#almost makes me want to start writing fic again | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

blkkizzat · 9 months ago

Text

❝DIGIMON—BUT MAKING U CUM IS MY REAL HOBBY!❞

⏯ OTAKU!GOJO X BIMBO!READER

⏭ summary: your best friend gojo is a hopeless otaku virgin with zero rizz that's still obsessed with digimon—despite being a grown ass man. you're a slut who despite her best whoring efforts—can't cum. you'll take his v-card and he'll fix your broken pussy, deal? college au.

⏭ cw: virgin!satoru, gentle sex then rough sex , spanking (ass & pussy), slight sugar daddy/baby dynamic, coercion, dubcon, ecchi/pervy/freak nasty satoru, apprehensive bimbo!reader scared to nut, reader is also a bit of a tsundere brat but this isn't brat taming per se, oral fixation, toe licking, riding, prone bone, missionary, pussy eating, deep-throating, forced gagging, fingering, squirting, edging, olfactophilia, hand-job, protected & unprotected sex, bdsm references, masturbation, bit of somnophilia, pet names: Bunny (reader is called that in lieu of y/n), suggestions of geto x reader, mentions of satosugu and shokohime.

⏭ a/n: in my crack smut bag again cause this white haired demon wont let me rest until i write this nasty shit. fr tho this fic 13.3k and literally 10k of it is Gojo fucking you six ways to sunday. fyi this is the same y/n from nerd!geto but this is a different version of that AU where suguru is the one who has rizz and satoru is the nerd. y'all better read this or i'll never write gojo again istg lmfao. also shoutout to @halosdiary for beta reading and telling me it was good enough to post lol.

eta: y'all won. its a series now lol

“FUCK YEAH, LET’S GO!!! I ALONE AM THE CHAMPION OF THE DIGITAL WORLD!!!”

Startled by Gojo’s sudden outburst—you nearly rolled off the bed.

Thankfully Suguru is sitting next to you and caught you before you fell off completely.

Fully energized by his win Gojo sprang up from his elaborate PC setup, bouncing around the room in celebration. Fist-pumping the air he couldn’t contain his excitement after winning the Tokyo Regional Qualifiers for the Digimon Online TCG.

“Guys, hey guys! See! I told you I’d win! I’m the strongest! The digidestined!”

You and Suguru exchanged exasperated glances before side-eyeing the hell out of Gojo.

This went on for a good 10 minutes so you had since returned to mindlessly scrolling TikTok, not wanting to encourage your grown-ass-almost-22-years-old-best-friend’s excitement over a children’s game.

“You sure showed those middle schoolers, Toru.”

Suguru quips with a smile. He’s clearly being sarcastic but Gojo is unfazed—nothing could damper his mood.

“Damn straight I did!”

Both you and Suguru have to chuckle, rolling your eyes at his childish enthusiasm.

Despite the shared sentiment of annoyance over your best friend’s hobbies, you both were just happy to have Gojo back again. Two long years had passed since his parents made him travel the world on a rotation program, tasked with visiting the various Six-Vision Industries offices he would one day inherit.

Being the nerdy genius he was, Gojo stacked a mass of university level credits in high school. So even with missing the first two years of college he’d still be joining you as a third year at your university come fall.

After being apart for so long it was refreshing to hang out again and kicking it at Gojo’s mansion had been a daily occurrence since the start of the summer. Although things had definitely changed in the two years Gojo had been away there was one thing that certainly hadn’t.

Gojo was still a fucking huge otaku nerd.

You’d thought his time spent in the business world would have matured him. However, being abroad, away from his friends and spending all day around the ‘stinky old fogeys in suits’ as he called them, only made him retreat further into otakudom.

That much was evident as his collection of posters, figures and manga had somehow only seemed to grow even with him away.

“Alright, while I just would love to stick around and hear more about you destroying the dreams of 12 year olds Toru—beach girl just texted me, gotta bounce!”

Suguru tries to leave but Toru clings onto him practically spider monkeying himself onto his back in an effort to get him to stay.

“Sugu! Don’t leave! We’ve already been apart from each other for too long~~”

Sighing, Suguru attempts to pry his incorrigible bestie off of him.

“Satoru, you just spent the last 5 hours playing Digimon acting like me and Bunny weren’t even here. I’m sure if you go back to playing you won't even miss me.”

Gojo continues to pout as he whines for Suguru to stay.

“But I miss you already Sugu!”

Gojo presses his cheek against Suguru’s as Suguru’s eyebrow begins to twitch.

“I know! Invite your date here! Our chef is 10 times better than any restaurant you’d go to and you know we have an infinity pool grotto and onsen!

While the offer was tempting as any potential date would be thoroughly wowed by the decadent splendor that was the Gojo Family Residence—Suguru would also thoroughly cuck himself once his date was given the grand tour.

Particularly the stop which included Gojo’s anime figure and otaku memorabilia rooms.

While a good number of them were harmlessly nerdy shonen or slightly ecchi isekai figures—the rest? Well the rest contained every kind of freak nasty hentai figure you could think of—shibari, futanari and even the classic La Blue Girl tentacle dioramas—it was like a horny museum.

Although at this point it should be considered a horny mausoleum as no woman who walked in would be walking out still in the mood—it was surely a place where horny went to die.

“Uh yeah, sure next time Toru….”

Suguru reaches back to pat Gojo on the head reassuringly.

Lying as he was more than certain there wouldn’t be a next time. There wasn’t even going to be dinner—this was purely a hookup situation.

“...but she’s already waiting for me outside my place—gotta run!”

Realizing Gojo still wasn’t letting go, Suguru sighs realizing this would require him utilizing his Judo training.

In one swift movement, Suguru manages to shoulder-wheel Gojo and toss him onto the other side of his massive bed. The bed rebounds as he lands, slightly lifting you off your belly but you still are more interested in your phone.

This isn’t the first time Suguru has Judo thrown Gojo off of him (likely wouldn’t be the last either).

Saying quick goodbyes before Gojo could recover, Suguru manages to slip away.

“Traitor!!! So much for bros before hoes!”

Utterly dejected, Gojo crawls up next to you on his massive bed.

“At least I still have you here Bunny.”

“Uh, not to pile on but you know I’m only here until Shoko and Utahime text me they are ready to go to the mall, right? I’m in dire need of a new handbag!”

Now clinging on to you Gojo throws another small tantrum as the weight of half his sinewy body presses into your back, his lean muscular arms wrapping around your shoulders.

“Not you too, Bunny puhleeease!”

You’ve known each other since you were in diapers so it wasn’t odd for you, him or Suguru to be found giving the others platonic cuddles like this—often all together too. The both of them were always so much bigger than you so you often enjoyed the comfort and security of always being the filling in the cuddle sandwich.

Gojo rests his chin on your shoulder watching as you continue scrolling TikTok. You sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes before his irritatingly hyperactive nature gets the best of him, and he starts poking around your phone to click on other videos that weren’t the 'mystery and makeup' ones you were watching.

“Toru, you know you could get a lot of your own hoes to hang out with if you weren’t such a huge otaku nerd…”

You had to swat Gojo’s hand away again as he tries to click on another prank video and he rolls off of you with a frustrated sigh.

“...you’re almost as good looking as Suguru…”

Muttering the last part of that under your breath. Arguably Gojo’s features were just as if not more striking than Suguru’s.

He was too hot himself for all of it to go to waste for being such a big dork.

“I’m sure Sugu would be happy to teach you ‘the way of the fuckboy’ if you asked Toru—that is if you’d actually go out clubbing like a normal 21 year old.”

“Why would I do that though? My house is 100 times better than a club!”

Touché.

While no one in your friend group was what someone would consider poor, Gojo’s wealth paled in comparison to anyone else’s and that went without saying. He’d had everything—if not more—than even the nicest tokyo club had. This was all thanks to his parents as socialites in their own right, often entertaining businessmen, dignitaries or foreign representatives with their ultra-exclusive parties.

“Besides, it wouldn't work—”

Gojo continued to pout.

“—Suguru would just get all the hoes anyway.”

Easily able to walk up to even the most standoffish looking women, Suguru would have them reduced to bashful school girls in under 5 minutes. The women were always willing to hand over their numbers or drop any immediate plans to hang out with Suguru instead.

A good number of them had boyfriends already too.

Yet despite having the looks, Gojo opening his mouth ruined any advantage his lustrous blue eyes, exotic snow white hair and sharp handsome features gave him.

“Well, Suguru has a normal 21 year old’s room for starters, Toru. Not full of nerdy ass anime posters and Digimon tournament trophies.”

Gojo goes quiet.

Driven from an early age to fill his head with knowledge of politics, technology, and international business relations, he spent the precious free time he did get with his friends or consumed by his own interests. Interests which just happened to be a bunch of otaku shit—Digimon in particular.

It was an escape he’d cherished as a child and that didn’t change growing into adulthood either, if anything he needed it more now.

When Gojo doesn’t answer you look over to see him actually sulking for real now—face buried in a giant Agumon pillow plushie.

What a crybaby.

But the crybaby was one of your besties so you decided to lighten the mood and tease him a little.

“Ya know Toruuuu….you could just fuck Sugu then. Don’t think I haven’t seen y’all get a lil’ handsy during our cuddles!”

You give him a playful smirk and mime grabby hands at him.

“Oh and you haven’t? Don’t act like you wouldn’t fuck Suguru either!”

No longer appearing mopey, Gojo is up and laughing again. Mission Accomplished.

“Hey! I never said I wouldn’t but this isn’t about me, this is about you finally getting some play!”

You snap back but you’re blushing.

Like damn, who hadn’t thought about fucking Suguru though?

“It's not the same if he makes me bottom! Plus no one thinks I can get pussy!”

Gojo grumbles, hugging his Agumon plushie to his cheek.

You can’t help but notice how cute and baby girl he looks all pouty.

He’d definitely get women lining up around the block of his huge ass mansion if he could at least get to the dating phase without giving out the otaku ick.

“Because you can’t Gojo—Hoes don’t want to fuck guys who play Digimon!”

“But you’re a hoe and you like digimon too!”

Turning to look at him, you’d had half a mind to slap the shit out of Satoru but he had said it so earnestly. There was no sass nor malice behind his words.

Besides, you were a hoe. That wasn’t something you ever denied.

You sigh.

“Yeah I am a hoe now and I—keyword—liked Digimon. But that was back when I was a kid, Toru!”

Gojo scoffs and rolls his eyes.

“Listen, you’re my friend so m’gonna keep it a buck with you—a guy concerned with being digidestined is definitely not pussy destined, you digidork!”

You playfully hit him with the pillow you were laying on, not wanting him to start sulking again.

Finally stimulated by something interesting Gojo wastes no time joining the pillow fight you initiated and you tussle with him on the bed until you both are exhausted and out of breath.

Of course you come out of it victorious though. By the end you’d pinned both the pillows and Toru under you.

Gojo however is back to pouting.

“Ugh, Bunny seriously though—I can’t go into junior year of college as a virgin!”

You smirk at his complaints as the answer is obvious.

“Throw away your figures and digimon cards then.”

“I’d rather die.”

“A virgin? At this rate you will.”

Gojo huffs in defeat as you settle comfortably on top of him this time.

You’re about to reach for your phone again until you see a curious look flash across his face—the kind of look he always had as a kid when he thought of a hair-brain scheme that would lead to getting you all in trouble.

“Toru—what is it? And why do I have the feeling m’not gonna like it?”

You pull away cautiously, but his large hands grip your waist, stopping you and causing you to squeak in surprise.

“Hm, I dunno—was just thinkin’... why don’t you fuck me, Bunny?”

Your deadpan expression has Gojo scrambling, holding you closer in a vice grip when you try to squirm away.

“Hey! Wait, I’m serious! Come on, Bunny! I need the experience and you always tell us about all your hookups! You have the experience—help a guy out!”

Staring at him skeptically you considered.

I mean sure, you always thought Gojo was attractive, more so since he returned this summer nearly a half a foot taller—but he was Gojo Satoru.

Your dorky, goofy, pervy otaku bestie practically since birth!

You couldn’t just go and fuck him could you?

God, you could only imagine the taunts you’d get if word got out. Your friend group would never let you live it down!

“Nah Toru—that would be too weird!”

“Huh, how come? You said I was almost as attractive as Suguru earlier!”

You stiffen.

Fuck, he’d heard that after all.

“Ooo, ooo! Annnnd, you said last week you wanted a sugar daddy… Well, hi! I’m right here!”

The huge grin on his face has you frowning although more so because he was actually making some sense for once. I mean you were half-joking when you said it—well, let’s be honest not really.

However, you mostly said it because while your family was well off enough, you still weren’t living in the lap of luxury by any means like a Gojo clan member. Unfortunately for you though, you were born with the expensive tastes of someone who was. So while you could afford a cute Chanel bag or a MCM wallet here or there, you’d set your sights on something higher—a coveted Hermes Birkin.

Toru certainly could afford to buy you a whole truck load of them with what his family made in less than an hour.

Nevertheless that wasn’t really the issue at hand.

In spite of you being far from a virgin, there was actually a good reason why you wouldn’t be a good choice for Gojo to lose his v-card.

“Er, em—that’s really not the issue, Toru…”

Trailing off you’re the one pouting now as you glance at your nails.

“Then what? Don’t tell me our lil’ Bun Bun is shy now? Over lil’ ol’ me?”

Gojo teases you by sticking out his tongue—chuckling when you snap your head up to glare at him.

“You wish…”

You grumble, chewing your lip now and debating whether or not to tell him the truth while Gojo looks at you with wide and glassy puppy eyes. Shaking your head you come to the conclusion you could trust him with your secret.

He was the virgin otaku after all—he’s the one who should be embarrassed here!

“It’s just that…I–I can’t cum.”

Gojo just blinks at you.

Clearly confused with metaphorical question marks surrounding his head as that's definitely not the answer he was expecting.

“I’ve slept with plenty of guys before but I never had an orgasm. I don't even really get close—I mean, sure, it feels good, I guess—mostly just a little weird. I heard some people just can’t and maybe that's me.”

You shrug, a bit nervous to look Gojo in the eye as you thought he may tease you further about this but was lost in contemplation. Almost as if he was seriously trying to do the biological math around what you’d just told him.

After about a minute more he finally asks—

“—Does Suguru know?”

A simple question, unloaded in tone as Gojo is genuinely curious but it leaves you flustered nonetheless.

“What?! Are you crazy?! Why would I tell him?!”

“Just figured if anyone could then—”

“—Hell no, Toru! Besides, what if he does? I’m not trying to be reduced to a fuckboy’s pick me if he ends up being the only man alive who can give me an orgasm!”

Sure Suguru was hot as fuck—as was a lot of your other fuckboy friends (Toji and Sukuna)—but you definitely didn’t want to end up like the dickmatized girls that would follow them around and literally box each other in the streets over some cock.

You weren’t much of a fighter anyway and your face was far too cute to be getting scratched up.

Pussy should be put on a pedestal, not the other way around. You’d continue to be orgasmless before it came to that.

“Mm, but Shoko and Utahime know?”

You’re blushing more than ever this time.

“Um, yeah—T-They said once I realized all men were worthless to call them and they’d give me multiple of them.”

Gojo snorted at that but he was now convinced you both could help each other.

“So we have no other options—then it's settled!”

In one fluid motion Gojo snatches away the pillows from between you and swaps positions—now with you on the bottom.

“Huh–wait—Toru!?”

Gojo groans.

“Come on, Bunny! I want pussy, you want to cum on top of getting that Bikram bag—

“—Birkin bag.”

You corrected him.

“Yeah that one! So let’s help each other out, eh?�� PULHEEEASEEE—Just the tip?”

You weren’t at all convinced that Gojo—whose sexual knowledge came purely from JAV, hentai and onaholes—could make you cum.

But then again sure, fuck it, why not?

You were getting bored waiting for Shoko to call you anyway and if Toru was willing to come off a Birkin for a lil’ pussy, you might as well fuck him.

None of the other guys you had fucked even came close to making sex this worth it. Frankly this would be worth it even if you didn’t actually cum.

“Fiiiine Toru, let’s have sex—”

“FUCK YEAH!”

“—BUT we’re laying down some ground rules!”

Sitting up with a straight back, Gojo obediently awaited your orders.

“Anything you want Bunny, name 'em go’on!”

Gojo’s overenthusiasm was like a puppy and you were sure if he had a tail it would be thumping on the bed like crazy now.

You wanted to crack a smile but you know from prior experience that if you give men an inch they will take the whole goddamn mile—and Gojo of all people was no exception—so you are firm as you sit up to look in his eyes and lay down the law.

“First—like you said, just the tip.”

Gojo started to protest but the raise of your eyebrows had him changing his tune immediately.

“Got it! Got it! Just the tip would be amazing Bunny, what else?”

He chided himself and you continued.

“And secondly, just because you bros have no loyalty, it’s still ‘chicks before dicks’ over here. You better get your nut quick cause I’m still leaving to go purse shopping when Shoko and Utahime call me.”

Gojo waves you off with that rule.

“Psh, we should have plenty of time, it's almost 6pm! They’ve probably been too busy bumping their own purses together to go shopping with you for one. You haven’t heard from either of them in hours!”

Fair point—wildly out of pocket, but fair.

Still.

“Bumping Purses!? Really, Toru?”

“You know I’m not lying—but that’s it then, right Bunny?”

Not waiting, Gojo throws his shirt off and starts fumbling with the ties on his sweats before you stop him.

“Nah, Toru, hold your horses! One more rule!”

Freezing mid-action, Gojo's hands are shaking as he expectantly gazes at you, waiting for the last condition before you give him the green light.

“Finally, third—and most fucking importanly—if you make any, and I mean even just ONE—otaku reference, especially Digimon while you’re inside me I’ll snap your lil’ digidick off, understood?”

Gojo swallowed.

Hard terms to live with but something he would be willing to abide by for pussy.

“Yes ma’am! Got it! Just the tip, you will ditch me for the purse bumpers and no Digimon!”

Gojo repeats your rules matter-of-factly.

You roll your eyes but are satisfied enough he understood and you wave him off in the direction of your bag.

“Good. Now, be a good boy and go get a rubber out of my purse.”

Bolting over to your purse Gojo grabs a pack of condoms and is back on the bed in an instant.

Reality sinking in on what you were about to do and who you were about to do it with, you suddenly become hyper aware, appraising Gojo.

You note just how much in the two years since high school he’s grown. Still a bit lanky in areas but overall he filled out more for sure and his muscles were much more defined rippling underneath his skin as he eagerly clambered over you. Gojo still possessed the same piercing sky blue eyes that lit up a room but they looked all too predatorily hungry now that he was hovering over you.

You swallow.

You’d feel almost completely out of control of the situation if it wasn’t also for the bundle of nervous energy radiating off of Gojo—his hands spasming like he might bust his pants the moment he touches you.

You try to maintain your composure, but your jaw drops and your eyes widen in shock when he finally pushes his sweats and boxers down in one swift motion.

Gojo was fucking huge!

“Toru—what the actual fuck?!”

Third leg was a massive understatement.

I mean you didn’t think he’d be small—you’d been around him enough in boxers, sweats, pjs, etc growing up—but you didn’t expect this.

He was definitely a grower and Christ did he just fucking grow!

Gojo looked puzzled until he followed your wide eyed gawking down to his lower half.

Heh.

“Am I the biggest you’ve seen, Bunny?”

Growing prideful Gojo pokes at you a bit and your ogling only grows more incredulous.

You didn't know if he was the girthiest but certainly the longest by far. He’d actually puncture a lung if he stuck that whole monstrous thing in you!

It would literally have to be just the tip and you are thanking God right now that he’d already agreed to those terms. That would be much too uncomfortable to cum from and you are beginning to question how the pornstars manage. This wasn’t a JAV but Gojo, if his company ever went belly up, certainly had a promising career on OnlyFans ahead of him.

Gojo’s chest puffed up ten times more from your staring as he slipped the condom on (which only fit two-thirds of the way down).

“O-Ok, Bunny now you!”

His cock throbbed more violently the longer you looked at him. The anticipation is contagious to say the least and you can't help but feel your chest warm at his eagerness.

Gojo wants to get the attention off of him and you smile at him knowingly.

“You mean you don’t want to take my clothes off yourself?”

The thought never occurred to Gojo but he dumbly nodded. Your yelps echo in the room as his massive hands are on your hips faster than lighting pulling you towards him.

The motion causes your tits to jiggle, the soft mounds moving freely beneath your spaghetti strapped halter and Gojo berates himself on how he only now is noticing you weren’t wearing a bra all this time.

Gojo’s mouth goes dry at your nipples, already peaked and poking through the thin fabric.

Your nipples pucker further when the crisp air of the A/C hits them after Gojo pulls your top overhead and you arch up to assist, not realizing you presented yourself to him like a treat to a dog.

“T-Toru!!!!”

Gojo wraps his strong sturdy arms fully around your body. Pressing his face deep into your chest as his warm wet lips latch onto a nipple. His mouth now suctioned to you, Gojo swirls and flicks his tongue around the hardened bud. Gojo moans around your flesh, pleasantly surprised at how addicting the sweet salty taste of your skin is.

If Gojo wasn’t sure he had an oral fixation before he surely knows now. Zoning out everything else except for the sloppy sounds of him worshiping your breast, he relishes the contrasting textures of his rough tongue suckling the soft skin of your swelling bud.

Gojo surely would have been latched onto you for hours and you are only able to pry his head away when he releases your nipple with a wet pop to take a breath.

“TORU!!!”

You’re panting and red faced as you yank his head back.

But Gojo is a man solely focused—tongue hanging out off his mouth captivated by how cutely your areola puffed as it glistened with his spit and fighting overwhelming desire to get the other one in a similar state.

“Huh–Bunny, b-baby—you taste so good n’ your tiddies are so nice—so fuh-kin’ soft.”

Gojo’s tongue is hanging out of his mouth drooling as he attempts to dive back into your chest. you feel his heavy cock on your thigh as his hips begin to rut against you.

This was too much!

“Stop Toru! You’re being too rough, they are sensitive! Besides, times’ ticking! Remember I have no problem leaving you blue balled if Shoko or Utahime call me!”

You do your best to give him a disapproving look as you blush.

“Awe but you seemed like you were liking it, you were whining loud enough.”

“Shut up n’just get on with it!”

“Yes ma’am~~”

Enjoying your breasts so much Gojo almost forgot he hadn’t even seen your pretty pussy yet.

Making quick work of your shorts, Gojo manages to pull them down just over your core but is stunned once again as he burns the image of the skin-melding fabric of the mesh hot pink g-string covering your cunt. The thin satiny straps dug into your supple hips amplifying your curvaceous form.

Fucking slutty as hell!

Rivaling that of even his most favorite and most scandalous hentai figures.

This was so much better, so much more lewd as the clingy fabric struggles to cover the fat of your plump pussy lips—not like the transparency of them left much to the imagination.

God help him, he just wants to tear them off with his teeth and open mouth swan-dive into your dewy lil’cunt—-pushing his tongue deep into your peachy core tongue fucking orgasm after orgasm out of you until he drowned in your milky nectar—but he has to restrain himself.

You probably wouldn’t like that too much given your reaction earlier and he’d die if you’d happen to just call the whole thing off.

Mouth drying and hands twitching—Gojo is trying so hard to be a good boy and contain his more perverted instincts.

“Earth to Toru! Y-You good?”

Gojo looked like a tightly wound coil ready to pop in every sense of the word and you hated that his nervousness was making you nervous too.

So on edge you almost jumped once his eyes snapped up to meet yours.

“G-Great, Bunny…j-just fine.”

Gojo’s voice falters, becoming more pitchy and you giggle. As much as Gojo wants to look at your pussy as he peels the flimsy moist fabric off of them he couldn’t do that at this moment—he would actually bust his pants.

Instead, Gojo leans in to kiss you, but you block him. He ends up kissing your palm instead.

“Toruuu… that be too weird, we’re friends remember?”

“Yeah friends who are fucking, Bunny! You mean you won’t let my tongue in your mouth but you’re letting my dick inside your pussy?!”

You knew it sounded nonsensical even before he said it back to you. But your heart was pounding so loudly in your ears you could barely hear him anyway.

You didn’t know what you were scared of this time?

You had let all your other previous hookups makeout with you but Gojo was different.

This felt entirely different.

You didn’t know why, you just knew it was and you were apprehensive of the unfamiliar emotions he was stirring in you and this wasn’t supposed to be anything more than an arrangement between friends.

“Don’t you need to warm up tho Bunny? Obviously m’no pro at this—but even I know a little bit more foreplay is usually needed?”

Your heart beats louder at his concern but you push that aside trying to focus on your breaths.

Satoru should have been the easiest lay but for a reason that alludes—you were coming undone before him.

“Shut up Toru and just fuck me! The foreplay stuff doesn't matter, it won't make a difference anyway, m’not gonna cum! Also you’re big af so grab your lube. We're gonna need lots of it!”

Toru pouts but follows your commands without fuss.

Although he’s anxious to get his dick wet he also is still thinking of how he can hold up his end of the bargain other than a stupid purse.

You said he didn’t need to but he wanted to.

The thought of finally losing his v-card excited him but there was something that made his cock throb harder at being the first man to give you an orgasm.

But you don’t want him to touch you beyond what was absolutely necessary, so how was he going to accomplish that exactly?

Gojo was a genius and had the IQ score to prove it, he’d be able to solve the problem once he was inside you, right?

Turning back to face you after retrieving the lube from his nightstand, Toru has to grab the base of his cock this time to keep from prematurely coming in the latex that was already starting to thicken with his precum.

There you were laid out like a slut—panties pulled to the side—fingering yourself a bit to loosen up, having reconsidered his suggestion of foreplay when the twitching on your thigh reminded you of how big he actually was.

“OH SHI—”

You notice his jaw hanging open, utterly entranced as his eyes follow the motions.

You knew you should be letting him do this to get the experience but honestly there was no sense in setting Gojo up for failure—delivering a significant blow to his ego when he inevitably couldn’t make you cum. You didn’t want to damage him even more if he felt it was his fault your pussy was apparently broken, you having tensed up completely every time a guy had tried before.

But you can’t deny you are getting some pleasure—if only through your own amusement—as you grab his cock and pump the lube he poured down his latex covered shaft, still fingering yourself—much to Gojo’s delight and wonder of seeing an actual real pussy up close.

Gojo sucks in air and groans pitifully as your hand spreads the cool gel over his length which only intensifies his ache to be inside of you.

“C’mere, Toru…”

You beckon sweetly, guiding him forward with your back against the pillows, you tease the crown of his tip through your folds preparing him for missionary.

Gojo nearly bites a chunk out of his lip when his thick cockhead finally catches over your slicked entrance and you’re left wincing.

“T-Toru, e-easy—o-ok? Not too deep...”

A breathy confirmation shudders out of Gojo as he’s easing himself into your warm tightening cunt. The stretch is immediate which mentally confirms for you he is also the girthiest you’ve ever had as well.

Your heels dig into his hips to brace yourself while he hovers over you, arms shaking.

“FUUUUUHHHH—”

Even with the rubber on, Gojo still thinks he might melt from how warm and tight you are—so much better than even his onahole with the custom grip and heating features.

Screwing his eyes shut, Gojo has to count backwards from a million, recite Japan’s national anthem, list the GDPs of the top 10 wealthiest countries—anything—or he will cum too soon or worse, crack and drive his hips until he’s all the way to the hilt from the way your dangerous lil’ pussy is sucking him in.

God, it felt like your slutty cunt had a mind of its own calling for him to push in a lil’ deeper, greedily begging for him to go a lil’ further but Gojo resists.

Sweat beads on his brow from the exerted effort of sheer willpower to keep his promise to you.

To Gojo’s credit, he really is doing his best, only a little less than a third but due to his length that's still a lot.

Your eyes wander up to Gojo’s face and away from where he is wholly splitting you open, lest you clench on him even tighter and you knew you needed to relax. Even if you weren't really feeling much but the overwhelming strain from the tight fit, looking at Gojo you were happy that he appeared to be in bliss at least.

His eyes still squeezed shut, mouth hanging open and spittle flowing down his jaw Gojo was in his own world as he continuously babbled nonsense about how perfect your cunt felt around him.

Just the tip in you for all of 20 seconds and already pussy drunk from just this much.

“B-Bunny, Oh SHHIII–B-Bunny—m’cute Bun—FAH-ACK s’gud—m’gonna cum soon UHH–pussy feels s’good—oh-oh my god!”

Although his entire body is quaking with pleasure, the few functional brain cells that survived the fiery blaze of your sinful lil’ pussy are still thinking of you.

Gojo tries to give some attention to your neglected lil’ clit, but a single swipe causes your leg to jerk and you promptly push his hand away again.

“N-NO! Pleaseee, m’too sensitive Toru! J-Just focus on your thrusts! Y-You’re s’close, m’can feel your cock twitching i-i-inside me...”

Gojo wants to challenge you on this—suspecting from the way your cunt felt constricting around him you felt something pleasurable then—but he’s too far gone and much too inexperienced to keep focused on anything else.

Especially when you are so explicitly describing him fucking you.

Grabbing his face you bring your foreheads to touch to help calm him so he’d last a bit longer. Although you still hold his face to prevent him from kissing you, he's close enough that you're sharing the same breath, now looking into each other's eyes.

He struggles to maintain eye contact though before the magnetism of your heated core had them rolling back again.

You're still not close to cumming, yet you are beginning to enjoy the warm comforting feeling of being this full as he holds you close, his short thrusts gaining momentum.

Sharing intimacy with someone you actually cared about for once is really nice and you wouldn't mind having more sex like this even if you couldn't cum.

Thumbing over Gojo’s moist lips you coo sweet praises to him as he desperately moans around your delicate appendage. Suckling your thumb between his lips and nursing on it until he can no longer contain the heavy breaths that overpower him and fan across your face.

Sharing the same exhaled breath is making you light headed and you mewl at the keen sensations it stirs in your pussy that has him full on gasping now. Gojo releases the whiniest moan as he falls into you, unable to support his arms any longer.

Showering your neck with open mouth kisses as his body curls more into yours.

However it all proves far too much when Gojo faltering more in his promise, slips more than halfway into your cunt—instantly filling the latex as it balloons inside of you as you scrape your heels against his back.

SHIIIIIT! He s’big!

Despite nearly splitting your poor pussy into two at the end though, Gojo did such a good job for his first time.

You’d forgive him just this once though as you wrapped your arms around his head, gently petting his undercut. His heaving breaths quiet under your soothing touches, finally ceasing the stream of his spit and tears that had been pooling in your collarbone.

Staying like that for a while holding him while his heartbeat calms to match yours and his length softens inside you. You close your eyes peacefully for a few moments before you hear your phone vibrate next to you.

It's Shoko!

Shoko’s text apologizes for the delays and offers to get dinner instead—promising to go shopping with you and Utahime tomorrow since they got held up and you make plans for dinner in two hours.

Perfect. That gives you plenty of time to clean up and get yourself presentable.

“Did you cum even a lil bit, Bunny?”

Oh sweet baby, if you have to ask…You think to yourself but it's not poor Toru’s fault your pussy is out of order.

“Um, no Toru baby—but you did so well! Ya know you’re actually pretty cute and considerate when you get a little pussy. I’m sure you’ll manage to make any girl you happen to get naked happy!”

Gojo counters you with a disappointed look still panting slightly as he pulls out and rolls over bringing you towards him to cuddle. Allowing him, reasoning that you don’t have to get up right this second.

Yoour back meets his chest and it’s then you notice the condom still inside you. Figures since it was much too small in the first place. Yet you couldn’t complain as it managed to do its job due to Satoru not going all the way in. Breathing out you grimace a bit as you still had to give it a pretty good tug to lodge the filled latex out of your sore cunt.

“Goddamn Toru, you were pretty backed up huh?”

Having witnessed the entire display from over your shoulder and the sight of the light blue rubber covered in your fluids while drooping heavily with his own has Gojo’s dick stirring again as you jiggle the rubber demonstrating its fullness before tossing it into the bin beside his bed.

Conflicted Gojo broods for a while as he hugs you to him.

While his body felt mostly satisfied, seeing you still unsatisfied put a huge damper on his mood.

Sure you had told him you couldn’t come—but would any girl cum without much foreplay or stimulation?

Even the darker hentais and JAVs he’s seen had more foreplay than this!

Hmmm...

Thinking over the experience again in his mind he had a hunch that if right could cure your lack of orgasms but needed you to let him fuck you once more to be sure.

“So you’re gonna hit and quit just like that, Bunny?”

He teases clinging onto you again when you try to maneuver out of his embrace.

“No time for more cuddles Toru—Shoko texted, we’re getting dinner in two hours.”

“Wait! Bunny! That’s so far away—Let me go again, pleeeease!”

Gojo is determined this time to make you cum for real! And, yeah you know—your slick heat sliding up and down his cock again would be a highlight too.

“Toru–”

“—Come on bunny! We solved my problem but we haven't fixed yours, you still haven't cum yet!”

“Toru, I thought we understood we were never going to solve my problem in the first place—so don't stress! Also I know this is probably the first time a girl has said this to you and actually meant it—but it's really not you!”

Gojo puts his negotiation face on.

You wanted to play hardball? Bet.

“I’ll give you my black card for a whole week!”

Gojo turns you around to look him in the eye so you could see how sincere he was, he really wanted to try again—he knew he could make you cum this time!

You sighed.

You couldn't really be mad at him—in fact, it was actually the cutest thing—that he wanted to keep trying for your benefit—but you didn’t see the point when it would just lead to the same result. You don’t even need to glance down to see Gojo’s cock was just as resolute as he’s already recovered and fully bricked—length pulsing against your ass.

Well—given his last performance you were sure he’d last all of five minutes and if you had his black card for a whole week you were about to tear the entire Hermes store up—a Birkin and a Kelly in every color!

Hell, maybe you could even get the coveted baby pink ostrich one.

“Mmm’kay, Toru—black card for a week! No limit!”

“Yup of course! Oooh no—Wait, no rubbers and I'll let you have my new g-wagon too! I hear raw sex is sooo much better you will cum for sure then Bunny!”

Well you knew a good bargain when you heard it.

Throwing the unopened condoms to the side you laid back down.

Imported European cars are stupid expensive to get in Japan and if he was coming off a g-wagon—especially as it was a custom powder blue matte with dune colored seats and shiny platinum rims—then he could have as many two-minute pump sessions as he wanted.

He’d likely pass out from dehydration in less than twenty tops anyway.

“Okay, but same rules as before except no cumming inside Toru! I mean it! It's too much of a mess to clean up after, it’ll be dripping all night especially all that you came last time…”

The thought of your gooey tender cunt weeping his nut for hours has Gojo’s balls tightening in want of making it a reality—but he knew if all went to plan you’d be begging for it!

First—he needed you to take a more active role this time. He saw you settled back onto the pillows and that simply wouldn’t do.

“Um Bunny, can you be on top? I-I’m dying to see what your cute tiddies look like jiggling all crazy like in my face.”

You cover your chest, frowning in offense at his more debauched ecchi preferences but you agreed nonetheless.

Relenting as it’d likely have him cumming sooner and then you could finally get ready to meet the girls—all in your new g-wagon, although you’d definitely have to make up a lie as to how you scammed it out of Gojo.

Gojo takes your place on the pillows, amused as now it’s his turn to beckon you forward. Steeling yourself, you embarked on your climb to mount him. Tall and lean with wisps of hair sticking to his face Gojo looked more like he belonged in a painting, unnerving you that a face only an artist could sculpt admired your body with his lustful gaze.

He was too sexy for his own nerdy ass good like this and you failed not to whimper when his strong hands settled at your waist.

Lube in your hand you smirk, gaining some confidence back when you hear Gojo hiss as the cool gel once again spreads down his fiendish girth that pulses restlessly at your touch. The sensation is all the more agonizing without the latex barrier hindering him as your, your silky smooth palm glided over his bare cock before tugging back the sensitive foreskin covering his crown head.

Licking your lips you almost want to bend down and taste the pre marbling like a pearlescent jewel on his pretty exposed cockhead.

He’d probably cry like a baby if you did, you mused with a grin.

Good God girl snap out of it!

You chastise yourself—no, you had to focus and end this quickly before you lost your mind. The idea of fucking Gojo beyond what he could buy for you started to get more appealing and you couldn’t allow that.

Readying yourself to mount him this time you realize your pussy is quivering in anticipation of the stretch—it was uncomfortable last time so—why was your body reacting this way?

Your own pussy betraying you as she seemed to yearn for the opportunity to gobble him up, taking him in with less resistance in spite of you. Flexing around the thick intrusion inside your core you shiver in feeling the curve of every vein on his girthy cock as you lowered yourself onto him.

The way your pussy flexed as a jolt of electricity ran through you scared you—a new sensation bubbling up inside, threatening to make you lose yourself in the feeling. Must be survival instincts you rationed—your cunt scared for its life never having encountered such an acute danger like Gojo’s dick before.

The burn was pleasurable this time, sucking in sharp breaths at every slight movement of him moving inside your core. Yet Gojo is in even more bliss—from the serpentine motion of your hips cascading over his own to how your your puffy pussy lips looked so wonderfully parted, stretched open around his cock—FUCK!

How was he going to complete his plan if his brain just started turning to mush everytime your dangerously succulent cunt grinded against him.

“O–ooo shiiiiiit!”

“Y-You okay, Bunny?”

Although Gojo himself looked like he was in agony his face was reddening from how good your raw gummy walls were surging around his length.

“Hhnng, fine Toru—y’er j-just big.”

Gravity was your natural enemy in this scenario and you took him a bit past halfway this time.

Wanting to distract you, his large hands grope your tits but you knock him away—your stomach fluttering.

“What's wrong, this time?”

“...s’n-nothing, it’s—just put your hands on my hips, it helps me so my legs don't get tired.”

You lied.

Well your legs were quivering but more pressingly your heart started to race and you didn't know if it was because a cock like this could actually relocate your uterus to your lungs or if you’d actually started catching something similar to romantic feelings for Gojo Satoru.

Either one was unacceptable in your book.

“Hurry up and cum, Toru!”

However Gojo is about to say something, your phone rings.

“I-Its Utahime…”

“Don’t answer Bunny! Focus or you’re never going to cum!”

“I can multitask, Toru! Besides, on the small chance I do I know it's definitely going to take longer than the two minutes you lasted before.”

Hushing Gojo’s protests and eyes flaring at him to be silent, you answer the call.

“Bunny!”

“Hime!”

You greeted each other with your usual peppiness—like Gojo wasn’t 6 and a half inches deep with 2 and half more to go—give or take—inside you.

“What’s up? Oh erm, what am I doing—”

A sly and haughty smile plays on his lips and you scowl at him.

“—I’m still at Gojo’s and no—I’m not doing much at all right now! Haha—yeah. I can definitely talk, of course!”

Gojo frowns as his eyes narrow and to placate him you start half heartedly rotating your hips.

You still looked sexy as hell though. Even with less effort expended it was still a workout as shown by the sheen of perspiration glowing off your body. That delectable sight combined with the light swaying of your tiddies was more than enough for him to cum if he just focused on himself.

But he was determined not to this time, not until you had.

“See Toru? They were helping Shoko’s parents!”

You stick out your tongue and he makes a face back at you.

“Oh what?—s’nothing—Ha! Well ok! He said you were too busy bumping pussies to go to the mall with me! Psh—typical am I rite? Huh—put you on speaker? LOL O-OKAY.”

Snitch!

Gojo mouths to you offended you’d rat him out like this as Utahime’s voice shrills through the phone.

“Satoru you loser! You have to talk about our pussies cause you could never have one of your own in a million years!”

Snorting with laughter Gojo is more than amused.

If only they knew.

You pale signaling at him to ‘STFU’ or he could finish himself off.

“Aww, is that so Utahime? I’m so hurt.”

The mischief in Gojo’s voice is obvious—he’s clearly mocking you.

Annoyed with him getting the upper hand and feeling sassy, you pile on—

“Exactly Hime! I mean he might get some—but a total otaku like him wouldn’t know what to do with a pussy if he even ever got in—EEP!”

A heavy handed smack comes down on your ass—hard.

The force ripples its way into your cunt causing you to feverishly tighten as your tongue pushes a low moan out between your lips.

“Oh ho ho—what's this? You actually like getting spanked huh, Bunny? You dirty, dirty girl…”

Gojo is whispering again before his hand once more swats at that same cheek.

The sting causes saliva to pool in the corners of your mouth.

If looks could kill Gojo would have died a horrible death—that is if you could focus enough to even glare at him. You’re absolutely mortified—too consumed by the spanks that fiercely rained down on your reddening bottom, your pussy getting shamelessly wetter with every hit.

“AH–FAHHH—”

“Bunny! What’s happened?!”

You hear Shoko’s concerned voice this time.

“N-N-Nothing, G-Gojo’s being mean to me cause I told on him! H-He pinched me so hard Shoko!”

“Liar!”

Gojo mouths again and his demeanor turns absolutely devilish.

Oh? So that's how you wanted to continue to play?

You were such a brat sometimes but then again so was he and his competitive nature soared at the challenge.

“Oh did I? Like this, Bunny?”

Gojo’s palms cup your tits roughly before he pinches them, twisting your nipples causing the slobber that collected to dribble down your chin and onto your chest.

“Shiiii—T-Toru! S-STOP YOU A-AHHH–SSHOLE!!”

The grip his thumb and forefingers have on your sensitive buds intensifies and you can barely keep the phone in your grasp as you hold it out arm extended to keep your cries from being heard.

With only one hand free there’s no way for you to worm nor pry his hands from your tits as you are still struggling not to sink lower and choke on your own tongue from the electrifying sensations assaulting your cunt.

This couldn’t be what it was like could it? This overwhelming feeling?

You didn’t want to admit it but as tear-inducing as the sensations were—they felt real fucking good.

Your hips began involuntary rocking as your core now craved how Gojo’s cock scraped against your walls like it was trying to carve itself even deeper inside you if you’d let your hips drop just a little bit lower.

“Toru! Stop picking on our Bunny! Don’t make us come over there and kick your ass!”

The sweat that now runs down Gojo’s brow threatens to blur his vision but he’s locked in and focused. The phone situation being so fucking raunchy combined with the way your pussy is creaming on him (despite you trying your hardest not to feel good) has him stressed.

Swallowing he had to try hard to keep up the act as well as please you without cumming—it would be a feat if he accomplished it to say the very least.

God, this was all so shamefully vulgar.

Did you do this on purpose answering the phone?

He didn’t even know this was a kink of his—or yours apparently.

But your “problem” was now clear to Gojo:

It’s not that you couldn’t cum, it’s just that you were scared to cum.

Any real stimulation triggered your fight or flight.

You were perfectly capable, you just needed a bit of forcefulness—however the effect of it terrified you and you bolted from it every time you had sex with someone—until now.

Heh, there would be no more running from the nut for his little bunny rabbit.

Gojo wonders how far into his ecchi depravity he can take you.

“Your Bunny, huh?”

Gojo's eyes squinted as if he could stare down Shoko and Utahime through the phone.

You were his.

He was the one who was going to make you cum and frankly he didn’t give a fuck anymore if Shoko or Utahime heard it—in fact he wanted them too.

Planting his feet into the bed, Gojo’s form shifts as he swiftly grips your waist simultaneously bringing you down while driving his pelvis up—pummeling his entire length into your guts. The prickly patch of groomed hair at his base tickles your poor abused lil’ clit which had been forcibly nestled into them—the result of being smashed against his pubic bone.

“FUHCCCK—MUTHERFUHH—SHHHH–HIIIIIT!!!”

Vision momentarily blacked out and burning with tears mixed with your running mascara, your pussy still reeling from the sheer magnitude of Gojos long girthly length now all the way sheathed and practically tearing through your womb. Your eyes are firmly lodged in the back of your head, the electrifying vibrations cause you to drop the phone entirely. Your world is spinning from experiencing your first small orgasm that only increased intensity as your efforts to escape Gojo are in vain.

Your cervix is screaming at the probing intrusion of his bulbous tip ramming so far up into you but Gojo has you anchored to him unable to flee from his onslaught of thrusts.

If you could string together a coherent thought you would have wondered if in fact your stomach had been relocated next to your lungs as you felt so full you couldn’t breathe.

Your pussy violently spasms around his girth, creamy fluids seeping down onto his base from your cunt sloshing around him. Gojo grips your cheeks spreading you wider increasing the squelching noises echoing from your cunt.

Shit though, Gojo thinks your perfect pussy might actually break his dick off from how fervently you were clenching him.

Tongue fully lolled out of your mouth, you’re grasping onto Gojo’s shoulders for stability as your saliva drips down his pectorals.

“BUNNY!! Are you still there?? What’s that noise?”

Shoko and Utahime’s calls for you go unanswered. Gojo on the other hand is grinning, albeit through gritted teeth, pleased at how his long trunk-like cock is rendering you nonverbal.

“Hehe, you definitely came a bit that time didn’t ya—ya nasty lil’ Bunny, don’t lie.”

“N-N-Nooo T-Toru–s’like I-I c-can’t breathe—”

“Heh, a’course you can baby Bun—that's what it feels like when you cum, even I know that.”

SMACK!

Another firm smack to your ass has your cunt quivering wildly.

You feel like the virgin in this situation now—and honestly—are you not?

Did those other dicks really count?

It felt like you were having sex for the first time as this was a totally different experience even from the earlier round with Gojo.

“Don’t worry though, now that I know what kinda shit you’re into—I’mma take care of that pervy lil’ princess pussy sooo good, Bunny.”

Oh god—That couldn’t be true could it?

Spanking? Nipple twisting? Having your insides pushed up to your throat?

You didn’t actually like this kinda freaky shit did you?

Yet your body’s reactions remain true even if your mind doesn't want to accept the cause of the fire that is burning within you. Your pussy is in raptures at the feeling of being molded into the exact shape of Gojo’s cock—veins and all.

“HELLLOOOOO BUNNY!!!!”

Absolutely pleased with himself Gojo retrieves the phone.

“Awe p-poor thing, just stubbed her toe runnin’ from me. My—SHIII–room is—FUHHH—k-kinda a m-mess—S-See? I almost tripped just now too. Isn’t that right Bunny?”

Gojo brings the phone closer and you bat it away wishing he would just hang up and spare you the humiliation. Although humiliation seemed to be your new kink as mirroring his earlier actions as you’re pathetically moaning into his skin. Gojo’s masculine scent, mingled with the salty aroma of perspiration, floods your senses, making you feel even more lightheaded, increasing the sloshing of his cock buried deep in your cunt.

The crude noises that rang from your bodies squelching and slapping against each other renders Gojo unable to keep up the charade either. Making up a quick excuse—he has to go get ice for your toe—he quickly hangs up on Shoko and Utahime whose puzzled protests of concern he couldn’t give a single fuck about anymore.

God fucking you while on the phone with them was so fucking hot, he’d have to get you to do it again—maybe with Suguru next time, he’d probably even be into it.

“Hey B-Bunny—y-you think Shoko and Hime were naked too?”

You groan.

This fucking hentai otaku perv—you already told him that they were helping Shoko’s parents!

You want to glare, scream, chastise, get up—but you can’t—you’re at the mercy of him ruthlessly drilling up into your cunt and can only heave out tired mewls in reply.

“Fuuuck–imma cum again soon! Do you feel the way your naughty lil’ cunt is squeezing like she wants to wring me dry, wan’t me to give it all to your pussy Bunny?”

“N-Not i-inside m’pussy, T-Toru!”

A devious smirk appears.

Heh, yeah he promised not inside your pussy.

Without warning Gojo rips his cock out from your sopping core and manhandles you onto your back. Thinking he will simply cum outside somewhere you're finally able to breathe again and you exhale—only to feel his monstrous length being shoved down your throat.

Your eyes shoot open.

Greeted with the image of Gojo's heavy balls in your face, his ball hairs tickle your nose as you gag around his girth straining your throat open wide. You think if he didn’t reach your lungs through your guts he certainly would now that he’s eight and a half inches down your esophagus.

“You said i couldn’t cum in your pussy Bunny, so let’s use that pretty lil’ mouth pussy instead—sweet fuck, ya know she’s almost tighter than your actual cunt.”

Your hands fly to the outside of his thighs pawing over the sweat glossed skin as you drag your nails down them, leaving welts in an effort to get him to ease up. The potent musk of your shared lust that had dripped down his balls was now rubbing on your face assaulting your senses.

It was fucking nasty, so gross and yet your own pussy betrayed you—burning with an ache to be filled again at the smells that stimulated your own primal hedonistic urges.

“Awe, don’t be like that. I know you like it rough, yeah? I haven’t forgotten about you either baby.”

Gojo of course at this point isn’t talking to you but your cunt.

With one hand squeezing your already constricted airway, Gojo’s other snaked its way over your body and reeling it back before delivering a mean open palmed slap to your clit.

The sound of your soaked cunt echoed through his room and he almost came from that alone as your fluids trickled out of you faster, further soiling his expensive sheets.

“This pussy likes being spanked more than those cherry cheeks of yours huh, Bunny? I know my filthy hentai pussy does.”

You’re obviously unable to answer but the way you’re gurgling moans around his cock lets him know this is exactly what you like. Thrusting two thick fingers into your quivering core his burly appendages bullied themselves in as far as they could go.

“You know—G-God, FUCK you’re tight—Bunny, you know I read in an h-manga how girls can squirt from a lack of air and a little bit of prodding, s’ppose—S-SHIII—t’be something in here that sends em absolutely wild.”

Fingers searching deeper it's not until Gojo pulls back to add a third that he scrapes past a firm spongy spot that has your legs buckling.

Astonished by the amazingly sexy reactions of your body—Gojo’s eyes are blown out wide over how much your clit swells, your hole twitches and your juices spurt out of you as your tears run over your cheeks to wet his balls further. Gojo doesn’t even need to thrust as your throat tightens around him like crazy with him jamming his fingers into that particular spot over and over.

Lost in your own ecstasy you’re proven wrong as contrary to your belief you thought his otaku sex-ed would be to his detriment to his skills. However it's exactly because of all of the lecherous and depraved shit he collected and consumed did he know exactly what to do to you now that got you all messed up. Eyes lodged into your skull, squirting and practically blacking out with his dick stuffed down your throat on his long dexterous fingers abusing your cunt.

“SHIIIIIIT—”

With a keen grunt Gojo cums, pumping loads of viscous fluid down your throat forcing you to gorge on his thick cum.

“F-Fuck Bunny are you a throat goat? M-Milked me dry...”

He’s still driving his pliable fingers in and out of you, his arms are shaking from his own orgasm but he doesn’t care. Nothing on earth could stop him from replicating the beautiful sight of your pretty lil’pussy spurting out juices that run all the way down his forearm.

“…heh, looks like I can milk you too, Bunny.”

Gojo finally dislodges his dick out of your throat but still runs a hand through your pussy folds to rub soothing circles on your clit. You whimper through your coughs as you spit up some of his cum, still gagging after what were mere minutes but seemed like hours of choking on his beefy cock.

Vision spotty, tremors run through your body—both ends so thoroughly fucked out—that it doesn’t register that Gojo is once again lifting your body bringing you towards the edge of the bed.

If you thought Gojo was going to give you aftercare from having used your body like one of his anime fleshlights, you’d be correct—but not before one last round.

Lifting your hips off his luxe bed Gojo positions your wobbly legs on his shoulders. His eyes are blown out and crazed with his own twisted perversion. Weakened and spent himself as cock twitched from overstimulation but he’s never been a quitter—determined to make you cum again and again before one of you finally passes out.

Your toes wiggle and you keen as his tongue ravenously dips between your toes. Trailing his tongue past the arch of your foot to bite your heel.

“You’re so fucking sexy, Bunny—the best pussy in the whole world, how could you ever think she was broken? You were just waiting for me to use her huh?”

“S-shut up–Toru, j-jeez…”

Your windpipes had been fucked raw and you’re croaking which to your dismay only seems to turn Gojo on more and he’s tapping his tender engorged cockehead on your clit. Your brows pinch together as you bite back moans from his frenulum catching and chafing so wonderfully over your clitoral hood.

“Puhleaseeee, Honey Bunny! Let me fuck you a bit more now that we know you are as ecchi coded as I am, m’kay my pervy princess?”

The very thought shames you and you think your heart might seize from embarrassment if it doesn’t give out from pleasure first and your heart feels like it might beat out of your chest chest from all the pet names Gojo is bestowing upon you.

“Toru…”

You try to reason with him through your defeated huffs as you press your legs shut together.

“...y-you made me cum from your fingers n’ your cock.. Y-You won. Pleaseee—I-I don’t even think I can cum any more.”

Not convinced Gojo pushes your legs back.

“Oh, is that right? Let’s ask her then!”

Gojo delivers another smack onto your slippery pussy as if on the command of her new owner your obedient cunt immediately leaks a bit more creamy slick onto his palm.

“See, baby? She says you can though and that she’s tired of you running from it Bunny—”

Still hugging your legs together in his grasp, Gojo lowers himself to rub his cheek against your pussy like it was his favorite pillow.

“Don’t fret my pervy lil’ pussy I won't let Bunny deprive you any longer from what you really need.”

You groan yet Gojo is more gentle this time as he gingerly rolls you onto your belly and lifts your hips to slide his giant Agumon pillow underneath.

Urgh, did it have to be this one!?

There's no time for complaints though once Gojo spreads your cheeks wide. A glob of spit hits your crack as his thumb prods against your shy puckering rear hole while he humps his cock between the fat of your thighs through your soggy swollen folds.

“Shiiit imma fuck this tight lil’ bunny hole next time baby, m’kay?”

The threat causes you to shudder yet all your back talk and sass is gone from his illicit preparations as he elicits heady mewls from your hoarse throat. Your cunt flutters eagerly to have him fill you again as his fingers imprint themselves into your bottom.

The anticipation is so intense as bracing for his size ripping through you you nearly fail to notice Gojo is now humming to himself—humming—THE DIGIMON CHAMPIONS THEME SONG!?

OH HE HAD YOU ALL THE WAY FUC—

—And suddenly you’re screaming again, eyes glued to the back of your skull as his hips jerk forward, drilling his dick past your walls to pound directly into your cervix with the tempo of a madman.

OH FUCK! …s’good!

You finally surrender letting your cunt control your brain as you throw ass back to meet his frenzied thrusts. Like a drug addict from the first real taste your pussy is already addicted to the feeling of his cock destroying you.

“S’toru–S’toru–S’toru–FUHHHHCK!”

His name fell from your lips like a mantra, the only word your brain—now thoroughly fucked smoothed—could remember.

The sight of you chasing your own pleasure as your ass slammed back onto his pelvis, your skin rippling as it bounced and splashed frothy fluids onto his abs sent him further into perverse degeneracy.

“F-Fuck Bunny—baby, this pussy too good—We can’t tell Suguru for a while, kay? He’ll want to fuck you too and this pussy is just f’me. Suguru gets all the pussy s’tell me you’ll keep yours f’er me. Thought you were broken but you just needed my cock this whole time—”

Burying your face in the sheets bashfully at the mention of Suguru, your cunt pulls more taut around Gojo’s cock.

“—FUHH, g-go out with me yeah, Bunny? Love you s’much—SHIIIIT—buy you whatever you want—t-take you where you want—this dick s’yours Bun Bun—all yours!”

Plunging into deeper if it were even possible Gojo’s blunted nails drug into the fat of your ass and hips, it wouldn’t scar but it would certainly add to the inevitable bruising.

“I’ll never even look at a non 2D woman again as long as I have you as my lil’ onahole—shit I’ll never even buy one of those again unless it's in the shape of your pussy—F-FUCK, w-wait–y-you think we could get one made in the shape of your pussy–my girlfriend’s perfect pussy?!”

It’s too much—too overwhelming and your mind is slowly but surely being corrupted by Gojo. Otherwise the image of him whining while fucking a onahole casted from your cunt as he watches you finger yourself would have never in a million years popped into your mind.

Determined to see you unhinged in every respect, Gojo didn’t want to deny you pleasure but if he had to be a little mean to you so you could finally be honest with him then so be it.

Slowly pulling out, your expression is near frantic as you look back at him. Your mouth gaping and babbling nonsensically for him not for him to stop—you were so close.

Gojo simpers, relishing in your cute cockdrunk face scrunched with confusion from him pulling out so suddenly.

“W-Words baby, c’mon I just spilled my heart out here!”

Your pussy weeps longingly for Gojo’s cock as your body shakes with a yearning begging to be filled again.

God help you, you want him.

You want him and his sinfully curved demon dick badly, it’s all you could think about—Not even remembering what life was like before he so perversely rearranged your guts. However, not only did he know how to hit all your spots, he knew you—and despite him completely disregarding all of the rules you had initially set, he was the first guy who actually cared about how you felt during sex, even if he was a perverted otaku.

There was simply no use in denying it any longer.

You caved.

Tears streaming down your face as you hiccupped your admission of affections for him, red-faced and flustered.

“S’toru, I-I’ll be your girlfriend—need you n’need your cock s’much—”

Pressing the side of your face against the mattress you bring a shaky hand through your legs, fingers slipping over your slick as you part your pussy lips—your vacant core exposed and fluttering, begging for him just as hard.

“—m’also you’re onahole T-Toru, I promise i’ll only fuck you, j-just please keep fucking me, i wanna cum on your cock, want your cum in me Toru baby!”

You might die from the shame of it all once you sober up from being utterly cockdrunk and stupefied but all you could think about right now was Gojo’s hard dick laying heavy pipe back into your cunt.

Something snaps in Gojo.

Head over heels for you now, Gojo knew from that moment on he’d never let you go.

Real or 2D—no could compare to you in Gojo’s eyes.

Toru finally found something he loved more than digimon—your perfect lil’pussy.

And he was going to show her how much he loved her right now.

Taking what was so graciously presented to him this time around, you’re short circuiting once he’s finally inside you again your most base needs being satiated turning you into a cockfiendish whore crying for him to fuck you harder as you grip his sheets like you could rip them apart.

His strokes become more merciless, unrelenting on your pussy and Gojo leans his weight onto your back, legs bent crouching on top of you, his hips becoming manic they thrashed forward in short heavy thrusts to hammer you into the mattress.

Gojo himself is beyond gone.

Disregarding all promises of mentioning otaku shit while he was wrecking your cunt.

“Fuck bunny this feels better then what I thought Agnewomon’s pussy would be like— you'd look so sexy in that cosplay. Gonna have you dress up for me and show you off at cons. I’ll buy you whatever you want, anything, the whole fucking world yeah? Just fuck—wear those those vibrating panties while you cosplay too, you’d like that?”

You tightened groaning at his debauchery, something that was not missed at all by Gojo who by this point had fucked his own self dumb in your angelic cunt. White strands of his hair stuck to both of your faces as he tiled your head back so he could see how desperately those little hearts danced in your dilated pupils before they were reduced to nothing more than mere splotches whiting out your vision.

“Fuck u really are a slut huh bunny? Tightening at the thought of all those otaku perverts looking at you in that skimpy outfit while I control the buzzing on that lil clit. But they can’t have you—m’the only otaku pervert that knows how to make you cum!”

Delirious with melodic honeyed cries spilling from you, you just wanted him to stop talking—pointing out every single time your body responded to his ecchi tastes becoming your tastes and now just yearning for a taste of him.

Reaching back you’re pulling him down to smash your lips together. Messy, but you could care as Gojo tried to swallow your tongue fucking his own into your mouth with a force that matched his cock. If fucking you was heaven then kissing you was nirvana—he’d give you the whole world if he could keep fucking you like this forever.

Gojo needs you to cum again soon as the feral need breed your tummy until it swells with his seed has him losing the little sanity he even had to begin with. A virgin until today he’d saved up so much waiting for your tight cunt this whole time.

Moving his lips away from yours only for air, your chest heaves harmonies cries from his hand weaving under your bodies. Jittery fingers swiped frantically over your clit, hurling you towards your euphoric climax as his lips descend back upon yours.

“Cum Bunny—I got ya baby.”

Deliberately plowing himself harder against your cervix, your body seizes up releasing tension into pure white energy that you swore was pumping through your every vein as an extension of your pussy as his heavy load spurts to paint your walls and sear your insides as his thrusts continue to swill his seed inside you, pushing it further into your womb—-thank fuck for birth control.

However that was the last thing you remember before you go limp, temporarily blacked out as you swear you’ve transcended to a celestial plane of existence. One where all slutted out souls went to escape from the unearthly pleasure they’ve been tortured by. You don’t know how long you’ve been out but you're squirming as you come back to consciousness. Realizing your now back on your back as your hips involuntarily rocking against something thick and wet.

When you finally manage to open your eyes you're greeted by Gojo tongue slurping at your clit and lapping up the cum oozing out of your battered hole like it was a refreshingly creamy bowl of kakigori. His hands embedded themselves into your thighs pinning them to the bed nibbling on your clit and having your already overstimulated core climaxing on his tongue once more.

Strings of your sticky nectar connect his tongue to your cunt as he looks up at you. Having the audacity to grin lovingly at you as if he didn’t look like a downright starved and deranged man with a sheen of shared fluids dribbling down his chin. He’s pussy drunk once again this time buzzed off the pungent yet sweet taste of his cum marinating in your creamy tenderized cunt.

Gojo is cheesin’ at you like he’s found his favorite spot in the world—and he had as far as he was concerned.

“You said it was too messy, remember Bunny? The least I can do to make it up to you is scoop every drop out of your runny lil’ cunt with my tongue! What kind of boyfriend would I be to have all this cum soaking my Bunny’s slutty little thong and spilling down her thighs while out to dinner—so I decided to have mine a little early.”

FUCKING HELL—DINNER! What time was it?!

Disordented, your head is fuzzy and you could feel the soreness settling in your muscles. You didn’t think you’d be able to get out of this bed in the next 24 hours, let alone make it to dinner—if you hadn’t already missed it!

“Nnnn, n-not like I can go anymore Toru, s’all your f-fault!”

Your bruised lips poke out into pout. Gojo chuckles at you how cute you look and he rises up from between your thick thighs to boop you on the nose as he gazes adoringly at you.

“I know princess m’sorry—I already texted Shoko saying you couldn’t, don’t worry~~”

But your eyes widened as you were now fully worried.

Worried as to what the fuck Gojo actually texted them!

“T-Toru—”

“—I just told them you weren’t feeling well, was that okay?”

Quickly assuaging your fears—you can relax a bit for now (although you were sure you’d have a lot of explaining to do later) as Gojo pulls you to him again and softly kisses your neck, hands returning to your ass to rub soothing circles on your chaffed skin.

Relaxing again floods sleep into your eyes. A welcome godsend honestly, so you can process everything that just happened, especially Gojo aggressively fucking a love confession out of you.

“And m’sorry if I got carried away Bun… but you were so good for me, so fucking perfect! Just relax and I’ll take care of you! I’ll handle everything—for you and your nasty lil’ cunt. I love you both and I’ll keep both my pretty girls happy forever! I promise!”

Gazing at you with cartoonishly sparkling eyes, you have to look away from Gojo lest your ears altogether burn up in embarrassment from his shameless and yet a hundred percent earnest vocalization of affections that somehow still got your heart racing.

“—oh and my parents will be here tomorrow—we can tell them right? They will be so excited! They've been telling me since I was little I shouldn’t let you get away! Ooo! Ooo! Maybe now that we're dating they’ll let us use their sex dungeon! We need to think of a safe word though Bunny—”

Scarcely comprehending anything he is saying to you, your mind like your pussy had been fully liquified. Both ruthlessly corrupted by Gojo’s long otaku cock and pervy ass fantasies which is no surprise seeing as his family even owns a—

HOL’ THE ENTIRE FUCKUP—A SEX DUNGEON!?

Like a shot of caffeine directly into your veins your eyes nearly pop out of your head as you blink at him dumbfounded, mouth hanging open.

“Doesn’t that sound fun, Bunny!? My parents are so cool! When I turned 18 my dad even gave me some of his rare and one-of-a-king hentai figures for my collection to get me started and then—”

Tuning him out you’re gagged at the unexpected revelations—and his parents always seemed like such charming n’ decent God fearing people too. Well known to be ruthless in the business world, but upstanding global philanthropists nonetheless.

Well the apple sure as hell didn’t fall too far from the sordid sex fiend tree, that was for damn sure!

Clearly you had no idea what you were getting yourself into or had unleashed by agreeing to be Gojo’s girlfriend. I mean, could no longer deny your growing feelings for him—plus he did just give you multiple back-breaking-terrifyingly-mind-numbing-earth-shattering-orgasms. Not to mention, you would definitely be getting one of every Hermes bag ever made if you wanted one—but at what cost?

Your Dignity?

Self-respect?

The right to call yourself a functional and contributing non-degenerate member of society?

Who knows really…

Although perhaps dating a Gojo, the next heir at that, you’d be too rich and highly regarded for people to even care (we’ll except for your friends giving y’all hell but you could eventually make peace with that).

You internally groan as the gentle touches on your bottom morph into lustful gropes and you know your brand new boyfriend would not be granting rest for your totally demolished lil’ pussy anytime soon unless you could distract him a bit.

“—Toru, Toru baby listen, please.”

Interrupting him, you muster the energy to put on the sweetest face you can manage in your exhausted state.

And of course, Gojo, as always and yet unknowingly, tests the limits of your tolerance.

“Yes, my whittle Bunny, my kinky baby girl—hentai goddess divine?”

Gojo nuzzles your nose in an eskimo kiss as he showers you with ‘loving compliments’.

Scrunching your face, you grit your teeth through your already weak smile to stop yourself from losing it at him referring to you as ‘hentai goddess divine’—y’all would definitely be having a talk about that as well as appropriate in-public pet names later though.

“Babyyyyy—I’m so sticky and sore, why don’t you be a good boyfriend and get stuff ready for us to take a bath, hm? Maybe find me something else to wear too, hm?”

You did need a bath and you calculated even with his energetic disposition it should take him at least 15-20 minutes to delegate the tasks and get everything together considering how huge his mansion was.

“Oh! Of course, of course! Just wait here! I’ll be right back, my ecchi angel.”

Brow-twitching you sit up to wave at him with another strained smile as he scrambles to put on pants and heads out of his room.

You sigh tiredly and make yourself comfy on his cloud like pillows.

Thinking he’s finally left and you can savor some much needed time to make peace with what you got yourself into by agreeing to be the girlfriend of an otaku nerd like Gojo Satoru—

—when his head suddenly peaks back in the room with a sheepish look on his face.

“Heh, you know Bunny, was thinking—you really didn’t think I could code crack your cute lil’ cunt now did ya?”

Your eyes are closed but your fists are balling angrily gripping onto the pillows surrounding you.

“Don’t worry Bunny, yours is the only pussy my dick is digidestined for!”

With that, Gojo narrowly avoids the Agumon pillow plushie that is swiftly hurled at his head as he dashes away from the door, his merry yet hysterical laughter echoing through the halls.

©blkkizzat 2024. do not steal works or gfx, do not translate.

⏭ a/n: this fic was wayyyy too long but i've been kinda mean to y'all gojo glazers lately rejoicing in your sorrows cause you are now miserable like the rest of us lmfao, so consider this y'alls bone :P tbh im kinda surprised this is the first full gojo fic i've written lol, it was fun tho cause otaku!gojo is a freak for pussy would drive you insane in all the right and wrong ways. i still have invisible man gojo and ceo/professor gojo planned tho (plus that frat boy satosugu request).

eta: serieslist

reblogs and comments are my life's blood ty ᥫ᭡ .ᐟ

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themirokai · 2 years ago

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I got this comment on a story from my Other AO3 Account this morning.

(Info redacted because I prefer keeping these accounts separate but no one follows me on the side blog I have for that account.)

The story was posted almost a year ago and is relatively “popular” by my average statistics even though it has tropes and themes that are big turnoffs for a lot of people (hence separate accounts). This popularity is undoubtedly because it’s a Marvel Loki story and that fandom is massive.

So there is obviously an algorithm or a bot scrubbing ao3 statistics and leaving this comment on fics that meet a certain metric with the main character of the fic inserted into the comment.

I had a little time to kill this morning so I decided to investigate further. And y’all this is so predatory. Come on this journey with me. It made me mad. It may make you mad.

First, if you go to Webnovel’s website, you HAVE to choose between male lead or female lead stories before you can go any further. WTF?

And that’s weird, but this gets so much worse. This is basically a pay-to-read site that has different subscription models. Which… okay BUT! The authors don’t get paid! Look at that comment again. They’re promising a supportive and nurturing community, but zero monetary compensation. It’s basically, “post your stuff here so we can get paid and you can get… nice vibes?” I mean look at this Orwellian writing:

Using the phrase “pay-to-read model” in the same sentence as “qualitative changes in lifestyles for authors” deliberately makes you think that you can get paid and maybe even make a living on this website. But that’s not actually what it says and authors will not receive one red cent.

Oh but wait, the worst is still to come. In case this breaks containment (which I kind of hope it does) this is where I mention that I’m a lawyer in the US.

I don’t do intellectual property or copyright law but I do read and write contracts for a living. So I went to look at their terms of service. It was fun!

Highlights the first, in which Webnovel gets a license to do basically whatever they want with content you post on their site. This is how they get to be paid for people reading authors’ writing without paying them anything.

Highlights the second, in which Webnovel takes no responsibility for illegally profiting off of fan fic. This all says that the writer is 100% responsible for everything the writer posts (even though only Webnovel is making money from it).

Highlights the third which say that by posting, the author is representing that they have the legal right to use and to let Webnovel use the content according to these terms. So if a writer posts fan fiction and Webnovel makes money from people reading the fan fiction, and the House of the Mouse catches wise, these sections say that that’s ALL on the writer.

So that’s a little skeevy to start off with but the thing that is seriously shitty and made me make this post was that these assholes are coming to ao3. They are actively recruiting people in comments on their fan fiction. And they are saying they are big fans of the character you’re writing about and that they share your interests.

They are recruiting fan fiction writers and giving every impression that you can make money from posting fan fiction on their site and hiding the fact that you absolutely cannot but they can make money off of you while you try, deep in their terms of service which no one but a lawyer who writes fan fic and has some time to kill will read.

I see posts on here regularly from people who don’t understand how this stuff works, don’t understand that they (and others) can not legally make a financial profit from fan fiction. And there are tons of people who will not take the time to dig into the details.

Don’t deal with these bastards. Fuck Webnovel.

#went down a rabbit hole #got mad #webnovel #this is a scam #how to ao3 #fan fiction #please spread the word #long post #50k

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mourndust · 11 days ago

Note

hihi!! I can’t figure out if you’re accepting requests or not, however, could you write for Vi x Reader, except reader is really, really tight? Like, a slow sex fic. Love making! I don’t see enough gentle fics.

𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅ cherry waves.

side notes — thank you for this anon, i’ll never forget you, i tried this to be kind and nice, so it is mostly? but i'm also a dirty slut at the same time so it gets tiny bit rougher by the end my bad, collage au, formal fuckgirl!vi now on a leash. masterlist.

18+ mdni, men dni, this is pure fluff and porn without plot? hell yeah, use of strap-on, dirty talk, fingering, soft!dom vi, praising, tight + bottom afab reader, vi is folded tbh — english is not my first language, any mistake let it be i won't care, comments, reblogs and likes are loved literally tell me your thoughts talk to me,, 1.6k

“shh— it’s okay,” the pleasant sound of her voice sends shivers down your spine as she presses soft kisses in your naked shoulder, breathing in the scent of your skin. the hoop of her nose piercing dragging across the moles she had learned by memory, the marks you utterly hate yet she finds so fucking attractive. “it's okay sweetheart, i got you.”

patience.

it's a struggle since she's so bad at it. trying her best cause she really really likes you, so indulging to your needs every time. it’s a big issue to restrain herself from taking you just the way she wants to, preparing your pretty pink hole to have her so deep inside, you won’t even notice where you begin and she ends, where limits finally erase and you’re melting in her embrace.

her fingers curl inside, and the sound you make tickles a part of her brain, that sultry whine, the dryness of your voice as she pushes and pushes until she's knuckles deep and she's so fucking close to you she can smell the lavender in your shampoo, the taste of your sweat in her tongue — "are you okay? talk to me baby."

she's so kind even when she's from mere seconds to lose it. gentle as she keeps you pressed against her bare torso "yes-yes, i'm good" you let your girlfriend know, burying your head against the pillows — "keep stretching me out vi, please."

she's such a sucker for it. when you start talking so bluntly about your needs and she stays silent for a bit, letting the weight of your words sink in her skull for a second. you clench around her digits and she’s so happy to give you just what you asked for, let her ring and middle finger rub against that spot she's well aware you're fond of by now, the same that makes you arch your back pressing your ass against the strap.

"that's it suck me in," it's such a sight vi could cum by just looking, giving yourself to her like a damn gift. "stretching out so good for my cock baby, fuck- you're doing so well for me."

she knows what she's doing. towering over you, talking against your ear as she finger fucks you into plain madness. arousal gathers on the palm of her hand and you roll your hips against vi's fingers, mumbling about how good she feels already, how you're sure you can take her, all pink cheeks and heavy breathing making her mind go blank.

violet’s fingers withdraw and you gasp at the hollow in your insides, spreading yourself wider to her view, to call her in, make her fuck you again until you're not sure about your own name: stop being unfair. yet, despite all annoyance, you cannot find time to complain when she’s grabbing your leg up in her arm, angling you to her liking.

obscene.

"you're always so sensitive, fucking hell-" vi curses under her breath, hips rocking against you now as she holds the base of the purple cock to rub it against your folds, teasing your entrance in a steady pace, wet, sloppy kisses being etched in the skin of your back almost in a soothing way. "let me fuck you," she asks you soon after, muscles flexing as she keeps you still, pushing the strap against your cunt — "gonna be gentle baby i promise, 'gonna be whatever you need me to be."

"vi-" you breathe out, and she's holding you at this point cause shit, you're a fucking mess, barely saying more than two-word sentences.

"let me fuck you, please" the pink haired begs once again. "you put on this nice set for me, took my fingers s'good. let me make you cum in my cock."

now, she's not usually right, but this time? vi hits the spot cause you did buy a shameful new set of underwear, you did wear it even when you're a complaining bitch always whining about being so tight, about your constant struggle to take her, how she has to use you like a damn toy if you wanted to be fucked until you got a noise complain, stretched out slowly.

when you nod however, it's like she's granted permission to rule the world.

"i got you pretty girl," vi says, leaving a soft kiss over your temple as her fingers take the already lubricated strap to your slippery entrance, forcing just the tip in — the intrusion however, makes your body tense as her lips leave a path of soothing kisses in your shoulders, breathing right next to you, holding you as close as possible — "get used to me baby, m'not moving."

and yes she's such a sucker for it. for the way your legs shake in her arm cause you lose control of them so quickly, pushing her hips slightly forwards again, the loud sound you make as she sinks in just enough. delicious. you make room for her, the skin of your back pressing just right against her chest, the friction of your spasms hitting in vi’s pierced nipples.

it’s so fucking good. she never gets over it, never find it boring — you’re making such an effort in taking her deeper she has to praise you cause you’re halfway through it now and vi loves to see that smile on your face, the fact you’re having a great time with her, your greedy hole sucking her cock in, relaxed now, insanely pliable.

“tell me when it feels good,” she says, looking down at you through half lidded eyes, an explanation of why her words are slurring together in the air as she talks you through it. “can you do that? so i can fuck you properly.”

patience.

violet didn’t even think about cockwarming until she has to stay there every time, filling your tight little cunt over and over again. she thrives now on the idea of keeping you full, how you must be clenching round the strap as you struggle to get used to the size of it.

“want me to stop?” she's so filthy by that point, looking down to notice how the strap is now covered by your arousal, lubricating down to the fabric of the harness on her hips. in all reality, she's asking so she can get an answer from you, hear how fucked she has you by now by the tone of your voice.

"no," you reply. "no, i can take it vi, please- need you inside."

god she’s so fucking patient in these times she should get a prize, sinking in painfully slow until there’s no room for more and she’s fully inside, balls hitting on your clit, teeth bitting to leave a mark in your shoulder you’re totally unaware of: patience.

"you look so pretty full of me," she whispers, and it's so intimate, the lack of space between you both, the sweat that makes your skin glow under the warm lights of your dorm — she angles your face up to kiss you, swallowing your whimpers as she moves beneath you, a gentle pace at first to see how'd you react. "that's my girl. breathe."

it only takes you a couple of minutes, overly enjoying her gentle touch, her way of taking care of you; soft bites in your neck, kisses over your shoulders, how her arms surround you as they hugged you, cause after that vi's moving faster, sloppier cause she's sure she's damaged at that point, malfunctioning at her worst.

she picks up her pace relentless, and your moans mixes well with her own, that need that pours on her stomach making vi's vision cloudy as her hips pistons until you can hear that clap filling each space of the room. her fingers rub against your clit in tight circles, matching her intense movements cause fuck — it's almost lame to admit she's so sensitive already it only takes friction to make her cum and squeeze around nothing but the view she has of you melting in her.

you shake as you cum, arousal gushing out even when she's still plunged deep in you, coating your tights as she keeps you spread, fucking you through it only to get you to that point of damn of insanity.

"feel better?" she asks after, and it's an understatement that makes you blush, almost laughing as you began to remember how to fucking breathe at that point — "looks like you enjoyed yourself, huh?"

"shut up," it's useless even try to defend you, cause you're leaning into her seeking for her warmth, even when she probably smells funny and is sticky. "i did enjoyed myself very much. thank you vi."

you're so fucking cute it's like a dagger to the chest to take, and it's weird cause vi craves this attention, how your heart beats right against her, to be close to you at the end of the day, not questioning anything as your body just fits against hers. silent and shared trust.

even when she might suck a little by saying it she's damn good at showing you at least, madly good when her hand slips against your neck and she's suddenly gripping it tightly, hips moving only to sink in deeper inside your cunt — "you're so open already, can you feel that? think m'gonna have to fuck you again."

and you giggle looking up to her like a fucking deadly sin, asking for more like a greedy, greedy slut, so deep down vi knows it, but it's really late to avoid it when she realizes she carries you like a tattoo right under the ink already on her cheek, squeezing your neck, pushing you against the mattress this time cause you can take it now.

all the pleasure always comes in cherry waves, you dig it now more than ever.

#18+ mdni #arcane #arcane au #arcane smut #arcane x reader #wlw smut #arcane drabbles #smut #vi smut #vi lol #violet arcane #vi x reader #vi arcane #vi x you #vi league of legends #arcane league of legends #vi arcane x reader #vi drabble #vi x fem reader

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spencerreidenjoyer · 8 months ago

Text

addicted to you | spencer reid x reader

Spencer isn’t inclined to be affectionate with you. He’s a socially awkward germaphobe, and you’re perfectly fine with it. However, being three months into your relationship, you can’t help but want more. Once Spencer gets a taste, he wants more too. A lot more.

part 1 | part 2 - insatiable

wc: 6.1k, rating: explicit/18+

tags/warnings: established relationship, first times, virgin!spencer, early seasons spencer, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering praise kink, morning wood, morning sex, sex in unconventional places (like, not in public but not the bed lol), cunnilingus, creampie, implied multiple orgasms

a/n: no excuse for this insane fic but i was strangely inspired by a post i saw on twitter that i wanted to put a lighthearted (and horny) spin on. i definitely felt crazy writing this and i feel crazy posting this now so i sure hope you enjoy this insanity! (p.s you can also find this fic on ao3!)

You don’t mind that Spencer isn’t touchy. You understand, with Spencer being a germaphobe and a little socially awkward, that he isn’t inclined to kisses on the cheek or holding your hand. You’ve only been dating for three months, and he’s already getting better at doing these things, which makes your heart sing.

Spencer is sweet, willing to do whatever it takes to make you happy. He used to shy away from your touch, but he’s gotten more comfortable with you. He lets you hold his hand when you’re out on a date, or he’ll kiss you chastely out in public. He lets you drape yourself over him when you’re sitting on the couch together watching a show, his arm around your waist to pull you in close.

While you can understand Spencer’s hesitance towards public displays of affection, due to his awkwardness and anxieties about germs, you’re surprised he hasn’t initiated anything more in the privacy of his apartment (or yours). You’re starting to itch for it, something more, your attraction to Spencer Reid simply too overwhelming for it to simply be sweet and innocent anymore. Your body craves him desperately, because he’s so lovely and so fucking handsome. You’ve caught yourself staring at his hands more than once.

Tonight, you decide you’ll get what you want. You’re going to fuck Spencer Reid.

With your head buried in his shoulder during movie night, your hand runs down his body, getting dangerously close to his crotch – he jumps up off the couch, almost comedic, and stares at you like your touch had burned him. He looks positively freaked out.

“Spencer,” you say, very confused that he’s not into this. What kind of man doesn’t like his girlfriend initiating sex? Hell, what kind of man doesn’t like sex?

“I just–” Spencer pauses, like he’s struggling to find the words. “I can’t. Not right now, I–”

“Hey, it’s okay.” You assure him. “We don’t have to. Ever, if that’s what you want.”

His eyes widen again. “No! I want to, just– It’s difficult, right now.”

You cock your head slightly. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Spencer frowns slightly, seeming to know that talking about it is the most rational thing to do, but it’s not like that makes him want to do it. “Well, I– I’ve never done it before.”

Your mouth falls open, just a little, and you look up at him. While you don’t mean to judge, it certainly isn’t surprising. Spencer was fourteen when he was starting university, and his general awkward demeanour and extreme nerdiness would likely rule out any sexual encounters for him during his time in college. Spencer’s line of work would clearly make it difficult for him to maintain a relationship – you definitely lucked out with getting to date him – and he’s too much of a softie for one night stands. So, Spencer Reid being a virgin at twenty-seven definitely checks out.

“That’s okay,” you say softly. “It’s totally normal.”

Spencer’s lips press into a thin line. “Well, you know it took me a while to get used to being affectionate with you, so I think–”

“Being intimate with someone else is going to be a hurdle you’ll need time to cross, too?”

Spencer looks up at you, eyes wet, looking at you like you’ve read him like an open book. He whispers, “Yeah.”

“That’s okay,” you repeat, even though you’re trying to come to terms with the fact that you’re not going to fuck Spencer Reid tonight. “I’ll– We’ll take it slow, if you want to try.”

“Yes, please.” He has a small smile on his lips as he looks up at you. “I– We could try doing something tonight, too. I just– I wasn’t expecting it earlier. I’m sorry for pushing you off like that.”

You shake your head, reassuring him that you aren’t offended by it by any means. Then, you ask, “You’re sure you want to try? Tonight?”

Spencer nods, as he reaches for your hand. He holds it gently, resting it on his thigh. “Yeah. I haven’t– It’s been a long time since I’ve been with someone, but I want to, with you.”

You lean in to kiss his cheek gently. “I’m glad you trust me.”

His eyes are soft and syrupy when he meets your gaze. “Of course I trust you.”

You squeeze Spencer’s thigh before pressing your lips to his, the familiarity of kissing Spencer making you both ease up a little more. Your kiss is gentle, sweet, just like every other kiss you've shared, but you let your hand slide up his thigh as you kiss him, and you can feel Spencer tensing up under your touch. You squeeze his thigh to reassure him, and you feel Spencer wriggle underneath where you're leaning your body weight on him to loosen up.

Your hand skirts over his crotch, a hardness under your palm that makes you feel somewhat proud of yourself. Spencer’s breathing is heavy as he keeps kissing you, and keeps letting you touch him. You think he’s so cute. You just want to make him feel good.

You push the waistband of his sweats down, tugging him out of his pants. His cock is the same shade of red as his cheeks, his shyness turning you on extremely.

He doesn’t look down at himself, where you’re holding him – instead, his eyes are intently focused on your face. You don’t push him about it, instead leaning forward to kiss him as you start to stroke his cock.

This time, it feels desperate. Spencer kisses you with more fervour, like a fire’s been lit within him, the pleasure running through his veins almost like liquid courage as he kisses you deeply. You’re more than happy to be doing this, letting Spencer lick into your mouth while you jerk him off. You appreciate the weight of him in your hand, imagining him inside of you – but perhaps you’re getting ahead of yourself.

“You can touch me, Spence,” you say, in between Spencer kissing you fervently. His hands have been cupping your face, but otherwise he seems awkward with them. You pull back slightly, and while it’s adorable that he’s still holding your face sweetly, you drag his hands down to your chest, in the oversized t-shirt you’d stolen from Spencer’s drawer. “Like this.”

Spencer’s large hands cup your breasts through the shirt perfectly. He squeezes tentatively. You bite your lip as his palms brush over your nipples, as he manhandles you just a little. It’s more force than you’re used to from Spencer, kneading and squeezing and feeling you, and that makes your head spin.

Daringly, Spencer’s hands slip under your shirt, as he leans back in to kiss you. You feel his calloused hands on your skin as he feels you up, making you shudder. His touch isn’t demanding nor pushy, simply exploratory as he feels your soft skin under his fingertips.

Your arousal is pumping through your system, Spencer’s gentle submissiveness like a drug you can’t kick. The more you touch him, the more he reacts; touching you more, whimpering and gasping against your lips, into your neck.

“Come on, baby,” you coo in his ear, your hand speeding up on Spencer’s hardness. He’s leaking pathetically, wet in your palm, and he squirms underneath you.

“I’m– It’s too–” Spencer cuts himself off with a helpless whine, like he can’t control himself. His hands grip your waist tight. “Please–”

“Mm,” you hum sympathetically, while you thoroughly enjoy seeing Spencer like this. “Wanna cum like this, baby?”

Spencer’s breathing hard. He can’t get the words out, but he shakes his head. You slow your strokes, to an excruciating pressure on his length. “No? Then tell me, Spence.”

“Inside you,” He gasps, eyes squeezed shut.

You absolutely should not let Spencer fuck you for the first time on his couch, but he’s desperate and your resolve is steadily crumbling. “You– You’re sure?”

“Please,” Spencer gasps, his eyes pleading with you helplessly.

So, you pull your hand back and push your shorts off instead. Your panties come off in one fell swoop, and you sit back onto the couch with your legs spread. Spencer’s eyes are wide and his lips are parted as he looks at you, takes the sight of you in.

Then he’s like a baby deer, standing up and fumbling to get his sweatpants off. You can’t help but giggle at his awkward movements, in his excitement and eagerness to get to touch you, to get to fuck you. He’s quick to get between your legs, his hardness nudging at your entrance already.

“Mm, not yet, Spence,” you hum. You reach for his hand, taking his wrist as you guide his fingers to your clit. “You know what to do, right?”

He turns his wrist so his fingers – God, his fingers – are poised almost elegantly above your clit. He presses down and starts to circle his fingers against you. You gasp.

“Thought you didn’t– oh– Didn’t have much experience,” you gasp. You hold onto Spencer’s forearm tight, throwing your head back as Spencer pleasures you.

Spencer huffs out a laugh. “I might not be experienced, but I’m not a prude– I remember the… stuff I’ve seen. Eidetic memory and all.”

“Stuff,” you laugh. “I’m sure the porn you’ve watched must’ve helped, darling.”

He slips his fingers into your wetness with an unsurprising ease, considering how turned on you are by him. He hits spots inside you you’ve never thought were possible to reach, but they make electricity zip up your spine. You moan as he crooks his fingers into you, rocking them in and out with a wet squelch.

Spencer grins at you. “You were saying?”

“You’re a cocky bastard, you know that?” you huff, your tone teetering between awfully turned on and mildly annoyed.

“You like it,” Spencer says, assured of himself, and you smile, because you really do.

“My love,” you moan, as Spencer presses his fingers into you, back out. “You should try fucking me now.”

Spencer’s fingers are still inside of you, and his eyes are wide as he looks up at you. “You think so?”

You smile at him. “If you think you’re up for it.”

You mourn the loss of Spencer’s fingers, but as he’s mumbling to himself and lining his cock up with your entrance, you can only coo at how adorable you find all of this. And how turned on you are, but that’s more than obvious to the both of you by now.

He looks to you, like he’s looking for reassurance. You nod. Even in the silence, he’s gotten the confidence to push his cock into you, the thickness of his tip breaching your hole. You gasp as you stretch around him, your cunt making space for him as he slides in, excruciatingly slow. “Spencer–”

Spencer lets out a whine as your tight heat engulfs him, his length swallowed up by you as he sinks deeper into you. “Oh, my God–”

“Just like that, baby,” you moan, your leg hooking around Spencer’s leg to coax him forward, closer to you. “Fuck.”

“Do I– When should I–” Spencer gasps, unable to form a coherent sentence with the pleasure swimming through his bloodstream.

“You can start moving when you don’t feel like you’re going to blow your load if you breathe the wrong way,” you joke, but Spencer does seriously look like he’s going to finish any second. “Hey. Deep breaths, baby.”

Spencer’s brows are furrowed and his eyes are squeezed shut as he breathes in hard, in through his nose and out through his mouth. He’d told you to do that when he’d helped you through a panic attack one time, and while you feel bad that he feels so nervous about all this, it’s extremely amusing to you right now.

“Look at me,” you say, trying your best not to laugh. “You’re doing great, love.”

Spencer pulls his lower lip between his teeth, his eyes looking to you for validation.

“So good for me, darling,” you coo, your hand on his hip, while your thumb draws little circles into his skin. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah,” Spencer shudders, voice high-pitched and a little breathy. “I– You feel really good.”

“Yeah? It’ll feel even better when you start moving, sweetheart,” you hum. “You think you can do that for me? Slow, out then back in.”

Spencer whimpers, nodding, and he takes another deep breath in. His hands on your waist, he pulls out halfway before pressing back into you, and he moans so loudly your ears ring. “So– So tight, you–”

“That’s good, yeah? Feels good?” you coo. “Come on, baby. More.”

Spencer rests one of his arms on the back of the couch, holding himself steady and getting him that much closer to you. He starts to thrust in and out, starting off slow as he finds a rhythm.

His thrusts are erratic, but you’re so wildly turned on and it still feels amazing, because it’s Spencer.

Spencer is frantic, desperate, bracing himself against the couch as he fucks into you. Maybe pounding into you is a better phrase to use, because he’s fucking you like a madman, till the couch is squeaking under both your weight. You cry out, feeling Spencer drilling into you – and it feels so good.

“Oh, God,” Spencer whines. “You– It’s so good, oh–”

“Yeah, baby?” You rock your hips along with him, burying Spencer deeper into you. You clench so each thrust is a little tighter, and each time Spencer fucks into you, he moans a little louder.

Amidst Spencer’s whines and pretty noises, you watch his face morph with pleasure, feeling assured that he’s enjoying this as much as you are. In fact, he’s probably enjoying this more. As you’re lost in your train of thought, admiring Spencer’s gorgeous face, you’re startled when you feel Spencer’s load inside of you, hot and slick. His hips flush against your ass, Spencer shudders as he rides out his orgasm, body trembling from the force of his pleasure.

“Oh, Spence,” you giggle, a little dizzy from how turned on you are, from watching Spencer lose himself just like that. You reach up to cup his face, your thumb gentle on his cheek. “Was that good?”

“Oh,” Spencer mumbles, seemingly brought back to reality. He pulls back, taking the sight of you in. “I’m– I’m good, I’m sorry–”

“Don’t be,” you say. “You’re so cute. It’s so hot.”

“I mean, you are too, but– But you haven’t–”

“You wanna make it up to me, then?” You smile, gentle and warm and Spencer nods like he’s eager to please you.

You kiss him while he pulls out, replacing the thickness of his cock with two fingers, which fit into you easily. Like before, Spencer presses his fingers into you, slick and wet and squelchy. Spencer curls them and fingerfucks you like a pro, like he’s done this a hundred times. With his face pressed into your shoulder and your arms slung around his neck, Spencer fucks you on his fingers until your toes are curling and you’re screaming his name. You cry out as you orgasm, shaking as Spencer fucks you through it.

You’re almost embarrassed when you finally come back to your senses, no longer reeling from the intensity of your orgasm. Spencer is kissing your jawline sweetly, his clean hand stroking your hair.

“Hey,” Spencer says softly, somehow knowing you needed to hear him. He parrots you from earlier, “Was– Was that good?”

“So good, my love,” you murmur into his shoulder. Then, after a quiet moment, “I thought you needed some time to get comfortable with being intimate.”

Spencer pauses for a moment, like he’s pondering it, before he says, “I know. But for you, I think I’d do anything.”

That’s all Spencer manages to get out before you kiss him again. It’s tender and sweet, the intensity behind your kiss no longer lustful but full of adoration and love. You feel like you could sob right now, but you manage to hold it back.

Spencer gets into the shower with you, which you’re surprised by, but his hands are soft on your body as he cleans you up. You shampoo his hair for him, even though he has to lean forward a little so you can reach.

You end up falling asleep in Spencer’s bed, curled up in his arms.

You don’t dream at night, but when you wake up with a hardness poking against your thigh and Spencer’s gentle snoring in your ear, you think you might be.

In your dreariness, you reach behind you, the angular sharpness of Spencer’s hip bone under your palm. He’s warm, cuddled up against you, and the tickling of his breath on your neck tells you that this isn’t a dream.

“Spence,” you whisper, shaking him slightly. You watch as he blinks himself awake, drowsy as he comes to focus on your face. “Hey.”

“Good morning,” Spencer says, his voice rough with disuse. “What’s up?”

“You are,” you smile, a little too pleased, as your hand snakes down toward his crotch.

He squeaks at the contact, your soft hand on his hardness, “Um, sorry about that.”

“Don’t be,” you laugh. “Had a good dream?”

He pulls his lower lip between his teeth. “About you, yeah.”

“Wanna tell me about it?” you goad, wiggling your eyebrows.

Spencer’s cheeks somehow get even redder than they already were, but he shakes his head. “I want– I want to have sex, though.”

Your eyes widen. “Now?”

“Do you have the time for it?” He asks, sheepish. “I– I want to fuck you again.”

Your cheeks flush at Spencer’s sudden crudeness. You think about what Spencer could’ve possibly dreamt up, wonder how Spencer could possibly be confident enough to tell you straight up that he wants to fuck you. That phrase probably hadn’t been in Spencer’s lexicon until about twelve hours ago – while Spencer was smart – a literal genius – his innocence was completely understandable.

“We have time,” you exhale, looking back into his eyes after looking at the clock. “I only have to be at the office in a couple of hours.”

“Good,” Spencer says, leaning in to kiss down your neck. His hands are frisky already, slipping underneath your shirt. Spencer splays his hands over your stomach, before reaching up to cup your breasts in his hands.

“You like touching me like this, don’t you, baby?” you chuckle breathlessly, already feeling weak in the knees from the way Spencer holds you. “Mm, I’m surprised.”

“Why is that?” His words are slightly muffled against your skin, too busy kissing you to make himself sound coherent. His hands are rough against the softness of your skin, and you moan from the way he’s handling you.

“Yesterday you couldn’t even tell me you wanted to fuck,” you croon, thoroughly pleased. “And now you’re touching me like you know what you’re doing. It’s so hot.”

“I– I just can’t get enough of you,” Spencer admits, his earnest words turning you on extremely.

“Now you’re just horny,” you laugh, feeling Spencer’s hand slide over your underwear.

“Mm, you’re so wet right now too,” Spencer murmurs in your ear, his warm breath and raspy voice sending a shiver down your spine. Where’d he learn to talk like that? You squeeze your thighs together, but that doesn’t stop Spencer from feeling the wetness between your legs, soaking through your panties.

“All for you, baby,” you gasp, as Spencer’s fingers slip past the band of your underwear, deftly stroking your clit. “Spencer–”

“Can I fuck you? Please?” He pleads, breathy, his hips already rutting forward against your ass.

His eagerness makes your head spin, his sudden confidence in the realm of sex surprising – maybe it’s cockiness, but you still find that stupidly attractive – but it is certainly welcomed.

“Yes, Spence, please,” you shudder, the word yes leaving your lips enough for Spencer to pull your underwear down, over the swell of your ass. He fumbles with his own boxers for a moment, but soon you feel his hard, leaking tip pressed to your butt. He rocks his hips back and forth, desperately seeking whatever friction he can get.

Lost in his own pleasure, Spencer is quick to slide his cock between your legs, the wetness from your cunt making it easy for him to rut into the tight, slick space. Like this, his length rubs up against you, the head of his cock nudging at your clit with every thrust of his hips. It feels primal, Spencer so far gone that he isn’t even fucking you proper, content with the slick, tight space between your thighs and your pussy. You wonder if you need to tell him, but Spencer’s groan in your ear is shaky as his tip catches on your hole.

His arms wrapped around you, both of you moan as Spencer finally sinks his cock into you. He slides in too easily, so easily you almost think he’d hadn’t meant to do it. Maybe he hadn’t, but you’d gotten there in the end, where you both need to be; Spencer buried inside of you.

It’s so different from yesterday, the angle when he presses into you from behind so exhilarating, so good. He’s just as desperate as last night, but there’s a sort of reckless confidence in his movements. His hands slide under your shirt to grab at your tits again, rocking his hips while he practically gropes you. It’s so hot your head spins. You feel like you’re going to explode.

“Spencer!” You cry out, your voice ripping its way out of your throat. Pleasure surges through you like electricity, Spencer’s thick cock hitting all the right spots from this angle. His eager desperation turns you on to no end, as you let him take you from behind. While you weren’t expecting lazy, morning sex at all, the intensity and desperation he fucks you with right now makes you think you could get used to this.

Spencer’s whine has your head spinning. His hips don’t slow, more rhythmic than yesterday but still as needy. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

“Yeah?” You coo breathlessly. You’re so fucking turned on, and every time Spencer drives his hips into you you can hear how wet you really are. “You’re doing so good for me, Spence, fucking me so good.”

“You like it? Is it good?” Spencer gasps, always so eager to please you.

“So good,” you moan. You’re still sore from last night, but the pleasure Spencer is giving you right now overrides all of that. You would love for him to wake you up like this every day. “I’m close, baby.”

“Oh,” Spencer says, like he’s surprised you’re already getting off on this, on him– “What do you need me to do?”

“Just keep going, Spence,” you gasp. “Keep fucking me just like this.”

Spencer’s hum is breathy, high-pitched. Somehow, his grip on you gets tighter, holding you like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. The force he fucks you with is so wildly arousing. You’re so enamoured, and so turned on.

Your orgasm creeps up on you, slow and steady as it bubbles up inside of you. You squeeze your eyes shut, focusing on the dirty, rough way Spencer fucks you, and then you feel his soft lips on your neck again. He isn’t properly kissing you – more like slobbering all over your neck, but you cry out as he does so, thighs pressing together as you reach your orgasm. You’re shaking through it, clenching around Spencer as you come, and Spencer’s gasping as your tight pussy pushes Spencer over the edge too. You feel his come inside of you, cock twitching as his load spurts hot and heavy into your cunt. You sob, feeling Spencer slow his thrusts as he rides out his orgasm.

“Holy shit,” you say, your voice coming out ragged and hoarse. You feel like a different woman, being fucked ruthlessly by your boyfriend in his bed for the first time. You can’t get enough.

“I love you,” Spencer says quietly, earnest. It makes you shudder.

“You’re crazy,” you laugh, taken aback at how Spencer’s returned to his gentle, soft self. “I love you too, you madman.”

“I can’t resist you,” he murmurs in your ear, the vibrations of his raspy morning voice almost soothing.

You turn around to face him, Spencer still holding you in his arms. He smiles warmly at you, and you lean in to kiss him. “You’re so cute.”

“Wanna go again?” he asks, somewhat timid.

Your eyes widen. You try to hide your grin, but it doesn’t work. “Someone’s desperate, huh?”

Spencer flushes a gorgeous red. “Maybe a little?”

“I have to get ready for work,” you sigh, actually a little bummed that you can't spend all day fucking Spencer. “Maybe tonight?”

“Okay,” Spencer smiles. “Want me to drive you back to yours?”

You grin. “You’re the best!”

Work is relatively uneventful, numbers and Excel spreadsheets; and all you can think about is Spencer’s rapid change in demeanour over the last twelve hours, his innocence torn away by you, leaving behind a horny, insatiable man. You’re kind of proud of yourself for that.

So, you can’t blame yourself for being excited to get back to Spencer’s. Lately, you’ve been staying over more, your apartment simply a place to house your wardrobe. Maybe you’ll talk to Spencer about living together.

“Hey, Spence,” you say, pleased when Spencer kisses you as he greets you at the door.

Even with all the probable germs on you from being out all day, Spencer’s surprisingly clingy, hands on your waist as he stumbles in behind you, as you set the takeout you’d brought over on his dining table. Spencer leans in behind you, kissing your cheek then down your neck.

“Hey, what’s with you, baby?” you chuckle, very much enjoying the way Spencer’s hands slide down your waist to your hips, grabbing the meat of your thighs through your dress pants.

“Missed you,” Spencer answers simply, but even you can tell there’s something in his voice that implies he’s looking for something more.

“I’m sorry I had to leave you alone the whole day, my love. I’m sure you must’ve found something to busy yourself with, though?” You hum, teasing. You have a good idea of where this is going.

Spencer’s quiet for a moment, so you turn to look at him. His lips are pressed into a thin line, looking almost nervous, and his cheeks are flushed red. Spencer finally presses his body close to yours, and you feel it–

“Spence,” you grin, “Someone’s happy to see me.”

“Thought about it– Thought about you all day,” Spencer mumbles. “You promised.”

“What did I promise, baby?” you egg him on, eager to hear him say it, even though you definitely know what he’s going to ask.

“That we would do it again tonight,” he answers, but you shoot him a look. “You said we would have sex again tonight.”

“Twice in one day? I don’t know, baby,” you pretend to sound disinterested.

Spencer looks at you with wide eyes. Respectful as ever, he clears his throat. “Please? If you’re tired we don’t have to, but I really want to. Only if you want to, though. This involves both of us, I don’t want to impose–”

You giggle, reaching to hold his hands. “God, you’re perfect.”

“What–?” Spencer barely gets the word out before you’re kissing him. He’s happy to do so, holding your face gently, matching your energy perfectly. You feel his cock pressing against you.

“I turned you into a sex fiend,” you laugh, between kissing him, “And you’re still thinking about making sure I’m into it too.”

“Of course, why wouldn’t I be?” Spencer’s brows furrow slightly, like he can’t comprehend how he could be into it if you weren’t too. “And I- I’m not a sex fiend, I just–”

Smiling, you whisper sultrily, “I think you should take me right here, baby.”

“Oh–” You cut Spencer off with another kiss, and he squeaks as you reach for his half-hard cock through his sweatpants. You’re positively delighted that Spencer’s like this, for you.

Spencer kisses you deeply, leaning forward until the small of your back hits the edge of the table. His hands coming up to your ass, he lifts you up, getting you to lay back on the table. You gasp, as Spencer kisses down the column of your neck, his hands making quick work of the buttons of your dress shirt. His lips are soft against your skin, at the swell of your breasts. Your shirt gets pushed off your shoulders. You feel him unhook your bra with a surprising ease, tossed aside, and then his hands are grabbing your tits like they were made for him. His thumbs brush over your nipples, a little forceful as he kneads at you, and your head is spinning.

“Spencer,” you moan, as he kisses down your stomach, unbuttoning your pants to reveal your soaked-through underwear. He smiles up at you, his messy mop of hair a lovely sight.

“Can I…?” Spencer’s big brown eyes dart down to where you’re soaked, then back up at you.

Your eyes widen. “Yes. If you want to.”

Spencer grins. “Of course I want to.”

His fingers are gentle on your hips as he pulls your panties off, wasting no time in spreading your legs so he can get between them. Your eyes are wide as you watch him, feeling kind of self-conscious over how eager he is to be doing this. Knelt between your thighs, he lifts one of your legs and swings them over his shoulder. You can feel his stubble on the soft skin of your inner thigh, his nose nudging against your clit. His tongue comes up, wet and hot, as he tastes you for the first time. “Spencer–”

He presses his face impossibly closer, more urgent in eating you out. You watch as his eyes flutter shut, his jaw flexing as his tongue works on you, and you’re trembling already. Spencer’s extremely good with his mouth, and you’re surprised at how good he’s making you feel, considering he likely hasn’t done this before. The sounds of his mouth are wet and squelchy and so obscene, and you would feel almost embarrassed, were it not for how into this Spencer seems to be too,

With your hands in his hair, you cry out when Spencer’s tongue circles your swollen clit, jolts of pleasure sent through your body. You can’t think straight when Spencer’s face is buried between your legs, eating you out like he was made for this. All you can think about is how gifted Spencer is with his tongue, and how you wish you could do this all night.

“Please, love,” you moan, “Need you to fuck me.”

Spencer hums in approval, the vibrations between your legs making you jump. He makes a little wet slurping noise before he comes back up, and you feel your cunt throb when he looks up at you with his lovely, wide brown eyes, and his chin wet and messy with your slick. Spencer wipes his face with the back of his hand, and you’re so turned on you might just explode.

“I love you,” you tell him earnestly. “I think this is the craziest thing I’ve ever done. I love you.”

“What is? Having sex on my dinner table?” Spencer quips, as he sets your legs down and stands back up. He has a cocky grin plastered on his face.

You roll your eyes playfully. “First time for everything, right?”

Spencer nods, smiling, before he leans forward to kiss you sweetly. You watch as he pulls his sweatpants down, his cock bobbing up, red and angry and rock hard. You feel yourself salivating at the sight, but decide that he needs to fuck you right now.

“Spencer,” you mewl, feeling breathless as you watch him wrap a hand around himself, stroking his length. Concentration is written all over his face and it makes you want to kiss him.

“I’ve been wanting to do this all day,” Spencer says, pressing his cock forward until he’s lined up with your entrance. It’s so tantalising, the way the blunt head of his cock threatens to slip into you. You’re so wet and so loose for him, and you need him inside of you now.

You gasp when he finally pushes in, his thick cock splitting you in half as he slides into you. The pressure is so perfect, the slow draw of his hips as he takes care not to rush, wanting to take care of you. Even with all this still being new for Spencer, he still focuses on you, puts you first. You’re not sure if you’re swooning over him, or the way his cock fits inside you perfectly.

You don’t need to encourage him to start moving. He rocks his hips slowly, somehow already familiar with your body, and makes you feel like you could explode with pleasure.

He leans forward, pressing his body to yours as he kisses you. Like this, Spencer presses into you deeper, fucks you slow and deep and loving. The edge of the table is absolutely digging into your back, but you don’t care when every sense of yours is filled with Spencer, getting to taste and touch and hear him. You taste yourself on his tongue, hear the sloppy way he thrusts into you, your skin burning wherever he’s pressed up against you.

Burying his face in your neck, Spencer pants in your ear, hot and heavy as he fucks you, giving you everything you need. Your head is swimming with arousal, as Spencer presses you against the table and fucks you like his life depends on it. “You feel so good, fuck, so good–”

“I’m so close, baby,” you cry out, the pace absolutely ruthless as Spencer fucks you. You didn’t think his stamina would be this good, considering your boyfriend’s lanky stature and abhorrence towards exercise. You certainly wouldn’t mind doing this kind of cardio with him more often. “Please, Spence–”

“Let go, I– I’m here for you,” Spencer stumbles over his words, but he’s so sweet that you’re losing yourself, your orgasm crashing into you like a tidal wave. You scream as you reach your peak, your toes curling while Spencer fucks you through it, shaking as pleasure and arousal zips through your body. Spencer’s hips stutter as the tightness of your pussy has him reeling, too close too quickly.

While his hips keep a steady pace, you’re feeling loopy as Spencer continues to fuck you. You hold his head close to you, kissing his forehead as you murmur, “You’re so hot, Spence. Made me come so quickly, and you held out for me? So good for me, baby. Are you close?”

Spencer whines, a pitiful noise in the back of his throat. “Please, I’m so close, need you–”

“I’m right here, baby,” you coo, stroking his sweat-matted hair sweetly. You’re so enamoured with him. “Gonna cum inside me, Spence? Fill me up with your–”

You don’t even get to finish your dirty talk before Spencer is moaning, coming inside of you. It feels like he’s released so much inside of you, hot and messy as he fucks you through his own high. His chest heaves as he pants, trembling as he reels from the intensity of his orgasm. Spencer’s hips slow to a stop, and he mouths at your neck mindlessly until he seems to get his bearings back. You imagine you must look a mess, sweat and spit all over you, your makeup from a long day of work likely running by now.

Spencer gets up off of you, so both of you have space to catch your breaths. You feel Spencer slip out of you with a slick ‘pop’, and feel his release trickle out of you just moments after. You stifle a quiet moan, but when you look up at Spencer, his eyes couldn’t possibly leave the sight between your legs. His lips are parted slightly, pupils blown wide, as he watches you drip with his release. You feel Spencer’s cock, resting against your inner thigh, twitch slightly.

“Woah there, cowboy,” you chuckle, out of breath. “Give me a minute to recover.”

His eyes practically twinkle when they dart up to look at you. He’s like an excited puppy as he asks, “Again?”

You shake your head, laughing, and sit up to kiss Spencer again. “Maybe we could try something new?”

Spencer grins, nodding eagerly. It definitely seems like he’s down for whatever, as long as it’s with you.

#spencer reid smut #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencerreidenjoyer writes

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kolsmikaelson · 11 months ago

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AND THEN THERE WERE THREE…

NOTES — just saw challengers today and absolutely needed to write smth for these two! only used a gif of art because theres none of the two of them and almost none for patrick </3, i’m a little rusty with smut so bare with me

WARNINGS — 18+ content mdni, slight challengers 2024 spoilers, fem!reader, kinda dom!art, pure smut/little plot, art/patrick interactions, talk of previous art/patrick sexual encounters, spit play, oral (m receiving), tit sucking, dirty talk, mentions of anal, little bit of aftercare, not proofread, lmk if i forgot anything!

REQUEST — Pls write a smut fic with reader and Art fucking in the hotel room (with Patrick watching) and reader asking if Patrick can join them and ofc Art can’t say no because he finds the idea of this super hot. Maybe reader makes Art and Patrick make out like in the movie 👀

WORD COUNT — 1.6k

join my taglist or follow @rodrickhefley to see when i post

None of you were too sure how exactly this had started. You, Art, and Patrick had stumbled back into their hotel room after leaving the beach, each of you finding your own place to sit after Patrick opened up a beer, took a swig, and passed the can to you. You’d taken a seat closer to Art, having naturally gravitated towards him more so than Patrick. And quickly, you and Art were making out, leaving Patrick to watch.

You blamed the beer. And the fact that you found both Art and Patrick incredibly hot. One minute you’re at a party, dedicated to your best friend, Tashi Duncan, and the next you’re sitting on the beach being invited back to the guys’ hotel room, and the next after that, Art is stripping you of your clothes while Patrick takes a seat leaned up against the wall opposite the foot of the bed.

“Can I-” He begins, fingers fiddling with the hem of your shirt, desperation clear in his eyes. At your nod, Art quickly yanks your shirt over your head and immediately pulls your body flush against his. He’s planting soft, wet kisses up and down your neck as his fingers work the back of your bra. His eyes widen the moment it drops to the ground.

Giving you a moment's glance he quickly sucks one nipple into his mouth, licking and sucking and biting. Feeling as though he’s neglected the other one, he pinches and tugs on the opposite nipple, smiling around the one in his mouth at the moans you let out.

“Yeah, baby? You like this? Me with your tits in my mouth and my best friend jerking off while watching us?”

For a moment, you’d forgotten about Patrick. Your eyes shoot open, landing on him instantly. The sight of him, slouched against the wall, his hand already wrapped around his cock, with his eyes fixated on both you and Art. He looked so hot, you weren’t sure how you’d forgotten that he was even there.

“Mhm, ‘s hot.” you admitted, turning Arts face back to you, tugging his bottom lip back into your mouth. The blond pushes you back onto the beds that were pushed together - Patrick’s idea if anyone were to ask - and begins kissing up your stomach only stopping long enough to kiss each of your nipples. He grabs your face, pushing his fingers into your cheeks, making you open your mouth, before letting a large glob of spit fall from his mouth into yours.

“Swallow.” He smiles when you do so without complaint, even going as far as to look as if you wanted him to do it again.

Patrick moans at that, louder than before. Sure he and Art had messed around before, when they were both single and bored and needed a good fuck, that wasn’t new, but hearing that commanding tone in the blonds voice sent a shiver down his spine.

“God, that was hot.” Patrick sighs, laughing when Art gives him the finger.

“Fuck off, Patrick.” Both of them know he doesn’t mean it, if he wasn’t wanted there, you or Art would’ve said something, but you didn’t. whether Art knew it or not, both you and he wanted him to stay, and keep watching.

At some point during that interaction, you weren’t sure when exactly, Art had shed his pants and underwear. He was dragging the tip up and down your slit, up and down, stopping every few seconds to slap your clit with it. When your eyes finally landed on his length, it made your jaw drop. He was big, bigger than you’d seen before, he was long and girthy with veins running along the bottom of it.

He slowly slides into you, admiring the look of pure bliss on your face. He’d never seen anyone look so angelic. The closest comparison he could make was how Patrick looked when he’d first given him a blow job. He wouldn’t call the look on Patrick's face angelic perse, but it was hot, really hot. The reminder of that, and the way you’ve begun clenching around him, spurs him into you. His hips snapping into yours, his heavy balls hitting your ass with each thrust. It was unlike anything either of you had felt before.

I want him to join.

You weren’t sure that the words had actually left your mouth until the blond on top of you stopped his thrusts, looking into your eyes for a moment.

“That what you want, baby?” He murmurs, kissing sloppily up and down your neck, shivers running through your entire body at his touch. His fingers falling to your clit, flicking at it. The pleasure was almost enough to make you forget that he’d even asked a question.

Almost.

“Please,” Even in your fucked out state, you couldn’t help but want more.

“Come on, Zweig. You heard her.” Patrick grins, hopping to his feet, although slightly hesitant. He wasn’t sure where to go, or what to do. But his nerves dissolved the moment Art turned around, and gave him that look, one that he knew meant that everything would be okay. It meant that he just needed to get over himself and have a good time, everything would work out. After that he’s on the move towards you, giving Art a harsh slap to the ass as he goes past him, laughing when Art swats back at him.

Patrick all but flies onto the bed, having kicked his underwear off the moment he stood up, and his shirt is long gone, a mix of yours, his, and Arts clothes are scattered around the hotel room, sure to have lost at least one thing. But none of you had it in you to care, too overwhelmed with pleasure. Your mouth opens before he’s even fully on the bed, but he gets the message, quickly positioning his tip in front of your mouth, thrusting a few times before losing control and fucking your throat.

The three of you move in tandem for minutes, or maybe it was hours, Art would thrust into you, rubbing your clit with his fingers, while Patrick would be pulling himself out of your mouth at the same time. It felt as though this was a regular occurrence, as though it were normal. And god did you hope it would become a normal thing. The three of you, together, making each other feel good.

Tapping Patricks thigh lightly, you hum happily when he pulls out of your mouth, giggling at how quickly he begins to check and make sure you’re okay.

“What? What’s wrong? Are you okay? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” The words come out of his mouth at lightning speed and it’s difficult for you to understand, but Art had and his thrusts slowed to a stop, hands leaving your body, giving you a questioning look as if repeating everything his friend had just said.

“I’m fine baby,” And then you say something neither of them could quite hear.

“Gotta speak up for us, sweetheart. Can’t do what you want us to do otherwise.” That comes from Patrick, Art nodding along with him.

“Want you two to kiss.” The words fly out of your lips and you’re suddenly shy, pressing your face into Patricks thigh, nipping at it softly.

Both men smirk at you before making eye contact with each other, giving a subtle nod.

“Well c’mon man, you know how I like it.”

The combination of Arts words, his sudden thrusts and Patrick taking it upon himself to flick at your clit, push you over the edge. The power of your orgasm makes your legs shake, your mind empty of anything this isn’t you, Patrick, or Art.

They’re still kissing, it’s all teeth and tongue and spit. It’s messy, and it only stops long enough for Arts mouth to fall open, moans spilling out as he comes inside of you, hot spurts of his come flooding your insides, leaving a white ring around the base of his cock as he fucks you through both of your orgasms.

At this point, Patrick has taken a step back, and is watching again. He’s stroking himself with one hand, squeezing just right and out of nowhere, Art reaches out, cupping the dark haired man's balls, tugging and rubbing on them just the way Patrick likes. The added pleasure sends him crashing over the edge, he barely has the time to move and aim his cum to where you and Art are connected, spilling himself all over your cunt and Arts cock.

Art pulls out and the three of you fall into a pile of heavy breathing, sweat, spit, and cum on the beds pushed into the middle of the room. Once you all catch your breath, Patrick is the first to speak.

“Wow.” It was simple, but it made you all burst out laughing.

“Wow, indeed.” you murmur, pressing a kiss to his pec, turning to do the same to Art.

“That was fucking hot.” Arts words make you all giggle yet again.

“Okay,” Patrick leans you into Art and pushes himself off of the bed, “‘m gonna get you two cleaned up, be right back.” He reassures you, hearing you whine at losing his presence. He comes back with a warm washcloth in hand, and a small cup of water in his other. He hands the water to Art motioning for him to take a drink and then give you some as well, while he bends at the waist, resting his knees on the floor and taking the cloth to your core, cleaning you as gently as he could before moving onto Art. Tossing the cloth to the corner of the room he pulls both you and Art into his embrace, enjoying the quiet for a moment before you break the silence.

“Round two? Whoever makes me cum harder gets to fuck me here first.” You smile slyly, placing your hand on your ass, giggling when Patrick snatches you from Arts hold, muttering something about how he ‘got you first last time and that it’s his turn now.’

#◜ caitee’𝗌 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄𝗌 ✎ ˚✧ ꜝ #challengers #art donaldson #patrick zweig #challengers x reader #challengers imagine #challengers smut #challengers x you #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson imagine #art donaldson smut #patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig imagine #patrick zweig smut #mike faist x reader #mike faist smut #josh o’connor x reader #josh o’connor smut #dividers by cafekitsune

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hellfire--cult · 27 days ago

Text

Long Distance Bf!Eddie Munson x fem!Reader

wc: 17.7k

+18 reader is a gamer, talk about games, long distance, pining, sex toys, mentions of phone sex and video sex, established relationship, slight angst, reader being insecure, kissing, oral (f and m), rough, spit, dirty talking, p in v (unprotected), eddie being a sweetheart as well as a perv in a good way

Summary: You didn't plan it, but through a game lobby you met the person who would become your long distance boyfriend. The time came for him to visit you for the first time after five months of dating... and you are not going to hold back.

a/n: thank you to @ghost-proofbaby for proofreading and fixing so much shit, as well as @andvys cause these bitches betaread almost every filth i write. this was supposed to be a v-day fic, so happy belated valentine's day.

Please reblog, be kind.

NO MORE BUFFERING

“Eddie, what kind of internet do they have in Hawkins? You’re lagging like shit… again.”

“Don’t disrespect it–” Silence, a robotic voice coming in making you roll your eyes. “–It’s a small town–” and again. “–You know.”

“No, cause I didn’t hear half the shit you said.” He froze on the screen for a second before the call dropped. A second later, your phone started ringing, making you scoff with a smile, answering the video call.

“I am so tired of this shit, sweetheart.” You saw his mop of curls coming into view as he placed the phone standing straight on his desk. You saw he was shirtless as he put cream on his hair, one of your requests after seeing the dryness and open ends on them.

“I told you to call the company many times!”

“It’s not the company, Hawkins is shit.” You giggled at his outburst, feeling your cheeks flush the more you looked at the expanse of his chest. The arms covered in tattoos, and you could see the happy trail going down into his sweatpants, which were too low, and his bush started sticking out a bit. “You done checking me out?”

“You’re hot.” You heard him chuckle on the other side of the screen. Your lovely boyfriend just posed for the camera, pretending to be in a vogue magazine or something. You giggled as you felt your cheeks heat up. No matter how many months had passed, he would still make you feel giddy and nervous. Who would have thought that the stranger standing on the other side of the screen would become your long distance boyfriend?

You didn’t plan it, really. It just happened.

Since you were little you liked playing video games. You adored it. Unlike some of the girls and boys in your school who did sports and stuff, you preferred to stay home with your Playstation 1, then the second one, then the Wii, then your first computer to play on. You made friends along the years, but then those friends lost interest in video games.

Nowadays, you have a full on gamer setup built in a room of your apartment. You also had studied Video Game 3D blending and you have a very well-paying job at a game producer company. You were basically living the life you always wanted to have. Your friends didn’t mind that you were a hermit or a little introvert with yourself. They learned to love you that way, often just laying on the bed as you play games, just being there for company, and you greatly appreciated that.

The problem was, none of your friends played online, and you were sick and tired of going into teams with random people in Call of Duty, and you were also disgusted and fed up with the men that just insulted you in game just because you were a woman, even if your score was better than what they did. They just kept insulting you, reporting you, and you encountered maybe just one woman every night in the lapse of ten matches.

So, you opened your Discord app, where you can join community servers of fandoms, and you joined the Call of Duty official server. You wanted to build a team, or to join one where they would not judge you. Maybe you could find an all-girl team in there. Your mouse moved around, looking through the topic channels to find what you were looking for. Finally, there it was.

‘Team finder.’

You decided to give it a try and joined that channel, seeing the people messaging each other, some asking for teammates and revealing their status in the game. You were pretty high in rank, so you were trying to look for a team that had the same one or close. Suddenly, a user that went by ‘i wear weird al shirts’ sent a message.

‘Looking for just one more teammate. We are looking for either a diamond or crimson rank!’

Your heart beat a little bit rapidly as you replied to them, telling them you were crimson rank. You received a message request later, privately, and you saw it was that same username, introducing themselves as Dustin. You checked their profile card, seeing they went by he/him. You were very respectful with the online community’s pronouns, so you always made sure to get them right.

He told you that they have a server for the teammates only, but that they would like to test how they feel with your gaming ability first. You licked your lips a bit and hovered over your keyboard, wondering if you should tell him you are in fact a woman. But you don’t know the rest of the team, so there might be another girl in there.

You gave Dustin your username, immediately receiving an invite in game. You joined the crew. You entered a very silent lobby, the other five people inside but not talking. You assumed that they were talking to each other in that private discord. You now hovered on your hot key to push to talk in game, but you didn’t quite want them to know you were a woman yet. Finally, one talked.

“Hello! I’m Gareth!”

“You are just going to give out your name like that? Christ.” Three guys for now. So you got Dustin, Gareth, an annoyed person and you are left to know two more.

“Stop having a stick up your ass, Mike. I’m Jeff.” Another guy.

“I’m Eddie, the most handsome guy in here.” You saw the speaker icon at the top of their characters light up each time they talked.

“Shut up, Eddie. Let’s just play and see if this guy is any good.” This Mike dude was very irritable. Your eyebrow twitched when he called you ‘guy’. They thought you were a man.

“Hang on, maybe it’s a lady!” The character of the guy named Gareth lit up.

“As if.” Mike talked once more and your anger was slowly rising - you were committed to make this guy eat his fucking words. When you get angry in game, you get ten times better, and this stupid little man is gonna wish he got on your good side by the end of it.

“You ain’t going to present yourself, sugar?” The Eddie guy talked and you decided to type by now.

‘If by the end of the game you guys want me in your party, I will.’

“Fair enough.” He responded and you sighed in relief. They went silent, and you could only guess they were talking on the discord again to each other. They started the game.

You got first kill.

First headshot.

The guys were cheering you on. Even the Mike guy was going insane over you.

You ended up as Player of the game. You smiled in triumph as you laid back on your chair. The guys cheered for you in the lobby, and you received a message from Dustin, the invite to a server called, ‘Hellfire Club’. What an odd name. They played nice, and they were fun with their commentary, the problem was if they would accept you when they learned you are a woman. One way to find out.

You clicked on the link, accepting the invite. You saw them all connected to the voice chat, and you felt your belly turning with nerves. You licked your lips as you took a deep breath in, seeing the messages in the chat to join them. You pressed on the voice chat, their voices blasting in your ears, cheering for you.

“Look who it is! Our champion! Our savior!” Dustin yelled and you smiled, containing a laugh.

“May we ask for the name of our brilliant knight?” You saw Eddie’s icon light up at his voice. This was it.

“Lady.”

Silence. Radio fucking silence. This was the part where you get kicked out, wasn’t it? Or where they start bashing on you, or bully you, or assume you are cheating in the game.

“Holy fucking shit!” The guy Jeff exclaimed as they started laughing, Dustin’s icon lighting up then.

“Mike, you better fucking apologize cause she carried your sorry ass just now!” You rolled your eyes, not even thinking the guy would properly apologize but–

“I am so sorry, I am forever in your debt.” Your eyes widened and then you saw on your other monitor how, thanks to this match, Mike had ascended rank in game.

“Uh, no problem.” You didn’t want to make your voice cheery, or high pitched with emotion, just in case you would annoy these guys. Eddie talked again through chuckles.

“We have a goddess in our land, boys, we gotta behave.” You sat there, expectantly as you waited for everyone to settle down. Then Eddie, who you saw was the one who created the server to begin with, talked to you again. “Does the goddess have a name?”

You gave your name softly, and each guy greeted you properly. You were stunned at this change of scenery. These guys were chill with you, but you really do wonder–

“Aren’t you guys freaked out that a girl is playing with you?”

“Are you kidding? One of our members was a girl too, she kicked ass, the sister of a friend. She started school so she is not able to play with us as much as before!” Dustin explained and your mouth fell open at that. They didn’t care if you’re a girl. They just cared that you played nice.

“Ahem, sweetheart.” Your body straightened up at the pet name, not disliking it at all for some reason. “You wanna join Hellfire?”

Every Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday, you all played together for hours. Mostly were wins thanks to you and Eddie, then there were some losses, but not a single game was toxic. They raged sure, but you weren’t far behind.

“COCK SUCKING SLUT, YOU FUCKING CHEATING PIECE OF SHIT!” You yelled loudly, ready to throw your controller across the room because you knew you found someone using a bot to aim perfectly at the head.

The boys’ laughter resonated in your ear, and Gareth was always the one to try to calm you down. You were so happy to have found a group that liked you, that had fun with you, and honestly was super interactive. The boys shared their foods, purchases, even clothes they bought in the general chat of the server. They showed their pets as well, Eddie, you and Jeff being the only two who didn’t own any.

You confessed you’ve always wanted a rat, and while most of the guys disagreed, Eddie was on your side 100%. He found rats cute, and he knew that they are as intelligent as a seven month old puppy.

One night in particular, after a month of talking with them, they decided to have a drinking night with you. Even if they were close to each other in distance, they stayed in their homes so that you could join and not feel left out. You were so thankful for them, but that meant you would be on camera for the first time. You wondered what they imagined you looked like, and you wondered how they looked like as well. They never shared pictures in the chat, and you never shared yours. You assumed they just wanted to keep their privacy. They knew each other in real life, unlike you.

So you got yourself out of your hermit clothes, put on makeup, even did your hair a bit. You put on an oversized sweater and prepared your beer in front of your PC. You took a deep breath in as you fixed the camera at the top of your monitor and you looked at yourself in the preview before joining the voice chat. You could see everyone pinging you, hurrying you, and you finally clicked the button.

The boys cheered as you came on the screen. You saw how they clapped and whooped. Only one person was not saying anything and– Oh fuck…

You didn’t expect Eddie to look like that. You didn’t expect Eddie to look like your type. Oh, fuck. And he wasn’t talking. He wasn’t saying anything, why?

“Hey, Munson, you alright there?” Jeff asked with a snicker on his lips, which made Eddie finally snap out, his curls falling on his face. You didn’t know if it was because of the lighting or what, but his face turned slightly red.

“Yep, totally fine. I’m just bummed I have to give up my throne.” Your eyebrows met in the middle a bit, staring into his camera only.

“Your throne?”

“Prettiest from the group, duh.” At his words, Gareth whistled, Mike and Dustin laughing with a cringe, but you felt yourself flush all over. It’d been a while since you got complimented like that, but that was because you truly never went out. You can’t even remember when was the last time you had sex. Your dildo doesn’t count.

“I beg to differ.” You commented and that seemed to catch Eddie off guard, because he choked a bit with his saliva. Jeff laughed, wiggling his eyebrows at the camera.

“You guys want us to leave?” And was it evil for you to wish that? A bit. You chuckled and shook your head as you raised your can towards the camera.

“I thought this was a drinking night?”

After that camera call, it seemed the boys were keen to keep putting the cameras when in the voice chat. You did as well, taking them grocery shopping and to the pet store to look at rats, the only one aww’ing at them being Eddie. But there was one particular call where Jeff, Gareth and Eddie were together while Mike and Dustin were not online.

“Welcome to your first Corroded Coffin concert, sweetheart!” You were in awe as you saw them play, but Eddie– Eddie caught your eye. He had been catching your eye for a while, and after exchanging instagrams with everyone, that attraction only grew.

But what were you thinking? He lived in Indiana, you lived in Virginia. This was just attraction over a guy you’ll probably meet in a year if this online thing doesn’t fall apart. It’ll go away. It had to.

Yet there was one night, where Mike, Dustin, Eddie and you were playing together, Dustin and Mike telling you that they were heading to bed. You pouted a bit on camera, not really wanting to go to sleep, but you knew the gaming night was over. You said goodbye to Mike and Dustin, about to say goodnight to Eddie as well, but–

“I’m not tired, you wanna stay on call with me, sweetheart?”

One call turned to two, to three, to four, to times when you both pretended to be offline so you could call each other privately. You watched movies, talked about TV shows, about one another’s lives, likes and dislikes, and soon, your attraction turned into a crush. Your heart raced whenever you called him, whenever you woke up with good morning messages from him, and then you called each other every single day.

You shouldn’t have done this. You were now with a crush on a man who lived miles away from you. And maybe he didn’t even feel the same for you, just that he found a new friendship in you and maybe he just wanted a feminine touch in his life.

“This movie fucking sucked ass, Eddie.” You laughed as you rubbed your eyes, the credits of the movie you two watched together rolling up. You looked at his face as he laughed into his hands in shame.

“This is what I get for following Steve’s suggestion, for fucks sake.” ‘Drag me to hell’, supposedly a great scary movie. Sure, if you think a possessed talking goat is scary.

“Tell Steve that if I ever meet him, I’m tying him to a chair so he forcefully watches the ridiculous 6. That will cause him an aneurysm.” You heard him scoff, putting a hand to his chest in feigned offense.

“Take that back right now!” You could only giggle, shaking your head.

“No, I’m standing by what I said.”

“Take it back–”

“Make me.” Suddenly he went silent and your smile fell. Did you fuck it up? Did you go overboard with that?

“Do you want me to?” His voice was not playful, no… it was flirty… Oh, he was flirting with you. Eddie was flirting with you.

“Mmm, I don’t know. Depends on how you do it.” This time you heard him groan, your heart beating out of your chest as he leaned forward, his eyes fixed on the camera and the screen, probably looking at you.

“Okay, I think it’s time we cut to the chase, shouldn’t we, sweetheart?”

“What do you mean?”

“I enjoy being alone with you here, do you enjoy being alone with me?” You felt your body flushing all over, sweat appearing on your fingertips.

“I do… a lot.” And he nodded. You noticed how he nervously looked at the camera and then at the screen. He ran a hand through his hair before he spoke again.

“Darling… I know it’s fucking stupid, and– Kind of weird– but, fuck… I have never met a girl like you. In my entire fucking life. I mean– Who the fuck listens to the Sims 1 soundtrack on the daily?” Your eyes widened at that, gasping.

“I do! It’s very comforting!” He only chuckled, shaking his head.

“And something I never heard in my life… You’re weird.” His eyes were soft as he looked at you. You bit your bottom lip as you played with your fingers on your lap.

“Is that a good thing?”

“I really like you, sweetheart.”

And the words took a while to process in your brain. This guy that never got to touch you, or see your entire body, likes you. He just does. He likes you because of who you are, not exactly how you look. The cameras on were just a plus to make the calls even more personal, which only made your crush grow bigger.

A smile spread on your lips as you saw him covering his face with his hair, acting shy, peeking through it as if he were hiding. He was cute. Such a dork. And so handsome… and gentle. Caring. He bought you a plushie you wanted from Kingdom Hearts that you saved in your wishlist. You were surprised when you received it, not knowing if you accidentally bought it, but the note inside made your heart melt on the spot.

‘Happy birthday, my goddess.’

“I really like you too, Eddie.”

So no, you didn’t plan it. You didn’t plan to date someone online for five months. You presented him to your friends and even if a little weirded out, they really didn’t expect something else coming from you. They were happy you found someone, even if not in the practical way.

The boys already knew. They had confessed to you, embarrassing Eddie in the process, that he never stopped talking about you. He praised you whenever he could, reminding everyone you were a lady and beautiful and that you had to be respected.

But in a relationship come needs. Eddie is handsome. He is… well, he is hot. You find him extremely attractive, inside and out. Your dildo could be named Eddie at this point from how many times you used it and called his name out loud, pretending your pink dildo was his cock.

So, in one bold movement, after a month of properly dating, you decided to do your first bold move. You sent him a suggestive picture of your cleavage.

‘Should I wear this top for Heather's party?’

It had taken him a moment to reply to you, making you wonder if he was busy or if he was just staring at your picture. You started second guessing yourself, wondering, again, if you had gone too far, only for your phone to ping.

‘Sweetheart, do you want me to die?’

‘Why? I’m just asking a simple question…🥺’

‘Can you send more pictures? Or a video works best, I need to do a thorough inspection to give a verdict.’

And the sexting part began. Then the pictures were no longer suggestive, just plain nude. He started that one after you sent a picture of yourself in your lacey underwear and bunny ears in front of your full-length mirror.

‘I’m so fucking hard right now, darling, you have no fucking idea.’ He sent this message with a blurred picture attached. You knew what it could be but– You were not prepared. You were not prepared for what you saw. Not only was it big. Not only it was curved. But Eddie had a tattoo along the shaft. He had Sindarin markings on the underside.

It made you wet in an instant.

Sexting turned into phone sex with video calls. He saw you, you saw him. He saw you fucking yourself in your dildo as you moaned his name, and you saw him fuck his hand to yours. It was daily, if not every two days. You had never done this before, but fuck if it wasn’t hot. Hot, yet not enough.

Which brings you to five months into the relationship, and the present day.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He called out as you hummed, still looking at his body as if you were daydreaming. He laughed, leaning over to look into the phone camera. “Stop drooling over me, for just a second.”

“No way, not possible, live with it.” He shook his head at you, his smile faltering slightly with nerves and you tilted your head in wonder as you felt your stomach flip with nervousness. “What’s wrong–”

“Nothing is wrong. I promise! But uhm… well… With the new job, I managed to… kind of save up.”

“For what?”

“Visiting you.”

Your brain short-circuited. You had explained to Eddie that you couldn’t visit him for a while, not until your video game project was done with, and your work days were never set. You couldn’t take your PC with you, so you had to stay home.

“What?”

“I– Tell me to fuck off if you’re not comfortable, I just– I really want to see you. There’s… a flight on… Valentine’s day.”

You felt yourself melt in your seat as you heard his words. He wanted to meet you for the first time and not on just any day. Valentine’s day. You knew Eddie had been struggling with finding a good paying job a few months back, finally landing a good one as a mechanic in his town.

“You… You got a new job and instead of saving up for the new guitar–”

“I saved up to finally meet you, yes– but if you tell me you’re not ready, I’ll go and just buy–”

“Yes… please…” And you two stared at one another for a few seconds, your heart beating wildly in your throat as he stood there.

“I– Yes?”

“Yes, I want you to come here, Eddie.”

You saw him walk backwards cheering with his fists in the air, and you smiled as he jumped excitedly, his hair bouncing all around him. You saw his uncle Wayne opening the door to see what Eddie was doing, and you couldn’t help but snort as Eddie stopped and pointed at his phone.

“I’m meeting my girlfriend!”

“Okay? Uh–” Wayne looked at you and nodded in greeting, “Hi sweetheart.”

“Hi, Wayne.” His uncle didn’t live with Eddie, but he came to visit often and even stayed for a day or two at his home. At Eddie’s request. It seemed Eddie wanted independence, but he was too attached to Wayne. He had explained to you about his past, about his family, and it was completely understandable that he couldn’t let Wayne go that easily.

“Keep it down, I’m excited for you two, but your neighbors will complain again.” And like that, he closed the door. The nerves invaded you once again and you saw Eddie rushing to grab the phone and taking you as he sat on the computer. You saw him typing away, and you knew he was looking to book that flight right away.

You saw the concentration in his scrunched-up features, his tongue poking out from the corner of his mouth as he squinted at the screen, clicking away. Excitement built in your belly as you looked at him. As you looked at a guy that just lived far away, yet you’ve never felt more connected to in your entire life.

A guy you fell in love with, despite the recent connectivity issues.

“BOOKED!” He yelled excitedly and you giggled, covering your mouth as you thrashed around, finally realizing you would meet him. You would meet Eddie. You would meet your boyfriend for the very first time, and on Valentine’s day to top it off. That would be a month away, and you could tell your work to give you a breather the week he stays with you, to not bother you as much.

You were excited… but nervous as fuck.

What if he doesn’t like you? What if he sees you and is disgusted? Should you kiss him as a greeting? Were the flowers in your hand too stupid to give to him? He said he liked them, so you got him some because men also deserve flowers on Valentine's day. You were standing at the Arrivals gate, just where Eddie had told you he would get off on.

You had prepared your home from top to bottom, cleaned it all up, and you even went to get a Bikini Wax with Heather. You exfoliated your skin, put on some lotion, and you were going a little bit crazy with it– But, was today the day? Not only were you going to meet him, but should it also be the time where you could confess to him?

You didn’t know if it was too soon or not, being the first time you ever fell in love for real in your life. You were pretty sure it was love. How could it not be? Eddie had not answered you for a whole day once, and you could not get in contact with him at all. His location was also off. Your first thought was very dark, afraid he had gotten into an accident with his motorcycle or something. You had called Gareth and you demanded him to go take you to Eddie.

You made him go to Eddie’s house while on a video call with you, and when he arrived and knocked on the door, Wayne had answered. Eddie had caught Mono. You were relieved yet the stress didn’t leave you at all. Wayne showed you Eddie’s state on video, and you saw him breathing at least, with a warm towel on his forehead and all.

When he started messaging you back, you told him you were relieved but you had asked Wayne for his own phone number just in case. You remember Eddie being touched by how much you cared, and the fact that Wayne trusted you enough to give him his personal information just for the sake of knowing Eddie was okay.

You were clearly in love, and gone. You were holding flowers, balloons in the shape of bats and hearts. You looked silly, but you noticed some people looking at you with smiles on their faces, knowing you were most likely hopelessly in love waiting for your partner. They were absolutely right.

Suddenly, the doors opened and you held your breath in as people started walking out. You saw a family getting back together, then an old lady and a man who brought her flowers, kids greeting their mother. You were nervously waiting and– did you get the gate wrong? Maybe you did? Should you check your phone to make sure? That is nonsense, you checked like forty times, but maybe you looked at it wrongly–

And then, you saw him, dressed all in black, guitar strapped to his back, his hair pulled up in a bun, his left hand dragging the carry on. His other hand? It was holding a rat plushie with cotton flowers in its hands. You felt your eyes burning as you saw him looking around, your heart literally about to jump out of your chest and your stomach twisting with vines of nerves. This would be it. You did small little jumps with your feet, rising your heels and then putting them back down, over and over again and–

His eyes finally clashed into yours. His face lit up instantly, a smile spreading from ear to ear, his dimples showing off completely. He was so beautiful in real life and you just felt complete. You felt so giddy, something you never thought you would feel for someone else, at least not in the way you met that someone.

You bounced on your feet excitedly, smiling widely at him. His face, still smiling, made a confused frown as he looked around at what you got him. His feet started working, rushing your way as you waited by the limit. You were finally going to hold him. You were finally going to feel his warmth and spend time with him and–

You heard a huge thud of something falling and then big arms closed around you. Your arms wrapped around him, trying to not let go of his gifts but you felt like crying from how happy you felt. How whole you suddenly became. To be able to hug the person you have been talking to for months, that you have shown the most intimate parts of yourself.

His face was deep in the crook of your neck and shoulder, and you realized he had thrown the carry on to the ground as well as the plushie he got you. It was okay. You didn’t care. You felt his hands all over your back as if he was holding something so precious that he was afraid it would fall apart if he let go. And maybe, it would. Now you don’t know how you will be able to keep going with your daily life once he is gone. How you’ll keep going without his hugs, kisses and–

You flushed all over as your thoughts became impure, in just one single instant. Oh, he smelled good. He smelled so fucking good. You were in such bliss, you didn’t want to let go, but you knew you had to. You felt him pulling away for a second, his eyes meeting yours and you held your breath tightly as you waited for him to kiss you. He was going to, wasn’t he?

“Are these for me?” He suddenly asked and you were so stunned, looking down to your hands and you smiled widely, giving the flowers to him, as well as the balloons. He chuckled as the smile never left his lips. You saw a hint of a blush on his cheeks as he looked at them. “I never received flowers in my life– Valentine’s day gifts at that.”

“Me neither.” He smiled at you, putting all the gifts in one hand so he could bend down and pick up the plushie that had those cotton flowers in the middle. You squealed loudly as you grabbed it, inspecting it. Suddenly you caught on a scent, making you lean forward and smell it, and– It’s him. It’s his cologne.

“Sprayed it myself. I may have put a cloth inside and stitched him up again for longer effects.” Your heart was in your throat as you felt overwhelmed with emotions. You hugged the rat tightly to your chest as Eddie stared down at you with a smile on his face.

“Thank you…” Your voice was small and muffled into the plushie. You looked up at him with bright eyes, hopeful he would lean in, and you needed to kiss him. You wanted to kiss him. But–

“Should we go? I am in terrible need of a cigarette, sweetheart.” You giggled, nodding as he bent down to grab his carry on again with his free hand, and you two walked side by side. The people all around you looked weirdly your way but still kind of adoringly. It was a metalhead guy with flowers and balloons in his hand, of course they would look.

You two walked through the airport, smiling like idiots. You wished you could hold his hand but he was not able to right now. You were wondering why he didn’t kiss you, and maybe you should? Maybe you should kiss him when you reach your car and he puts the things in the trunk.

He talked to you about how Wayne made him share his location at all times, the old man worried his nephew was travelling to another state by himself even if where he went, he was not going to be alone at all. You took your free hand to message Wayne, sending him a selfie with you and Eddie, signaling that he arrived safely because Eddie could not grab his phone right now. Wayne sent you a simple ‘take care now, use protection.’

That message made you flush all over, knowing that it was something that was going to happen no matter what. Absolutely. Wasn’t it? You wanted it to happen but– What if Eddie didn’t want to? What if he just came here to spend time with you but not to engage in something intimate? Were you looking too much into it? You literally had video sex with each other, so it not happening would be… weird… wouldn’t it?

But maybe… he doesn’t want to after seeing you? Maybe that’s why he didn’t kiss you?

Your self doubt was starting to slowly eat you alive as you reached the car where you parked. He put his carry on inside the trunk and the balloons as well because they would just not let you see on the rearview mirror, plus you might be stopped thanks to them. You bit your lip once you heard the trunk slam shut, Eddie turning your way with a smile on his face.

“So, ready to take me to your castle, my lady?” You giggled as you nodded, ready to take a step forward in order to be able to tippy toe and signal him you wanted a kiss, but he immediately rushed to the passenger’s side after putting the guitar into the backseat, making you frown slightly.

You went into the driver’s seat, putting the plushie to sit in the backseat so you could drive while Eddie held his flowers on his lap. He was surprised you had gotten him roses, and he couldn’t stop lavishing over them. As you drove, you put music for each other, and he was babbling away about how the guys wanted to have a call with the two of you together on camera.

“Oh, that’s kinky.” Was your comment and you noticed Eddie nervously chuckling and– Was he nervous? Shit, were you too forward? You didn’t take into account he was as nervous as you. Maybe that’s why he is not making any moves? Not even holding your thigh?

Fuck, you wanted to jump on him and you had to calm down.

Once you got into your small complex, he was in awe when he entered your apartment. It was big for just one person, and he knew your apartment by now. You had given him a tour but it seems that showing him through video it may have looked a bit smaller than what he had expected. He put the carry on at the entrance as well as the balloons.

“We should put these in water, I don’t want them to go bad.” He commented, still holding onto the flowers which warmed your heart. You guided him into the kitchen, grabbing a vase and filling it with water, letting him put the flowers in it. Your plushie was left on the dining table so now, your hands were free as well as his. It was already night time, and you just wanted to hold him right now, needing to feel him in your arms again and–

“Did you have dinner yet?” You asked, wanting to cringe at yourself. The air was a little tense, and your self doubt and nervousness was making you feel a little awkward. Maybe it’s not what he expected?

“I didn’t actually, and as far as I remember sweetheart, you told me there was a pizza place here that was fucking delicious.”

“Pete’s. And it will be the best pizza you ever had.” You smiled up at him, swaying a little as you put your hand on the counter. You saw him breathing a bit heavily, nervously, and he cleared his throat.

“I’ll be the judge of that.” He smiled and you realized he was not going to make a move at all. You don’t want to hover over him, or read the signs wrong. Fuck. You were becoming restless, even more when you sent a message to the pizza place so you could order and for them to deliver it to your house.

Meanwhile, Eddie was walking around your apartment, gushing over all the consoles you had. He knew you had them but it was still amazing to him to see them there. He explained to you how he could only afford the Playstation 2 when he made money out of selling weed at his school. You could only smile through your nerves as you both waited for the pizza, sitting on the couch… rather apart.

Why was he far away? Did he not want to hold you in the same way you wanted to hold him? It was Valentine’s day and he was sitting on the far end of the couch, and you have waited for months for this moment. Should you really take the initiative here? Were you giving wrong signals? No, you’re pretty sure you aren’t. You have batted your eyelashes, you have brushed your fingers against his when handing him the can of beer, your eyes went to his lips many times and he either was not seeing it or– he was playing dumb.

Dark clouds invaded your mind as you went to the bathroom, messaging Heather immediately.

‘He is not doing anything.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘He hasn’t even tried to kiss me yet, and the pizza is about to arrive, and all we did was talk, which is nice, but we’ve been doing that for five fucking months.’

‘Okay, maybe you should kiss him? Or just talk to him?’

‘What if he doesn’t…?’ You felt like your heart was about to burst as you thought of that possibility. What if you weren’t what Eddie expected in real life? What if it became way too real for him that he was now regretting ever coming to your house? What if he regretted breaking the illusion that he had of just looking at the screen?

‘I’m sure there’s an explanation… talk to him, don’t be a fucking idiot.’

You heard the doorbell ring and you flushed the toilet, pretending you went in there to just do your business. You walked out to see Eddie looking at the intercom with a frown in his face, seeing the pizza guy on the camera.

“How the fuck do I talk to him?” You laughed as you walked towards it, standing next to Eddie, pressing the button to talk.

“Hi Pete, come on up.”

“Thank you, honey!” The old man said as you pushed the open front gate button. Eddie’s eyebrows raised in awe at it and then he frowned.

“Wait, Pete?”

“Yeah, the owner!” You smiled at him as you walked to your door, standing on your tippy toes to look through the peephole, your hips swaying excitedly as your mouth watered. You felt eyes on you, but maybe you were just making it up in your mind so that the horrible thoughts would go away from you. You saw Pete coming over and you immediately opened the door, a smile on your face.

“Hello lovely.” He greeted you and you grabbed the pizza from his hands, handing him the money and the large tip you always give him. “You know you always give me too much.”

“No, I don’t. Don’t know what you’re talking about.” The man rolled his eyes and then he saw Eddie standing behind you, waving at him.

“Oh, what a lucky guy you are!” You felt your cheeks burn up as you giggled nervously.

“That I am, Pete!” You heard Eddie say and that just made you feel even more confused than before. The old man smiled, tipping his head down once and gave you both a nod.

“Well, I better leave you two alone. Happy Valentine's!” With that, Pete turned and left, letting you close the door and lock it. He could get out of the gate with a button he could press from the inside, so you didn’t have to bother with that one. The smell of pizza filled your nostrils and you moaned in delight as you walked towards the couch.

“This smells so fucking good.” You sat down, looking back to see Eddie just blinking, staring at nothing. “Eddie?”

“Oh–” He snapped out with a shake of his head, his curls bouncing around. “Yeah, yeah, it does.”

He rushed to sit next to you, and you turned on the TV to at least put something as background noise. You decided to put ‘The Office’ which Eddie and you had binge watched together, having never seen it before. When you opened the box, you saw that Pete had followed your instructions, a smirk appearing in your face. Eddie’s eyes widened, a laugh escaping his lips.

“Oh my god.” He saw the pizza in the shape of a heart, and you giggled at how amazed he looked staring down at it. “How am I supposed to cut into this masterpiece? There’s absolutely no way.”

“Well, we do have to eat.” And that you both did. You dove in, the voices of the show in the background as he gushed over the pizza, and he had to agree with you that it was in fact the best he’s ever had. He told you that the pizzas back in Hawkins will now taste like cardboard compared to this masterpiece.

“Tell Pete he is a god. Like a literal god because, holy fuck.” You heard him groan in delight as he licked his fingers, wiping his hands with a napkin as he collapsed on the backrest of the couch, his eyes closed as if he were full. He only ate two slices, and Eddie was used to eating at least four. You once saw him eat a full sized pizza, claiming he hadn’t eaten anything since lunch.

“I’ll tell him.” You didn’t want to sound tense or irritated, but you were so happy to have him here and now you didn’t know if you were being selfish for wanting something more to happen, or if you were sad because nothing was happening at all, or if you were anxious and fearful of the possibility that Eddie did not like you in person, as much as he liked you online.

You grabbed the remaining pizza with the box, surprised still that there are slices left. You also didn’t eat much thanks to the nerves, something your stomach would yell at you later at night, but for now, you were afraid of puking it all out. You stood up and walked to the kitchen, opening the fridge to place the entire box in there, not wanting to deal with putting it away in tupperwares to save space.

What should you do now? Should you follow Heather’s advice and talk to him? But what if you make everything become a little more tense than what it already was now? You didn’t know what to do, and Eddie was not helping your case at all. You sighed as you washed your hands in the sink, letting the grease be washed away. You dried your hands with the kitchen cloth before walking out, seeing that Eddie was no longer on the couch.

You frowned, completely confused, until you heard the water of the sink in the bathroom. You grabbed the remote and turned off the TV, walking towards your room, where your whole setup was as well. The bed was completely pressed into a corner, your LED lights in a perfect purple hue, fairy lights in the shape of stars were lit up across the wall, holding pictures of your friends, your family, the boys back in Hawkins and Eddie. There were a lot of Eddie.

The door of the bathroom opened, and you turned to see Eddie walking towards your room, his eyes widening at the color of the room and then the yellow from the fairy lights, as if it were a purple sky with stars. He walked further in, looking at your entire PC, whistling out loud. You could only stare at his back, dressed in all black, completely contrasting with your room.

“Damn, look at this… The pictures don’t do it justice.” Your setup was big. You had three monitors, and a very well updated PC. You needed your computer to be able to have a very fast response time because of your work. Video game 3D blending required a lot from your PC so you always kept it up to date.

“It was an investment when I started my studies, but I gave my mom her money back in the first three months of my job, even if it was three years later.” You explained and he nodded, looking all around your room, for his eyes to then fall on your bed and then the pictures above it, attached to the fairy lights.

You looked at his profile as he inspected them, and your heart was bursting with need, lava from a volcano just exploding right inside it. You couldn’t hold it in. The guy in your pictures was no longer far away from you. He was no longer miles and miles away, where you could not touch him. He was in your room. He was here with you. He was standing in front of you.

“Didn’t know you hung these up…”

And you exploded.

“Why?”

His head turned to look at you, a frown appearing in his face as you stared at him. His face softened when he saw how you were looking at him. Your face was showing him distress, confusion, nervousness, and a bunch of questions that were at the tip of your tongue.

“Why what?” He asked, a nervous smile appearing on his lips and– Now you definitely know something was wrong. You could absolutely see it. You stepped forward and you saw how he stiffened in place. You didn’t know what was going on, but at least he didn’t move away from you because you were able to finally step close to him. Your head tipped back so you could properly look up at him.

“Why don’t you do something?” You saw his gulp, how his eyebrow twitched and his smile fell, and you could feel your entire inside crumble apart. Was he going to tell you now that you weren’t what he had expected? That it became way too real for him that he could barely handle it?

“Darling…”

“Am I not– You don’t like me? I– Am I not what you expected?” Your voice was small, and broken, your eyes burning with incoming tears, and his own widened, desperately reaching out for you to hold your biceps tightly, pulling himself closer to you.

“Don’t you ever think that. Not for a single damn second.” His voice was honest, rough with emotion, so now you were confused as he clenched his jaw. “You are way more than I– Than I fucking deserve to have. I have no idea how the fuck I even bagged someone like you.”

“But– But I don’t understand… You haven’t even tried to kiss me, or hold my hand… You sat so far away from me–” He closed his eyes as he took a deep breath in. You blinked for a few seconds, and… did he lie to you? “Eddie… are you… a virgin?”

“WHAT?” His voice was loud, and it startled you, making you jump in your spot. His eyes pierced your skull almost in a glare, only to then soften as a sigh escaped his lips. “For fucks sake, I am not.”

“Then I honestly don’t get it now.” You were angry. You started becoming irritable, annoyed, and you wanted answers. He took a deep breath in, leaning down to press his forehead against yours, closing his eyes. His cologne made you calm down instantly, your heart skipping a beat from having him so close to you again. The closest he’s been with you today was the hug you received when seeing each other for the first time.

“I… I won’t be able to hold back.”

You blinked completely confused a few times, looking into his eyes for answers.

“What? What do you mean by that?” He sighed as his hands moved, sending chills down your entire body. They grabbed your waist, giving it a squeeze as he found his voice again.

“I didn’t want you to think I was meeting you right now just to wet my dick… I don’t want you to think that I came to visit you just for that…”

Now you… you were enraged.

“Are you a fucking idiot, Edward?” His eyes widened as he pulled his head back to look at your face. It was all tensed up with anger, eyes staring into his with a glare.

“I– Uh… what?”

“You made me fucking doubt myself all day, thinking I wasn’t what you expected! Or that– Or that this was way too fucking real and you became scared and you regretted coming here–” Your eyes started burning once again and you hated yourself for always tearing up when you started an argument. You always felt that stupid lump in your throat, even when you were angry, you got emotional. His eyes were wide, his head shaking from side to side like crazy.

“No, no, no! I’m so sorry I made you feel like that but… it wasn’t. No… It’s– The complete opposite of that.” The room started losing that tensed up air that was filled with anger and misunderstandings, your eyes now softening as you looked at him. His face looked flushed, his eyes were now a bit dilated, looking down at you with a different gaze, one you saw many times on video call when you changed in front of him.

“Then?”

“If I kiss you… I won’t be able to hold back… That’s why I haven’t done it all day. I would have, probably, broken a million laws.” You bit your lip as you looked up at him, your body rising in temperature the more you stared up at him and he looked down at you with that hunger in his eyes you knew too well.

“Eddie… I waited for this for months… I want it too…” Your arms went up to wrap around his shoulders, nerves turning your stomach inside out but they were good nerves. They were amazing nerves. His breath hitched only to then quicken, his hands squeezing your waist once again. “And I don’t want you to hold back.”

That seemed to be his green light. What seemed to be the last string holding him to rationality, and it was literally snapped by you. His lips immediately clashed into yours, sparks flying all around you as electricity ran all over your body. Goosebumps formed on your skin and you sighed happily into the kiss. It was soft, deep, but still not moving.

He groaned into it and slowly pulled away with a smack, his breath hitting your lips, his eyes still closed. You felt his hands moving, wrapping himself around you, pulling you even closer. He pressed your body against his and you wanted to already moan with how warm he felt. You felt his lips peck yours again, and then pull away.

“Oh, fuck…” Then another peck, your bodies moving. “Fuck, sweetheart–” You didn’t know why he was cursing, yet he gave another peck, a longer one. “I’m done for.” And then one more kiss, “I’m so fucking done for.”

You finally felt your bed hit the back of your knees as his lips started moving against yours in a desperate manner. Nobody had ever kissed you like this. You’ve never felt as desired as you’re feeling right now. His hand went downwards to grab the back of your right thigh and pull it up, pressing it against his hip. His left knee then hit the bed, his other hand grabbing your other leg, and helping you up on the bed as he crawled into the middle of it with you.

Your lips never separated, not for a single moment. You were chained to him, not wanting to let go at any second, feeling like it’s a lost one if you did. Your back was pressed into the mattress, as your head clashed against your pillow. You could barely breathe as his hands left your legs after he slotted himself right in between them.

Your choice of clothes was now a pain to you. You should have put on something easier to take off, but you had chosen fucking pants. It was cold out, but it would have made this moment easier. His elbows came to rest against the mattress, one on each side of your head.

His hips still did not press against yours and you were becoming a little needy, desperate. So, you raised your hips upwards and rubbed yourself on him, making him wince against the kiss, pulling away to look down in between your bodies. You felt the bulge, the big bulge you’ve always looked at and desired to have in your hands, in your mouth and inside. He groaned as his eyes turned to yours again.

No words were exchanged as your hips were suddenly slammed into the bed again, a moan escaping your lips. He thrusted himself into you, giving you the wish of rubbing his hips against you. You sighed as your hands rubbed the back of his head, making you feel a little dizzy already. His lips immediately clashed with yours again, and you felt his hands all over you, just exploring all over your waist, hips, arms as his hips rubbed and rubbed and rubbed.

You moaned into the kiss, your body shivering when you felt the tip of his tongue entering your mouth, not even asking for permission and it wasn’t like he needed it. He didn’t. He could do whatever he wanted to you tonight. You were going to do whatever you wanted too. You both knew your likes and dislikes, what is okay and what is not. There was no need for questions or permissions.

He groaned into the kiss as you felt him twitch in his pants and against you. You clenched around nothing at all, and you wondered if you could cum by just him rubbing himself against you, because it felt like it. Your belly was burning. You were hoping you would not be able to walk after tonight, or after this entire week.

Your breathing turned heavy, your hands grabbing at his denim jacket, pulling onto it by the shoulders, and he got the message. He pulled away for a second, ripping the jacket away from himself, only to desperately drop himself back on you, kissing you hungrily once more. The clothes felt constricting now and the heat all over your body was making it feel worse. His tongue was just abusing yours in the most delicious of ways.

Eddie knew how to kiss.

Eddie kept his movements on you, up and down, circling and then some dry humping against you that was making you see stars behind your eyelids. He was driving you insane, and your thong, the red lace set you wore today, a set you bought a few days ago with this exact intention, was becoming a wet sticky mess because of this.

You wondered if you were soaking through your pants now, maybe getting the front of his wet and damp too. He was rubbing against your clit in meditated rolls, hearing where you moaned the loudest. He was paying attention to every single detail and reaction he got from you, now learning your body in person and not through a screen. It was like the practical part of an exam, the oral part having passed flawlessly.

Your hips moved with his as his right hand landed on your breast, making your back arch against him with need. You whined into the kiss, and he pulled away from you, a gasp being let out by you. You were so sensitive. The emotions were making your entire body react to the simplest of his touches.

“You are so fucking perfect.” Your mouth dropped open when his lips connected to the pulse point of your neck. His hand was still kneading your breast over your hoodie, those you loved to wear. Oversized and comfy, but right now, it was something you wanted to rip off of you as if it were burning your fucking skin.

“Eddie… Baby, I need to take it off–” He nodded desperately against you, but before leaving your neck, he gave a soft nibble with his teeth, making you whimper. He kneeled as you sat up, and before you could grab the hem of your hoodie, his hands were almost ripping it off from your body. He pulled it off of you in an instant, leaving you in just your tank top. You saw him lick his lips, and you wanted more, you needed more. Your hands instantly went to the hem of his shirt and he helped you, gladly, to take it off.

Your mouth watered as you saw the chest you’ve only been seeing through a screen for months, finally being able to touch it, kiss it and– Your tongue darted out, licking his chest in an upwards motion, your eyes closed. He threw his head back, shoving the shirt to the abyss, he didn’t care. Your hands scanned his sides, fingertips gliding against the skin, feeling him tense up and his chest hitch when your lips gave a kiss to it.

He growled, cradling your cheeks in his hands, making you look up at him in a quick and rough motion you didn’t dislike, but it made you stop your kisses and kitten licks against his chest, over his tattoos. His lips crashed against yours again, deep and desperate only to then be pushed back down on the bed. He was towering over you, chest moving up and down rapidly, his eyes looking down at the button of your jeans. You gulped as you moved your hips to signal him he could move.

So he did. His hands instantly rushed to rip the button open and pull the fly down. Your nerves started coming back as he crawled backwards and he started tugging at your jeans, pulling them down and off your body desperately. Off they went, including your socks and then you felt your legs wanting to close but– You had prepared yourself for this. You should let him look, so you kept them spread. Once his eyes turned to look at you again, they were instantly glued to the red lace covering the wet heaven he had wanted to touch and taste for so long.

“Oh, and it’s all for me, isn’t it sweetheart?” His voice was deep, rough and sultry and it was as if he wasn’t really asking you, but more like he was reassuring himself in fact like he said. And it was.

“Mhm~ All of it, Eds…” Your voice small, pretending shyness, that shyness that drove him insane. You heard a growl coming from him, his clouded eyes still staring down at your moving hips, waiting for him to do something. You clenched around nothing when he roughly grabbed the back of your knees and pulled them apart even more, and away.

“Let me taste this pussy that’s been driving me crazy for fucking months.” Your breathing hitched at the possessiveness he was talking with. His hands moved and his arms hugged your thighs as his body lowered, his stomach pressing against the mattress as his face came to stare at your throbbing slit, and he could see how wet the lace was. How drenched and dark the fabric had gotten.

You couldn’t even process his words that your mouth was falling in a silent ‘o’, his mouth latching on the thong like a leech. Sucking and licking on it and if it felt good like this, how would you feel when he uncovers it? Your hands gripped the sheets beneath you as he kept licking pointedly into where your slit was, digging the fabric into it a bit.

Then he rode the tongue upwards, the pointy licks now against your clit, making you moan, letting the breath out of your lungs. Your body started feeling the heat travelling all over, and you should have touched yourself or something before he came over because you’re pretty sure you’re going to cum any second.

He pulled away, his fingers grabbing onto the elastic of your thong, and he kneeled up to pull them down your legs. You helped him do just that and he smirked when he saw the little string of your wetness disconnecting from your center. That’s how wet you were. His jaw clenched when he finally got the thong off, but this one, he made sure to see where it landed, planning on taking it back with him. Probably frame it.

Your legs now did close while his head was turned, your knees together and leaning your way. You felt a little more exposed now, you couldn’t help it. It’s been a while since you had sex in general, this would happen no matter what. The shyness, the embarrassment. But when Eddie turned his head back around, he shook his head, glaring down at you.

“I’m having none of that.” His hands roughly grabbed onto your knees and he spread them apart, your center opening up for him, and you just flushed all over, feeling embarrassed but more aroused than ever. He was a starved man, no, animal. He was staring down at it as if it were the answer to all of his prayers. His body moved downwards, in the same position he was before, but this time, his hands gripped your inner thighs, keeping your legs spread.

He was going to make sure to taste you completely.

His tongue darted out, finally pressing it against you, making you jerk upwards, completely taken aback by how good it felt and it was a simple press of the tongue. You were done for tonight. He hummed and moaned as he tasted you, and then–

“Fuck– Oh– Fuck!” Your voice was loud, your breathing loud as in one single moment Eddie was just looking at you after tasting you, and the next his mouth and tongue were everywhere. He sucked on your clit, kissed it, the tip of his tongue doing stripes in your center, up and down, teasing you about entering it.

He was all over you, his fingers digging into your flesh, not caring if he leaves a mark, and if he does, good. Your head was thrown back into the pillow as he flicked his tongue back and forth on your clit, your hands flying to grab onto his head. He was still moaning, hips rutting into the mattress just by eating you out. You were absolutely delicious and he probably won’t get enough of you at all.

“Better than what I imagined. So fucking sweet.” He hummed into you, and you felt your body start trembling, the pleasure making up a fog in your mind you hadn’t felt in so long. Suddenly, your eyes widened, feeling his tongue going inside, his nose hitting your clit as he made nodding moves with his head and his tongue moved around inside of you.

“Eddie– Eddie, baby, oh my god–” Your breathing was heavy, moaning his name out as if it were a god, and to you, he was one right now. Your belly clenched and burned and you could feel your climax creeping in by the minute. Eddie was happy to keep ravishing you, to keep tasting you, to keep making you fall apart.

You felt one of his hands leave your inner thigh as well as his mouth, letting the air hit you and then a sharp breath, making your wetness become cold, a whimper ripping out of your throat. He chuckled as he saw your hips jerk from the air he blew, and then you tensed up when you felt his finger running through your slit to coat it with your juices. And then he entered. You wished he hadn’t taken his rings off to eat that pizza. You wanted those inside of you, he wanted them inside of you. He had told you as such.

His mouth bit the inside of your inner thigh as he kept moving his middle finger inside of you, feeling your warmth around him. Your back arched as he bit, and a moan ripped away from your throat. Your hands now gripped the pillow under your head, right by the edges. He started pumping his finger, in and out of you, and you were in bliss as you moaned his name in order to ground yourself in the moment.

So many fantasies in your head, of him touching you, of him moving on you, of his fingers entering you and making you see galaxies. You could only guess Eddie would be good with his fingers just by the fact that he played guitar. And, he was probing that fact right now and with just a single finger.

He sucked on your skin as his eyes kept looking at how his finger glistened whenever it was pulled out of you. His hips kept rubbing against your mattress, the creaking of it ringing in his ears just by you moving your hips against his hand. He growled as he got his ring finger inside as well, and he finally curled his fingers inside of you. Your eyes widened, your head thrown back as you felt him inspect you, looking for something, rubbing and circling and wiggling and–

“OH–” Your hips jerked upwards at one particular movement. He quickly pressed his free hand on your hip, pushing you down to keep you in place, a smirk spreading on his lips.

“Found you.” Your body was combusting into itself as he kept abusing that part inside of you that no one ever bothered to find. No one ever bothered to look for it and you were feeling your body about to snap the more he rubbed his fingers against it. You were sure you were going to cum soon as you felt your belly start to turn, clench inside of you, and your walls fluttered around his fingers. There’s nothing that could make this better–

Except his tongue latching onto your clit as his fingers never stopped moving. You’ve never felt like this. Your hips were moving by themselves against him, needing more, and your moans were so loud that you were glad you had rented out a very thick walled apartment complex. You were probably heard anyways, but you honestly could care less right now.

He was sucking and biting on you and your body thrashed around as you kept your mouth open. Heavy breaths and moans escaping you without any restraint, not being able to feel anything else but the pleasure your boyfriend was giving you. Then, the stars slowly started to appear as your walls clenched and unclenched in warning.

“Ed– Eddie– I’m gonna–”

“Yes, fuck yes, cum for me. I’ve been waiting for it, cum for me.” And that was all the green light you needed as you back arched off your bed, your head turning to the side as your eyes clenched tightly, holding the pillow in a death grip and making it cover your mouth to try to stifle your sounds a little bit more. You clenched all around him, your orgasm crashing on you like a trainwreck, your belly just contorting into itself as you felt him quicken his movements, riding your orgasm out.

You were gasping as your body remained tensed up, the loud squelching of his movements becoming louder thanks to how wet you became as you came and you came and you came because it felt never ending. You didn’t even notice his mouth was no longer on you, his upper body hovering over you as his right hand kept moving inside of you as he held himself up with the other one against the mattress, right next to your head.

He was looking at your contorted face. A face he’s seen multiple times on camera, on pictures you especially took for him. You started to unclench as your body slowly relaxed, twitched every other second thanks to the aftershocks of your orgasm. It was the best and biggest one you ever had. You felt him stop his movements, slowly, until then he pulled out, making you sigh.

Your eyes opened, blinking a few times to center yourself and then you turned your head to see him looking down at you. You realized he had stared at you during your climax and you felt a little embarrassed but you couldn’t even speak that you saw the fingers that were inside of you come into your vision, your breath heavy as you stared at all the juices that were on them. His eyes went towards them, the wetness moving down his palm, towards his wrist.

His tongue darted out to lick it away, from his wrist to his fingers before putting them into his mouth to taste you again. He moaned into them, closing his eyes, and your own were wide at how filthy everything was, yet so deliciously amazing. He got his fingers out of his lips with a pop and then he looked down at you once again after opening his eyes once more, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Delicious. You’re so fucking perfect… So perfect.” You whined at his praise, your hands reaching out, arms wrapping around his shoulders as he leaned back down, kissing you desperately. You tasted yourself in his mouth, on his tongue, and it was all a little intoxicating. But, even if your body twitched, trembled, you needed more. You were not satisfied. Your thighs closed on his hips as he pressed himself against you again.

You wanted him so much, so much that it was a little bit frightening to you. Now, it was your turn to become an animal. You used your strength to signal him you wanted to turn him. He followed your directions, letting himself fall and roll you two in a different position. You were now straddling him, chest against his as you kissed him desperately. He chased after you when you pulled away and sat back onto him. Your eyes were darkened, pupils fully dilated as your hips moved against his bulge and he hissed, his head rolling against your pillow.

“You like that, baby?” You asked sweetly, and he groaned, nodding desperately. You bit your lip as you grabbed onto the hem of your tanktop and you ripped it off your body in just one second. His eyes were now glued to the matching red bra you had on.

“Oh fuck… Please tell me you took a picture of yourself in this…” He asked, making you smirk and you had in fact taken one… or more. And maybe a video.

“If you behave, I’ll think about sending those to you.” He bit his bottom lips as his hips jerked upwards and you knew you were staining his jeans, but he didn’t care, nor did you. Not when you were about to take them off. You moved backwards, your eyes falling to his belt. Your hands undid it as quickly as they could. You were breathing rather heavily still, and if you had your tongue out, you bet you would be drooling with anticipation, knowing what was under these pants and boxers.

Once the button and zipper were undone as well, it was your turn to take the pants off, but you added his boxers in the mix, killing two birds with one stone. Your patience was wearing thin right now, and you couldn’t handle wasting any more time with him. He helped you rip the rest of his clothes off, throwing his pants and boxers off and you almost fell back from how desperate you were.

You heard the thud of his clothes on the floor and then your eyes finally saw it. Oh, pictures and videos did it no justice. Your mouth watered as your eyes looked at every detail, the veins, the tip, the length, the girth… the tattoo. The fucking tattoo on the underside of his cock. Fuck. You were sure you’re getting wetter again just by looking at him. You didn’t notice how Eddie’s eyes were looking at you as he held himself up on his elbows.

He saw the lust filled look in your eyes, and he could swear he saw your pupils turn into literal hearts as you sighed happily, your hands rubbing on his thighs as you slowly leaned down. His breathing hitched, a broken breath being taken in. Your eyes didn’t leave it for a single second. You were fascinated. You kept your ass up as your upper body lowered more and more. Your nails dragged across his belly when you finally reached the height you needed to have him right in front of your eyes.

Your tongue licked your lips to moisten them, getting them ready to finally taste what you’ve been craving for so long. You gave his tip a tentative kiss, making it twitch instantly. He wanted to throw his head back but he needed to watch you. He needed to engrave this to memory. He is sparing this time because it’s your first time with each other… but he will throw it on the table the next day.

He wants to record you just like this, and much more.

Your tongue lolled out now, your hand coming to grip it to keep it steady as you passed your tongue along the shaft, towards the tip. You heard Eddie groan loudly, wanting to jerk his hips upwards in you, but holding himself back from doing so, letting you have your own moment. Your lips finally closed on his tip, and his body shivered underneath you.

You closed your eyes as you moaned with delight, just sucking the tip of his length to then pop it out. You suddenly spat on it, so you could lube it up in order for your hand to help you in those places you couldn’t reach with your mouth.

“Fucking christ…” You heard him curse with a hiss and you wanted to laugh cockily at him, but you didn’t want to ruin the moment. You finally guided him into your mouth, your movements slow, tongue swirling around him as you went. Maybe it was your imagination going a little wild, but somehow he tasted so good, and you blamed the tattoo for it, as if it were an exotic spice.

He gulped with a sigh, his elbows slowly starting to give up on him the more you moved your head. Your movements quickened, the noise of slurping being added into the mix and you could feel him falling onto the bed with a thud. His hands came to lay on the sheets, gripping onto them so he wouldn’t grab your head, not wanting to force you. His eyes rolled to the back of his head and you finally heard him moan your name. Sigh it out.

That was one of the most beautiful sounds you’ve ever heard. You had heard him before, but it was different in real life. It was his voice. In real time. No interference or internet filter to cover it or mess with his vocal chords. It prompted you to move quicker, play with your tongue against his frenulum, making him whimper and jerk his hips into your mouth, making him gasp when you gagged slightly.

“Shit– Are you okay–?” His head looked down, worry shining through the lust, only to find you smiling as you looked at his cock, before going back in. He chuckled in amazement and it was his go to grab your head with his right hand, just letting it sit there as you did your own pace and movements.

You liked it. You liked the roughness, you had told him you didn’t mind soft and sweet, but you preferred rough and desperate. He is surely giving you that tonight. Your mouth was quick on him, and you could taste some precum in your tongue as you did so. You moaned into it, sending vibrations that made him moan and shiver underneath you.

“Mmmh–” You popped him out of your mouth to then lick his entire length and he sighed your name until he felt the tip of your tongue running on him, and suddenly he chuckled in awe once more.

“Sweetheart, you’re fucking tracing my tattoo with your tongue?” You were in a trance as you kept doing it, giving a dumb little nod. “Shit, that’s so fucking hot–”

“Been wanting to do this for so long… Wanted to trace it–” His resolve broke that second, wondering how many times had you imagined this and dreamed of it. His fingers snaked in your hair, deep, and then he gripped your scalp, making you whimper. The pain was nothing, it only added to the pleasure and it made you tremble as he was on his elbow, looking down at you.

“Think you can be a good girl for me and take me all?” You nodded desperately, looking at him with those eyes he fell for. Puppy eyes. He guided you towards the tip and you opened your mouth instantly, letting him go back into your warmth. Your hands stayed on his thighs, and his free hand gripped the sheets tightly, guiding you further and further and then– he controlled your movements.

He made you bob your head on him, up and down, setting the rhythm himself and you didn’t mind him. You clenched around nothing when you started feeling him hit the back of your throat. You relaxed, knowing what was going to come next and then you breathed through your nose. Once he heard you take a deep intake of breath, he pushed you down, slowly, but roughly.

Your eyes teared up as you finally felt him down your throat. Your nose was deep into his hairs, something he trimmed but kept because you told him you liked it. You breathed through your nose as you focused on not gagging. You moaned into it knowing it would send vibrations to him, causing him to moan your name, feeling his hips move underneath you with need.

But you could hold on for so long, your body slightly jerking as your throat closed on him. The gag making Eddie pull you back up and get himself out of your mouth. He looked at your fucked out face as tears ran down your cheeks, and drool was slipping out the corner of your mouth. Seeing it live was making him feel a little dizzy, and your clouded eyes were not being any help.

You couldn’t wait anymore, your body climbing up on him as he let go of your hair, his hand falling to your hip as your dripping cunt rubbed against his length, right over the tattoo. He sighed, his eyes closing for a second as he enjoyed the friction, the warmth of you. Your hands went to your back, unhooking the bra open. At the sound, Eddie’s eyes found you, taking the straps down your arms, and your last piece of clothing was long gone.

“Oh, fuck sweetheart–”

“Eddie, can I? Please–” Your voice was desperate, whiny, and your hips kept moving back and forth on him, whimpering each time your clit rubbed against his shaft. His eyes were focused on your breasts, his fingertips digging into your skin, and then he nodded quickly, giving you the go.

You smiled, delighted. Your hips raised up enough for you to get your hand in between the two of you. Your hand grabbed onto his cock, guiding him to your entrance, which was so ready to receive him. You two had gotten tested, knowing what was going to transpire the moment you met, and you were so glad you were on birth control to regulate your cycle. This way, you can feel him completely. Raw. You started sinking down, your mouth falling open as his tip started to stretch you, then the rest and, fuck–

“Holy fuck, holy shit–” He was cursing as he looked between your bodies, seeing himself disappear inside of you as your face was still in a contorted state of pleasure. Your voice was gone as you kept sinking down, and you couldn’t wait how it felt to have him bottom out inside of you. You already felt full, and you barely went halfway down on him. It wasn’t even painful, thanks to his prep, to your orgasm, the one he caused.

Finally, you slammed down on him, a loud slap bursting in your ears at your skin hitting his. He choked on a moan at bottoming out inside of you while you trembled in ecstasy, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your nails scratched on his chest for support. Your breathing was heavy, and Eddie could finally refocus on you once more. You were adjusting to him, your head moving back to look down at him, your mouth still letting out breaths that drove him insane.

He was about to talk, only for you to start moving, lifting yourself up to then slam back down, a moan finally escaping your lips as a groan left his. His hands were gripping your waist as if his life depended on it. He felt so good inside of you, just like you always knew he would feel like. He fit perfectly, and you certainly have no idea how you will survive when you don’t have him anymore with you.

Your hips kept moving, going up and down, your tempo rising, the slamming of your hips against his turning louder as he hit deeper. Your moans filled the room, the strain on your legs nonexistent as the pleasure overtook you. The air grew thick thanks to your breath and his, the purple hue making him look ethereal underneath you, his eyes half-lidded as he sighed out in each slam.

It was desperate, it was dirty, the squelching of your pussy against his pelvis, knowing your juices were making a mess out of it. You waited far too long for this and you were going to enjoy every single second of it. His hands moved to get a hold of your breasts as you bounced on him, as you rode the soul out of him.

“Look at you sweetheart– Fucking look at you…” You whined at his words, your eyes closed as he hit you in that sweet spot you adored, your nippled getting in between his fingers for him to pinch and roll. Whimpers and moans leaving your lips at each shock of pleasure, and each time you came down, your clit would brush against his pubes.

“Eds– You feel so good, so damn good–” He grinned at your praise, a thin sheer layer of sweat appearing all over his body as he played with you however he wanted. Suddenly you slammed your hips against him, changing your movements to go back and forth, a gasp leaving your throat and your nails digging into his chest.

“You feel good, baby?” He asked smugly, containing his moans in as he saw you lean back, his hands falling to your middle, while your hands gripped his knees. Your clit kept brushing against him as his cock inside you kept slapping your g-spot. Your movements were fast, hips just swaying like a dance and your mouth remained open in the entirety of it. You nodded dumbly, your head falling backwards as you stared at your ceiling, feeling your eyes burn in pleasure.

“Uh huh, uh huh–” You couldn’t even form words as your belly coiled, twisted on its own. His eyes fell closed, head thrown back into the pillow as you just used him to your liking. Your movements slowed and your head went back to looking at him, your hips changing rhythm as you swayed them in circles and you raised them just a little, moving back down slowly on him. A huff left him as he noticed the change, his eyes opening again to stare at your form.

You were possessed. You didn’t even recognize yourself, never once thinking you would act this way when meeting him. You knew you would be needy, but never this. Never this animalistic. The creaking of your bed was loud, now noticing it just as you noticed your legs growing tired, the trembling evident, but you didn’t want to stop this feeling. Eddie noticed of course, sitting up so he could embrace you, his mouth immediately latching onto your right nipple.

Your arms immediately enclosed around his frame, hands digging into his hair as he rolled your sensitive nipple between his teeth, to then tug at it. You gasped between your moans as he let go of it, and then you let a breath out when he laid back on the bed, pulling you with him, your chest now against him. He chuckled with a breath, planting his feet on the bed, raising his hips upwards.

“My turn, isn’t it?” And the world became non-existent when his hips started slamming up into you, the slapping of skin loud enough for the people living at the very corner of the street to hear, your moans loud enough for the moon to listen to.

His movements were rough, quick, his hands gripping your body to keep you in place and for him to have leverage. His breaths were quick, a curse and your name escaping him here and there, your headboard hitting your wall, and you were certain you would have a noise complaint in the early morning, but that was a problem for the two of you in the future.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck!” You whined as his balls also slapped against you, and you knew tears were falling from your eyes as he kept thrusting, rutting into you. He grunted into your ear, his teeth nipping at your earlobe, which only made you whimper against him. Suddenly he slammed his hips into you, slow and deep, to then repeat the action, and then again.

He growled in each one, and then his hips stopped moving, still inside you, hips attached. You were both panting messes, drool dripping from your mouth from keeping it open all this while, falling onto the pillow and right beside his head. He lowered his hips, making you follow immediately, hitting the mattress once again.

“You alright, darling?” He asked breathlessly and you smiled, nodding against him, which only elicited a smug grin on his lips. “Good, because I’m nowhere done with you.”

Your world was flipped, him having turned you both, his body on top of you once again, and his lips crashed into yours. Immediate tongues and teeth clashing, your moans into his throat and his in yours. He groaned as he slowly started moving his hips into yours once again, the fire having never left you, nor did for him. His mouth was still in your ear as he kept talking to you, softly, in a rough whisper–

“You want to know what I had to do before getting off the plane?” His words were barely processing in your head, but you still understood him as his ministrations inside of you never stopped. You shook your head, but he was not having it. “Talk.”

“W-What?” You asked and he tutted, relishing in having turned you into a cockdrunk mess.

“What…?”

“What– Fuck, what did you do?” He hummed in approval, his breath hot in your ear, and if you thought this man couldn’t turn you on more than he was already, even when fucking you senseless, you were wrong.

“I had to jack off in the plane’s bathroom before landing.” You gasped as his hips rutted deep inside you, grunting into your ear before he continued. “I wouldn’t have lasted if I didn’t.”

You felt your belly burning, a moan escaping your lips with his name etched in it like a prayer. He chuckled through a huff, his movements still slow and meditated, his lips finding your neck once more, sucking on your skin to leave his mark. He was sure to mark you all up before he left, from head to toe, for everyone in your state to know you belonged to someone, that you belonged to him.

He will trace and retrace, leave your skin in red and purple markings. First mark? A necklace for your neck. So he continued moving, sucking onto your skin and biting onto it as he went from one side to another as you became a mess under him. Your nails were scratching the back of his neck, his back, reciprocating the marking in your own way. He could feel it, and he was going to proudly show it off before they fade away, going to make sure to prepare a gig so he could rip his shirt off in front of everyone so they could see.

His lips left your skin, his hands planting on the mattress on each side of your head to push himself up to admire his work. Your eyes were half lidded, completely blown out as your breaths left your pretty lips. A perfect necklace of hickies around your neck that looked way too good on you, a grin appearing on his lips.

“Perfect… Fucking perfect.” With those words, your arms fell to the sides as he slowly kneeled up, his hands running all over your body, creating goosebumps on your skin despite how hot you felt. He then gripped your waist, tightly, and you saw how his smile fell, his chest moving up and down in heavy breaths and then–

He started railing into you like a madman. More creaks. More slapping of skin. More squelching. More cries of pleasure leaving you as he abused your insides in the most delicious and addicting of ways. Your hands coming to grip the pillow underneath your head once again, your legs spread as you saw them bounce back and forth as he moaned over you.

“Uh– Ed– Eds!” He loved to hear his name coming out of your mouth like this. He can’t wait to record you, stash this in his secured folder in his phone for his use when he returns to Hawkins. His fringe was surely sticking to his forehead from the force of his movements, but he couldn’t stop. He wasn’t going to stop, not when you were a blabbering fucking mess.

You saw his contorted face, the pleasure just written all over it, the desperation. Your whole entire self was putty, letting him use you, letting him take whatever he wanted from you and you were enjoying it. You were loving it. You were loving him. You gasped when you started feeling that pressure in your belly grow, the climax building inside of you and Eddie could feel it the second your walls fluttered around him.

“Where is it?” He breathlessly asked and you didn’t even know if he said something until his movements stopped and a hand grabbed your cheeks, puckering your lips to catch your attention. His face was suddenly inches from yours. “I asked, where is it, darling.”

“Wha–?” You were so confused, your hips swaying so he would keep moving but his hips were grounded against you as he shook his head at you, his grip tightening around your face.

“Where’s the vibrator?” That little pink thing he saw you use millions of times, and you were trying to process his words in your head, your hand moving shakily towards your night table. He let go of your face so he could reach over, almost ripping the drawer open and he instantly saw it. He grabbed it, your eyes following his movements as they slowly widened, knowing what he was going to do. He smirked your way, licking his bottom lip as his finger pressed on the ‘on’ button, the little but powerful bullet vibrator coming to life.

“Eddie…” You called to him as he kneeled up, sitting back on his calves, his left hand still gripping your waist tightly as his right one held your vibrator, his eyes stuck on it.

“Intense little fucker, no wonder it’s your favorite to use, baby.” He gave it a kiss, sending a tremble all over your body, “Arch your back.”

You followed his instructions, and even if tired, you planted your feet on the bed, arching your back upwards. His hips started moving again, your hands gripping the pillow tightly once more as you whined, your mouth closed this time. The headboard started to slowly bang against the wall once more the more he picked up speed and your mind was gone.

It felt even deeper than before, more intense, and the position was making your spongy spot be hit perfectly in each thrust. He huffed in each one, trying to control his breathing as you moaned loud ‘ah ah ah’s’, and then, a cry was ripped from you when the vibrator was placed on your clit, your eyes widening at the sensation.

“You’re such a dream, so perfect for me, made for me–” He grunted as your body trembled underneath him, your orgasm now building at a quick and desperate pace. You would be surprised if you weren’t screaming his name.

“So good! Fuck– It’s so fucking good! Keep– Keep going, pleasepleaseplease–” You were begging, as if he were to even think of stopping. He felt you fluttering and clenching all around him, making him growl and grunt, your name slipping from his lips. He could feel his own climax reaching close now, but he was going to feel you one more time. He rolled the vibrator around your clit, flicking it against you as the hand on your waist helped you keep yourself arched against him.

“Yeah baby, scream my fucking name, come on–” He was touching heaven right now, the more you talked, the more you cried out, the more you clenched around him. Drool out of your mouth, tears out of your eyes, that fucking necklace he put around your neck. It will go so well with his pick necklace.

“Eddie– Eddie– Eddie, please!” You kept begging and begging the more you felt yourself tipping over the edge. The creaking of your bed and the banging of the headboard falling to deaf ears, only your moans and his, the vibrator and the slapping of skin the only sounds heard between these four walls.

“I know, baby, I know. Let go, come on, you can do it for me– Be a good girl, come on–” The praise was what sent you off, your face turning just like it did last time to muffle your moan, your cry, your yelp, as your body arched into him, your walls clenching around his cock, tighter than they did the first time. It prompted him to stop his movements, a loud grunt being heard from him as you saw stars behind your eyelids.

He could only rut his hips into you to help you ride your orgasm, keeping the vibrator to your clit, making your body convulse in ecstasy. He could feel his own body tensing up, the tightness making it impossible for him to hold himself back. He felt you slowly unclench around him, your body twitching against him. Once he knew he could move again, your insides now so smooth to glide into, his need for release made him go feral.

Your vibrator was thrown to the side, and he was panting as he leaned over you, letting your back touch the mattress once again. His hands gripped the top of your headboard as your body was folded, your hips now lifting from your mattress one more time, your body already sore, but he had to cum. He needed to cum. You needed to feel him inside of you, because you would let him mark you inside and out.

His hips slammed against you, jerking you upwards, a yelp coming out of your lips from overstimulation. He grunted in each thrust, your breath knocked out of your lungs as he did it slowly, yet rough. Slam. Slam. Slam.

“I’m– I’m gonna cum– I’m going to fill you up so good, jesus fucking christ–” And all it took was one last slam before he let himself sit inside of you, his eyes clenching tightly as he came, a moan escaping your lips as you felt him and then–

CRACK.

His hands slid from the headboard as you both suddenly dropped, a gasp escaping you. A choked breath left your lips the moment you two bounced, his body almost falling over you if it weren’t for his elbows that planted on each side of your head, your hips falling back down. Your heart was beating out of your throat, your lungs compressed from the scare and adrenaline.

What had just happened? You shivered when Eddie shuddered, a last spurt being shot inside of you. You were both panting, his face coming to meet yours after he looked around at what had happened.

“Sweetheart, did– did we just break your bed?” And you realised your mattress was now on top of broken boards, hinges, and your headboard was a little wobbly, holding onto the side rails that enclosed your mattress. You blinked a few times as your arms held onto Eddie, and then–

You laughed through your exhaustion, through the adrenaline, through the remainder of your climaxes, and he followed right behind you. Breathless laughs, gulping from the sudden realization of how dry your throats were, but the giggles never stopped. Your mind was now clearer thanks to the scare, thanks to how incredible it was that you two had managed to break your slats, despite the seller telling you they were very strong and sturdy.

“We… We did…” You replied through heavy breaths, huffs of laughter escaping you through them and he chuckled on top of you, his bun now a mess, to the point it was almost coming off.

“I’ll get you a new one… holy fuck…” You shook your head with a smile as you held his face, guiding him into a soft kiss this time, your heart bursting with giddiness.

“No, it’s okay…” He smiled down at you, all teeth, and pecked your lips once again, his breath hitting your face, strong exhales coming from his nose. He pulled away, and his eyes were just wide with amusement as you smiled up at him.

“Oof.” He sighed to then smile down at you. “Well, that was the biggest workout I had in a while.” You giggled, giving him a nod in understanding, your chest still heaving as you caught your breath.

“I can agree with you on that one…” You reached up to put a strand of hair behind his ear, a content smile on your face, not being able to hide your happiness despite your body aching all over. He huffed one more time, kissing the tip of your nose before he started to slowly pull out of you. You both groaned at the feeling, realizing how sensitive the two of you were. He sighed one more time, his eyes falling onto your center. They widened as he pulled himself up, almost falling over from how wobbly his legs were, making you laugh in confusion as you pulled yourself up with a whimper, but he stopped you.

“Stay there! Do not move.” He stepped over the side rails, once again, almost falling over. He grabbed his phone from the pocket of his jacket, and you could see his tongue poking out of his lips as he came back to you, his camera pointing directly at your pussy. Your eyes were wide with embarrassment, wanting to close your legs on him. “Nuh uh, no.”

“What are you doing!?”

“I am not missing the opportunity to take a picture out of this!” He smiled with victory as he snapped the photo and then looked at it. “Best Valentine's ever!”

He then showed it to you and you gasped as you saw his cum dripping out of you, and you immediately sat up properly, to then get up to clench your legs together, making him laugh.

“Not funny! It’s running down!”

The following events were funny, domestic even. You two went to the bathroom as Eddie apologized, lying of course, while you sat on the toilet waiting for every single drop of him to fall down into it. You both then washed yourselves with a wet washcloth each because you were too tired to take a shower. A slap being given at Eddie for the hickies, the extremely unhideable hickies, he left on your neck. A brush of teeth and deciding to just go to bed naked, Eddie’s suggestion with a wiggle of eyebrows.

“Easier access for when we wake up tomorrow.” You had smacked him on top of the head and while you got some water bottles from the kitchen, he had pulled the broken slats from underneath the mattress.

After finally hydrating yourselves again, and maybe eating another slice of pizza, even though you brushed your teeth minutes ago, you were finally laying on his chest as a new comforter covered both of you because the other one had to be desperately washed now… maybe even burned.

You sighed in contentment as you traced figures on his chest, your heart beating rapidly as he kept his arm around you, the other one on the back of his head, smiling at your ceiling. The purple hue in your room thanks to the led lights making it a calm atmosphere for the two of you now, instead of horny animals.

Your mouth opened and closed as you debated your next words. Should you? Would he run off? Would he get scared? Was it too soon? Maybe it was, but you needed to get the words out of your system before you exploded with them. The actions that had just transpired made your feelings just burst and grow tenfold than what they already were.

But he deserved it. He deserved every single word.

“Eds…”

“Mmm?” He was still smiling, his breathing now calm, relaxed, and your eyes clenched as you pressed your head even more into his chest.

“I love you.”

Silence. His body tensed all over, you could feel it underneath your palm, your body that was draped against his side. You fucked up. You did, didn’t you? You ruined it. You ruined his visit, the moment, the relationship, by simply moving too fast.

Yet, both his arms came to squish you close to him, eliciting an ‘oof’ from your part as he knocked the breath out of your lungs. He was hugging you, tightly, rocking the both of you with happiness, almost giggling with it.

“You fucking beat me to it! I was supposed to say it first! I was mustering the courage just now.” He replied and your eyes widened for a second as you processed his words, a smile bursting in your lips as you held him close, feeling the need to cry out of joy, sadness, and with hope.

“Then say it back, you idiot.” You claimed and he chuckled, moving so he could be facing you, both of you on your sides now. His hand came to trace your cheek softly, adoringly, as if he was etching your features into memory.

“I love you, my goddess.” There was a blush on his cheeks as he said it, and you knew he meant every word. You felt heat rush to your own cheeks, still smiling at him with devotion. He licked his lips nervously as he stuttered his next words. “Y-You know… Virginia doesn’t… look that bad.”

You were taken aback by his words and– Was he saying…

“Are you… implying you want to move… here?” You asked, your eyes wide, and now you realize Eddie had been having the same fears as you were. Moving too fast. In the eyes of strangers it might be, but after having him here with you… it didn’t feel fast at all.

“I mean– It’s a little too soon, and I need to… check finances and… get a new job and all… but, well– Gotta start thinking about it, you know.” He was looking down, trying to avoid your gaze. You really wanted to cry now. You never expected that playing a game would end in this situation. You smiled warmingly as your hand rested on his cheek, making him look at you once again.

“Mmm… I think that Charleston in West Virginia sounds… good.” He frowned and you knew he was confused. You remembered how Eddie told you he failed senior year twice, so maybe you had to be more specific. “It’s right in between Indiana and Virginia…”

His face softened, a warm smile appearing and his left hand rubbing your waist lovingly. You were making sure you both had equal distance between your family and friends. A distance where you probably didn’t need a plane ticket to visit. He gave you a nod, pulling you closer for his nose to touch yours.

“Then we better start planning, sweetheart.”

And that you did plan.

end

a/n: i just think that long distance eddie would be as feral as a rabid dog when meeting his partner for the first time ever. pls reblog, don't just like

divider by @thecutestgrotto

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fics #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things fic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #stranger things fanfiction

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jincapableoflove · 1 month ago

Text

A Jar Full of Us | one-shot

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: best friend! jungkook, best friend! reader, college! au, unrequited love (?), idiots to lovers, best friends to ??? to lovers, angst, fluff, implied smut.

Summary: You never meant for him to find them. Hundred little confessions, folded away, never meant to be read. But now, they’re in his hands. And Jungkook—your best friend—knows everything. But he doesn’t say a word. He just watches you, with that same unreadable expression, like he’s waiting for something. And this Valentine’s Day, you might just have to find out what.

Inspired by: To All the Boys I've Loved Before

Word count: 10.2K+

Warnings: arguments, jungkook is a jerk, misunderstandings (a lottt of it), angstttt, reader and jk are huge idiots, mutual pining, implied smut (its not too detailed so that the story maintains the emotional connectivity), romantic intimacy, tooth-rotting fluff.

MOODBOARD

A/N: HERE IT ISSS! this is the longest fic ive written! tysm for all the support yall have given me in the teaser of this fic. i put out a taglist thinking no one would actually want to be a part of it but so many of yall asked to be tagged 😭 im so grateful! tysm i hope you enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writng it. lmk ur thoughts abt it after u read too <3 ALSO HAPPY VALENTINES DAYYY (someone date me pls)

The door clicks shut behind you as you step into the dorm, kicking off your shoes with a tired sigh. The evening air still clings to your skin, carrying traces of laughter and the lingering warmth of Jungkook’s presence.

It had been another perfect night—one filled with inside jokes, stolen bites of each other’s food, and his usual exasperated attempts to get you to study.

Joy, your roommate, is nowhere in sight, giving you the solitude you need. You don’t hesitate. Your steps are purposeful as you cross the room, crouching down beside your bed. With practiced ease, you reach under the frame, fingers brushing against the familiar surface of a small pink, heart-shaped box. You pull it out carefully, as if it were a fragile secret, and place it on your lap.

A soft breath escapes you as you grab a nearby pen and a book, neatly tearing out a tiny slip of paper. The motion is second nature now. Without even thinking, you let your emotions spill onto the paper, crafting a fleeting moment into something permanent.

Tonight’s memory is simple, but it still tugs at your heart. Jungkook had sent you another blurry picture of the moon, captioned with a casual, “Looks kinda pretty, right?” He knew how much you loved the moon—how it fascinated you in a way you could never quite put into words. And he had remembered. Of course, he had remembered.

A fond smile tugs at your lips as you write:

Jungkook remembers the little things.

Once the ink dries, you fold the note with care and add it to the collection. The box is almost full now, brimming with countless tiny confessions—whispers of feelings you’ve never had the courage to say aloud. A hundred little moments, a hundred little thoughts, all dedicated to the boy who had unknowingly stolen your heart.

Jungkook.

Jungkook, your best friend, who always saves you the last bite of his food, even when it’s his favorite. Jungkook, who sends you blurry pictures of the moon just because he knows you love them. Jungkook, who insists on studying with you, despite his major being entirely different from yours, just so he can make sure you actually open a book instead of procrastinating.

This little tradition of yours had started as a joke. One night, after an especially soft moment where Jungkook had wordlessly placed his hoodie over your head because you were shivering, you had scribbled on a piece of paper: Jungkook is warmer than the sun.

You had smiled to yourself as you rolled up the paper and dropped it into the box. It had felt oddly nice—preserving that moment, capturing the feeling of it in something tangible. So you did it again. And again. And again.

Until, one day, you realized you had written over a hundred of them.

You hadn’t meant to fall in love. And you certainly hadn’t planned to confess.

But each tiny slip of paper holds a truth your heart refuses to say aloud.

And you're going to keep it a secret forever.

You met Jungkook almost three years ago, during freshman year. The first time you met him, he had been infuriatingly kind.

You had been struggling under the weight of a precariously tall stack of books, barely able to see over them, when suddenly, a few disappeared from the top. Startled, you looked up to see Jungkook grinning at you, effortlessly holding the books you had nearly dropped.

"You looked like you were about to tip over," he teased, his dark eyes twinkling with amusement.

With a playful huff, you had responded, "Maybe I wanted it to tip over."

Jungkook had only laughed, shaking his head. "I'll catch you next time," he had promised.

That night, you had written a tiny note and slipped it into your box: He wants to catch me when I fall, even without me asking.

From that moment on, your friendship grew in ways you hadn’t even noticed at first. Midnight walks and late-night study sessions became routine, pulling you closer together with every shared moment. What had started as swapping notes for the one class you had together turned into sharing secrets. Somewhere along the way, before you even realized it, Jungkook had become your favorite person.

The box was almost full now.

You had written so many things over the years, each note capturing a small piece of him, a fragment of your feelings. Some were simple observations:

Jungkook frowns when he eats something delicious.

His hair is always a mess in the mornings. He hates it, but I love it.

His eyes smile before his lips do.

But one night, you had written something different. Something deeper. Something that felt like the truest thing you had ever put to paper.

I love him.

The moment the ink dried, panic had set in. You had almost torn it up, almost removed it from the box as if keeping it there would somehow make it real. But in the end, you had left it. Because the box was safe. No one was going to see it.

Especially not Jungkook.

One afternoon, you came back from your classes, ready to relax and unwind before the stress of exams fully set in. You had been looking forward to a quiet evening, maybe even a movie marathon with Jungkook to take your mind off things for a while.

But the moment you stepped into your dorm, you felt something was off.

Joy was sitting on the couch, sipping her coffee, her expression smug—too smug. A knowing smirk curled at the corners of her lips as she watched you walk in, and instantly, your stomach twisted with unease.

You narrowed your eyes. "What did you do?"

"I did you a favor," she said casually, taking another slow sip of her coffee.

A cold shiver ran down your spine. "What favor?" you asked, dread creeping into your voice.

Joy grinned. "I found that little cute box of yours."

Your heart stopped. "What?"

"Don't look at me like that," she waved a hand dismissively, as if what she was about to say wasn’t about to shatter your entire world. "It was just sitting there collecting dust, and I thought—what a perfect Valentine's Day gift for Jungkook. So…I wrapped it up and dropped it off at his place."

Silence.

A deafening, all-consuming silence as her words echoed in your head.

"You WHAT?!"

Your entire body froze in place, your breath catching in your throat as horror washed over you in waves. Your chest felt tight, your pulse roaring in your ears.

Joy merely raised an eyebrow, seemingly unbothered by the sheer panic on your face. "You're welcome," she said cheekily—before promptly sprinting out of the room for her life.

But you couldn’t chase after her. You couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think past the ringing in your ears.

No. No. No.

This couldn't be happening.

Still desperate to deny the possibility, you dropped to your knees and scrambled to check under your bed, your hands shaking as you reached into the familiar space where you had hidden the box for years.

Empty.

It was gone.

The tiny wooden box that held a hundred little moments, a hundred little secrets—your secrets—was gone.

And now it was in Jungkook's hands.

Of all people…Jungkook.

Jungkook lived in an apartment a little further away from your dorm. The second the realization hit, you bolted out the door without a second thought, heart pounding so hard it nearly drowned out the sound of your footsteps against the pavement.

Your plan was simple—get to his apartment before he did. You knew his habits well enough to guess that he was probably grabbing a late lunch at that fast-food place near campus. If luck was on your side, you still had time.

He hadn’t seen it yet.

He couldn’t have seen it yet.

As you ran, your mind spiraled into chaos, bombarding you with every possible scenario—each one worse than the last.

What if he had already opened it?

What if he read through every single note?

What if he found the one that said I love him?

Your stomach twisted painfully at the thought.

Jungkook was your best friend.

He was your person.

And now, he might know that you wanted to be more than just friends.

The mere thought made your chest tighten as memories of the two of you flashed through your mind. The times you spent together at the arcade, the countless movie nights, the time you and Jungkook had crashed Jimin’s birthday party with a ridiculous amount of booze.

And then…there was that moment.

The moment you almost confessed.

"I wish I could find someone who truly understood me," he had said one night, his voice softer than usual, lost in thought.

And you had almost said it. The words had been on the tip of your tongue, so painfully close—"I do."

But you swallowed them down.

Because what if he didn’t feel the same way? What if saying those words ruined everything?

And now, thanks to Joy, you didn’t have a choice anymore. The truth was out there, sitting in a neatly wrapped box in Jungkook’s apartment.

The thought of his reaction sent your mind into overdrive.

Would he laugh?

Would he think it was weird?

Would he—

Would he reject you?

No. No. No.

You shook your head violently as you rounded the corner, lungs burning from the sprint. You’re going to get there before he does. You’re going to take the box back, and he’s never going to know about it.

That was the plan.

It had to work.

As soon as you reached Jungkook’s apartment building, you barely paused to catch your breath. Your legs ached from running, but panic kept you moving. You made a beeline for the mailbox section in the lobby, frantically scanning the names, searching for his.

Box 109.

You yanked it open.

Empty.

Your stomach sank.

Maybe his roommate took it upstairs? Yeah. That had to be it. Maybe it was sitting untouched on the kitchen counter, still wrapped, still safe, still unseen.

You latched onto that sliver of hope as you rushed up the stairs two at a time, unwilling to wait for the elevator. By the time you reached his floor, your hands were shaking. You raised a fist and knocked on the door, urgency making your knuckles sting.

No response.

You knocked again, harder this time.

Then—finally—you heard shuffling from inside. A few footsteps. The creak of the floorboards. A pause.

The door swung open.

And there he was.

Jungkook.

Standing right in front of you, framed in the dim light of his apartment, wearing an oversized grey hoodie that draped over his frame in a way that shouldn't have been so unfairly attractive. His dark hair was slightly damp, messy from a shower, strands falling into his eyes. His lips were parted in surprise, his brows slightly furrowed, and the expression on his face—confused yet soft, dangerously soft—made your already erratic heartbeat lurch violently.

But then, your gaze dropped to his hands.

And the world stopped.

The box.

The open box.

Your box.

Your secret, sacred collection of unsent confessions, of words meant only for the safety of your own solitude. The pieces of your heart you had never dared to show him.

You felt like you were going to be sick.

No, no, no, no—

"You—" You gasped, barely able to form words, chest rising and falling rapidly as you fought for air. "You opened it?"

Jungkook blinked, holding the box loosely in one hand, fingers curled around the edges as if he had been going through its contents just moments ago. He tilted his head, his expression unreadable.

"Yeah," he said simply, as if the weight of the universe hadn’t just come crashing down on you.

Oh. Oh no.

Your legs wobbled. You had to physically stop yourself from collapsing right there in front of him.

His gaze flickered downward, and you followed it instinctively. In his other hand, he held one of the notes. One of your notes. The handwriting was unmistakably yours, a little smudged, a little rushed, but still legible.

He cleared his throat, then read aloud.

"I don’t know when it happened. But one day, he became my favorite person."

Silence.

It stretched on for what felt like an eternity.

You thought you might actually pass out.

"Jungkook, I—" Your voice cracked, but before you could even attempt to explain, he looked up and met your eyes.

And then, to your absolute horror—

He smiled.

Not a teasing smirk, not an awkward grimace, but a real, genuine, knowing smile. A little shy, a little amused, as if the weight of what he had just discovered didn’t terrify him nearly as much as it did you.

And then—oh god—he spoke again.

"So… do you still think my hair looks best when it’s messy?"

Your breath hitched.

Your brain went blank.

You wanted to scream.

The change was almost instant.

In the days that followed, Jungkook became… different.

Not in the way you had imagined, though.

You had been bracing yourself for a talk—a conversation where he’d tell you gently, maybe even apologetically, that he didn’t feel the same way. Or, at the very least, a moment of awkwardness before things slowly went back to normal.

But instead, Jungkook just… pulled away.

It started subtly at first. He stopped texting as much. The late-night calls that once lasted for hours dwindled into one-word replies and seen messages. The casual lunch meetups, the spontaneous arcade runs, the easy, natural way he used to gravitate towards you in a crowded room—all of it changed.

And yet, despite the distance, he never fully let you go.

Instead, he turned it into a joke.

Like today, when he leaned in—far too close for comfort—during your shared class. His voice was low, teasing, the warmth of his breath fanning against your ear.

"So, I’m warmer than the sun, huh?"

You stiffened instantly, your hands tightening around your pen. He pulled back with a smirk, his dark eyes glittering with mischief as he watched your reaction unfold in real-time.

It was unbearable.

He kept doing it.

Whenever you tried to talk to him—really talk to him—he would either dodge the conversation entirely or turn it into something lighthearted, something unserious.

Like the time you finally found him alone, determined to just get it over with, to ask what had changed between you two. Before you could even get the words out, he cut you off with another one of those smirks, his voice laced with amusement.

"So I look best in black? Good to know."

And then he walked away.

That was when you finally got the message.

Jungkook had taken it as a joke.

He didn’t care about your feelings.

It was like the caring, affectionate boy you had known for years had vanished the moment your heart had been laid bare. Like now that the truth was out in the open, he didn’t know how to handle it—so he chose to mock it instead.

And worst of all?

He was pulling away from you completely.

The time you used to spend together? Gone. He was hanging out with other people now, filling his days with anyone but you. And when you did manage to cross paths, he only acknowledged you through those insufferable little comments, those cruel reminders of the things you had never meant for him to see.

It hurt. More than you wanted to admit.

Because maybe—just maybe—you had hoped that if he knew how you felt…

He wouldn’t push you away like this.

The next week brought the on-campus career fair—an event mandatory for all students. You weren’t particularly excited about it, but at least it was a distraction, something to keep your mind occupied.

Or so you thought.

Because that’s when you saw him.

And he wasn’t alone.

He was walking around with Hana, a junior from your college. They moved easily through the crowd, side by side, completely immersed in conversation. And then, to make things even worse—he laughed.

A real laugh. The kind that made his nose scrunch up and his eyes crinkle, the kind you hadn’t heard in what felt like forever.

Your stomach twisted.

You weren’t expecting him to make it this obvious.

If he wanted to reject you, fine. If he didn’t feel the same way, you could live with that. But did he really have to parade it around like this?

Maybe this was his way of sending a message. Maybe he wanted you to know, without actually having to say it out loud.

A silent rejection.

What a jerk.

These days, you barely have the motivation to attend classes. You go through the motions—waking up, dragging yourself to campus, sitting through lectures—but your mind isn’t really there.

Because no matter how hard you try to distract yourself, the brutal reality of rejection lingers like a shadow, following you everywhere you go.

Jungkook threw away your feelings like they meant nothing.

You should have expected it, right? You should have known this was how it would turn out.

Maybe you were never meant to be anything more than a friend to him. Maybe, the moment he realized you held deeper feelings for him, he got scared. Or worse—maybe he just didn’t care at all.

The thought makes your chest ache.

Jungkook has always been a romantic at heart. You’ve seen it in the way he talks about love, in the way he watches romance movies with a dreamy look in his eyes. But clearly, you were never part of that dream.

And now, because of your stupid feelings, you’ve ruined everything.

You used to be his best friend. The one he joked around with, the one he trusted, the one he leaned on.

But now?

Now he barely looks at you.

And if he does, it's only to throw some teasing remark your way—like your feelings were some kind of joke.

The person you were most angry at was Joy.

Not Jungkook. Not yourself.

Joy.

Because none of this would have happened if she had just left that damn box alone.

That day after the box incident, the moment you stepped back into your dorm, she was there, lounging on the couch like nothing had happened. She glanced up as you walked in, a smirk already forming on her lips.

“I didn’t expect you to come back so early. I thought you guys would—” she wiggled her eyebrows—“get freaky after the whole confession, you know?”

She laughed, expecting you to groan or throw a pillow at her like usual.

But then she saw your face.

Her laughter faded. “Wait… what happened?”

You didn’t answer. You just walked past her and sank into the couch, staring at nothing, your mind still replaying every moment from earlier—Jungkook’s teasing, his smirk, his distance.

You heard Joy shuffle closer, her voice softer now. “I… I’m sorry. Did I send the gift too early? Did Jungkook not like it?”

You let out a hollow laugh. “Oh, no, he loved it.” You turned to her, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “Thank you so much for your help, Joy.”

Her expression faltered. “Wait… what do you mean?”

You shook your head, exhaling sharply. “Jungkook probably thinks I’m pathetic now.”

Joy winced. She sat beside you on the couch, guilt written all over her face. “I— I really thought—” she hesitated, chewing on her lip. “I was so sure, though. That boy always had heart eyes for you.”

You let out a bitter chuckle. “Well, now you know he didn’t.”

Silence settled between you both.

And for the first time, Joy didn’t have anything to say.

The next time you see Jungkook, he’s with Hana again.

They’re standing by one of the campus notice boards, deep in conversation. You don’t mean to eavesdrop—you’re not even sure why you stop—but the moment you hear them talking, something in your gut tells you to listen.

Hana tilts her head, her voice low but clear. “Are you sure she won't find out?”

Jungkook sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t know… Maybe it's better this way”

Your breath catches in your throat.

Your first instinct is denial—maybe they’re not talking about you. Maybe it’s about someone else entirely. But deep down, you know.

As far as you’re aware, there isn’t another she in Jungkook’s life. Not before. Not when you were still close.

You’ve already been replaced.

Your chest aches as you piece it together. He doesn't want you to find out—because he's probably in a relationship with Hana now. Because he doesn’t want to hurt you with a direct rejection, he thinks hiding his relationship with her is the kinder option.

It isn’t.

You swallow the lump in your throat and force yourself to step back, turning away from the scene before you can hear any more.

You decide then—no matter how much it hurts, no matter how pathetic it makes you feel—you can’t bear being apart from Jungkook.

Even if he doesn’t love you back.

Even if he only sees you as a friend.

Losing him completely? That’s not something you’re ready for. Maybe you never will be.

So, you do the only thing you can think of.

You wait for him after class.

Your heart pounds against your ribs as you watch the door, your hands clammy with nerves. When Jungkook finally steps out, your breath catches. He looks the same—same hoodie, same soft brown eyes—but everything feels different now.

Taking a deep breath, you step forward.

"I get it, okay?" you say, voice firm despite the way your throat tightens. "You don’t like me. And that’s fine. I hope she makes you happy."

Jungkook halts mid-step.

His jaw clenches. His fists curl at his sides.

"You don’t understand," he mutters.

"Then make me understand, Jungkook," you plead. You take a shaky breath, forcing yourself to keep going, even as your last shred of dignity slips through your fingers. "Can we still be friends, at least?"

Silence.

Jungkook doesn’t reply.

And somehow, that hurts more than rejection ever could.

There's a party happening, hosted by one of the biggest party animals on campus. Everyone is invited, and Joy insists that you go.

After much convincing, you finally give in. You've mended things with her—finally forgiven her. Maybe it wasn’t entirely her fault. Maybe you just needed someone to blame.

You decide to go, hoping for a distraction. Maybe the music, the drinks, and the endless chatter will help you forget, even if just for a night.

But you already know Jungkook will be there.

Probably Hana too.

And that's fine.

You'll just stay out of their way.

The party is in full swing when you arrive—loud music, flashing lights, bodies moving wildly on the dance floor, and the unmistakable smell of booze in the air. Bottles are being passed around, and the energy is electric.

A few friends from your classes spot you and pull you in, offering drinks. You take them all without hesitation, reaching for the strongest ones, letting the alcohol burn away the ache in your chest.

Jungkook is nowhere in sight.

Good. Maybe he didn’t come. Maybe you can actually enjoy yourself tonight.

With the alcohol settling in, your limbs feel lighter, your mind a little hazy. You dance to the outdated playlist blaring through the speakers, laugh with strangers, and let yourself let go—just for a while.

But after some time, it all feels like too much. The heat, the noise, the overwhelming buzz in your veins. You slip away from the crowd and make your way to the rooftop, breathing in the crisp night air, letting it cool your flushed skin.

And then you sense it—someone else's presence.

You turn, your head spinning slightly, and there he is.

Jungkook.

You blink, wondering if you're imagining him, but his gaze is fixed on you, a slight furrow between his brows. There's something like concern in his expression as he watches you, taking in your drunken state.

Your heart stumbles in your chest.

The alcohol makes everything feel lighter—your body, your thoughts, your inhibitions. So when you see Jungkook standing there, looking at you with that unreadable expression, the words just spill out before you can stop them.

“I liked you, you know,” you mumble, swaying slightly. “But now I realize… I was just wasting my time.”

Jungkook doesn’t react. No apology, no denial, not even a flicker of emotion across his face.

He just exhales softly, shoving his hands into his pockets. “You’ll be fine,” he says simply, then turns on his heel and walks away.

Just like that.

The cool night air suddenly feels suffocating, the weight in your chest heavier than ever. You watch his retreating figure, your heart shattering all over again.

The next morning, you wake up with the nastiest headache ever. Your head throbs, your mouth is dry, and your body feels like it’s been wrung out. You groan, forcing yourself to sit up as the hazy memories from last night slowly piece themselves together.

Jungkook. The rooftop. The way he just… walked away like he didn’t care.

You shake the thought from your mind, dragging yourself out of bed. There’s no point dwelling on it. Your exams are approaching, and you need to focus.

Deciding to get some studying done, you head to the library. The quiet atmosphere should help clear your head—or at least distract you from the mess that is your life.

But the moment you step inside, your breath catches.

Jungkook is sitting at the table you both used to frequent, completely absorbed in scribbling something into a notebook. For a second, you consider turning around, but then something catches your eye.

He rips out a small piece of paper, folds it neatly, and—without hesitation—slips it into a glass jar sitting beside him.

Your heart clenches.

Is it for Hana?

You don’t stick around to find out. Before Jungkook can notice you, you turn on your heel and walk away.

February 10th. Your birthday.

You wake up with a small flicker of hope. Maybe today would be different. Maybe Jungkook had been ignoring you all this time because he was planning something—some kind of surprise. That had to be it, right?

Surely.

So you wait.

By 3 PM, your phone is filled with messages—friends, family, even distant relatives reaching out to wish you. Everyone but Jungkook.

Not even a single text.

The hope that had carried you through the day starts to crumble, replaced by a hollow ache in your chest. You don’t go to class. What’s the point? This might just be the worst birthday ever.

That’s when Joy bursts into your room with a grin.

"You got a package!" she announces, holding out a neatly wrapped box.

Your heart leaps.

Jungkook?

You rush over, fingers fumbling as you tear open the wrapping—only for your stomach to drop.

It’s from your parents.

Disappointment washes over you, but you push it aside. They went through the trouble of sending you something, and you should be grateful. You take a deep breath, forcing a smile as you pick up your phone and call them.

"Thank you," you say, voice steady. Because at least someone remembered.

There was still time.

It was only evening—plenty of hours left before midnight. Jungkook would surely text before then. He had to.

Joy, noticing your gloomy mood, tries to lift your spirits. "Come on, let’s go out drinking. Have some fun, at least for your birthday."

But you shake your head. "I’m not in the mood."

She sighs, clearly frustrated but doesn’t push you. Instead, she flops onto your bed, staring at the ceiling. "I hate this," she mutters. "I hate seeing you like this. And I hate him for treating you this way."

Her voice is laced with anger, but there’s something else there too—guilt.

Because deep down, Joy still blames herself.

If she hadn’t sent that gift early, if she hadn’t tried to play cupid, maybe things wouldn’t have turned out this way. Maybe you wouldn’t be spending your birthday like this—waiting for a boy who might never come around.

Jungkook didn’t text that day.

He forgot your birthday.

You waited all day, checking your phone every few minutes, hoping for a message that never came. Midnight passed, and still—nothing.

The realization settles deep in your chest, heavier than you expected. You feel pathetic.

Pathetic for hoping. Pathetic for waiting. Pathetic for still caring.

It’s the day before Valentine’s Day.

You can’t afford to miss any more classes. You haven’t stepped foot on campus since your birthday, but today, you decide to go.

You have no motivation to see or talk to anyone. You tell yourself that you’ll just quietly attend your classes and head straight back home. No distractions. No unnecessary interactions.

But as soon as you reach campus, you notice a crowd gathering. There’s some kind of matchmaking event happening for Valentine’s Day tomorrow.

Great. Just great.

Everything about it feels like the universe is mocking you, rubbing salt on an already raw wound. Heart-shaped decorations, pink confetti floating in the air, and couples laughing—completely oblivious to how suffocating it feels for you.

You try to move past the crowd, but suddenly, someone pushes forward, and you get caught in the chaos. You stumble, losing your balance—bracing for impact—

But you don’t hit the ground.

Because Jungkook catches you.

His hands grip your arms, steadying you out of instinct. His touch is firm and warm, familiar in a way that makes your chest ache.

For the first time in days, you look up at him. And for the first time in days, he looks right back at you.

He doesn’t let go of you immediately.

His grip stays firm, his fingers pressing into your arms like he’s grounding himself, like he’s hesitating. His throat bobs as he swallows hard, his lips parting slightly—like he’s about to say something.

The music playing in the background fades into a distant hum. Everything around you slows. The laughter, the chatter, the festival lights—it all blurs.

All that’s left is him.

Still holding you.

Your voice barely comes out, a whisper against the space between you.

“Do you even care, Jungkook?”

His hands tighten for a fraction of a second. His jaw clenches. And for a brief, fleeting moment, you think you see something—something raw and unspoken flash through his eyes.

But then, like a switch flipping, he lets go.

So fast that you nearly stumble again.

"No, Y/N. I don’t."

His words cut through the air, sharp and merciless.

Then he turns. Walks away.

And you’re left standing there, alone in the middle of a festival meant for love.

This is it.

This is your answer.

Jungkook has made his choice.

And now, it’s time for you to make yours.

You have to move on.

That night, you decide—Jungkook was never meant to be yours.

It’s a painful truth, one you’ve been avoiding, but tonight, you accept it.

Needing a distraction, you start clearing out your closet, pulling out old clothes, forgotten trinkets, anything to keep your hands busy. That’s when you see it.

The pink heart-shaped box.

Your breath hitches.

You had snatched it from his hands that day, barely able to meet his gaze before bolting out of his apartment and driving straight back to your dorm. You had shoved it deep into your closet, hoping that if you buried it away, you could bury your feelings too.

For a moment, you consider throwing it away. What’s the point of holding onto it now? Jungkook knows. He read the notes, saw every piece of your heart laid bare. And in the end, it changed nothing.

Your fingers tremble as you lift the lid.

One by one, you pull out the little folded papers, unfolding memories you once held so close.

"I don’t know when it happened, but one day, he became my favourite person."

"His laugh is my favorite sound."

"I wish he knew how much he means to me."

Tears blur your vision.

You never wanted him to know.

Because you never wanted to lose him.

And now, you have.

The weight of it crashes over you all at once, and before you can stop it, the tears spill over, hot and relentless.

You clutch the notes to your chest as silent sobs wrack your body.

You’ve been holding the pain in for too long.

So tonight, you let the dams break.

And you cry yourself to sleep.

It’s Valentine’s Day.

You feel miserable.

Forget having a Valentine this year—you don’t even have a best friend anymore.

So you stay in bed all day, buried under the covers, refusing to acknowledge the world outside.

Your mind drifts, unbidden, to last year’s Valentine’s Day.

You and Jungkook had gone out for dinner—not as lovers, not as anything more than friends, just two people who didn’t have dates. You remember how he laughed at the terrible restaurant music, how he stole fries from your plate like they were his.

You miss it.

No—wait. You shouldn’t be thinking about him.

Shaking off the thought, you grab your Nintendo Switch and start playing, trying to distract yourself.

Then the doorbell rings.

You ignore it. Joy is probably home—she’ll get it.

But it rings again.

What is Joy doing?

Then it hits you—she probably stayed over at her boyfriend’s place last night.

With a groan, you push off the covers and make your way to the door. You swing it open, ready to shoo away whoever it is—

But there’s no one there.

Your gaze drops to the ground.

And then you see it.

A singular jar, placed carefully on the doormat.

You stare at the jar, a strange sense of familiarity creeping in, but you can’t quite place it.

Where have you seen something like this before?

Your mind scrambles for an answer, flipping through memories like pages in a book, but nothing surfaces.

With hesitant fingers, you reach down and pick it up, feeling the cool glass against your palm. It’s heavier than you expected.

That’s when you notice the writing on the lid, scrawled in red marker.

"To Y/N."

Your heart stutters.

You blink, trying to steady your breath, but the moment feels unreal—like you’ve stepped into a dream.

It’s only then that you notice the jar is filled with tiny rolled-up notes, crammed inside like secrets waiting to be unraveled.

Your mind starts spiraling.

What is this? Who left it? Why does it have your name?

Your hands tremble as you twist the lid open, the slight pop of the seal echoing in the silence.

You reach inside, fingers brushing against the countless little slips of paper.

With bated breath, you pull one out.

You carefully unroll it, eyes scanning the words scribbled in rushed, familiar handwriting.

"I lied."

That’s all it says.

Two words.

Your breath catches in your throat as your eyes trace the messy yet unmistakable handwriting.

Jungkook.

Your fingers tighten around the note as your pulse quickens.

It’s his.

The realization slams into you with a force that leaves you momentarily stunned.

Your breath turns shallow as the memory crashes into you—

Yesterday.

The crowd. The music. The overwhelming blur of people around you.

You had stumbled, nearly falling, only for Jungkook to catch you. For a fleeting moment, he held you close. His grip was firm, his expression unreadable.

You had searched his face, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Do you even care, Jungkook?"

You had wanted him to say yes. Even a little. Anything to make the ache in your chest feel less unbearable.

But instead—

"No, Y/N. I don’t."

His words had cut deeper than you ever thought possible.

And then he had let go. So fast, like touching you had burned him. Like you meant nothing at all.

You remember the way your heart had cracked, the way he had disappeared into the sea of people, leaving you stranded in the middle of a festival meant for love.

But now—

Now you stand here, gripping a jar full of his words.

"I lied."

Your hands fumble as you reach into the jar again, pulling out another note.

Unrolling it with shaky fingers, you read:

"I thought if I pushed you away, it’d be easier for you to move on. But the truth is, I don’t want you to."

A sharp pang strikes your chest.

Your mind reels, and suddenly, you're back at the rooftop party—drunk, vulnerable, spilling your heart out in slurred words.

“I liked you, you know? But now I realize I was just wasting my time.”

Jungkook had stood there, silent, unreadable, his hands stuffed in his pockets.

No apology. No denial. Nothing.

And then, just as effortlessly, he had turned away.

"You'll be fine," he'd said before walking off, leaving you alone in the cold night.

The memory burns like an open wound, and yet, here you are, standing in your doorway, holding the truth he should have told you that night in the palm of your hands.

Your fingers tremble as you pull out the next note.

"I missed your birthday on purpose because I wanted to give you something that lasts longer than a text."

Your breath hitches.

He didn’t forget?

He chose not to text?

A bitter chuckle escapes your lips, but it fades just as quickly as the weight of his words settles in.

You reach into the jar again, pulling out another note, heart pounding against your ribs.

What you didn’t know was—

Jungkook had spent hours writing your birthday note.

He had sat at his desk that night, a dozen crumpled papers around him, rewriting the same message over and over, never satisfied. His hands had been shaky when he finally folded the note and slipped it into the jar.

Because words were permanent.

Because he was afraid.

Because deep down, he knew—if he told you how much you really meant to him, he wouldn’t be able to push you away anymore.

And that terrified him.

Your grip on the jar tightens as you pull out the next note.

"I was scared you’d see me in the library that day. And you did. I almost stopped writing. But I wanted to finish this for you."

Your breath catches in your throat as a memory rushes back—

The library.

That afternoon, when you had finally dragged yourself back to campus to study for your exams, you had seen him sitting at your usual table, scribbling something into his notebook.

At the time, you thought nothing of it—until you watched him tear out a tiny slip of paper and slip it into a jar.

A jar.

The very same one you now hold in your trembling hands.

Back then, you had turned away, assuming it was for Hana.

But it wasn’t.

It was for you.

Every note in this jar was for you.

Your vision blurs as you stare down at the tiny rolled-up messages still waiting to be read.

He had been writing to you all along.

By the time you reach the last few notes, your hands are trembling. Maybe you can’t even read them through the tears clouding your vision. The weight of all those misunderstandings—every ignored confession, every painful silence, every moment you thought he didn’t care—crashes down on you all at once.

Your breath is uneven as you unroll another slip of paper.

"You thought I didn’t care. But I did. I always did."

A sob escapes your lips, the ache in your chest unbearable.

You clutch the jar against you like it’s the most precious thing you’ve ever held—because it is. Because it’s him.

Every unspoken word. Every hidden feeling. Every truth he was too afraid to say aloud.

And now, you finally know.

Your breath catches as you reach the bottom of the jar, realizing the significance—there are exactly 100 notes, just like the box you once gave him.

With shaky hands, you pull out the 99th note.

“I was always bad at saying things out loud. So I wrote them instead. I just hope it’s not too late for you to read them.”

Your chest tightens.

You take a deep breath and reach for the last note, your fingers trembling. Slowly, you unroll it, heart pounding in your ears.

“Y/N, will you be my Valentine?”

The paper almost slips from your fingers as your vision blurs with fresh tears. A shaky laugh escapes your lips, somewhere between disbelief and overwhelming emotion.

After everything, after all the silence, the pain, the misunderstandings—he’s finally saying it.

And suddenly, all that matters is what you’ll do next.

The moment the words register, you don’t think.

The jar nearly slips from your grasp as you scramble to your feet, your heartbeat hammering louder than the thoughts racing through your mind. Jungkook. He couldn’t have gone far—he must have just dropped it off.

You fling the door open, barefoot, barely even stopping to grab your keys. The cold air bites at your skin, but you don’t care. You sprint down the stairs, nearly stumbling in your rush to get outside.

Your eyes dart wildly around the street, your breath coming out in frantic puffs. Where is he?

Then, you see him.

A few feet away, Jungkook is walking slowly, hands in his pockets, head low like he’s already bracing for disappointment. Like he’s already convinced you won’t come after him.

But you do.

“Jungkook!”

He freezes.

You don’t stop running until you’re right in front of him, breathless, clutching the jar close to your chest like it’s the only thing anchoring you to the moment.

His eyes widen when he sees you—messy hair, no shoes, trembling hands still gripping his gift like it’s the most important thing in the world.

You swallow hard, voice shaking. “Did you mean it?”

Jungkook looks at you for a long moment, the night stretching between you like a fragile thread.

Then, barely above a whisper—“Yeah.”

Your chest heaves, breath uneven, voice shaking as you clutch the jar tighter.

"You absolute—jerk." Your voice wavers, but the anger, the hurt, the sheer weight of everything he’s put you through spills out in every word. "You sat there, letting me think I meant nothing to you. And the whole time, you were—" You shake the jar, almost laughing in disbelief. "—writing these?"

Jungkook doesn’t answer. He just stands there, hands stuffed in his pockets, jaw tight, like he’s bracing himself for whatever you’re about to say next.

"You could’ve just told me, Jungkook. You could’ve just—" You pause, gripping the jar like it’s the only thing holding you together. "Why? Why lie to me?"

He exhales sharply, his voice rough, like he’s been holding it in for too long.

"Because I was a coward."

You blink. You weren’t expecting him to admit it so easily.

Jungkook runs a hand through his hair, looking away. "I thought pushing you away was the right thing to do. If I let you think I didn’t care, maybe you’d move on. Maybe you’d find someone who wouldn’t hurt you like I did."

Your throat tightens. Your fingers dig into the glass of the jar. "You were the one hurting me, Jungkook."

His eyes finally meet yours, and the weight of them almost knocks the air from your lungs. He looks wrecked.

"I know." His voice is barely above a whisper.

"Then why?" Your voice trembles, frustration bubbling over. "Why did you let me think I was chasing something that wasn’t even there?"

His jaw clenches, and for a second, he doesn’t answer. But then, his voice comes, low and raw.

"Because I was afraid you’d realize you deserved better."

Silence settles between you. A silence so thick it presses against your chest, making it hard to breathe.

You stare at him, your vision blurring. You should walk away. You should scream, cry—anything. But instead, you do the only thing you can think of.

You reach into the jar, grab a note at random, and shove it into his hand. "Read it."

Jungkook hesitates. Then, slowly, he unfolds the paper. His fingers tremble as he reads the words he once wrote.

"If I had been braver, I would’ve told you every single day how much you meant to me."

He sucks in a sharp breath, gripping the paper like it’s the only thing keeping him grounded. His eyes flick back up to yours, burning with something you can’t quite name.

"Say it now," you whisper.

Jungkook's breath catches. His grip on the note tightens like it’s the only thing keeping him together.

You wait. Trembling, heart pounding, eyes locked onto his. Daring him to finally, finally say it.

He exhales shakily. His voice is low, rough—like it hurts to speak, but he does anyway.

"Y/N…"

You don’t look away. Don’t let him run from this.

His throat bobs. His hand curls into a fist at his side, then slowly unclenches.

"I love you."

A sharp inhale cuts through you. Even though you were waiting for it, the words hit like a tidal wave.

Jungkook shakes his head, almost laughing, but there’s no humor in it—just raw, aching regret.

"I loved you then. I love you now. And I don’t think there’s a single version of me that won’t love you."

Your vision blurs, the weight of everything pressing down on you all at once.

"Then why—" your voice cracks, "—why did you let me think you didn’t?"

Jungkook exhales sharply, raking a hand through his hair. His face twists with something close to pain.

"Because I was scared." His voice is barely above a whisper. "Scared that if I let myself have you, I’d ruin you. Scared that you’d wake up one day and realize I wasn’t worth it."

Your hands clench at your sides. "You don’t get to decide that for me."

He nods. Swallows hard. Takes a step closer.

"I know." His voice is softer now. "And if I could go back, I’d do it all differently. But I can’t. All I can do is stand here and tell you—"

Your lips crash into his, years of longing and heartbreak unraveling in a single, desperate moment. Your fingers fist into his jacket, pulling him closer, closing the distance like you’ve been waiting forever. Because you have.

Jungkook catches you. His arms wind tight around your waist, grounding you, anchoring you like he’s afraid you’ll slip away again. His grip is firm, unyielding, as if holding you is the only thing that makes sense anymore.

The kiss isn’t soft—it’s frantic, raw, filled with all the words you never got to say. It’s a confession, an apology, a plea. His lips move against yours with urgency, pouring everything into it, like he’s trying to make up for every second he spent pushing you away.

Jungkook tilts his head, deepening the kiss, and a shiver runs through you as his fingers tangle into your hair, tugging just enough to make your breath hitch. His other hand spreads against your back, pressing you impossibly closer, like even this isn’t enough, like he’d fuse you together if he could.

You melt. Every wall you built, every ounce of anger, every misunderstanding—crumbling, dissolving into the heat of him. The way he kisses you feels like an answer to a question you didn’t know you were asking. Like a promise.

When you finally pull apart, neither of you lets go.

Jungkook rests his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours, still uneven, still shaken. His hands remain on your waist like he’s afraid that the second he lets go, this will all disappear.

Your fingers stay curled in his shirt, gripping the fabric like it’s the only thing keeping you grounded.

His voice is raw when he finally speaks, barely more than a whisper. “I don’t deserve you.”

You exhale, shaking your head, the weight of everything still pressing against your chest. Your voice is quiet, but steady. “Then spend every day proving that you do.”

Jungkook lets out a soft laugh—one that sounds broken and real, like he can’t believe he’s still allowed to have this moment with you.

“Deal,” he murmurs.

And then he kisses you again.

The door barely clicks shut before Jungkook is on you again, his hands framing your face as his lips crash into yours. There’s no hesitation now, no careful restraint—only heat, only the raw, aching need that’s been simmering between you for far too long.

His body presses against yours, pushing you back into the door, and you gasp against his lips. He swallows the sound, deepening the kiss, his tongue sweeping over yours with slow, deliberate intent. He tastes like something addictive—like want, like longing, like the kind of hunger that makes your stomach tighten and your knees go weak.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, needing him closer. His hands roam down, slipping under the hem of your shirt, fingertips skimming along your bare skin. His touch is scorching, leaving a trail of fire wherever he moves. He pauses, his breath ragged, lips barely brushing yours.

"Tell me to stop," he murmurs, voice rough, uneven.

You shake your head, tilting your chin up until your lips ghost over his again. "I don’t want you to stop."

The words break something inside him.

His mouth crashes onto yours again, hungrier this time, more desperate. His hands slide up your back, pulling you flush against him, and you can feel the hard lines of his body, the way his chest rises and falls unsteadily against yours. One hand grips your waist, fingers digging in just enough to make you shudder, while the other slides lower, gripping your thigh and hitching it up against his hip.

A quiet moan escapes you at the feeling, and he groans in response, pressing harder into you. His lips leave yours, trailing a path down your jaw, to the sensitive spot beneath your ear, where he lingers. His teeth scrape lightly against your skin before he soothes it with his tongue, sucking gently, enough to make you arch into him, enough to make your breath hitch.

"Jungkook—" His name leaves your lips in a breathless whisper, and he exhales sharply against your skin, like the sound is enough to undo him.

His grip tightens as he lifts you effortlessly, hands settling under your thighs. Instinct takes over, and your legs wrap around his waist as he carries you across the room. He lays you down on the bed with care, but there’s nothing careful about the way he follows you down, covering your body with his own.

He hovers above you, his breath warm against your lips, his dark eyes searching yours. His thumb brushes over your cheek, then lower, tracing the curve of your bottom lip, his touch unbearably light.

"You’re sure?" he whispers, voice thick with something heady.

Your only answer is a whispered "Yes," breathless, certain.

Something shifts in him at your words. His lips find yours again, but this time, he takes his time—exploring, savoring, as if he wants to memorize every inch of you. His kisses trail downward, along the curve of your neck, across your collarbone, his mouth mapping out a path of heat and sensation. His hands move with just as much purpose, slipping under fabric, pushing it aside, fingers tracing bare skin with an intimacy that makes your pulse stutter.

Every brush of his lips, every slow, deliberate touch sends waves of electricity through you, igniting something deep and primal. Clothes are discarded in slow, teasing movements, the heat between you building with every layer that falls away.

His lips ghost over your shoulder, down your arm, over the curve of your breasts, his breath hot and uneven. He watches you, eyes dark with something intense, something almost reverent, as his fingers trace slow, lazy patterns along your bare skin.

"You’re so beautiful," he murmurs, voice filled with something deeper than desire.

You reach for him, pulling him back up, needing his mouth on yours again, needing more. He obliges, kissing you fiercely, like he never wants to stop, like this moment has been waiting to happen for far too long.

His hands explore moving towards your heat, his touch reverent yet possessive, like he’s memorizing every inch of you, like he’s making up for all the lost time. You arch into him, breath hitching, hands gripping onto his shoulders as heat coils low in your stomach.

"Jungkook," you whisper, his name falling from your lips like a plea.

His breath catches, and he exhales shakily. "I’ve got you," he murmurs against your skin, voice barely above a whisper. "I’m right here."

And then there’s no more talking—only movement, only passion, only the feeling of finally, finally being exactly where you both belong.

The air is thick with warmth, bodies tangled beneath the sheets, hearts pounding in tandem as the last echoes of your shared breaths settle between you. The world outside might still be turning, but in this moment, it doesn’t exist. It’s just you and him, skin against skin, the weight of what just happened pressing down like the softest, heaviest thing in the world.

Your body is spent, muscles trembling faintly from the aftershocks, but you don’t move. You can’t.

Jungkook is still holding you. One arm draped lazily around your waist, the other tracing absentminded patterns against your back. His touch is slow, soothing, like he’s still trying to convince himself you’re real. Like if he lets go, you might slip away.

You stay like that for a while, chests rising and falling in sync, your head resting just above his heart. The rhythm of it is steady now, no longer racing like it had been just moments ago. Still, there’s a softness to it, an unspoken question lingering in the quiet space between you.

It’s you who finally breaks it.

“So…” You shift slightly, fingers trailing absentmindedly along his chest. “Hana knew about the jar?”

His hand stills for the briefest moment before he exhales a small, breathy laugh. His voice is thick with exhaustion, but there’s amusement in it too.

“She didn’t just know about it.” His fingers resume their slow, idle circles against your bare skin. “It was her idea.”

You blink. “…What?”

Jungkook hums in confirmation, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “Yeah. She was the one who told me to do it—to fill a jar with everything I wanted to say but couldn’t.” He pauses, then adds, “She also threatened to expose me if I didn’t.”

You scoff, though you can’t help the warmth blooming in your chest. “So let me get this straight… You couldn’t tell me how you felt, but you told Hana?”

Jungkook turns his head slightly to look at you, eyes still heavy with sleep, but the amusement in them is undeniable. “I didn’t tell her. She just… figured it out.”

Of course, she did.

You huff, feigning annoyance, but your fingers betray you, tracing soft, aimless patterns along his collarbone. “Still. She knew before I did.”

Jungkook grins, rolling onto his side to face you fully. One hand slips beneath the sheets, finding your waist, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between you. His voice is low when he asks, “Are you jealous?”

You glare at him. “Shut up.”

His laughter vibrates against your skin, rich and warm, before he dips down to kiss you—slow and lingering, like he’s trying to pour everything he can’t say into it. When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the quiet.

Then, softer now, more serious, he murmurs, “Are you gonna answer me?”

Your brow furrows slightly. “Answer what?”

Jungkook leans over, reaching toward the nightstand where the jar still sits, its notes untouched—except for the last one.

“The question,” he says, retrieving the single unfolded slip of paper. He holds it between you, and even though you already know what it says, your heart still stutters when your eyes skim over the words again.

Y/N, will you be my Valentine?

Earlier, you had left it unanswered, too overwhelmed by everything that had come before it. But now, after everything—after confessions, after heartbreak, after finally finding each other again—there’s no hesitation.

You reach out, plucking the note from his fingers. Slowly, carefully, you fold it again, tucking it beneath your pillow like something precious, something worth keeping. Then, meeting his gaze, you whisper, “You never needed to ask.”

Jungkook exhales, slow and shaky, like something inside him has finally settled. His hand cups your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin like he’s memorizing the moment.

“Good,” he murmurs, voice thick with emotion. “Because I wasn’t planning on taking no for an answer.”

Your breath catches. Not because of his confidence—but because, deep down, you realize you’d never wanted to say no in the first place. Maybe you had tried to fight it. Maybe you had convinced yourself that the past had built too many walls between you. But now, lying here in the warmth of his arms, the truth settles into your bones like something that had been waiting for you to accept it all along.

It had always been him.

Your fingers tighten in the sheets as you search his gaze, looking for hesitation, for doubt—for something to make this feel less like a dream. But there’s nothing. Just him. Just you. Just this moment you both fought so hard to reach.

Jungkook watches you, waiting, always waiting, his hand still resting against your cheek as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

So you close the distance.

You kiss him slowly this time, letting it sink in. The warmth of his lips, the taste of him still lingering, the way he exhales like he’s been holding his breath for years. When you pull away, his forehead rests against yours, both of you breathing the same air, hearts beating in time.

And then, with a quiet, knowing smile, you whisper, “Then don’t.”

Jungkook’s lips part slightly, his expression shifting—softening, melting—as if those two words had knocked down every last barrier between you. And maybe they had. Because before you can say anything else, he’s pulling you against him again, tucking you close, his hand slipping into yours beneath the sheets.

Neither of you speak for a long time after that. You don’t need to.

Outside, the world keeps turning, time moving forward just as it always does. But here, in the hush of your dorm room, wrapped up in him, it feels like the universe has paused just for you.

Not to make up for lost time.

But to remind you that some things—some people—were never really lost at all.

And maybe, just maybe, they never would be.

EPILOGUE : Years Later – Valentine’s Day

The door clicks shut behind you as you step into the apartment, kicking off your shoes with a tired sigh. The evening air still clings to your skin, carrying traces of laughter and the lingering warmth of Jungkook’s presence.

It had been another perfect night—one filled with inside jokes, stolen bites of each other’s food, and his usual exasperated attempts to get you to pick a restaurant instead of saying, “Anything’s fine.”

Jungkook is nowhere in sight, giving you the solitude you need. You don’t hesitate. Your steps are purposeful as you cross the room, crouching down beside the bed. With practiced ease, you reach under the frame, fingers brushing against the familiar surface of a small pink, heart-shaped box.

But this time, there’s something else.

Your fingers find the jar—the one that started it all.

You pull them both out carefully, as if they were a fragile secret, and place them on your lap.

Soft footsteps approach. Then, a familiar weight sinks onto the mattress beside you.

Jungkook’s voice is quieter now, fond. “Didn’t think I’d see those again.”

You smile, running a thumb over the worn edges of the box before glancing at him. “I don’t know what made me reach for them.”

He hums, gaze flickering between the objects in your hands. “Habit, maybe. Or fate.” Then, smirking, “You always did have a thing for digging up answers.”

Rolling your eyes, you pop the lid off the jar, fingers fishing out an old note. The paper is creased, the ink slightly faded, but you already know what it says.

"Y/N, will you be my Valentine?"

Jungkook watches you, expectant. “You never actually answered me, you know.”

You exhale a laugh, shaking your head. “Jungkook, we’re literally married.”

“And?” He leans in, teasing. “I’m just saying, a verbal confirmation wouldn’t hurt.”

You scoff but humor him anyway, fingers curling into his sweater as you whisper against his lips—

"Yes, Jungkook. I’ll be your Valentine."

His arms wrap around you, pulling you in. The jar sits forgotten on the floor, the pink box nestled beside it.

Once upon a time, you had pulled it out, searching for clarity. Looking for a sign.

You didn’t realize then—you never needed the answers inside.

Because you’d already found them.

Because you’d found him.

And maybe that was the answer all along.

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thank you so much for reading! let me know what u think about it <3

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