shrinking a little as he looks around, hoping no one was bothered.

You clear your throat. “So, what, are you just here for moral support?”

Mark grins. “Kind of. I keep them sane.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “Right. Naturally.”

He leans in slightly, chin resting on his palm. “But, you know, the library’s not so bad.”

You shoot him a skeptical look. “Didn’t take you for the type to hang out here for fun.”

Mark shrugs, the corners of his lips quirking up. “Maybe I’m turning over a new leaf. Becoming a dedicated academic weapon.”

You exhale. “Right. And I’m the dean of the university.”

He gasps. “Wow. No faith in me at all? For all you know, I could be topping my classes.”

You hum, unconvinced.

Mark watches you for a second, then leans in just a fraction closer, voice lowering slightly. “Guess I’ll have to prove you wrong then.”

You blink at him, caught off guard, but before you can say anything, Renjun finally looks up from his laptop, fixing Mark with a withering stare.

“Can you prove it somewhere else?” he mutters. “Some of us are actually trying to study.”

Mark grins, completely unbothered. “See? Told you he’s suffering.”

You’re halfway through filling your water bottle when you hear a loud clatter followed by an equally loud “Shit!”

You whip around just in time to see Mark Lee standing in the dorm kitchen, staring at the floor like it personally betrayed him. A broken instant ramen cup lays at his feet, noodles spilled across the tiles in a sad, soupy mess.

“…Do I even want to know?” you ask.

Mark looks up, startled. He must not have noticed you walk in. His hood is halfway up his head, and his sweatpants are hanging loose at his hips, like he just rolled out of bed to grab food.

“I—” He rubs the back of his neck. “I thought I could grab it before it hit the counter.”

You raise an eyebrow, stepping closer to assess the damage. “And?”

He sighs. “And I could not.”

You try to hold back your laugh, but it slips out anyway. Mark groans, crouching down to clean up the mess, and you, feeling slightly bad for him, grab some napkins to help.

“Appreciate it,” he mutters as you both start wiping up the broth.

“No problem. Midnight disasters seem to be a running theme in this dorm,” you joke.

Mark huffs a small laugh. “Tell me about it. Last week, Jisung nearly set the toaster on fire.”

You pause, still crouched down. “Is that the kid that lives next door to me? I swear that the night I came and complained—” You shoot a slightly guilty look at him. “—to you, he smelled like burnt stuff.”

“Probably,” Mark shakes his head, “I mean, I’m not the best person to teach him how to cook, but he’s got a few friends. The kid’s just too stubborn and a little bit of an airhead to ask for help.”

The two of you continue cleaning in comfortable silence for a moment before you stand to toss the napkins in the trash. When you turn back, Mark is still crouched on the floor, gathering the last of the noodles into a pile. His hood has slipped back slightly, revealing the messy strands of his hair, and his sleeves are pushed up just enough to show his forearms.

Not that you’re looking.

Mark groans as he tosses the ruined noodles into the trash. “Man, this sucks. I was really looking forward to eating that.”

“You could just make another one?”

He hesitates, then sighs. “That was my last cup.”

You frown. “That was your only food?”

Mark scratches the back of his head, avoiding your gaze. “…Maybe.”

You stare at him. “Mark.”

“I meant to get groceries,” he mutters. “I just forgot.”

“For how long?”

“…A while.”

You let out a long sigh before turning toward the fridge. “Alright, come on.”

Mark blinks. “Huh?”

“You’re not starving on my watch,” you say, pulling out a container. “I made extra earlier.”

His eyes widen slightly. “Wait—really?”

“Don’t make it weird.” You shove the container into his hands before you can think twice.

Mark stares at it for a second before looking back up at you, a small smile tugging at his lips. “You’re kind of nice, huh?”

You scoff, crossing your arms. “Don’t spread that around.”

He hums as he pops open the lid. “Guess I owe you one now.”

“Damn right you do.”

Mark laughs, leaning against the counter. “You know, if you ever wanna cash that in, we could go grab real food sometime.”

You snort. “Yeah, sure. In exchange for a half-eaten bowl of ramen.”

He grins, scooping up a bite. “Deal.”

You shake your head, grabbing your water bottle before heading back to your room.

You twist the cap back onto your water bottle just as Giselle walks in, kicking off her shoes with a sigh. She doesn’t even look at you before flopping face-first onto her bed.

“I give up,” she mumbles into her pillow.

You glance at the clock. “On what? Life?”

“Basically.” She groans, turning her head just enough so her voice is no longer muffled. “I ran into my ex on the way back. He saw me trip on the dorm steps. I don’t think I can recover from this.”

You snort. “You literally dumped him. Why are you embarrassed?”

She lifts a hand in the air, shoving her middle finger at you. “I have my reasons.”

Shaking your head, you take another sip of water. “You could always poison his meal plan or something.”

“Maybe.” She turns onto her side, finally looking at you. “What about you? You were out late.”

You shrug. “Just went to get water.”

She narrows her eyes slightly. “And?”

“…And Mark was there.”

That gets her attention. She sits up properly now, leaning forward. “Oh?”

You frown. “What?”

She tilts her head at you. “Nothing. Just…interesting.”

You roll your eyes. “He spilled his ramen. I helped clean it up.”

“Uh-huh.”

“That’s it.”

“Uh-huh.”

You sigh, climbing into bed. “What?”

“Nothing.” She flops back, pulling her blanket over her legs. “You just seem to run into him a lot.”

You pause for a second. “He lives upstairs.”

“Mhm.”

You throw your pillow at her before slumping into your bed as well, switching your lamp off with a sigh.

It’s not weird.

Mark lives upstairs. You’ve only run into him a couple of times. Completely normal, considering the dorm isn’t that big. Still, as you stare at the faint outline of your ceiling in the dark, you think back to the way he laughed, how he leaned against the counter, how his eyes crinkle when he smiles.

He’s cute. That’s just a fact. In an endearingly clueless way, with his messy hair and his habit of rubbing the back of his neck when he talks. Objectively cute. Universally acknowledged cute. Annoyingly cute, even.

But it’s not like that. Obviously.

You roll onto your side, pulling your blanket tighter around you.

Just a coincidence.

You close your eyes, willing yourself to sleep, but for some reason, you can still hear his voice in your head. The soft laugh, the way he said we could grab real food sometime. The casualness of it.

Not an invitation. Not really. Right?

You huff, pressing your face into your pillow.

Whatever. You’ll probably forget about it by morning.

You hear the music before you see him.

The common room isn’t empty, but it’s quieter than usual—just the occasional shuffle of someone flipping through a textbook, the distant hum of the vending machine. And then there’s him.

Mark is curled up on the couch, one leg tucked under him, guitar resting easily against his chest. He’s not playing anything loud—just soft, absentminded strumming, like he’s working through a song in his head.

And you should keep walking. You really, really should.

But instead, you hesitate, shifting from one foot to the other just enough that the floor creaks under you. Mark glances up at the sound, fingers faltering slightly over the strings.

“Oh,” he says, blinking like he wasn’t expecting company. “Hey.”

“Hey,” you say back, already regretting this.

His lips twitch, like he’s holding back a smile. “You look like you were about to turn around.”

You scoff, stepping fully into the room. “I was just—” You pause. What were you doing?

Mark tilts his head, waiting.

“I needed a break,” you sigh.

He nods, adjusting the guitar in his lap. “Good timing.”

He doesn’t elaborate, just keeps playing, and maybe that’s your cue to leave—but your feet carry you toward the couch anyway. You sit down—not next to him, but close enough to see the way his fingers move over the strings.

You watch for a second, then glance at his face. “You play in the daytime now?”

Mark exhales a quiet laugh. “Only because I’ve been feeling considerate towards a certain someone.”

You’re sure that there’s colour rising to your cheeks now, but you try to mask it off by laughing. “Wow. Growth.”

He shakes his head, letting out a soft hum under his breath, but he doesn’t deny it.

For a while, there’s no talking—just the sound of the guitar, the occasional scrape of his pick against the strings. You don’t realize how much time has passed until you catch yourself fully zoning out, elbows resting on your knees, watching his hands like an idiot.

Mark notices.

He doesn’t call you out for it, but his fingers slow slightly, like he’s suddenly aware of the attention.

You snap out of it immediately, shifting your gaze. Nope. Absolutely not.

Mark clears his throat, tapping his thumb against the body of the guitar. “You play?”

“What?”

“The guitar,” he says, nodding toward it. “You don’t play, do you?”

“Oh.” You shake your head. “No.”

Mark hums, considering. “Do you want to?”

You blink. “What?”

He shrugs, adjusting his grip. “I could teach you something. If you want.”

You hesitate. You could say no. You should say no.

But Mark is already tilting the guitar toward you, his brows raised in a quiet ‘well?’

And against all logic and reason, you reach for it. The guitar is heavier than you expected.

You fumble with it, your fingers slipping against the strings as you try to mimic the way Mark holds it. It feels unnatural, like trying to write with your non-dominant hand.

“Here,” Mark says, shifting closer on the couch. His knee brushes against yours, and you stiffen slightly, but he doesn’t seem to notice. Or if he does, he doesn’t care. He reaches over, adjusting your grip. “You’re holding it like it’s gonna bite you.”

“Maybe it will,” you mutter.

Mark laughs, low and warm, and you try not to focus on how close he is. His fingers guide yours to the fretboard, pressing down on the strings. “This one’s the B,” he says, plucking it. A soft, clear note rings out.

You frown. “Sounds like every other string.”

“Wow.” He feigns offense, clutching his chest. “And here I thought you had an ear for music.”

“I have an ear for silence at 2 in the morning,” you deadpan.

Mark grins, “Fair.” He leans back slightly, but his knee stays pressed against yours. “Okay, try pressing here.” He taps a spot on the neck.

You attempt it, but the string vibrates pathetically under your finger.

“You’ve gotta press harder,” he says.

“I am pressing hard.”

Mark hums, skeptical. Then, before you can react, he reaches over and presses his finger on top of yours, adding pressure. “Like this.”

Your brain short-circuits.

His hand is warm. His fingers are calloused from playing. And he’s so close you can smell his stupid laundry detergent—the one that everyone else in this dorm uses.

You swallow. “...Right.”

Mark doesn’t move his hand. “You got it?”

"Yep." Your voice cracks slightly.

"Sure?" His thumb brushes against yours as he adjusts your positioning - just for a second, but it's enough to make your pulse jump.

"Positive." You stare very hard at the guitar's soundhole.

Mark finally pulls back, rubbing the back of his neck. The tips of his ears are pink. "So, uh. That's... the basics."

You strum all the strings at once. It sounds like a trash can falling down stairs. "I'm a prodigy."

Mark snorts. "Yeah. Next Ed Sheeran right here." He fiddles with his pick. "We could... keep practicing sometime. If you want.” You shrug. "I mean, I guess I owe you for not murdering me over that notice."

"I wouldn't say no to, like. Coffee instead." He says it too fast, then backtracks. "I mean—not like—just caffeine helps with—"

"Mark."

"Yeah?"

"You're rambling."

His shoulders hunch. "Right. Sorry."

You hand the guitar back. "But yeah, coffee's fine. The dining hall swill is killing me anyway."

Mark brightens instantly. "Remember that place across campus? Their cold brew is actually decent and they've got these chocolate croissants that—" He cuts himself off, clearing his throat. "I mean. If you're into that."

"Cold brew gives me heart palpitations." "Oh." His face falls. "We could find somewhere else—”

"But I'd commit crimes for a good chocolate croissant," you add.

Mark's smile returns, slow and warm. "Tomorrow? I'm free after two."

"Sure." You stand up, completely missing the way his fingers tap an anxious rhythm against the guitar body. "Don't be late."

"I won't!" It comes out too eager. He cringes at himself. "I mean. Yeah. Cool."

As you walk away, you don't see him slump back against the couch, dragging a hand down his face. You definitely don't hear the quiet, frustrated whisper of: "Smooth, Lee. Real smooth."

You're lacing up your sneakers when Giselle walks out of the bathroom, rubbing her damp hair with a towel. She pauses mid-step when she sees you.

"Where are you going?"

"Getting coffee with Mark." You tighten the knot on your shoe.

She stares. Then, very deliberately, looks you up and down.

You're in a hoodie (a slightly wrinkled one), sweatpants, and the same sneakers you've been wearing for three years.

"...Dressed like that?"

You frown. "What?"

She gestures vaguely at your entire existence. "You're just going out like that?"

You scoff. "Dude. We’re just hanging out."

Giselle presses her lips together like she’s trying very, very hard not to lose her mind.

It’s quiet. Too quiet.

You glance up. She's watching you in the mirror, towel slung over one shoulder, eyes sharp.

You narrow your eyes. "What."

She exhales sharply. "Okay, tell me this: how many times has Mark asked you to ‘hang out’?"

You shrug. "I dunno. A few times? Haven’t really been able to go."

"And these ‘hangouts’—" she makes little air quotes, "—were they things like, ‘Hey, wanna grab food?’ or ‘Hey, wanna get coffee?’ Or, oh, I don’t know, ‘Hey, wanna come sit really close to me while I teach you how to play guitar?’"

Your mouth opens. Closes.

Because, yeah. That is... exactly how it’s been.

Giselle sees the realization hit. "Oh my God," she says, dragging a hand down her face. "He’s been asking you out this entire time!"

You blink. "What? No. He hasn’t—he’s just been nice."

Giselle shoots you a deadpan look. "Nice?"

"Yeah!" You wave a hand. "Some people just—invite other people to do stuff! It’s normal!"

Giselle rubs her temples. "Okay. Let’s say, for a second, that I believe you. Do you think Mark has asked anyone else to ‘just hang out’ like this?"

You open your mouth. Pause.

Giselle’s smile is way too smug. "Mhm. Exactly."

You shift uncomfortably. "Okay, but—but what if you're wrong? What if this is just his personality?"

Giselle flops dramatically onto her bed. "Then I will personally apologize to you for enabling your delusions." She waves you off. "Now go. And if he confesses, don't let your dumbass panic and run into traffic."

You scowl. "That happened one time."

Giselle is already onto her dressing table, raking through her makeup brushes.

You check the time. Mark’s already waiting.

Your stomach flips.

You swallow. "I'm gonna go."

"Yeah," Giselle sighs, rolling onto her side. "Go figure your shit out."

—

You’re definitely overthinking this as the two of you walk around campus.

Mark walks beside you, hands tucked into his jacket pockets, shoulders relaxed. He kicks a stray pebble down the sidewalk, eyes mostly on the ground. Meanwhile, you are internally spiraling.

Because Giselle’s words won’t leave you alone.

"He’s been asking you out this whole time."

And the more you think about it, the more obvious it feels.

The coffee. The late-night talks. The stupid guitar lesson where his hand had covered yours, warm and steady.

You sneak a glance at him. He looks normal. Maybe a little cold, but not like someone who’s been trying to ask you out for weeks.

You fidget with your sleeves. Just ask. It’s Mark. It’s not like he’s gonna laugh in your face. Right?

“…Hey.”

Mark glances over. “Hm?”

You swallow. “So. This whole, uh. Hanging out thing.”

His brows lift slightly, like he’s waiting for you to continue.

You take a deep breath. “You—you weren’t, like. Asking me out, were you?”

Mark stumbles.

Not dramatically, but just enough that his shoe drags weirdly on the pavement.

You immediately regret everything. “Never mind! Stupid question, forget I—”

“What?” Mark fully stops walking.

You stop too, face burning.

Mark turns to you, brows slightly furrowed, like he’s trying to piece together a puzzle. “…Why would you ask that?”

You die internally. “Giselle said something,” you mumble.

Mark blinks. Then he shifts from one foot to another. “What… exactly did she say?”

You stare very hard at the sidewalk. “Just. That you might’ve been, um. Subtly. Asking me out this whole time.”

Silence.

You dare to look at him.

His ears are so red.

“Oh,” he says, voice sounding a bit strung, higher than usual.

You panic. “You don’t have to say anything! I just—”

“I mean,” Mark rubs the back of his neck, looking very interested in a nearby streetlamp. “I… kinda was?”

Your stomach flips.

Oh.

Mark winces. “Not in, like, a weird way! Just—” He exhales, rubbing his temple. “I thought you were cool. That night when you came up, i thought you were like…really pretty. And I figured, if you weren’t interested, we could just keep hanging out and it wouldn’t be—” He gestures vaguely. “A thing.”

You nod. Maybe too much. “Right. Yeah. Totally.”

Mark watches you carefully. “So, uh. Is it weird now?”

You pretend to think, but you already know your answer. You can see Mark’s shoulders shrinking with every waiting second.

“No.”

Mark’s shoulders relax. “Oh. Cool.”

You fidget with your sleeve. Your breath stutters.

“I think I like you too,” you admit, voice way too soft.

Mark stares for a few seconds, like he almost didn’t hear you, before his whole face lights up.

“Oh.” He clears his throat. “Uh. That’s—that’s cool.”

You laugh, nervous. “Yeah?”

He nods, a little too fast. “Yeah.”

When he looks at you again, he’s still flushed, still blinking like he’s trying to process this in real time.

“So, uh,” he starts, “what now?”

You don’t really know how to answer that.

You rock back on your heels. “I mean… we’re still getting coffee?”

Mark lets out a soft laugh, like he hadn’t even considered otherwise. “Right. Yeah. Obviously.”

The two of you start walking again, a little slower this time. The air between you is different now—not awkward, but buzzing, like a chord just on the verge of ringing out.

You steal a glance at him. His hands are jammed in his pockets, his shoulders slightly hunched, but there’s something almost relieved in the way he carries himself now. Like he wasn’t expecting this to go well.

You bite your lip, hesitating.

“You know,” You begin, “I thought you were cute too.”

“What?” Mark lets out, a little too loudly.

It almost makes you giggle. “That night when I came up to complain. I was supposed to go all out on you and make sure you’d never play your stupid guitar again. I was quite serious about cutting your strings off.”

Mark shakes his head sheepishly with a small laugh.

“But when you opened the door, I kind of forgot all of that.”

He stares at you, lips parted slightly like you just short-circuited his entire brain.

You shrug, suddenly feeling way too exposed. “I dunno. You just—looked cute.”

Mark drags a hand over his face, groaning. “What the hell.”

You blink. “What?”

“That’s so unfair,” he mutters, mostly to himself. “You showed up looking all pissed off and intimidating, and I was standing there in, like, the ugliest shirt I own.”

You snort. “It wasn’t that ugly.”

Mark groans again, looking up at the sky, almost too embarrassed to meet your eyes. “This is crazy.”

“What is?” you ask, still laughing.

“That you thought I was cute!” He gestures wildly. “Like. That doesn’t happen!”

You roll your eyes, but your stomach is doing so many flips. “Shut up.”

Mark looks at you for a second, then exhales, rubbing the back of his neck. The tips of his ears are still bright red. “I was really nervous that night, you know,” he admits.

Your brows lift. “Really?”

He nods. “You were just—you had this whole, like, ‘I will end you’ vibe, and I was trying so hard not to make it worse. But then you kinda—” He stops, mouth twitching. “You hesitated. Just for a second. And I thought, ‘Oh. She’s not actually as scary as she looks.’”

You gasp, shoving his shoulder. “Wow. Rude.”

Mark laughs, bumping into you slightly. “Sorry, sorry. But I was right, wasn’t I?”

You purse your lips. “Debatable.”

Mark hums, tilting his head. “Guess I’ll have to spend more time with you to figure it out.”

Your heart does a weird little jump.

You don’t let yourself overthink it.

Instead, you nudge him back, eyes flicking forward to the coffee shop just ahead. “You better buy me the best chocolate croissant they have.”

Mark grins. “Deal.”

And when his fingers brush yours, just briefly, you don’t pull away.

629 notes · View notes

totemstones · 21 days ago

Text

Can I Check The Microphone, Please?

(Somi x Male Reader)

Tags : Old-Young, Daddy Kink, Handjob, Blowjob, Titjob, Fingering, Dirty talk, Degradation, Multiple Cums

Length : 3.6K words

You’re a 49-year-old experienced sound engineer who just turned into ‘Chief Sound Officer’ for your team a few years now. Your work is managed and controls your team about the audio and sound, especially in concert or event, handling on-site sound reinforcement.

One day, your team got hired by a concert promoter, they hired your team to control the audio and live sound for their big K-Pop festival, including many K-Pop groups and soloists. This might be your team’s biggest event in your 8 years’ experience. Your team accepts to do it without hesitation, because the half of your team have been K-Pop fans for a while, including you, since you always saw your workers watched K-pop performances and you found it great.

You have been nervous yet excited for a whole week, since the day when your team picked up that call.

When the day arrives, you ride to the location in the morning, a few hours earlier than anyone. You start setting up the sound control zone, to make your teammates work easier, so when your team arrives, you can let them do it on their own and you hope the festival goes well.

Your team made it at noon to do their roles. Luckily, you have a flawless team who barely make mistakes.

‘Yeah, that’s probably my biggest work to date.’ - you talking to yourself

So, it means that you now have time to rest after being tired from waking up and coming early. Now you feel asleep in your team’s room

‘I gotta see a few performa-‘ you talked to yourself, but you start to fall asleep due to being tired.

You suddenly woke up and started to hear the voices of people talking around your room. You find out that K-Pop artists and their managers also arrived at the festival too.

‘Oh shit, they arrive?’ - you questioning

You start to seeing many shadows and hearing many voices outside the windows, might be the artists who start entering their room to rest and wait for their showtime.

As a K-Pop fan, you still didn’t believe it. You’re now close to K-Pop artists more than any fans in the festival, only 1 aisle away from your room.

You woke up at 6:30PM. You look at your phone and start to shock.

‘Oh! I slept too long. I hope I’m not get any missed calls, messages or knocks from my teammates’ - saying with nervousness

Luckily again, you didn’t miss anything from your team.

‘Phew, Okay, I really formed a great team’ - you proudly saying it

Even at the big event, your team manage to doing great on their work.

‘I hope i will get a bonus or gift or any reward after this’ - you joking

At that moment, you hear a knock at the door.

‘Hello, Anyone’s in there?’

Someone just knocks at the door, you confuse. It’s either your teammates or someone you don’t know and randomly knocking. So, you answer to the voice at the door.

‘Yes, Are you sure you’re knocking on the right room?’

‘This is the sound team room, right? I have some issue with my microphone.’

‘Ah, yes, I’m coming!’

You stand up and run to the door to open it

‘Hi, I’m chief sound offic-, Oh! You’re Somi, right?’ - you surprisingly asking her

‘Yeah, I’m Somi. Nice to meet you’ - she says it and shake your hand

‘Y- Yeah, Nice to meet you too’ - you shake her hand and show your nervousness expression

‘U-uh, so, what’s the problem?, Did anything wro-wrong with your microphone?’

‘So, i have some issue about my microphone. I think it’s broken, and i want to change it. Then I went to find the sound team. And they told me to go to their room at backstage to change it, and they led me here’ - she explaining how she got here

‘Oh, Okay, I will change it for you. So, please come in the room first’ - you inviting her to come in

‘Thank You’ - Somi says it with pleasure

You’ve turn your back, but you see a little gaze from her eyes at a few seconds before you turn your head back. It feels like her eyes went look up and down, you think she tries to tell you something. But you didn’t think about it and go to your team’s rack, where your team have kept spare microphones.

You’ve tried every microphones as much as you have, plug it into the speaker and test it, to find the best one to give her. The room was silent, only the signal noise from the speaker. You’ve tried so many microphones, but you start to be aware that Somi will perform late. So, you decide to talk to her to break the silence.

‘So, how many minutes you have left before you perform?’ - you concernedly asking her

‘30 minutes, but that’s fine, don’t worry. I handle it professionally’ - she answers

‘Oh, okay, I guess you’ve been in the industry for a long time, right?’

‘How you know about that?’

‘I ain’t gonna lie. I’ve been a fan of K-Pop for a while now, and i’ve been knowing about you and your ex-group. And you know what? My bias is you, that’s why I know you’

‘Oh, you’re a fan of me???’

‘Yeah, i like you because of your talents, and especially your hard-working’ - you’ve just praising the girl in front of you, and yap about how you like her

‘Oh, thanks for those kind words’

And then, she starts to stand up and walk towards to you, but you don’t recognize it because you’re busy and trying to finding the best one. Once you start to notice something behind you. You turn your back, and you see Somi being closer to you.

‘Ah! You scare me!’

‘Oh, I didn’t mean to scare you, I just want to see it.’

It looks like Somi was looking for something. You start to get nervous, realizing how closer she is.

‘Can you teach me how to tell that which one are the best?’ – she asks

‘Uh- Uhh, you can’t tell by looking at it without plug into the speaker’ – you answering

‘Oh, Interesting’

And then she starts to touch your arms and slide to your back, then her hands start to roam around your chest, from belly to your belt, and goes down to your zipper.

‘So, I’ve been wondering. Is your microphone the best when its plug it in me’ – she starts to talk dirty

‘Hey! What are you doing!, My teammates will find out’

‘And? Just show them how I treat- I mean test the mic that good’

She starts to take off your belt and unzip your pant and pull down. Your 7-inches cock spring out when she also pulls down your underwear. And she start to reach your cock and start rubbing it.

‘Well, my favorite size, measuring it from behind. I guess it will fit’

She enjoys rubbing you with both of her hands, her forefinger can’t touch her thumb because of how big you are. You try not to moan because it will show that you really love how great rhythm of her handjob.

Somi sneaky to sees your non-reaction, face with no feelings. So, Somi have to try another way.

‘Awww, Am I not testing microphone good enough Daddy? I’ll try another way’

You start to think that she will do something that you were thinking, and you were right. She start to take off her clothes beside you, now you can see her tits and pussy clearly. She kneel on both her knees and moves to the space between you and the team’s rack. You try not to look down on her face, start to avoid looking at her face.

‘Daddy, are you allow me to test another way?’ �� She asks

You love how she says the word ‘Daddy’ and how flirty yet slutty she looks, even your cock overlaying half of her face. And you hold your life out try not to answer her, but you can’t hold it. Your face starts to respond to her, your head nodding and she suddenly see it. You have realize that you’ve made a mistake.

‘I’ll take it as acceptance Daddy, I want to see your pre-performance before you plug it in me. And I’ll show you that i can handle it professionally’

She takes your slightly-properly-size cock into her mouth. Her slippery lip shows that she had prepared with saliva before. Inside of her mouth was warmth and moisty, with her tongue as the soft pad that support your cock.

You can’t hold it anymore. You start to move your hip a little and trying to match her rhythm, you can’t stand still. You start to shift your body closer to her to easily surprisedly deepthroat her, but she saw it and knows what you gonna do. Then she takes your cock out of her mouth. Your heart dropping, thought she aware it and it will make her mad.

‘I know what you’re about to do Daddy, don’t think I’m that dumb. Anyways, i’ll help you like how you help me, time for exchange’

You feel relieve that she isn’t mad. And since she already knew what you were about to do. She also moves closer to you and helps your secret objective that’s not secret anymore.

You and Somi starts to match each other freak and rhythm and get more sloppy. You’re now openly show how you enjoyable fucking her face. You firmly grab her head, wring her cheeks to jawline, pull her hair and move her head faster. She also looking up to you, and now you can look down to her without offending.

‘I’m not gonna hold it anymore, bitch. Look at your face while sucking cock is the experience that anyone will never get in their entire life. I guess I’m not that lucky, or someone sent me a gift. It’s just a dirty bitch who hide her pervert side to her fans. Imagine if they know about this, acting like a whore for the guy who just met. Now you look like a mess prostitute, your make-up is fuck up. I feel bad for your make up artist, they have to put more make up before the show because the girl just horny and got fucked rawly. But it can’t solve how mess you look’

‘Damn, you kinda love me now Daddy. You didn’t look like the guy who comfortably welcomed me into the room, passed a chair to me, being kind to me, doing his job to me. Look at you too Daddy, being rough and raw for girl who just met, and lying to girl, saying that he didn’t feel anything. Daddy wasn’t look alike a guy who i just met minutes ago, but i feels like we’ve been fuck before. I wish i met you before’

You both start to talk dirty; you and Somi’s faces turn red, it show how you each other like their compliments.

Her saliva drips down to the floor, her raw, sloppy and consistently blowjob was the most insanely blowjob you’ve ever got. You fuck her mouth for 7 minutes.

Now you feel like your orgasm about to come soon.

‘I’m nearly cum now, take this shit and it will shock you. Your cum-dump face is so fuckable’

‘Show it then Daddy. Fuck my face roughly and I hope your cum will shock me’

You are cupping her face to match the shape of your cock to make you feel like you fuck the tight pussy, the elements of her mouth is so perfect. You had deepthroat her a couple time.

You pull your dick out of her pussy-lookalike mouth and cumming all on her face, paint her face with your seed. Then she lets your white seed running all over her eyes, nose, lip and mouth. Some flows running under her neck through her cleavage, and the others drop down on the floor. Her face now covering in white, she starts to lick her lip and wipe her face to taste your seed.

‘Plenty amount & Delicious. You fuck my mouth so good. No one never done that to me, love how rough and raw you are.’

‘Yeah, me too, that shit was intense as hell.’ - You softly talking

Both of you rest for a couple minutes. And then you see her cleavage has your cum flows through her belly, and you find it sexy. Your cock starts to get erect again; she also saw your cock starts to rise again.

‘My cum behind your cleavage is so hot honestly. If you mind me to fu-‘

‘I know what you want Daddy even though we just met. But i can predict that you want my boobs squeezing on your cock. And I guess you’ve been looked at my boobs since the door was opened’ – She covering your mouth

‘Yeah, I guess the secret is open now’

You stand up and grab her boobs and place your cook in between.

You had changed your opinion when you start touching it. Her softest spot now is her boobs.

‘Your milks soft as hell. How cow-slut still got milks this soft’

‘I prepare them everyday Daddy. I do it because i hope someone who fuck me good will praise it’

‘So, am I good enough?’

‘I don’t know, you just praise my titties, but you never fuck me’

‘So if I fuck you now, am I pass?’

‘Based on your dirty and raw shit on first round. I guess you will’

You start to fold you own lip, the reaction of enjoyness

‘Why you fold your lips? Did you really love my titties that much?’

‘Yeah. I saw one of my worker had watched your performance, and i can’t stop focus on your bouncing titties. I try to avoid, but your big jiggly milks make me keep watching it. I often watch your fancam when i’m alone, it usually drives me a lot when you shake your body. And now i have a chance to do better than looking.’

‘But Daddy said you love my talents and my hard-working’

‘Ah, that’s the one, but your tits are OUTSTANDING talents’

‘Damn Daddy, you actually hold it’

You start to pacing your hip faster, used your previous cum as lube. Your cock hitting her throat everytime you thrusting.

‘Damn, Daddy’s dick hitting my throat both in and out, love how delivering it is.’

You have pull your cock and paint to her boobs, your glan rubbing her pinky titties

‘You still cum a lot, I love it’

She grabs your post-blasted cock to wipe more seed and swallow.

‘Ah yeah, still tasteful, no loss of flavor’

‘So now, Are you ready to get some fuck, slut?’

‘I guess so Daddy’

Before both of you try to fuck for the first time. Knocking from the door just destroys the atmosphere.

‘Hello, Is Somi still in there?’ - your teammate asking

That’s the voice of your teammate, you recognize it.

‘Y- Yeah, she’s here. But don’t open it yet, let me finish my job here’

You both clean the mess around, prepare before your teammate comes in.

‘That’s sad, i hope we fuck before this’

‘Don’t regret it Daddy, that shit was crazy. I hope we see each other more after this. You really impressed me a lot even without getting your dick in yet. You will impress more if my pussy devours you. But i really want you Daddy. So, if Daddy don’t mind, let’s do some quickie fingering’

‘Aight, bet’

Somi takes off her safety short after she just finish wearing it, to make a quickie fingering with you.

‘You’re really really true slut, take off those pant to get fingered’

‘I actually want it Daddy, don’t mad at me’

‘Daddy won’t mad if the pussy's good’

You take 2 fingers to caress her lips, moving up and down slowly but play more on her clit. Your movement makes Somi moans.

‘Ah, Daddy, it make me f- ah feel so g- ood, you can going hard- er on m- e, destr- oy my pussy’

‘I didn’t moan out before you sucked me. But now i just start fingering you, and you’re already moan. This slut can’t hold it longer. It’s time for Daddy to teach some lesson.’

You start to stuck your fingers into her pussy and going in and out, and other hand crushing her clit like what she desired.

‘Oh my god, your fingers fuck me so good. I can’t wait long enough to get your dick in mine’

‘Slut really can’t be wait. Even though you know that my teammate is here, waiting you to meet her. But you still horny and begged me to finger you’

You quickly fingering her. Her body now intensely shaking more than Vibrator, and looks like she about to cum soon.

‘I’m nearly cum now Daddy, thanks you for everything today, i will never forget this moment’

‘Slut like you will forget it’

‘Noooooo, i’m not forgetting the raw, roughly, degrading moment like this Daddy, you’re really great’

You still continuing the pace until her body trembling and her face relieving. Her pussy is so red, cause by your hand slapping her. That strong quickie caused her to squirt all over the floor.

You both take their pant on and have to clean the mess again.

‘Ok, i hope we will meet again and fuck soon’

‘So, Am i good enough at checking the microphone?’ - Somi asks

‘Definitely’

Somi fixing her hair, but still look messy, just trying her best not to look like she had been doing something before. She opens the door and see your teammate stands in front of the room.

‘Hi, Somi. Your showtime was near but i can’t find you anywhere, so i asked my friends. They say you had went to our room’

‘Oh!, i’m sorry to make you worry. My microphone just broken, so i went to find a spare one. And i already found ‘the best one’. I’m so sorry for being late’

‘Gwench-, i mean, that’s fine. You still have some time. Anyways, Can i take a photo with you?’

‘Yeah, sure!’

Your teammate grabs her phone and try to selfie. You trying to get in the frame, but your teammate don’t want you to be in.

‘Hey boss, i just want to selfie with her, not you!’

‘Alright, fine’

‘Nah, let him in. It would be perfect!’

She allows you to get in the frame because Somi gives you a chance. So you decide to clench her silky and big butt. Somi feeling it, she does a little tiptoe and press her lip.

‘Thank you Somi, I will led you to the preparation zone before the show starts’

‘Ok, thank you’

Your worker leads her, but she not following her yet. She choose to whispering to your ear.

‘I hope your butt clenching is the pinky promise, because i’ll let you destroy my asshole when we meet again’

And you whispering her back.

‘I will, see you again’

Then she walk after and turn her back to give you a wave and you wave her back.

You come back to your room and clean the mess that still left.

5 minutes later. The same teammate who led Somi to stage just came back. She decided to ask you something.

‘Boss, Why Somi take her time so long? Does anything bad happens?’

‘No, i tried my best to give the best one for her’

‘Really? Me and my friends was truly worried that she will perform late’

‘Yeah, nothing bad happens’

‘Alright, Do you want to see her show?’

‘Definitely’

You turn off everything, includes the speaker. And went to watch her show after things just happen.

Crowd start to gathering to watch Somi’s performance. When Somi shows herself, the crowd are going crazy and screaming for her. Your zone is closer than VIPs, as the Staff’s zone.

When you watch her fully expression face. You can’t stop thinking about the moment.

When she does interact with everyone. You were the first one to get her attention. She shaking your hand and smiling at you, while singing her line on ‘Ice Cream’

‘Come and get if you wanna. Yeah, I’m like Ice Cream (Ah yeah ah yeah) Got you wishing you could. You can try me (Ah yeah ah yeah) Only if you’ve been good.’

The way she say ‘Ah yeah’ sounds like when she moans after tasting your seed after her titjob, like she trying to remind you the moment.

You get more attention than anyone, some people in the crowd start looking at you. It also makes your teammate start wondering.

‘Damn boss, you really get her attention. You really helped her good’

‘For sure, i treat- i mean i helped her good’

End Credit :

After show ends, you came back to your room to pack up. Suddenly, the knock just happens again. You open and think Somi is coming back.

‘Hi agai-, Oh hello, who are you?’

‘I’m Somi’s Assistant Manager. She wants you and your team’s contacts for her future work’

‘Okay’

You give both contacts to her helper.

‘Thank you’

And then he left after you gave him.

A few hours later, Your phone shaking, and you see 5 messages from anonymous account.

‘I won't forget you Daddy’

‘Meet me again’

‘At my solo album showcase’

‘I miss your dick already’

‘Daddy’

Editor Note :

At first it was Natty, but then i found the TikTok search ‘Somi and Melody Marks’, so i changed to Somi after that, and I think it might more fit.

- totemstones

#somi smut #k pop smut #m reader #jeon somi smut #gg x reader #female idol smut #girl group smut

633 notes · View notes

alice-angel12x · 23 days ago

Text

Blue Knight ch.2

The complicated heart arc.

<- Part 1 that way/ Part 3 -> this way

"Listen to my Voice. White Lily Cookie Needs Your Help. SHe must wake up. So that she may hear my voice once more. Pure Vanilla Cookie... PURE VANILLA COOKIE!"

"Pure Vanilla Cookie!" Y/n called out to him.

"Y-Y/n cookie?" Pure vanilla gasped.

"Are you okay? your dough is turning pale as powder," Y/n asked as they gave him a handkerchief.

"I was lost in thought. Don't worry about me. Are we arriving at Beast yeast soon?" Pure Vanilla asked.

"We just crossed the border of beast yeast. Thank goodness the creme republic were willing spare an airship," Y/n said as they rested their arms on the railing.

Pure vanilla nodded as another uncomfortable silence fell between them. Neither really wanting to accidently talk about their last conversation and night together.

"So, was there anything back in your academy days that talked about Beast Yeast?" Y/n asked, trying to keep a conversation going.

"Not much, though there were many theories that many ancient life forms could be residing there," Pure Vanilla happily answered.

"Ancient life forms," Y/n repeated, then a playful smirk formed on their lips. "Sounds like your neck of the woods, ancient Hero."

"Is that so?" Pure vanilla asked with a light grin. " I may have lived for a long time, but I'm not that old."

"Oh?" Y/n smiles as they borrow Pure Vanilla's staff. "I feel like a young Cookie again!"

Y/n says with their best pure vanilla impression.

"Never thought I'd be adventuring at my age...!" Y/n said this time with a more old man voice to it.

"You little minx. I don't sound like this. Come here," Pure vanilla laughs as he quickly scoops Y/n to a bear hug. Trapping them against himself.

The two laugh and giggle as Y/n tries to wiggle free. While Pure Vanilla struggles to keep them close.

"No Pure Vanilla! Let go!" Y/n laughs.

"Then you must take back what you said," Pure Vanilla chuckles as he continues to bear-hug them and tickles their neck with a peck.

"Never! I won't submit!" Y/n roars with laughter.

"Oh, you rebellious spirit," Pure Vanilla laughs as he hugs them close

Gingerbrave and friends watch from the corner, with relieved smiles.

"Phew, I thought this was gonna be an awkward adventure," Gingerbrave sighs in relief.

"Did they have an argument not long ago?" Strawberry Cookie wondered.

"Maybe, but I hope they don't remain this lovey-dovey throughout this whole journey," Wizard Cookie groaned.

Just as the atmosphere was getting lighter, suddenly, the ship shook. An unseen monster grabbed the hull of the ship and started to shake everything violently. Everything happened so fast that the next thing the cookies knew, they were tumbling off the ship.

Gingerbread & Friends and pure vanilla cookie hit their heads on their way out of the airship. Leaving them in an unconsiouse free fall. Y/n quickly leaps into action as they dive after their party. They focused as their hands stretched and became paw like, long horns grew from their head. Their hair quickly changed into beautiful blue feathers, and it quickly covered Y/n changing form.

With one flap of their powerful wings, they quickly caught the tiny cookies.

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

"Pure Vanilla Cookie? Pure Vanilla!" Y/n's voice called from the void, as light suddenly floods his vision.

Pure vanilla cookies slowly open his eyes to see Gingerbrave standing above him with a concerned expression on their faces.

"I-is everyone okay?" Pure vanilla asked as he slowly rose to his feet.

"Supprisingly, I can't recall how we got down here after we were tossed off the ship," Wizard Cookie groaned.

"W-Where is Y/n Knight Cookie?!" The Hero gasped.

"They scouted ahead after we woke up. They told us to keep you company till you woke up, or they came back," Strawberry Cookie Explained.

"They left you three alone in beast yeast?" Pure vanilla cookie asked in surprise.

"Nope! They left these dough brains with me," Said a camilione creature that crawled onto Gingerbrave's head.

"Long story," Wizard Cookie said.

"Well, how long has Y/n Cookie been gone?" Pure Vanilla asked.

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

Beast yeast was certainly not for the faint of heart; yeast spore creatures were relentless. Coming in droves and trying to overwhelm in numbers.

It's a good thing they're weak to fire, and quickly got the message after a while.

" I must reveal it, the secret, " A voice called out.

Y/n's eyes darkened as they searched for the source of the voice. Their eyes landed on a brightly shining shard. As they reached out to grab the shard, they failed to notice. A faint glow from her chest almost looked like a star shape.

Grabbing hold of the shard, Y/nʻs reality faded away and standing before them were two cookies. They were giants; one was covered head to toe in obsidian black frosting armor. The other was cloaked in a light green cape, her hood obscuring face.

"What are you doing out here, Bliss Butter Cookie?" The black armored Cookie asked.

"Amazing, aren't they Silent salt?" Bliss Butter said as she cupped a few yeast creatures in her palms. "One day, they will be quite a menace in beast yeast."

"Would you think we should deal with them now? They could hurt the cookies we are supposed to be protecting?" Silent Salt asked as he readied his great sword.

"No, if we did, a horrible ripple effect will happen, making things worse for the Cookies in the future... At least, that's the common outcome in my visions," Bliss sighs as she blows away the yeast creatures.

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

"You're alright! Are you hurt?!" Pure vanilla asked as he rushed over to Y/n.

Y/n blinked as the world suddenly returned as Pure Vanilla pulled them into a hug.

"I'm good. I was fortunate to land on some...Soft flora," Y/n stuttered a bit, pure vanilla noticed.

"Anyways. I found something," Y/n said as they handed the shards over.

The light of freedom shone from them. A voice calls out to him.

"Be careful. I was given visions when I touched them," Y/n warned.

"Be Careful, Pure Vanilla Cookie. It could be a trick of dark entrantress Cookie," Wizard Cookie said.

"I carry the light of truth in my soul jam, just like White Liliy does with the light of freedom in hers," The hero says. "This shard holds a part of white Lily's soul."

Y/n holds out the shard to Pure Vanilla.

'And if it really is a piece of White Lily's memories, it's all the more reason to keep it close.' He whispered to himself.

Y/n watched as the cookie's eyes glazed over and stared into the unknown. But the cookies quickly regain consciousness.

"T-this is one of white lily's memories!" Pure vanilla gasped.

"White Lily's... That's strange; the vision I got wasn't of white Lily at all," Y/n commented.

"But this is her Soul Jam? How can that be?" The hero asked.

"Maybe it's best you hold this then," Y/n said.

"Thank you, Y/n, for finding this. I'm glad to find a trace of White Lily Cookie." Pure vanilla smiles warmly down at the shard.

Yeah, you're welcome." Y/n puts on their best smile.

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

"I told you to watch your left." Bliss butter giggled.

"Maybe say it a bit soon than later," Silent salt grunted as Bliss rubbed healing butter on his shoulder. "And where were you, Eternal Sugar? I could have used your help."

He said to a beautiful pink cookie, with ain't feathery wings and flowing hair.

"I was busy... Making Sure Bliss was protected. I must look out for my companion," Enternal sugar said as she flew to hug the Hooded Bliss Butter.

Bliss Butter chuckled as they suddenly looked to you.

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kamiversee · 6 months ago

Text

˗ˏˋ My Love Note ´ˎ˗

10 | I know that's

❧ Synopsis | In which Choso Kamo, your asshole of a best friend, starts to change after you get involved with a rather cheeky cashier, Gojo Satoru.

❧ Content | language, tension, flirting, mention of drugs & alcohol consumption, sexual tension, teasing, taunting, etc.

❧ Word Count | 7.2k (phew.)

❧ Pairings | Choso Kamo x f!reader & Gojo Satoru x f!reader.

| Chapters mlist |

——Back in your room, you wasted no time calling Gojo back. That whole… thing with Choso is something you’ll save your worrying for another day. As of right now, Gojo should be your main focus since you have a Halloween party to attend with him tonight.

Laying stomach first across your surprisingly neatly made bed, your feet dance back and forth in the air as you hold your cellphone to your ear and listen to Gojo ramble to you about his day. He didn’t address the phone hanging up at all or the way he definitely heard Choso’s voice before the line disconnected earlier—he just got on the phone, asked if you were alright, and then when back to what he’d been telling you before.

Which brings a nice smile to your face. It’s refreshing to have someone like Gojo to talk to, honestly. Not only do you really enjoy conversing with him or listening to him talk but, you also like how he didn’t question you like crazy. That simple act alone took some weight off of your shoulders because it meant you didn’t have to lie again. God knows you hate lying to the guy.

But you’re not gonna tell him the truth either because the truth is terrible. How do you even being to explain to your crush that you almost fucked your best friend again in the short amount of time you were off of the phone with him?

“So,” Gojo continues, clearing his throat a bit between words. “Aside from tonight’s party, you don’t have any plans for today, right?”

Your head tilts further against the phone as you release a gentle sigh, “To my knowledge, no I don’t have any other plans. Why?”

He yawns softly, “Because, that gives us enough time to go last-minute costume shopping, remember?”

Chuckling into the phone, your lips curve into a smile. “Don’t you have work?” You ask.

You can’t see it of course but, Gojo rolls his eyes at that, “I mean, yeah… But I’m sure my boss won’t mind if I close up a bit early. It’s Halloween.”

“If you say so,” You comment. “I’m assuming you want me to meet you at the cafe in a few hours then?”

“Yup,” Gojo hums with a sassy lil pop of the ‘p’ at the end there. “Til’ then, I’ll have to drown myself in work. My break’s about to be over.”

You click your tongue and frown a bit, “Aw, well hopefully time flies by fast.”

“Yeah, hopefully.”

· ───────── · ꨄ · ───────── ·

Once off of the phone with Gojo, you spend your day holing yourself up in your bedroom in an honest attempt of avoiding Choso. Luckily for you, at no point did he come knocking on your door trying to gain a bit of your attention. This provided you with a rather relaxing morning and afternoon of bedrotting.

Not the most productive thing to do but, hey, at least time flew by pretty fast. After lazying around for hours waiting for the right time, you ended up rolling out of bed and throwing on something cozy to go out in—you’d be changing into a costume in an hour so there was no point in dressing up too cute or anything.

You end up exiting you apartment wearing something easy to get in and out of so that when you do find your costume, and in the event that it later gets uncomfortable, you have something else to throw back on.

Taking a walk all the way throughout your campus just to reach that cute lil’ cafe you’ve grown to love and adore, you felt the season of fall brushing all against your skin as you walked. It’s as if that hectic morning of yours never even took place with how peaceful this part of your day was. For just a moment, it was only you and your thoughts. No horny Choso humping against you like a dog in heat, no anxiety induced thoughts screaming at you everytime Gojo talks to you… just, tranquility.

And when you finally arrive at the designated coffeehouse you’ve been to time and time again, a smile is painted across your face before you even push past the front doors. The sun is making it’s set so the sky is all pretty with different hues of oranges and reds—something you took a few pictures of on your way here.

Grabbing a hold of the warm metal door handles, you give it a light push and that homey smell of coffee rushes into your nose. A smell in which you’ve grown quite fond of given what follows shortly after…

No one is inside except for Gojo so the smile on your face merely brightens as you meet eyes with him. Almost like a damn puppy, his entire demeanor lightens up at your presence, pretty dimples peaking out in his cheeks as he reciprocates your happy expression.

You’re approaching the counter and he’s making his way around it, all too quick to embrace you by wrapping his muscular arms around your waist and pulling you in close. Gojo lets out a long sigh, “Been’ waiting all day to do this, y’know.” He tells you, voice muffled slightly with the way his face slowly barries itself into the crook of your neck.

You hug him back with the same amount of passion he’d approached you with and then smile. “Do what? Hug me?” Your voice is gentle against his ears and unbeknownst to you, his heart feels all weird in his chest. Then there’s these flutters your feel in your stomach at how good he smells and how stupidly clingy he seems to be today.

It’s this strange mix of coffee beans and his cologne that seeps into your nose now, making you hug him just a bit tighter to simmer into the scent some more. He smells like a hard working man and you simply love that for whatever reason. You suppose that thing people say about a man in uniform is true after all…

“Yeah,” Gojo soon answers your question whilst lifting his face from your neck and meeting your eyes again. His gaze stays put for barely even a second before he’s cracking a smirk and leaning in to kiss you.

A brief grin ghosts your lips as he kisses you. Your arms firmly wrap around his neck and you push up on your toes a bit to deepen the connection of your mouths. Gojo’s lips feel like comfort against your own, almost as if you were ice and he the sun—his every touch melting you in his hands. You let out a small hum in between the kiss as he slots his lips against yours further, steadily drawing your bottom lip into his mouth and sucking on it.

His tongue dances against the plump skin for only a moment before he pries himself away and you both ease out a small breath of air. “And that,” Gojo says, “I swear you’re on my mind all day.”

Such a soft admission spoken to you so suddenly makes you gulp. “Am I now?” You whisper, noticing how he’s leaning back in for another kiss already.

Gojo wets his lips and smiles. “Yeah,” He utters back just as softly, skin brushing over yours, and eyes narrowing, “Jus’ can’t get enough of you.” Is the last thing he tells you before he’s ridding himself of all the space between you two again.

No one else is in the establishment, so you kiss for a hot minute. It’s soft at first, like always, but then it gradually heats up. His hands move to your waist and his head tilts further while his tongue makes its journey into the wet caverns of your mouth. Groaning at the sweet taste resting there, Gojo unconsciously steps forward with you. You naturally follow his lead and he ends up kissing you until your lower back meets the counter.

Not sparing you the chance to break the kiss, Gojo bends down a little and swiftly lifts you up onto the counter—his lips never once leaving yours. He feels starved as he makes out with you right in the middle of where he works. Hushing out a simple, “Taste s’sweet,” In between your lips.

You mutter his name somewhere throughout the kissing and one of your hands ends up on his chest, very faintly pushing him. As the kiss is severed, Gojo has this needy expression all over his face and his cheeks are reddened. He’s so pretty that it genuinely hurts to look at. It almost isn’t fair.

“Don’t we have some shopping to do?” You remind the man in a slightly breathless tone.

Gojo bats his lashes at you almost innocently. “Yeahh, but we have time, don’t we?” As the words roll off of his tongue, his lips are curving into that taunting little smile again, and then his dimples are making yet another appearance.

His hands, which are so stupidly soft, trace the outskirts of your thighs upon the counter. Those almost beryl-blue eyes of his scan over your face, taking in every inch and curve, studying you, and getting mesmerized by you. If you looked way too closely into it all, you’d almost asume the guy was in lo—

You clear your own throat to cut that thought off. “No, it’s Halloween, silly.” You remind him with a smile, glancing down to your hands on his chest and moving your fingertips to trace what you can feel beneath his clothes. “There’s barely gonna be costumes as is, the later we go, the less there’ll be.”

Gojo sighs while he thinks for a moment. His bottom lip protrudes as he pouts and you can’t help the way you chuckle at that. “S’not funny. I really did miss you,” He tells you again, tipping his head down into your neck and pressing his lips against your skin, “But you’re right, we probably should head out now.” He’s agreeing with you with his words but the way he’s planting these soft pecks against your neck is saying something else entirely.

His kisses tickle and you end up holding onto his shirt a bit and letting out a giggle, “Satoru,” You call out once, receiving no sign of him stopping his ticklish kisses. Then you squirm and he smiles against you. “‘Toru,” You say, to which his teeth graze you.

“Such a tease,” Gojo simmered into your skin hotly. “Callin’ me that nickname like you don’t know what it does t’me…”

Full on smiling now, you angle your head to look at him and he pulls away from your neck to meet that incoming gaze. His pupils seem to expand ever so slightly as they’re met with yours but, you may have imagined that. “It does something to you?” You ask innocently as you push forward to slide off of the counter, “I had no idea…!”

That cheery faux innocence in your tone makes Gojo’s smile expand before his eyes roll. He watches the way you step aside and straighten up your clothes before sending him one last glance. Something about you really keeps his mind at this mushy state because every time his eyes lock with yours it’s like he can’t form a single thought in his brain that doesn’t involve you.

Staring, letting a small moment of the eye contact pass by, Gojo scoffs softly. “Riight, sure you didn’t.” He replies to your last comment sarcastically.

After that brief conversation, which could’ve easily progressed into something more if you didn’t stop him, you assist Gojo in cleaning up the cafe so he can leave with you. All you had to do was wipe a few tables off and then you watched him sweep and mop. It seemed like not many people had come in today given the state of the kitchen and how clean it was (you’d picked up on how messy it gets when Gojo is swamped with customers a while back).

Small talk is held almost the entire time up until he finally closes up and walks you to his car. It’s then that silence is welcomed back into your space and even as you walk with him, you still feel this comforting air wrapping around you. Especially when Gojo throws an arm over your shoulder and soon opens his car door for you. He’s so strangely perfect that you can’t help the way you feel for him.

Even throughout the car ride to… the nearest costume shop? He plays a bunch of Halloween songs and throughout Micheal Jackson’s ‘Thriller’, you notice that even Gojo’s singing is perfect. Hence why by the time you two make it to your destination your cheeks hurt from how hard you’d been smiling and you can hardly remember the last time a guy, aside from Choso, has made you laugh this much.

The shop he takes you to is rather… pricey, you note as the two of you stroll through together. And yeah, most of the shelves are cleared off and whatever’s left isn’t anything super creative. Gojo guides you to the back of the store though and you swear he had this all planned out in his head with the way he leads you straight to a particularly cute couples costume.

“Y’know,” You start off, picking up the clearly designated costume that stands out in contrast to the other last-minute options left on the surrounding shelves. “If you wanted us to wear matching costumes, you could’ve jus’ said something.”

When you glance back to Gojo, you notice the way he’s got a hand scratching the back of his neck and is looking off to the side nonchalauntly. “I have no idea what you’re talkin’ about, sweets…” He hums, that faint pigment of pink coating his cheeks yet again.

You snort, “Really? So how is it that you’ve led me all the way back here and straight to the only decent costumes left in this store?” As you speak, you lift the two costume packages up and hold them out to showcase them to him. “Not to mention, they just so happen to be the only matching ones too.”

Gojo redirects his eyes to the items in your hand and he grins innocently. “This is a coincidence, really.” He chuckles, “I mean why would I—“ He stops himself mid-sentence at the look you’re giving him and just ends up sighing in defeat. “Okay, okay, fine,” His hands went up, “Ya’ caught me.”

You smile, “Mhm, I know. Now, are you gonna go ahead ‘n ask me to match with you orr…?”

His shoulders sink a bit, “Do I have tooo? You’re already holding the costumes, are you really gonna make me ask—“

“Yep,” You hum in response with a mocking pop of the ‘p’.

Gojo scoffs playfully. “Fine.” He starts, stepping closer to you, “Do you wanna be the cowgirl to my cowboy and y’know, ride throughout this Halloween night with me?”

There’s half a beat of silence that passes after the cheesiness that just left his lips before you burst out laughing. “You’re so corny, oh my God.” You snicker out in an airy tone.

He joins your giggling with his own and then tips his head to the side, “So is that a yes orrrr…?”

Rolling your eyes, you nod. “Yeah, I’ll be the cowgirl to your cowboy tonight, Satoru.” Then you hand him his designated costume and brush past him.

Gojo clenches his fist and brings it down to himself in celebration, whispering a little, “Yess.” To himself childishly while you make your way to the nearby dressing room.

There were other last minute costumes that’d caught your eye on your way to the back of the store but, you think you’re pretty content with the cowgirl costume you end up putting on. Sure, you passed the classics like witches, cheerleaders, vampires, ghosts, etc… but this costume fits you so well that it’s almost as if it were made for you.

It fits your body almost like a leather glove but without being too uncomfortable or tight. It’s a top and bottom set—mostly consisting of black and an accenting hint of red here and there.

Once you get it on, your body is quickly flattered by the fabric. The top is long sleeved, cropped up high, and has a knot that ties right in the lower center of your chest with a vest that has these sparkly red stars on it. Then there’s the sorry excuse for shorts accompanying the top, that’s decorated with this semi-chunky belt with matching sparkly red stars. Lastly were the boots and hat, both black with hints of red, that completed the look.

And once you got a glance of yourself in the nearby mirror, you were gagged by how good you look. You spun around to get a full view of yourself, noticing the hug that the shorts have on your ass, shaping you perfectly. Hell, you almost never wanna take this damn thing off. And contrastingly enough, part of you is a bit self-conscious to actually go out like this.

It’s not until you take a deep breath and step out of the dressing room that your confidence returns to you with the wolf-whistle you recieve from Gojo. Your eyes had been somewhere on the floor until you heard the sound he let out, lifting your gaze to find him slouching back against some chair he managed to find and pull up. He’s got his legs all spread like some slut (not that you’d ever say this aloud, of course) and you don’t think there’s a single thought of innocence in your head as you take in the sight of him.

His costume is matching yours but, there’s a lot less skin showing, obviously. The shirt he has on is rolled up to his elbows and he’s got a teasing amount of his chest revealed—matching you with that low v-cut top you have, except his shirt is just a bunch of buttons undone.

His lower half is your typical pair of cowboy pants, all snug against his thighs, fabric straining over his muscles, and—

“Eyes up here sweets’,” Gojo says with a snap of his fingers. You flinch and revert your gaze to his face, gulping at the way he’d caught your gaze trailing elsewhere. “There she is,” He purrs, motioning with two fingers for you to walk toward him, “C’mere. Lemme get a better look at’cha.”

You almost awkwardly shuffle over to him, shyly covering your exposed midsection and trying to calm the pounding of your heart with each step you take. “Satoru, d-don’t you think this is a bit…” You hate how nervous you are right now, as if he hasn’t seen you with less clothes before.

Once you find yourself standing right in between his legs, he peers up at you with that ridiculously handsome smile of his. “A bit what?” Gojo hushes out as he reaches forward and moves your arms out the way to expose all of you to his greedy eyes. “I think you look perfect, like always.” He practically whispers, leaning forward and planting an all too affectionate kiss onto your stomach.

You flinch again and instinctively move your hand to his shoulder to push him back a bit, “Thank you but, I feel exposed.”

He acts as though you shoved him back, slumping into the chair like he was before and giving you this lovestruck expression as he meets your eyes. “S’okay,” Gojo tells you, “I’m sure there’ll be a lot more people wearing a lot less tonight so, you’ll feel more comfortable once we’re there.”

You give him a little nod in response and he moves his hands to trace your hips, feeling the tight fabric of your shorts beneath his fingertips and taking a deep breath.

“And if not,” He moves to stand up and you’re reminded of the height difference between you two all over again. “I’ll give you my jacket or something, okay?”

Nodding again, you feel so safe beneath his gaze—almost like nothing else really matters when you’re around him.

Once that’s all been settled, you and Gojo leave the costume shop. You forget to question him about how the hell you two were able to leave without paying for anything but, the rest of the night takes over all those questions you love asking him so much.

· ───────── · ꨄ · ───────── ·

Before you even know it, you’re pulling up to this huge house, distant thumping sounds of music and giggles heard throughout the air as Gojo parks his car not too far off. There’s vehicles placed all down the street, people all over the front yard, some just hanging out and others taking pictures or even making out.

It’s been a while since you last attended a party but, the sight of multiple skimpy outfits brings you a sense of comfort as soon as you step out of the car. The music from the house is so loud that you can’t even make out what song is playing right now due to the bass. Even so, Gojo quickly approaches your side and rightfully places his arm over your shoulder like he did earlier, keeping you nice and close to him while the two of you make way for the entrance.

The atmosphere is overly lively. You can hear and see people laughing, talking, dancing, drinking, etc. The music vibrates off of the house walls as you and Gojo walk in, shuffling past hella people just to make it fully inside. The house-, mansion, really, is packed with semi-drunk college students and you’re quickly reminded why you don’t surround yourself with party goers almost every weekend like you used to.

There’s definitely heads turning as you and Gojo navigate through the crowd of people but, you can’t really tell if that’s because of him or you.

You would’ve loved to say that Gojo was the most attractive man there but… it’s really hard to say that when you’re quickly stopped by some tall polished blonde man wearing a priest costume. Ignoring the way Gojo’s got an arm around your shoulder entirely, this guy grins at you kindly and he’s got the prettiest honey brown eyes taking in all of you as he leans toward you to voice a compliment.

“Beautiful costume,” The man says to you simply. From where you and Gojo had made it to, the music wasn’t overwhelming and you could actually talk to someone without yelling or leaning in too close.

Naturally, you smile in thanks and give him a little nod. “Thank you, I like yours as well. You’re a priest, right—“

“Nanami!” Gojo beams beside you, unconsciously telling you the name of the blonde man you were seconds away from making casual conversation with. “The hell are you doin’ here?” He asks in a taunting tone.

Nanami’s face flicks into something tired at the mere sound of Gojo’s voice. “I should be asking you that, Gojo. You’re supposed to be at work right now.” He says sternly.

Gojo chuckles lightly, “Oh don’t be like that, boss.” He says, taking his arm from around you and moving to tap Nanami on his arm, “It’s Halloween!”

Nanami sighs. “Yes, yes, I know. That’s why I’m not upset or anything but, you could’ve sent a text. I’d like to be aware of whether or not my cafe’s closing early.”

It suddenly clicks for you that Nanami owns that beloved cafe you visit practically everyday—something which, getting a good look at his chiseled face, just fits him. Nanami is exactly what you imagined Gojo’s boss looking like, honestly. The only thing surprising you here is the fact that he’s around the same age.

You’re about to say something to insert yourself back into the conversation but you’re interrupted by a familiar voice. “Oh my God, Satoru! You made it!!” Hori says overly cheerful.

By the time you turn your head to spot her, her arms are wrapping around Gojo’s waist and she’s hugging him tightly. Gojo hugs her back with one arm and forces a friendly smile onto his face.

“Hey Hori,” Gojo greets rather plainly. “Are you dressed as a… bunny?” He asks as he looks down at her within his grasp. You couldn’t really see her because of the way she was hugging Gojo but that didn’t bother you too much when Nanami steals your attention away with a light tap.

“I didn’t get your name,” He says to you, having leaned in a bit so that you could hear him clearly.

“Oh,” You chirp before extending a hand out and voicing your name to him. Nanami nods as he shakes your hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Nanami.” You greet officially.

He grins kindheartedly, “The pleasure is all mine, honestly.”

There’s a moment of prolonged handshaking before someone bumps into Nanami’s arm and your hands disconnect. You both look to see who it is and you’re met with this brown haired guy dressed as some kind of criminal (?). Tugging the skimask up off of his face, your eyes are greeted with a very contrasting face. He’s got these big doe-like eyes and his features scream innocence in a way.

“Woah, you’re pretty,” He chuckles, clearly tipsy off of whatever drink seems to be held in his left hand. “Y’Mind if I get your number?”

Your eyes go wide at his straightforwardness and all you do is smile at first. “Uh, I’m actually…” You slowly glance to where Gojo is, only to find that he’s been dragged elsewhere with Hori. You see his a peek of his snowy white hair amid the crowd and your shoulders slump a bit at how quickly he just left your side. Turning back to the brunette male, you nod, “Y’know what, yeah, sure.”

Nanami clears his throat and his phone is held out soon, “Me too actually,” He chimes in.

With that, you're entering your number into the two guy’s phones and then handing their devices back to them. The brunette soon informs you that his name is Ino and the three of you stand there making small talk for a bit.

It’s mildly concerning that Gojo just left you like that but you distract yourself with the two men talking to you at the moment.

After chatting with them for a bit, they eventually part ways with you and you navigate your way through the sea of party people alone. There’s not a single familiar face throughout the crowd and it’s not until you notice you’re getting stares from people that you start feeling self conscious again.

You thought that maybe if you made your way to the dance floor and vibed by yourself for a bit, you’d be fine. But, you don’t even make it that far because somewhere throughout your shuffling through people, someone grabs a light hold of your arm and pulls you out of the crowd.

You stumble into step to see who the hell decided to grab you like that. It wasn’t aggressive or anything but it was concerning since you’ve only seen unrecognizable people thus far.

“Finally a familiar face,” The sound of Utahime’s voice hits your ears and she’s turning to face you after pulling you far away enough to talk to you. “Y’know how long I was in that damn crowd looking for literally anyone I knew? I’m so glad I found you.” She says with a sigh.

Your chest feels light as you drink in her wearing a cheerleader costume. “I’m glad you found me too, I was walking around here for maybe ten minutes or so.” You explain.

She rolls her eyes, “I thought you came here with Gojo? Did that asshole ditch you?”

You’re quick to shake your head. “Nono, he didn’t ditch me! I think Hori pulled him off earlier and I was talking with these other guys so we just got separated. Any longer in that crowd and I would’ve called him.”

Utahime pauses for a second while she gathers your words. Then, her expression changes and she smiles at you. “Oh, okay. I was just making sure because Gojo can be a real dickhead sometimes.”

“Think so?” You end up asking. This was the first time you’d heard anything remotely negative about him so, of course your curiosity is piqued.

“Yeah.” She replies, clearly having no intention of going further into an explanation at the moment. Then, with a sigh, she allows her eyes to drop down along your figure. Utahime lets out a small up and her head tilts, “Anyway, you look good—love the costume.” She compliments, her tone light and almost flirtatious.

Though, you could totally be misinterpreting things. “Oh, thank you! I love yours too, it fits you nicely.” Your returned compliment makes her smile and she allows her arms to fold beneath her chest.

“Aww, thanks. I think I—“

“Utahime!!” And there she is again… Hori. Cutting off yet another conversation and spawning into the scene out of seemingly nowhere, dressed as Regina George’s sorry excuse of a bunny from Mean Girls 1 (which is fitting since she’s blonde as well), Hori’s all smiley and her cheeks are lightly flushed. “I was looking for you everywhere. Where’d you run off to?!” She huffs as her arms wrap around Utahime’s singular arm and her head comes to rest on her shoulder.

Utahime says something to respond but all words and sound practically dies out in your ears as a pair of arms wrap around your waist from behind and a fluffy head of hair rests on your left shoulder. Flinching at the sudden contact, you don’t even get the chance to say anything before lips are grazing your ear and a familiar spread of warmth is brushing at your skin.

“Was lookin’ for ya’ everywhere, sweets.” Gojo hushes out into your ear. “God, you smell so good,” His voice lowers and the arms around your waist begin to shift along with his head. The tip of his nose is soon felt burying itself into the crook of your neck and he inhales sharply while his slender fingers smooth over the exposed skin of your waist.

Your body tenses up due to all the sudden touches but, a smile is sparking across your lips before you even realize it. “Thank you, Satoru. And, I was looking for you too… for like, ten minutes actually.” You inform him, earning a gruff little hum in response. “You invited me here ‘n then left me in less than five minutes…”

Gojo grimaces once the mentioning of his departure hits his ears. He sighs into your skin before pressing a small kiss at it, “M’sorry. First Hori pulled me away to find Suguru, and then some other people came pulling me along… I should’ve come back for ya’, my bad.”

You lean back against his touch a bit and your back becomes flush with his chest, “It’s okay, I’m glad you found me.”

“Yeahhh,” He sighs. For a second, you begin to wonder if he’s drunk with how sly his words seem to fall off of his tongue. “To make up for it though.. We could go—“

“Lemme guess, dance?” You cut off, recalling the last party you went to with him and how the same exact thing happened then. He really was a people magnet all around, huh?

Chuckling, Gojo gives your body a small tug and your ass is brought back toward his crotch. “You know it,” He says cheekily as he lifts his head from your neck and then drops his hands to your hips. It’s swift the way he spins you around to face him, your hands soon finding place on his chest and your eyes meeting his pretty blue ones. After which, he allows his hands to sneak behind you and grab a nice handful of your ass within his palm.

Ultimately, you were left looking up at him all surprised and confused. Gojo is touchy, sure. He always has been but… he doesn’t normally touch you so intimately out in the open like this. It was different. Not that you minded it but, it left you to wonder who or what he wanted to showcase these touches off to…

His cheeks were similarly flushed to how Hori’s were when you last looked at her, again leading you to wonder if he’d dranken anything. “Satoru,” You call out gently, moving your hands to cup his cheek and lull his expression a bit closer to your own for better study. “Have you been drinking?”

Gojo’s eyes take a second to actually focus on you, which silently tells you all you need to know. “Juuuust a lil’, yeah.” He admits to you.

To which you frown, “You went off and drank without me too? Wowww.” Your voice is clearly dramatic but Gojo seems to pout anyway.

Leaning in to you, he rests his forehead against yours and his arms circulate your waist again as he hugs you properly. “I jus’ had like, one cup of somethin’.” Gojo explains, his voice softening whilst his lashes bat in an innocent manner.

You stare at him. “One cup and you’re tipsy already?” You say, releasing a soft fit of laughter.

Gojo scrunches up his face a bit and you feel like it’s just you and him in the room right now, despite sounds of people laughing and talking all loud surrounding the two of you. “Mhmm. I don’t drink too often ‘cause I can't really handle alcohol too well,” He explains to you with a slight clearing of his throat.

The distant sound of Tory Lanez’s ‘The Color Violet’ can be heard and it makes Gojo lift his head and glance back toward where most people are dancing and the music is at its loudest.

Your eyes remain up on the man, “Should I be worried?”

He looks at you again and smiles, his brows tweezing together. “What? No. I’ve been told I get clingy when I’m drunk but aside from that, I’ve never done anything… stupid, I guess.” You hum in acknowledgement and Gojo starts backing away, tugging you along with him before he motions toward the dance floor. “Now c’mon, I owe you a dance, don’t I?”

It takes you a second or two to allow your body to be pulled properly with him but after that, your hand ends up in his and he soon pulls you through the crowd of people.

· ───────── · ꨄ · ───────── ·

The music gradually gets louder and louder until it consumes the entirety of your senses. You could feel the vibrations of the bass within each step you took, the music blurred throughout your ears, and all the dancing and lingering smell of marijuana and alcohol truly gave you that party atmosphere you’d forgotten about over the years. Before you even realize it, Gojo’s got you somewhere lost amid groups and groups of people dancing, trailing you closest to him using the grasp he had on your hand until you were able to dance right with him.

In contrast to dancing at that gala with him, you feel a lot more at ease here (surprisingly). Instead of gentle sways and intimate slow dancing, it’s more of sensual rolling of bodies against one another and long lasting glances all up and down your body that make you feel warmer than you should be.

Gojo’s got his hands everywhere with little care as to who sees what. From your hips, following their structure and the way you sway them around and against him, to your waist, twirling you around so that your back is facing him one moment and then vice versa so he can gather all of your neon illuminated features.

His favorite bit of the dancing is very obviously when your back is facing him and you dance against him. It’s in the smooth rock of your hips against him that he gets lost in, eyes all casted downward on your lower half, watching the way you dance back against him. One moment he’s smiling and the next he’s genuinely dazed by you. Then again, it could’ve been the alcohol in his system that made all his senses feel heightened like that.

Gojo felt like he was high simply from dancing with you. So much so that at some point he had to ask you if he could go sit down for a bit because you were uh… causing a bit of stiffening to stir up in between his legs. Part of you wanted to tease him about how just a bit of grinding back on him had turned him on but, another part of you was ready to loosen up a bit and partake in some drinking of your own.

Nothing crazy of course but, you felt like you would be a little stiff in the crowd without Gojo by your side and if he wanted to go sit down but you wanted to continue dancing, you’d have to get some alcohol in you to lessen the tension in your body. As such, a small conversation between you and Gojo took place and he ended up pointing you toward the kitchen before letting you know he wouldn’t be too far off.

The house was huge but with the directions he gave you, you figured you’d be fine.

And honestly? You were fine navigating through people on your own this time. But just in case, Gojo did take it a step further and message you the same thing he’d told you (just in case you didn’t hear him perfectly enough over the music).

How considerate of him. You thought to yourself as you made your way down a hallway and toward the far off kitchen.

Upon entering the space, you spot a few people making their own drinks, smoking, or talking with a friend but ultimately it’s a lot more laid back in comparison to the dance floor you’d previously been on. This allows you a moment to breathe, exhaling softly as you make way for the first stack of red plastic cups you find.

As you find a decent space on the counter to prepare your stuff, you begin to replay the small events from this party in your head. Smiling, you realize how wonderful everything’s been going for you thus far. You met two guys who were really nice, one of whom seemed to be acquainted with Gojo, Utahime was really friendly with you, and then dancing with Gojo just felt… nice. It was almost like things had gone too good for you tonight. Well, safe for Hori repeatedly interrupting something for you and failing to even say hi to you.

It’s not like you were expecting her to but, it would’ve been nice. She was standing right in front of you. Twice.

But hey, maybe she didn’t even remember you and the small convo you had with her. After all, this is her party and she clearly knows a lot of people so there’s probably a million and one things occupying that brain of hers. Speaking of which, that small conversation you had with her reminds you… didn’t you invite—

“How much for a ride, princess?” Choso’s voice suddenly hits your ears and you practically flinch out of your skin.

Your elbow instinctively shoots back and you nudge him right in his stomach with a loud yelp, “Jesus-, fuck, Choso!” You spew out before clasping your hands over your mouth in response to the sound of surprise you’d let out. “Scared the hell outta’ me.”

He lets out a laugh in between some sort of cough, probably one provoked from your strike against him just now. Slowly, his coughing fades into a full on chuckle and you move your eyes to gather the sight of him behind you. He’s wearing red and black, his hair tied up into two messy pigtails using these red hair ties, and—holy shit. Choso’s dressed up as Garu from Pucca.

The realization makes you gasp dramatically as you turn around to face him fully. “Oh my God? Are you… Is that a Garu costume?!” You exclaim, moving your hands to his shirt and tugging him a bit close as you study the big red heart imprinted on the center of it.

Choso finally clears his throat and drops his eyes down to the way you’re pinching the hem of his shirt in between your fingers, “Uh, obviously?” He remarks sassily before lifting his gaze to your costume and cocking his head to the side. “And what are you supposed to be? A cowgirl?”

“Obviously,” You say mockingly. “Didn’t you just ask me how much for a ride like twenty seconds ago??”

His red gloved hand moves to brush your touch off of his shirt and then he smirks. “Yeah, ‘n you didn’t even answer, jus’ gave me a mean nudge to the gut…”

“You scared me!” You huff out to him.

Choso’s eyes settle firmly on the cleavage of your tits, not making any sort of attempt to avert his gaze as he talks to you, “I know.” His tone makes it seem as though he did that on purpose. “But I had to get back at you somehow. Who the hell invites their friend to a party and then makes no attempt to see if they’re still coming or if they even made it?”

Oh damn. You did kinda forget about him as soon as you got around Gojo… You don’t think Choso’s even crossed your mind again since earlier that morning. “Ohh uhm, sorry about that.” You say, a slight awkwardness drafting by mere seconds afterwards.

Choso gives you this loose nod of his head before stepping past you. “Yeah uhuh,” He hums casually whilst taking two of those red cups out from their stack. “Too distracted dancin’ with your partner to think about me, right?”

Your eyes follow him as he moves and you watch the way he fixes two drinks—one of them clearly for you. “He… He’s not my partner, Cho. I just—“

“No? But you two are matching,” He points out as he interrupts your next sentence. “Cowboy and Cowgirl too, how cute,” Then, Choso’s turning his head to look at you with this expression you can’t quite read as the next words leave his lips lowly. “Wonder if you’ll ride him the same way you did me.”

“What—“

He scoffs, “Yeah, y’gonna show him all the things you showed me?” He presses even further, taking a step away from preparing those drinks and toward you. Your body seems to not want to listen to you because you remain still and don’t even try to step back. Choso leans in close and angles his head to the side as his eyes remain dead set on yours, “Hm? Are you gonna beg him to fuck you the same way you begged for my cock that night?”

You’re left staring at him all speechless and dumbfounded, no sharp remarks to throw back at him, no attempts at arguing with him, just… nothing.

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eclipixels · 1 month ago

Note

Hi! Can I request Reo x poor reader where the reader is not used to all the luxury and stuff :) thank you

Opulence

Reo Mikage x Reader

[1,770 words]

You have always been poor. It wasn’t something you were ashamed of, but it also wasn’t something you went around advertising. You worked hard, saved what you could, and made do with what you had.

But then there was Reo.

Reo Mikage, the boy born with a silver spoon in his mouth. The boy who had everything—money, talent, charisma—except you.

And that was a problem.

A big, fat, huge problem.

Because Reo had a massive crush on you.

When you smiled? It felt like you only smiled for him. When you laughed? It played on repeat in his head for days. You were the one thing in his life he couldn't just buy, and that made you priceless in his eyes.

“Dude, you’re drooling.”

Reo snapped out of his daze, blinking rapidly as Nagi stared at him, unamused.

“S-Shut up! You drool all the time when you’re sleeping,” Reo shot back, flustered.

Nagi hummed, gaze flickering toward you. “She’s looking over here.”

“Omg, really!? Where?” Reo’s head whipped around so fast he nearly gave himself whiplash.

Only to be met with Nagi’s lazy, amused grin.

“…You liar.” Reo grumbled.

Reo didn’t do anything small. So when he confessed, it was big. Like, romantic-movie-big. He had a private setup at one of the fanciest places in town, rose petals, and even a violinist.

Unnecessary? Maybe.

Effective? Very.

Because you said yes.

And that’s how you found yourself sitting in Nobu on your first date.

“…N-Nobu?” You asked, staring up at the fancy golden sign in disbelief.

Reo beamed. “Yeah! My grandparents knew the original owners when they first founded the chain.”

You almost laughed at how casually he said that.

“This is…” You trailed off, feeling so out of place.

“Oh, do you not like it? I should’ve asked where you wanted to go, I—”

“No, no! I like it,” you reassured quickly. “This is… more than nice. Wow.”

Reo let out a relieved sigh, grinning. “Phew, okay! Thought I messed up there.”

You sat down, staring at the menu. And then your stomach dropped.

Because nothing on this menu had prices.

Which meant it was one of those places where if you had to ask, you couldn’t afford it.

You swallowed thickly. What the hell do I even order?

Reo must’ve noticed your hesitation. “Mmm, why are you so quiet?”

“…I just—well, I don’t know what to get,” you admitted, embarrassed.

Reo tilted his head, then chuckled. “Don’t worry, take your time. I’m paying, of course.”

You let out a small laugh, trying to shake off your nerves. “I mean, you usually pay when you’re on a date.”

That’s when you saw it.

The way Reo’s smile faltered, his ears turning pink as he suddenly looked a lot more nervous than before.

“Um,” he started, rubbing the back of his neck.

You blinked.

Then it hit you.

“Oh.”

Oh.

And suddenly, the restaurant, the violinist, and the fancy setup all made sense. Your heart pounded.

“I like you, Y/N,” Reo said softly, meeting your gaze. “A lot.”

And then he asked you out. You stared at him, warmth creeping into your chest. He had no idea how unnecessary all of this was. You didn’t need expensive dates or fancy meals. You just needed him.

You smiled, reaching for his hand across the table. His ears burned, but his fingers laced with yours all the same. Yeah. This was more than nice.

Little did you know what you got yourself into.

—

"Reo, what is all this?" you asked, staring at the bags upon bags of high-end brands sitting on your bed. Chanel, Loro Piana, Versache, brands you had only ever admired from afar.

"Clothes," he said simply, plopping down next to you.

"Yeah, I see that," you deadpanned. "But why?"

Reo blinked. "You needed new outfits, right?"

You frowned. "I never said that."

"Yeah, but I noticed you keep wearing the same hoodie," he pointed out.

Your face burned. That was because you couldn’t afford to buy multiple jackets just for fun.

"...Reo, I can’t accept all of this," you said, voice small.

Reo tilted his head. "Why not?"

"Because it’s too much!"

Reo looked genuinely confused, as if the concept of too much had never once occurred to him in his life. "But I like buying things for you."

You groaned, face in your hands. How were you supposed to argue with that?

“Besides,” He smirked, pulling out something from a pink shopping bag with the Victoria's Secret logo on it. “I really wanna see you in this.”

—

“Let’s go on a casual date” Reo texted you one morning. You agreed. But you forgot that Reo had a habit of dragging you into stores you would never set foot in on your own.

Today, it was a jewelry store.

"Uh, Babe?" you said hesitantly, eyeing the five-star building like it might bite.

"Yeah?" he smiled.

"...You said casual."

"This is casual."

"For who?!"

"Pick something," he said nonchalantly, gesturing at the glittering displays.

You nearly choked on air. "Pick something?"

"Yeah, anything you want."

Your eyes darted to the price tags. Five digits.

You gulped. "I don’t—"

"Okay, what about this?" He grabbed a delicate bracelet with small diamonds embedded in the band. "It would look so pretty on you."

Your heart raced. "That’s like... a semester of tuition."

He blinked. "Huh? Oh, don’t worry about that."

"Reo."

You gave him the most exasperated look you could muster. Reo sighed dramatically. "Fine, fine. We don’t have to buy anything. I just wanted to spoil you a little."

You softened. He looked so disappointed. You reached for his hand, squeezing it gently. "You already do. You don’t need to spend money for that."

Reo’s ears turned pink, and for once, he was the one flustered.

"...You’re unfair," he mumbled.

—

"Hey, want to go on a trip?" Reo asked one day.

You nodded. "Oh, that sounds nice. Maybe a little road trip? A weekend getaway?"

"Yeah, something like that," he hummed.

Again—you should have known better.

You found yourself in a luxury resort, with an ocean view suite, a private pool, and a staff that treated you like royalty.

"Reo," you whispered as you took in the sheer opulence of the place.

"Yeah?" he smiled, setting your bags down.

"...What part of this is a little weekend getaway?"

He blinked. "All of it?"

—

You were sitting on the couch, stomach grumbling, when Reo stretched and said, "Wanna eat? I can call the chef."

You snorted. "Yeah okay, sure."

Reo blinked. "Okay, I’ll text him now."

You froze.

"...Wait, what."

Reo, already on his phone, looked up. "What?"

"You’re serious?"

"Yeah?."

You stared at him like he just told you the sky was orange. "REO, NORMAL PEOPLE DO NOT HAVE PRIVATE CHEFS."

Reo tilted his head. "So no to the food?"

You groaned, burying your face in a pillow. "This is insane."

Thirty minutes later, a chef arrived and prepared a meal better than anything you had ever tasted.

"...Okay, fine," you admitted. "Maybe this is a little cool."

Reo just smirked. "Told ya."

—

You and Reo went grocery shopping for fun. (His idea. Because "normal couple stuff is cute!")

Everything was going great until you realized something.

Reo never. Looked. At the price tags.

Not once.

You tested it, watching as he grabbed the most expensive imported strawberries without even glancing at the cost.

"Reo."

"Yeah?" he said, tossing some fancy-looking truffle pasta into the cart.

"Do you even know how much that costs?"

Reo shrugged. "I dunno. Does it matter?"

"Yes it matter??"

"...Oh," he blinked, genuinely confused. "I just grab whatever looks good."

You grabbed his shoulders dramatically. "What is it like to live in your world?"

Reo laughed, kissing your forehead. "Pretty nice, actually. You should stay in it forever."

—

"Reo, can you pick me up after class?" you texted.

"Of course! 😊" he replied.

Simple. Easy. No big deal.

Except when you walked outside, there was a Porsche waiting for you.

You stared at it.

Then at Reo, standing next to it, waving enthusiastically.

Then back at the Porsche .

"Reo."

"Yeah?" he blinked.

"Why is there a Porsche 918 Spyder?"

"Because you needed a ride?" he said innocently. “...and the keys to the Ferrari were too far.”

"I meant a normal ride in a regular car." You said which was dumnb now that you thought about it because the Mikages don’t own anything normal.

"But this is more comfortable," he said, opening the door like a prince.

—

You were having a rough week, stressed from school and life.

Reo noticed.

So he handed you an envelope with a sweet little note attached:

"For my love! Hope this makes your day better. 💜"

You smiled, touched by the gesture. Then you opened it.

And nearly had a heart attack.

"Why is there 750,000 yen?"

He blinked. "It’s just a small gift?"

"Small?"

Reo frowned. "Do you want more?"

You groaned, throwing yourself onto the couch. "No!"

Reo laughed and kissed your cheek. "Well, you are priceless to me, so..."

—

You jokingly told Reo he needed to learn about budgeting.

Big mistake.

Because the next day, he proudly showed you his "budget plan" on his phone.

You read it.

And then you screamed.

"Babe, this is not a budget."

"Yes, it is!" he huffed.

"WHO SPENDS $10,000 A MONTH ON ‘MISCELLANEOUS FUN’??"

"...Rich people?"

"REO, THAT’S NOT HOW BUDGETING WORKS."

He pouted. "I don’t like this budgeting thing."

—

One day, Reo casually said, "Hey, let’s fly somewhere for the weekend."

And without thinking, you replied, "Yeah, sure, where?"

There was a pause.

Then Reo smirked. "Oh? You’re not even gonna fight me on it this time?"

You froze.

"...Oh my god. You’ve corrupted me."

Reo just pulled you into his arms, laughing. "Nah. You’re just finally living like a Mikage."

You laughed at him. "Pft, living like a Mikage?"

"Yep," Reo grinned. "Took you long enough."

You crossed your arms. "Well yeah, at some point I just gave up."

He shrugged, wrapping an arm around your waist. "Might as well make it official, then."

You blinked. "Official?"

Reo smirked. "If you married me."

Your face heated up and you nearly choked. "Reo."

"What?" he laughed. "Think about it. Unlimited spending, luxury vacations, and—oh yeah—me. Forever. Pretty good deal, right?"

You shoved him playfully. "Ask me again when you don’t sound like you’re trying to sell me a subscription plan."

Reo chuckled, pulling you closer. "Fine, fine. But just so you know... when I actually propose you’re not allowed to complain about how much I spend on it."

#reo x reader #reo mikage x reader #blue lock reo #bllk #blue lock #mikage reo #reo mikage #bllk reo #reo mikage x you #x reader

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jazeswhbhaven · 7 months ago

Text

He Can Match Your Freak | Asmodeus Selfie Spoilers

OKAY sooo FINALLY I'm posting this lol it's probably going to be like two parts maybe??? Let's see how this goes because I'm learning to not post thousands of screenshots unless it's relevant.

First. I'm skipping the prologue because most have seen it, and I'm doing a different thing with that anyway.

SOOO it's gonna be a crash course ya'll with jumping right in when MC is in his room about to get them cheeks clapped.

He wants to know more about MC because of what he's heard and well he wouldn't be wrong here. MC apparently is quite the deviant. And you can tell the writers tried to describe him as majestic and breathtaking as possible because the way MC sees him is similar to how they see Leviathan.

Until they said this mess.

G I R L WH A T

Even Asmo was like ???? But he has a sense of humor so he just laughed it off which I mean okay yes as if he would care about that phrase being weird.

But MC out here actin' up once a g a i n. lol

But also they mention his body odor keeps wafting over in MC's nose clearly yeah because not only them pheromones' but uh anyways we'll get to that part later

And MC was just like covering their nose and is like "this is dangerous" and for me ya'll?

I'd be afraid to offend him by saying he smells ripe which I'm sure he wouldn't be offended because I'm not sure what would offend him at this point in time.

So big boi puts a sigil on MC's body similar to a womb tattoo which is why he said "be surprised you aren't pregnant" but this symbol makes you into his "female" no matter the gender. He goes to say it nicely that you're his "virgin" though.

And with that, most of what's happening is that MC is feeling the effects of Asmo without him even doing much of anything just yet. The feelings of having climaxed multiple times over, hazy, losing your goddamn mind.

That sort of thing.

Baby I would have cried on the spot. What do you mean be your companion?

Yup he asked MC to not only be his one night stand but to basically be his and that he thinks he could fall in love with them.

He says that he can fall in love at first sight despite his reputation. And also he mentions MC is his third love. First was Solomon (rejected him and wouldn't tell him who it is he was in love with) and two his late wife who was a witch and it's their children/descendants who are the Unholyc that inhabit Earth.

I'mma be honest with ya'll I didn't finish Lovely Unholyc because I was mostly interested in William, there was no route for him at that time so I just kinda dipped, tried again and then dipped lol

oh btw he apparently just straight up wanted to yap about him clapping Solomon's cheeks and getting his cheeks clapped back and how many damn positions they did and I'm trying to wrap my head around what the fuck they did because at one point surely they were on the ceiling or floating mid-air, like I don't even know

But his wife who chose to live on Earth and grow old and die normally put a curse on his soul. He can love and fuck whoever he wants and should never be lonely but he can't have any more children. If he does, they die, and he dies along with the partner he made them with. (the fall of the house of usher vibes)

AND let me just say? That woman did the world a favor because he has a breeding kink. We'd have a whole universe full of little Asmo halflings running around. So either it was her being possessive or just her sparing the world of that burden then yeah thank you for that because phew.

i don't need no babies anyways

And he says the same thing like "Oh we can leave other things other than babies, like photos of us in a mess" meaning he really meant when he said he wanted to participate in the contest.

I mean he would have won so I think it's fair to give the others a chance. Lol

So things are getting hot and heavy now and he's wondering why MC is holding back. Honestly I'm like huh he did say that he turns you into a virgin and not everyone is confident when being presented with the chance of a lifetime to fuck the embodiment of lust.

But at the same time I mean...MC this is your element and you are pretty much striking out. (not to him but to me you are)

SO I complied all of these because this is important. Asmodeus is literally combining all of their philias and using them on MC and he's quite good at it. And well, why wouldn't he be?

And he even goes to strangle and lick up MCs tears?

Yeah we know what he's about.

His tongue did what now?

his tongue did what now

his tongooooooooooooo

Anyways I short circuited there because everything about him is just driving me nuts.

MC even said they were coming by him just kissing them and I'm like hold up??????

I fucking bet.

Okay ya'll picked the nastiest ass stuff for him to mention but I get it. Congrats if ya'll have things you're self conscious about during sex Asmo's your demon because he literally won't care and will still be turned on.

Ayo.

Moving on....LMAO

And uh...Asmo was licking MC's snot and spit off their face and they came again.

I'm drowning in a sensory nightmare why is he so h o t but this is nastttyyyyyy

"I can always go hard whenever I feel like fucking the opponent"

Sir what? He just be sayin' anything

But he does ask MC what do they want...and they just smack the fuck out of him so there's that. Lol

I would tell him I'd very much like that mouth on the kewchie. I don't even need anything else just his mouth. His jaw probably can go for days.

Now MC is making deduction here that Asmo is the king of lust and seduction and can pass this feeling on to others. He's dangerous this way.

Now Asmo how do you know that.

Tell me sir HOW (I think I know the answer....but I'd be hella surprised that Belphie would let him hit unless he was watching him...)

But mostly what's happening is that MC is feeling what Asmo feels basically the same spiel as the other kings except with him it's intense to the point where they are quite literally about to pass the fuck out. And Asmo ain't about to stop momentum so you better stay awake MC.

NOW YA'LL.

Bullet point times:

MC has climaxed pretty much several times and they haven't even fucked properly yet

But wait, their clothes are off and....

Bam they notice that Asmo's cock is pretty much halfway in their hole and they haven't even noticed

All he did was push himself to the hilt and MC squirted ya'll

So there's that.

But the womb tattoo is doing it's job because now the climaxes are back to back, and I'm just wondering how the hell MC is still mentally there because I'd be a babbling mess.

Yes daddy.

he makes me SICK (lovingly)

But also they mention the liquid he was feeding MC had a horrible smell and I'm just like oh fucking gawd please get rid of my sense of smell before sleeping with him because I would not make it. Why is everything having to do with him smell so much? LOL

LMAO

MC was begging for his dick and Asmo is like, baby it's already in are you okay?

I'm crying

Yeah remember those memes about people getting high and saying they were vacuuming the dishes?

I imagine that's what it's like having sex with him. One minute you're on the bed next you're in another dimension, floating, transcending, melting, legs bent in impossible shapes. Indeed I am mopping the lawn.

He even mentioned they've done it like six times already and he's just getting started.

with a face like that? phew.

Oh so he does have a good pull out game.

btw the visual for that???? GAWDDDDDDD -> look here

So let me back up a bit and mention that MC was feeling insecure that since they have been doing it for quite some time (2 days I think?) they thought he wasn't satisfied. Nah he was just savoring the moment. He could come at any time. ANd when he does? It's alot and from his horn and everything. Cum fountain.

And best part? No refractory period. He's already hard and slamming that thang back in.

Also he mentions here that there's a smell, and he's getting really worked up.

Yeah he's tearing that up. Like it's overtime ya'll.

There's purple smoke and a erotic aura in the air, he's grabbing and biting down on the back of MC's neck to claim them? Oh he's going in.

Alright here we go.

And just so ya'll know...sorry male MC players....the same line is used in ya'lls version too. No change.

This is the point where I would of preferred perhaps something else be said entirely instead. I know the majority of players are women/non-men but...I can see someone playing and getting side swept like?????

But anyways let's move on past this point

Until the room stank is an understatement.

But anyways, while MC is trying to somewhat calm down, Asmo is still trying to keep the momentum. And MC starts trying to have a normal conversation and figuring out why devil's fear him the most.

But also mentioned they wanted to shove his nasty, greasy, bodily fluid covered hair up their hole. E x c u s e the fuck outta me?

AN Y W AY S

Mc figures that the reason the devils fear him is because of this. Imagine falling for someone like this? Who is nothing but the sole reason existence of lust and temptation where you could fuck for hours and reach pleasure centers unknown and yet have that all be taken away when he leaves? There's no love? No sweet nothings? Just being used up and tossed without any direction and you're just in the dark?

welp.

But Asmo does offer MC some comfort

He tells them that he's back in Hell so he will be around more often. It won't be painful, that it's okay to start slow and that MC would wait for him when he's ready to fully accept his feelings. He could fall in love with them not that he was already in love with them. But with how he's considering him as a companion, how he's biting and claiming them, the amount of time he's spending with MC.

mind you he left Phenomenon on the floor the moment he entered the meeting room so I imagine they weren't fucking for very long at all. I imagine all of his sessions with others are "quick" and for those he really likes they last longggg like days.

Not mention he on that yandere vibes....telling MC he'd lock them up in a cage but he'll deal with it for now.

And apparently when he gives a sincere command, it must be followed. So MC basically ends up getting dressed, not whining about leaving, and all that good stuff. A true dom in that sense.

Also he mentions that when he's nearby MC will just get turned on automatically. "Your body will scream that your man is here"

why is that so hot?

So MC is back in Gehenna and this is when Asmo starts reminiscing about Solomon who predicted that he'd see MC in the future and that he would know that he feels at the moment for Solomon is not 'love'.

I wonder if Asmodeus was just helplessly losing himself for Solomon, and pepaw clocked that and was just telling him to chill on it for a bit. Although it is fucking WI L D to me that he is going to try this again with his friend's descendant..."hey I'm a friend of your grandpa...soooo yeah let's fuck and fall in love"

Sounds weird when I put that way huh? lol

Also since we're at the end I'd like to highlight some personality things about him!

He plays too much: Taking a photo of himself and MC sleeping and sending it to Satan knowing he'd storm immediately to the room

He doesn't have self doubt, he is very much full of himself but is considerate of his partner given the circumstances

He is not into aftercare, he claims that part is included during the sex, if sex is over then it's over

He doesn't shower ya'll. Like at all. But he oddly keeps his nails clean and that's about it? He seems to be obsessed with sex funk

He really likes Mammon. Like a lot. But he does that thing where he's like "Nah I want him to want me so I won't give him what he wants" lol okay

He fucks pillows, pretty much inanimate objects if he feels like it

He has a sense of humor

Romance is not absent, it's just tricky for him since all that's all his brain is "breed breed breed breed sex sex sex breed breed breed oh lets pause for a break sex sex sex kissing sex sex breeding biting"

He loves his children though. He really is a fatherly devil. He beams about his kids and this is a moment where you can catch him not being sexual

It comes to no surprise that he doesn't like the idea of sharing his favorite person but it has me think that his style of relationship is that he's monogamous but if you want to occasionally bring someone to "play" with he won't mind as long as it's discussed and he gets to fuck them too

He's got a one track mind, but it's not like he can't carry on a conversation

Now for my

T H E O R I E S

Asmo is older than all of the kings, but younger than Lucifer

I am reaching in the dark but it seems the only King he's had sex with or has watched have sex is Belphie

He's only in love with MC because he's taking a opportunity that wasn't given to him with Solomon

There's most likely a loophole to his curse that his late wife left on him but he simply chooses not to break it

If the Kings fight together along with Asmodeus, the war would be over, and if we ever get a final battle chapter it's going to be MC who is the missing "key" and the one who figures that out is Asmo because he spent so much time with Solomon

We may get a cameo from one of his children in the story

Asmodeus is possibly capable of lying and just hasn't revealed that to anyone. I say this because if he was one of the very early devils created he is the exception to the rule. So there could be some secret he knows.

BUT wow it seems that I have compiled ALL of this into one post. YAY FOR ME. Now there may be more little blurbs popping up as I remember them but for nowwwwww~ Thank you for reading, hopefully you grabbed some snacks, and ya'll are amazing. Feel free to let me know ya'lls thoughts if you haven't said already on our stinky hot devil man <3 lol

#whb #what in hell is bad #whb asmodeus #whb spoilers #whb screenshots #jazewhbreacts🖤

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eclipse-msoul · 18 days ago

Text

"Aren't you an adorable little thing? "

It was a chilling night in every cruel city of Gotham. The shadows had surrounded every street, every corner with a dark tint - not a soul was on the street, well except the vigilantes that protected mother Gotham like her children.

It was getting late, about to strike four am in the early morning. Three vigilantes made their way home. Their footsteps were silent hoping not to wake the innocent woman whose laughter had spread joy into their life.

“ So you've all returned from your night duty…” A familiar quiet whisper and they turned. Blue shocked eyes along with the shade of green turned from wide and alert to warm and relaxed. A sigh escaped the eldest lips. “ Phew, you really scared us there Alfred.”

“ Correction, you got scared, Dickhead.” The second eldest grunted, “ Morning Alfred.”

“ Good morning Master Jason. It seems you finally decided to return early for once.” Alfrd remarked, nudging Jason of his disapproval of staying out of home for so many days.

“ oh, yeah..” Jason stammered, “ Sorry.”

Alfred raised his brow, did the child finally learn to apologize?

Jaosn broke his fantasies into two.

“ It was Dick head's fault!”

“ Jay-” Dick gasped, dramatically, “ How could you!”

“ What Dick got your head- or did your name get your dick? Quit trying to act innocent.” Jason grinned. Oh, Alfred could recognize that smirk anywhere.

The third brother scoated, his body stiffer than anything. His cracking steps caught everyone's attention. Tim let out a yawn, “ I'm going to work on my cases.” Dick and Jason made eye contact, their fight stopping mid way. “ Oh, no you don't you brat.”

Dick came in front of his tired brother and flicked his finger on Tim’s forehead. “ You're heading to bed, little wing.” he said, bending down to his height.

Tim gave his brother an annoyed glance , a sigh came out, “The files aren't going to solve themselves.” Oh, Dick and Jason were not not having it.

“ And you are going to be in an early grave. You want to die so badly? I can make it happen, you know replacement?” Jason spoke. Dick crossed his hand in front of Jason. “ He's right Timmy. You need sleep.”

His blue eyes glanced his younger brother with concern and Tim felt suffocated.

His head turned towards the butler. “Alfred-”his eyes were exhausted, one could make out those terrible black circles that formed over the past days. Alfred gave him an unamused look, “ Off to bed sir.”

“Fine..” Tim grunted, taking off his mask and walking away.

Alfred skillfully caught the tossed mask thrown his way. His eyes were elegant stern, “ Wait.”

Tim's checking feat stops and he looks at Alfred tired. Letting out a yawn, Alfred was not amused. “ Your phone master Tim if you will.” Tim groaned.

“ But-”

“No but sir-”

“Alfred-”

“Master Tim.”

Tim handed over his phone and electronic Jason ratted out to Alfred about. Finally after being thoroughly inspected he could be left alone.

Dick and Jason had gone to their rooms to sleep. Tim didn't want to sleep but his access to the cave was currently in Alfred's hand. He could easily get it but he respected Alfred too much for that.

“ Stupid brothers…” He muffled.

He walked aimlessly through the Wayne Mansion hallways, his eyes glancing up and down the old portraits and artifacts the path decorated. Everything was so out of life, so dull and dread.

He wanted to get back to his work so badly.

“Hmms”

And his feet stopped.

He looked up, and saw himself standing in front of your door. The door was the familiar, warm colour, drawing him in. His head unintentionally came closer and soon it was touching your door frame.

He could make out your snores.

You sounded so peaceful.

" Timmy?" You mumbled half asleep, he his wiped up and he stared daze. Your eyes sinned him from up to down. " Didn't sleep yet ?"

" I wasn't tried."

" Were you?"

He didn't reply.

You sighed under a smile. Tapping on your bed you spoke. " Come here. " He was hesitant but you were always patient with him.

Slowly he made his way to your bed and sat down. Your arm grabbed him neck and pulled him closer. " Goodnight. "you hummed before going back to sleep.

Your hand remained patting on his back. And he felt like he was twelve again - Falling in your arms to a deep sleep.

In the morning, if your favourite chocolates were placed on the table of your bedroom. You definitely didn't send Tim a smile and a big hug.

Giggle-

He could be such an adorable nephew sometimes.

#yandere batfam x reader #yandere batboys #eclipse_msoul yapping #platonic yandere #yandere batfamily

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wbbfannnnnn13 · 1 month ago

Text

Almost, Always - Chapter 8

paige x azzi

Previous Chapters: Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7

A/N: Phew, this chapter was A LOT, but I had so much fun writing it... this is definitely the longest chapter so far! Hope you like it, heads up, angst has re-entered the chat... and thank you anons for the responses, the live reactions, and love <3

WC: 4.6k+

Chapter 8 – Rumor Has It

The last month had felt different—in the best possible way. Ever since Paige had shown up to see Azzi, something between them had shifted. Not in big, sweeping, dramatic ways, but in the quiet, intentional moments that stuck. Paige had made a decision, not just to love Azzi, but to do it fully, out loud. Her conversation with Coach Geno had peeled something open in her, and that post—the one that had felt like leaping off a cliff—hadn’t just been a gesture. It had been a promise. She didn’t want to be stuck in “almost” anymore. Not with Azzi. Not when it had started to feel like everything she’d ever wanted was finally right in front of her.

She wanted to stay in the bubble that existed when it was just them—safe, soft, and theirs. But that wasn’t how life worked, not when they were both professional basketball players in different cities. So she went back to Dallas, even though her chest ached the moment she left Azzi’s arms at the airport.

Still, even from a distance, Paige had made the choice to keep showing up. To be better. To be braver. She started leaving flirtatious comments on Azzi’s Instagram posts, reposting TikToks that subtly hinted she was taken, letting her affection spill into the parts of her public life she used to keep guarded. She wasn’t making any grand announcements, but she wasn’t hiding anymore either. And that alone felt like a breakthrough. For the first time, Paige wasn’t living in fear of what people might say.

Sure, there were trolls, as always, but most fans embraced it. Some had been rooting for them for years. Back in college, their teammates used to laugh at the fan-made edits and shipping videos—compilations of lingering looks, casual touches, shared smiles that fans swore meant more. And they were right. Paige never denied it, not to herself, not to Azzi, not even to the speculating fans. They’d been together for a long time. They just had to keep it private—same team, same spotlight, too much at stake. But she couldn’t hide the way Azzi affected her, how her posture softened, how her guard dropped, how everything in her leaned toward Azzi without thinking. It had always been that way.

At a recent press conference, when a reporter brought up the photo of her in Azzi’s jersey leaving the arena, she hadn’t dodged the question. “I’ve got someone really special in my life,” she said, smiling into the mic. “And I think people are smart enough to figure that out.”

She’d watched the clip later and, for once, didn’t cringe the way she usually did. Instead, she felt something lighter. Like she was finally showing Azzi the kind of love she deserved in every space, not just the private ones. There was something about hearing her own voice echo through a press room—no dodging, no deflecting—that made her feel braver than she’d expected. She hadn’t stumbled over her words. She hadn’t laughed nervously or looked away. She’d stood there and said it softly, simply, but clearly.

Later that night, the clip played again, this time over FaceTime. Azzi’s face lit up as she watched it, her mouth tugging into a slow smile.

“Damn,” Azzi said, eyes still on the screen, a slow smile creeping across her face. “You really said that? On camera?”

“I did,” Paige said, grinning, propped up on one elbow in bed, her phone resting against her knee. “Impressed?”

Azzi tilted her head, playful, the corners of her mouth tugging upward. “A little turned on, honestly.”

Paige laughed, the sound low and easy. “Yeah? You like when I get all brave and emotionally well-adjusted in public?”

“Kind of a kink I didn’t know I had,” Azzi teased, eyes flicking back to the screen for a second. “Who knew press conference Paige would do it for me.”

“Just wait till you see what I say next time,” Paige said, stretching out with a smug little smirk. “Might start reciting poetry about your ass if a reporter gives me an opening.”

Azzi laughed, shaking her head as she tucked her blanket up under her arms. Then her expression softened, just slightly, voice quieter. “Seriously, though. That meant a lot. I know you didn’t have to say anything.”

“I wanted to,” Paige said, her tone solid and sure, no hesitation anywhere in her voice.

There was a pause, a quiet stretch between them filled with soft static and unspoken feeling. Azzi exhaled, almost like she’d been holding her breath. Her gaze stayed steady on the screen. “I love you, you know.”

Paige smiled, a warm, slow curve of her lips. “I know.”

Another beat passed, heavier this time, and then Paige shifted slightly, voice dipping just a little lower. “So… what are you wearing?”

Azzi burst out laughing, dropping her head back against the pillow. “Oh my god. Seriously?”

“What?” Paige said, eyes wide with fake innocence. “I was being vulnerable. And now I’m horny. These things can coexist. And you did say you just discovered a new kink.”

Azzi shook her head, still laughing, her hand dragging down her face. “Maybe, but we are not having phone sex.”

“You say that like it hasn’t happened before.”

Azzi groaned dramatically, covering her face with both hands. “That was one time.”

“It was three times.”

“Two and a half. That last one barely counted. My neighbor started vacuuming halfway through.”

“Still counts. I was committed.”

“You were aggressively horny,” Azzi said, peeking at her through her fingers. “There’s a difference.”

“I’m just trying to create intimacy across distance,” Paige said, voice mock-serious.

“You’re trying to get me to take my shirt off.”

“That too.”

Azzi narrowed her eyes at the screen, half amused, half exasperated. “You’re like a teenage boy.”

“Not true. I have emotional depth and a skincare routine.”

Azzi laughed again, deeper this time, settling back against her pillow like she’d surrendered to the chaos. “You’re ridiculous.”

“But you love me.”

“Unfortunately.”

“You wanna see what I’m not wearing?”

“No. Go to sleep.”

“You’re no fun.”

______________________________________________________________

Neither of them said it out loud much, but the season had been brutal.

Both the Wings and the Mystics were teetering on the edge of playoff contention—just enough hope to keep pushing, just enough pressure to make everything feel like it might snap. Every win mattered. Every mistake felt heavier. Their schedules were chaos: back-to-backs, cross-country flights, film sessions bleeding into treatment, treatment bleeding into practice. Sleep was fragmented. Time zones blurred. They were always packing, always moving, always squeezing in calls between meetings or on the bus or while icing knees.

Still, they were making it work. Somehow, between the madness, they kept finding each other. Late-night FaceTimes, middle-of-the-day check-ins, a photo sent from the training room, a voicemail waiting after a rough game. Small things, steady things. They knew what this life demanded, but they weren’t getting lost in it. They’d built something strong enough to hold under pressure. It wasn’t perfect, but it didn’t have to be. They were showing up for each other, over and over. That counted for a lot.

They’d been talking about the off-season too. Where they might spend it, how they could actually exist in the same city for more than stolen weekends. Paige had even surprised herself with how often the thought crept in—marriage. Paige hadn’t expected that, not at this point in her life. She used to roll her eyes when people her age talked about forever like it was some milestone you could pencil in. She figured she’d be older, more settled before she even considered it. But here she was, catching herself wondering what kind of ring Azzi would like, where they’d live, what their future might actually look like when the noise faded and it was just the two of them.

Lately, though, it wasn’t just the idea of marriage circling in her head, it was the logistics. When would be the right time? How could she even pull off a proposal without Azzi catching on? Azzi noticed everything. A whole proposal? That would take planning, real planning. And then there was the matter of asking Azzi’s parents. She’d never been big on tradition, but that part felt important. It mattered. She wanted to do it right.

The problem was time. Their schedules were chaos; practice, games, recovery, repeat. There was no room to breathe, let alone coordinate a proposal or fly across the country to talk to Tim and Katie face-to-face, the way she wanted to. She couldn’t exactly wedge that in between shootaround and film review. But the thought kept pressing in. And ever since she’d gone public with their relationship, it was like something inside her had burst open, a dam broken, love rushing out in ways she hadn’t expected. She’d spent so long keeping it quiet, protecting it, holding it in her hands like something fragile. But now, it moved through everything. It showed up in her daydreams, in the space between texts, in the way she stared at Azzi through a screen and already pictured a whole life ahead of them.

It wasn’t a question of if anymore. Just when, how, and whether she could manage to keep it a secret long enough to make it special.

She wouldn’t say anything. Not yet. Not directly.

Well—almost not. One night during a sleepy FaceTime call, Paige had nearly let it slip.

Azzi had been curled up in bed, bonnet and glasses on, rambling about a new recipe she’d ruined and laughing at herself. Paige had just been staring at her. Utterly gone.

"You’re such a dork," Paige teased, grinning.

Azzi squinted playfully at the camera. "Oh, please. You love it."

"I do," Paige said, almost too softly. Then, without thinking, "God, I can’t wait to mar—"

She stopped herself, eyes going wide.

Azzi raised a brow. "Marry…?"

Paige cleared her throat and quickly backpedaled. "Marinate! I meant… marinate. Like, I can’t wait to marinate in this moment." She winced the moment the words left her mouth.

Azzi burst out laughing, full and unfiltered. "You’re a terrible liar, P."

Paige’s face turned pink. "Okay, okay. Maybe that wasn’t what I meant."

Azzi just smiled, a softness settling into her expression. "You’re cute when you panic."

"You’re cute all the time," Paige said, more serious now. "And maybe I’ll tell you what I really meant… someday."

Azzi’s heart skipped, but she didn’t push. "I’ll be waiting.”

______________________________________________________________

As fate would have it, Tim and Katie were in Dallas for a youth basketball camp they were helping to run. Paige hadn’t planned to see them—not yet, not until she had a ring or a plan or at least a speech that didn’t make her palms sweat, but when she found out they were in town, something in her just said go. No more overthinking. No perfect moment. Just the right people, close by, and a chance she didn’t want to miss.

She texted Katie that morning, asking if they had time to grab coffee before their afternoon session. A few hours later, they met at a quiet café just a few blocks from the arena, one of those tucked-away places with mismatched chairs, soft lighting, and the smell of fresh espresso in the air. When Paige spotted them walking in, hand in hand, both smiling like they hadn’t aged a day since Azzi’s high school games, her stomach flipped. Nerves surged up fast, sharp and sudden, like she’d just been subbed into a fourth-quarter tie game.

She stood to hug them, trying to play it cool, trying to keep her hands from shaking as she picked up her coffee again. They talked easily for a while about basketball, the camp, how exhausted the kids were after day one, how brutal the league schedule had been lately. Paige nodded along, smiled in all the right places, even made them laugh a few times. But the whole time, the real reason she’d asked them here was pressing hard against her ribs, loud and persistent.

The words were there, sitting on her tongue, pulsing behind every breath. Ask them. Just ask. Her heart thudded harder every time the conversation dipped, every time there was a lull where she could have said it. And finally, after one of those soft pauses—the kind where time stretches just long enough to make you brave—she set her coffee cup down gently on the table, took a breath, and looked up at them.

Katie’s eyes met hers first, warm and expectant. Tim leaned in slightly, sensing the shift in energy.

And Paige spoke.

"I want to marry your daughter," she said, voice soft but sincere. "I love her—you already know that. I want to be the one standing beside her for the rest of our lives. I want to build a future with her, and before I take that step, I wanted to come to you both first. It matters to me, to have your blessing, your support."

The table fell quiet for a beat. Then Katie’s eyes welled instantly, her hand reaching across the table for Paige’s.

"Paige, of course. We’ve always considered you part of the family, but to have you officially? Nothing would make us happier."

Tim nodded, his voice firm and full of warmth. "You’ve been there for her in ways no one else has. You’re good for her. You’ve always been good for her. We’d be proud to call you our daughter, too."

Paige blinked fast, her chest swelling with emotion. It was one thing to dream about a life with Azzi—something she’d done a thousand times before, in quiet moments, in lonely hotel rooms, in the back of team buses. But it was another thing entirely to feel it beginning to take shape, to see it mirrored back in the warmth of Azzi’s parents’ eyes, in their unwavering support, in the unspoken understanding that this love wasn’t a phase or a secret. It was real. It was solid. It was hers. The moment wrapped around her like a promise, filling spaces in her heart she hadn’t even known were empty. For the first time, it didn’t feel like reaching for something fragile and far away. It felt close. It felt possible. It felt like home.

When she walked out of the café that afternoon, the sun was warm on her skin and her heart felt fuller than it had in a long time. A ring wasn’t in her pocket yet, but the promise had settled in her bones.

It had felt so solid. So safe. Paige let herself believe that finally she could have this. Have her. No almost, but actually. Not fleeting, not temporary. Just the kind of love that was whole and steady and real. The kind of love that didn’t need to hide in the shadows or settle for halfway.

____________________________________________________________

For Azzi, the last month had been just as transformative, but not by accident. She’d given Paige an ultimatum. Not out of cruelty, and not because she didn’t love her, but because she couldn’t keep shrinking herself to fit into the quiet corners of someone else’s life. She’d hit her limit. She’d told Paige, plainly, I can’t keep doing this in the dark. Either they moved forward—fully, publicly, honestly—or they didn’t move forward at all.

And afterward, Azzi had carried the weight of it. She didn’t regret what she’d said, but there was guilt tucked into the edges of it. She knew how much pressure Paige was already under, how exhausting the season was, how tightly she held everything together. But part of her also knew Paige needed the push. Someone had to draw the line. Someone had to say: This love deserves to live in the light.

And to her surprise—maybe even her relief—Paige didn’t pull away. She stepped in. Stepped up. Fully. Something in her had clicked, and suddenly it wasn’t just words anymore. It was action. It was the way she posted the photo of them without hesitation. The way she said I’ve got someone special in my life in a press conference and didn’t flinch. The way she looked into cameras and didn’t hide anymore.

Azzi felt the shift in everything. In how Paige texted. In how she talked. In how she made space, even from across the country. Every post, every comment, every glance in an interview felt like a thread being pulled tighter between them. Paige wasn’t just loving her in private anymore. She was choosing her out loud. Claiming her. And it hit Azzi deeper than she’d expected—not because she hadn’t hoped for it, but because part of her had stopped letting herself believe it would ever happen.

It made her heart race in the best way, but it also made her ache with the weight of hope. Because for the first time, she wasn’t holding this relationship together alone. Paige was building it with her—sturdy, intentional, brick by brick. This wasn’t just survival anymore. It was a future.

They talked more. They laughed more. And even in the middle of Azzi’s chaotic rookie season, long flights, brutal back-to-backs, the steep learning curve of the league, they were doing better than ever. Stronger. Closer. There was clarity now, and steadiness. Paige had made a choice, and Azzi felt it in everything they did.

So when Paige started hinting about spending the off-season together—half-jokes about shared closets, casual comments about finding a place—Azzi let herself fall into it. She didn’t hold herself back. She let herself imagine the mornings, the grocery runs, the softness of a home they didn’t have to leave every weekend. A life that wasn’t just borrowed time.

And then one night, Paige said it. Not directly. Not even deliberately. But it slipped out, low and casual, like the thought had already lived in her for weeks. She let the words “I can’t wait to marry” replay again and again in her head, each time hitting a little deeper. And even though Paige tried to backpedal the second she realized what she’d said, Azzi had already felt it, the truth behind it, the certainty. That throwaway line had cracked something open in her. Quietly, completely, undeniably.

And maybe that was the part that mattered most.

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

And then came the rumor.

It started quietly, just a blurry photo posted by an anonymous account. A shot of Paige walking out of a Dallas restaurant, laughing with a woman Azzi didn’t recognize. The lighting was soft, the woman's hand lightly on Paige's arm. Azzi stared at it for a long time, longer than she wanted to admit, heart sinking slowly in her chest. She told herself it was nothing. It had to be nothing. But still, she looked again.

And it didn’t stop there.

The rumors picked up speed, spreading fast and sharp. Speculation turned into commentary, commentary turned into assumptions. Then came the twist—another anonymous account posted an old video, grainy and clearly shot in a dimly lit college bar. Paige, visibly drunk, was pressed against another woman—someone Azzi had never seen before, but who clearly wasn’t just a stranger passing by. They were laughing, dancing, touching—close and familiar. At one point, the girl kissed Paige’s neck, and Paige didn’t flinch. She smiled. She pulled her closer.

The clip was dated—sophomore year for Paige, freshman year for Azzi. Before they were official. Before things were solid. But none of that softened the sting. Because Azzi remembered exactly what led to that night. The fight they’d had. The silence that followed. The feeling that maybe Paige hadn’t taken any of it as seriously as she had. And now, years later, watching it unfold again through a stranger’s camera lens, it cut deeper than she expected.

They’d just finished a brutal afternoon practice—legs heavy, shirts soaked, everything aching in the way that felt earned. Paige and Azzi walked side by side, still catching their breath, laughing at something stupid one of the assistant coaches had said. It was one of those in-between moments where everything felt easy between them. Paige bumped Azzi’s shoulder, teasing her about the free throws she’d bricked, and Azzi rolled her eyes, quick to fire back about Paige’s turnovers. It was all light and familiar, their rhythm, their shorthand, their closeness.

They were headed toward the dining hall when it happened.

Brandon, one of the guys from the football team, stepped right into their path. Confident, loud, like he always was. “Yo, Azzi,” he said, grinning. “You wanna grab dinner sometime? Just you and me?”

The words hit hard. Too fast, too casual, like Paige wasn’t even standing there.

Paige stopped walking. Her smile faded. Her jaw tightened, subtle but sharp. Azzi glanced between them, caught completely off guard. “Uh… I—I don’t know,” she said, stumbling over the words. “Maybe… I’m not sure.”

Brandon didn’t seem to notice the tension at all. He just nodded, smug. “Cool. Let me know.”

Then he walked off, not even sparing a glance in Paige’s direction.

The silence that followed wasn’t just awkward, it was heavy. Thick with everything unsaid.

Paige didn’t say a word. She just started walking again, quicker now, eyes fixed ahead. Her shoulders had lost their usual looseness, her whole posture tight and closed off. Azzi hurried to catch up, unsure of what to say, wishing she could rewind the last two minutes and handle it differently. But the words caught in her throat. What could she even say? It had all happened so fast, and now it felt like she’d stepped on something delicate without meaning to.

She tried to brush it off later, told herself it wasn’t that deep. That it didn’t mean anything. But deep down, she knew better. Because what hurt wasn’t just Brandon’s timing—it was what her hesitation had signaled. Paige and Azzi had crossed the line of ‘just friends’ a long time ago. Every glance they shared, every touch that lingered too long—it had never just been friendly. Friends didn’t look at each other like that. Friends didn’t feel like this. Friends don’t have sex.

And the truth was, Azzi wanted Paige. Fully. Openly. She wanted to be seen beside her, not just orbiting in private. But she’d never said any of it. Not out loud. Not to Paige. She’d been too scared to risk what they already had. Too scared to ask for more and hear that Paige didn’t want the same.

So when Brandon asked her out and she didn’t shut it down right away, it cracked something between them. Not loudly, not completely, but just enough.

Later that night, Azzi stayed in her dorm, restless, replaying the moment again and again. Wondering why she hadn’t just said no. Wondering if it had looked worse than it was. She thought about calling Paige, explaining, trying to fix it before it spiraled into something bigger. But by the time she worked up the nerve, it was already too late.

Her phone lit up with a message. Paige was out. At a bar. With the team. Probably trying to blow off steam. Looking for a distraction.

And apparently, she found one, based on that video.Azzi hated that the thought bothered her, but it did. The idea of someone else getting Paige’s full attention, even briefly, stung in a way she hadn’t expected. She hadn’t known everything that had happened that night. Not until she saw the video. It had taken months to fully mend what cracked between them after that. To work through all the things they hadn’t said out loud. Eventually, they’d laughed about it—how messy and dumb they’d both been, how long it took them to admit what they actually felt for each other.

Now, years later, the video didn’t carry much weight on its own. It was old history. But the fact that the internet had dug it up and was using it to spin stories about their relationship pissed Azzi off. And, if she was honest, it scared her too.

Comments flooded in:

"Is this the mystery girl from Dallas?”

"Looks like Paige’s type hasn’t changed."

"That girl apparently lives in Dallas now—just saying."

The timing couldn’t have been worse. Both Paige and Azzi were heading into the first round of the playoffs, and this was the kind of distraction neither of them could afford. But it was more than just bad timing, it was the fear that started to creep in underneath. For the first time, Azzi fully understood what Paige had been afraid of all along. The noise. The scrutiny. The way people hovered around their relationship, looking for cracks to expose, moments to twist, anything they could turn into a headline.

Azzi had always believed that love should be simple if it was real. But this made it feel anything but. Suddenly, she couldn’t stop thinking about how easily something private could be taken out of their hands. How quickly the world could take something honest and turn it into speculation, clickbait, drama. She feared what it could do to Paige, how it might shut her down again, make her retreat into the guarded version of herself Azzi thought they’d left behind. And underneath all of it was the deeper fear, what if the pressure of being seen, of being picked apart by strangers, slowly wore them down? What if even love wasn’t enough to hold up under that kind of weight?

She trusted Paige. That wasn’t the issue. But she didn’t trust the world around them, and now she was starting to understand why Paige never had either.

Paige tried to reach her that night.

First came the FaceTime call—Azzi’s screen lit up with Paige’s name and a photo of them from last summer, smiling in a grainy, sunlit selfie. Azzi stared at it until it stopped ringing. She couldn’t bring herself to answer. Her heart was still pounding too fast, her thoughts too tangled.

A few minutes later, Paige tried again. Another FaceTime. Then a call. Then a text: Can you talk? Another: Please.

Azzi read the messages over and over, thumbs hovering over the screen, her chest tight with guilt. She knew it was cruel not to answer. She knew Paige had nothing to do with the rumors, knew this wasn’t her fault. But still, Azzi felt like she was suffocating—trapped under the weight of new fears she hadn’t figured out how to name yet.

It wasn’t just the video. It was everything it stirred up. All the old insecurities she thought she’d buried. All the ways this love, so steady and solid most days, suddenly felt fragile under public scrutiny. She hated that she was letting it get to her. Hated that she was pulling away when she knew Paige needed reassurance just as much as she did. But she couldn’t fake calm. Not yet. Not when everything inside her felt like it was unraveling.

The phone buzzed again. Another message: I just want to hear your voice. That’s all.

Azzi closed her eyes. She wanted that too, more than anything. But her body stayed locked up, heart racing, jaw clenched, tears burning behind her eyes. What if Paige was reaching out just to retreat again? What if she needed Azzi to be the strong one, to pull her past the fear? Azzi wasn’t sure she could.

She set her phone to do-not-disturb and dropped it face down on the bed. Then she lay back against the pillows, arms crossed over her chest like she was bracing for impact.

She wasn’t angry at Paige. Not really. But she needed space. Space to think, to breathe, to stop feeling like everything they had built could be undone by a blurry video and a few careless comments online.

She would call Paige back. Just not until she knew what she was really afraid of.

#pazzi #paige bueckers #azzi fudd #paige x azzi #pazzi fics #almost always series

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schlatt-love-bot · 3 months ago

Note

I NEED more Schlatt smut😫 you write it so good. Ive seen hc's that Schlatt would call reader Momma or Ma, both in a sexual and non sexual way. Think we can do somthing with that?👀

Absolutely I think we can do something with that! Just thinking about Schlatt grumbling out “momma” in bed….PHEW! I apologize, anon, for how long this took me to get out there, I honestly wanted it perfect before posting…here goes nothing!

IF YOU ARE A MINOR, DO NOT CONTINUE READING! NSFW CONTENT!

“Old black water, keep on shinin’..” You hummed to yourself, dancing around the kitchen as you cleaned. The holidays had just passed, and you needed to do a deep clean of your and your boyfriend, Schlatt’s, shared kitchen, as it had seen so much action in the past few days—hosting dinners, cookie baking, pie making..the list goes on. That, plus, you were tired of seeing your holiday decorations up, it was almost February and all they were to you was a solemn reminder that the holidays had come and gone, and now you had to wait a whole year to enjoy the warm, fuzzy feelings they brought you once more. Schlatt had asked you to wait for him, knowing you would climb up on countertops you definitely shouldn’t in order to get things off the tops of the cabinets, but you didn’t listen to him. You wanted to surprise him with a nice, clean kitchen when he was done work for the day, and so there you stood on one of the countertops, winding up string lights and taking down pine garlands off the top of the cabinets, singing along to Black Water at a quiet level, as to not disturb Schlatt at work.

Little did you know, Schlatt had stood in the doorway to the kitchen for a good 5 or so minutes now, just watching you. Watching as you stood on the countertop, completely entranced by the music you were playing, dancing in your little pajama shorts and sleep shirt. He knew he should be pissed off at you for both not listening to him when he asked you to wait for him, as well as for not listening to him when he specifically asked you not to go climbing on countertops, but he couldn’t help himself from standing and enjoying the show you were putting on. Every so often, you would scoot-shuffle yourself in a way that made your shorts peek just enough that he began to develop a taste for what was now on view for him.

“I’d like to hear some funky Dixieland, pretty mama come and take me by the hand!” You sang ever so slightly louder, standing on your tiptoes to reach a very tucked-back deer ornament you needed to grab to properly dust the tops of the cabinets before hoping off. As you reached, your socks betrayed you, causing you to slip, losing your balance and falling off the counter, heading to the tile below. You braced yourself for the impact…that never came.

“Alright, pretty momma, you gotta start watchin’ yourself…what did I tell ya earlier?” Your cheeks flushed as you opened your eyes, realizing that you were not on the ground, but in fact in Schlatt’s arms, as he called you “momma.” A chill went down your spine, as Schlatt raised an eyebrow at your flushed expression.

“What’s wrong, toots? Cat got your tongue?” He teased, shaking his head at your flustered state before he gently lowered your feet to the ground, his hands finding their familiar place on your hips.

“Nothin’, baby…my bad.” You managed to say, shaking your head as you tried to clear your mind once your feet were firmly planted on the ground below. He let out a laugh, rubbing his thumbs against your hips before retorting.

“Nothin’, really? I can tell something’s brewin’ in that pretty little head of yours. Spill…”

“Nothing, really, baby…just like the new nickname is all.” You admitted, cheeks burning a brighter shade of pink as his eyebrow cockily peaked on his face.

“Liked bein’ called, momma, huh? I think I can use it more often for ya if ya’d like…” He said, teasingly, as he pulled your body closer to his. “Can’t believe you…not listenin’ to me, wagging your little ass up there on the counters…specifically what I told you not to, huh?”

“Someone had to get it done around here…you’ve been too busy working to help me take down all the Christmas decorations, y’know.” You groaned, taking a step back to put the ornament still in your hands into the box, turning to face him again. “Too busy working to help with other needs too.”

He hummed, cocking his head slightly before looking you up and down.

“What typa needs are we talkin’, baby?”

“Oh, pretty boy…you know exactly what type of needs.” You purred, slowly stepping closer to wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him closer to you, so you’d be at the perfect spot to whisper in his ear.

“I’ve been so needy for you, Jay…and you’ve been nowhere to be seen…doesn’t sound fun, does it?” Your warm breath on his ears sent a chill up and down his spine. Unable to speak, he shook his head, knowing exactly where you were going with all this.

“Think it’s about time pretty boy gets punished, don’t you?” Your fingers lightly traced his jaw, before gently bringing his face to look at yours.

“Yes, ma…” He said, his voice no louder than a whisper, as you smiled.

“Good boy…now…take us to the bedroom, hmm?” Almost immediately, Schlatt stood tall, wrapping your legs swiftly around his waist, not wasting any time by practically sprinting to the bedroom while keeping your legs locked around him. You let out a giggle, clearly you weren’t the only one who was feeling a bit hungry and eager.

Once inside your bedroom, he instinctively plopped you down on the bed, hungrily connecting your lips, needing to feel your tongue against his with a groan. You laughed, slowly disconnecting his head from yours with a tug of his hair, looking at how swollen and desperate his lips looked from not even a full minute of making out.

“Pretty boy…I think you’ve forgotten who’s in control tonight, huh?” His eyes widened, a blush spreading across his cheeks.

“Sorry, (Y/N)…not used to all this…” You chuckled, ruffling his hair slightly before guiding him to sit down on the bed, hands slowly traveling down his chest to the hem of his shirt, playing with it in your fingertips slightly before returning your gaze to his hungry eyes.

“It’s okay, baby..I know. Not used to seeing this side of me…but you’ve gotta pay for just how neglected you’ve left me lately..” You slowly began to peel his shirt off, admiring the body you loved oh so much before beginning to plant a trail of kisses against his collarbones. He hummed at the sensation, not used to being on the receiving end of all this affection…but he couldn’t deny that it definitely felt good. He brought his hands down to his pants, beginning to unbutton them as you grabbed them, forcing him to stop with a groan.

“Nope…at my pace, baby. Not yours… keep your hands to yourself, and this will be a better experience for both of us.” You said, returning to his collarbones, leaving a trail of wet, sloppy kisses and a mixture of scattered hickeys, some in not so noticeable areas, others…were definitely going to be seen. He groaned watching you, knowing you were really going to drag this one out. You giggled against his skin, your hands trailing up and down his sides as your mouth left his collarbones, trailing down his chest, meeting the start of his happy trail. His breath hitched, as you lifted your face up, looking up at him.

“What do you say, pretty boy?”

“Fuck…please…”

“Please, what, baby? Use your words…”

“Fuck…momma please…need your mouth on my cock, like…now.” He said, the words sheepishly leaving his mouth…he wasn’t so used to being wrapped around your fingertips like this. You hummed against his skin, pressing a kiss to the top of his happy trail once more, looking back up at him.

“Say it like you mean it, big guy. What do you want me to do?” He hissed, watching your mouth reconnect with the sensitive skin of his lower belly, nipping at it to leave a little mark of love for only he and you to remember later.

“Momma, please…need you to suck me off, bad!” His head went back into the pillows, eliciting a giggle from you as you swiftly licked your tongue from the top of his happy trail down to where his jeans sat, already unbuttoned due to his prior impatience. He squirmed under your touch, a string of profanities leaving his lips.

“Good boy…sounds like you really need me, hmm?” You purred, pulling his jeans down to see his member already rock hard, tucked in a way that the head of his member was practically sticking out of the leg hole of his boxers, glistening already with precum.

“Mmm…looks like somebody was excited…just as needy as I am, aren’t you, pretty boy?” You said, making a quick lick at his tip before palming him through his boxers, earning yourself a throaty moan from the man lying under you.

“Fuck, please…need you..” His voice weakly trailed off, his senses becoming easily overwhelmed by just how badly he needed to feel your warm mouth engulfing his length. You laughed at how much he was squirming under your light touch, nodding your head in understanding as you finally peeled his boxers off his body, his cock quick to spring up, slapping him in the tummy as he left a bit of his leaking precum there. You hummed, standing on the edge of the bed as you licked your lips, watching as his cock twitched, waiting for any sort of sensation to come from you.

“Such a pretty sight…my pretty, handsome boy. Don’t get to see you like this under me that often, huh?” He groaned, picking his head up slightly to look at you.

“Please…need to feel you…” You hummed, crossing your arms slightly as you gave him a knowing look.

“Please, please, ma…need your pretty lips around my cock…” You smiled, hearing those words sent a chill up your own spine as you slowly went to action, leaning yourself above him, lightly breathing on his hardened member, watching it twitch under your breath as he groaned above you.

“Such a fuckin’ tease…” he whispered, praying you hadn’t heard. You smirked, rubbing your finger against his red tip, looking up towards him.

“What did you say, pretty boy?” His eyes widened, feeling as your fingers stopped rubbing and began just holding steady pressure against his throbbing member, causing him to groan.

“Nothing…nothing, please..!” He squirmed, needing to feel more than the steady pressure you were teasing him with, causing you to giggle. You shook your head, applying more pressure down on his throbbing tip, causing him to hiss.

“Don’t be a brat, pretty boy…won’t take care of you if you keep actin’ up…” You muttered, staring him in his half-hooded eyes, to see whether or not he understood what you were asking of him.

“Sorry…sorry, momma…won’t do it again, promise.” He whispered, his eyes pleading for you to do something, anything to give him some pleasure. You hummed, satisfied by his begging, nodding your head as you brought your hand back down to his hardened member, slowly beginning to stroke him from the base of his cock all the way to his tip. He hissed at the touch, lightly bucking his hips up, causing you to laugh at his needy state.

“Pretty boy…watch yourself…I’ll stop right now if you don’t stop fuckin’ my hand…” He groaned, rolling his eyes as his head went back to the pillows under him, needless to say, he wasn’t used to the dominance currently dripping from you. A blush began to spread from his ears to his cheeks, making you bite your lip, quickening your strokes.

“Look at you…such a mess in my hand…only my mess, yeah? You look so hot when you’re this submissive, baby…” You hummed, your eyes hooding over with your own lust…you began to feel your own needs growing bigger and bigger. He moaned at the combination of the dirty words leaving your lips and your quickened movements, his mind going numb. You smiled down at him, by how much his cock was twitching in your hand, you could tell he was close. Swiftly, you took your hand off his member, leaving him unsatisfied.

“What…? What the fuck!” He whined, picking his head up off the pillows slightly, looking straight at you. You giggled, slowly climbing back up his body, your face hovering a few inches above his, a smirk adorning your face.

“What, thought I’d let you cum that quickly, baby boy? You need a taste of your own medicine…how long do you think I’ve been waiting for this myself?” You whispered into his ear, nibbling at his earlobe when you were finished. He groaned, rolling his eyes at you.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, ma….please..! I promise I’ll…I’ll do better…fulfill your needs…I…I..just..” He droned on, panting slightly as his mind couldn’t work hard enough to complete a single sentence.

“You just, what?”

“Fuck…need to cum, momma…please!” You smiled, pressing a kiss to his lips, deepening it slightly to taste him, gauge just how badly he needed you. He eagerly deepened the kiss with his tongue…giving you just a slight idea of how badly he needed you, your touch, your taste…you groaned into his mouth. Pulling away from him, you continued your trail of teasing kisses and nips all the way down his neck, across his collarbones, down his chest, back down to his happy trail, making eye contact with him once again. He groaned, knowing exactly what you were going to do, his cock twitching in anticipation.

You licked from the bottom of his belly button down to the base of his cock, breathing heavily on it. He groaned at you once more, resisting his inner urge to lace his fingers in your hair and pull you down onto his cock.

“Hmmm…I don’t know if you need me…what do you think, Jay?”

“Fuck…I need your…your mouth on my cock..so bad, so bad ma…” He muttered out, eyes watching you full of a mix of anticipation and lust that drove you wild. You smiled, pleased with his answer.

“Good boy…now you’re gettin’ it.” You praised, quickly and swiftly taking his cock into your mouth, hearing his moans like music to your ears as you continued to take as much of his length in your mouth as you could. Slowly, you were reaching your choking point, causing you to wrap your hand around the rest of his length that wouldn’t fit.

Keeping your eyes on him, you began to slowly bob your head up and down, using your tongue to add friction to the underside of his cock. He let out a low growl, instinctively bucking his hips up slightly.

“Fuck…s-sorry, momma…can’t help it. You…you feel so good..!” He grumbled, his eyes unable to open from the pleasure he was experiencing. You were enjoying just how much of a mess he was becoming underneath your touch, quickening your pace as you hummed against his hardened member. After bobbing for only a few moments, you felt him begin to twitch in your mouth…all the pent up frustration from your early ended handjob were shining through, he was close to release. You gave him a look, patting his thigh, a signal that whenever he was ready, he could cum. He damn near lost his mind at that moment, a string of profanities mixed with moans.

“Fuck, momma! Gonna…gonna…!” He couldn’t get his last warning out before he began to paint the inside of your mouth and cheeks white with his seed, cursing out in a moan as he felt his release. Your cheeks were pleasantly full as you felt some of his seed slowly trickle down your throat, continuing your motions on his cock to make sure you got every last drop of his juices out from him. Overstimulated, he muttered nonsense to himself as his head dropped to his pillow one last time, panting hard at how intense his orgasm truly was.

You popped your mouth off his cock with an audible “pop,” looking him in the eye as you swallowed every last drop of his seed in your cheeks. He smiled, eyes glazed over as he watched you join him on the pillows, still caught up in the high feeling he had gotten from his release.

“Damn…maybe I need to call you ma more often…that was so fuckin’ hot, babe.” He panted, lazily looking over at you as you laid with a smirk on your face.

“It was pretty damn hot, but…momma has some needs that need to be fulfilled, hmm?”

With that sentence alone, his hunger was reignited in his eyes, as he sprung back to life, eager and more than willing to show his momma just how badly he appreciated her, and just how badly he needed to taste her, care for her.

#jschlatt x reader #jschlatt #schlatt x reader #schlatt #jschlatt x you #schlatt fic #schlatt fanfic #schlatt x you #schlatt x y/n #jschlatt fanfic #jschlatt smut #schlatt smut #big guy #big guy fic #chuckle sandwich

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neuvilette-tea-party · 3 months ago

Note

Sending you an idea, I was thinking about a Fem!Reader dancing with some soft music in the little house that she shares with Steb. Dancing while preparing some breakfast for the two of them. And then Steb see her dancing just with his shirt and her panties. So, Steb try to dance with her and gets to close, so close that he can feel the warm of her skin.

That makes Steb's mind go super high with the idea of make her his, and maybe breed her again(?)

Sorry if its not so specific. I did my best, I swear! Hope you like it, I really love how you write about him 🥰 plz keep it up! Bye!

Hehehehehehehehehe, glad to know the combo panties/stolen shirt is popular 💗💗💗💗💗

✗♡✗♡ Steb x F!reader ✗♡✗♡

Tags : Steb is selectively non-verbal, established relationship, heavy making out, Heat/mating season, Steb is feral, tickling, knot, oral (F receiving), P in V, creampie breeding, bed break, Bridge position, mating press, biting, dumbification, bit of blood, Steb has carnivorous tendencies

You bob your head as you work your dough with the palm of your hands, grabbing it, slamming it down the work surface, and then spreading it before reassembling it into a ball. To give you motivation and keep a good pace you put on some music and now you work it in rhythm with the percussions.

That’s going to be some good brioche!

You woke up extra early to surprise Steb with your special brioche that he just loves! He is a sticker to a healthy diet but he makes an exception for your brioche that he devours entirely in just two days like a little kid devouring candies by the handful.

But his heat starts soon and you want to give him some bonus emotional support!

You slam the dough hard a final time on the floured surface and take a step back.

“Phew... That’s a workout!” you sigh.

You grab the dough, put it in a bowl that you cover, and put it in the oven to rest and rise for the next two hours! You could stop here and rest ooooooooooor... You could make it extra yummy with chocolate shards!

You grab two chocolate tablets and start mincing them with a knife, still bobbing your head up and down, swaying your hips left and right. You hum the melody as you cut the tablets, tapping the rhythm with your foot. You scrap them all into a bowl, take out your tomato timer, and set a 2 hours resting time, and now you have nothing left to do but to wait.

You grab a wooden spoon and start to whisper the lyrics, moonwalking back from the counter into the living area. You jump and dance, silently screaming the solo to not wake up Steb, rocking yourself in all directions while your cat Compote looks at you like you lost your mind.

You kneel down to him and press your face in his fur with a giggle making him meow absolutely offended! You laugh standing back up, jumping backward, dancing the choreography you remember from the concert Steb took you to as you both love this singer.

You put your hands on your hips and shake them left and right energetically, losing your breath and you almost jump when a foreign hand slides on your tummy, pressing your back against a tall body.

You yelp in surprise as Steb purrs loudly, sliding his second hand around your shoulders and diving his nose into your hair.

“You scared me, silly!” You giggle.

He gently kisses your temple before gently spinning you toward him.

Visibly, his mating season started judging by his new bright red scales adorning his usually deep green stripes. You like these colors on him, he looks like he is in fire when light directly hits the red scales, illuminating him like real hot flames!

He contemplates you up and down with a lopsided grin as he signs.

“Yes, I robbed you of another shirt.” You confess cheekily, “I can’t help it, it smells just like you!”

He shakes his head with a low chuckle, sneaking his hands around your lower back, pressing your two bodies back together, and starts swinging his hips with yours, smiling at you with an assured grin.

He grabs your hand and starts to make you twirl in your little living room, making your head spin as you chuckle in his arms. He throws you away from him gently, holding you with one hand, and pulls you back in his embrace tenderly, making you his sweet prisoner.

He kisses your cheek several times as he brushes his nose against your soft skin, he gently tilts your head to the side, revealing your neck, pressing his nose in the crook, deeply inhaling your scent deep into his lungs with a satisfied sigh.

With a low growl, he licks the entire length of your neck with the flat of his tongue, debating if he should bite down your pretty neck, bare and defenseless before him. He bares his teeth as he blows on your pretty throat, licking his fangs at that delicious thought...

You explode laughing, hugging him tight as you twirl together like two blissful idiots. He leaves a trail of pecks on your neck, reaching your jaw then biting your lower lips, his hands sneaking down there to cup your accessible rear over the fabric of your panties, taking a handful of it.

“How dare, Mister?!” You tease.

He pretends to bite off your nose tips in response with a growled chuckle, pressing your crotches together. You retaliate by biting down his earlobe, earning a breathy gasp on his part. One of his hands slides under the baggy shirt to caress your naked back with the tip of his soft fingers so softly it feels like a feather is teasing your skin.

Pressing your two foreheads together, you get lost in each other eyes, diving into his ocean eyes so deep and clear.

But you notice a storm slowly darkening his gaze as he traces soft circles on your back. He delicately clasps his lips on yours, hugging them lecherously as he pushes his tongue inside to dance with yours. You close your eyes as he hums before parting from each other, a sinful string of saliva linking your two mouths as a witness.

He presses his face back into your neck as he hugs you tighter, tickling you with his cheek scales making you laugh again. You hear him inhale your musk once more with a purr ending up in a low growl once more.

He feels his blood pumping harder each time he gets a whiff of your natural fragrance, each time he grazes your warm soft skin he feels goosebumps flourishing all across his body, feeling lava being poured into his very veins making all his fins tremble with excitation, and great anticipation!

He gently tugs on the shirt with a hissed whine, straightening his back to beg you with his eyes, pulling you gently towards the table of the living room. He sensually caresses it, looking at you as he sticks his tongue out between his two fingers with a grin.

You cannot help but explode laughing at his sillyness.

“Steb, come on! We were lucky it did not break down under us last time.” You counter.

His grin stretches and he gestures to the upstairs with his head, his ears twitching in a silent question as he squeezes your hand.

You nudge your nose against his cheek, pecking his soft skin lovingly.

He wraps his hand on your ass and lifts you up expertly, forcing you to circle his waist with your legs and his shoulders with your arms. Now in his arms he casually goes up the stairs, pressing your cheeks together with a gentle purr, letting his cheek fin tips caress your skin.

He opens the bedroom door with ease and enters the cozy, if not cramped, bedroom. He falls on top of you on the bed, crushing you under his weight. You let out an ‘oof’ being squeezed between the mattress and his tall body but you would not want to be anywhere else.

Nowhere is warmer and more inviting than Steb’s embrace, nowhere is safer than between his long arms and you love nothing more but to snuggle yourself against his chest...

Steb immediately attacks your face with plenty of kisses all over: your cheeks, your nose, your forehead, your jaw, your temples, your eyelids... Nothing is safe from his lips and he will kiss every part of your face until he is happy, cupping your cheeks lovingly.

Muah! Muah! Muah! Muah! Muah!

You smile under his lips, holding his hands softly as he purrs loudly like a big cat, slowly going down your body. His hands caress their way under the shirt delicately, grazing your sensitive human skin like a precious and fragile treasure, as he fondly kisses your neck. You do not unwrap your legs around his waist as you hug his shoulders tight.

Out of nowhere

He starts tickling your sides mercilessly with a large grin while you cry and laugh and beg for mercy, big tears rolling down your cheeks while you gasp for air.

“Steb...! Steb! Ple-please stop! I can’t...!” You manage to shout between fits of laughter, rolling all over the bed while he keeps attacking you, chuckling too, kissing every morsel of skin he comes across, whether it is your face, your neck, your back, or your hips.

You try to push him off you, kicking and begging but he keeps torturing you while you push all your pillows and the cover off the bed in your frenzy.

“STEB! PLEASE!” You scream out of breath, jaw sore with your laughter.

He finally stops, looming over you, disheveled and pantless too but with a big bright smile on his gorgeous face. He stands on his knees to get rid of his shirt, revealing his well-sculpted body to your eyes, his ravishing green stripes adorning his chest and hips that you adore lazily tracing with your fingers.

You gasp loudly, catching your breath back as the last tears roll down your skin, you wipe them off with the back of your hands, your chest rising up and down repeatedly. Steb lowers himself to brush his nose tips with yours, snaking his arms under your back to nudge himself against you.

He rolls, pulling you on top of himself, sitting you down his groin region. You finish laughing pushing your hair off your face, you feel his hands caressing their way up your thighs, groping your meat to knead it lovingly as you look down at him, letting you listen to a long whined plea.

“What do you want, handsome?” You ask, tilting your head as you caress his jaw.

He grabs the hem of your panties, pulling on it to let it slap your venus mound repeatedly while licking his lips with a hungry growl.

“Aren’t you affraid to get hurt under me?” You inquire a bit worried for your lover.

For sole response Steb raises an eyebrow with a tight lopsided grin, ‘try me’ written on his face. He grabs your hips and pulls them up, positioning you on your knees, looming just over his head. He immediately starts teasing you by grazing the extra thin skin of your thighs, tracing the crotch lining with the pad of his fingers, and deep breaths.

He raises his gaze to meet yours and casually traces your slit through the fabric, getting a feeling of your pussylips until he reaches where your clit hides and he gives it a gentle flick making you instantly jump.

He hums in appreciation and pulls on the hems, lowering your undergarments to reveal your pussy to his eyes, instantly his pupils dilate and his cheek fins wave with great interest. You extend your legs for him to take them off and he doesn’t break eye contact as he presses your undergarment to his sensitive nose taking a big whiff of it, his purring deepening another octave while you feel your blood rushing to your cheek at his perverted behavior.

He throws the panties away to be forgotten and grabs your hip to stabilize you, leaving a trail of soft kisses on your leg next to his face, and gently pulls you down toward his face. You grab the bedframe as you feel his breath on your exposed pussy but he first chooses to kiss your inner thighs on both sides, making you tremble with anticipation and nervousness.

He leaves a final peck and focuses on your bare cunt right above him, guiding your hips down until he can dive his nose into your pubes to inhale your raw sexual musk with delectation as you see his ears twitching.

He gives you a long lick with the flat of his tongue, parting your folds as he tastes your inner flesh. You gasp and dig your nails in the wood of the frame while he titillates you with short, quick licks with the dart of his tongue, getting a feeling of your cunt.

Steb loves nothing more but to spend his time with his face between your thighs, fulfilling his aquatic Vastaya nature by remaining in a wet environment at all times, feeling your essence trickling down his skin with his gills wide open.

You take a big trembling breath as you feel him tracing your slit up and down, eyes closed to savor your taste better, lathering you with his saliva and probing your tight entrance with his tip, circling it before pressing the end gently to it, not entering the tight circle of flesh, preferring to tease you by exciting it.

He lets a loud kiss on your pussylips before adjusting your pelvis to gain better access to the start of your slit where your clit hides. He spreads them open with his tongue again, going up until he bumps against your sweet bundle of nerves, the object of all his obsessions and desires, and starts flicking it repeatedly and expertly.

You huff and moan at his tricks as you feel his warm and wet long tongue circling and crossing your pearl, teasing its surroundings before going straight to the point and torturing you deliciously. You feel your thighs trembling under his care but worry you will hurt him by fully sitting in his face so you remain in this uncomfortable in-between position.

“St-Steb...” You let out, voice trembling to not outright scream

Steb reopens his eyes to meet yours, silent questions in his ocean-blue gaze. You open your mouth to speak and only manage to pant a long mewl as he wipes his tip against your excited nervous bud, drumming it relentlessly. Each tongue stroke sends a powerful wave of pleasure in your nerve endings and makes you shudder dramatically, pure lava coursing your entire body as Steb toys with you so easily it is ridiculous.

Shaking, you bite down one of your fingers while he keeps tickling you, his purr insolently growing louder. You feel your pussy convulsing and getting wetter and your inner muscles gorge themself with blood in preparation for penetration.

Steb lets his cheek fins wave as it pleases them, grazing the thin skin of your inner thighs, as he gets to taste and savor like he loves to. Eating you out must have become his number-one hobby since he tasted it for the first time, almost like an addiction he cannot help but crave the next time you will open your luscious thighs for him to dive in between.

Drinking at the fountain of your pussy like a parched soul lost in the desert. He knows no better pleasure but to taste your essence on his tongue, feeling it dripping and trickling down his face and jaw, suffocating himself against your tasty cunt, devouring you like an animal, propelling you toward orgasm repeatedly.

It’s a win-win situation, you both enjoy and pleasure yourself, only in a different fashion. You return the favor when he allows it, but he just loves taking care of you, witnessing you crumble with just some licks, seeing you melt between his hands, observing you shake under his tender care, delecting himself in your desperate reaction when he overstimulates you until he feels satisfied.

What can he say? He is generous by nature and a little bit of a tease when he wants!

Steb closes back his eyes to focus on your taste and the music of your moans, his thumbs caressing your thighs gently as he laves at your clit with dedication.

You cry out as he suddenly wraps his luscious lips all around your pearl, feeling him roll and twist it, sucking on it like a piece of candy. You almost lose it and fall on his face but you manage to remain stable, although with difficulties.

That change in his sexual endeavors worsens your wetness and you can now feel it dripping out of you onto his jaw and thick neck as he immediately opens his mouth wide to receive it on his tongue and not waste anymore drop of your delectable essence.

You hear him gulp down and drink out of you, his purr and his groans resonating like an obsessive litany in the small bedroom of your home and making your head spin.

If Steb is reluctant to speak out of habit and physical condition, he has absolutely no qualms vocalizing his pleasure and amusement: he groans, moans, mewls, coos, rasps, growls, and purrs all the most obscene sounds you have ever heard in your life!

He has more repertoire than all Piltovans languages!

He lacks no mean to express himself and has no difficulties making himself understood in those intimate moments when his hands are busy doing other things than signing, which is a detail that worried you during your first sexual encounters.

In fact, it worried you so much that you started to propose implementing some rules for him to be able to express himself during the act like you knew all of that better than him!

He silently and gravely listened to you talking out of your butt, raising an eyebrow here and there, refraining from smiling at your most extravagant propositions until he could not contain himself anymore and exploded laughing.

To be fair, your ideas were not applicable practically and he enjoyed showing you how well he could communicate even with both his hands and mouth busy pleasuring you and silencing you for good on that subject.

He left you out exhausted, satisifed and panting with a deep kiss, having proven his point efficiently.

You lower your gaze back on your beloved Vastaya to discover you made a mess on his face and the sheets, but he seems way too happy to even think about stopping, your essence smeared all over his lips and jaw, his cheeks are rosy with blood as his heart sprints in his chest, letting escape sighs of pure satisfaction.

You manage to take your finger out of your mouth to tenderly caress his soft hair and temple, giving him back some love and tenderness he so generously offers you on the regular. He opens his eyes again, boring his gaze into you and you can only see what you can describe are pure... glee.

He is simply happy to be with you, to share that intimate experience with you. Steb is not a complicated man, his vision of bliss is not extravagant and superfluous, holding your hand every day makes his soul sing and he harbors the hope yours do the same.

You always want to tell him. To tell him how much you love him, how a single glance of him can give you wings to surpass any obstacle, how a brush of his hand sends your heart in such a frenzy you someday worry it will simply explode from too much love. How he circles your shoulders gently in the streets, casually pulling you closer to protect you and signifying to anyone else you are together makes you feel desired and tenderly loved, how his simple everyday presence helps you prepare for any future hardships, any uphill battle, knowing that whatever happens, Steb will be here despite everything, to support you and build you back up if you ever fail.

You often open your mouth to tell him all that, as he looks at you with a patient smile and you lose all your words, ending in a nerve-wracking, blabbering mess, unable to look him in the eyes so you just decide to press your lips to his as the best next course of action and he eagerly responds, hugging you tight in his protective and loving embrace.

His capacity to rob you of all your words with a single glance always astonishes you, and he takes an undeniable pleasure in making you mute with a single grin, teasing you with his infuriatingly beautiful face and gallant demeanor, his ears twitch revealing his own excitement and pent-up hopes he cannot put into words.

You come back to reality as Steb lovingly kisses your clit several times, like he would kiss the most precious thing in all of Runeterra, pouring as much love and fondness he can in each kiss with his wet, swollen lips.

It’s not even for the sexual pleasure of it all, it is simply for the sheer tenderness and warmth of the moment, to give generously without expectation in return.

Just because he loves you.

“I love you Steb.” You gasp, your clit pulsating against his luscious lips.

He glances at you, letting appear a mischievous grin, takes a handful of your hips, and forces them down his face with all his strength, actually forcing you to truly sit on his jaw.

You yelp and try to stand back up to not hurt your lover but he holds on to you ferociously, digging his fingers in your soft flesh to keep you in place, pressed against his hungry mouth, not letting you go like a carnivore who dug his fangs in a piece of meat.

Steb has more strength than you and you quickly realize that all your effort and negotiation will not make him release you.

He has you right where he wanted you all along.

Sitting on his face like a throne.

You tremble with a hiss as his long tongue trails your entire slit once again before pressing against your entrance and pushing past the tight ring of flesh, entering you with his flexible appendage. You whimper as he invades your cunny with ease, opening your muscles up gently.

“St-Steb...” You beg breathlessely.

You shudder and cry out as you feel his textured tongue wave inside of you, grazing and brushing your G-spot easily, coating his member with your dripping slick right at the source. You feel him licking and lapping your cunt, leaving no surface of your secret temple uncared for as he twirls it, making your inner muscles clench at his will.

You grip his hair for stability as his tongue tips travel freely inside of you, caressing secret spots like he loves to, feeling your drool trickling down your chin as raw pleasure shocks your entire body at each of his tongue tricks.

Steb was always good at eating you out and liked flexing his talent to you just in case you forgot how much pleasure he could give you.

If he doesn’t have the desire to go all the way with you each time, he surely craves to taste you on his tongue once more and will not refuse you his skillful tenderness.

You inadvertently clench your thighs all around his head at his flicking tongue, ravaging you from the inside, actively risking to suffocate him but he actually forces your hips down harder against his face and accelerates his movement to push you at your limits.

If you could be nice and squirt in his mouth, he would greatly appreciate it! He will help you, do not worry.

You throw your head back, mouth open to swallow air but each wave of pleasure and lust contracts both your cunt and your trachea. You bite your lower lips as you feel sweat rolling down goosebumps as Steb’s grip tightens around the meat of your thighs his tongue waving flexibly, swirling and twisting against your pulsating spots as your inner muscle gorge themself with more blood to puff up and get all fluffy all around him.

Steb releases one of your thighs to grab his already hard pack, kneading it and teasing himself as he listens to the symphony of your indecent moans. It’s so easy for you to make him hard, you hold him in the palm of your hand, and anything can get him going if it is you. Even the most innocent demeanor can throw him out of his carefully crafted habits and render him absolutely feral if he isn’t careful.

Directly tapping into the most animalistic and feral instinct of his Vastaya nature and you are gracious enough to accept him as he truly is, allowing him to discover and test the different behaviors he had to keep hidden from his former, less accepting relationships.

But you forgive him everything

Maybe too much, he sometimes fears.

So he doesn’t let go of his more bestial tendencies, muzzling them down for both of your sake, preferring to love you tenderly rather than taking the risk to scare you.

But when the rut comes he just cannot help himself, one caress from you and he is drooling with a growl, craving to grab and bite the flesh like he wants to devour your body to finally truly make one forever.

When his mating season arrives, his usually well-organized brain and logic almost get overridden by the deep carnal instinct

To breed

To make you his by tying you both by flesh and blood.

To give you a little one

How long and tedious his shifts are when the mating instincts arise and invade the forefront of his mind, he cannot help but think about pounding you while filing official reports and writing down witness testimonies.

He never lost control once when at work, his strong self-discipline and work ethic forbidding him from the most minuscule deviation, but those shifts are so tiresome for him.

But once you meet back at home...

Caressing your velvety soft skin, inhaling and tasting your musk and pheromones makes him feel alive like never before, it’s a greater high than all the adrenaline frenzy he ever felt in his line of work and he does his best to make you experience the same sensations

It is like an overdose of the sweetest drug, deeply inhaling the most sugary poison...

But he cannot help but crave the softness and sweetness you bestow upon him, that feeling of emotional security you provide, allowing him to be himself in his most vulnerable moments...

Intertwining your fingers for all eternity...

He is so happy he found you...

He chuckles, hearing you yap as he crosses your G-spot with the tip of his tongue.

He adores your voice, he loves it even more when you cannot line up two words thanks to him and he can hear each tremor and quake of your tone, melting him on the spot, pushing him to hug you tight and snuggling against you to protect you with his taller body.

He slides his hand inside his pants and boxer and grabs his hard length that he starts to fist roughly, letting you set the pace with your whimpers and beggings, relinquishing control to your whims.

It is just to remain patient, not to finish himself: he hopes you will accept him finishing deep inside of you...

He gulps down loudly, your slick soiling his lower face and your thighs, swallowing everything you are giving. He savors your palpitating cunt, feeling your pulse in your fluttering soft muscles through his tongue. What a good day to be an aquatic Vastaya, he cheekily thinks his gills wide open, his heart pumping blood like a machine in his ribcage.

He accelerates the motion of his tongue and hand, feeling his knot swelling at the base of his girth in preparation for mating and breeding, feeling his pre-cum dripping along his girth and his hand, soiling his boxer.

You are actually the first one he used his knot with, never feeling comfortable or close enough to his former relationships to use it with them.

That magnificent feeling when he felt your cunt stretch all around him for the first time to welcome the knot inside of your pussy, drawing a delectable bulge, was just to die for...

“AH! St-Steb...!” You cry out as he flexibly undulates his appendage against your sweet spot.

He keeps his eyes closed to focus on his motion, feeling you terribly close to your climax as your inner muscles contract all around his tongue, he knows he just needs to keep going just a little more for you to magnificently explode between his hands.

Just a little more, a little more...

He curbs it once more, letting the texture graze your spot one last fateful time...

And you scream.

Your hands roll into fists around his strands of hair, pressing his head tighter against your cunt, your thighs muscles clench so hard they froze still all around his head and you squirt violently in the open mouth of your Vastaya lover, head thrown back dramatically as your scream of orgasm ends up in a long whine, eyes blinded by a white light that slowly subsides.

You feel sweat trickling down your exhausted body, soiling Steb’s shirt as he finishes licking you clean, his purr clear and loud. He caresses your thighs and hips up and down as he cleans you up with his skillful tongue, satisfied by both of your performances while you try desperately to catch your breath.

He gently seizes your hips to lift you and sits you down on his stomach, licking his lips gluttonously and with a satiated expression. You look at Steb, still in a daze as he wipes his jaw clean, licking his fingers with joyful eyes and rosy cheeks, his fins waving blissfully.

You sigh loudly, slouching down when you feel something poking your butt, discovering his proudly erect member that he took off his sweatpants and boxer to touch himself more efficiently.

You take a big breath and caress a strand of hair behind your ear to position yourself to return the favor when Steb grabs your shoulder to gently push you into the mattress.

He rolls over you, looming over your smaller body with his tall stature, disheveled, eyes joyful but dark with secret intentions, licking his bared teeth like a predator. You gulp, looking at your lover, wondering what will be his next move, if he isn’t going to bite down your throat altogether like the carnivorous Vastaya that he is.

Instead, he lowers himself to fondly brush your nose tips together with a clear purr. You relax and peck his nose happily as he cups your cheek with his large hand.

“You do not want me to go down on you, Steb?” You propose like a secret.

He chuckles but shakes his head, sitting on is ankles he starts signing his intentions.

How he desperately wants a little one of you both, founding your very own family in Piltover and living happily all together, maybe even giving them little brothers and sisters.

He dearly hopes so at last, but he cannot do it without your consent.

You smile at him, head over heels for your Vastaya. Lust got the better of him the first time you made love and he used his knot in the heat of the moment, but since then has made it a point of honor to always ask for your permission to use it again.

You never refused, even though you knew he would never use it again if you asked him to.

But you begged him for a little one for long too before he made you his, so his knot is more than welcome.

That never stops his face from illuminating in joy each time you say ‘yes’ to him once more, endearing you a little more to him each time if it is even possible.

“Yes, Steb.” You muse, feeling your cheeks heating up dangerously, “You may.”

His ears twitch dramatically as the flush of his cheeks worsens, a bright smile on his face. He leans over the bed to take back one of the pillows that fell and gentlemanly places it under your head for your comfort, snuggling his nose against your cheek in the process before repositioning himself between your legs. He caresses his way up your inner thighs and opens your legs wide for him, revealing your cunt to his eyes once more.

He tilts his head to the side with a grin as he sees the remnant of your slick finishing dripping out of your pussy, he titillates your oversensitive clit with the tip of his finger just to play with your nerve while you hiss and groan for him to stop, shaking with the remnant of your orgasm.

He grabs your hips and pulls you toward him before seizing his girth to play with his tip a bit, collecting his pre-cum to lather his entire hard shaft before pressing his fat, reddish tip to your secret entrance and very gently entering you.

You open your mouth in a perfect ‘O’ as he pushes his size inside delicately, careful not to hurt you. You grit your teeth, feeling him opening you up easily, his pre-cum and the result of your former orgasm making you soaking wet and slippery.

His size is impressive but thanks to his previous loving care it does not hurt at all.

You shiver each time a new ridge brushes past your G spot, feeling your muscles spasming each time one of his frills titillates your gummy areas.

Steb breathes deep, feeling his lungs opening wide in his chest as his heart seems to double in volume and threatens to burst through his ribcage.

That delicious sensation...

That feeling of your soft flesh all fluffy, wet, and warm stretching all around his member to welcoming in your most secret place, he feels his toes curling at each new centimeter he pushes inside, going deeper and deeper in your warmth.

A human pussy is not meant for a Vastaya’s cock and no matter how long he takes to prepare you, no matter if you become a real fountain, the size problem remains. He knows it can be a bit uncomfortable for you at times, but you both make it work, he makes sure of it!

But for him...

The way you absolutely strangle his girth with your tight cunt, how he can feel each infinitesimal muscle twitch all around his length...

He could cum just entering you.

He would die of shame if it ever happened, how could he dare cum so early, leaving you unsatisfied and utterly baffled? He has more manners and consideration than that as your fiance!

You gasp under him, calling back his attention to you. He tenderly smiles looking at your expression, all panting and sweaty as you try to welcome him fully inside.

His heart flutters at your sight, so adorable and so easy to love

He lowers himself to capture your lips in an infinitely loving kiss as he finally finishes pushing his entire length inside of you. You almost bite his tongue in a jolt when you feel his knot pressed against your cunt. He kisses you softly, cupping your cheeks with his large hands, eyes closed to better savor your lips as you whine in the kiss.

Steb remains still, letting you a moment to adjust, brushing your foreheads together, his thumb caressing your cheekbone, while you gently caress his hair and play with one of his very sensitive ears, making him twitch it involuntarily.

It makes you laugh and accidentally contract your cunt all around him, making him hiss in return. He licks your cheek with the flat of his tongue and a guttural growl, both of you feeling his impatience bubbling under his scales

Your pheromones titillate his taste buds delectably, making him dig his nails in the bedsheet with a snarl, licking his fangs as he starts panting, his body temperature on the rise.

He feels a real inferno under his scales, boiling lava bubbling under his skin, so much energy and tension he could feel his muscles tear apart to pieces.

He... He needs to move or he is going to lose it!

He starts a slow circular motion, testing his liberty of movement inside of you, brushing his cock against your fluffy walls, and gritting his teeth. You gasp and moan, digging your own nails into his broad shoulders as your little pussy stretches the best it can.

He keeps going gently, lying on top of you as his arms snake under your back to embrace you tight, pressing his nose in the crook of your neck, inhaling your raw sexual musk deep into his lungs, getting high on your compatible pheromones.

If you truly realized what kind of aphrodisiacs your pheromones are to him, you would get scared and try to hide them under perfume.

That would break his heart...

Getting high on your compatible pheromones is such a foreplay for him! It also helps him keep track of your period cycle and know when...

You are ripe for the harvest....

Ready to try again for a little baby with him.

Oh, there is no more dangerous and delectable period for him than those moments...

That tension between his Vastaya instinct demanding to claim you like a beast and his tender love begging to treat you like his goddess... That constant tug of war in his burning flesh.

Should he bite or kiss?

Should he claw or caress?

He is constantly at war with himself in those moments, how to satisfy both sides without hurting your fragile human body?

What if he scares you revealing his inner pulsions?

He is lost in his thoughts when you jolt, feeling his ridges grazing your g spot repeatedly and you bite down his earlobe as retaliation, earning a gasped rasp from your beloved, prompting you to hug you so hard you are sure to discover bruises tomorrow.

You lick the outer shell of his ear, only to take his tip between your teeth and suckle on the erogenous, reddish fins, biting down and licking them with a growl as he gasps with short breathes, his muscles rolling under his skin, a drop of sweat traveling from his thick neck to his moving chest.

You drag your nails down, clawing his entire back till you reach the lower end and Steb throws his head back with a long moan, undulating his back under your nails like a wave, gritting his teeth under the mix of pain and pleasure he feels coursing his flesh.

He lowers his head back, looking at you with dark eyes and barred teeth like you just pushed him too far, a long rough rumble escaping from the very depth of his chest.

He grabs your waist with two hands, raising on his knees, forcing your hips up in the air and removing any control over the situation from you, locking you in a bridge position. He slips out his length, only letting his girthy tip inside, and pushes it back gently, testing the water.

Your body lets his length move easily inside your flesh, welcoming him well and deep.

Having the sweet confirmation that you are ready for him, he slips out again

And rams his entire girth inside furiously.

Your cry is cut short by the air getting punched out of your lungs as he repeats his action with a long growl.

He slips out, and slams it back

Again

And again

Steb installs a merciless pace where he keeps plunging his cock deep inside your core fiercely, his fingers digging into your soft flesh to keep you in place and not let you escape!

Under any circumstances!

He rams his cock hard and true, with full strength, undulating his hips with flexibility, the light bulb at the ceiling projecting a halo all around his gorgeous head, blinding you on the same occasion.

His thrusts are powerful and full of intent, he snaps his hips easily, splitting your poor body in two so easily you have to dig your nails in the mattress to keep yourself grounded as his tip hits your deep spot and his ridges obsessively massage your gummy one, making the pleasure and his...

Fury

Inescapable.

You try to open your mouth to speak and say something, anything, but each word dies at the gate of your lips each time he hits his hips with yours, your fleshes meeting in a wet, hypnotizing sound that gets to your head rapidly.

Steb tries his best but

He lost the battle

After tasting your pheromones on his tongue, feeling it tingling delightfully, he felt his control slipping out of his fingers, and while he tried to keep it in his grip feeling you digging your nails into his back in such an

Animal display

Something snapped

His self-control and dignity were pushed aside by the most bestial, feral part of himself

A part his Vastaya kins warned him not to let loose in polite society for fear of getting exiled from Piltover or imprisoned. A part that must be muzzled and chained down deep inside of himself to never see daylight.

But at that very moment, in your arms, surrounded by your scent, your warmth, the music of your voice, and the security you provide him and the sensation of nails in his flesh...

He lost it

He is a wild beast on the hunt, and you are the pretty little prey he stalks down, tracking you down by smell as he licks his teeth, drooling at the thought of digging his fangs in your supple, generous flesh until you beg for his mercy.

Entangled in a tango of death and love, fighting each other for dominance, bodies contused and rolling on the ground, the survival of the fittest where the lusts of blood and sex intertwine to make one.

Feeling your warm skin against his bruised scales...

Hugging you so tight he could choke you...

Intertwining your fingers in the battle...

Appeasing his hunger and instincts, nuzzling in your embrace...

You yap as his grip on your frail hips tightens as he tilts his pelvis up to hit deeper inside of you, reaching a new spot, sending new pleasure shockwaves coursing your nerve endings, contracting your muscles so hard you could think that they are about to tear up. You inadvertently bite your tongue as his harsh hip thrusts bob your entire body up and down on the mattress, hitting the top of your head against the frame of the bed.

“St... Ste...!” You try to speak out, trying to reach him

You are getting cut short each time, losing your breath and your intelligence with each undulation of his waist, his firm flesh slapping your soft one, making a lecherous music resonate in your small cozy bedroom.

He never took you so roughly!

He slams your hips together, his cock sliding in and out of your pussy repeatedly, swallowing him again and again, strangling him with each minuscule muscle contraction, making him growl louder and louder.

Steb looks down at you from all his height, seeing your face twisting with irrepressible pleasure, your mouth agape to speak but failing to, your hands pressed to the frame to stop your head from hitting it.

But more than anything else, he admires the bulge he makes inside your tight cunny, detailing how your muscles stretch to let him pass resulting in that absolutely delightful detail in this scenery. He cannot refrain from licking his dark lips, drooling at that simple view.

You are just so perfect on every front!

He wants to give you everything and it’s contrary.

Shower you with love and fuck you like an animal.

Tenderly kiss your lips and bite you to blood

Help you spread your wings and tie you down with lace

He is in full control of the situation but not of himself, his sexual instincts command him and order him around, his energy and stamina exacerbated by his blind lust for your body.

He cannot help from a tight grin as he discovers a creamy ‘O’ appearing at the base of his cock, right at the edge of his swollen knot, making him salivate even more, pushing him over the edge all over again.

He cannot get enough

He cannot get his fill of you

He needs more and more

He could continue until you both pass out from exhaustion

Filling you up again and again, breeding you for long hours, ensuring a little one!

He takes it very seriously!

He increased his physical exercises, modified his diet, quit caffeine, and regularly took fertility supplements, stacking all the odds in his favor!

He so dearly wants that baby with you...

He dreams about holding his baby in his arms at last, even the idea of nine months of patience is killing him!

Why do human pregnancies take so long?!

It’s driving him crazy!

But he is already thinking too far of himself, you’re not even pregnant yet.

Maddening him!

This is an error, an error that he intends to correct shortly

Maybe even today!

At last!

He ostensibly sucks on two fingers, humming as he coats them with his saliva before stimulating your little pearl again, still slamming his entire girth deep inside your tight cunt like you were a fuckdoll.

But you are more fragile than a toy and so much more delicious, taking care of you is his privilege!

He brushes your clit rapidly and your reaction is immediate! You immediately contract all around his cock, tightening your sensual canal to strangle his length, milking him for his pre-cum that keeps dripping out of his tip.

You let out a cry at that new stimulation and Steb throws his head backward at the compression of his shaft. So much pleasure courses your two bodies, connecting carnally, in sweat and flesh.

Steb feels his lungs tightening and air escaping him...

You... You are just giving him so much, he doesn’t know if he has it in him to not finish before you cum! How is he supposed to not crumble to pieces when your luscious, generous body strangles him with all your warmth and love?

How is he not supposed to fall on his knees and kiss your feet?

He harshly bites down his lips to blood, the sudden pain electrifying him like a slap across the face and he refocuses on your sweet body, focusing on your body language, what earns the best reaction from you!

Your arms are tired

The force you need to exert to compensate Steb’s powerful thrust to not hit your head is consequent, and the waves of pleasure he gives you definitely do not help, only weakening your muscles with repeated warm shockwaves making you tremble.

You cannot think of anything else but Steb’s cock ravaging you.

How it obsessively hits your deep and true, and grazes your gummy G spot with its ridges, keeping edging you, torturing you without interruption you feel your poor pussy convulse around his virile member, stretching the best it can to allow him inside.

This is... Such a trial

You never felt like that before!

Steb who is always so soft and tender, caressing you gently and nuzzling himself in your embrace with a light purr, simply happy to call you his

Completely metamorphosed

You do not recognize your sweet beloved, your good boy.

He is looking down at you with a hungry expression, fucking you like he never did before.

This is not even fucking anymore, this is much more bestial than that

You feel it in each of his mean thrusts and in the bruise you guess you will discover on your hips and groin tomorrow.

You can’t even think

Each roll of his hips melts your brain and you just... Do not know anything anymore

The only thing you know for certain is your Vastaya impaling you on his cock.

You even have difficulties keeping your eyes open each time he hits a sweet spot.

Your entire body is traversed by electricity, paralyzing your muscles, and making you vulnerable to the whims of your lover.

You are at his entire mercy

Steb growls, stopping his caress on your clit to grab your hip firmly with one hand and force your legs onto his shoulders before laying on top of you, pressing his entire weight and your smaller body and your knees to your chest.

This allows him to go even deeper, that’s why he loves that position! It gives him a lot of control and you cannot do anything else but endure the pleasure. You do not have to do anything, just let him do the work and enjoy yourself.

It’s also perfect for using his knot!

He presses his forehead to yours as he pounds your poor pussy under him, reaching all the way up easily, your muscle contracting inadvertently to his delight

When you try to open your eyes, you are immediately snatched by his white, sharp fangs that he licks instinctively to soothe them.

Does he has phantom pain about having to file them for his job of enforcer?

You don’t have to think this further, you’re forced to press your head back against the pillow as he keeps undulating his hips expertly, forcing you on your knees.

You have some difficulties breathing correctly with the weight on your chest, but Steb loves to press himself on you for maximum skin contact on his sensitive scales.

You hear the bed cracking and complaining under his powerful thrust, but that does not slow him down, you don’t even think he is in a state to hear that.

Steb weights down on you with a long animalistic growl, his cheek fins waving under the sheer tension as he grabs one of your hands to intertwine your fingers together, locking you down with him

You open your mouth to swallow a big breath and Steb takes the occasion to press his lips on yours, languorously kissing you with a pleased and relieved sigh, like he could not wait anymore to finally kiss you.

You try your best to not bite down his tongue which is more difficult than anticipated as he buries himself in you with such force. Steb does not mind in the slightest, snickering in the kiss each time you bite his tongue or lips.

That’s not a high price to pay to claim you as he does.

He hugs and dances with your tongue, moaning loudly in the kiss, conveying his pleasure audibly for you to hear and get off too.

He knows you love his repertoire, he makes strategic use of it to make you wetter.

You whine in the kiss, realizing you drooled all over yourself in your debilitating pleasure, completely forgetting yourself. Steb breaks the kiss panting and licks your cheeks with the flat of his tongue with a rumbly purr, tasting your drool and sweat with delight.

Your two bodies are wet, sticky and sore but Steb doesn’t plan to stop

This is too good to stop!

He licks his way down your beautiful neck while his other hand sneakily travels between your two bodies to whip and brush your clit again. You yelp, clenching your cunt violently under the assault of pleasure.

Steb’s reaction is immediate and he bites down your shoulder

Hard

You cry out at that sudden mix of pain and pleasure, squirting on Steb’s cock irrepressibly. Steb does not let go, purring loudly and plowing you down savagely.

The wet claps of flesh and the smell of sex his getting heady and your head dangerously spins with all those stimuli. You’re sure your legs would give out under you if you were not lying down

An other thing that give out is the bed

With an impressive cracking sound, you feel something break under you and you fall with a yelp, the mattress hitting the floor.

“Steb! We broke the bed!” You warn as you suspect he did not realize it in his fury.

Okay so? You broke the bed, that’s not sufficient for him to just stop like that! There are more pressing matters than a stupid bed!

Like breeding you

That’s what truly matters!

He keeps stuffing you up, his teeth still clasped on your shoulder to keep you in place, his ears flapping around like a kid who received candy.

Fucking you like a jackhammer, plowing you down like a fuckdoll as he ferociously caresses your clit, feeling your pussy kneading his cock as it convulsed all around him.

He can feel each drop of your slick running down his scales like a trail of flames, stinging his flesh so lovingly he feels his dorsal fin freeze still, so full of raw tension.

He circles and caresses and fondles your sweet pearl in sheer contrast to his bestial fuck.

It does feel good to let go of the leash of his inner inhibitions, he contemplates in a surprising moment of clarity.

Let’s just hope you don’t hold it against him...

You huff and pants, feeling Steb’s tongue lapping your skin, still holding down on your shoulder. You feel something warm roll down your skin as his purr perks up.

He bit you to blood

That doesn’t... Feel too painful strangely?

Instead, you feel a warm and numbing sensation spreading in your muscles sore from sex like a poison was poured into your veins slowly.

Steb’s arms tighten around you as he raises his head to look at you, blood drops pearling at his lower lips that he licks avidly, his blue eyes almost glowing with lust as he savors your blood with a delighted carnivorous grin.

This vision is so otherworldy

And hypnotizing

You cum right here and there under your lover’s careful and attentive gaze. You throw your head back into the pillow, your toes curling as pleasure waves crash on you like a furious tsunami threatening to drown you

Did you scream?

Did you cry?

Did you pass out?

You don’t know

You just know you went deaf and blind under the fire of and orgasm so profound you think you might even have died in the arms of Steb’s to open your eyes as a rebirth...

Steb roars, looming over you, as he feels your pussy try to retain him inside. He finally allows himself to come as he presses his swollen knot at the gate of your pussy, digging his nails in your flesh.

Again, he feels your pussy stretch wide to welcome it inside and plug you shut and spurt his virile semen deep inside of you

He lets out the deepest sigh as your pussy kneads his length to milk him dry.

He is addicted to that sensation

He... He wants it again...

One more

Please

Petit coeur, please....

He will beg if he has to!

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

“Ah...! Ste-Steb... Please...” You pant, face first into the pillow, drooling all over the fabric as Steb licks the remnant of blood on your shoulder.

He likes that metallic taste, it tingles his tongue, its a very funny sensation but far from unpleasant. His purr rises up toward the ceiling like musical notes as he nudges his nose in the crook of your neck before straightening his back.

“Pleeeaaaaaa-AH!...”

He rolls his hips again to sush you, holding your arms in your back, your butt in the air.

He quite like that position too, you are hopeless under him like that, that makes him drool profusely

That excites his hunting instincts...

“It’s been... My timer...” You try to formulate a sentence but Steb’s rhythmic thrusts are going to your head, “My timer went off... Ages ago...”

Indeed

He heard it more than two hours ago

He did not feel like releasing you just yet. He entered his heat cycle, he needs a lot of love and attention from you from now on... Love that he will give back a hundred times, of course, Petit coeur.

And you are just so cute with that dumb blissful expression on your face like that! Eyes rolled, mouth agape, panting hard, and drool all over your face!

This is such a sight, it keeps him so hard! He wants to give you even more!

His other hand keeps massaging your clit as he feels your slick and his semen dripping on your thighs to you both, you leak so much the sheet under you can’t absorb your essence anymore that a puddle formed.

This is so obscene!

So deviant!

He loves it!

You moan desperately as he pushes his knot inside once more, cumming deep inside again, together like one. He gently caresses your swollen tummy, full of his cum, tracing sweet circle on your soft skin.

If you do not get pregnant after that... He’s actually going to lose it for good.

He hisses as your pussy lazily milk him for all his worth and all your limbs go limp with exhaustion. Your trembling legs give out under you as you crash down with him on the mattress. Steb chuckles lightly, laying on top of you, pinning you down with his weight, and tenderly kisses your cheek while you desperately gasp.

He nudges himself against you, taking your hand to intertwine your fingers as both of your hearts beat in a frenzy, appreciating that moment of intimacy.

He will run you a warm bath, cook you a delicious and filling dinner, and massage you thoroughly to ease your sore muscles. Then you will watch a movie, read, play board games, or he will play you his violin!

Whatever you wish to do Petit coeur.

He just loves you so much...

He wants to spend his life taking care of you

So he thinks he is going to give you two or three more orgasms, just for good measure!

Just for you.

What can he say? He is generous by nature and a little bit of a tease when he wants!

@dance-like-russia-isnt-watching @brandy-and-bane @sp-the-fae-queen @aeeliy @sanktastuff @telephoneonawire @daichisito @sofiyathelast-blog

#steb #steb my love #steb x reader #steb arcane #steb imagine #steb fics #steb smut #arcane smut #arcane x reader #arcane fics #arcane imagine #fanfic #neuvilette tea party

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