#The news are that they are getting married

[fushitoru]

chapter 8: the lake a bridgerton au

pairing ⸺ duke!satoru gojo x fem!reader

summary ⸺ dearest gentle reader, a new season is upon us as the ton gets ready for a season filled with drama, heartbreak, and passion. after being crowned diamond of the season, duke gojo⸺only looking to marry just to secure his inheritance⸺has his sights set on you, the easiest (and most obvious) option. later, when you catch his saying unsavory things about you on a terrace when he least suspected it, you swear to never marry gojo. as london's fashionable set goes through yet another wedding season, will there be hope for scandalous gossip, hate, and thinly veiled insults, or will we witness blooming love and passion?

warnings �� nsfw, enemies to lovers, bridgerton au, angst, fluff, SUGGESTIVE, making out, touching bare skin pre-marriage (the scandal), eventual smut, jealousy, misogyny, description of injury, concussion, blood, regency era au, gojo being infuriating, reader also being infuriating, both of them are clueless honestly

chapter summary ⸺ both you and gojo discover contradictory feelings lodged deep in your heart, and a confrontation (with an unexpected ally) leads to a rather....wet conclusion. (4.6k)

a/n additional warning that this chapter is not beta read. this may seem like a short chapter but it has TEAAAA (if you didnt already guess from the summary). i pushed myself to finish this for the peeps who finished finals this week so it may be a bit messy. anywho see u down below <3

prev. the rebound | next. soon!

general masterlist | series masterlist

Dearest gentle reader,

This Author finds herself most intrigued by the unfolding events of the Inos' recent ball. It appears that Her Majesty has not yet abandoned her faith in the diamond she so carefully selected. Will her confidence prove to be misplaced? Only time shall reveal the truth. Yet one cannot deny that fortune seems to shine—dare this Author say, sparkle—upon Miss Itadori of late.

Last evening, she graced the ballroom with a strikingly altered appearance, one that left tongues wagging and gazes lingering. Most notable, however, was the company she kept. Duke Nanami himself was seen at her side, engaged in conversation that appeared both earnest and uncommonly animated. A rare sight indeed, for His Grace has shown little interest in the charms of other young ladies this season. Could this be the beginning of something extraordinary? This Author will watch closely.

And who could forget the Gojo house party, where the drama rivaled even the most lurid novels of the circulating library? Whispers abound of a certain Lord Naoya Zen’in, who, it seems, departed the event looking rather... bruised, both in pride and in visage. What transpired to cause such a spectacle? Alas, my sources have yet to provide all the particulars, but one can only assume that tempers flared—and perhaps fists followed.

⸻ LADY WHISTLEDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS

Satoru wipes his knuckles on a spare handkerchief, marring it with streaks of crimson. After the blood coating his hand is cleaned off, it reveals light bruises. 

He always abhorred such physical entanglements. Let other men soil their reputations in drunken brawls or duels over imagined slights; Satoru prided himself on wit and charm, a tongue sharp enough to parry any insult.

However, for the first time, it seemed that the blasé duke-to-be Lord Satoru Gojo, ever so apathetic to others and their struggles, was not so blasé anymore. What affected him was contradictory; after all, he had made a big decision to avoid being affected by the woman herself. So why was he so…inconsistent? Perhaps it is this unpredictability, capriciousness the reason he has to distance himself from any others who may be in harm’s way—the way forged by Satoru himself. There is no space for inconstancy, irresponsibility, whimsicality, or contradiction in his life, especially not with his duties and the weight held over his shoulders. 

But he allows himself this, one last time. Your expression lingered in his mind—the way your lips parted in shock, the stiff set of your shoulders as you brushed past Naoya’s lecherous words without deigning to respond. He had seen the moment your composure faltered, a crack in the armor you wore so effortlessly. The crack only he was supposed to cause.

It was intolerable.

As soon as pale pink ribbons trail out of the room, he moves toward Naoya, completely ignoring the lady who was talking to him and her trailing protests. When he’s right in front of the other man, he gives him a curt nod. “Naoya.”

The other man’s eyes—which were before no doubt prowling on other unsuspecting ladies—flit to him in surprise. “Lord Gojo, what a pleasant surprise. I daresay—”

“Meet me in the courtyard,” Satoru interrupted, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Naoya’s brows shot up, but he recovered quickly, a sly grin curling his lips. “A private word? How intriguing. Lead the way, my lord.”

Satoru didn’t wait to see if he followed. His stride was steady, his purpose unwavering.

The cool air of the courtyard carried the faint strains of music from the ballroom, the chatter of guests dimmed by the stone walls. Satoru turned to face Naoya, his stance deceptively relaxed, one hand resting on the pommel of his cane.

“Now, my lord,” Naoya drawled, his smirk widening. “To what do I owe this rather dramatic summons?”

The reply came not in words but in the swift arc of Satoru’s fist, connecting solidly with Naoya’s jaw. The sharp crack of the blow shattered the stillness, and Naoya stumbled, clutching his face as shock registered in his eyes.

“What in blazes—”

“Hold your tongue,” Satoru bit out, seizing Naoya by the lapels of his coat and slamming him back against the cold, unyielding wall. His tone was calm, his voice low, but it carried a menace that silenced all protests. “You will not speak of her in that way again. Do you understand me?”

Naoya grimaced, his defiant eyes narrowing despite the pain. “Ah,” he sneered, a breathless rasp laced with derision, “this is about Miss Itadori, isn’t it? Playing the chivalrous hero, are we, Lord Gojo? Or is it your own wounded ego driving this display?”

The next punch silenced him mid-taunt, burying deep in his abdomen. Naoya doubled over with a strangled gasp, his knees threatening to buckle, but Satoru held him upright, his grip vice-like.

“Speak her name again,” Satoru hissed, leaning close, his voice cold enough to chill even the night air, “and I swear you’ll find yourself in far worse condition.”

The tension between them crackled like a storm. For a fleeting moment, Naoya’s lips twitched into the ghost of a sneer, but his words died unspoken, arrogance muted by the sheer force of Satoru’s fury. Satisfied, Satoru released him with a sharp shove, watching dispassionately as Naoya crumpled against the wall, gasping for breath.

“You are mad,” Naoya spat, wiping at the blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. “You’ll ruin yourself over this.”

“Perhaps,” Satoru replied evenly, smoothing the cuffs of his sleeves as though nothing had happened. “But I’ve never much cared for your opinion, Naoya.”

He turned on his heel, his steps measured, his expression impassive.

The sting in his knuckles was a small price to pay. Unfortunately it seemed that for you, it was a price he would pay again and again.

He had told himself the decision was rational. Logical. Your match had to cease because it had begun to unravel him. You were a distraction, one he could not afford. His life was designed for control, every action measured, every move calculated. A match with you, he had realized, would be unlike any other. It would mean more. It would demand more.

And yet, how could he feel this jealousy? This fierce protectiveness? It was contradictory, maddening even. His resolve to avoid entanglements of the heart warred against the memory of your laughter echoing through his mind. It was absurd, but he could not dismiss the sharp ache in his chest whenever you looked at another man, especially one so undeserving as Naoya Zen’in.

He had known from the start that you were different. No coy smiles or simpering obedience. No easy conquest to stroke his ego. Your instant rejection of him during your first meeting had been a blow to his pride and a revelation he had been too stubborn to acknowledge then.

Satoru was not a man who chased after women. He had no need to. And yet…

But even as he walked away, Satoru couldn’t help but feel the cracks in his own carefully constructed armor widening. What, indeed, was he doing?

You startle in your sleep, sitting up abruptly on your bed in the dark.

The season has taken a turn for the good, so far. With Whistledown singing your praises and the Queen not yet deciding to behead you, you were on the path of securing great prospects, whether it be with Duke Nanami or someone else.

“But you’re missing something, aren’t you?”

The voice is a low murmur, brushing the shell of your ear like the ghost of a touch. Your heart leaps to your throat as you twist toward the sound, your eyes darting across the dimly illuminated room. The corners of the chamber remain steeped in shadow, the moonlight doing little to ease your apprehension.

“Who’s there?” you whisper, clutching the sheets tighter, your knuckles whitening around the fabric.

The silence stretches, thick and oppressive, before a figure emerges from the shadow near the mantle. He moves with a predator’s grace, his steps silent against the floorboards. Even before he fully steps into the moonlight, you know who it is.

Gojo.

“You look startled, my lady,” he says, his voice carrying an infuriatingly casual lilt, though his gaze fixes on you with unnerving precision.

“This is a dream,” you murmur, your voice trembling despite your effort to remain calm. “You are not real.”

“And yet,” he replies. “here I am. Curious, isn’t it?”

You swallow hard, the lump in your throat refusing to budge. He’s closer now, standing at the foot of your bed, his pale hair catching the silvery light like a halo—an angel or a devil, you can’t decide. “What do you want, Lord Gojo?” you demand, your voice sharper than you feel.

His eyes sweep over you, lingering for a moment too long before meeting your gaze again. “To commend you, of course,” he says. “You’ve been doing well—dancing with dukes, charming the Queen. The season’s darling.”

His words cut, though you can’t say why. “Why does that matter to you?” you snap, sitting straighter, as though defiance could shield you from the heat simmering in his gaze.

“It doesn’t,” he replies smoothly, though the corner of his mouth quirks into a smirk that betrays him.

“Then why are you here?”

His answer doesn’t come in words. Instead, he steps closer, his boots brushing the edge of your rug. Slowly, deliberately, he reaches out, his gloved hand catching a strand of hair that’s fallen loose. He rolls it between his fingers, as though testing its silkiness, before letting it slip away. “Because I can’t seem to stay away,” he murmurs. His voice is low, meant only for you, and it sends a shiver through your body.

You scoff, though the sound catches in your throat. “You’re insufferable.”

His chuckle is soft, a deep rumble that seems to linger in the air. “And yet, you don’t look away.”

Your fists clench around the sheets, anger flaring in your chest—anger at him, at yourself, at the fact that he’s right. Before you can stop yourself, you throw the covers aside and rise to your feet. 

He doesn’t step back. Instead, he stands still, a study in casual defiance, though his gaze flickers with something you can’t name as you move closer. His eyes lazily drag up and down your frame, which you notice is only covered in a flimsy, almost translucent nightgown.

“If this is a dream,” you say, your voice trembling with fury and something unspoken, “then it doesn’t matter what I do, does it?”

His smirk falters, replaced by a glimmer of uncertainty that only fans the reckless fire inside you. “Perhaps not,” he murmurs, though the tension in his voice betrays him.

Your hands shake as you reach out, your fingers curling into the lapels of his coat. His eyes follow the movement, then stare back at you, into your eyes. For a brief moment, his breath hitches, and his hands twitch at his sides, as though warring with the instinct to touch you. But the flicker of surprise in his eyes tells you he didn’t expect this.

With a sharp tug, you pull him closer, your lips meeting his in a collision of unspoken longing, yearning, and pining. The kiss is unsteady at first, as if both of you are testing the waters, but it quickly deepens, becoming a clash of fire and desperation. His hands find your waist, his grip firm but not demanding, as if he’s holding on to something precious.

You press closer, letting the reckless freedom the dream gave you sweep you away. His lips part against yours, and the kiss turns slower, more deliberate, like he’s savoring the moment, savoring you, devouring you. But then, his hands shift, moving from your waist with a slow, tantalizing seductiveness. They skim over your hips, his touch deliberate, before trailing down to the curve of your thighs. His fingers brush over the soft fabric of your nightgown, the heat of his touch searing through the barrier like it isn’t there.

Your breath hitches as he lingers, his thumb tracing a path along the sensitive skin just above your knee. The sensation is electric, and yet it feels like forbidden ground—an intimacy you’ve never dared to imagine, even in your most audacious thoughts.

It’s then that the dream begins to unravel.

His form flickers, as though caught in the haze of a mirage, the sharp lines of his figure softening. The room darkens, the corners of your vision blurring as though the world is folding in on itself.

“No,” you whisper, the word barely audible over the sound of your own pounding heart.

He looks at you one last time, his eyes filled with an intensity that feels as real as your racing pulse. And then he’s gone, the dream dissolving into nothingness, leaving you gasping and clutching the sheets. When you wake, the echo of his touch lingers, the heat of his hands on your thighs an ache you can’t explain. You press trembling fingers to your lips, your breath catching as though the kiss was still happening.

But no matter how much you try, you can’t shake the memory of his hands, of the way he’d touched you like he belonged there. Like he had always belonged there.

You choose to blame the irregular slumber you have gotten this past fortnight as the reason why you are being so discourteous. For Duke Nanami’s words drift your mind, never truly being registered, as you both had strolled, promenading hand in hand. 

It is not merely His Grace who suffers from your inattentiveness. Any suitor who dares to approach is met with the same distracted gaze, your thoughts elsewhere. Whether it is the lingering remnants of that unbidden dream—one you’ve tried and failed to forget—or the fleeting moments where you think you spot Lord Gojo across the green only to realize it is a figment of your imagination, your mind is a battlefield.

A few awkward conversations—where you are not truly present—pass and go, until you sit by the lakeside of Surrey Park, deciding to take a break from the conversations that awaited you if you were to stroll towards your family’s pavilion.

But not now, for here, nature offers solace. The gentle ripple of water, the soft rustling of leaves, the occasional bird song—all soothe the cacophony in your head.

You settle onto a bench, your gown fanning around you, and allow yourself to breathe. But even as you close your eyes and tilt your head toward the sun, the peace does not come. Your thoughts betray you, circling back to him—his infuriating smirk, his piercing gaze, the way his voice seemed to linger in the air long after he was gone. The dream was completely unbidden, unexpected. You had only started to move on and start this season anew. It seemed as your consciousness was working against you in an effort to bring fictional desires to life. 

You knew clearly that Gojo was infuriating, and had colored your name. So why must your mind actively go against what was clearly a certitude?

Before you could ponder on your thoughts for much longer, you heard her.

“You do seem terribly at ease for someone of your…reputation.”

The voice startles you, cutting through your reverie like a blade. Your eyes snap open, and there stands Lady Mei Mei, her expression a mask of genteel venom. You sigh inwardly, and bring on your best smile, albeit artificial. “Lady Mei Mei,” you greet, striving for composure. “To what do I owe this very unexpected…interruption?”

“Interruption?” she echoes, feigning offense. “How quaint. I merely wished to congratulate you on your newfound popularity. Though, I must say, the…boldness of your wardrobe choices does make one wonder.” Her gaze drags over your form, disdain dripping from every word. “Are you seeking a husband, my dear, or something far less respectable?”

Your fingers curl into the fabric of your skirt, but you maintain your poise. “Boldness, Lady Mei Mei, is often mistaken for confidence by those unfamiliar with either.”

Her lips twitch, but the venom remains. “Confidence, or desperation? It is difficult to tell with one so eager to flaunt herself before the ton. Tell me, do you find it tiring? Whoring yourself out for attention?”

The word lands like a slap, sharp and stinging, and you feel the surge of heat rise to your cheeks. Slowly, deliberately, you rise to your feet, smoothing the folds of your gown as you stand. Your chin tilts upward, a shield of composure against the venom Mei Mei has hurled your way. You desperately fight the urge to slap her into nonsense, but there are eyes, no matter how hidden from public view you may think yourself to be.

“I find it far less tiring than wielding envy as one’s primary weapon,” you reply, your voice cool yet cutting, every syllable sharpened to a blade. “But then, I would not expect you to understand.”

Mei Mei’s lips twist into something that might have been a smile, had it not been dripping with malice. Her eyes narrow, the sunlight catching the cold glint of her stare. She shifts closer, the deliberate grace of her steps at odds with the tension crackling in the air. For a moment, you think she might lash out—a slap, a shove, something physical to match her words.

But before the storm can break, a voice, smooth and deceptively warm, cuts through the charged silence.

“Lady Mei Mei.”

Your breath hitches, and you whip your head around to see him. Lord Gojo strides toward you both, his movements as fluid and effortless as a ripple across the lake’s surface.

For a moment, your mind stutters, unable to reconcile the sight before you. He’s here. Not lingering at the edges of the crowd, not offering a polite nod of acknowledgment before disappearing into the fringes of Surrey Park. No, he’s walking toward you with purpose, the light catching in his silver hair, his focus unerringly fixed on the scene unfolding before him.

The man who had, for days, seemed to find every excuse to avoid you (and you him), whose gaze had flicked past you as though you were nothing more than a fixture of the lawn—he was now approaching with a startling intensity, his presence impossible to ignore.

His expression is inscrutable, but the faint furrow of his brow betrays something darker beneath the veneer of his charm. The tension in his jaw, the faint set of his shoulders—it all speaks of an intent that sends a shiver down your spine.

“Lord Gojo,” you whisper under your breath, your voice barely audible over the blood rushing in your ears. What is he doing here? And why, when he looks at you, does it feel as though the air has shifted?

Lady Mei Mei recovers first, her voice cutting through your disarray like a blade. “Lord Gojo,” she purrs, her saccharine tone a stark contrast to the venom she had wielded moments earlier. “What a surprise to see you here.”

But you can’t take your eyes off him. You’re too stunned, too disoriented by his sudden appearance and the sheer force of his presence. Why must he appear now? 

His gaze flicks briefly to Mei Mei, his lips curving into a polite smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, before his attention returns to you. And when it does, it’s as though the world narrows to the space between you.

“Not half as surprising as overhearing this delightful conversation,” he says, his tone light, almost lazy, but there’s an edge to it—a sharpness that wasn’t there before. His eyes meet yours again, and this time, the intensity in them is impossible to ignore. Your breath holds itself in, your confusion and shock colliding with something you can’t quite name. There’s no teasing quip, no playful smirk to soften his words. Just the weight of his gaze, pressing down on you as though he’s searching for something you don’t understand. Then, he returns it to Mei Mei. “I was unaware you had taken to dispensing moral judgments, my lady. Though I suppose one must occupy their time somehow.”

The barb lands, and Mei Mei’s smile falters. Her spine stiffens, her fingers twitching at her side, but Gojo doesn’t stop. He steps closer, his boots crunching against the gravel, and the shift in his demeanor is subtle but unmistakable.

“I would suggest, for the sake of civility,” he says, his voice softening to something far more dangerous, “that you refrain from such remarks in the future.”

The crowd, drawn by the commotion, murmurs from a distance. You feel their gazes prickle against your skin, their curiosity thickening the already-tense air. Mei Mei’s cheeks flush a pale pink, and her hands clench at her sides, the effort to maintain her composure palpable.

“You dare—” she begins, but Gojo cuts her off, his voice a degree colder now.

“I dare a great many things, my lady. Do not test the limits of my patience.”

The words hang heavy in the air, silencing the murmurs of the crowd. Mei Mei’s breath quickens, and though her lips curl into a sneer, the fire in her eyes dims. After a moment, she dips her head again, but this time it’s no longer polite. It’s forced, a concession.

“Very well, my lord,” she says, her voice tight. “I can see when my presence is no longer welcome.”

Lady Mei Mei walked past you to exit the scene, clearly disgraced after Lord Gojo had surprisingly butted in to your defense. Her turn was sharp, and her skirts flared. Then, she did something you hadn’t expected. After all, you were nonplussed from Gojo’s appearance in of itself that you did not have much awareness of your physical environment. Foremost of all, you were furious. How dare he waltz into the scene, aiming at playing hero and gentleman after all he has done to you this season? The anger consumed you, leaving you ignorant to Lady Mei Mei's schemes.

The movement came quickly—a flick of her hand, subtle yet purposeful, as though she intended to brush away an inconvenience. Only, her target was not the hem of her gown or an errant lock of hair. It was you. That is, that was the intention of the action. However, fortuitously enough for you, Lord Gojo had noticed it.

With a sharp tug, his hand closed around your wrist, pulling you aside just as Lady Mei Mei's push landed—on him.

The splash was enormous.

For a moment, the world stood still, the lake swallowing the ripples as though it too were stunned by what had just transpired. Around you, gasps echoed, punctuated by the soft clink of champagne glasses dropped in surprise. All eyes turned toward the water, toward the spot where Gojo had disappeared.

Your pulse pounded erratically, caught between the shock of it all and the mortifying realization that everyone was watching. Watching and waiting.

And then, like something out of a scandalous painting that no young lady of good breeding ought to admit having seen, Gojo emerged.

The water clung to him as though reluctant to let go, his white shirt turned sheer and pasted to his torso, revealing every lean muscle and curve beneath. Droplets trailed from the tips of his silver hair, tracing maddening paths down the sharp edges of his jaw before disappearing beneath the soaked fabric. His black necktie clung damply to his throat, accentuating the hollows there, and when his eyes met yours—gleaming with mischief and something darker—your breath hitched.

It was obscene. 

The crowd seemed to agree, though their response was far less scandalized than you might have expected. The ladies weren’t laughing; no, their gazes were riveted, their fans fluttering in a feeble attempt to hide their obvious fascination. Their admiration was palpable, their whispers laden with awe.

Flustered, you took a few steps back to give him space and to not drench yourself (a/n lmaooo you’re drenched already bestie), but you mentally noted to yourself to make his pectorals bigger in your dreams (not that you would continue to have such salacious dreams, of course. It was the mind creating desires you never had, obviously.) It was apparent that you were still very distracted, for you did not notice the two pairs of footsteps rushing towards your direction, towards Gojo.

“What happened?” Duke Nanami looked at Gojo’s very…wet state, concerned and alarmed. “What did you get yourself into this time, Satoru?”

Gojo, who was still wiping water from his hair and grinning like a fool, gave him an exaggerated look of innocence. He ran a hand through his damp, platinum hair, the gesture almost too casual for someone in his drenched state. As he did so, the hem of his shirt inched upward, revealing a tantalizing sliver of bare skin, a sliver that led downward to a trail of white hair disappearing beneath his waistband—

“Kento,” Gojo laughed heartily, as if there were nothing amiss. “You worry too much! A little water never hurt anyone.”

Lord Geto, on the other hand, had been trailing behind Nanami. At the sight of Gojo, he started laughing, snickering mischievously at the sight.  He had a knowing look on his face, as if he were fully aware of the scene he was witnessing—Gojo’s accidental plunge into the lake being just another moment of unintentional chaos.

“Oh, Satoru, you're impossible.” Geto stepped closer, shaking his head in mock disbelief, but his smile was far too amused to be truly accusatory or reproachful. "Did you get knocked into the lake by your own... charm?" His voice dripped with sarcasm as he glanced at the crowd of ladies now eyeing Gojo as though he were some mythical creature freshly emerged from the depths.

Nanami sighed, his brow furrowing as he crossed his arms in that ever-earnest manner that seemed to constantly play contrast to Gojo’s reckless energy. “This is exactly why you need a keeper at all times, Satoru.”

Gojo, still basking in the odd mix of amusement and the lingering attention of the nearby ladies, merely shrugged. “I’m fine, Kento. Just a little... refreshment is all.”

“By the looks of it,” Geto continued with a raised brow, “I’m more concerned about you than you are of yourself.” He gestured with a lazy wave, motioning toward the way the water had soaked through Gojo’s shirt, revealing a lot more than was likely intended. “And, I mean, look at that—those ladies aren’t gazing at you for your intellect.” (a/n LMAO ate him up)

Before Gojo could lob a retort, Nanami interjected with his trademark no-nonsense tone. “Enough of this,” he said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You’re soaked to the bone. Let’s get you inside before you catch a chill—or create an even bigger scene.”

Gojo lingered for a moment, casting a leisurely glance around the gathering. The ladies, previously locked in their own conversations, now shamelessly ogled him, their fans fluttering uselessly against the rising heat in their cheeks. Their gazes trailed after him as he started to walk away, and you swore you caught more than one wistful sigh among the crowd.

And yet, even as he moved farther from the lake and closer to the house, his steps deliberate and unhurried, he suddenly stopped. Slowly, his head turned, and his piercing blue gaze found yours with unnerving accuracy, as if he’d felt your bewildered stare all along.

His smile appeared—lazy, confident, and maddeningly seductive. The corner of his mouth tilted up just enough to make your stomach flip, and his eyes... Oh, his eyes. They gleamed like a predator’s, sharp and teasing, and yet impossibly inviting.

The world seemed to tilt, the air around you thickening. Your chest tightened with the realization: that smile wasn’t for the crowd, nor for the fawning ladies he left in his wake.

It was for you.

Your cheeks burned, your thoughts a chaotic mess as he turned back and sauntered away, water still dripping from his hair and shirt. The ladies continued to gawk openly, but you remained rooted to the spot, your heart pounding erratically.

Oh, that bastard.

prev. the rebound | next. soon!

general masterlist | series masterlist

a/n so....erm this was definitely a CHAPTER.....BUT AH POOKIES ITS HERE i got so excited bc i got the idea to write his lake fall so i finished this chapter. it's a bit messy, like i said, but i hope you liked it <333

I WANT TO SUCK GOJOS DICK BADLYYY i think this chapter was posted so fast after the last bc im on my period and im horny so hence the lake scene was born like i rawdogged this shit in five hours

ANYWYAS THERES PUSH AND PULL YEARNING PINING...so much contradiction hmmmmmm

miss itadori malfunctioning when gojo got out of the water (like a complete SLUT)

anyways i hope some of you WHORESS that simped for bridgerton!geto will be coming anew to simp for our main MAN. this debauchery i approve of. i fear all anons, especially zaynesbathrobe anon and anon in my walls, will be having a field day with this one

thank you for readinggg! please comment and reblog to let me know ur thots :3 (esp reblog, a lot of people have been binging bridgerton!gojo recently and spam liking. tumblr daddy might lock me up and shadowban me/mark my account, so reblogs would be appreciated <3)

TAGLIST:

@ncitygreen @backstagepaige @serinatly100986 @nappingmoon @coochellati

@extremelyexh4usted @yoshisaurmuchakoopas @nixiepixee @generalstephkenobi @vernasce-blogs

@byhuenii @geniejunn @a-girl-with-thoughts @dazedin2d @chuuqxs

@megumiivs @anthastudios @arranacosmist @arishaxml @jingyuun

@undercooked-chaos-noodle @jaegersity @camzzn @bluelai @1sweetheart1

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@yamiyas @cherry-blossoms-in-red @r3inae @lagataprrr @sasfransisco

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@soobssedwithyourex @manyno @samkysnks @stefnarda @bbqsauceonmytitties2

[madamechrissy]

Cursed Promises

Pairings: Sukuna x Fem reader

CW: This chap, loss of virginity (reader's) Sukuna fks reader with both his cocks, (yayyy) lots of use of all his tongues and mouths, some semi public play, Sukuna calls you little bunny and slutty/whore etc, soft Sukuna, he's falling fast tbh, reader is falling quicker, lil bit of degradation, true form Sukuna, THIS CHAP IS ALMOST ALL SMUT lol you're warned.

Summary: You have been promised to Ryomen Sukuna, King of curses, for as long as you've been alive, ostracized from your village, 'special'. Now you are to marry him, sight unseen. People everywhere fear him, but will you find yourself intrigued by him. Just who is the King of Curses to his new wife? Arranged marriage au

A/N: This is ALL fluff and SMUT lol, Four Parts, you're not gonna get much plot, I really wanted monsterfucking and them being cute!? don't ask.- WC this chap-7.2k

Comments/ reblogs appreciated if you like this silly stuff ❤️

<<<Part Two

Part Three

One week Later

You have not seen the King of curses for days, he had gone off to take care of some disturbances amassing, and was not coming home until hopefully tonight. You find yourself looking hopefully every time there is a knock on your door to your chambers, or every time you hear horses pull up out front. But it’s not him, and the worst?

You did not get to tell him goodbye beforehand.

Of course, he does not owe you such things, and it was very new, but you already have grown to be enamored with him, so very intrigued, and… of course you desire him. It’s written all over your body, all over your face, even days later you have bruises decorating your waist and hips from where his strong hands gripped, little scratches healing where nails had pressed in

You remember the feeling, so blissful that night right on the dining table, he’d brought you so much pleasure you felt more drunk than any amount of wine could ever make you. You can’t even imagine how it could get better, how there could be even more to sex than that, but then you remember those hard cocks, pressed against your eager pussy.

Heat creeps to your cheeks at such a memory, you are pacing the halls when Uraume comes up to you, a little smile on their delicate features.

“The King has arrived.” Uraume says now, and your breath catches, you let out an embarrassing squeal, that you quickly try to hide, clearing your throat and tucking back your hair.

“Apologies, Uraume.” You bow your head, trying to regain composure.

“You’re very excited, I see.”

You sigh. “Very.”

“He wants you to meet him in the Onsen, I shall lead you there.” You heat up all over again, at the thought of being with the King there.

“Will we be alone?” You murmur, while Uraume leads you out, they tilt their head curiously at you.

“Are you asking if his concubines will bathe with you as well? No, the King has asked for you both to be alone.” You truly give up trying to hide how pleased this makes you.

You should not expect such treatment, it is not how things are even done, a King is expected to engage with his concubines and have several babies, have many heirs, it’s a sign of his fertility. You see them talking about you as they walk through the halls, in elegant kimonos showcasing much of their sleek forms, whispering behind their hands at you.

You cannot help but resent them, knowing they have had him, but it was surely foolish, they have done more than you already have with him, but you are ready, to truly give the King yourself. Though there is much to learn about the somehow cruel yet kind man, one thing was certain.

You want him.

A lady’s maid helps you undress, until you’re completely naked, your chest rising and falling with each nervous breath. You take the wrapped clothes and towel as you nervously slide the door open, feeling the hot steam rise, you see it then, his strong, muscled back as he is alone in the spring. Your eyes assess every inch you get to see greedily.

“Shut the door, bunny, you’ll let all the steam out.” Sukuna’s rough voice says then, you quickly do as he asks, setting the clothes and towel down, stepping into the hot bath now, exhaling as the heat sinks into your skin, relaxing every bit of your muscles when you step deeper.

He’s covered in new scars you notice faintly with a frown, he already had many, but as you step closer you get the full view of just how many he has. You stand there behind his towering form, water up to your breasts, when he looks back at you over his shoulder, red eyes assessing you hungrily.

“Wash my back, brat, or are you afraid?” You take the washcloth from his hands now, gently running it up and down.

“You asked for just me here, my King?” Your voice is soft, Sukuna leans his neck side to side, sighing while you gently scrub his skin.

“One bunny should be enough to wash me.” You snort, and he turns now, snatching your wrist, your hand an inch from his skin. “You laugh at me? More insolent from just a few days ago?”

“N-no, sorry my King.” You go to wash his chest, eyes darting up to his here and there, two of his hands rest on your naked waist under the water while his head tilts to study you.

“Something to say? Bunny looks angry.” His tone is mocking, you scowl up at him then, earning a wide grin.

“Ever think that I just missed you!?” He pauses then, four red eyes narrowing, stepping back away from you then. “What?”

“Miss me, you’re fucking foolish. All some ploy to toy with me?” He demands, cupping your chin, long fingers taking it over.

“What, no one has ever said they missed you?” You ask, softer, his grip relaxes, but he’s still cupping you under your chin, thumb over your fluttering little pulse.

“How can you? You do not know me hardly yet to come to miss me. Do you know who I am!?”

“I do, and I missed you. So what, going to order me not to?”

He exhales, stepping closer, the steam enwrapping you all in the beautiful room, lotus flowers floating in the softly undulating water, which laps over his torso and your chest softly. “Why?”

“Why do I miss you? I do not know exactly how to put it into words, I just…” You worry your lower lip nervously, pulling your wrist out of his hold, to rest your hand on his chest, feeling his pounding heart beat under hot skin. “I was very sad without you, and longed for your return.”

“Tch, you are so whiny.” You glare again, but he pulls you against him fully, you blush when you feel his lengths against you, when he leans low, wrapping two arms around you. “I suppose I also wished to hear your annoying voice, and see your stupidly pretty face.”

You brighten up, earning an eye roll. “You did!?”

“Shut it.” He kisses you then, brutal and hungry, you melt into the embrace, his bites making your lips tingle and burn, sharp tongue drinking your every cry, two hands gripping your ass, lifting you until your legs are around his waist, you feel his cocks pressing against you from under, you’re so close to him, grinding now, earning his groan.

The groan urges you on, you’re pressed against the wall of the bath, slick cunt gliding on the length of one of his cocks, his tongue on his stomach shoots out, licking your clitoris, and your head falls back for his sharp teeth. He bites you so hard it breaks your flesh, a trickle of blood falling down your collar bone, which his mouth drinks up, you see the blood on his chin, making him terrifying.

Terrifying and so sexy, you cannot take it then, you swipe some of your blood off him, kissing him and tasting it, the copper of it mixed with his heady taste. You’re rolling your hips, slick and hot against his abdomen, your own nails pressing against him, feeling the strong muscles tense under you.

He lifts you out of the bath then suddenly, you gasp, both of you are dripping water droplets everywhere, the steam floating up and surrounding you both, the room is so warm you are only shivering from desire. Sukuna has you on your back on several fluffy towels, leaning his heavy weight on you. You continue to be devoured by him, he’s kissing down your neck, to your breasts.

“This body, fuck.” He growls out the words, huffing while he sucks on your nipples, fingers slipping down your tummy, which trembles under his rough fingers, your back arching.

“Please, my King, touch me.” You beg now, he takes two fingers while two hands spread your thighs, sinking two thick fingers in your cunt, making you scream, while he presses up over and over on that spongy spot in your eager hole.

“Soaking wet, and begging, you’re so easy, so desperate, hmm?” You manage a glare, which he seems to entice him, he’s grinning down at you.

You take one of his cocks in your hand, watching him fall apart from a touch, his red eyes dilating so that they’re all almost black, hands touching every inch of skin he can find. “You’re so easy, mmm did you miss me?”

“I did not miss you at all, damned brat.” You giggle, but then his fingers are replaced by the head of one of his cocks, the other resting on top of your clit. You gasp as you feel the mushroomed reddened tip against that slick, the other dripping precum on you, creating pressure just from that. “Nothing else to say?”

“I… you… n-no, y-yes!” He doesn’t make fun of your pathetic little attempt to speak this time, he exhales, pressing in, and you feel so stretched just by his tip it’s insanity, even two of his fingers could not prepare you.

He sinks deeper then, pushing past that barrier, and you scream out, he pauses, leaning over you and allowing you to adjust, before pulling back, he’s on his knees, two hands gripping your hips, your back arches off the floor. Your hair is splayed on the towels, soaking wet still, while he stretches and fills you. You both moan out when your walls spasm around him.

“You’re… t-too big…” You whine, much to his amusement, two of his hands grip your breasts, the tongues lapping out all over them.

“I’m barely in, brat.” You gasp, eyes wide open, looking down, and he pushes even further, your wetness pooling around him, making it easier for Sukuna’s cock to sink even deeper in your little hole. “Still not even half in, f-fuck you’re too tight… loosen up this instant, I command it!”

“Loosen!? What!? Ah!” You scream out as he stuffs you more, and soon the pain is dissipating, replaced by insane pleasure, he moans out now, his cock inside you and the other, grinding on your clit, when he pulls that one out, leaning you up, pressing the other one inside you now, the lower cock grinding against your ass, feeling so lewd and so good.

“That’s it, look at you, taking me so well, cunt is made for her king.” He’s huffing now, and chuckles, grabbing your chin when your eyes roll back. “Look, fucking you so deep- ha. Can see me.”

You look down, seeing the bulge of your tummy as he moves slowly inside of you, only serving to make you wetter, more sensitive, you scream out then when he sinks so deep he hits your cervix, bottoming out in you. The sight is so wanton and lewd, only serving to make you wetter, more sensitive, your eyes shoot back to his, he’s watching his cock move in you, watching your tummy move.

“Going to ruin you, little prey.” Sukuna is whispering the words, and you are wriggling under him at the pressure, at the stimulation, his tongue in his stomach lapping at your clit again, then.

“Too much, too much I’m - ah!” You shatter then, falling apart all around the thick cock pummeling you now, faster and harder, his huge body overtaking you, you’re seeing little glittery stars, more intense than you’ve felt before with him even.

“That’s it, cumming so easy, your first time, too?” He’s teasing you with a gruff voice, you’re too far gone now though, not even here anymore, shaking as you struggle to stay tethered. “Ready for me to stop taking it easy?”

“Taking it easy- wh-what now?” He’s grinning wickedly, those four eyes all lidded, when he presses your thighs up high, folding you in half. “Sukuna!”

“You can take it bunny, be a good girl would you?” You’re being pumped so full then it’s insane, you hear the loud smacks of skin while one of his cocks is fucking into your heat, he keeps dragging you on each one, your cunt is drooling down their veiny lengths, while your mouth is drooling, he swipes some of it with a smirk. “Pathetic, fucked out little bunny.”

You want to retort, you want to glare, but you are indeed pathetic, when he’s fucking you like this, harder and harder, so deep as he smushes your body, you feel like you’re splitting in half. Just as you get used to one sensation, one hand is licking your tits, your neck, his tongues alternate lapping at your clit, his cock shifts to the other one. Now he’s thickening in you, two hands pulling on your hair.

“Can’t wait till I can put both in you… fill your body fucking everywhere.” Your cunt is so slick it’s slippery, even as huge as he is, she’s sucking him in, and it feels so fucking good, him fucking into you over and over. “Feel so fucking- f-fuck…”

Sukuna is cussing, that mixing with the squelching wetness and loud slaps of skin intermingles with your cries, echoing in the Onsen. You wriggle to pull back but he pins your hips, Sukuna is pounding your pussy beyond its limits, switching cocks again, while his hands and mouths devour every inch of you, littering you with marks and bruises that you crave.

“That’s it, bunny, want this heir inside of you? I’m going to put one there, right fucking there.” He whispers, pressing a hand on your tummy, and you whine pathetically unable to form a coherent thought. “Beg for it, to get filled by your king.”

“P-please, f-fill me. Give me… your heir…” You manage to squeak out, you can barely recognize your hoarse little whimper, while Sukuna growls right above you, your hands yank him down by his broad muscled shoulders, pulling his mouth to yours. “K-kiss me.”

“Demanding little-” Too late, you’re pulling this strong man down on you, while his hands press into the backs of your thighs bruisingly and his cock is shoved so deep, he moans right into your lips, as he brings you again, his tip dragging against your spot in your walls, while one of his tongue shoots out on your clit again, circling the little nub while he moans into your mouth.

“S-Sukuna!” You scream out hoarsely, unlatching your lips, taking several greedy breaths while he pushes so deep, drooling tip on your cervix. He gasps himself now, tensing, as you both kiss sloppy, he pulls back and exhales against your lips.

“Let me feel you cumming on my cock again, Bunny. Now.” You let him think it’s his order, but you’re already there, orgasm blinding you, your head would slam on the floor if one of his hands wasn’t carefully resting under it, you cum all over his cock, dripping everywhere, while he fills you so full, groaning against your lips.

Your walls are pulsing around his thick cock, milking him for everything he has, and he’s cumming so much, one cock filling you while the other pumps hot sticky cum on your tummy, painting your skin in white rope patterns. It stretches from your belly button up between your breasts. The heat of his cum makes you clench around him, while his strong arms drag you further on his length.

“S-Sukuna!” You’re sobbing now, you can barely fucking breathe when he’s still got you stuffed so full.

“Took all of it, and need more? You have such a greedy cunt.” Sukuna whispers, you try to focus on his face, try to bring yourself to, entire body tingling from the sensations.

“F-fuck…” Is all you manage, he snorts a bit, pulling out, moaning as the fluids of his cum and yours pour out of your abused pussy.

“Such a nasty mouth.” You halfheartedly glare, but it falls flat, when he’s bent down, pulling your puffy lips apart, the most satisfied smirk ever on his face. He then presses his fingers down the sticky substance coating your tummy, pussy, thighs, it’s all over, the mess he’s made you into.

“You’re so messy.” He bursts into a booming laughter at you now, he then dips a cloth into the water, handing it to you. “You’ll do it.”

“What now?” He raises a brow, and you raise one back.

“You made the mess, you will clean it.” He scoffs at you, but you shove the washcloth back in his hand, smiling and batting your lashes. “Go on now.”

“You insolent little brat. I am not your servant, I’m your king.” He cleans you though, swiping the mess off your tummy, then to your pussy, chuckling. “Wrecked you didn’t I?”

“Why did I miss you!? Ow!” You hiss now, blanching a bit when you see a little blood on the cloth. “What is-”

“It happens the first time.” He carries on, until you’re all cleaned up, pulling you to sit now, hands tracing your bare body, still dewy from the bath. “You loved it, what a slutty virgin you were.”

“You’re so arrogant and annoying.” You smack at his hands now, going to stand, only to wobble on shaky legs. He’s laughing even more, wrapping arms around your hips.

“You can’t even fucking walk, hah! Shall I have a servant carry you, weakling?”

“Sure, naked and all, let them.” You shove off him again, knees damn near knocking when you turn away, only for Sukuna to yank you back against him, you feel the fury in his energy rising. “What is it, my King? Aren’t you done?”

“Done with you? Fuck no.” He starts walking you to where the towels are, wrapping you carefully, slinging a towel over his hips low, showing every inch of his tattooed, muscled frame. “Stop drooling, human.”

“You’re infuriating!” You feel it then, emotions of what just happened, finally hitting, when your mind is trying to piece together what happened.

“Tch, don’t start that crying now. I have told you it irritates me.” He cups your face, tilting your chin up as he leans down. “Stop it.”

“You’re arrogant and conceited, and rude! Do you not know… how it feels to for the first… how I…”

“Stop. I order it.”

“You can’t order tears away, all right? I want you to hold me, not laugh at me.” He tenses, hating the sight of the tears glimmering now.

“You’re so demanding, can’t you be a good wife, an easy one?”

“I suppose I cannot.” You turn and stomp out now, only for King Sukuna to chase you out in his towel. “Go away!”

“Don’t you dare speak that way.”

“Ah!” Sukuna has hoisted you over his shoulders as the concubines walk by, many of them eyeing you, Sukuna glares at them.

“What the fuck are you all looking at?” His towel drops then, and they are now giggling, Sukuna sets you on the floor, looking only at you. “Fix my towel, wife.”

You bend down, grabbing it with shaky hands, while they start whispering again amongst themselves, the guards are also watching with surprise and amusement while you tie a knot around his thick hips. The bulge of his cocks, which are still semi hard, is apparent, earning the ogling of the women.

Sukuna however just grabs you by the wrist, dragging you past them, without a look, turning when you get to his bedroom door and smirking down at you. “You’re a jealous brat.”

“Am not!” You cross your arms, huffing, but you do smile as you hear their footsteps scampering. “Your chambers?”

“Indeed, I said I’m not done with you.” He opens the heavy door, revealing the grand chamber that is his own, filled with ornate furniture, silk curtains billowing from the windows. A massive bed that could fit a dozen people adorned with crushed purple velvet covers and a black canopy.

“Your bed is so…”

“It’s made to fit many women. But my itty bitty bunny seems greedy.” He murmurs, shutting the door behind him with a resounding click, you exhale, walking to it, dropping your towel on the floor and peering over your shoulder. “Fuck… that backside will looks so good with my handprints.”

“Your handprints?” He walks to you, pausing your hand that is touching the soft blankets.

“Bend over.” His order thrills and terrifies you.

“No.”

“No!?” You grin, moaning softly when he does lift you, your legs dangling off the tall mattress, suspended there with your ass shown to him, earning a loud smack that you gasp at. “I see I will need to discipline you, hmm?”

“It is your duty as a husband.” You murmur, moaning when he smacks you again, two of his hands are spreading your ass cheeks apart, exposing your heat to his vision, he moans behind you.

“This gets you wet? Does everything I do get you wet?” He smacks you again, you just moan, you cannot help it, the pain just urges your drippy cunt on, still having him leak out of you.

“Y-yes, my King. It does- mnh.” Sukuna climbs on the bed, propping you on all fours, one hand shoving your face into the mattress, you hear the creak of his weight sinking on it, before you feel something hot and sticky drip down your ass. “What are you doing?”

He smacks your pussy now, you scream out into the pillow, while his saliva drips down your open pussy, then you feel his tongue lapping at you again. “You’re still pouring my seed out, perhaps I need to put more in you?” You moan then, shifting your hips, he chuckles. “So fucking eager.”

“You love it.” He pauses, lifting his hand off your head, you look back and bite your lip, shaky and overstimulated, but you want it, all of him again. “I am sore though, ah!”

“We need you to get used to this, I will not just fuck my bride once and call it a day.” His tongue slips inside your folds, pressing deeper, cleaning out all of his cum that’s left, slipping up to lap at your ass hole, he laughs as you squeak. “Ah and that’s your other hole.”

“I… you… now!? I…”

He clicks his tongue, letting his hand now grip your backside instead. “Not yet, calm down. Prissy bunny.”

“M’not- oh, oh!” He’s slipped a thumb inside your little ass hole now, moaning out as you do at the sensation, while he starts rubbing each tip back between your sore lips, precum already dripping out of them.

“You like it, such a whore already huh?” You should hate the term, but the way he says it, so pleasing. “My whore, aren’t you?”

“M’yours- Sukuna!” He’s pressing one tip, then the other, his body tensing as he feels your tight cunt drooling on them. “Not both, there’s no way I can.”

Sukuna rolls all four eyes, slipping between your folds, pressing one of his cock heads in, then the other. “Not all the way in, relax. An order.”

You’re still tense, while two strong hands spread your thighs while the other two run up and down your back, then he smacks your ass again. “Ah!”

“Breathe.���

You exhale nervously, and then you feel one tip press in, he fucks you just barely with it, you damn near cum from just that, before he’s got the other tip slipping in your entrance, his fingers leaving your ass and he’s rubbing a tip there too. You tense all over again, earning another smack.

“Relax, an order.” You exhale, nodding, and soon both tips are pressed in your tiny entrance, stretching you beyond your means, you can barely breathe, while he’s tensing behind you, pressing them both in, they rub and drool together while you feel the insane pressure in your lower tummy.

“Too much, too much!” You whine, and he exhales, pulling one out, sliding one fully in now, to the hilt. “Ah! S’good… please…”

“Please what, slutty fucking brat?” He huffs the words, you’re clutching the soft velvet with your hands, when he takes them and bounds them behind your wrist, fucking you harder and harder. “Fuck you feel so… perfect this cunt is… m-made… for…”

You swear you hear the King of Curses whimper.

Surely it was an illusion?

“More, please.” Is all you whine, and he does just that, pulling back out and slipping both tips in your cunt he’s stretched so well, he can only get the tips in still, but you’re cumming all over them, while your wrists are in his brutal grip, he’s rolling his hips, feeling you grip him like a fucking vise.

“F-Fuck.” He whispers your name then, not bunny or brat, a desperate cry escaping his mouth when he pumps his two tips in you over and over, gummy little walls and that tight ring of muscles stretching and gushing to accommodate. “That’s it, cum f’me, huh?”

You’re screaming against the soft pillows while you do, cumming all over the thick invasion in your cunt, they can’t even go deeper, she won’t allow it, but she’s throbbing around his drooly tips, begging for it, for more. He’s gripping your hips while he’s gripping your wrists, you’re at his mercy, helpless.

“Feel her, f-fuck. M’gonna cum in her again, both of em. Is that what you want?” You nod weakly. “Then say you want me to, now.” He uses a fourth hand to smack your ass, the smack echoing in the room, stinging. You turn your head to look back at him, gasping for a breath.

“Cum in me… with both. Please, Sukuna.” He groans out, pumping fast for a moment, his tips alone are burning your skin, he sinks just an inch in deeper, the stretch exhilarating, and then he starts spurting. “Ah!”

“Getting you pregnant tonight, wife, filling your fucking stomach with me.” He huffs, then the cum is pouring inside of your hole, the hot seed coating all your walls, bringing you to climax just from that again, you are too full, too full of him. He’s leaning over you, both cocks barely nestled, while he puts his lips to your ear. “Feel me?”

“All of you.” Your words and your cunt contracting make him sensitive, earning more seed sucked out, he pulls back and leans back to watch it all pour out while you weakly cry against the blankets, overwhelmed and fucked out.

“Look at how good she did.” He muses, and then his face is between your thighs, his tongue lapping at the drooling cum oozing out. “Taste us together.”

He pulls you up by your hair, arching your back, you open obediently as he spits in your mouth now, his cum, yours, and his saliva dripping, you swallow it, before he’s kissing you just like that, head upside down for his kisses, his hands everywhere on your bruised body. Soon he’s got you flipped and you’re straddling him, tears pouring on your cheeks.

“I’ll have my heir in your tummy by the end of the night, won’t I Bunny?” You nod weakly, wincing when he slides against your cunt.

“Ah-ah-ah!”

“You’re weak, can’t go again?” He earns a little shake of your head and a sniffle. “Fine, fine… I’ll let your pathetic human body rest.”

“Pathetic!?”

“Pretty but pathetic.” Soon he’s dressed in his robes, and you’re so weak you can barely move. You look at him through sleepy eyes.

“Must I leave now?”

“Tch, no, you may stay.”

“The night!?”

Sukuna rolls all four eyes. “If you must.”

“Yay!” You giggle, energy abounding suddenly, you jump off the bed and pull him down by his robes.

“So happy from just that?” He raises a brow, you just nod, pulling him for a kiss, hand entangled in pastel locks. He pulls back and cups your face, overwhelming you with all the emotions he unknowingly elicits, when your tummy growls.

“I’m so sorry!” You mumble, but he smirks.

“You need to eat, get your strength for another round.”

“No more rounds tonight, I cannot handle it.”

“You’ve got another in you. But you will eat, I’ll have them bring you up a tray of dinner. I still have much to do.” You pout. “What’s that look!?”

“An - I want another kiss- look.” He snorts, but obliges, hot lips on yours once more.

“You enjoy that overmuch, look at you all pleased.” You grin big, he pretends it doesn’t make his chest ache.

“Kissing you? Yes. I think it’s my new favorite thing.” You murmur, but he tenses just a bit at that, confused by you, before his shoulders relax and his lips are turned up at the corners.

“You’re cockdrunk again, little slut.” He loves how mad you get, while you cross your arms under those breasts, making him hard all over again.

“Am not!”

“Are so. Need another round?” He runs his fingers through your messy hair, a sheen of sweat making your smooth skin glitter.

“I hurt, though Sukuna.” You say with a pout.

He sighs in annoyance. “You’re such a baby. Now let me leave.” He steps back, shooting you a look, eyes drinking in your bare skin. “I’ll send up some things like your robes to keep in my chambers.”

Staying in Sukuna’s chambers!?

“Could you not look so pleased?” You straighten up, bowing your head, to his amusement as he steps out, he doesn’t see the silly giggle you do, and you don’t see his little hint of a smile.

What sort of bride has he gotten?

*****

Sukuna comes in later that night and sees you lightly snoring, so small in his enormous bed, curled in a little ball shivering, somehow you’ve kicked the blankets off you he notices. He undresses and slips under the covers, he’s of course had many women in his bed, but for some reason he is just a little nervous, until you blink sleepy eyes at him.

“Kuna.” You murmur, he snorts at that, while you turn to him, snuggling up, your icy hands and feet pressing against his hot skin.

“What is that name, and why are you so cold, woman? Cease touching me this very instant.” He tries to push you away, but you snuggle even closer. “You little pest, I swear to the gods.”

“You’re so warm, Kuna. Mmm.” Again, he hears the name, while you snuggle to him for warmth, curled up like a damn cat, warming up your chilled fingers while his hands all hold away from you, unsure of just what to fucking do with you.

“I will kick you on the fucking floor if you do not warm up.” You blink sleepy eyes up at him, cupping his face now, he glares at you.

“I am warming up, on you.” You scooch even closer, loving the feeling of his warm, hot body on yours. “I touched myself while you were gone.”

“What now!?” You’re giggling again, head in a daze from his orgasms and the wine that came with dinner, a meal you devoured, fucking certainly worked up an appetite it seems.

“Yes, but I did not do a good job, I think I have much to learn.”

“You will not touch yourself without me here again, that’s an order.” You smile against his chest, snuggling even closer, enjoying him tensing.

“Oh, why not?”

“Because…” He slips a hand under your robe, pressing against your aching cunt, slipping his fingers between glistening folds. You moan softly. “She is mine. I’ll not have you touching her without my permission.”

“Yours?” You whisper, he snorts, shoving your head back against him.

“How did I get the most annoying bride? Was there no one else in the village but your bratty ass?”

You scoff, before inhaling his scent, so musky and alluring. “Meanie. Hmm, you smell so good, Kuna.”

“Cease that stupid name, now. And why are you sniffing me?”

“Hmm, but you call me bunny.” You mumble, yawning. “And you sniff my hair and neck, so.”

“Psh.” He will not say so, but he’s enjoying you all over him far too much, you snuggling him, your tiny little body against his enormous one. He wants to protect you from anything and everything, it’s all setting in, he hates it, the irritating feeling clenching his chest.

And you feel like he will protect you, his four arms wrapping around you finally, wide muscled thigh pressing between your legs, he feels so perfect and warm. You’re still aching from earlier, where he’s just touched, but you damn near could go again, she’s throbbing around nothing when one of his huge hands presses on your back, and the other brushes across your cheek.

“Can I stay here every night?” You ask, eyes shutting again, you battle to keep them open, but you’re losing.

“Every night? How annoying.” Sukuna can’t really imagine you not staying here every night, though. “Sleep before I occupy your bratty mouth.”

“Again!?” You feel his cocks start to press against you, he chuckles, shaking his entire body.

“I could go all day and all night. Ah, shutting up now I see?”

You are already drifting off to sleep in your new husband’s arms, you thought it would be so terrible, losing your innocence, laying under him, bearing him a future heir, but it was as far from that as anything could be. It was amazing, your sore, aching body melting against his warmth.

You could quite get used to this.

*****

The Next Week

“Sukuna, what are you doing!?” Your voice is a hasty breath. You are sitting right on Sukuna’s lap in the throne room, as he plays with your drippy wet cunt, rolling his long, rough fingers on your engorged little clit.

“Touching my wife, why?” He whispers in your ear, while the guards align the walls, your eyes roll back, body overheating while you try to keep in your cries. “Oh you love it too, you’re so slutty.”

You frequently sit with him here, and he teases absolutely, but he is sinking two fingers in your pussy, past those gummy little walls, you can hear your squishing under your purple robes, panicking and worrying everyone else can. But it feels so fucking good, you find your hips shifting, thighs opening for more, his fingers up to his knuckles in your wetness.

He moans softly, while more people pour in, they are speaking to him of this problem or that, you’re holding in your cries, no one can see what he’s really doing with how he has you turned towards him, but you can swear they know. It was odd at first, you at every single meeting, to the other nobles, but who are they to question Sukuna? And many times you could calm him.

Somewhat.

Even fingers deep in your pussy he manages to fling someone across the room, knocking over several people like fucking bowling pins, but you sure weren’t able to complain when his tongue on his hand is lapping at you, drinking up the juices that flow all over. You’re about to cum when he pulls back, letting you get a breath, he rests his head on his fist, full of boredom.

He sucks on his fingers, smirking at you, while he handles more, you end up yawning and snuggling against him at a certain point, one of his arms wraps around you, it’s so comfortable here like this. He has to leave again tomorrow and you’re absolutely dreading it, so you’re exceptionally clingy.

“Uraume, get her ready for dinner.” He says later on, when the room has cleared. “Get off me now, brat.”

“Not leaving.” He sighs, picking you up and putting you down now.

“Go on, now. An order.” You sigh, feeling emotions stick in your throat.

“Take me with you tomorrow?”

“Absolutely not, it’s dangerous.”

“Then-”

“Go. Get. Ready. For dinner. Don’t give me that look, bunny.” You follow Uraume, they take you to get cleaned up and dressed, Sukuna loves dressing you up for dinner it seems, he has an endless amount of yukatas and jewelry.

“Will you stay for this journey?” You ask Uraume.

“No, my Queen, I'll be joining him.” You frown then, Uraume at least keeps you company when Sukuna was not here, without them you will feel far too lonely in this huge castle.

“You can’t both leave me!” Uraume finishes clasping your necklace now, sighing.

“It will not be too long.”

“But Uraume, do I not have powers?”

“Well they are not trained, and the King cannot risk you. I’m afraid until you get some training-”

“That’s it, you’ll train me!” Uraume blinks at you.

“What now?”

“Yes, you will. I want to be useful, not just flounce around in gowns.”

“The king wants you home flouncing around in gowns though, you need to eat healthy and have heirs, not go off to battles.” Their voice is so calm always, you try to pout but it just doesn’t work on them like it seems to with Sukuna, so you decide to appeal to their logic.

“Uraume, but what if something should happen here? Should I not be equipped for such-”

“See how annoying she is?” Your husband’s voice interrupts now, as he stands in front of your doorway, taking the entirety of it up.

“Kuna…”

“Kuna?” Uraume snorts now, covering their face, earning Sukuna’s glare. “Sorry, my King.”

“Cease that nickname now. What am I hearing echoing through the halls, with your loud ass voice?” You sigh, looking down, fiddling with your hands in front of your lap now. “Do not even give the look of innocence, you’ll not go with us, that was an order.”

“But what about training? You’ll make me pathetic and helpless if someone comes here and attacks the castle!”

“We have guards for that-”

“Please?” You pout, and it ruins him, as it always does. You’re making him irritatingly soft, Uraume can’t help but watch in amusement. 

“I’ll arrange for some training when I return. If you will cease pestering Uraume and get your pretty ass for dinner.” He concedes, you grin so big then, brightening your annoyingly cute face, though he won’t tell you he enjoys it.

“Yay!” You giggle, the irritating sound making him and Uraume cringe just slightly, but Uraume smiles at you and Sukuna when you’re hugging the enormous sorcerer, and he places a hand on your head, brushing your hair back.

“You in these gowns…” His voice is a husky whisper, igniting desire back within you, but when wasn’t it burning?

“Mmm, you enjoy them?” You whisper, trailing your fingers up his bare chest, tracing the black tattoos that decorate his body.

“What a stupid question.”

“I’ll have dinner sent up.” Uraume shuts the door, as the sounds of your moaning and the King’s are soon echoing through the halls.

“We should eat…” You murmur, barely noticing the click of the doors when Sukuna presses you against them, rough kisses down your throat, already peppered with bruises and marks from him. Your hands entangle in his locks, as the words in your heart start to overflow. “Sukuna, I should tell you something before you go.”

“Stop being so sappy, I’ll be fine.” He cuts you off with his hands gripping your breasts over your robe, his other hands kneading at your backside, pulling you against him.

“B-but I need to say something… you’re distracting me!” You moan out then, when he’s biting your collarbone, shoving you harder against the cold door, cupping between your thighs now, making you blinded.

You want to tell him you’re falling for him.

Would he laugh at you?

Would he believe you?

You have no clue, but now your mind is muddled, and every time you go to open your mouth, he’s taking it over again. Your heart is racing in your chest. “Kuna, let me say something first.”

“Hush, would you, woman?” Sukuna kisses you again and again, before sinking to his knees, you whine out, feeling your heat pool in your stomach. He lifts one of your legs over his broad shoulder, breath hot against you. “I’ll eat dinner alright.”

“Ah!” Sukuna’s spreading your lips and swipes his tongue up you, being edged all damn day you’re so sensitive you nearly come then and there. “You never let me finish a sentence. I need to- oh my gods.”

Sukuna’s sharp teeth bite your clit, the sensation making you gasp out, gushing honeyed arousal which he drinks with his tongue and lips. You can hear it, the sounds of him slurping you up, you’re dizzy, lips opening and closing, two red eyes glowing as they watch you, one hand steadying you, another arm wrapping your hips, pressing you against his face.

“L-love… love you…” You finally manage to speak, only for him to pause, pulling back, your slick glistening all over his face. He glares, tongue lapping out to taste you off his lips.

“What nonsense is this!?” He demands.

“Nonsense, it is not, it’s-”

“Nonsense.” You glare now as he stands, towering over you, gripping your face with two huge hands. “Fucking idiocy.”

“Really, Sukuna? That’s really how you’re going to respond?” You feel tears stinging the back of your eyes, breaths coming quicker and quicker, as his words tear you apart.

“You don’t even… that’s not… you don’t.”

“Do not tell me what I feel! Infuriating ass of a man.” Sukuna steps back then, shoving you to the side. “Really, and you’re leaving?”

“I have much to prepare for, and you’re annoying the ever loving fuck out of me. Good night.”

“Good night!?” He slams the door, and you feel yourself whirling with emotions, fucking fury at him, confusion, your body’s reaction to his play, you’re shaky and dizzy suddenly.

You sit down on the floor by the door, hugging your knees and crying into your folded arms, wishing he would come back. But the next morning he is gone, and he did not say a damn word to you, aside from a note he has written informing you of things to take care of while he is gone.

There is a little box, and inside of it is another pretty necklace that you want to fling across the room.

I hope you come to your senses while I’m gone.

Your King.

Your King!? Not your loving husband- well this was Sukuna, but still, you scoff at his audacity, setting the note down and feeling the loneliness start to sink in, and he’s just barely gone. He couldn’t even come say goodbye to you? And this is what he sends you as a farewell?

Why have you fallen in love with such an ass?

Taglist: @mistygrovesarchive @mima0127 @janrcrosssing @thejujvtsupost @clp-84 @silvarys @after-laughter-come-tears @vantedaes @liivzen @just-lilita @jdevilmadness @lixern @spaceeyhem @thisisew @bozos-r-us @zwr1tx @slootbear @pamemoonlight @xxyaoi-nationxx @jschlattsgff @alessdramawouldbenice @sukunasfavgroupie @1emma1 @nanamjai @1-800-blues-clues   @watashiwasohidesu @vynwan-cbq  @mouseyboo @imbacklovie @cyberket @chuuminn @diannana @hanham10 @arilxup88 @suna-is-my-one-and-only @yv-ania @urgirlraven @sillymortalblob @nana-thee-galaxy-g1rl @jiahu @badnbouj @forbiddenpaste

Rest in the comments! One more fluffy/smutty part hehe <3

[sleepyhoon]

BAJA BLAST - S.JY

pairing. religious stepbro!jake x fem reader genre. drabble, porn w plot warnings. virgin perv jake, stepcest, religious themes, brief mention of alcoholism & death word count. 3.5k smut tags. degradation, dry humping (i guess…), handjob, jake sucks reader’s tits thru her shirt, p in v for like 30 seconds.

a/n. hmm trying to get into darker themes to expand my genres a bit more … not too sure how i feel abt it yet but it was interesting to explore a new trope! i understand darker tropes aren’t for everyone sooo feel free to skip over if this isn’t for you!! <3

———

“You’re disgusting, and you’re not gonna find a God-fearing husband if you keep parading yourself like a slut.”

Jake pries your legs open a little wider, further situating himself between your thighs as he smears his precum on the core of your panties. He glances up at you when you scoff, knees digging into the mattress as he drags the tip of his cock along your clothed cunt. “What?” he sneers, raising a brow at you.

“You have a girlfriend and you’re getting yourself off between someone else’s legs; you’re the slut,” Jake’s cock twitches in the palm of his hand at your insult, you take a mental note of this, “and, I don’t even want a God-fearing husband, whatever that is.”

“It means a religious husband, genius. None of them probably want you anyway, so the feeling is mutual.”

Degrading as it may be, this is the shit that gets Jake off; certainly not his prude, preacher’s daughter girlfriend who only allows him to kiss her for a few seconds at a time, because anything longer than that could be “too tempting”.

He didn’t hate Chaeyoung in the slightest, but he likely wouldn’t have made all that effort to court her had he known she was saving herself for marriage in every aspect. No lingering touches, no suggestive comments, and certainly no racy photos; the poor boy would’ve been fine with her sitting on his lap every now and then if it meant he’d get to jerk off from the weight of someone on top of him.

Much like Chaeyoung, Jake was on the treacherous path of saving himself for marriage, but even he allowed himself a bit of wiggle room. Saving himself entirely for marriage was beyond unrealistic, but he was willing to at least avoid shoving his dick in someone before there was a ring on his finger if it meant he could get off in other ways.

Jake didn’t have the heart to break up with Chaeyoung just because she wanted to stay pure until marriage, but he wasn’t planning on waiting that long to finally get his dick wet. Besides, breaking up with the preacher’s daughter for seemingly no reason was a bad look, especially considering that Jake was the youth pastor at the same exact church.

Aside from the pastor and his wife, Jake and Chaeyoung were the only couple treated as royalty in their church community. They were seen as devoted followers of Christ whilst showcasing what an appropriate, God-fearing, young, Christian couple should look like. From the outside looking in (or even just looking from his girlfriend’s perspective), they truly did resemble a perfect couple.

How Jake got into jerking off between his step-sister’s thighs was a long story.

His original plan was to keep his distance when he first met you a little over a year ago, a few months before his father was preparing to marry your mother. Jake didn’t take kindly to you at first, bewildered on how such a respectful, faith-driven woman such as your mother could produce a daughter the exact opposite of her. Your outfits were entirely too skimpy, you had a horrible attitude, and you had tattoos. In Jake’s eyes, you were the definition of sin.

And that’s exactly why he felt disgusted with himself when he realized he was desperately attracted to you.

It was horrible, the countless nights he’d spent jerking himself off to the thought of you sinking down on his cock and riding him until he passed out. He’s certain his stamina is low and would probably finish in under five minutes, but it doesn’t hurt to dream; and that he does.

Until you showed up to his apartment one Monday morning with a large Baja Blast from Taco Bell and a proposition.

“Taco Bell at ten in the morning, seriously?”

You hadn’t greeted him with a “Good morning!” or “Hey, how are you?” and instead jumped the gun and went straight into, “Hey, you know how my dad died?”

Jake held his front door open, running a hand through his messy, morning hair in confusion as he responded, “Wasn’t it from, like, alcoholism?”

You rolled your eyes at him, “Yeah, but I meant like… you know that he’s dead, right? Also, Taco Bell serves breakfast, genius.”

“YN, it’s too early for this.” Jake says with a frustrated sigh, prepared to close the door in your face because it’s way too early to deal with your bullshit.

“I’m getting his inheritance from my grandmother, a huge one.”

Jake tried his best at attempting to hide the look of shock on his face. From his knowledge, your grandparents were loaded; practically rolling in money since the moment they were born. Having your father’s inheritance transferred to you was a blessing, Jake didn’t even want to imagine the useless crap you’d waste that money on.

“Congrats, did you come here to rub it in my face?”

You sighed, slightly embarrassed and a little defeated knowing you’d need Jake’s help. You felt entirely guilty for even coming to him in the first place, the two of you weren’t close and hardly spoke outside of gatherings, the only reason you showed up to his apartment was because you didn’t have his phone number; only his address you had to scroll in your GPS to find from the one time you drove him home.

“No, I’m not here to brag. I need your help.”

Jake hesitantly opened his door wider, allowing you into his home that you nervously pace around in. “Help with what?” he asked, locking the door behind him.

“I don’t get the inheritance until after my grandma dies.”

“YN, are you crazy?! I am not helping you kill your grandmother!”

“What?! Jake, no! God, just let me finish.” An awkward beat of silence passed before you continued, “She says I’m not getting the inheritance unless I get into religion and be involved in church.”

“Yeah, can’t help with that.” Jake took a moment to look you up and down, eyes focusing on the fresh tattoo right under your knee, “You’re gonna need a miracle.”

You followed behind Jake like a helpless puppy as he entered his kitchen, nervously toying with your fingers as you set your drink down on the kitchen counter, “I know we aren’t really close, and that’s partially my fault, but I’d really appreciate it if you could help me out with this.”

“With what, YN? You haven’t said what you’d need me to do.”

“Just, every so often, tell my family that I’m involved in church and help out. Shit like that.”

Jake chuckled, powering on his Nespresso, “As if that’s gonna work. You know your family goes to church, right? What are they gonna think if they don’t see you there but I’m telling them you showed up? They’d see right through it.”

“They don’t go every Sunday! I’ll just check ahead of time and go with them whenever they do go, and on the days they don’t go you’d be able to cover for me.”

Jake sighed with a shake of his head, reaching into his cabinet to retrieve a coffee mug, “It’s not just Sunday service, YN. They also go to bible study and help plan church events. Your family is very involved in the community.”

“Again, they don’t attend every event, right? I’ll go when they go and you cover when I can’t! And, besides, it’s not like they’re expecting me to go to every single event; as long as they think I’m putting in effort I’ll be fine.”

You seemed proud of yourself and your plan, which only annoyed your step-brother even further, because you clearly hadn’t thought this through.

“What’s in it for me?”

You paused, quirking a brow at Jake, “What do you mean?”

“We barely even know each other and you expect me to do this big favor for you for free? Be realistic.”

“Well, what do you want?”

“I want…half of the inheritance.”

“Jake, even you know that’s too much.”

Yeah, maybe he was being a little petty, but it was your own fault for asking for a favor like this and not offering him anything in return. He may not know the exact amount of your inheritance, but based on your reaction, it had to be a life changing amount of money; enough to give him a portion of.

“I’d rather not say what the exact amount is,” you start, looking down at your sneakers, “but it’s a lot, and I’m definitely willing to give you a fraction of it if you help me out. Just not half.”

“How much?”

“For you? Fifty-thousand.”

Jake dropped the ceramic mug to the ground, eyes widening as the cup broke and scattered across the kitchen floor. You flinched, jumping back on instinct while he remained frozen in place. “Fifty-thousand dollars?”

You wanted to tell him it’s truly nothing compared to the amount you’d have leftover, and that you’d offer him more if he insisted on it, but fifty-thousand seems to be enough for him. Instead, you nodded, carefully backing into the living room to avoid accidentally stepping on the ceramic shards.

“Does that work?”

It was too late to pretend your offer wasn’t more than he’d been expecting, but still, Jake had no reason to believe you’d hold up to your end of the deal; even if giving him fifty-thousand dollars would hardly make a dent in what you’d be receiving.

Jake shook his head, “I don’t know you, how can I trust you’ll actually give it to me?”

“You can’t just take my word?”

“The only word I take is the word of God.”

You should’ve seen that one coming.

Jake continued, “I want a down payment that I can receive now; something so that if you don’t pay me, I still got something out of our agreement.”

Intrigued, and a little frightened, you tilted your head at him, “Money?”

Jake shrugged in response, carefully stepping over the shards of ceramic, “Doesn’t have to be, your mom says you don’t have much of it.”

“I have money!”

Jake rolled his eyes, retrieving a broom and dustpan from the hallway closet, “Right, because your part-time barista job pays so much.”

You let out an exasperated sigh, “I really don’t know what else to offer you.”

“Better think of something or you’re on your own.”

The sound of ceramic clicking together as Jake cleans filled the silence, leaving you to brainstorm on what he would accept as a down payment offer. Money wasn’t an option, and you didn’t know enough about Jake’s interests to offer him some sort of bribe.

However, Jake is a man. Yes, a religious one, but still a man. If you’re lucky enough, there’s one thing you could offer that no man, not even Jake, would pass up.

“Chaeyoung is saving herself for marriage, right?”

Jake paused, suspiciously glancing at you over his shoulder, “I don’t see how that’s any of your business, but yes.”

You nodded, “Are you?”

“Again, not your business, but yes.”

“What about loopholes?”

Jake fully turned around this time, narrowing his eyes at you, “YN, where are you going with this?”

You shrugged, defensively raising your hands, “What if I was your loophole? Like, I help you get off however you want without actually having sex, so it won’t count as sinning. And, trust me, I won’t tell anyone.”

Jesus Christ, you seriously wanted the inheritance that bad?

Jake immediately wanted to accept the offer and drag you straight into his room, but he couldn’t; he had to be nonchalant about this or risk you revoking your suggestion.

He faked a look of disgust, a confused, twisted snarl on his face as he responded, “But, you’re my step-sister; isn’t that wrong?”

You shrugged, “I don’t care if you don’t. Plus, we’re adults and we barely even know each other, it’s not like our parents married years ago and we grew up as siblings.”

Fair point, not that Jake needed any further convincing.

“I’m not offering you this again, by the way. You either accept it now or you’ll never get the chance again,” you warn Jake, taking a seat down on the edge of his couch.

After a few long moments of pretending to weigh his options, Jake extended the end of the broomstick in your direction, slowly using the handle of it to lift your skirt. You didn’t react, your eyes following the edge of the broomstick as Jake continued his actions. He lowered his head slightly, confused as to why he couldn’t see your panties, until he realized.

You weren’t wearing any.

He cleared his throat, quickly pulling the broom away before leaning it up against the wall. “Sure, whatever, I guess. As long as you don’t tell anyone.”

Easiest deal of his life.

Jake made sure you kept to your end of the deal, and maybe took some advantage of it.

The first incident occurred a few weeks after the agreement, when Jake had to cover for you upon missing Sunday service due to you being hungover.

“She was up all night designing flyers for the coat drive next week,” Jake addressed your mother’s concerns, resting a comforting hand on her shoulder, “she really wanted to come to today’s service, but I told her she should get some rest.”

Your mother clutched her heart, staring up at Jake in complete awe, “YN? My YN?”

Jake nodded, a sheepish grin on his face as he responded, “The one and only.”

Your mother was skeptical, tilting her head at her stepson with her brows furrowed, “Just doesn’t sound like something she would do, unless there was something in it for her, of course. You’re not covering for her, are you?”

Jake faked a laugh, “The only thing YN is covered in is the blood of Jesus Christ.”

…And apparently Jake’s cum only a few hours later.

“…Now, guess who’s stuck designing flyers for the coat drive? Me!”

“I told you I would do it, you little brat,” your fist tightens around Jake’s clothed cock and he groans, squeezing his eyes shut at the new, uncomfortable, yet pleasant sensation.

You were slightly off-put and a little humored when Jake showed up to your apartment requesting, “A handjob but I, like, keep my boxers on. Like, just do it through my clothes.”

“Wouldn’t you rather…have your boxers off?”

“Are you nuts? I’m not letting you touch me,” he’d said, unbuttoning his dress pants as he lowered himself on your mattress.

You obliged his request, awkwardly rubbing him through his boxers, watching as his facial expressions changed so quickly and constantly. His brows would furrow then relax, lips would twitch before sinking his teeth in them, all while he tried his best not to finish embarrassingly quick.

Which didn’t work.

Jake was already on the edge of cumming when you lowered your head down to his groin, placing a small peck against the head of his clothed cock, the material sticky and wet from his precum.

His body jolts at the touch, arching off the mattress with swears spewing from his lips as his orgasm washed over him. He shoves his boxers down in record time, grinning to himself when you groan in agony when his cum lands on your cheek.

Had you been literally anyone else, maybe Jake would’ve felt bad that he came so quickly and didn’t have the energy nor interest to give you anything in return; but he didn’t. This was an agreement, and as long as the two of you held to both your ends of the deal, there was nothing to feel bad about. He didn’t owe you anything else.

Surprisingly enough, the arrangements weren’t happening as frequently as Jake hoped they would.

You immersed yourself into the church community, showing up to Sunday Worship and Bible Study as if it were a second nature. Jake should be proud, really, that you’re serious about being devoted; even if it was under the premise of obtaining your father’s inheritance, but he’s pissed.

He waited weeks for you to slip up, intentionally scheduling a Bible Study session or some church fundraiser at a time where he knows you’ll be busy and have no choice to skip, but you show up.

To every fucking event. Until you don’t.

Your younger cousin was getting baptized and you missed it, and if it weren’t for Jake making up some lame excuse and covering for your ass, your mother would’ve gone ballistic on you.

Jake’s happy to cover for you, though, knowing he’d be getting something in return not too long afterwards.

After weeks of feigning, that simple slip up was how Jake found him back between your thighs, pumping his cock along the outline of your cunt through your thin panties.

“Whatever,” you sneer, propping yourself up on your elbows, “marriage is the last thing on my mind right now.”

Jake rolls his eyes, pausing and grateful at the fact that he has a better of your tits. For some godforsaken reason, the air conditioner in your home is always on full blast, and despite assuring your guests that you don’t feel that cold, your body certainly says otherwise; if the way your hardened nippled poke through your shirt is anything to go by.

He licks his lips, pumping his dick a little faster as he leans down and traces his tongue along your clothed nipple. You’re saying something, maybe asking him what he’s doing or to keep going, but he can’t hear you; having you like this is new territory for him, nothing else in the world mattered at this moment.

His saliva stains your t-shirt as he continues, moaning against your chest as he flicks his tongue against your bud. Jake lightly traps your nipple between his teeth, tugging on it just enough to sting before releasing it once again, lapping his tongue against it as if to apologize.

Your hand moves to his hair, giving it a tight grip as Jake moans before shoving your arm away entirely. “Are you insane?! Don’t touch me!”

“But-”

“Wait.”

Fuck, that felt good. It wasn’t much but it felt so fucking good.

He needed more of you, fuck all this waiting for marriage bullshit. He tried his best for as long as he could, and he doesn’t want to fucking wait anymore.

“I wanna try something,” he mumbles, wasting no time in pushing your panties to the side. The sight of your glistening cunt is enough to make his mouth water, and Jake swears he can hear a choir of angels singing as he stares down at it in awe.

“Jake, I thought-”

“Fuck that,” Jake is quick to cut you off, already knowing what your next words were, “I don’t wanna wait anymore; show me how.”

“How to what?”

“The one thing you know how to do.”

“Oh, fuck you. You’re such an asshole.” You say, but it doesn’t stop you from maneuvering your right hand between your bodies and gripping the base of Jake’s cock, encouraging him to scoot forward as you guide him directly to your hole.

You don’t move him any further, making the choice of letting Jake decide whether he’s serious about this.

He is.

He presses the head of his cock further into you, squeezing his eyes shut as you wrap around him so snug and perfect. He stills his movements, head dropping to your shoulder with a groan.

It’s already too much and he’s not even halfway in. It feels too good, so wet and warm and tight, better than he could’ve ever imagined.

“Fuck…”, he mumbles into your shoulder, taking note of how none of this barely had an effect on you.

“It’s okay,” you assure him in an oddly sweet tone, “try moving.”

“I can’t, think I’m gonna come if I do.”

“You’ll be fine, just-”

Jake lets out a loud, frustrated groan as he raises his head away from your shoulder, “You wouldn’t fucking get it.”

Jake spent too many countless nights imagining this very scenario, and now that it’s finally happening he can barely even handle it. Everything feels too good and it’s all too much for him to bear.

He pulls his dick out of you entirely, giving himself a few hard pumps as his impending orgasm approaches. It looks almost painful, the way he’s gripping and pumping his cock, how red his tip is, you’re surprised a few tears don’t slip from his eyes when he finally does finish, painting your thighs with his cum as his body trembles.

He rests a shaky hand on your knee, grip on his cock softening as he makes a mess across your panties, thick, white ropes of cum staining your underwear.

“Fuck,” Jake mumbles to himself as he steadies his breathing. He’s never came this hard before, to the point where he feels exhausted and genuinely empty.

“Are you…okay?” You ask, cringing at the sticky feeling between your thighs.

Jake nods slowly, sitting himself up as he tucks his now-softened cock back into his boxers, “Let’s, uh, get cleaned up so we can go.”

His head his spinning as he rises from your bed, a dizzy feeling coming over him as he stands. Fuck, maybe this is why he should’ve waited for marriage.

“Go where?”

“Bible study is starting soon,” he explains, “if we leave now we can stop by Taco Bell beforehand, I need a Baja Blast.”

[willaminareads]

too busy

PARING: exhusband!drew x reader

SUMMARY: you and drew had been divorced for a little under a year now. while drew had your two kids this weekend, zach unfortunately let it slip, that mommy had a new "friend". drew was anything but thrilled.

WORD COUNT: 667 words

WARNINGS: possesive drew, angst, fluff, cursing, kids.

WILLA SPEAKS: hey! this is my first fic, on this blog, and i'm so excited!! please note that english is not my first language, so if any mistakes occur, i'm so sorry! enjoy<3

you stand outside his door, waiting for him to open it. you were a little nervous. you didn't exactly have a reason to be, but you were.

"y/n," drew says as he opens the door. "hi, baby, come in. the kids are in their playroom." he ushers you inside, hoping you didn't notice he let the nickname slip. old habits die hard.

you smile softly at the nickname but quickly stop once you notice. this is your ex. hell, not even just your ex—your ex-husband.

you follow him inside his new house. you liked it, though it did remind you of the house the two of you once shared.

"can i get you anything?" drew breaks the silence.

"you have tea?" you ask softly.

"the kettle is already on, sweetheart," he responds in the same soft tone. god, he knows me so well, you thought.

he finds a cup for you and starts preparing the tea. silence falls between you. it wasn't awkward per se, but not exactly pleasant either.

drew is the first to break the silence, still keeping all his attention on your tea. "zach says you've got a new friend." his tone is sharp, not at all soft like the one you'd heard just a couple of minutes ago.

a quiet "oh," was all you could muster up. you didn't know what to say. i mean, what could you say?

he turns his attention to you, handing you the cup of tea. "yeah, that was my reaction as well," he says bitterly.

you sigh. "come on, drew, don't do this." guilt written all over your face.

he lets out a dry laugh. "i didn't do shit, y/n."

"i'm allowed to move on, drew," you say softly, catching his gaze.

"the fuck you are," he sneers, placing his hands on the countertop. "i can't, so you don't get to either." his statement hangs in the air as you stare at each other.

you scoff. "no, you don't get to do this, drew. you fucked up. you didn't have time for us," you say, knowing how to hit him where it hurts.

"don't say that." he looks down, unable to meet your eyes.

"why not, drew? it's true," you state. "you were too busy with your big dreams, and, i mean, it worked out for you," you say, waving your arms slightly. "you have everything a man could want," you taunt.

"you know that's not true," he glares at you.

you shrug. "you can't have your cake and eat it too."

he scoffs at your comment. "right, okay. you're getting on my nerves, y/n," he bites. "you know how much i wanted to make this work. you know how much i love you—"

you cut him off. "loved."

"no, fuck that, and fuck you for saying it," he raises his voice at you. he doesn't do that often. "i'm sorry..." he takes a deep breath. "you know that i still love you. i just want another chance, y/n. let me show you that we can make this work," he says softly, reaching for your hand.

you shake your head at him. "we can't put the kids through another divorce, drew," you say softly.

"we won't," he says. "come on, y/n. we can make this work."

you sigh. "drew..."

"please," he says, bringing a hand up to caress your cheek.

"there's no new guy." drew stares at you, a little confused, waiting for you to continue. "that friend zach says he saw me with?" drew nods along. "it was chase."

"chase? as in my co-star chase?" drew asks, utterly confused.

"yeah... he and maddie came by to help me build a dresser." you bite your lip, your nerves taking over your body.

"oh," he falls silent.

"drew?" you ask.

"so, no new guy?" he asks with a glint of playfulness in his eyes.

"no new guy." you confirm.

"so... do you wanna marry me again..?" he asks.

"drew!" you exclaim with laughter as you smack his arm.

[rainbow-wyvern]

I'm just sitting here in my wedding dress just altered by my friend, reading this. In six days, I will be married on Christmas Day to my partner of 7 years. We are eloping in concern of Project 2025 and the possibility of all this being illegal again soon.

I'm ecstatic that we get to do this and perhaps be a part of history. I am furious that we have had to scramble for this. That bigots and the fear of a tyrant soon taking office have made us do this in a way that we hadn't planned. We wanted (and will still do) a proper ceremony. But not for a couple of years when we can plan it all out and save up money for a semi nice reception.

We were just engaged this past August, at least that was on our own terms.

In about three days, my parents who were raised bigots and had a hard time with me coming out and said several hurtful things about queer folk while I grew up a tightly closeted queer, not even knowing myself at the time (yay supression of feelings!). They also said several painful things during and after my coming out.

Now here they are, only five years after I've done so, excited to see me married to the very person they were so concerned about me loving.

It's hard to forgive them, but time can change even the most resistant of hearts I think. Time and love.

I hope this ends up not being needed. That we were overly cautious and nothing changes in marriage equality rights. I'm hopeful, but we weren't willing to risk it. And honestly, despite all the stress and suddenness of this, I am so truly happy to have family old, new, and borrowed (chosen) to be there for such a special time.

Twenty years ago, February 15th, 2004, I got married for the first time.

It was twenty years earlier than I ever expected to.

To celebrate/comemorate the date, I'm sitting down to write out everything I remember as I remember it. No checking all the pictures I took or all the times I've written about this before. I'm not going to turn to my husband (of twenty years, how the f'ing hell) to remember a detail for me.

This is not a 100% accurate recounting of that first wild weekend in San Francisco. But it -is- a 100% accurate recounting of how I remember it today, twenty years after the fact.

Join me below, if you would.

2004 was an election year, and much like conservatives are whipping up anti-trans hysteria and anti-trans bills and propositions to drive out the vote today, in 2004 it was all anti-gay stuff. Specifically, preventing the evil scourge of same-sex marriage from destroying everything good and decent in the world.

Enter Gavin Newstrom. At the time, he was the newly elected mayor of San Francisco. Despite living next door to the city all my life, I hadn’t even heard of the man until Valentines Day 2004 when he announced that gay marriage was legal in San Francisco and started marrying people at city hall.

It was a political stunt. It was very obviously a political stunt. That shit was illegal, after all. But it was a very sweet political stunt. I still remember the front page photo of two ancient women hugging each other forehead to forehead and crying happy tears.

But it was only going to last for as long as it took for the California legal system to come in and make them knock it off.

The next day, we’re on the phone with an acquaintance, and she casually mentions that she’s surprised the two of us aren’t up at San Francisco getting married with everyone else.

“Everyone else?” Goes I, “I thought they would’ve shut that down already?”

“Oh no!” goes she, “The courts aren’t open until Tuesday. Presidents Day on Monday and all. They’re doing them all weekend long!”

We didn’t know because social media wasn’t a thing yet. I only knew as much about it as I’d read on CNN, and most of the blogs I was following were more focused on what bullshit President George W Bush was up to that day.

"Well shit", me and my man go, "do you wanna?" I mean, it’s a political stunt, it wont really mean anything, but we’re not going to get another chance like this for at least 20 years. Why not?

The next day, Sunday, we get up early. We drive north to the southern-most BART station. We load onto Bay Area Rapid Transit, and rattle back and forth all the way to the San Francisco City Hall stop.

We had slightly miscalculated.

Apparently, demand for marriages was far outstripping the staff they had on hand to process them. Who knew. Everyone who’d gotten turned away Saturday had been given tickets with times to show up Sunday to get their marriages done. My babe and I, we could either wait to see if there was a space that opened up, or come back the next day, Monday.

“Isn’t City Hall closed on Monday?” I asked. “It’s a holiday”

“Oh sure,” they reply, “but people are allowed to volunteer their time to come in and work on stuff anyways. And we have a lot of people who want to volunteer their time to have the marriage licensing offices open tomorrow.”

“Oh cool,” we go, “Backup.”

“Make sure you’re here if you do,” they say, “because the California Supreme Court is back in session Tuesday, and will be reviewing the motion that got filed to shut us down.”

And all this shit is super not-legal, so they’ll totally be shutting us down goes unsaid.

00000

We don’t get in Saturday. We wind up hanging out most of the day, though.

It’s… incredible. I can say, without hyperbole, that I have never experienced so much concentrated joy and happiness and celebration of others’ joy and happiness in all my life before or since. My face literally ached from grinning. Every other minute, a new couple was coming out of City Hall, waving their paperwork to the crowd and cheering and leaping and skipping. Two glorious Latina women in full Mariachi band outfits came out, one in the arms of another. A pair of Jewish boys with their families and Rabbi. One couple managed to get a Just Married convertible arranged complete with tin-cans tied to the bumper to drive off in. More than once I was giving some rice to throw at whoever was coming out next.

At some point in the mid-afternoon, there was a sudden wave of extra cheering from the several hundred of us gathered at the steps, even though no one was coming out. There was a group going up the steps to head inside, with some generic black-haired shiny guy at the front. My not-yet-husband nudged me, “That’s Newsom.” He said, because he knew I was hopeless about matching names and people.

Ooooooh, I go. That explains it. Then I joined in the cheers. He waved and ducked inside.

So dusk is starting to fall. It’s February, so it’s only six or so, but it’s getting dark.

“Should we just try getting in line for tomorrow -now-?” we ask.

“Yeah, I’m afraid that’s not going to be possible.” One of the volunteers tells us. “We’re not allowed to have people hang out overnight like this unless there are facilities for them and security. We’d need Porta-Poties for a thousand people and police patrols and the whole lot, and no one had time to get all that organized. Your best bet is to get home, sleep, and then catch the first BART train up at 5am and keep your fingers crossed.

Monday is the last day to do this, after all.

00000

So we go home. We crash out early. We wake up at 4:00. We drive an hour to hit the BART station. We get the first train up. We arrive at City Hall at 6:30AM.

The line stretches around the entirety of San Francisco City Hall. You could toss a can of Coke from the end of the line to the people who’re up to be first through the doors and not have to worry about cracking it open after.

“Uh.” We go. “What the fuck is -this-?”

So.

Remember why they weren’t going to be able to have people hang out overnight?

Turns out, enough SF cops were willing to volunteer unpaid time to do patrols to cover security. And some anonymous person delivered over a dozen Porta-Poties that’d gotten dropped off around 8 the night before.

It’s 6:30 am, there are almost a thousand people in front of us in line to get this literal once in a lifetime marriage, the last chance we expect to have for at least 15 more years (it was 2004, gay rights were getting shoved back on every front. It was not looking good. We were just happy we lived in California were we at least weren’t likely to loose job protections any time soon.).

Then it starts to rain.

We had not dressed for rain.

00000

Here is how the next six hours go.

We’re in line. Once the doors open at 7am, it will creep forward at a slow crawl. It’s around 7 when someone shows up with garbage bags for everyone. Cut holes for the head and arms and you’ve got a makeshift raincoat! So you’ve got hundreds of gays and lesbians decked out in the nicest shit they could get on short notice wearing trashbags over it.

Everyone is so happy.

Everyone is so nervous/scared/frantic that we wont be able to get through the doors before they close for the day.

People online start making delivery orders.

Coffee and bagels are ordered in bulk and delivered to City Hall for whoever needs it. We get pizza. We get roses. Random people come by who just want to give hugs to people in line because they’re just so happy for us. The tour busses make detours to go past the lines. Chinese tourists lean out with their cameras and shout GOOD LUCK while car horns honk.

A single sad man holding a Bible tries to talk people out of doing this, tells us all we’re sinning and to please don’t. He gives up after an hour. A nun replaces him with a small sign about how this is against God’s will. She leaves after it disintegrates in the rain.

The day before, when it was sunny, there had been a lot of protestors. Including a large Muslim group with their signs about how “Not even DOGS do such things!” Which… Yes they do.

A lot of snide words are said (by me) about how the fact that we’re willing to come out in the rain to do this while they’re not willing to come out in the rain to protest it proves who actually gives an actual shit about the topic.

Time passes. I measure it based on which side of City Hall we’re on. The doors face East. We start on Northside. Coffee and trashbags are delivered when we’re on the North Side. Pizza first starts showing up when we’re on Westside, which is also where I see Bible Man and Nun. Roses are delivered on Southside. And so forth.

00000

We have Line Neighbors.

Ahead of us are a gay couple a decade or two older than us. They’ve been together for eight years. The older one is a school teacher. He has his coat collar up and turns away from any news cameras that come near while we reposition ourselves between the lenses and him. He’s worried about the parents of one of his students seeing him on the news and getting him fired. The younger one will step away to get interviewed on his own later on. They drove down for the weekend once they heard what was going on. They’d started around the same time we did, coming from the Northeast, and are parked in a nearby garage.

The most perky energetic joyful woman I’ve ever met shows up right after we turned the corner to Southside to tackle the younger of the two into a hug. She’s their local friend who’d just gotten their message about what they’re doing and she will NOT be missing this. She is -so- happy for them. Her friends cry on her shoulders at her unconditional joy.

Behind us are a lesbian couple who’d been up in San Francisco to celebrate their 12th anniversary together. “We met here Valentines Day weekend! We live down in San Diego, now, but we like to come up for the weekend because it’s our first love city.”

“Then they announced -this-,” the other one says, “and we can’t leave until we get married. I called work Sunday and told them I calling in sick until Wednesday.”

“I told them why,” her partner says, “I don’t care if they want to give me trouble for it. This is worth it. Fuck them.”

My husband-to-be and I look at each other. We’ve been together for not even two years at this point. Less than two years. Is it right for us to be here? We’re potentially taking a spot from another couple that’d been together longer, who needed it more, who deserved it more.”

“Don’t you fucking dare.” Says the 40-something gay couple in front of us.

“This is as much for you as it is for us!” says the lesbian couple who’ve been together for over a decade behind us.

“You kids are too cute together,” says the gay couple’s friend. “you -have- to. Someday -you’re- going to be the old gay couple that’s been together for years and years, and you deserve to have been married by then.”

We stay in line.

It’s while we’re on the Southside of City Hall, just about to turn the corner to Eastside at long last that we pick up our own companions. A white woman who reminds me an awful lot of my aunt with a four year old black boy riding on her shoulders. “Can we say we’re with you? His uncles are already inside and they’re not letting anyone in who isn’t with a couple right there.” “Of course!” we say.

The kid is so very confused about what all the big deal is, but there’s free pizza and the busses keep driving by and honking, so he’s having a great time.

We pass by a statue of Lincoln with ‘Marriage for All!’ and "Gay Rights are Human Rights!" flags tucked in the crooks of his arms and hanging off his hat.

It’s about noon, noon-thirty when we finally make it through the doors and out of the rain.

They’ve promised that anyone who’s inside when the doors shut will get married. We made it. We’re safe.

We still have a -long- way to go.

00000

They’re trying to fit as many people into City Hall as possible. Partially to get people out of the rain, mostly to get as many people indoors as possible. The line now stretches down into the basement and up side stairs and through hallways I’m not entirely sure the public should ever be given access to. We crawl along slowly but surely.

It’s after we’ve gone through the low-ceiling basement hallways past offices and storage and back up another set of staircases and are going through a back hallway of low-ranked functionary offices that someone comes along handing out the paperwork. “It’s an hour or so until you hit the office, but take the time to fill these out so you don’t have to do it there!”

We spend our time filling out the paperwork against walls, against backs, on stone floors, on books.

We enter one of the public areas, filled with displays and photos of City Hall Demonstrations of years past.

I take pictures of the big black and white photo of the Abraham Lincoln statue holding banners and signs against segregation and for civil rights.

The four year old boy we helped get inside runs past us around this time, chased by a blond haired girl about his own age, both perused by an exhausted looking teenager helplessly begging them to stop running.

Everyone is wet and exhausted and vibrating with anticipation and the building-wide aura of happiness that infuses everything.

The line goes into the marriage office. A dozen people are at the desk, shoulder to shoulder, far more than it was built to have working it at once.

A Sister of Perpetual Indulgence is directing people to city officials the moment they open up. She’s done up in her nun getup with all her makeup on and her beard is fluffed and be-glittered and on point. “Oh, I was here yesterday getting married myself, but today I’m acting as your guide. Number 4 sweeties, and -Congradulatiooooons!-“

The guy behind the counter has been there since six. It’s now 1:30. He’s still giddy with joy. He counts our money. He takes our paperwork, reviews it, stamps it, sends off the parts he needs to, and hands the rest back to us. “Alright, go to the Rotunda, they’ll direct you to someone who’ll do the ceremony. Then, if you want the certificate, they’ll direct you to -that- line.” “Can’t you just mail it to us?” “Normally, yeah, but the moment the courts shut us down, we’re not going to be allowed to.”

We take our paperwork and join the line to the Rotunda.

If you’ve seen James Bond: A View to a Kill, you’ve seen the San Francisco City Hall Rotunda. There are literally a dozen spots set up along the balconies that overlook the open area where marriage officials and witnesses are gathered and are just processing people through as fast as they can.

That’s for the people who didn’t bring their own wedding officials.

There’s a Catholic-adjacent couple there who seem to have brought their entire families -and- the priest on the main steps. They’re doing the whole damn thing. There’s at least one more Rabbi at work, I can’t remember what else. Just that there was a -lot-.

We get directed to the second story, northside. The San Francisco City Treasurer is one of our two witnesses. Our marriage officient is some other elected official I cannot remember for the life of me (and I'm only writing down what I can actively remember, so I can't turn to my husband next to me and ask, but he'll have remembered because that's what he does.)

I have a wilting lily flower tucked into my shirt pocket. My pants have water stains up to the knees. My hair is still wet from the rain, I am blubbering, and I can’t get the ring on my husband’s finger. The picture is a treat, I tell you.

There really isn’t a word for the mix of emotions I had at that time. Complete disbelief that this was reality and was happening. Relief that we’d made it. Awe at how many dozens of people had personally cheered for us along the way and the hundreds to thousands who’d cheered for us generally.

Then we're married.

Then we get in line to get our license.

It’s another hour. This time, the line goes through the higher stories. Then snakes around and goes past the doorway to the mayor’s office.

Mayor Newsom is not in today. And will be having trouble getting into his office on Tuesday because of the absolute barricade of letters and flowers and folded up notes and stuffed animals and City Hall maps with black marked “THANK YOU!”s that have been piled up against it.

We make it to the marriage records office.

I take a picture of my now husband standing in front of a case of the marriage records for 1902-1912. Numerous kids are curled up in corners sleeping. My own memory is spotty. I just know we got the papers, and then we’re done with lines. We get out, we head to the front entrance, and we walk out onto the City Hall steps.

It's almost 3PM.

00000

There are cheers, there’s rice thrown at us, there are hundreds of people celebrating us with unconditional love and joy and I had never before felt the goodness that exists in humanity to such an extent. It’s no longer raining, just a light sprinkle, but there are still no protestors. There’s barely even any news vans.

We make our way through the gauntlet, we get hands shaked, people with signs reading ”Congratulations!” jump up and down for us. We hit the sidewalks, and we begin to limp our way back to the BART station.

I’m at the BART station, we’re waiting for our train back south, and I’m sitting on the ground leaning against a pillar and in danger of falling asleep when a nondescript young man stops in front of me and shuffles his feet nervously. “Hey. I just- I saw you guys, down at City Hall, and I just… I’m so happy for you. I’m so proud of what you could do. I’m- I’m just really glad, glad you could get to do this.”

He shakes my hand, clasps it with both of his and shakes it. I thank him and he smiles and then hurries away as fast as he can without running.

Our train arrives and the trip south passes in a semilucid blur.

We get back to our car and climb in.

It’s 4:30 and we are starving.

There’s a Carls Jr near the station that we stop off at and have our first official meal as a married couple. We sit by the window and watch people walking past and pick out others who are returning from San Francisco. We're all easy to pick out, what with the combination of giddiness and water damage.

We get home about 6-7. We take the dog out for a good long walk after being left alone for two days in a row. We shower. We bundle ourselves up. We bury ourselves in blankets and curl up and just sort of sit adrift in the surrealness of what we’d just done.

We wake up the next day, Tuesday, to read that the California State Supreme Court has rejected the petition to shut down the San Francisco weddings because the paperwork had a misplaced comma that made the meaning of one phrase unclear.

The State Supreme Court would proceed to play similar bureaucratic tricks to drag the process out for nearly a full month before they have nothing left and finally shut down Mayor Newsom’s marriages.

My parents had been out of state at the time at a convention. They were flying into SFO about the same moment we were walking out of City Hall. I apologized to them later for not waiting and my mom all but shook me by the shoulders. “No! No one knew that they’d go on for so long! You did what you needed to do! I’ll just be there for the next one!”

00000

It was just a piece of paper. Legally, it didn’t even hold any weight thirty days later. My philosophy at the time was “marriage really isn’t that important, aside from the legal benefits. It’s just confirming what you already have.”

But maybe it’s just societal weight, or ingrained culture, or something, but it was different after. The way I described it at the time, and I’ve never really come up with a better metaphor is, “It’s like we were both holding onto each other in the middle of the ocean in the middle of a storm. We were keeping each other above water, we were each other’s support. But then we got this piece of paper. And it was like the ground rose up to meet our feet. We were still in an ocean, still in the middle of a storm, but there was a solid foundation beneath our feet. We still supported each other, but there was this other thing that was also keeping our heads above the water.

It was different. It was better. It made things more solid and real.

I am forever grateful for all the forces and all the people who came together to make it possible. It’s been twenty years and we’re still together and still married.

We did a domestic partnership a year later to get the legal paperwork. We’d done a private ceremony with proper rings (not just ones grabbed out of the husband’s collection hours before) before then. And in 2008, we did a legal marriage again.

Rushed. In a hurry. Because there was Proposition 13 to be voted on which would make them all illegal again if it passed.

It did, but we were already married at that point, and they couldn’t negate it that time.

Another few years after that, the Supreme Court finally threw up their hands and said "Fine! It's been legal in places and nothing's caught on fire or been devoured by locusts. It's legal everywhere. Shut up about it!"

And that was that.

00000

When I was in highschool, in the late 90s, I didn’t expect to see legal gay marriage until I was in my 50s. I just couldn’t see how the American public as it was would ever be okay with it.

I never expected to be getting married within five years. I never expected it to be legal nationwide before I’d barely started by 30s. I never thought I’d be in my 40s and it’d be such a non-issue that the conservative rabble rousers would’ve had to move onto other wedge issues altogether.

I never thought that I could introduce another man as my husband and absolutely no one involved would so much as blink.

I never thought I’d live in this world.

And it’s twenty years later today. I wonder how our line buddies are doing. Those babies who were running around the wide open rooms playing tag will have graduated college by now. The kids whose parents the one line-buddy was worried would see him are probably married too now. Some of them to others of the same gender.

I don’t have some greater message to make with all this. Other then, culture can shift suddenly in ways you can’t predict. For good or ill. Mainly this is just me remembering the craziest fucking 36 hours of my life twenty years after the fact and sharing them with all of you.

The future we’re resigned to doesn’t have to be the one we live in. Society can shift faster than you think. The unimaginable of twenty years ago is the baseline reality of today.

And always remember that the people who want to get married will show up by the thousands in rain that none of those who’re against it will brave.

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 31 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Everything starts to get very real once you're able to feel the baby move. It's time to share the news of your second pregnancy with family and friends, but it's hard to feel elated when Bradley starts showing attention to one of his pilots after work hours.

Warnings: Angst, adult language, body image, DILF Roo, oral sex, pregnancy topics, mentions abortion, lactation kink, jealousy, drinking

Length: 3600 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

If you weren't pregnant and exhausted, Bradley would have been concerned by how quiet you were. You seemed to need a nap as soon as you got home from work, and then you wanted to go to bed right after Rose went down in her crib each evening. When he got home quite late on Friday after working on some transfer paperwork for several hours, he was surprised to find that you seemed a little more upbeat than usual.

"Hey, Roo."

You were wearing a pair of his gym shorts while you made dinner. The house smelled delicious, and his stomach started growling as soon as he walked inside. He picked Rose up from her playmat, taking her into the kitchen as he smothered her in kisses before transferring them to you.

"You feeling okay? How's Nugget Part Deux?"

"We're exhausted. Rose is the only one with energy right now."

He supposed that was better than you telling him you couldn't stop throwing up. So far, baby number two seemed to be giving you less grief when it came to eating. "We can nap all weekend," he promised. "How was your day?"

"Pretty good," you told him with a shrug. "How was your day?"

He glanced out the back door at the enormous jungle gym, eyeing it up as an option for him and Rose to play after dinner. "Just busy. Everyone keeps me on my toes all day long. These pilots are really talented."

You seemed to wrinkle your nose at his words, staring at the food cooking on the stove as you muttered, "I'll bet they are."

Rose seemed keen on the idea of the backyard, so he kissed her soft cheek. "Yeah, I can barely keep up with them in the air, but don't tell them that. I've got my head on a swivel the whole time. Indigo and Rex nearly took me out today, and I had to go into a dive. And starting on Monday, I'm going to give myself some extra office hours to stay on top of my paperwork."

Instead of responding about his day, you started to dish out the food onto two plates with your back turned to him. "After we eat, I need to call my parents before it's too late. They're putting their house on the market next week, and I think I'm just going to tell them I'm pregnant and get it over with. I've put it off long enough."

Bradley's brow creased. "They'll be excited though. Right? I mean, maybe not as excited as me, but still excited."

You shrugged again, and he thought he might lose his mind if you kept doing it. "Aren't you at least a little worried there could be some sort of complications from having them so close together?"

A sardonic laugh almost burst from his lips. "Baby Girl, I worry about you and Rosie and the new baby constantly. Okay? Nonstop. But we can't go back now. You're already almost in the second trimester. Hey," he said, swallowing hard as you finally turned and looked at him. He held Rose just a little tighter as he whispered, "We're married. We're happy, right? You're not actually thinking about ending your pregnancy, are you?"

"No," you replied quickly, shaking your head. Bradley desperately wanted to know if there was some way he could make this easier for you, because he didn't want you to resent what was happening. But you just started crying as you shrugged again. "I just feel like our timing is terrible. And I know I have to start telling people, because I'm already showing a little bit, but I'm just so frustrated, Bradley."

He never dreamed the two of you would go from trying for months to get pregnant with Rose to being frustrated about a second pregnancy, but here you were. "I realize you've got to do most of the work right now, but when I tell you that I want another baby and that I'm excited about this, I mean it."

"I know!" you whispered quickly. "I know." You swiped at your tears before wrapping your arms around him and Rose.

"Is something else bothering you?" he murmured when your cheek came to rest on his bicep. He couldn't imagine what else could be the matter, but he needed to make sure. 

You were silent for a few beats before whispering, "I'm fine. Let's facetime my parents."

For how excited your mom was to move to California, she didn't seem to notice that your eyes looked like you'd been crying. She kept talking about selling their furniture and packing everything up. She mentioned how much she wanted to see Rose in person as she fussed over her on the video call. Just as she was starting to discuss their new house in Coronado that would make them his neighbors, Bradley heard you blurt out, "I'm pregnant."

Your parents both looked stunned on the other end of the call. "You're pregnant," your mom said, eyes drifting back to Rose in Bradley's arms. "Already?"

Now both parents were staring at Bradley as he said, "Yeah... due in April."

"April Fool's Day," you said softly.

Your parents broke out into twin grins. "I'm assuming this was a surprise to the two of you?" your dad asked. When you nodded silently, he added, "A happy surprise at least! Congratulations. You're about to have your hands very full."

"It's a good thing we're moving!" your mom practically shrieked. "Two under two! Two babies! What if you have twins?"

"We're not," Bradley replied. Then he froze. "It's not twins. Right, Sweetheart?" Now he was a little scared as you turned to look at him and laugh.

"There was just one heartbeat, Roo. Just one."

His shoulders sagged in relief. "I mean, the more the merrier, but that would be a lot."

He let Rose nap against his chest while he rubbed circles against your lower back, and soon enough, your parents were ending the call with the promise that they would be in Coronado for Christmas. "We'll either be living there by then or we'll fly out for the holiday if our house here hasn't sold yet."

Everything sounded good to Bradley, and five minutes after the call ended, you fell asleep on him, too.

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

When you fell asleep on Cam's shoulder at brunch on Sunday, you figured it was time to tell him and Maria what was going on.

"I'm pregnant. Again."

Maria jumped out of her seat to cram into the opposite of the booth, sandwiching you between her and Cam. "Damn, girl! You've wasted no time!"

"Lieutenant Commander Mustache is working with some high fucking quality goods, huh?" Cam marveled, shaking his head slowly in reverence. "Congratulations."

"Thanks," you whispered, voice harsh and near tears. You had no control over your emotions. This was just like when you were pregnant with Rose, but with less vomiting and more fatigue. Everything made you upset enough that you wanted to cry or angry enough that you wanted to kick down a door. Including your husband.

You answered Cam and Maria's questions as you thought about that woman you'd seen around base with Bradley a few times. They were never alone, always part of a larger group, but you didn't like how she looked at him. And you didn't want to mention it to him, because you knew how ridiculous it was going to sound.

"Hey, I'm really tired," you eventually told your friends. "Do this again in two weeks?" You wanted to go home and nap while Bradley still had Rose out for a walk along the beach. You just wanted to be alone.

"Of course," Maria promised. "I'll text Bob to come pick me up, but you two can go on ahead."

"I'll wait with you," Cam told her, giving you a kiss on the cheek.

You made your way out and went home, leaning against the front door in relief when you found the house completely empty. Even Tramp and his yellow leash were gone. You ran to bed, curled up under the covers, and cradled your hand against your belly. It was impossible to tell if you had a baby bump, or if you were still chubby from last time. 

Your thumb ran along the top of your leggings as you started to cry. You needed to pull yourself together. Did you cry this much with Rose? Did everything make you feel like you looked disgusting? Eventually you dozed for about an hour before the sound of the front door closing jolted you awake. Rose started screaming, probably hungry after being out for so long. You rolled out of bed, avoiding your reflection in the mirror at all costs, and went to meet them in the kitchen.

Bradley was trying to bounce Rose to keep her quiet, but you yanked your shirt off and reached for her. "Sorry," he muttered as your daughter latched on to eat as soon as she was touching you. "I tried."

"It's okay." 

You fed one baby while you considered that her younger sibling was growing inside you, and for once, you couldn't figure out if you wanted to laugh or cry. 

While she ate, Bradley looked at his phone and groaned. "Nat wants us to go to the Hard Deck tonight."

The idea of going out and pretending that you were drinking alcohol was too much to handle. Even if you could find someone to watch Rose, it didn't sound like a fun time.

"You go," you told him.

He glanced up and said, "I don't want to go without you."

A smile graced your lips as you told him, "Just go for one drink with your best friend. I'll drop you off and pick you up. You can tell her I'm pregnant if you want to."

"Really?" he asked, perking up like Tramp did when presented with a treat.

"Yeah. I told Maria and Cam earlier. I actually fell asleep on his shoulder in the booth, and when I woke up, they were both gaping at me. I figured I needed to say something."

Bradley snorted. "What did they have to say about Bradshaw Baby number two?"

"Cam is under the impression that you are working with some high quality equipment."

He burst into laughter. "I mean..."

You rolled your eyes as Rose switched to your other side. It was easy to feel better about things when it was just the three of you at home. You looked at your husband as he ate an apple in four bites and convinced yourself he would never do anything to hurt you. Then he drank half a beer and belched while he adjusted his junk, and you thought perhaps nobody else would want to deal with him anyway.

"I'll text Nat back. Then I'll pull the weeds around the playset while I decide what I'm doing about the bar."

You let Rose take a nap, but now that you'd also had one, you felt a little restless. Even after you did a few chores, including looking at items for a second baby nursery online, you wanted to get out of the house again. When Bradley came inside, stripping his sweaty shirt over his head, he said, "One drink. Don't leave me there too long, okay?"

"Is Jake going, too? Maybe I'll see if Cat and Jer are home and want visitors."

"That's a great idea," he replied, taking your hand when he walked past. When he gave you a little tug, you didn't move. "You coming?" he asked, clearly puzzled. 

"Where?"

"What do you mean where?" he scoffed, tugging again. "To take a shower with me while Rose naps. Where else?"

It was hard to think about anything when your husband was on his knees in front of you, steamy water swirling around his tattooed bicep while his hands pinned you to the tile wall. But it was especially hard to focus on anything other than the feel of his mouth on your body. The scrape of his mustache. The pull of his lips. Soft and demanding and needy.

"Roo," you gasped, lungs full of the humid air, sucking in deep breaths as he looked up at you.

"God, Baby Girl," he rasped, thumb teasing your dainty rooster tattoo. "I'm so spoiled. Your tits look so pretty, and your belly will be big again soon."

You let your fingers drag through his wet curls, pushing them back from his forehead while he kissed the spot where you felt so tender as the baby grew.

"Roo!" you gasped, your hands both flying to your belly. "The baby! I can feel the baby moving!"

"Shit, really?"

His eyes were wide, alert with anticipation as you moved his palm to the spot where you could feel squirming. He eased himself closer on his knees, the shower hitting both of you with warm spray while he let you guide him. You felt it again, just another squirm as you pressed his palm harder to your belly.

"Right there," you whispered, and he closed his eyes. Your heart beat in your ears, an undeniably excited rhythm.

"I can't wait to feel it, too," he murmured, his cheek coming to rest against his hand. "You couldn't feel Rose this early."

"No," you agreed, watching your husband fall even more in love with the unborn baby. "Maybe another week or two and they'll be big enough for you to feel it." You played with his hair, letting him stay put until the water started to get cold.

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

"I'll pick you up in a little while," you informed Bradley when you pulled into the parking lot at the Hard Deck. "Jake is already here, so I'll take Rose to hang out with Cat and Jer for a bit."

"Sounds good." He kissed you before unbuckling and leaning into the backseat to kiss his daughter. He was still shocked and in a mild daze over the baby moving during the shower. He wanted to feel those kicks against his palm, and now he'd be all over you in the upcoming weeks, looking for his chance. 

"Have fun," you called before pulling away in your Bronco, but going to the bar to hang out without you was not his idea of a great night. He decided he'd just wait and see how the evening progressed before making a decision about telling Nat about the pregnancy. He smiled as he wondered how long it would be until you had to start wearing the maternity tent to work again.

"There you are!" shouted Nat when he walked past the bar, waving to Penny. "We're about to play pairs. You're with Hangman. Rack 'em, Rooster."

Bradley sighed and took the pool cue as she thrust it into his hand. "Can't I get a beer first?"

She turned and shouted, "Hey, Coyote! Get Rooster one!"

Javy saluted him from the bar as Bradley nodded and settled in to start the game. He and Jake wouldn't even have to try too hard to beat Nat and Reuben, but as he got into the groove of things, he realized he was having a pretty good time.

"You want another?" Jake asked him, and soon one beer turned into three. Bradley ended up buying the fourth round for his friends when Mickey arrived. He had enough in his system to not give a shit when Jake started ribbing on him for his new position at work.

"The way your students all jump to attention when they see you has got to be the funniest fucking thing I've ever seen in my life," he drawled, and Bradley nudged his foot, making him miss his shot.

"I'm still in shock that Cat agreed to marry you," Bradley replied before taking a sip of beer.

Jake rolled his eyes. "I'm surprised Angel let you get her pregnant. Shocked the baby didn't come out with a mustache."

Nat was cackling while Bradley snorted. "She's pregnant again." The words slipped out, but they felt too fucking good on his tongue, just like your body had in the shower.

"What?!"

He was instantly surrounded by his friends while Nat wrapped him up in a hug. "Are you serious? Another one so soon?" she asked with a suspicious looking smirk.

"Yeah," he replied, letting her squeeze him until he thought she might displace a rib. "Apparently I'm working with some high quality equipment."

"Ew!" Nat shrieked, letting go of him while Jake shook his hand. 

"Poor Angel," he drawled. "She'll have another little Bradshaw on the loose soon."

"Whiskey shots on me," Reuben said, slapping Bradley hard on the back.

"Thanks, man," he replied while conversation about the baby settled to a normal volume. He drank his shot of whiskey, and that's when he realized he was actually kind of drunk.

The game of pool wore on, but nobody seemed to be keeping track of who won. So he kept going until his phone vibrated in his jeans pocket.

Baby Girl Bradshaw: I'm almost there. Rose fell asleep.

"I have to run," Bradley announced, dropping his cue into Jake's hand. 

"You're so fucking whipped," Jake drawled. "Get out of here and knock your wife up again.... oh, wait."

Bradley gave him and everyone else double middle fingers behind his back as he walked toward the exit. He was tired and warm and buzzed, and he wanted to curl up next to you in bed and kiss the back of your neck. And maybe you'd let him look at your gorgeous tits. Maybe if he was really good, you'd let him taste you. The evening air hit his body, igniting so much need in him.

"Oh, sorry," he grunted, nearly plowing over someone in his rush to get to the parking lot.

"Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw," came a now familiar voice. Blue eyes flashed up at him along with a smile that kept growing.

Indigo was dressed in street clothes, but he tried not to take notice as he nodded. "I knew you'd find The Hard Deck without my help."

She laughed, bright and clear as he tried to step past her. "Don't tell me you're leaving for the night."

A little pout found her lips, and Bradley nodded. "Yeah. It's getting late for a Sunday."

"Come on," she whined, the back of her hand brushing his as he made his way around her. "Let me buy you one drink."

His mind was still gooey with thoughts of taking you to bed as he shook his head. "Thanks, but I really need to go. Enjoy your night."

Then Nat burst through the door, movements slowing when she met his eyes. "You left your phone on the pool table." She tossed it to him, coordination pretty good for how much she'd had to drink. She started backing up toward the door as she said, "You better go home with your pregnant wife!"

Bradley smiled at his friend, but he could feel Indigo's eyes on him as he stepped off the deck toward the parking lot. And there you were, standing in the first aisle with your back against the red Bronco. Your lips were set in a firm line, and Bradley was about to make it his personal mission to kiss away that expression.

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

That younger woman was here with him. You'd seen her around base plenty of times lately, but now she was here. At the Hard Deck. At your favorite bar in your neighborhood. She was with your husband at the bar. They were already standing there together when you drove up and parked.

"Who is that woman?" you snapped at Bradley who was clearly drunk. His hands were all over your waist and hips as soon as he reached you.

"Hey, Sweetheart." His voice was deep and sexy, and you wanted nothing more than to melt into him, but she was still staring you down.

"Who. Is. She?" you hissed, your eyes starting to burn with unshed tears as you stared back. Bradley was kissing your neck now as the woman finally turned and went inside the bar. You already knew who she was. You were sure of it. You'd heard him use her call sign countless times, but you wanted him to say it now. "Bradley!"

"Huh?" he grunted, meeting your eyes.

"Who is that woman you were just with?"

"Natasha?" he asked, and you wanted to scream.

"The other woman, Bradley."

"Oh. That's Indigo."

Your heart sank as soon as he confirmed it for you, but he didn't seem to notice or care that you suddenly felt like your skin was on fire. That woman who was still so fresh out of flight school was already a top pilot, and she was beautiful, and she wanted your husband.

"Baby Girl," he moaned next to your ear. "Let's go home. Maybe we can get in bed and snuggle while I try to feel the baby move? Or you could let me finish what we started in the shower? I'm already so wound up."

You opened the passenger side door for him, slamming it shut as soon as he was inside. You glared at the entrance to the Hard Deck before heading around the Bronco to drive him home.

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

Either way, it still looks bad, Bradley. We are riding along with all of BG's emotions, and it's a lot to handle. Thanks for reading. More coming soon. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

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[ed-recoverry]

“The year is almost over and I did nothing!”

Okay, well did you…

Finish a book?

Make a home cooked meal?

Get a new job?

Get a promotion?

Finish another semester of school?

Get your GED/high school diploma?

Get your associates, certification, degree, masters, and or doctorate?

Take an online class?

Finish a project?

Start a new hobby?

Start a new book?

Talk to a new person?

Made a new friend?

Went to something you didn’t want to?

Write a new story?

Start journaling?

Start to dress different?

Start learning a new skill?

Go to the doctor?

Fix your sleep schedule?

Rekindle a relationship?

Go on a date?

Get help?

Ask for help?

Apologize?

Make amends?

Stay sober (even for a few days)?

Stay clean (even for a few days)?

Donate to charity?

Volunteer?

Try something new?

Travel somewhere new?

Do something you were dreading?

Do something you were scared of?

Start showering regularly?

Start brushing your teeth regularly?

Come out?

Go to therapy?

Admit you need help?

Start regularly walking?

Finally find the right combination of meds?

Finally get a diagnosis?

Create a morning routine?

Stick to a morning routine?

Create a nighttime routine?

Stick to a nighttime routine?

Start spending allotted time without electronics?

Admit you’re wrong?

Confront someone who wronged you?

Start reaching out first?

Make a really big decision?

Break up with a toxic partner/friend?

Realize you were traumatized?

Talk about your trauma?

Clean your room regularly?

Make your bed regularly?

Lose weight healthily?

Gain weight healthily?

Start recovery?

Attempt to start recovery?

Continue recovering?

Become a parent?

Adopt a pet?

Care for a person?

Care for a pet?

Care for yourself?

Quit that job you hate?

Get into your dream school?

Pass that shitty class?

Make progress in therapy?

Get that haircut you’ve always wanted?

Start hormone therapy?

Start treatment?

Get surgery?

Care for a plant?

Save money?

Get engaged?

Get married?

Make a big purchase?

Move?

Grieve?

Stay alive?

Because in my book, that is a huge accomplishment!

[burrowdarling]

A Magical Surprise

Summary: You plan a trip with your little family to Disney, but you have a magical surprise for Joe of your own. Requested by this anon!

Pairings: dad!Joe Burrow x mom!reader

Warnings: none, some Disney adventure fluff, Joe having major dad energy, pregnancy announcement

Note: Hi! Thank you to the anon who requested this. Some good ole tooth-rotting fluff after all the spice I've written recently. I think this turned out cute, and I somewhat proofread it (oops). Hope you all enjoy!

Word Count: 1.8k

Check out my Masterlist here!

Taglist: @burrowbarbie @definitelynotdomanique @one-sweet-gubler @plushkhiii @enchantedinfinity @iosivb9 Feel free to comment or message me if you'd like to be added to the list!

You and Joe had talked at length about taking your little family on a getaway. The two of you as a couple hadn’t taken a trip since you had your son, aside from going to see Joe play. It took a bit of time for you to get to that point and were only able to travel to so many games. Your son had not taken a trip outside of Joe’s games before either, having both of your families local was a blessing. After some planning and brainstorming, the two of you decided what better place to take him than Disney. He was at that age where he was able to go on the rides and actually enjoy it as well as you and Joe getting to bask in some memories while he was little. Everything was still so new to him in his little world, that being able to bring his favorite characters to life would be an amazing sight to see.

In the days leading up to the trip, you had been feeling somewhat off. You hadn’t thought too much of it, but there were some similarities to the symptoms you had felt when you were pregnant with your son. You decided to play it safe and take a pregnancy test before you traveled. Sure as shit, the small plus sign popped up fairly quickly and confirmed your suspicions. You were so excited, having discussed before that it felt like the right time to try for baby #2. It was eating at you that you hadn't told him yet but had the perfect idea planned out to surprise him during your trip. 

You were able to play how you were feeling off to Joe by saying how you must’ve gotten a little bit of something from work, but how you knew you’d be feeling better in time. He seemed wary, but took your word for it, doting on you for anything you asked for. 

“I just want to make sure you’re okay mamas, gotta be feeling well so you can enjoy our trip” Joe would say, bringing you crackers and seltzer to settle your stomach. Little did he know, it was your morning sickness hitting you in full force. You couldn’t wait to tell him.

Your flight was a breeze, your son sleeping the entire way like a saint. It gave you and Joe some time to catch up and just talk. It was so nice getting to reconnect together with no other worries to bother you while you’re in the air. Being married to a star had its perks, having taken a private flight meant no needing to wait around in an airport full of strangers and a smooth arrival, avoiding baggage claim and a car waiting for you. Joe loaded in all of your bags while you got your son settled into his carseat, making your way from the tarmac to the hotel. 

After a long day of travel, you got your son to settle down to bed somewhat easily. You were laid in in the hotel king bed when Joe came in from 

You got up bright and early the next day, hoping to beat the rush of the crowd. You’d also hoped you wouldn’t be bothered, having the fast pass as well as going during an off peak time. Your son's face had lit up with excitement the moment he got inside the gates, wondering what someone as small as he was must’ve been thinking about everything around him. His entire childhood was right before his eyes.

“I wanna go on dumbo” he exclaimed, about to take off before Joe reached out to scoop him up into his arms, a fit of giggles ensuing.

“Not so fast little man, this isn’t like the park at home we got to keep you close by. We can go on Dumbo, let’s go get in line” Joe said after he got him to settle enough to listen, his little arms flailing with elation at his dad’s word. You look at your two boys with a warm feeling in your chest, knowing today was the day you were going to tell him he was 

After quite a few rides, it was getting to be lunch time. You could tell that your boys were hungry, knowing you’d need to stop for food soon if you were gonna keep at it for the rest of the day. Your little boy was starting to get a little hangry, ready to throw a tantrum when he was told to wait for his mouse ears hat he wanted. You assured him he would get it, after he got some much needed food in his belly. That was, until you realized this was the perfect opportunity for your reveal idea.

“Hey hun, would you be able to grab us some lunch? I’ll wait for the hat to get made and meet you both at the table” you said, silently hoping he would abide by your request. The food court wasn’t far from the stand, knowing he could keep an eye on you from a close distance.

“Sure thing, want your go-to?” he asked, your boy in his arms resting on his side. You nodded, giving him a kiss of approval before he walked off to get some lunch. You exhaled a breath you didn;t realize you were holding in, knowing this would be a big moment for you two.

You got to talking with the park employee that was working the stand, explaining your idea to her and gushing over how cute it was going to be. You were going to have your son’s name stitched into the front of the hat. On the back, you had her add in “Big Brother”, letting the reveal come from the little hat on your son's head. She got it back to you fairly quickly, the sight of it beginning tears to your eyes from how happy this life has made you. 

You were excited to be growing your family with the man of your dreams, snapping yourself out of your thoughts to compose yourself. You were making your way to your family when your heart melted all over again. Joe and your son were sitting at a picnic bench, your son trying his hardest to reach the table on his own from the bench seat, but being lifted up by Joe to be sat on his lap. He seemed perfectly content with the new seat, easily able to reach his food on his own. 

Joe looked up at you as you approached the table, a big grin across his face when you sat down. Your son had matched his energy, eyes lighting up when he saw you with the ears in hand.

“Hey mamas, we got you some chicken tenders and fries” Joe said while your son had cut him off “those are your favorite, mine too” he said as he reached over to take some of your fries with his little hands. You laughed as he did so, pushing the small tray closer so that he could reach. 

“I got your hat for you sweetheart, we can put it on after we eat. What ride do you wanna go on next?” you asked, hoping to keep his immediate focus off of the hat clutched in your hands. He placed his index finger on his chin, tapping as if he was deep in thought. He pointed his finger straight up with a look of surprise on his face when he must've made his decision.

“I wanna see Mickey Minnie castle” he cheered happily. You couldn’t say no, even if that was on the other side of the park from where you were currently. You and Joe exchanged looks, knowing one of you was going to be carrying him not too long into your walk.

As you got closer to the castle, your son was itching to walk. He looked absolutely adorable with his little ears on, seeing the secret stitched onto the back as you walked close behind your boys. You snapped a quick picture as they walked up to the castle, knowing this would be a memory you wouldn’t want to forget. 

When you reached the castle, you asked one of the many photographers around to get a photo of the three of you. The photographer snapped a couple of shots, thanking her and moving on before you made your move towards the reveal. 

“Joe why don’t you flip his ears around, I think there was something on the back” you said nonchalantly as you stepped away from him. He tilted his head in confusion, but listened to your words. You watched as he slipped the elastic band from under your son’s chin and turned the back to the front, pausing to read the words in front of him. 

Joe turned his head slowly towards you as he processed the words “Big Brother” on your son's head. He seemed at a loss for words for a few seconds before he spoke up.

“Are you serious? You’re pregnant again?” his voice hopeful as you saw tears begin to well in his eyes. You gave him a small nod as tears started to come up for you too. Joe took a few steps over to you with your son in his arms as he embraced you in as tight of a hug he could muster.

“I’m so damn happy baby, how long have you known?” Joe questioned, his voice full of adoration from the news. 

“Not too long, it’s the whole reason I haven’t been feeling well. It’s been the hardest secret I’ve had to keep, you have no idea how badly I wanted to tell you” you laughed lightly, watching him process and a realization cross his face.

“I knew you couldn’t have gotten something from work that fast. God, I’m so excited I get to go through all of this with you, this was such a cute way to tell me even though I wish I knew sooner so I could’ve been there for you more” he set your son down, giving you a one-armed squeeze while your son grabbed onto your leg.

“Everything you did and still do for me is perfect. You’re an amazing dad to our little boy and I can’t wait to see how you handle one more little boy or girl” you said, giving him a kiss to add a finality to your words.

“Is it bad that I’m hoping for a girl so we both can have our own little minis?” Joe asked while lifting your son onto his shoulders to give him a good view.

“I just know you would be an amazing girl dad if it’s anything like how you treat me” you said, imagining Joe with your daughter and knowing how much he would spoil her.

“If I treat you like my queen, I would treat her like my princess,” he said as you all looked up at the castle in front of you. Your life felt like a fairytale that you got to live with your dream man.

[katastrophicmind]

Pillow Talkin'

summary: you and Dean talk about the future, in bed, pure fluff

pairing: Dean Winchester x female!reader

wc: 381

+:★:+*━━*+:★:+*━━*+:★:+*━━*+:★:+

Dean rolls away from you, back onto the thin motel mattress, supporting himself by leaning up on his elbow, staring down at you with that cocky grin you know all too well.

“Must you cheapen the moment, Dean?”

“...Sorry sweetheart” he drawls lazily, eyes half-lidded in a post-coital haze.

“Why’re ya staring?”

Dean sighs, “just thinking”, reaching down to gently curl his fingers around your wrist, pulling it up to press a soft kiss on your palm before intertwining his fingers with yours, giving a soft, loving squeeze.

“Alright,” you say, entertaining your boyfriend’s game, “what’re you thinking about?”

“You, us, our future. Wondering if maybe we’ll settle down and get married — end up makin' you Mrs. Dean Winchester — buy a house, have ourselves some rugrats runnin’ around one day. Wonderin’ if Sammy will give our brats some cousins.” Dean rolls his eyes at that, of course, his brother will settle down and have a few kids, that’s practically his life’s ambition. “I’ve been thinking…I could try out being a firefighter, y’know? Still savin’ people, riskin’ my life, but not as much as I do now. And I'd get to come home to my pretty little housewife.” He finishes with a wink.

“Really, Dean?” you say, quirking a brow. “You’d settle down, give up hunting and live a normal, apple pie life? I find that hard to believe. And," you add as an unamused afterthought, "who says I’d just be your housewife.”

Dean brings your hand back up to his lips, closing his eyes and pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. “Long as you’re there with me sweetheart, I’d give it all up in a heartbeat. All you gotta do is say the word.”

You wait a beat before speaking with mock disgust, “And the housewife part?”

Dean chuckles, “Just like the thought of takin’ care of you.”

You squeeze your eyes shut and giggle, images of blond-haired, freckled children running around, flashing through your mind. Dean coming home from a long day of work to spoil you and the children. “I’ve known you for three years already Dean Winchester, yet you still always manage to surprise me.”

“We got plenty of years of surprises left, sweetheart,” Dean says with a sly wink, wrapping you up in his arms.

+:★:+*━━*+:★:+*━━*+:★:+*━━*+:★:+

a/n: heyy so sorry if this is crappy i haven't written in quite a while and decided to restart with a new blog. Dean might be kinda ooc but I'm soft for soft Dean so lmk what u think, tysm :P

[cjlouwho]

For tommy&rocker twins- Someone from SWAT seeing Tommy w Buck on their day off and thinking ???rocker has a secret boyfriend???

Hondo cannot believe his eyes.

He supposes he shouldn't be too surprised. Deacon and Rocker's relationship did start as cheating... for a year and a half. So, maybe that's just part of who Rocker is. Now that he has Deacon all to himself, the thrill is gone. Now that Deacon has set his whole life on fire, divorcing a woman he was married to for nearly 20 years and working nonstop to repair his relationship with his kids, Rocker is bored and in need of someone new.

And younger.

They look so happy too. Hands intertwined as they walk through the farmers' market, the younger one practically glued to Rocker's side as he smiles up at him.

Then they're looking over the fruits together, and Rocker is scrunching his face up and laughing at something this other guy said. Hondo doesn't give himself enough time to wonder if he's overreacting, because he's seeing a wrong happening right in front of his eyes, and he needs to fix it. Not for himself, but for his best friend! His best friend, who has been so much happier since coming clean about being with Rocker. His best friend who, despite all the issues with the divorce, says he feels freer than he's ever felt before.

He walks up to this "happy couple" and taps on Rocker's shoulder.

"Hey," he begins, expecting Rocker's eyes to widen once he realizes he's been caught.

Instead he gets a confused smile. "Hey. Sorry, are we in your way?"

"Are you..." Hondo huffs out a breath, shaking his head. He turns to the younger guy, who also looks confused. "Hondo Harrelson," he introduces, sticking out his hand.

Buck shakes it, hesitant. "Evan... Buckley. Buck's fine though. This is Tommy. D- Do we know you?"

"No, no, you don't. This guy here does," he says, placing a hand on Rocker's shoulder. "Tommy?" he questions. "Really?"

Tommy nods. "Really." He glances over at the hand that's still on his shoulder. "You might have me confused with someone else."

"I just don't get it," Hondo says, dropping his hand as he glares. "Deacon upended his life for you, Man, and you go and do this? This isn't who I thought you were."

"I'm not- Wait, Deacon? Who-"

"Does Buck know about Deacon? Or are you leading him on too?"

"Yeah," Buck says, tugging at Tommy's hand. "You just leading me on too?"

And if Hondo wasn't pissed before, he certainly was now that this Buck had the nerve to be smiling!

Tommy rolls his eyes. "Evan," he groans before looking back at Hondo. "Hondo, right?"

"Seriously?"

"Okay, Hondo, you must work with my brother, Donovan Rocker?"

Hondo's face relaxes slightly. "Brother?"

Tommy nods. "Identical twin brother."

"Oh... Oh, man I didn't know-"

"It's fine," Tommy interrupts, giving Hondo a smile. "Not the first time it's happened."

"I didn't know Rocker had a brother," Hondo starts to explain. "I just saw you and I jumped to conclusions. I'm sorry, Tommy."

"Not a problem," Tommy assures him. "We don't really see each other much. Hell, we don't even share a last name. It's an easy mix up."

"Well, I'm sorry again, both of you. I will, uh, I'll let you get back to your day. It was good to meet you both." With a quick shake of both of their hands, he's on his way.

As soon as Hondo is out of earshot, Buck eyes Tommy. "Okay, so Deacon?" he questions.

"Did not even know Donny was into guys," Tommy says, already pulling out his phone and dialing his brother's number. "We are having dinner tonight, whether he likes it or not."

Buck grins, excited for whatever Tommy-family news he's about to learn. "I'll bake bread!"

[alpirsoahpp]

so you keep going to classes under the threat of imminent nuclear attack and everyone is FREAKING OUT until the popular girl whos now the vice president somehow- why is everyone leaving school over this- proposed to the guy that was in the love triangle/polycule. he's now leading the military as they search for the terrorist(?) who just kind of vanished and he doesnt really say yes but its kind of implied that they'll get married so you throw a party but suddenly he's on the terrorist(?)'s side and DEAD and you're just trying to survive midterms! now everyone's gossiping about a mysterious little girl that fell from the sky and murdered a senator (who you went to school with too and was the terrorists sister) by accident, which makes no sense whatsoever! but the girl is undocumented and alone so no one even knows who she is and how she pulled off a murder! this wouldn't really matter but the terrorist(?) is obsessed with the shoes the girl stole from her sister for no reason. now all people will talk about at school is how everything is going insane and then the terrorist starts mutilating people from your school but she was so nerdy and not-a-terrorist when you knew her so you're really confused but so scared that she'll just nuke the whole school. then you wake up one morning and the president is on an indefinite leave, your professor is in JAIL, and the popular girl is in charge. you have to wonder if she staged this for power, but if the nerdy girl was in on it why is she also DEAD NOW?? WHAT. but hey, good news because won't get nuked, so everyone skips school to throw a party for the new president who saved our asses but now she's CRYING? why is she telling us a tragic story about the terrorist's childhood? they mustve been sleeping together, right? honestly, why is she even the president, she didn't finish her college education! where even is the old president??? WHAT IS HAPPENING

It’s so funny to imagine Wicked from the perspective of one of the normal students at Shiz. There’s this girl and she’s weird and an overachieving nerd and no one likes her, but then the popular girl becomes best friends with her overnight so you guess she’s chill now. They might be sleeping together but no one’s really sure. They’re also low key dating the same guy but you’re not clear on if it’s a polycule situation or a love triangle. Whatever. You’re just trying to study for finals. Your history teacher gets arrested and no explains why. You just hope this won’t effect your grade in the class. The weird nerdy girl gets a letter from the president inviting her to come see him. Wow, that’s exciting. She and her maybe-girlfriend go off to the capitol and you go back to homework and dorm room parties. One day later one of your professors is on the national radio saying that the weird nerdy girl, who used to be her favorite student, is now a terrorist, has stolen the nuclear codes, and is on the run from the government. You are still expected to show up to class tomorrow.

[heich0e]

i think that tobio is the type of person who speaks in absolutes. he's always been frank—sometimes to a fault. but it translates to the way he speaks in terms of certainty. he deals in whens, not in ifs.

WHEN i go pro. WHEN i join the national team. WHEN we win the match.

and this conviction carries over to your relationship.

you've barely started dating, barely gotten your toes across the threshold of that new relationship—still giddy with nerves and thrumming with possibility—and tobio completely takes you off guard with some of the things he says.

WHEN you meet my family. WHEN we move in together. WHEN we get married.

and it's all so overwhelming to you; not because you don't want those things, not because you don't like that he's saying them, but just because you've never had a partner who's as forthright as he is—especially not so early on in the relationship. and though it's largely down to inexperience—you're the first person tobio has ever said these things to, after all—there's something so endearing about the fact that you know he really means it.

[simp-ly-writes]

To Be Someone To You

─────── · · How Could You Refuse? (pt.8)

Pairing: Jayce Talis x Shy!Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: You started your new life, got a new job and making new friends yet it seemed no matter how hard you tried to forget about him- Jayce's presence always lingered in your life and it seems that even he himself is not ready or willing to be out of it- he begs you not to be stranger, we only want to be someone to you.

─ · · TAGS: female pronouns used, protective! jealous! grovelling! Jayce, some emotional angst but a LOAD of fluff (potentially cheesy) and mutual pining, kissing, teasing, sharing clothes, intoxication, a side-OC, reader is mentioned to have hair and is shorter than Jayce, not beta read.

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 4,814 | PART ONE | PREV PART | NEXT PART

─ · · A/N: THEY ARE JUST SO UGH, I NEED IT- PLEASE 😩‼️

─────── · ·

─ · · The carriage continued down the road and into a neighbouring region. You were shocked to see various members of the local guard awaiting your presence and helping you out of the carriage before leading you towards their parliament buildings. To your equal shock people waved and smiled once seeing you, what the hell did Jayce do now? You ask yourself standing in front of the prime ministers desk. "We have been expecting your arrival Miss (last/name). Councillor Talis had informed us..." you zoned out for the rest of his speech nodding along until Ximena Talis squeezed your hand, bringing you back to reality, "...we have a few professors and scholars in the area that would love to work with you if you are interested Miss?"

You smile and nod, "I would love to take that opportunity, thank you." An assistant suddenly comes in running, "this way, ma'am," they lead out of the office and back out onto the street, pointing you in the direction of the university before the parliament doors shut behind you and seemingly on your old life.

─────── · ·

─ · · In the next coming days that turned into weeks you worked alongside Evren, a professor and active researcher at the local university as his new lab and teaching assistant. It felt great to meet new people, be back in the lab space, and to see all of Evren's students, you loved your new position getting to work with the next generation of scientists and develop their skills yet it always surprised you how excited they were to talk with and learn from you.

─ · · You could scoff remembering your first day sitting in Evrens' office as he walked you through the learning material and basic questions students commonly asked that you could filter for him. You were beyond anxious to mess something up or to have a hoard of students calling after you yet Evren only taught the upper years and from having such small classes he really only needed you to grade work and developing new material with him.

─ · · Evren always made sure you were comfortable and confident before leaving you with the students or in the lab when he had to take a step away. He even helped you to move in to your's and Xiema's new apartment and bought a wine bottle for you all to share while building furniture (class was cancelled that next morning as you all stayed up way too late laughing and sharing stories).

"Do you know I was married for a year?" he asks you, cheeks flushed red from the booze in his system as he fixed his glasses- an anxious tick. "No way, really?" you asked, leaning forwards in your seat with wide eyes as Xiema scoffed mentioning she was heading to bed as you two waved her goodbye for the night. "Yeah, high school sweetheart turned out not so... sweet. Stole all my work and designs I had yet to publish."

"I'm so sorry to hear that, Evren," you say, giving him a pat on the shoulder as he shrugs, fixing his curly brown hair. "Well," he begins in a matter-of-factly tone, "I actually thanked her for doing so since I came up with a better idea the next week." You throw your head back laughing as his dry commentary, your heart racing remembering how Viktor used to talk to you like this. You face soon falls remembering the man Viktor connected himself to... Jayce.

"Hey, everything alright?" Evren's face falls, green eyes looking into yours with concern as you pull away and look distantly through the window. "Just... remembering past things," you try and move conversation, feeling anger, pain, and sadness starting to boil underneath your skin the more you think about it. "Favourite book?" Evren asks into the dead air as you look at him with relief for not asking any further questions- he seems to silently understand what you were going through internally and you were thankful for it.

"Asking all the hard questions aren't you now," you tease before burying yourself into the blankets on the couch as he throws you a pillow, "don't fall asleep on me now-" Evren begins to say seeing you ready to doze off. A wave of deja vu flashes over you and see Jayce's eyes looking into your own before blinking them away to see green again. Evren now looks exceptionally concerned, "I wasn't going to press earlier but I am worried about you, friend."

You smile at the term, something you both established at the beginning as many of the students "shipped" you two together. "I just hate that I miss him. Hate that I always check the death lists coming from Piltover- wait to see his name as they study corpse after corpse. I just feel disgusted with myself for..." you fail to continue your sentence, confused as to what to say next.

The thought of Jayce Talis made your heart race and equally ache, he made your blood boil and yet when you flipped through one of the few journals you packed, you broke down at the messages and jokes he wrote to you in the margins, you couldn't help but cry for everything you had lost. You swore to see him sometimes between the ailes of bookshelves in the library, at the market, or out of the corner of your eye. But when you would walk closer, you would either just walk right through the mist of him or just blink him away like another fleeting thought.

You were bitter towards that fact as you regretted your final moments together. You knew your feelings were in the right but looking back, you would have made the same choices that Jayce did. Trying to play into that fantasy future you both could have had for as long as possible... knowing the inevitable. Giving yourself that peace to enjoy every moment no matter how short as if nothing could come in between you both. It pained you with want just pleading with your past self to step back into that council room and just hold him, go against your pain and your anger and just have lived a little moment longer.

Evren holds out his hand and seeing that you don't take it he gently flicks the side of your head, "It's okay to be frustrated. You hate them because you loved them once, nothings wrong with working through emotions at our own pace."

"Thank you Evren... I really needed to hear that," you respond, closing your heavy eyes. "Goodnight, (name)," he whispers before you hear the door lock closed behind you for the night.

─────── · ·

─ · · Your daily schedule continued as it usually did yet today felt different and the title of todays paper only concerted that, 'councillors working together to build stronger cities'. Piltover and Zaun were combining resources to rebuild- your heart ached remembering this is what Viktor and Jayce worked so hard towards... and now they wouldn't be able to see their vision finally coming to life. Near the end of the newspaper it noted that the final list of the deceased would be out by the end of the week, and still not sights on the name Jayce Talis.

─ · · You stumbled into Evrens office later that day holding coffees for you both as you apologized for being late, the shock of the headlines still ringing through your head, "shit sorry I'm late, did you get a chance to read the news yet- its crazy I never thought this day would..." you slowly stop talking once not hearing Evren respond, hanging up your jacket over his as he stares at you, leaning against a windowsill with an apologetic look on his face before walking over and pulling you in for small hug.

You pat his back, "bad day already?" you mumble with a slight groan not looking forwards to it. You feel Evren shake his head before another voice clears their throat from behind you both. You feel as Evren jumps in your arms before he pulls away and grips your shoulders, forcing you not to look just yet. "I promise you that I had no idea, if I had I would have screened you first and this was not my choice and-"

You take a deep breath before looking over and your heart drops seeing... "Jayce?" sitting behind Evrens desk glaring at the other mans hold on you before catching your eyes and smiling anxiously. You can feel the world slow, your vision tunnelling to his smile and the shake in his hands he tries to hide by holding them together. Blinking away tears, as he slowly nods and stands, you hold out your hand, silently asking him to stay in his spot. "Am I seeing things, Ev?" you ask in a small voice, unsure.

Evren takes his time to respond, "that is Councillor Talis," he confirms before starting to move out of the room to give you both space yet you reach out and grip his hand for support. You look at Evren, "thank you, I'll be in lecture soon." He nods, giving your hand a squeeze and shuts the door softly behind himself.

"I know you must be confused but please allow me to explain-" Jayce begins before you cut him off with a heated glare. "No, Councillor Talis. You will fucking listen to me when I say you shouldn't be here after what you did to me. You said you were going to die, going to leave me, and yet you have the audacity to stand before me and plead?" You watch as Jayce's expression falls, his shoulders dropping as his head lowers apologetically, shuffling on the spot as if you kicked a puppy- your heart aches and you only become more frustrated.

"No Councillor you don't deserve to be moping around after the utter shit you pulled trying to play hero. I won't thank you, won't get on my knees and worship you- no. Do you understand how many nights I held myself sobbing to sleep, thought to see you- to hear you, desperate to feel you?" you are vibrating with anger, electricity flowing through your veins power by the passion in your heart.

"I do understand," Jayce's tone is firm, a warning to your heart for what is to come. You watch as he walks over and stands before you, his head tilting down and cocking to the side as he looks over your features distantly with dark eyes- you hate yourself for blushing.

"When I got stuck in the rune, I was forced to see your dead body before you consumed my every. waking. thought. It was your voice that called me back to you, that allowed me not to feel the pain in my leg, the ache in my ribs from starving. The thought of your touch against my body propelled by every step. I didn't stop- wouldn't stop until I knew you were safe... and you know what happened afterwards," Jayce allows a smirk to form across his features once seeing you subconsciously bite the inside of your cheek before taking a few steps back as you let out a breath you didn't know to be holding.

You walk after him as Jayce moves to leave against the desk. You stand in front of him before slapping him straight across the face. Jayce flexes his jaw, licking away the taste of iron building in his mouth. He looks back at you with wide, remorseful eyes and press lips- your blood boils, "I fucking hate your face."

"Mhmm?" Jayce hums, imploring you to continue getting your anger out. You take a step closer, standing in between his legs as you grip the lapels to his coat, knuckles turning white, "I hate that I'll always listen to everything you say and desire your touch. Hate that I still care about you, that I still want you. I hate myself! Hate my weak heart and yet I still let you have it- I fucking hate that I can't move on. Can't function a day without thinking to see you. I HATE YOU- hate that I love you, Jayce!" You punch and sob into his chest, utterly tried and longing for him to comfort you in a way no one else could as large warm palms hold you closely and tightly to his chest.

His beard tickles the top of your head, ruining your styled hair and yet you can't find it in yourself to care about anything. You feel sick with yourself for almost moaning when he kisses the side of your head and hums his apologies into your hear. You are embarrassed with yourself as you shake your face into the crook of his neck.

"I'll do anything for you to be mine again... and if you can't accept that just yet or even ever... I just want to be someone to you- just not strangers, never strangers... please," Jayce begs, squeeze your hips once feeling you starting to pull away but letting go once seeing your puffy eyes mirroring his own.

"I would say yes to everything now, Jayce. But I know that wouldn't be good for either of us knowing what happened last time," you explain as Jayce lowers his head into a nod, "I love you," he speaks softly.

"I know, I know," you respond, taking a deep breath before picking up your notes and learning material, "and thats why you are going to leave me alone for awhile... just so we both can sort though ourselves and come back with clearer minds." Jayce chuckles a little, "what part of me do you need a clearer image on, sweetheart?" he teases watching as you groan and huff your way to the door.

"Goodbye, Jayce," you twist open the doorknob only to feel a hand on your shoulder, holding your movements, "not goodbye- never again," Jayce says while looking into your eyes sternly. You raise your chin, "of course.... see you later then?" you try and say yet it comes out more like a question. Jayce smiles, your heart skips a beat, "better, see you later," he leans forwards to kiss you but ends up kiss air as you flee down the hallway smiling to yourself. Jayce sighs, watching as you turn down the hall and out of sight, back to square one.

─────── · ·

─ · · You feel bad that Evren paused the class as soon as you appeared, checking over your face and telling you to spin three times to ensure you were a-okay. The rest of the students fell into a hysteria and all you wanted was for his lesson to continue and for life to move on. "I'll beat of that councillor if you need me to miss!" "Would you ever consider going back?" "If he were ugly he wouldn't have gotten away with all of the shit he pulled!"

"Silence!" Evren ordered as everyone fell back into their seats and reopened their journals, you looked towards your friend with thanks, seating yourself beside him as you finished marking the papers before you, inputting the grades into your tables to help take your mind away. The class went by more quickly than you thought once zoning out, "how about a nice long lunch break this afternoon?" Evren asks, holding out your coat with a smile.

"Is coffee included?" you ask, offering a small smile watching as his grows, "of course it is."

─────── · ·

─ · · "So tell me, am I going to have to hire another assistant?" Evren asks, stirring the sugar in his coffee while watching your expression tick with annoyance. "I'm not jumping his bones as soon as I see him, at least not again after thinking him to be dead." Evren kicks his feet in laughter, the table jumping with the movement as you kick his shin, mumbling for your friend to, shut the hell up.

"I mean... I would jump his bones. Did you see that oxford shirt?" Evren groans, twirling his non-existent long hair as you roll your eyes. "And here I thought you had my back?"

"I do! I do, but after him threatening me... I think I questioned my sexuality-"

"WHAT?" it was your turn to yell as other cafe-goers looked between the two of you in question. You sunk down into your chair, embarrassed yet eyes demanding to know the answer as you took a sip of your coffee. Evren regretted his words not wanting to stress you out further but every time he would try and change conversation... you would only ask him again.

"Well... I think someone told him the wrong information about our relationship. I walked into my office not expecting anyone yet as I sorted through our schedule on the board and then next thing I knew a hand was being clamped down on my shoulder, the other on my hand in a tight shake..." Evren continued to recall the story of their interaction with Jayce who appeared to "size him up-" you scoffed.

"...and then he said to me," Evren lowers his tone watching as you shake your head at him, "...'I've killed gods and came back from the dead. If I hear that you've done anything against her- know that there isn't a place on this planet I won't be able to find you'."

"He said that?" you ask to confirm- Evren nods his head, chuckling, "He was so jealous saying it- I would have laughed if I wasn't so scared shitless."

"Oh god," you sigh out.

"Oh Jayce!" Evren mocks... whatever we're you going to do?

─────── · ·

─ · · It had been a few weeks since you had last seen Jayce. He had been sending flowers to your apartment with little notes attached that you kept in a box underneath your bed. Jayce also donated a very generous amount of money to your universities department and event sent service people to help fix your leaking sink and shower.

─ · · Jayce was very conscious about keeping physical space between the two of you just like you had asked. Even though it pained him listening to you talk in lecture as he stood at the back of the hall and when he stared down at the tattoo on his arm.

─ · · Everyday was a new challenge for you both not running to one another- it posed a new hurt that you both needed to feel mutually as you jotted down what you wanted out of your future the next time you both were to talk. Jayce on the other hand swirled your ring between his thumb and index finger, reminiscing on past dreams that if he waited just long enough could become his future.

─ · · Jayce always made sure to tell you when he was headed back to Piltover and for how long he would be gone since he was still needed at the Council as they rebuilt the cities and reestablished their trade routes and partners. As a parting gift, he offered you a shirt of his or left his jacket behind somewhere in your apartment when you were out a work and he visited his mother. Evren would also laugh when seeing you practically live out of the large jacket as you glared at him, daring him to say anything.

─ · · In one of his attached notes to a new pair of boots from the Zaun cobbler you liked he noted down Viktor's final words to you and worried for your letter back. You thankfully took the information well... or at least he couldn't see any tear stained pages or furiously written text, just thoughtfully exposed words in a mature understanding of the events. A part of you did wonder for a moment what a future with Viktor would have been like before realizing you both argued more than you agreed on things and the little moments you both shared were only possible because of meeting Jayce... Jayce, your heart heart longs for... and how could you refuse his affection when you wanted him just as much?

─────── · ·

─ · · A part of you was worried that your presence and relationship with Jayce was keeping him away from spending time with his mom but when you and Evren came back from the bar one night totally hammered, your drunken self was almost made sober by the shock of seeing Jayce open your front door for you once hearing you struggle with your keys.

"Had a good night there, sweetheart?" he asks in a loving and equally teasing tone as you fall into his chest, looking up at him with wide eyes. "Wow, you're really here! Hey handsome," you giggle, feeling as his back muscles flex as he holds you up in his arms. Evren mumbles something about heading into your kitchen but all your groggy mind can think about is pawing at Jayce.

You stand on your toes, trying to kiss him. Jayce remembers your words of wanting space and moves his head to the side, your soft lips fall upon his beard with a huff, "mean! I wanted to kisss you since I misss you~" you slur your words together, suddenly becoming interested in your glimmering heels in comparison to Jayce's dress shoes, "I love how much bigger you are to me, always so warm and huggable," you giggle, feeling giddy with yourself before stepping away and running after Evren, "Ev! you should really get a hug from Jayce! He gives the best hugs!"

Evren picks his head up, eyes squinting to the dim kitchen lights to look at you and Jayce who watches your every moment, hands extended and ready to catch you as you wobble on the tiled floors and towards the fridge in search of a snack, oooh apples!

You turn around, fridge slamming behind you in search of a cutting board and blade. Jayce's heart drops as he wraps his arms from behind you, gently taking the knife from you and doing the job for you.

You lean your head back, smiling softly at the man before you- touching his clenched jaw with fascination, "you trimmed your beard, it looks good."

"Thank you," Jayce smiles before presenting you the plate. Removing himself from your touch as he looks around to hide the knife from you. "Are you sober enough to get home? Or should I put a fire on in the living room?" Evren points at himself as Jayce nods, "yes, you."

"I've been sober the whole time to watch over that one," Evren points over to you as you wave cheerfully back, snacking on your apple slices and offer one to him in which he accepts. "None for me?" Jayce teases as you shake your head, "No," you state coldly. Evren laughs, "You ready to get to bed?" he asks you.

You look between Evren and Jayce, "Get your mind out of the gutter," he shoves your shoulder as you laugh, pushing Evren on his back as he pretends to stumble over into the wall, "if you start shoving me, I may just have to report you to the dean," he teases as you narrow your eyes. Jayce crosses his arms watching as you two rile one another up. "You wouldn't dare!" you point your finger in his face.

Evren puts his palms up and shrugs, "Hey, I know that you're leaving by the end of the year anyways- what difference would a few months make?" He asks looking over at Jayce expectedly.

Your gaze also turns towards Jayce, eyes softening as you fall into his side. Jayce holds your upright, thumb gently rubbing the side of your arm. "Are you saying I can't hold a grudge?" you ask, feeling as Jayce fixes your hair our of your face.

"Well, I was trying not to say it like that-" you scoff as Evren treats you with a deadpan stare looking between you and Jayce expectantly. "This means nothing right now," you say, wrapping Jayces arm around your front and playing with his fingers. Jayce stiffens staring down at you yet you look forwards- having a silent conversation with Evren who sighs, "okay, goodnight you two. I can trust you to make sure she makes it to the couch, right?"

"Of course," Jayce says, squeezing you against him for a moment as you smile and wave goodbye to your friend, listening to the door close behind him before stepping out of his touch. "Did you... really mean that?" Jayce asks, not expecting a confident answer since you still appear under the influence.

"No, just had to stick it to him," Jayce chuckles before saying something he hopes you will not remember in the morning, "I miss you, so much... I just want you back but I'll wait... forever if I have to but I'll always live with hope." You look at Jayce for a long moment before heading towards your bedroom. Jayce stands there in the kitchen wondering if you even heard him before hearing your voice whisper-shout down the hall.

"I miss you too... I just want to make sure its more than that first."

─────── · ·

─ · · In the morning you her Xiema in the kitchen, the local news radio ringing through the apartment as you groan and place a pillow over your head, I really have to start saying no to nights out, I'm getting to old for this feeling...

─ · · You startle at the sound of a knock at your door, but Xiema's in the kitchen? Jayce sighs from behind the door, gently opening the door but not looking in as he calls to you, "Morning sweetheart, my mom told me to come and wake you up. Evren wrote in saying you both were..." Jayce contains a laugh, ""sick" this morning." You mumble something incoherent that Jayce only picks up the end of, "...come here."

─ · · Jayce opens your door fully before walking over to your bedside and crouching down to look at your face as you smile at him lazily. Pulling your hand from underneath the covers to hold his cheek, feeling as he nuzzles into your touch- closing his eyes as he drinks in the moment not knowing when the next time would come... if ever, he feels his heart drop as you watch his expression become pained. Guilt gnaws at your chest as you roll yourself over underneath the covers before patting at the empty spot.

Jayce opens his eyes, eyebrow raised as if to confirm. You nod your head and extend your hands to welcome his warmth to your side, intertwining your legs together as you rest your head on his arm and press a kiss to his chin, "I love you," your murmur, not confident enough to look at him in your soberness with the confession.

Jayce gently tips your head back in his direction, his other hand massages your thigh as you hum at the feeling while looking into his eyes filled with nothing short of pure adoration, "I love you too, princess."

You swat his chest before trying to crawl away, "no! you don't get to say that!" you yell into your pillow, holding it to your face once feeling his heavy arms wrap around your torso, touch calling you back to him. "Say what? princess?" he teases, purposefully using his groggy morning voice while taking away your pillow- you kick your feet. "Stop it," you huff, hair sticking up in all positions as you sit up and glare at him watching as his arm flexes from behind his head as he looks up at you, "I love watching your cheeks flush for me."

Your jaw drops as you are at a loss for words, "Jayce-" you warn feeling your heart rapidly beating in your chest. "I love hearing my name from between your lips." You throw yourself out of bed, "and I love you in my clothes."

"This is too much now, Jayce!" you plead for mercy (though you love it) as you run out down the hall and towards the kitchen as Jayce chases after you. "Morning Xiema!" you chime watching as she turns around to see Jayce hugging you form behind with a large smile that matches her own, "Good morning to you both, now who I made a few options..."

─ · · You all sit at the kitchen table together, passing food and the coffee pot. Jayce places an arm over the back of your chair, playing with your hair as you look apologetically towards his mom who just smiles brightly seeing you both together again.

─────── · ·

─ · · A/N: thinkin' 2 more chapters? 🤔 or... idk, I love these two together so much but I don't want to over do it! 😅

─ · · JAYCE TALIS TAGLIST: @sseleniaa @sunshiines-stuff @kiromiix @todorokishoe24 @w2momo @m-arj-1 @reid490 @kaminocasey @chickenlvr123

[wisecura]

Sweeter (NSFW)

SatoSugu x f!Reader p.2 - 4k (all for the fuckin' smut)

summary: THE PWP FOR: entering high school only to be met with the two hottest strongest sorcerers of your generation was not something you were prepared for. so, what happens when they take a strange liking to their cute, sheltered underclassman?

an: man I'm getting some good practice for writing smut. I hope it's as coherent as my tired brain thought it was. loosely proofread, so please enjoy-

MINORS DNI AFTER HERE

warnings: do not read if you are sensitive to dubcon, or any kind of dark fic topics, small age gap (not even mentioned, they're past high school), arranged marriage, poly relationship, possessive undertones, manipulative undertones, manipulative, some gaslighting, Dom-Suguru, pussydrunk, creampie cleanup, breeding kink, virgin reader that somehow knows how to deepthroat a large cock (with minimal instructions-first try!), if they sound mean-i'm sorry, immature (sheltered) reader,

did you want to read it again?

The wedding was straight out of a fairytale, bathed in the rich, traditional colors that only added to the day’s dreamlike quality.

There he was—Satoru, the man you were about to call your husband.

Each time you glanced at him, dressed sharply, standing poised and perfect, it took your breath away. Marrying the most sought-after bachelor around, a man wrapped in prestige, wealth, and unmatched power and strength, felt crazy. The only word to describe it was surreal. 

Satoru gave your hand a reassuring squeeze as they announced your union. The kiss–though he'd kissed you plenty of times before, was now on the lips. A little deeper, holding the back of your head, keeping you close, preventing you from pulling away too quickly, leaving you breathless.  

During the reception, amidst the laughter and clinking glasses, you caught snippets of conversation from Satoru’s relatives, their voices low, gazing at you with a gleam in their eyes. One topic staying constant on their tongues: producing an heir.

It was a layer of expectation that loomed large, suddenly making your new reality even more daunting than you had anticipated.

As the night drew to a close and the estate began to quiet down, the weight of what was expected in your marriage truly settled in. Would Satoru really expect... that... so soon?

The thought of... consummation, when you hadn't even been dating, churned in your stomach as you hesitantly approached his, now your bedroom door. All your belongings were already here, making this vast place your new home, but this final step—something you felt completely unprepared for—loomed large.

With a shaky breath, you knocked gently on the door. The sound echoed slightly in the still hallway, perfectly in tune with the rapid beating of your heart. When the door finally swung open, Satoru loomed above you, his silhouette framed by the soft light spilling from the room, haloing him in an almost ethereal glow.

"You came," he remarked, a hint of surprise coloring his voice as if he hadn't fully expected you to follow through. You stood awkwardly a the door, feeling a little shy. Where you not supposed to-

"Come on," his hand reaching out to grasp your arm, pulling you into the room with a gentle tug that caused you to stumble slightly. As you regained your balance, your eyes quickly scanned the room.

It was strikingly sterile, devoid of personal touches, which made it feel less like a bedroom and more like an impersonal guest room. You assumed your belongings had already been neatly stored away in the closet. However, what really caught your attention wasn’t the room’s lack of personality but rather what—or rather, who—was on the large king-sized bed.

Suguru was there, lounging casually as if his presence in this intimate setting was the most natural thing in the world, the sight throwing you off.

"S-Suguru?" Your voice wavered, tinged with disbelief. He hadn't been at the wedding celebrations, and it had been months since you'd last seen him. Overcome with a mix of surprise and relief, you quickly crossed the room and threw yourself onto his lap, wrapping him in a tight hug.

"Even I didn't get this reaction," Satoru muttered from behind you, his tone a mix of amusement and mock offense.

Suguru's response was a deep, resonant chuckle that vibrated through his chest, warming you with its familiarity. The position was intimate, but you'd sat on their laps plenty of times before.

Obviously nothing would happen tonight if he was here. 

"It's been a while, pretty girl," Suguru murmured, his hand gently caressing your face and tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. You leaned into his touch, realizing just how much you had missed his presence.

"Heard you got married while I was gone," his voice low and teasing.

You laughed, the sound muffled against his chest as you nuzzled closer, reveling in the comfort his presence provided. The familiarity of his scent and the steady beat of his heart soothing your nerves. 

"Ok, now I'm starting to get jealous," Satoru's voice came from behind you. You heard his footsteps as he approached, and you felt the bed give way under his weight, his body pressed against your back, effectively sandwiching you between the two of them.

Suguru's hand reached over your shoulder, affectionately patting Satoru on the head.

"Now why would you be jealous? She's your wife," Suguru teased, his voice light but carrying a note that stirred a chill down your spine. You were still not quite accustomed to being called someone's wife.

"And here you are, all cuddled up next to her," Satoru huffed, his tone playful yet pointed.

"You promised we'd share, Satoru. Don't get greedy now," he added, reminding Satoru of some unspoken agreement that seemed to include you in their plans. You felt nervous as you let outa small breath.

"Promised you'd share?" The words slipped out, small, tinged with disbelief as you craned your neck to look up at Suguru. Almost instantly, you felt Satoru's presence push behind you. His body pressed closer, his breath warm on your neck, and his arms cinched tighter around your waist—a clear sign he didn't appreciate being ignored–even for a moment.

"Of course, sweet girl. We couldn’t possibly let you end up with just anyone," Suguru replied, his tone casual but obviously carrying an coolness that had you momentarily stunned.

"But what do you mean by 'share'?" The question hung awkwardly in the air, your brain not fully wrapping around his meaning. 

Suguru's response was matter-of-fact. "Well, technically, you can only marry one of us, right?"

Before you could digest this, Satoru piped up from behind, his voice laced with a mix of jest and arrogance, "And I’m the heir to the Gojo family, so obviously I’m the better choice."

This boast earned him a scathing look from Suguru, who, despite the tension, continued to stroke your head in a seemingly soothing manner. Yet, the gesture now felt more like a claim being staked, adding to the surreal-ness of the situation. 

"You've always been part of us, yeah? Every moment we've spent together built towards this. It's natural for us to be together. All ours."

Your mind reeled, struggling to piece together the implications of his words. "I... but I thought we were just friends. What do you mean I've always been yours?"

Satoru's breath was warm against your ear. "Think about it. Who's always been there for you? Who have you spent all your time with? It's always been us, hasn't it? It's not just friendship. It's more than that, and deep down, you know it," he whispered, each word designed to reshape your understanding of the past few years you shared together. Willing you to understand.

"But... How? A marriage is supposed to be between two people–a man and a woman–not... not this," you protested weakly, trying to grasp the reality they presented against everything you thought you knew–everything your clan has taught you.

Suguru laughed softly, a sound that used to comfort you but now seemed to carry a darker undertone. "Who says it has to be just two people?–man, woman, same difference. What we have? It's special, unique. We don't need to follow society's rules. We make our own rules because we're meant to be together. All of us."

Satoru nodded, adding, "Exactly. Why limit ourselves? You're ours, and we're yours. We've shared everything, haven't we? Our food, our time, our secrets. Sharing our lives through marriage is just the next step."

Your face flushed red, a mix of confusion and realization washing over you. "I... I do love you both," you admitted, your voice trembling. "You are the most important people in my life. I can't imagine being without you." Despite the situation, your heart knew these feelings were genuine. You've obviously never confessed, and this just felt so new. So nerve wracking.

Suguru's expression softened, his earlier laughter fading into a more sincere, tender smile. "And we love you, too. More than you can imagine," he assured you, hands collecting your hair together. "We've never planned to let you go, not now, not ever."

As Satoru buried his face deeper into your neck, you felt the warmth of his breath and the gentle kisses he planted along your skin. Each kiss was soft, almost reverent, as he murmured right into your ear, “No matter what happens, even if you wanted to leave, we wouldn’t let you. You're part of us, and that’s how it’s going to stay. We’re in this together, forever.”

His words wrapped around you like a warm blanket, making your heart swell with happiness. It felt right, being here with them, more right than anything else ever had. They were no longer just dreams or fantasies—they were real, tangible–and  you finally saw them for what they were. 

Yours. 

Suguru’s hands joined Satoru’s at your waist, tightening his hold just as his gaze pierced into yours. His question was direct, catching you by surprise. "Have you been with anyone before?" His eyes seemed to search for any hint of deceit in your response.

You shook your head, knowing exactly what he meant, your cheeks warming with embarrassment. "No, I’ve.... never been with anyone. I don’t even really know how all this is supposed to work," you admitted, feeling your heart race under his intense attention.

Sensing your nervousness, Suguru suddenly took charge, his voice firm as he instructed Satoru to give you some space. "Scoot back a bit, let's not crowd her," he said, a playful note creeping in his voice.  Satoru moved back reluctantly, mumbling a mix of playful huffs and complaints. “She’s my wife,”

"It'll start with kissing," Suguru ignores him, instead focusing his attention on you. "Already done that," you chimed in quickly, remembering the kisses shared with Satoru, the one from the alter-really only wanting to be helpful.

You didn't expect Suguru’s poutily looking away. A hint of annoyance flickering across his face. Sure, he expected the two of you to already kiss when you were married but…. "Satoru’s already kissed you…." he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

Curious, you asked, "What’s wrong?" Satoru couldn't help but chime in with a grin, "Suguru’s jus’ jealous." Your face turned a deeper shade of red at the tease, but before you could respond, Suguru pulled you into him, his lips meeting yours in a deep, all-consuming kiss. It was intense and filled with an urgency that seemed to be fueled by Satoru’s taunting.

His hands trial down your body, squeezing and pulling you closer, exploring you completely. You're sat in his lap, as he forces your hips to grind into his, an obvious bulge pressing against you, his eyes damn near black–blown out, watching you closely as you break for air.

Looking down, his palms massage your thighs, hitching your nightgown up higher, fingers finally reaching your covered slit as you let out a small whimper from the contact. 

You felt all eyes on you, and couldn't help the nerves that coiled in your stomach–even now with you splayed across his lap on display, hungry eyes watching you–you still felt embarrassed. You heard shuffling from behind you, turning your head to meet Satoru-but before you could, Suguru’s hands grabbed your chin to face him. 

“Eyes on me, Doll.” The breathy puff of air you let out was all instinctual–the way he so easily commanded your attention with his pet names. And the tremble in your rolling hips forced his eyes back down, trailing his hand across your chest, your stomach, and finally down to the soaked fabric. “Satoru, I think your wife likes me more.” 

Your hands grip onto the fabric of his shirt, and you so desperately want to look back when you hear the slick sounds from behind you, Satoru’s annoyed sulky puff at Suguru’s comment sounding out around the loud, wet slaps. 

“hah–gimme a minute with her, and let's see who’s talkin’–” But once again Suguru ignores him, his fingers teetering the border of your panties, obviously distracted, before finally sliding a finger along your drenched folds. He lets out a soft chuckle, burying himself in deeper, a sickening squelch reverberating the room, now matching the pace of the sound behind you. So filthy, and you really didn't know any better-

You can't help the low moan you let out, or the way your nails dig into his shoulders, hips bucking into his thick fingers, seeking a release you didn't expect. And just as sudden, he withdrawals his fingers, bringing them up to your face, as if he were scolding you. 

“Look at how filthy you are.” he coos out, voice husky. “So cute.” You’re beet red. 

"Please, tell me you’re gonna let me have a taste.” Satoru's voice sounds out behind you, begging, more desperate than you've ever heard from him before. “C’mon Suguru, please.”

You could hear the rasp in his words, laced with heavy desire, as you watched Suguru shocked, no- stunned at the request. You couldn't see his face, but the audible fapping noises behind you were enough to give you a picture. 

“What do you think, doll? Should we let him taste?” His voice dripping in amusement, as you shake your head, mouth agape, “t-that’s nasty, Sugur–” before you could finish your protest, Suguru leans over you, pulling Satoru in by his neck, pushing you down on the bed in the process.

Now hovering above you, slotted between your legs–his hardened length firmly pressed against your center. You finally have a clear image of them both, as you see his fingers being shoved into Satoru’s mouth, grip choking him, and the lewd image of his fingers fucking into his mouth would stay ingrained into your mind for weeks after–you've never seen him so rough before.

And what shocked you moreso was when Satoru practically moaned at the contact of your taste on his tongue, lolling out, leaning into his aggressive hold as if it were the most natural thing ever. He greedily laps Suguru's fingers, fingers gripping Suguru’s wrist close, eyes rolling back, a sinful expression gracing his face.

You have a clear view of just what Satoru was up to behind your back, his massive hand actively stroking his girthy cock, now inches from your face. You can't keep your eyes off of it as you study it religiously. You've never seen one before. Was that thing supposed to….fit inside you? ]

Suguru chuckled lowly at your reactions, gaze locked onto you before pulling his fingers from Satoru’s mouth, releasing his hold on his neck. 

“He’s such a nasty boy, don't you think? Getting all hard from his wife being felt up like that.” Your eyes find Suguru’s again as he watches you closely. You can't respond-and how were you supposed to with two very large, very big men standing over you?

“You nervous?” you nod before you could stop yourself. Without hesitating, he pushes himself into you, spurring a small whimper from you, “It’s okay baby. We’ll take good care of you.” His fingers find your clit through your panties, as he continues grinding into you, each touch bringing you closer and closer to the edge, mind going fuzzy as you watch Satoru stroking himself. 

His eyes meet yours, glazing over, pupils matching Suguru’s, and they both sense your impending orgasm growing with every passing second, your body responding to Suguru’s touch despite your initial hesitation. "You're so wet already, doll," he murmurs, his breath hot against your neck. “Feels so tight ‘n warm.” 

Satoru chuckles, licking his lips as he watches Suguru's movements, leaning down to hover over your face, “Wanna taste?” And before you could answer, he’s leaning into a deep kiss, tongue slipping past your lips, and you can taste your own slick on him.

Breaking away, his fingers make their way to your mouth, eyes watching you, burning you. He moves his thumb away from your mouth, replacing it with the tip of his cock instead, tracing your lips with it. "Open up."

You feel a shiver run down your spine as you hesitantly part your lips, allowing Satoru to slide his cock inside. Your eyes widen as you taste him for the first time, a salty white thickness coating your tongue. Suguru takes this opportunity to slide a finger inside you once again, curling it just right to hit that spot. 

You moan involuntarily, your hips bucking against his hand, allowing Satoru's cock in deeper, almost choking on it. Satoru smirks, his hands moving to grip your head, guiding your movements. He loves the way you look with his cock in your mouth, so innocent yet so sinful. He thrusts deeper, his hips rocking against your face, as you continue slurping on his thick cock. “Eh eh, no teeth baby, hollow out that mouth, jus like that, goooood girl–”

“Cmon now Satoru, she can't breathe.” Suguru reprimands lightly, your head going dizzy at the lack of oxygen. 

“You sure you're a virgin?” Satoru moaned out, “sure doesn't seem like it.” 

“Easy now, Satoru, don't make me tie you down.” You barely catch the words, Satoru filling your mouth as drool pooled around the edges. You’d complain, but the moans coming from Satoru were godly, and the feel of Suguru grinding into your clothed cunt had easily clouded your thoughts.  

“So good fer me,” Satoru praises, pulling his cock from your mouth, leaving behind a trail of saliva. They both are mesmerized at how your body takes them both so well, each stimulation eliciting such a vulgar reaction from you. You already looked fucked out and they haven’t even started. 

Suguru pulls your panties down now, fixated on your weeping bare cunt, drawing satorus attention. “Sucha pretty little hole.” His fingers trail the edges, before dipping inside, and you moan at the intrusion.

“Let's keep this mouth busy, yeah?” and before you know it, Satoru’s cock is back on your tongue, thrusting in deep, as you gag. The sight of your pretty mouth struggling to accommodate him only spurs him on, and you do your best to relax your jaw–only hoping that you were doing it right. 

Suguru's eyes flicker with a primal hunger as he watches you struggle to adjust to Satoru's cock. He withdraws his fingers from you slowly, leaving you aching and empty for just a moment before he replaces them with something much larger.

You feel his cock press against your entrance, causing your eyes to widen, not sure he’d be able to even fit there. Satoru chuckles at your reaction, gripping your head firmer as he thrusts deeper into your mouth. Suguru leans down, his lips grazing your ear. "Relax," he whispers soothingly. "It'll be easier if you just relax, baby."

You nod, trying to settle down, trusting him completely, he slowly pushes himself inside you, his thick length stretching you wide open. You whimper around Satoru's cock as Suguru fills you up, pleasure and pain melding together in a heady mix, the stretch almost unbearable.

Satoru groans at the feel of your throats vibrations, as Suguru gives you a moment to adjust before he starts moving, his hips rocking into yours in a slow, steady rhythm. Satoru matches his pace, thrusting in sync with Suguru. You feel completely filled, sandwiched between them both. They take turns praising you, their voices muffled by their own pleasure-filled moans.

"Fuck, you feel incredible."  Suguru's husky voice echoes through your mind as he picks up the pace, thrusting deeper inside your sloppy pussy. "Such a good girl, taking both of us so well." Satoru adds, his breathing labored as he watches Suguru claim you, eagerly awaiting his turn.

Their movements become more erratic as they lose themselves in their lust, their hands roaming over your body possessively. 

Suguru's thumb circles your clit faster, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through you, as Satoru thrusts harder into your mouth, his cock hitting the back of your throat with each movement. You moan around him again, the vibrations sending shockwaves through him, causing his hips to stutter. They continue to worship your body, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge. “Should I cum in this pussy?” Suguru says, staring down at you through hooded eyes.

His words send a bolt of pleasure straight to your pussy, your walls contracting around him involuntarily. His grip on your hips tightens, his thrusts becoming rougher as he groans, "Fuck yes, I'm going to cum inside you, this pussy will be dripping, ‘m gonna give you so much." His eyes bore into yours, filled with a possessive hunger that makes you squirm. Satoru groans at the sight, his cock pulsing against your tongue.

Satoru pulls out of your mouth momentarily to trail wet kisses down your neck, leaving your mouth open for you to sputter out a string of curses and moans. He circles your nipple with his tongue, making you arch into him as Suguru continues to fuck you mercilessly. “Fuck, she's so responsive.” His own climax building at the sight of your impending orgasm. 

Suguru grunts in approval at your response, his hips driving harder into yours, his cock stretching you deliciously. You can hear the offensive wet sounds of their movements filling the room, making your core clench even more around Suguru's length. "you're so goddamn tight,"

Suguru curses, his control slipping. Satoru's lips leave your nipple to trail kisses along your collarbone, his breath hot against your skin. "You're going to cum for us, aren't you, sweetheart?" He asks huskily, his hand wandering down to grip your thigh, holding it aside so he could see better. 

"Mhmph," you moan, nodding vigorously, your body trembling under the dual assault. Suguru grunts, his pace relentless as he feels your pussy begin to spasm around him. "That's it, take it all, you're doing so well," Satoru praises, his voice rough, strained with arousal. Suguru's movements become erratic as he chases his own climax, his thrusts becoming rougher, deeper, more primal.

"Fuckfuck–yes, cum on this dick,” He curses as his orgasm hits, his cock pulsing inside you as he releases hot streams of cum. Your walls tighten around him, your orgasm crashing through you like a tidal wave, making you buck wildly against him.

Suguru growls as he feels you clamp around him, cursing as he sinks his fingers into you tighter. Satoru watches intently, his hand gripping the base of his cock tightly to prevent himself from cumming too soon. Suguru's movements slow, but he doesn’t pull out, letting his cum fill you as he catches his breath. "Holy shit. You were holdin' out on us." 

Suguru presses soft kisses against your neck while he waits for you to come down from your high. Suguru withdraws from you slowly, his cum trickling down onto the king bed below you. Before you can catch your breath, Satoru takes his place, his cock pressing against your sensitive entrance. "My turn now," and before you can protest, he thrusts in deep as Suguru leans in to capture your pathetic whimpers with a filthy kiss.

Satoru's fingers dig into your hips as he thrusts deeper into you–the stretch so familiar but so different, his movements calculated to drive you wild. "So wet,so sososo so good," he groans, his pace increasing steadily. He loves the feeling of you around him, the way your walls clench with each stroke, recovering from your orgasm-pulsating just right-so hotsohotsohot, Suguru’s cum working as a lube for your poor abused hole–no doubt overstimulated. Suguru watches from the side, stroking himself lazily as he watches Satoru claim you, his own lust rekindled. They both lose themselves in the moment, completely consumed by their desire for you. 

"You're going to take every drop," Satoru grunts, his own orgasm building. Your eyes roll back as you feel your climax approaching at a scary speed, your body begging for release as he hits all the right spots.

When you finally cum, your pussy milks him greedily, pulling out every last drop of cum. They both groan in pleasure, the sight of you too good to pass up, as Satoru pulls out, he chuckles at your spent form, the sight of his cum dripping from you making him hard again already. Collapsing on the bed next to you, spent and satisfied.

He reaches out to trace patterns over your sensitive folds, playing with the mess they've made together, slick pooling at his fingertips. "Look at what a good little slut you are, stuffed by two men's seeds," he teases, leaning in to press a tender kiss against your thigh before looking over at Suguru with a mischievous glint in his eye. "You think she can handle us both filling her up?"

Suguru looks over at you with a hungry gaze, he runs a hand through his dark hair, eyes trailing down to where their cum pools between your legs. "We'll have to see," he says, a wicked smile playing on his lips. He moves closer, positioning himself beside Satoru so that they're both looming over you, staring down at your spent form. "But first, Be a good boy, Satoru, and clean her up." 

His hand on the back of his head, but you don't think he needed much convincing. Satoru leans forward without hesitation, his tongue licking up the mixture of their cum from your inner thighs- drawing patterns, his movements slow and deliberate, savoring the taste of both of their essences mixed with your sweetness. You whimper at the sensation, your body still sensitive and now overstimulated.

Suguru watches, his hand gripping Satoru's hair tightly, his own cock stirring again at the sight of Satoru’s tongue dipping into your pussy, tonguing the white mixture, with a nasty blissed out expression.

"Spread wider for him, doll," he instructs, his voice husky with desire. You obey automatically despite you craving the need to shut them tightly, your legs trembling as Satoru's tongue delves deeper, arms pinning your bucking hips down to the bed. 

You moan out loudly, your body writhing beneath him, as Satoru licks and sucks at your swollen clit, relishing in your responsiveness, swallowing down every drop that your pussy gave him.

Suguru reaches over him to fondle your breasts, pinching your nipples gently as he watches Satoru work his magic on your sensitive nerves. "Such a good girl," he praises, his free hand stroking his hardening cock again. "So responsive, so eager for more. You really ready for round two?"

Satoru smirks up at Suguru, licking cum from his lips before leaning up to meet his lips in a filthy kiss. You watch in a haze of pleasure as they share your taste, their tongues tangling together hungrily. When they finally pull apart, Suguru's eyes are dark with desire as he looks down at you. 

"I think she's ready for whatever we want to give her," 

did you want to read it again?

come home, this one has a second home

[nerdygirlramblings]

implied poly!141 x fem!reader

pure fluff, abrupt ending

They were smitten the first time they saw you, some new civvie working in the admin building. Price saw you first and was taken in by your open, friendly smile. You were sweet every time he had to come in, always saying hello and asking how his day was. He couldn't help but talk about you to his boys.

Gaz was next, finding reasons to drop by with a question for your boss or "remembering" paperwork he had already brought to someone else. He always seemed to pop in when your boss was out, though, so he had to talk to you about it instead.

Soap noticed how often Gaz was slipping off to your building. He knew Price was smitten; the man had all but admitted as much. But it seemed Gaz wanted to keep his interest in you a secret. Soap never could let a secret go, so he followed Gaz, found him flirting with you, watched you give him soft touches and shy smiles. He couldn't remember the last time Gaz had lost his sharp edges.

He told Ghost what he saw, and the two began watching you.

They saw how you always dropped by medical on Wednesdays with a bakery box in hand. They learned Tuesdays - the first full day of training rookies had - was always busier for medical, so you brought them a pick-me-up after a hard day. They watched you stop and chat with every invisible employee: groundskeepers, maintenance, custodial staff. You made it a point to acknowledge those who were often overlooked. Soap and Ghost didn't interact with you personally, but they fell for your kind heart nonetheless.

It slowly became clear that there were others as enamoured with you as they all were. Flowers on your desk they knew Price didn't send. Lunch delivered when you'd clearly brought your own. A few other officers who stood a little too close and for whom your smile was tight rather than inviting.

They tell all this to Price and Gaz who bring it up with you in their own way.

Gaz asks about the bouquet behind your desk. You tell him they were a gift, and when your tone seems strained, he presses for more, finds out they came from an officer who didn't believe you meant no. Price stops in after a lunch delivery and jokes about you having two meals. Turns out you're allergic to what was delivered (someone obviously did not do their homework), but it was a favorite of the same soldier who sent the flowers.

This man was making their bird uncomfortable, and they wouldn't stand for it.

Slowly, things take a turn for this poor sod whose main flaw was an overbearing interest in you. His reports come back flagged for missing information, and he gets reamed out by his superior. (Gaz hacked the system and deleted things. Don't worry, he fixed it later, after the damage was done.) His flowers get delivered to married women, which raises an HR concern. (Ghost offered the florist double the cost of each bouquet to send them to a list of other people. He told them you didn't want people jealous of your relationship with the soldier and to spread the joy.) He finds himself called to the head of medical about the legal issue of accidental poisoning. (Price dropped by with your ill-delivered lunch to chat with the head and accidentally let it slip how this delicious food was sent to a civilian employee deathly allergic to some of the ingredients.)

The boys could have gotten dirty and taken matters into their own hands, but they wanted to be able to keep themselves clear of the fallout. To be there for you in the aftermath.

It took about two weeks, but eventually the officer was demoted and transferred. Word gets around the other soldiers how the 141 was protecting its own. They staked their claim on you before you ever realized it.

Two days after the incident, Price shows up with a vase of your favorite flowers (courtesy of Soap's intel). Later that day, Gaz invites you to your favorite restaurant (thanks to Ghost's observations) for dinner, "no strings, doll, just a nice meal." You show up in a cute but classy dress to find the whole task force - including Soap and Ghost whom you've never even met before - seated and waiting on you.

They'd decided to let you know where things stood before some other idiot tried taking what was theirs.

Inspired by the "To the pain" scene at the end of The Princess Bride: "That is what to the pain means. It means I leave you in anguish, wallowing in freakish misery forever."

[starlightxsvt]

Guilty | sibilance. 3

synopsis ➳ ❝ after months you see Wonwoo at the annual party. lines are crossed, accusations are made and just after, your colleague voices out a crazy proposition.❞

pairing ➳ lawyer fem!reader x rich badboy!wonwoo (ft. Jeonghan)

genre ➳ angst, smut, drama

word count ➳ 4.5k + 900(patreon bonus)

warnings ➳ cursing, toxic ex vibes, slight love triangle, rough sex, unprotected intercourse, dom!wonwoo, big dic!wonwoo, messy makeouts, dirty talk, degradation, cream pie, no aftercare, so much drama.

previous chapter

The weather is misty today. Winter has passed quickly over the past three months, and now spring is starting to ease the chill from the air. Yet, you still feel just as tired, if not more so than before.

A break is an imminent necessity, but you will not be getting any until you wrap up your current case. It is a huge one, viral on social media due to its scandalized nature, but most importantly, your client and his opponent are extremely exhausting. It is like managing toddlers, and you are ever so grateful that Jeonghan is also handling this case with you.

It is a particularly sensitive case because your client is the owner of the biggest textile company in the country and also, Chairman Jeon’s good friend, Mr Kim. Last month, he married his daughter off to another huge chaebol family in the country and the issue began with the catering service for the wedding, owned by Mr Kim’s ex business partner and current rival. The guests all got food poisoning right in the middle of the ceremony and the bride had an allergic reaction, throwing Mr Kim into a fit as he claimed it to be an attempted murder to get revenge on him.

Things have been chaotic since then, keeping you on your toes.

Despite being snowed under your work, a particular rumour floating around the Jeon Corporation caught your attention and has been a constant form of distraction ever since you heard it.

Word on the street says that Chairman Jeon is set to announce a new CEO at the annual party of the company taking place this weekend and apparently, one candidate is his own son and the other is a completely new hire. Six months ago you would have laughed at the rumour of the Chairman’s son, Wonwoo— who you know personally, taking over the company but now, you can say nothing for sure.

It has been nearly three months since you last saw him, partly due to your hectic schedule and also due to the lack of work at Jeon Corporation. Since you have not visited the headquarters recently, you have not been tortured by the sight of that infuriating man but you have to admit that thoughts of Wonwoo have been plaguing your mind. They pop up randomly in your head and you hate your mind for betraying you like that.

You are supposed to move on. And it was not even an actual relationship so why are you still thinking about that stupid, spoiled brat?

“Your drink.” Jeonghan places your coffee on your desk, snapping you out of your reverie. You turn from the window in front of which you were standing and walk back to your desk, taking a sip of your latte with a grateful smile. “I still cannot believe you got my order exactly right on the first try. Thank you.”

It is truly insane. A month ago one day, as your work started piling up, you stopped taking your usual coffee breaks and instead asked Jeonghan to grab you something, forgetting to mention how you like your coffee. Unbelievably, when you tried what he brought for you, you were astounded to the point of silence.

Turns out you and his sister have very similar tastes so he got lucky with that.

“You are most welcome.” Jeonghan smiles, throwing a cheeky wink at you. “Just knock on my door if you need anything.”

“Will do.” You pause for a moment. Just as he is about to close the door behind him, you call, “Jeonghan, you’re attending the party this weekend, right?”

The man steps back into your office. “Yes. Actually, I am glad that you brought it up.”

You wait, looking at him expectantly.

“Would you be my date for the evening?” 

You smile. “Gladly.” Everyone you know already has a plus one so you were dreading showing up alone. As always, Jeonghan has come to the rescue.

“I am honoured.” Jeonghan smiles, his eyes crinkling beautifully. “I was worried Mr. Pi would ask me to be his plus one. I mean it was either going to be you or me.”

You snort a burst of laughter. “I know, right? But he will not get off our backs when he figures out we’re coming together. You know he has that weird obsession of pairing us together like a couple.”

Suddenly, Jeonghan’s face grows serious.“That isn’t a bad idea, you know.”

A soft sigh falls from your lips.

“You should move on from him. It has been long enough, don’t you think?”

“I am over him,” you reply, almost defensively. “Listen, if there is one thing I have learned, it is, not to date where you work.”

Jeonghan chuckles softly. “Office romance is quite fun you know.”

You arch a teasing brow. “Someone seems experienced.’’ The man smiles secretively before stepping closer to the door, pulling it open with one hand. “Just giving you a heads up, you haven’t seen me in a suit yet.”

“I see you in a suit every day, Jeonghan.” You sass.

The man rolls his eyes. “You know what I mean. A proper three piece suit. A tuxedo. Prepare to have your mind blown.” He shakes his palms for dramatic effect.

You sip your coffee. “Mhm, stop pestering me now. I have so much work to do.”

The man flashes a smile before pulling the door closed.

You still have a grin lingering on your lips as you open your files and start skimming through them.

—

On Saturday night, Jeonghan is in front of your house sharply at 7.

You rush to the door as you receive his text, putting on your heels and scrambling to get your purse and phone. 

You are going to be late but hey, at least you will be fashionably late. 

Buying this emerald green dress impulsively six months ago was not a bad idea, you now realize, because you love how the dress fits you. With your hair and makeup done, it is almost a completely new you and you may have taken too long admiring yourself in the mirror.

Jeonghan’s jaw goes slack as he watches you step out of your apartment building. His expression makes you laugh and you cannot help but shake your head at his overexaggeration. 

“Wow,” his eyes move up and down as he steps closer to you. “Fucking hell. You look absolutely stunning.”

Shyly you avoid his gaze. “Thank you. You’re not too bad yourself.” You gesture towards him, waving your hand up and down his height. The coffee-coloured three piece suit is truly a fabulous compliment to his brushed back blond hair.

The man shakes his head. “You were the one who should have given me a heads up. I have the prettiest woman in the party as my date.”

This man sure has a way with his words.

“I can see why you are such a successful lawyer, Mr. Yoon.” You saunter past him. “Let’s get going now. We’re already late.”

“Yes madam,” he rushes past you to hold open the car door, making you smile.

—

The venue is crowded when you arrive.

It takes no more than five minutes for your colleagues to spot the two of you and five more minutes later, you are graced by Mr. Pi’s holy presence. He gushes over the two of you and when Jeonghan escapes the conversation by saying he’ll get drinks for you, Mr. Pi corners you.

“Are you sure you are not dating our dear Mr. Yoon?”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. “No, Mr. Pi. Come on now, let it be.”

He hums and then nods thoughtfully, pushing his sunglasses up his nose bridge.

Who knows why he is wearing that indoors and at night.

“I understand,” the man rubs his chin slowly and seriously as if he is pondering the most critical issue of life. “Our chairman’s handsome son left a lasting impression on you.”

Even before you realise it, a soft, almost wistful sigh escapes your lips. “Can we not talk about him? At least not here?”

Mr. Pi looks at you from above his sunglasses, “This is the place to talk about him. Tonight people will talk about him.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’ll see.”

Wait, what?

“Mr. Pi—” You reach out for him but he spots an old colleague and walks over to him, ignoring you with a dismissive wave of his hand.

Right then, Jeonghan is back with two flutes of champagne in his hands. You snatch one from him and immediately gulp it down. Then, you narrow your eyes at him. “Nice job, jerk. Leaving me alone with him.”

The man cheekily shrugs his shoulder, unable to fight off the knowing smile blooming on his lips. Grinning at you, he sips his champagne. 

With a shake of your head, you go around the room accompanied by Jeonghan, mingling with old and new faces. The stage is being set up for the upcoming speeches by the top executives of the company. The closing speech will, of course, be Chairman Jeon’s. The grand hall room increasingly grows crowded as you finish two more glasses of champagne while socialising, everyone eager to hear the big announcement.

“I think you have drunk enough for now.” Jeonghan blocks your hand when you reach for the fourth glass as a waiter passes by. You pout, “Oh come on. Socialising takes a lot of energy. I cannot talk to these boring people about boring things on a Saturday night while being sober.”

A scoff of amusement comes from him and he opens his mouth to say something but his vision shifts, focusing on something behind you. His expression changes and you turn your head back to see what he is looking at.

Not what. Who.

Wonwoo stands a few feet behind you, looking unfairly stunning. The contrast of his black blazer against his crisp white shirt is stunning and with sharp features and his hair brushed back, he is a scene stealer.

He, however, seems not to attract attention as he remains on the edge of the hall room, near where the lights are dimmer. As your eyes meet his and the raging beat of your heart loudens, he holds your gaze before taking quick steps towards you.

Within a couple of seconds, he is right in front of you. 

“We need to talk. Privately.” He says, his posture slightly rigid, and he looks around the room as if making sure no one sees him.

You don’t have much time to process his words as he ushers you away by tugging your wrist. You look back at Jeonghan almost helplessly and the man gives you an understanding nod. “I’ll be here, don’t worry.”

You are quickly rushed out of the grand room and pulled down a hallway at the end of which there are a few private rooms. Wonwoo pulls you inside and shuts the door behind you.

The room is messy and if you are not wrong, it seems to be his dressing room.

In your mind, an equation starts to form as you take everything in.

Finally, your eyes land on Wonwoo after scouring the room and you find him looking at you attentively.

There is a hard lump in your throat that you have to swallow.

“Hi.” The man says quietly, almost shyly.

“It has been a while,” you murmur as a greeting, trying to keep your voice as flat as possible. 

“Way too long,” he replies, his voice much quieter as he enunciates each word slowly and carefully. You wonder if it is your mind playing tricks on you or if the depth of his eyes just increased tenfold.

Whatever, you cannot let yourself get caught up in this again. The tension in the air is thickening by the second.

“Why did you bring me here?” You avoid his eyes, your gaze settling on the skin peeking from underneath his shirt as the two buttons are undone.

“Right.” Wonwoo blinks as if breaking out of a trance. “I wanted to tell you something. I mean…it will be announced later but I thought you out of all people should hear it from me first.”

The way he speaks, his eyes skirting around, his hands fidgety tells you what the news is. You voice it out for him. “You are taking over the company?”

You see his pupils widen. After a moment's pause, he says. “Yes.”

Hm. He is dressed too fancy to attend as a mere employee anyway.

You are proud of him for sure. He has grown as a person since you last saw him. But at the same time, there is dread in the pit of your stomach. With him now taking over the company, there is no escaping him. You will be seeing him, whether you like it or not. 

“Congratulations.” You hum. “I appreciate you informing me separately but it wasn’t necessary. We don’t have any personal contact. I am just another employee, Jeon…Chairman Wonwoo.”

Wonwoo looks at you with surprise and you wonder if it is your icy demeanour that makes him frown.

“Still…I have to thank you. You had a huge part to play in getting me here.”

Oh really?

For a brief moment, your mind flashes back to earlier this year when you were seeing each other. The late night talks about his future with the company. You find yourself wondering how he managed to earn his father’s trust so quickly because you remember him telling you his father would never let him take over. Due to his unrefined behaviors, of course. But it seems that he has grown out of them which is good for him.

“I better get going. Jeonghan is probably waiting for me.” You step towards the door but Wonwoo grabs your upper arm, pulling you back with a gentle tug.

“Do you not miss me? Not one bit?” His voice is so thick with emotion that it feels foreign to you. Like his, your throat closes up, and you hate how a few words from him make tears burn in the back of your eyes.

“It doesn’t matter. Just let—”

“It does! There is something else I have to tell you.”

“I don’t care!” You yell, jerking yourself free from his hold. “You can not act all familiar after so long. We are not like that anymore! Why can’t you understand?”

In the semi darkness of the room, you see his eyes glimmer. 

The very next moment he is kissing you.

And you are kissing him back. 

Just for tonight, you tell yourself as your resolve slips. You are going to give in just tonight. Just one last time. You truly don’t have it in you to turn away from him now, from his warmth, touch, and embrace when this is what you have been longing for the past few months.

Maneuvering your body with his, he pins you against the wall, trapping you with ease. And tonight, there is nowhere you want to escape to.

"I missed you." He whispers like a mantra, devouring your mouth like a starved man. He trails kisses down your jaw as his hands remove your straps from your shoulders, revealing the entire expanse of your shoulder and neck for him to play with. In between heated kisses, his hands explore your breasts, playing with your soft mounds over the fabric of your dress. 

No words are exchanged between the two of you. 

Your hands move over his chest, feeling the firm muscles under your fingertips before pushing his blazer off his shoulders. The lines are hazy just like your mind as you cannot decipher who pulls whom closer. In the dense cloud of lust, you can only fathom the opening of the buttons of his shirt and his warm body pressing next to yours. 

“I need you,” Wonwoo murmurs against your lips. One of his hands moves expertly down your thigh before he grips the back of your knee and places it around his waist. You pull him even closer, smashing your lips against his, hot and heavy as your tongue meets his.

Briefly, you hear the groan of his zipper being undone. You lift your dress, standing at an angle that helps him comfortably slide between your legs, his unrelenting grip on the back of your thigh.

"Put your hands over my shoulders and hold tight. " His whisper is a command as he positions himself at your entrance, pushing your panties to a side.

And before you can blink, he's inside you. The stretch of the intrusion makes you jolt and let out a loud, breathy groan of pleasure that makes you squeeze his shoulders and bite your lip. 

This. This is exactly what you wanted. Exactly what you needed.

You feel every delicious inch of him, moving in and out of you, familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. making your body shake from the onslaught of pleasure. Your hold on his shoulders tightens as little squeaks escape from your lips and your legs wrap themselves around his body tighter when you start to taste your release.

"Gosh, you're so tight. I missed you.” He grunts with each thrust. “Letting me fuck you against a wall, in my dressing room. Tell me, did you miss this? Did you miss me like I missed you?" Wonwoo demands, a hand reaching up to squeeze your cheeks, forcing you to look into his eyes.

“Look at me and tell me you did not miss me,” he pants, a snarl etched in his tone as he removes his hand from your face and grips the back of your throat, pulling your face closer to his.

"W-Wonwoo," you try to moan. Wonwoo keeps watching you with a darkened gaze, his pace matching the fierceness in his gaze as he continues to drill into you. He shakes after giving you a particular hard thrust, that makes your toes curl and your eyes roll back. “You are still that dirty girl. You're still my filthy slut."

You hate how much you missed his filthy mouth. 

"P-please," you pant, breathless trying to grind your clit against his pelvis. One touch on your clit and you're gonna come. "Please, let me come, Wonwoo."

The man smiles, and it almost appears cruel and cocky as he grabs your wrists in one hand and pins them hard on the wall. He increases his pace, thrusting in and out of you so hard that your back starts aching. However, you are way beyond complaining because the next moment his release is filling you up, triggering yours. Your cry is loud and unceremonious as you cling to him and ride out your high, feeling your release in the deepest fibres of your being

A short moment later, Wonwoo’s grip on you loosens. With a slightly hazy mind, you watch you grab some tissues, cleaning up you and him. With the haze of lust disappearing gradually, you find your head clearing up. The silence in the air now feels suffocating and you find yourself playing a guessing game.

Why is he so quiet? What is he thinking?

As Wonwoo buttons up his shirt and fixes his jacket, his gaze meets yours and you see his eyes fall on your lips. Pressing your fingertips around your lips, you realise your lipstick is smudged. Quietly, he hands you a tissue paper and you walk to the mirror, using it to dab the lipstick stain around your lips.

In the mirror, you watch Wonwoo watching you. All throughout, another strange, suffocating silence persists. As you toss the tissue in the bin, the silence is finally broken by his quiet, somber voice, “My father arranged a marriage for me.”

Your body grows ice cold.

For one long, horrible moment, you stop breathing, thinking, praying that you heard wrong.

“What are you…what— what do you mean?”

“He wants me to marry a chaebol heiress— Yuna Lee, sometime next year.”

Suddenly, you are scrambling to get your thoughts in order. It is always like this with him. One moment it is quiet and the next you are hit by a full speed freight train. 

“You should not have done that. We should not have done that. Why didn’t you tell me that before?” 

“Well, I tried—”

Suddenly, your blood is boiling and you are seeing red.

“What was this, a goodbye fuck?” You hiss, fixing the straps of your dress.

“What?” Wonwoo scoffs. “No! I have been thinking about you for months! Trying to figure out how to approach you—

“With all that thinking you sure did one good job!” You find yourself turning towards the door. 

“Oh come on! I…I missed you. You drive me crazy. You know damn well my brain stops working when you are near me.”

“No, Wonwoo. I don’t.” You grit. 

The passion, the emotion that you have been holding back all these months comes out in tidal waves. “In case you don’t remember, during our relationship, you were always so nonchalant, so detached. You did not give a shit about me. Not really because I was a fuck buddy to you. A girl getting paid to get your ass out of trouble every time and also someone available for a quick bang!”

Wonwoo’s demeanour shifts. You visibly see him get defensive. “Well, it's not like you professed your love to me! You did not ever hint that you were in love with me.”

Your mouth falls open at the absurdity of his words.

“You… you did not treat me with the minimum respect. You would disappear for weeks, Wonwoo, completely out of the radar only to show up when you needed my help.” You pause. “Never mind, it is pointless to argue with you.” You turn, reaching for the handle of the door.

Wonwoo stops you by roughly tugging on your arm. His grip is iron solid. “You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to leave without hearing my piece!”

You place a hand on his and use it to remove his fingers from your skin. “The time for speaking was months ago. Not now in a dressing room, minutes before you are about to be announced the new CEO.”

“I finally have my life together!”

“Do you?” You take a step closer to him with a challenge. “Do you really?”

Wonwoo remains silent, his eyes sparkling with thundering storms and clouds of emotions.

You continue. “I was your comfort zone. You used me when you needed me and then forgot about me when you were not in the mood. It would not have mattered if I professed undying love for you. You did not love me, not in the right way. You did not and you don’t right now. This is you trying to find comfort in something familiar…me.”

A twisted, unironical smile appears on his lips. “Oh, so you are what now, a therapist?”

You remain silent, watching him without blinking.

The man shakes his head, scoffing. “If you only knew how I truly felt…” His fingers card through his hair as he takes a step back. “You have no idea how I feel. In fact, right now, I don’t think you even know how you feel!”

Your lips part, ready to interject, but he goes on. “You are right. This was a mistake. I should not have told you about my dad’s plans of getting me married. No, because you would have liked to just straight up receive my wedding invite, huh? I should have just married her and showed up with her one day and introduced you as a special friend, no? Would you have liked that? Would that be the right thing to do?”

Each syllable coming out of his mouth burns like acid. Tears blur your vision but you force yourself not to cry in front of him.

“I fucking hate you.” You breathe, uttering each world slowly. “I hope you have a miserable life with her, you asshole. Never show me your face again.” Gathering your dress with one hand, you march towards the door, not stopping when he calls out your name or tries to hold onto you.

He can go to hell.

Your steps are quick as you pick up pace, running down the long hallway of the private rooms and then down a common corridor before you come to the large foyer in front of the elevator. With your skirt fisted in your hands, you dash for it but a voice makes you pause.

You turn back to find Jeonghan calling your name and jogging after you. As he comes to a stop in front of you, his eyes go up and down the length of your body, taking notice of your dishevelled appearance. 

“Are you okay?” His fingers gently touch your arm but you don’t let him pull you closer.

You need to leave.

“I need to go home.” You whisper, voice wobbly.

“Why are you running?” He steps closer to you, a desperation in his voice that matches the look in your eyes. “That bastard keeps hurting you and you keep running from him. Go and fucking… I don’t know— cause a scene! Drag him on stage and smack him once or twice.”

You are not in the mood for this.

“Stop it, Jeonghan,” you grunt turning away but the man steps in front of you.

“No! I won’t stop when I see you repeatedly suffering because of him.”

If you were not so overcome with emotions, you would roll your eyes.

“Just let me go.” You hiss, stepping past the man blocking your way. As you cross him, however, a harsh grip on your wrist forces you to stop. 

“Go out with me,” Jeonghan says in the calmest manner, the hold of his fingers on your wrist steadfast like his voice.

You almost make a move to yank yourself free but the diction of those words stops you in your tracks as if a thunderbolt has just struck you. You slowly turn your head back to meet Jeonghan’s eyes, wondering if he really said that. The strength you had moments ago to break your hand free suddenly dissipates as you meet his piercing gaze.

Along with your heartbeat, time stops.

You forget to blink, feeling the subtle tightening of his grip on you. As the silence hangs longer in the air and the depth of his words settles into the empty grand hall and every crevice of your tattered heart, you find yourself motionless, thoughtless, speechless.

“Date me. You know I’ll treat you better.” He states, again.

You feel like you are hyperventilating. A shaky breath comes from your lips and after that, each breath is a struggle. 

Suddenly, everything is too much.

Too much light in this hall. Too much noise in the background.

Too much sincerity in his words.

For a moment, you genuinely find yourself considering.

And as your gaze strays from your colleague for the smallest moment, you notice Wonwoo standing a few meters behind him. 

The look in his eyes is inexplicable but you feel every emotion radiating off him and you immediately know he heard everything. He doesn’t move, however. As the silence persists, his gaze darkens, watching you like a hawk, almost as if he is waiting to hear your verdict.

At the same time, the longer you look, his gaze appears vulnerable, betrayed.

And you feel…guilty.

Want to know how Jeonghan actually got the reader's order right? Read the special scene here!

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