#because damn they end up being fun to write

[cristaq]

do you ever think about how Price and Soap have the same first name?. because i do.

about when they here someone call out “John” they look for the other.

about them calling each other “Johnny” when all alone.

about Price not being able to stand to hear his own name after Soaps death…

I read this just after waking up and damn you anon for making me feel stuff that early in the day! So I will give you all my name related thoughts and please do add if there’s anything missing.

I do think a lot about it, from a writer’s perspective, since I can’t write things like <“Let’s go!” John said.> because which John are we talking about?? 

Jokes aside, their names are foreshadowing Soap becoming Price. They are two sides of the same coin. Besides that, I imagine them calling each other John in their most solemn and serious moments. Otherwise, they usually resort to Price and Soap most of the time, even when in private. Since they can’t display public affection, I think that they unconsciously ended up charging these names with incredible emotion. People hear Soap, but Price actually says “Come here, love.”. People hear Price, but Soap actually says “I missed you.” These names carry a secret endearment that lets them interact as lovers even in public. So it just naturally carried over to their private life as a reminder of who they are, under what circumstances they’ve met and what they are fighting for. They don’t have to invent nauseating pet names. They are Price and Soap, but also Price (with a soft gaze) and Soap (with a sly smile). 

Exceptions are made for “old man” and “muppet”, which started as innocent teasing, but ended up as so much more. They are used to poke light fun at each other, but also as a form of endearment.

But!! In their darkest hour, when sincerity is crucial, John slips out. “John, I’m not going anywhere!” “I swear we'll make it, John!” “Wait for me, John!” It’s their way of signing a contract with blood, the firmest handshake in the world. When they hear the name out in the world, it’s very funny to see both of them turn around like two prairie dogs, one of them with half a slice of bread in his mouth. How could their fates be even more intertwined??

The death part hits hard. When Price hears John he expects someone else to turn around with him. But there is no one now. He stops answering to John. And people soon stop calling him that. I like to imagine that when Price kills Makarov, besides the “This is for Soap!” he says “This is for John!” because it is for both of them. 

[seyaryminamoto]

On the other hand, Sokka’s family dynamic is adorable and it’s very nice to see Kya alive and very much in love with her husband, being excited about Christmas and embarrassing Katara. I feel for Azula when she couldn’t help but compare it to her own family. Ozai would really be the kind of parent that is cold and emotionally distant to his children and tries to compensate it with material things, huh?

Haha, I talked about it in the other ask but anyway, yep, I absolutely agree that keeping Kya alive, and letting her be a perfectly wholesome wife to her very wholesome husband, is a wonderful highlight of this AU. Writing that whole scene with Hakoda being ridiculously cute with the mistletoe, as well as their dancing... Katara's second-hand embarrassment was very relatable, but those two being the happiest married couple is just everything I could want for them. Any setting where I can get away with keeping Kya alive is a good setting xD

And yeah, that's 100% how I was trying to write Ozai here. He focused so much on business and ensuring to build a successful economic foundation for his family that he purposefully neglected his wife and kids. Which drives the wife to do some reeeeally stupid things, which then causes serious rifts in the marriage and the family life altogether. There's a lot of wrong on both sides in terms of how they act, it's very difficult to argue that Ursa's choice is justified even when Ozai isn't 100% blameless either... even she doesn't think she's justified xD hence why she acts as she does, constantly riddled by guilt and bleakness, virtually unable to talk to her daughter (who of course doesn't want to talk to her either) or her husband. The guilt really has been consuming her for many years: this sudden opportunity to rebuild this family is a wake-up call of a sort for her.

Meanwhile, Ozai is a lot more stable now and he's succeeded at his business ventures... which means it's about time he's more available and ready to be part of the family. But it also means he has spent about 15-ish years being pretty distant, increasingly distant even, to the point where narrowing that distance between himself and his family is just not easy. There's a lot of damage on all sides, even in what I do consider a pretty positive AU, but Ozai and Ursa would start making efforts to change things for the better... and that's basically the plot of the sequel x'D Oh, I really should get to it...

[theduchessofnaxos]

This paper is actually going quite well.

Too bad it's complete bullshit.

[ahalliance]

i don’t get how people can complain about the writing “doing Martha dirty” when that same writing gives her an ending that addresses her treatement over the course of the season, allows her to finally put her to foot down, to establish her self-worth as an individual and to air out her grievances, and gives her the most respectful and satisfying exit from the TARDIS we’d yet seen in the show . like it’s one thing to dislike the direction the writing team took with her arc and to criticise it (perfectly fine) and another to somehow miss it entirely lmao . the ‘martha feels out of place, second best, and like a rebound’ is an intentional piece of writing that gets resolved by the end of the season . like that wasn’t smth they threw in for shits and giggles, it had in-story repercussions

[starlostseungmin]

please forgive me to the person i’ve become when you read this feedback.

these are the visual representation of me while reading the whole story 🤧

I DARE YOU.

Felix x reader. (s)

Synopsis: The shy you meet the charming stranger, Felix, through a dare that leads you both into a whirlwind of a night filled with new, unexpected things. (17,6k words)

Author's note: It’s a late bday fic for Felix. I had soooooo much fun writing the smut in this one and I rarely said that so I hope you had fun too reading it x

Not this—being in a loud, dark club with Rex and her friends, a group of people you barely know, and the alcohol in your glass isn't any less foreign, a poor substitute for your usual chamomile tea.

A typical Friday night for you usually means snuggling on the sofa with your favorite blanket, a book in hand, and a cup of tea.

The music is thumping, the strobing lights flickering incessantly, and the sheer chaos of it all overwhelms your senses. It's overstimulating, like stepping into a world where you don't quite belong.

But here you are, trying to push past your comfort zone for one night, specifically for your best friend, Rex. You make the exception because it's her birthday.

You've known Rex since high school, and to this second, you're still not entirely sure how you two became best friends.

Rex is everything you aren’t—fierce, vibrant, and unapologetically confident—while you are introverted, shy, and awkward. Yet somehow, in that contrast, you found something that clicked. Maybe it's the way she effortlessly pulls you out of your shell or the way she always has your back without needing to say much.

For almost eight years now, this unlikely bond has stood the test of time, bridging the gap between your quiet, dull world and her wild, colorful one.

However, at times, the stark contrast between you and Rex pushes you to the edge. She thrives on excitement, constantly seeking new experiences, while you cling to routine. You like the comfort of predictability—having the same breakfast every day, enjoying the calm of your familiar surroundings. Rex, on the other hand, is always nudging you, sometimes even shoving you, to break free from that comfort zone. She wants you to explore, to live a little, and while you appreciate her intentions, it can feel overwhelming. She never seems to understand that trying new, exciting things isn’t natural for you the way it is for her.

Just like tonight. Rex has convinced everyone to play Never Have I Ever, and it quickly becomes apparent how out of place you are.

Every statement, every confession, is about wild, reckless things—everything you’ve never done. With each round, your glass remains untouched while everyone else takes shots, laughing as they reveal their mischievous pasts.

By the time the group is tipsy and lightheaded from confessing their wild and naughty escapades, you are still as sober as ever, quietly sitting there, feeling even more like a fish out of water.

Rex eventually notices your lack of participation. She puts down her glass and says, “Alright, this is getting boring. Let’s change the game!”

You notice her eyes flicking to you, and you feel your heart sink. “But I’m having fun,” you assure her, forcing an awkward laugh.

Your words are not entirely false. It isn’t like you aren’t having fun—it just isn’t your kind of fun.

Rex smirks, knowing you too well. She can see through your calm façade. “Sure you are. Alright, Never Have I Ever cheated on a test?"

Everyone else laughs, raising their glasses to take a shot, but your glass stays put.

“Guys, you shouldn’t cheat on...” your words trail off as you notice the looks they give you.

“See?” Rex says, turning back to you. “It’s not fun if you’re not participating.”

You scoff, but you can't really argue. It's true. The game isn’t exactly designed for someone like you.

“I’m still having fun,” you insist with a faint smile, but even you can hear how fake that sounds.

Rex lets out a sigh and scoots closer to you. “It’s my birthday, and I want my best friend to have fun on my birthday.”

One of her friends groans, putting her glass down with an exaggerated eye roll. “Whatever, I’m hitting the dance floor.” She slides out of the booth, and the rest follow, leaving you and Rex alone.

Maybe Rex’s birthday has become a bit boring because of you, but you told her before that you would’ve preferred a small gathering at your apartment, maybe just the two of you.

“I’m sorry I’m ruining your birthday,” you mumble, feeling guilty for being a party pooper and aware that it's unfair to her.

However, Rex’s attention has already drifted elsewhere—on someone, to be exact. She turns her head back at you with her eyes twinkling with mischief.

“He’s been checking you out,” she whispers against the loud music.

You snort and shake your head in disbelief, glancing in the direction she subtly nods toward, checking if she's telling the truth.

Across the room, a guy with bleached blond hair and tattooed hands sits casually, dressed in a leather jacket. His fair skin and delicate features are striking, but you can’t help but laugh to yourself. There is no way he is checking you out—not when Rex, your stunning, lively best friend, is sitting right next to you.

Before you can argue, Rex turns your head toward him. Your eyes lock with his instantly, and your heart skips a beat. You tell yourself it's just the loud, thumping music making your chest pound like that. He smiles faintly at you, and you quickly look away, feeling heat rise in your cheeks.

“Okay, new game!” Rex suddenly announces, clapping her hands.

You blink in shock. “Wait, what?”

“Don’t worry, it’s just between you and me,” Rex says with a mischievous grin, taking a second to sip her drink.

You raise an eyebrow, wary of what she has in mind. “Okay...?” you respond nervously.

“Truth or dare,” Rex finally reveals, her eyes gleaming with trouble. “But here’s the twist—there’s no truth.”

“Rex, I don’t—” you begin, but she cuts you off by covering your mouth with her hand.

“It’s my birthday,” she says, her voice low yet commanding. “You’re obliged to do whatever I ask.”

You sigh, nodding reluctantly. Rex removes her hand and holds yours instead, her fingers cool and reassuring despite her devious smile.

“My dear best friend,” she says, that mischievous grin lingering on her red-painted lips, “I dare you to kiss that guy.”

Your eyes follow her finger, and it's pointing at the bleached blond guy with the tattooed hands across the room.

“What? No way!” You blurt out, eyes widening in shock.

“Come on! It’s just a kiss. You can do it," Rex says casually, showing how different the two of you view this dare. She then squeezes your hand and adds, "Besides, he’s been staring at you all night.”

Your heart pounds, not from the music but from the sheer terror of Rex’s dare. Kiss a stranger? In a club? You aren’t Rex—confident and fearless. You’re the girl who barely participated in Never Have I Ever because the wildest thing you’ve ever done is stay up late to study for finals.

“But I… I don’t know him,” you stammer, your palms getting sweaty on your lap.

“That’s the point of the game!" Rex says lightly. "And it’s not like he hasn’t noticed you. He smiled, didn’t he?”

The idea terrifies you, but there is also a small part of you—buried deep under all the shyness and caution—that is curious. What if you step out of your comfort zone for once? What if you do something wild, something you’d never do on your own?

As if she hears your thoughts, Rex leans closer and softly says, “You’ve spent your whole life playing it safe. It’s just one kiss. What’s the worst that could happen?”

You glance back toward the guy. He’s still sitting there, calm and collected, his long bleached-blonde hair falling effortlessly around his face. He hasn’t looked away since your brief, flustered glance earlier. Instead, he seems… unfazed, but there’s something curious in his eyes, like he’s still watching, waiting.

“I can’t,” you mutter again, shaking your head, feeling that familiar wave of discomfort rise in your chest.

Rex leans in closer, holding your hand gently. “Look, I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable. I just want you to have fun for once, not think about everything so much. You trust me, right?”

Of course you trust her. Rex has been by your side for eight years, through thick and thin. As wild as she is, she always has your back, no matter what.

The logical part of your brain screams at you to refuse, to stay in your lane. But there’s another voice, quieter but growing louder with each passing second, telling you to just do it, to be bold, even if just for one night.

You inhale deeply, your hand still in hers, and with a shaky voice, you say, “Fine. But if I make a fool of myself, I'll kill you and leave your body in a ditch.”

Rex bursts out laughing, not finding your words threatening at all. “Deal! Now go get him, tiger!” she says, giving you a playful slap on the butt.

“I can’t believe I’m about to do this,” you mutter under your breath, standing up on legs already turning to jelly.

You look over your shoulder and find Rex grinning, clearly delighted. As encouragement, she gives you a nudge in the guy's direction.

As you walk toward him, each step feels surreal, heavier than the last. It doesn’t take long before the guy notices you, and to your surprise, his faint smile grows.

When you finally stop in front of him, you don’t know what to say. Your throat tightens, and for a moment, you regret even considering the dare. But despite everything, you hear your own voice ask, “Do you mind if I kiss you?”

There's no turning back now, and it’s not like he's the type to say no, not with the way he's looking at you—intrigued. And despite the panic in your chest, there’s something thrilling about the way he watches you.

He looks at you with a mix of surprise and amusement, then his smile turns soft. “How could I say no to that?” he says, his voice surprisingly low and deep.

Not giving yourself time to overthink, you close the gap between you and him, leaning in as he does the same until your lips and his meet in the middle.

The kiss isn’t wild or reckless like you imagined it would be. It’s gentle, slow, and—much to your surprise—perfectly in tune with the moment. It feels like the first time you’ve ever kissed anyone, full of nerves, fluttering excitement, and the kind of tenderness you hadn’t expected from a stranger.

When you pull back, your hand flies to your lips, barely believing you’ve just done that. Your heart is still racing, but this time, it isn’t just from fear. You feel the thrill and rush of stepping out of your comfort zone, and you think... maybe you can push yourself a little more, just a little bit.

Absentmindedly, you open your mouth and ask, “Do you want to get out of here?”

-

It's a typical Friday night for Felix—hanging at the club with his friends, having a few drinks, casually watching the scene. The same kind of night he's had countless times. His eyes wander across the room, drifting from one group of people to another, and then… he sees you.

You're completely out of place, dressed in something someone would wear to church on Sunday, your glasses slightly sliding down your nose, sitting with your hands clasped tightly in your lap. The glass you're holding? He's pretty sure it's just an accessory for your idle hand. Then he observes the people you're with—they're clearly here to let loose and have fun, his usual type—the kind of girls who are bold and uninhibited. But you? You're different, and that’s what intrigues him.

Felix isn’t being judgmental. He knows everyone needs to blow off some steam once in a while, but there's something about seeing you in this environment that captivates him. You don’t belong here, not really, and yet here you are. The juxtaposition of your quiet presence amidst the chaos of the club fascinates him. He finds himself watching you without meaning to, drawn to how out of place you are.

Then, your eyes meet. You look right at him from across the room, and he doesn't look away. He holds your gaze, wondering if you’ll hold it too, but you drop your eyes almost immediately.

The shyness in that simple act is oddly cute because most girls he meets in places like this are bold, forward. They don't shy away from eye contact, but you? There is something sweet in your hesitance.

The second time you glance over, Felix notices a change. You're a little braver, and this time, you don’t just look—you stand up. Your steps are hesitant but purposeful as you cross the room, and before he can think too much about it, you're right in front of him.

“Do you mind if I kissed you?” you ask, your voice soft, small yet determined.

Felix raises an eyebrow, surprised but amused. He can’t help but smile at the way you asked for permission. Most girls don’t ask—they just do. But your politeness, your shyness, the way you're so out of place in this club yet standing in front of him, asking so sweetly—it's irresistible.

He looks at you, his smile widening. “How could I say no to that?”

A kiss has always just been a kiss for Felix—a simple way to satisfy some biological need, with no deeper meaning behind it. But this? This kiss doesn’t feel like that.

The kiss takes him back to something he hasn’t felt in years—the thrill of a first kiss. The kind that's innocent, pure, and full of nervous excitement. He can’t remember the last time he had a kiss that made him feel like this—something chaste but electrifying all at once.

As you pull away, Felix almost groans in protest. He wants more, needs more of that flutter, that spark. His lips tingle, and he can tell yours do too, as your hand flies up to your mouth as if you can’t believe what just happened.

"Do you want to get out of here?" you ask, your voice shy, but with a daring edge that Felix hadn’t expected.

Your charm is something else—shy and demure one moment, then bold and forward the next, endlessly fascinating him. There's just something about you that makes this feel less like a random encounter and more like something worth exploring.

Consider his curiosity piqued, eager to see where this unlikely encounter will take him next. He meets your gaze, a playful smile tugging at his lips, then he says, "Lead the way!"

You turn, feeling the heat of his presence close behind you as you make your way through the packed club. The noise slowly recedes, replaced by a focused, almost intimate atmosphere between you.

As you reach the exit, Felix places a hand on the small of your back, guiding you through the crowd. Once outside, the cool night air hits you, a refreshing contrast to the club’s stuffy heat.

Felix glances at you, his smile still in place, and asks, “So, what’s the plan?”

-

To be honest, you have no idea why you asked him out. You acted spontaneously, which is unlike you, but you know what you want. You crave the thrill and the excitement, and ultimately, more of that explosive kiss. 

Without thinking, you reach for Felix’s arm, pulling him toward the dimly lit alley next to the club. The urgency between you both is palpable, the energy from that brief kiss still simmering just beneath the surface. 

As soon as you're out of sight from the street, Felix pins you against a stack of old crates filled with empty beer bottles. His hands find your waist and pull you close. Your lips collide again, this time more passionate, more intense. Your heart is beating out of your chest as your fingers tangle in his long hair. 

In the intensity of the moment, you lean back slightly, misjudging the proximity of the crate. Your head strikes the edge with a sharp thud, and the sudden pain makes you wince. 

You gasp and accidentally break the kiss for a second, but you decide to laugh it off—you don’t want to ruin the moment. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice tinted with concern. 

“I’m fine," you say, half-laughing. 

Felix smiles, though concern fills his eyes as he leans in close. “Are you sure?” 

“Yeah, I’m okay, I’m—” you begin to blabber, wanting to resume the heated moment by leaning in for another kiss, but you immediately stop when you notice the shift in his expression. 

His hand reaches up to the side of your head, and that’s when you feel it too—the warm, sticky sensation spreading through your hair. Then, he shows you his fingers, coated with your blood. 

“I don’t think you're okay,” he mutters, his voice suddenly serious. “You’re bleeding.” 

You can feel the adrenaline and embarrassment mingling as the pain begins to set in. 

Felix gently touches your shoulder, trying to comfort you as he guides you away from the alley. “We need to get this checked out. We need to go to the hospital.” 

Oh, no! This was supposed to be your night of finally breaking out of your shell, not a night where you make a fool of yourself in front of a hot guy. 

“It’s not a big deal. I don’t need to go to the hospital,” you insist, trying to brush off the situation. 

He shakes his head firmly, but his hand remains gentle on the small of your back. “We’re getting this checked out. You can’t just ignore it.” 

Without taking any of your excuses, Felix hails a taxi until one stops and pulls to the side of the road. He helps you get in, and on the ride to the nearest hospital, he checks on you every once in a while, asking if you're okay. His tatted hands and rough exterior are such a contrast to his gentle, attentive demeanor. 

That only makes you hate how the night has taken a turn. The two of you could have done more than just kiss by now if it weren’t for you bumping your head on a stupid crate. 

“Come back if you feel dizzy, nauseous, or if there’s a ringing in your ears,” the doctor says as she takes off her latex gloves, leaving the nurse to finish the rest. 

Despite the night’s earlier excitement, you feel a tinge of embarrassment about the whole incident. You're thinking of faking a concussion just to stay the night in the emergency room, but you're aware that would only make him worry more about you. 

Guess there's no other option but to push your way through this humiliation. 

As you step out of the emergency room, you see him standing against the wall, looking impossibly cool in his rough leather jacket. With his striking features, he could’ve been doing a photo shoot for a magazine. 

“Hi,” you nervously greet him. 

The adrenaline has drained from your body, leaving you feeling deflated. It's like the girl who kissed a stranger in a dark alley has vanished, replaced by your usual shy, awkward self—plus, you now have a bandage on your forehead. 

The magic of the night has faded, and you wouldn't blame Felix if he decided to leave now that he’s met the real you. He glances up from his phone, a soft smile stretching across his lips. 

“Hey. You okay?” he asks, putting his phone back into the pocket of his leather jacket. 

“Three stitches, no concussion,” you say, trying to sound casual. 

“Oh, that’s a relief,” Felix sighs, visibly relaxing. 

“You know, you don’t have to wait for me. I can deal with this myself,” you say, feeling a little guilty. He’s already done enough by helping you get to the hospital. 

“I can’t do that,” Felix says, his voice steady. 

“Why not?” you ask, genuinely curious. 

“I can’t just leave when you’re hurt,” he answers simply, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. 

That's such an unexpected answer from an unexpected man. He barely knows you, yet here he is, waiting outside an emergency room just to make sure you're okay. That thought warms you—but then it hits you: you don’t even know his name. 

“Unless I’m actually concussed… do I know your name?” you ask with a shy laugh. “Or did we skip introductions?” 

Felix chuckles, holding out his hand to you. “Felix,” he says, his deep voice sending a pleasant shiver through you. 

You take his hand, offering your name in return. “Nice to meet you, Felix.” 

It's about to get awkward from here, you can feel it. The momentum of the night has stalled, and now you aren’t sure what to say or do. You like him, but it feels like the window to continue this spontaneous night has closed. Maybe it’s better to retreat. 

“I’d better head home,” you mutter in defeat, but deep down, you hope the end of the night won’t feel as anticlimactic as it seems. 

To your surprise, Felix straightens up from the wall and turns toward the exit. With a warm and genuine smile, he offers, “Let me take you home.”

-

As Felix stands outside the emergency room, leaning against the wall, he notices you stepping out, looking more like yourself again—shy, awkward, but also kind of endearing. He can see the hint of embarrassment in your eyes, like you're expecting him to vanish now that things aren't as wild as they were earlier. But you have no idea he isn’t that kind of guy, not when it comes to this. 

You walk over, your voice soft and uncertain as you greet him, “Hi.” 

“Hey. You’re okay?” he puts on a smile, relieved that you're okay. 

“Three stitches, no concussion,” you answer, trying to play it down. 

“That’s a relief,” he sighs. 

Honestly, if anything worse had happened to you, he would’ve felt responsible, and he can’t live with that. Sure, his appearance might have given off the wrong vibe, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t care. You need help, so he helps you. 

“You know, you don’t even have to wait for me. I can just deal with it myself," you awkwardly clasp your hands in front of you and keep avoiding his eyes as you speak. 

“I can’t do that,” he says; there’s no way he leaves you alone after everything. 

“Why not?” you ask, genuinely confused. 

Felix doesn’t really have an answer to that, so he slowly shrugs and says, “I can’t just leave when you’re hurt.” 

You give him this look, like you're trying to figure him out. He guesses you don't expect him to care, but he does, and that is that. 

A moment passes in silence, and you shift awkwardly in front of him. “Unless I’m actually concussed... do I know your name, or did we skip the introduction?” 

It only hits him now that you both indeed haven't introduced each other. He chuckles and holds out his hand. “Felix.” 

You take it, and your hand feels warm and delicate in his. “Nice to meet you, Felix.” 

You seem like you're about to wrap up the night, but he can see it in the way you're fidgeting, like you're ready to go but also unsure about how to end things. 

“I’d better head home,” you mutter, your voice almost apologetic. 

But Felix isn’t ready to end the night, and he can tell you don’t want to, either—you just don’t have the nerve to ask. And honestly, he doesn’t want the moment to slip away, so he decides to give you an out. 

“Let me take you home,” he offers, and when your eyes meet his, he can see the relief flicker across your face. 

When the taxi pulls up outside your apartment building, he watches you try to act cool, but he can tell you’re hesitating. You don’t want the night to end any more than he does, but you aren’t going to say it. 

Felix has been with enough people to know when someone is too shy to speak up, and you are definitely in that space. He leans in slightly and asks, “Do you mind if I come in for a bit? I’m afraid I need to use your bathroom.” 

Your face lights up with a smile you can’t hide, and he has to hold back a grin of his own. 

“I don’t mind at all," you say, trying so hard to conceal the excitement in your voice. 

The two of you head inside. You lead the way to your apartment, climbing the stairs, giving him a view of your back as the hem of your dress sways while you walk until you reach the fourth floor.

Thank God for that! If you climbed another flight of stairs, he would have followed his intrusive thoughts and dropped to his knees to peek under your skirt to see what kind of underwear you’re wearing. 

Felix bets it's white, cotton, probably with cute floral prints. He shakes the thought away when you abruptly stop walking as you arrive at the front door of your apartment. 

Once you unlock the door, you open it and step aside to let Felix in. He flashes you a smile as he steps in the small yet cozy apartment. He glances around and sees the pictures on the wall, mostly of you and a tall girl with curly brown hair. He remembers her as one of the girls you’ve been with at the club. 

“The bathroom is that way,” you tell him, and Felix makes his way down the hall. 

Once inside, he wastes a bit of time washing his hands, fixing his hair, checking the hair products, all the while giving you a moment to settle. 

When he comes out, you’re in the kitchen, your hair now tied back into a low bun, exposing your neck and the soft tendrils of hair on the nape of your neck. You look… different, but still really cute. 

“Would you like a drink?” you ask, sauntering your way to the fridge. 

“Anything cold would be nice,” he answers. 

You take two cans of soda out of the fridge, bringing them with you to the living room and sitting on the small sofa. 

“Sit down, please,” you say, permitting him to sit in the space next to you since there’s no other place to sit. 

“This is a nice apartment,” he comments, his eyes glancing around while his hand works the tab on his soda can. 

“Thanks,” you mutter with a smile, holding the can of soda in both hands. It has been opened, but you're not drinking it. 

"I can safely assume you live with a roommate?" he asks, then takes a gulp of his soda, which instantly refreshes him. 

"Yes," you answer. "Rex, she’s one of the girls... back in the club," you awkwardly explain, confirming that he's right—she's the same girl from the club. 

"Is it short for Tyrannosaurus—" he pauses for dramatic effect, "—Rex?" 

You let out a chuckle and push your glasses up your nose. "Her real name is Rebecca, but she insisted on being called Rex because it's..." 

"Sounds cooler?" he easily guesses. 

"Yeah," you nod in confirmation, "and it's her birthday today, so..." 

"That's why you were at the club?" he asks, slowly getting his curiosity answered. 

"I think it's obvious that I wasn't there because of my own volition," you openly admit. 

Felix can see it now—the way you seemed out of place back at the club. It isn’t your scene, and it makes sense now that you explained it is Rex’s thing. He hesitates, feeling a question burning in his mind, one that he needs an answer to, regardless of what it might reveal. 

"And the kiss?"

-

Oh, no! Not this again. 

Please don't say that Felix is actually interested in Rex and that he was checking her out instead of you. This wouldn't be your first time, but what a pity! What a pity it would be if that turned out to be true. 

Until Felix asked about the kiss and whether it was Rex’s idea or not. 

Your throat tightens, but you know you have to be honest. “Rex dared me to do it,” you admit, your words tumbling out faster than you wanted. 

He nods, but you can see a flash of disappointment in his eyes—brief but noticeable. Before he can respond, you rush to explain the rest of the truth. 

“But the one we shared in the alley? That was me. I wanted that,” you add. 

Felix gives you the chance to explain more, so you continue, determined to make him understand. You put your can of soda on the table and inhale before speaking. 

“Earlier, during this game Rex and her friends played, they were talking about all these wild things they’d done, and I just sat there... realizing how much I’ve missed out on.” You pause to let out a sigh as the weight of your confession settles between you. “I’ve spent so much time focused on studying, hitting all my academic goals, that I never gave myself the chance to live. And I don’t want to wake up one day full of regret for not taking chances.” 

You look up from your lap at him—not necessarily meeting his eyes, or else you'll be a nervous wreck. “So tonight, I decided to push myself for once. The kiss might’ve started as a dare, but when I pulled you into that alley… that was real. For the first time in my life, I felt so alive.” 

Felix remains quiet for a moment, his eyes searching yours, taking in every word. You can feel his hesitation, though—a cautious distance. His concern isn’t just about your head injury; it's something more. 

“You don’t have to do all that just because your friends have done it,” he says, his voice gentle but firm. “You do it when you’re ready.” 

His words hit home, and you feel a wave of realization. The thrill and the pressure you’ve felt earlier are starting to clash with a deeper understanding of what you really want. 

You may be naïve and know little about this intimate stuff, but you're also the one who knows you best, and you know what you want—you want this. 

“I’m doing this for me. I want it. I'm ready," you unequivocally say, full of conviction. 

Felix’s expression softens, but doubts linger in his eyes. “I think you know what kind of guy I am. I don’t do relationships. I… casually date. I’m not a good guy.” 

You can’t help but smile at that, shaking your head in disagreement at his last statement. “You insisted on taking me to the hospital, waited until I got treated, and then made sure I got home safely. If that’s not a good guy, I don’t know what is,” you lay out all the facts on why he isn't what he says he is. 

He sighs, clearly conflicted, running his hand through his long, bleached hair. “I’m just not sure if you really want to do this… with me.” 

“I want to do this with you," you say without the slightest doubt. 

There's a reason why he's here when he had his chances to walk out of this situation. He could have ditched you back there in the club, in the dark alley, or at the hospital. He could have gotten into that taxi and gone home, but instead, he chose to come in here. 

Felix is quiet again, his eyes locked on yours as he considers what you said. Then, after what feels like an eternity, he lets out a sigh, letting the last bit of hesitation slip away from him. 

"We should go to your bedroom," he says, his voice low but confident. 

The excitement flares up in your chest, your heart racing as you rise from the sofa. This is it. The feeling you’ve been chasing all night—the sense of truly living, of stepping out of your comfort zone. You lead him to your bedroom, each step heavy with anticipation. 

When you open the door to your bedroom, you pause for a moment, suddenly feeling vulnerable. It’s strange—no one ever warns you how personal it feels to show someone your bedroom. It’s not just a room; it’s a reflection of you, of your habits, your life. You close the door behind you, your breath catching as Felix steps in and takes a quick look around. 

He glances over the shelves, where countless books are crammed into every available space. A small smile tugs at his lips, a look of slight amusement crossing his face as he takes it all in. It’s like he doesn’t expect this—your quiet, introverted world clashing with the chaotic energy of the night. 

But then his eyes land back on you, and your pulse quickens. You’re alone now, really alone, in the privacy of your bedroom, and the reality of it all settles over you. You can feel the weight of the moment, not knowing how to begin but wanting to. You step closer to him, hoping he’ll take the lead. 

Felix sits down on the edge of your bed, his eyes still on you. He pats the space beside him, an invitation, and you sit down next to him, nerves tingling under your skin. 

"You have a very interesting room," he says with a playful smile, but there’s no mockery in his tone—only genuine surprise. 

You shyly chuckle, your hands fidgeting in your lap. "Yeah, I’m… very aware." 

He turns to you, his gaze softening. He’s studying you, taking you in, and when he looks into your eyes, you feel like he’s seeing something deeper. Then, as if realizing something, his brow furrows slightly. 

“Can I take them off?" he asks, nodding toward your glasses. "Will you still be able to see without them?” 

“I’m nearsighted, so yeah,” you confirm, your hand halfway to your face to take them off, but Felix gets ahead, gently removing them for you. Then he places them carefully on your bedside table. 

The world around you becomes a soft blur, but Felix… Felix is in perfect focus. He’s all you can see. His delicate features stand out, his warm brown eyes locking onto yours, his freckles like tiny constellations dusting his cheeks and nose. It’s like he’s become the center of your universe, and nothing else matters in that moment. 

You get a little overwhelmed as you take him in—his beauty so striking, so close, making your heart beat out of your chest. You wonder if he can hear it too. 

"Can I take your hair down?" Felix asks, his voice soft but deliberate. 

Unable to provide a verbal answer, you nod. His hand is quick to reach behind your head, releasing your hair from the tie, and you feel an unexpected wave of relaxation wash over you, like the tension you’d been carrying all night had been held there, in your hair. 

Felix’s fingers move through the strands gently, combing through them, letting the ends slip through his fingers. The tattoos on his hand catch your attention, and as his sleeve rides up, you notice even more ink snaking up his arm. 

"How many tattoos do you have?" you ask, unable to hide your curiosity. 

"I stopped counting a long time ago," Felix chuckles, a lightness in his voice that makes you smile. 

He notices your lingering gaze on his tattoos, and without hesitation, he starts unbuttoning the cuff of his shirt. He lets the fabric fall back, giving you a clearer view of the designs that cover his skin. The sight of his muscles beneath the inked patterns, the veins trailing down his arm, captivates you. 

"Is it okay if I touch you?" you ask, your voice quiet, unsure if it’s too bold. 

"You can touch me," he says with an encouraging smile, "anywhere." 

The last word unexpectedly provokes you; it was just a word until Felix gives it a new meaning now, and it's been echoing in the back of your mind in his deep, low voice. Anywhere. 

With a tentative hand, you reach out, slowly rolling his sleeve up higher. The tattoos become more detailed—the lines and shading intricate—but what holds your attention is the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips. The combination of the ink and the physicality of him makes you feel a strange sense of intimacy. Afraid that you're overstepping, you let the sleeve fall back and flash him a smile of gratitude.

“You know this will be easier if you sit closer,” Felix says, his tone suggestive but gentle. 

You shift closer, trying to keep your breath steady. The space between you shrinks, but the heat from his body seems to rise, making your heart race. 

"Closer," Felix murmurs, his eyes twinkling with amusement. 

You move another inch. 

"More," he says, his voice a bit firmer this time. 

You scoot a little more until finally, there’s no space left between you. Your body is pressed against his, and the warmth from him feels overwhelming, your skin tingling from the proximity. 

"I think you should put your hand around my neck," Felix suggests, his voice a low rumble. 

"Are you sure?" you ask, still worried about overstepping. 

"Of course," he reassures you, guiding your hand up to his shoulder. 

From there, you let it drift to the back of his neck, feeling the strong line of muscle beneath your palm. 

The two of you are incredibly close; you can feel his breath brushing against your cheek. As if the proximity isn't enough, his hand cups your jaw, his thumb softly rubbing your cheek, sending a shiver down your spine. 

It doesn't take a genius to know what comes next; you can feel it coming as the tension intensifies with each passing second. 

"I'm not a good kisser," you blurt out, your insecurities successfully breaking through the haze of the moment. 

"You did just fine earlier," he says, watching as his thumb swipes across your lower lip. 

You try to argue, but before you can say another word, Felix presses a soft kiss to your cheek, leaving a searing warmth behind. 

"Stop thinking and just..." he trails off, kissing just beneath your eye, sending a shock of sensation through you, "… do it." 

Before you can process his words, his lips find yours. The kiss is electric and powerful, wiping away every doubt and insecurity. The world narrows down to the feeling of his mouth on yours, the sound of your breath mingling in the quiet of your bedroom. 

Felix pulls away just enough for you to catch your breath, his hand moving to brush your hair to the side. He does it carefully to avoid accidentally touching the bandaged wound on your forehead. 

"Now," he says, voice deep with desire, "we’re going to put in a little tongue." 

Dazed and a little disoriented from the kiss, you nod, your brain unable to compute a word. 

He kisses you again, this time slower, more deliberate, teasing you with his tongue as it slides across your lips. It’s sensual and intimate, and when you let him in, the kiss deepens, and you try your best to move in sync with him. 

When Felix pulls away, he’s grinning, looking impressed. "See? You’re a natural." 

Flustered, you look down, but he isn’t having it. He wants your eyes, your full attention on him, so he puts his hand under your chin, gently angling your face back toward his. 

Not giving you a moment to think, he plants a kiss on your lips again—gently, but there’s intensity to it, a sense of hunger that needs to be satisfied. 

At the same time, his other hand travels down to your back, tracing down your spine before he withdraws it back to your front, reaching for the button of your dress. 

You've been handling it well so far, but when he touches you there, it triggers the alarm bells in your head. You try to convince yourself that it's okay; you trust Felix, and he's not going to harm you, but your body abruptly freezes, and you stiffen against him. 

Felix notices immediately and takes his hands off of you, concern painted on his small face. 

"Did I do something wrong?" he asks softly, not wanting to alarm you further. 

First, it was Rex’s birthday party, and not long after that, you did it again by bumping your head during a makeout session in the dark alley, and now this. You sigh and look down at your lap, wondering why you keep sabotaging your life like this. 

"I’m sorry, I just... I–I wasn’t ready for that," you meekly say, looking down at your lap, feeling embarrassed. 

"That’s okay," he says with a soothing voice. "I’d rather you tell me when you’re uncomfortable." 

Anyone else might have been annoyed or disappointed, but Felix—he’s patient, gentle, and very understanding. You feel a rush of gratitude for him. 

"Okay," you murmur, nodding. 

"Or you can just slap me next time," he jokes, trying to lighten the mood. 

Slapping his face would feel like vandalizing the Mona Lisa, so you shake your head in strong disagreement while softly laughing, "No. I wouldn’t do that." 

Thanks to you freaking out without reason, you have to start all over again, and you can only hope that Felix has some patience left for you. 

You watch as he glances toward your bedside table, eyeing the small stack of books. "Are these the ones you’re reading?" 

"Yeah," you reply, your smile returning. 

"You’re telling me you’re reading five books at once?" he asks. His tattooed fingers trail along the spines as he reads the titles under his breath. 

"Three are for school," you say, chuckling, "but the other two are for fun." 

"Oh, so you do know how to have fun," he teases you with a charming smile that makes his eyes lively. 

You know he's trying to lighten the mood, and you feel thankful that he indeed still has some patience left in him. 

Felix picks up the smallest one from the top of the stack and flips through the pages. "Poetry," he remarks. 

"Yeah," you nod, feeling a bit shy. 

He looks at you with something new in his eyes. "Would you read me one?" 

"A poem?" you stammer. 

"No, the index page," he teases you yet again. 

You laugh, feeling a bit silly for asking, and then take the book from him. You open it, easily finding the page you marked as your favorite poem. 

"Okay... I’ll try," you say as you clear your throat.

Your fingers nervously brush the edges of the page, eyes glancing at the words, but you’re aware of Felix’s gaze on you. His presence is overwhelming—his closeness, the subtle intensity in his expression. 

Despite everything, you begin reading, your voice low and a little shaky. 

"Somewhere I have never travelled, gladly beyond any experience, your eyes have their silence: in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me, or which I cannot touch because they are too near." 

Felix leans in closer, his breath warm against your cheek. His hand moves to the back of your neck, brushing the loose strands of your hair away. 

You pause, feeling the pressure of his nearness, but he nudges you gently. 

"Keep reading," he whispers against your skin, the warmth of his voice sending a shiver down your spine. 

You swallow, forcing yourself to focus. Your voice is a little shaky as you continue. 

"Your slightest look easily will unclose me though I have closed myself as fingers; you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens—" 

Felix’s lips press softly against the corner of your mouth just as your voice falters. You draw in a breath, trying to steady yourself, but his kiss lingers, feather-light and teasing. 

You glance at him, the lines of the poem slipping from your mind. 

"Go on," he murmurs, his mouth now brushing your jawline. His hand slips to your waist, holding you in place as if keeping you tethered to the moment. 

"I... I—" you stammer, your focus crumbling under his touch, his lips trailing a path down to your neck. You grip the book tighter, trying to maintain the thread of the poem, your voice coming out as a breathy whisper: "you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens (touching skilfully, mysteriously) her first rose—" 

Felix presses another kiss just below your ear, making your breath hitch. He’s being gentle but deliberate, his lips grazing your skin with an intention that makes it almost impossible to concentrate. 

Your heart bursts, the words on the page becoming blurry. "Felix..." you murmur, caught between the poem and the sensation of his kisses. 

"Don’t stop," he whispers again, this time against the curve of your neck, sending a rush of warmth through you. "I want to hear the rest." 

Your voice quivers as you try to continue, the lines of the poem mixing with the feeling of his lips. 

"Or if your wish be to close me, I and my life will shut very beautifully, suddenly, as when the heart of this flower imagines the snow carefully everywhere descending—" 

His kisses grow slower, more languid, as if savoring every inch of your skin. Each one draws you further away from the poem, your pulse quickening under his touch. He pulls back just slightly, and his eyes meet yours, his gaze heavy with desire, but still, he urges you on. 

"Finish it," he says softly, his thumb tracing your lower lip as he holds your gaze. 

You exhale shakily, barely able to focus anymore, but you try.

"Nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals the power of your intense fragility..." 

Before you can finish the last line, Felix’s lips capture yours, cutting off the rest of the poem. His kiss is deeper this time, not asking for permission but claiming the moment as his own. The book slips from your hand, forgotten, as you lean into him, your breath mingling with his. 

The poetry becomes a distant memory as his kisses consume you, every touch drawing you further into him. And for the first time, you don’t feel the need to pull back or hesitate. You melt into the moment, into him, as the poem fades into the background, replaced by the quiet intensity of Felix’s lips on yours. 

The poem may be incomplete, but the moment is whole. 

-

Felix watches as you fumble with the edges of the poetry book, your nervousness plain in the way your fingers tremble. He can sense how hard you’re trying to focus, trying to find your voice in the moment.

There’s a certain charm in how unsure you are, the way your eyes keep darting up to him, like you’re looking for some kind of permission. But he knows you don’t need it. You want this—he can feel it in the air between you.

When you finally start to read, your voice is soft, hesitant.

“Somewhere I have never travelled, gladly beyond any experience, your eyes have their silence...”

Felix can barely concentrate on the words. It’s your voice—that shaky, uncertain quality—that pulls him in, and you’re so close. He leans in, pressing the warmth of his lips against your cheek, testing, teasing. He feels the way you stiffen, your breath catching. He doesn’t want to overwhelm you, but the urge to touch you, to close that gap, is too strong.

"Keep reading," he murmurs, his lips brushing your skin, barely above a whisper. He feels your pulse quicken beneath his touch.

You take a deep breath and continue, your voice even softer now, trying to hold it together.

"Your slightest look easily will unclose me though I have closed myself as fingers..."

As your voice trails off again, Felix can't resist. His lips graze the corner of your mouth, light and fleeting. He watches your eyes flutter, sees the way you're barely hanging onto the thread of the poem, and it makes him smile inwardly. He pulls back just enough to see the heat in your cheeks, the uncertainty fighting with desire in your eyes.

"Go on," he urges, this time pressing his lips to the soft skin just beneath your jawline. His hand slips to your waist, fingers curling lightly around you, holding you steady, grounding you as he teases.

"I–I..." Your voice falters completely as his lips trail lower, brushing the sensitive spot near your neck.

He loves the way you stammer, the way your breath comes in shallow gasps.

"You open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens—"

Felix hears your voice waver again, and he chuckles softly against your neck. He knows exactly what he’s doing. The poem doesn’t stand a chance against his kisses, but he likes this game, this slow unraveling of your composure.

"Felix..." you murmur, barely able to hold onto the words.

He pulls back just enough to speak, his breath warm against your ear. "Don’t stop." His voice is low, coaxing, as he brushes another kiss just below your ear. "I want to hear the rest."

You try—he can see you trying—but the way you tremble beneath his touch makes it almost impossible for you to concentrate. He watches you struggle, a mix of amusement and desire in his gaze as you fight to continue.

"...Or if your wish be to close me, I and my life will shut very beautifully..."

Felix’s lips move slowly across your skin, savoring every inch. He can feel the tension in you, the way you’re holding onto control by a thread. But then, something shifts. He presses one last kiss to your neck, soft and lingering, and watches as your resolve crumbles. The book slips from your hands, your breath hitching in your chest.

“Finish it,” Felix whispers, his thumb grazing your lower lip. He can see the words have all but left you, but he waits, eyes fixed on your trembling lips.

"...The power of your intense fragility..."

Before you can finish the line, Felix presses his lips to yours. The words are lost as he kisses you, claiming the moment. There’s no hesitation in the way your body responds, melting into him as if you’ve been waiting for this all night. The book falls from your hands, forgotten, as his hands move to pull you closer.

He feels the way you surrender to the kiss, how every bit of uncertainty you held before dissolves. His kiss deepens, slow but deliberate, until he pulls back just enough to look at you, lips still close, your breaths mingling.

Felix takes a quick check to see if you're comfortable enough to continue, his thumb brushing across your cheek as he leans his forehead against yours. He can feel the way you’re still caught in the moment, still wanting more.

His hand slides down to your shoulder, tracing the curve of your spine. He brushes your hair to the side, kissing you again—slower this time, deeper. The way you respond, your lips meeting his with growing confidence, only pulls him in more.

Felix takes your hand and gently places it on his chest. He feels the way your hand stays immobile for a moment, but then it starts to move, roaming curiously over his body. Your touch is tentative but warm, and soon enough, your fingers tug at the opening of his shirt, revealing a peek of inked skin underneath. Felix notices the way your curiosity lights up your face. “Do you want to see the rest of my tattoos?”

You hesitate, biting your lip as you think about it, unsure if you should say yes. To avoid letting him hear how eager you are, you nod instead.

“But you have to help me with the buttons,” he says, glancing down at his shirt.

It’s a subtle invitation, but the way he says it makes you feel like you’re in control. You start undoing the buttons, one by one, your fingers working carefully, as if each button is a gateway to something unknown. When you finish, you stop, leaving the fabric still draped across his chest. There’s a moment of hesitation, as if parting the shirt will reveal something too intimate, something more than just skin.

Felix senses your nerves, so he does the rest; he shrugs the shirt off his shoulders, revealing the ink that covers his chest and arms. Normally, he’s confident about his body, but under your gaze, he feels a flicker of vulnerability. You’re studying him, and he can feel the weight of it, like you’re looking past the surface.

“It’s all over you,” you mutter in awe.

One, in particular, seems to draw your attention—the dragon on his ribcage. Felix notices the way your hand lingers there, eyes fixed on the intricate design. He smiles softly, taking your hand and pressing it gently against the dragon.

“Here... feel it,” he says, guiding your touch.

Your fingers trace the lines of the tattoo, feather-light and full of wonder. Every slight graze of your fingertips sends a rush through him, and the way you’re touching him so delicately is like you’re trying to memorize the feel of each tattoo.

“Do you like it?” he asks, his voice soft but laced with curiosity.

“I had no idea I liked tattoos until now,” you innocently answer.

There's something so honest in your words, and Felix can’t help but smile, feeling the tension between you shift into something deeper, more intimate. He watches you as your fingers continue to explore, and for the first time in a long while, he feels a kind of peace in this closeness, like it’s more than just physical. There’s something in the way you touch him, like you’re seeing him for the first time—not just his body, but all the stories inked into his skin.

Then you take your hand back and fidget in your seat. You open your mouth, but no words come out. After a while, you ask, “Should I undress?”

“Only if you want to,” he says, not wanting to pressure you and also trying to make it clear that this is on your terms.

With a shy nod, you start moving, fingers flying to the buttons of your dress, fumbling a little in your nervousness. Felix notices and, sensing your discomfort, turns his head away, giving you the privacy you need. He helps by dimming the lights on your bedside lamp, knowing that a girl like you prefers the softer glow to ease the tension. Now, the room is bathed in a quiet, warm light, making everything feel more intimate, more comfortable.

“Do you need help?” he offers after a moment, his back still to you.

“I’m done anyway,” you respond, your voice softer now.

Felix hears the faint sound of your dress hitting the floor, and he inhales, preparing himself for what he's going to see. He turns his head slowly, careful not to look directly at you until he’s sure you’re comfortable. His eyes first meet yours, searching for any sign that you’re nervous, that you want him to stop, but you hold his gaze, and that’s all the permission he needs. His eyes travel down, finally taking in the sight of you.

The first thing that catches his attention is the unexpected—the matching silk and lace set you’re wearing, soft and delicate against your skin. It’s a contrast to the image he had in mind, and it takes his breath away. The colors, the fabric—it all highlights your natural beauty in a way that almost overwhelms him.

Beautiful. That’s the only word that comes to mind, but even that feels like it doesn’t do you justice. You’re beyond that. You’re captivating in a way that makes him hesitant to even touch you, as if the act itself would somehow break the spell between you.

“I want to touch you,” he admits, his voice trembling with restraint, overwhelmed by how much he desires you but not wanting to rush.

“Okay,” you say, so simply, so openly.

-

The intimacy of the moment is overwhelming. Felix is sitting there, shirtless, and the way he’s looking at you makes your skin tingle. The silence stretches between you, heavy with unspoken questions.

After a while, you finally manage to speak. “Should I undress?”

Felix’s gaze is soft, his voice gentle when he responds, “Only if you want to.”

His words reassure you, but still, your hands tremble as you reach for the buttons on your dress. You fumble with them, nervous fingers struggling to move faster. Felix, sensing your discomfort, turns away, giving you a moment to compose yourself. It’s a small gesture, but it makes you feel better, like he understands without needing to be told.

You manage to undo the last button, letting the dress slip down your shoulders and fall to the floor with a soft thud. You glance at Felix, and he still isn’t looking. He’s turned the light down, creating a softer, warmer atmosphere that eases some of the tension in your chest. It’s as if he knows that you’d rather not be fully exposed in the harsh glow of bright light.

“Do you need help?” he asks, his voice careful, like he’s afraid of pushing you too far.

“I’m done anyway,” you reply, your voice shaky but steady enough.

Felix exhales, turning back to face you slowly, almost cautiously. He looks into your eyes first, making sure you’re okay before letting his gaze travel down. When his eyes finally take in the sight of you, you see something shift in him. His expression softens, and you feel your heart pounding in your chest, almost painfully so.

You weren’t sure what he’d expect to see, but the look on his face—like he’s in awe—makes you feel beautiful in a way you’ve never felt before. You're wearing your favorite matching set, silk and lace, in a color that contrasts perfectly with your skin. You chose it thinking you might need something that makes you feel confident, but now, under Felix’s gaze, you wonder if it was the right choice. But then you see the way he looks at you, like you’re something precious, and all your doubts melt away.

“I want to touch you,” Felix says softly, his voice trembling, almost as if he’s afraid to break the moment.

“Okay,” you answer, trying to sound calm even though your heart feels like it’s about to explode.

Felix doesn’t rush. His movements are slow, deliberate. He brushes your hair aside, his fingertips barely grazing your skin, but it’s enough to send a shiver down your spine. His knuckles trace down your chest, stopping at the center, right between your breasts. His hand rests flat there, and you feel the warmth of his palm seeping into your skin, the beat of your heart thudding loudly under his touch.

“You're so beautiful,” he softly murmurs as he looks into your eyes.

You can feel heat spreading across your face. You want to say something, but the words get stuck in your throat. Instead, you just look down, overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment, by how gentle and caring he’s being.

Felix leans in, and when he kisses you, it’s not rushed. His lips are soft, and the kiss is gentle, as though he’s trying to coax you out of your shell. You kiss him back, a little more confidently this time, the warmth of his body pressing against yours making everything feel more natural.

The more time you spend with Felix, the more certain you feel that you’re in the right place, with the right person. His presence is calming, his touch patient and careful. Every kiss, every gentle brush of his hand against your skin reminds you that he’s giving you all the time in the world. He doesn’t rush, doesn’t push you beyond what you’re ready for, and that thought alone is enough to make your heart swell.

Felix holds back so much—it’s evident in the way he slows his movements, adjusting to your hesitance, waiting for you to catch up, to feel comfortable. You notice how he looks at you, always checking, always making sure you’re okay with what’s happening. He’s so understanding that you can feel your insecurities start to melt away, one by one, like the weight of them no longer matters in this space you’ve created together.

As the kissing becomes more intense, your breathing picks up, and the room feels warmer. You feel his strong yet gentle hand resting on your shoulder, his fingers playing with the strap of your bra, and you know what comes next.

This time, you decide to take the initiative and ask, “Do you want me to take these off?”

“If you allow me to,” he answers with a soft smile.

You’ve always known your body isn't the kind men fantasize about, or at least, that’s what you tell yourself. “They’re not—They’re not my best features,” you meekly admit.

Felix’s eyes don’t waver, and his smile turns into a playful smirk, one that both teases and comforts at the same time. “How can I know for sure when I haven’t seen them?”

You feel a smile tugging at your lips; he has a fair point, and you can’t argue with him when he looks at you like that—like he sees you, not just the parts you want to hide.

You nod, giving him permission, and lean forward slightly to make it easier for him to reach behind you. His fingers find the clasp of your bra almost immediately, without hassle.

The sound of it unclasping makes your breath hitch, anticipation swirling in the air between you, and then he pulls back just enough to let the bra fall away, his fingers gently sliding the straps down your shoulders. His movements are slow, with excitement simmering underneath, as if he’s unwrapping a precious gift.

And then, you’re bare in front of him, vulnerable in a way that sends a nervous thrill through you.

Felix doesn’t rush to fill the silence. He doesn’t gawk or make you feel exposed. Instead, he looks at you with a soft, quiet admiration that makes your heart flutter.

“They're perfect,” he says, and the sincerity in his praise makes your insecurities seem small, insignificant.

-

Felix's breath catches in his throat at the sight of you, bare in front of him. The soft curves of your chest stir something deep inside him, and for a moment, he has to hold back from letting his hands act purely on impulse. He swallows hard, trying to keep his cool, even though the urge to touch you is overwhelming.

“They’re perfect,” he says softly, his voice rougher than he intended. He means it. It’s not about size or shape—he just likes seeing you, just like this.

If he's being honest, you’re not what Felix thought he always wanted. But now, with you in front of him, he finds himself thinking that you’re more than enough—perfect, in fact.

He lets himself lose a bit of that self-control, his hand reaching out, grazing your skin before cupping your breast, his gentle yet curious fingers exploring the softness of your chest. They fit perfectly in his tattooed hands, and he feels heat rising in him.

“See? They’re perfect,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin as if to prove the point.

You remain quiet as he touches you, but your eyes go wide, lips parting slightly, and then, unexpectedly, you run your palms over your own breasts, fingers grazing your nipples with a restless, almost nervous motion.

The sight of you touching yourself, so innocently but also with that hidden desire, nearly drives him over the edge. He has to clench his jaw to stop himself from groaning aloud.

"Why are you looking at them like that?" you curiously ask in a shy voice.

“Like what?” he asks, his voice deep and low, almost a growl as he leans in closer, needing to hear you say it.

“Like you want t-to…” You hesitate, stumbling over your words.

“Lick them? Suck them?” he finishes the sentence for you, the words falling from his lips with an intensity that makes you look down at your lap, cheeks heated.

You nod, too shy to say it aloud.

Felix exhales slowly, his restraint hanging by a thread. “Come here!” his voice is rough, almost commanding as he gestures for you to sit on his lap.

Biting your lip, you crawl onto him and sit right on his lap.. You freeze for a moment, probably feeling his hard flesh prodding under you.

"You can ignore that," he tells you, at least for now, but he knows both of you can’t ignore that for long.

Somehow, that thought worries him, and he expected you to sit stiff as a board on his lap, but you immediately settle in close, and when he puts his arm around you, you let out a ragged sigh, instantly melting into him.

Fuck, you're so close, especially that part of you, hanging so close to his mouth. He gulps air and reminds himself to take things slowly. This is about you, not him.

You put your hand under his arm and grasp at his back, your hard nipples grazing his chest in the process, and Felix can’t resist cupping your breasts and rubbing his fingers over them.

Soon, your body softens around him, but his hands grow rough as he touches you, molding you to him as he claims your mouth. The kiss is a savage thing of teeth and tongues, but there’s no hint of protest from you. Instead, you match his roughness for roughness, kissing him back until you run out of breath.

As you come up for air, he covers your nipple with his mouth and sucks hard. He pulls you close so he can do the same with the other one; this time, he has your nipple rolling on his tongue. Oh, he can do it all night, just playing with your soft mounds.

Your fingers make their way through his hair, tugging at it as you arch your back with unconscious demand. It's apparent that you love this, losing your mind over his touches.

Felix lets go of your breast, then drags his lips upward, climbing the column of your throat until they find yours, kissing your mouth with such intensity that it causes you to sharply inhale air.

As he's kissing you, his hands refuse to remain idle. He cups your breasts, stroking the buds until they ache and pinches them, sending a burst of sensation straight to your core. With caution, he takes it to the next level, shifting his focus to another sensitive part of you. He's smoothing a hand over your stomach, and he can feel your muscles clench. Cautiously, he slides a hand up your inner thigh.

“I want to touch you here,” he says while gently palming your sex with a bold grasp, and the heat of his touch spreads through the fabric of your panties, searing hot.

Your hand immediately flies to grip his wrist, intending to pull him away, but your hand stays there; if anything, you pull it back and let it rest on his inked forearm.

“Is that permission?” he whispers into your ear.

He sees the conflict in your eyes. He guesses the reason you hesitate is that this is new to you, and you don't know how to handle this side of yourself. After a while, your body wins over your hesitant mind as your hips arch against his hand, asking him to continue, asking him for more.

He pushes your underwear to the side, and as he kisses your neck, his fingers trace your bundle of nerves, circling it, then applying the gentlest of pressure to test whether you like it or not.

A low moan slips out of you, and he can feel you tugging at his hair, hard.

"Do you want me to keep my hand there?" he asks as he looks into your dazed eyes.

You innocently nod.

"All right. I'll do that," he says with a hasty kiss on your lips. He continues by tracing your slick entrance with his fingertips, touching you there lightly, trailing around and around in dizzying circles.

"Does that feel good?" he asks, barely audible.

Still unable to give him a verbal answer, you nod again.

He aims his parted mouth toward your neck and purposely scrapes his teeth against your skin before he licks and kisses you there, causing goosebumps to spread over your skin.

"Will you let me get inside?" he asks for permission as his fingers tease your entrance.

It's obvious that you want it from the way you're arching your hips against his hand, but he doesn't want to risk losing you to the nerves again; he needs to hear you say it this time.

"Yes," you breathlessly say with a small nod.

With your consent given, his fingers search through your folds, coating them with your essence, and he lingers around your entrance for a little while before pushing one finger into you.

He feels your sharp intake of air as your head rests so close to his, your teeth faintly biting your lower lip to muffle the noises you make.

Felix gives you time to adjust before adding another digit. Two fingers are inside you now, pumping them, and he curls them, finding that spot that makes you...

"Oh!" you gasp, your hand grasping at the end of his hair like it gives you a lifeline. Your legs tremble, causing you to lose your balance, and you almost topple back, but Felix is quick to grip your waist to keep you steady.

The whole thing is so cute. Felix rubs his lips to hide a grin as you steady yourself on his lap and fold your hands in your lap. He knows that if he continues, you’d likely fall to the floor. You're the kind of girl who gets weak when you get hot, and don’t get him wrong; he loves that. If anything, it makes every bit of effort it has taken to get past your guard worth it.

"It's better if we lay down," he suggests as he removes the strand of hair caught between your lips.

"Okay," you say, your voice small and filled with obedience.

Once you get off his lap, Felix takes the lead again. He stretches out near the center of the bed, propping himself up on an elbow, and pats the space next to him. No moment of hesitation this time, you crawl across the bed and lay down next to him.

Felix leans over you and kisses you, starting right back at the beginning with innocent brushes of both of your lips and teasing licks before taking your mouth once again. He wouldn't say you're that great of a kisser, but it's entertaining feeling you learn. You may lack in skill, but you make up for it with your eagerness.

He puts your hand on his bare chest, letting you roam free from there; he needs you to feel him too, how his body heats all over from his desire for you. You drag your hand down his chest, fingers trailing the hard ridges of his abs, and then you keep heading down south, meeting the waistband of his jeans.

Felix is unprepared when your hand suddenly goes to his crotch and strokes over the fly of his pants. Pleasure courses through him, and his cock jumps in excitement, a hoarse groan slipping out of his parted mouth.

He remains calm even though you've just awakened a part of him that he wants to keep tamed, for now. He notices the curious hand and then the curious eyes.

"Want to touch it?" he offers, his eyes half shut, heavy with lust.

"Can I?" you ask back instead of answering.

It's about time to set it free anyway; his jeans have been tightening around the crotch for quite some time. He unzips the fly open, then tugs at the waistband of his jeans and pulls it low enough to let his swollen member out of its confines.

Your hand lingers on his abdomen, hesitating to put your hand on the thing you're curious about.

He takes your hand, puts it on his cock, and then makes you close your fingers around it. The sight of your soft, delicate hand wrapped around his cock makes his heart thrumming inside his chest.

"This is my cock," he says, trying to keep his voice calm.

He guides you to stroke your hand on it, pumping it up and down his length, showing you the pace he prefers: slow but steady. "I want you to tell me when you want it."

You swallow air and look down to see that he's no longer guiding you; you're stroking his cock on your own, and he must say, you're doing so good at it.

He returns the favor by reaching down between your legs, touching you there again. His fingers meet your wetness, hot and slippery, tantalizing him.

After a moment, he decides to hover above you, letting go of your lips to start making a trail of kisses down your front. Your chest is heaving as he gets closer to your core, but he does the unexpected by detaching his mouth.

"Do you mind if I take this off?" he asks, fingers tugging at the elastic band of your underwear.

You lick your swollen lips and lowly mutter, "No."

He flashes you a soft smile before doing what he asked. His palm scrapes up the outside of your leg as he pulls your underwear down. You help by lifting your hips to make it easier for him to take it off.

Felix stands at the end of the bed with your underwear in his hand. He lets you watch as he takes a long sniff of it; you smell so heavenly that he wants this smell all over him. But first, he has to make it fair. He takes his jeans off along with his underwear, exposing his naked body in all its glory for you—just for you.

In return, he gets to see all of you, your body wrapped in miles and miles of soft skin. His eyes feast on every part of you, but you cross your thighs together, blocking him from seeing the thing that tantalized him all night.

He runs his tattooed hands down your legs, offering you his warmth and comfort as a way to assure you that he wants nothing but to make you feel good. When he deems you're relaxed enough, he parts your legs open, and his eyes widen as if he sees something that goes beyond what his brain can comprehend.

"You're so wet for me," he says, swallowing air as the sight suddenly makes his throat dry.

Felix satisfies his need by taking a closer look at it, his eyes darkened and fixated on the thing that endlessly tantalizes him. He licks his lips in reaction to the overwhelming urge to taste you.

He uses his thumb to circle your clit, which engorges with every motion. "It wants my mouth so badly," he tells you, his eyes dark and heavy with lust.

Felix presses his cheek to your inner thigh and, ever so softly, places a long kiss on the skin. It's close to where he wants to be but not enough. His need grows desperate.

"Put us both out of our misery and let me taste you."

-

Felix is perfect. He stands there like carved stone, but his skin is smooth and hot to the touch, firm but giving, alive. His muscles hunch and shift as he moves, and the dragon tattoo winks at you as he steps out of his pants; the motion alone is so sexy. 

This is Felix in all of his naked glory. He is perfection, even that part of him—gosh, especially that part of him. His erection demands your full attention, hard and veiny, in flawless proportion to the rest of his beautiful body. You have never given a man oral sex before, but your mouth waters at the sight of it. You want it. 

You can’t remember how to breathe as he puts his tattooed hands on you, rubbing them up and down the outside of your legs, making you tingle down there. You see how he quietly inhales air before parting your legs open and lets all the air out of his mouth as he shifts his eyes to see what's between your legs. 

It's the most private part of you, and you expect him to see it in disgust, but the way he looks at it... you see nothing but pure admiration. He puts his focus there, needing more time to process what he's seeing. 

"You're so wet for me," he says, barely audible as he holds his breath. 

He bends down close to your wet flesh, making your nervousness spike to heart-pounding levels, and his eyes never stray away from what he wants. Then his thumb meets the peak of your sex, gently rubbing it, and you quietly moan under your breath. 

"It wants my mouth so badly," he says, receiving your body's signals too well. 

The little kisses he places on your inner thighs feel soft, but you can see that it's not quite what he wants; he's so close to it, yet he handles his self-control really well. 

He closes his eyes for a second, and when he opens them, they immediately find yours. Then he murmurs, "Put us both out of misery and let me taste you." 

It hits you now that he truly wants this, you. He likes what he sees, and his craving for your most private parts is real. It's dirty but highly erotic and exciting. You want to give it to him; you do, but you doubt that the reality will meet his expectations. 

“Will you be disappointed if I don’t like it and I don’t respond like other women?” you ask, feeling a little anxious, thinking that you’re about to ruin the moment. Again. 

“If you don’t like it, then we’ll move on,” he simply says, spreading your legs wider and then landing a gentle, closed-mouth kiss on your clit, catching you off guard. 

Your body stiffens for a second, not expecting that sensuous jolt, and then you relax in the next second. 

"Hate that?" he asks with wistful, downturned eyes. 

"I..." You still can't decide if you like it or not; you need more— 

Felix lands another kiss, followed by a slow tasting of his tongue on it. He hums his approval and covers your sex with his mouth, sucking with slight pressure as his tongue laps over your clit, repeatedly. 

Your mind shuts down; your body slowly goes limp as heat blooms inside you, and your face buries in the blanket as the pleasure intensifies. This feeling is new to you; your body is in a state of shock from the immense sensations, and you feel like you're about to cry when he abruptly stops. 

"You don't like it?" he asks after getting no answer from you. "Let me try it another way..." 

Felix pushes two fingers into you, and your eyes roll to the back as he begins a steady pace, combining it with his tongue flickering over your cunt, and somehow, you can’t stop your hips from rising to meet his thrusts. 

Oh God! You're riding his hand and smothering his face with your wet cunt. You tell yourself to stop, but you can't; you find your hands tangled in his long, bleached-blond hair instead. You're tightening around him, so wet now you can hear the slippery sounds every time he pumps his fingers into you. 

"I'll stop," Felix says as he licks his glistening wet lips, then rubs his tongue over you fast and hard, making you clench helplessly around his fingers. 

"Felix..." you breathlessly call his name. You can't believe how needy you sound—almost pathetic even. 

"One last taste..." Felix says before planting his mouth on you again. He sucks with perfect pressure, his tongue cleverly dragging out the pleasure to keep your release out of reach. He presses a parting kiss to your sex and lifts his head, stopping for real this time. 

"Yeah, you look ready now," he says it so low it's almost like a whisper. 

Truthfully, you've been ready for a while now, and you love the idea of demanding his... cock and him providing it; you just can’t get those words past your lips. 

Apparently, the look on your face tells it all. As he props a hand next to your waist, he looks at you and asks, "Do you want it?" 

You stifle a nod, and you're aware that's not enough to convey how much you want it. 

His hand reaches for the strand of hair covering your face and asks again, "Do you want it now?" 

Want, want, want. You eagerly respond in your head, but you force yourself to remain calm and say, "Yes." 

Felix nods and lands a kiss along your jaw, then drags his lips close to your ear. With a hoarse voice, he whispers, "I'll give it to you." 

His warm, soft yet firm body blankets yours as his lips bombard you with kisses, each kiss peeling away your senses along with your worries and insecurities; you eventually stop thinking altogether. 

"Excuse me for a second," he says with a kiss on your lips, getting off the bed to look for something on the bedroom floor. 

As Felix picks up his jeans from the floor, you watch the muscles on his back bunch and shift as he moves, admiring the twin indentations at the base of his spine. The view is nothing compared to when he turns around, showcasing his ethereal visuals and a godly figure of chiseled abs, not forgetting his cock in a size that demands your attention. 

He gets onto the bed, kneeling and using his teeth to tear through the foil packet to extract the condom. 

"Want to help me with it?" he offers, his eyes sparkling in the dimly lit room. 

You swallow air and say, "Yes." 

Your hands aren't steady, so you and he end up doing it together, and once you’re both done with it, he pulls you close. You shiver at the feel of your skin coming into contact; your nipples graze his chest, and his length burns against your lower belly. You suddenly feel very self-conscious. 

Felix runs his hands up and down your back as he angles his head, trying to catch your gaze but keeps failing. 

“Why won’t you look at me?” 

You look at the hollow in his collarbone and hunch your shoulders forward. "I feel—I feel naked." 

“We’re both naked," he states the obvious with a light smile. 

You don’t know how to explain that you’re not only feeling naked on the outside but also from the inside, and that if he looks into your eyes, he’d see all of you. No one wants to see that. This is supposed to be fun and educational, not soul-baring.

Felix flashes you a smile as he tilts your head by your chin, and you catch a glimpse of tender eyes before you close yours, knowing that he's about to kiss you. 

Soon, his warm lips brush over yours, tasting of him, you, and sex. His hands caress you, gently kneading the flesh of your waist before grabbing you by the thighs and hooking them around him. 

Slowly, he lowers you onto the bed and then covers your body with his. He places sweet little kisses on your jaw, your neck, your cheek, the corner of your mouth, and eventually, your lips. 

“If you don’t like it, if something hurts... I want you to talk to me, okay?" 

As always, you give him a nod before saying the words, "Okay." 

"Okay," he repeats, then sweetly kisses your lips. "Now, can you turn over for me?" 

You obey him, turning over on the bed and lying on your stomach, taking in the sight of the rumpled pillows and wooden headboard. 

"Lift your waist for me, please?" he politely demands, and you do what he asks, lifting your waist off the bed as he slips a pillow underneath. 

It takes you a moment to understand what he's doing. In this position, he chooses not to let him see you, and at the same time, it makes you less self-conscious. 

"Is this better?" he asks as he places a hot kiss on the skin behind your ear. 

"Yes," you say, feeling comfortable already, but you don't think about how you can't see him and what he's going to do to you. 

A low sigh escapes your lips as his rough hand glides down your back and massages the flesh in voluptuous motions. His firm chest brushes against your shoulder blades as he props an arm on the bed next to you. 

You take a deep inhale as his hand reaches between your thighs, his fingers searching through your folds and sinking deep, pumping fresh essence out of you until it drips around them. As if that isn't enough, he teases your clitoris with gentle touches. 

"Felix..." you desperately call his name. 

"You're ready, mmh?" he asks, planting a soft kiss on the nape of your neck. 

Soon, his hard length prods at your entrance and pushes its way inside, painstakingly slow, as if he wants you to feel every inch of that delicious cock stretching you out. 

All this time, you thought sex was repulsive, uncomfortable and painful—something you kept avoiding because your past experiences validated those thoughts—until now. With Felix, you feel nothing but intensifying pleasure even after he is fully sheathed inside you. 

"Oh, you feel too good," he whispers into your ear with a low growl. 

His words make you feel all sorts of things, and you should say something about him too—how good he feels inside you, how he fills you perfectly. You try to speak like he’s asked you to, but all that comes out are gasps and sighs of pleasure. Instead, you try to communicate with your body, spreading your thighs wider for him and trying to match him thrust for thrust. 

His tattooed hand propped against the mattress captures yours, and he interlaces both of your fingers together. 

“Now, it's perfect," he whispers. 

For a timeless moment, you're hovering on the brink until orgasm crashes over you. He knows, but he relentlessly drives into you. You try to meet his thrusts, but you can’t quite match his strength and intensity. 

With your eyes closed, you dare to look over your shoulder, and he immediately captures your mouth, stroking his tongue deep into you. Before the last orgasm has finished, you feel another building. You're clenching hard, the tiny muscles fluttering around his cock. 

With a hoarse groan, Felix surges into you one last time, hard and shallow, sending you both to your highs. He rubs his lips against your jaw and neck, then lowers your shaking body to the bed. He holds you, wrapping his tattooed arms around you and drawing you even closer, holding you like his. 

With your eyes still shut, your fingers trail his forearm, feeling the defined muscle and the smooth skin—a combination that is utterly distracting. His scent, his warmth, and his solidness surround you, slowly lulling you into a dreamless sleep. 

Now, it's perfect, you say in your head.

-

Felix breathes in deeply, letting the warm, comforting scent of your space envelop him as he burrows into the sheets, a happy sigh escaping his lips.

Slowly, he pushes himself up from the bed, and your room looks slightly different basked in the morning sunlight. Like this, he can see the colors of the books on the shelf, the hats and scarves hanging on the bedroom door, and the succulents you keep on your windowsill. Under a different light, your room looks a lot more alive.

It's also illuminating the memories of last night—your shared laughter, the sweet sounds of pleasure that echoed around him, the rustles of the sheets as your naked bodies tangled under the duvet. A rush of warmth fills him at the recollection, but as he looks around, reality settles in: he is in your room, in your apartment, and he shouldn’t overstay his welcome.

Collecting his clothes from the floor, he dresses methodically, and once in a while, he can't help but glance back at the bed where you shared such an intimate night.

Once he's decent, he steps out of the bedroom, finding you right away in the kitchen. Your hair is in a messy bun, glasses perched slightly askew on your nose, and you're dressed in a simple white t-shirt and pajama pants. You are focused on reading something on your phone while quietly eating from a bowl.

“Morning,” he greets, his voice deeper in the morning air, startling you slightly.

“Morning,” you reply, a soft smile lighting up your face.

As he continues buttoning his shirt, he slides onto a vacant stool at the small dining table.

“Orange juice?” you offer, “or do you prefer coffee?”

“Not a coffee person,” he honestly replies, and you immediately pour him a glass of orange juice, your movements easy and familiar.

You turn around to put the carton of juice back into the fridge and come back with a plate of breakfast for him, serving it in front of him.

“I don’t know what you like for breakfast, but this is what I usually cook for my roommate,” you say, sliding a plate of scrambled eggs and toast toward him.

“Wow! Thank you,” he says in utter gratitude.

Felix can’t recall the last time he enjoyed a nice breakfast with the person he had a one-night stand with; usually, he’d be gone before his partner even woke.

He glances toward the door of your roommate’s bedroom, wondering if she's inside.

“The birthday girl isn’t home yet?” he asks as he lifts his fork.

“She’s probably staying over at one of her friends,” you reply, your tone casual, suggesting you are used to this arrangement.

Felix finds it convenient this way. He enjoys the intimacy of just the two of you in the calm of the morning. The presence of another person would only ruin that.

“Is that what you usually have for breakfast?” he asks, peeking into your bowl, which contains slices of fruit, granola, and yogurt.

“Yes,” you answer with a small smile.

“Ah, that explains…” he absentmindedly says, not realizing the implications of his words until you catch his gaze.

“Explain what?” you ask, your curiosity piqued.

“Uh... that explains why you’re so smart,” he lies with a casual smile, hoping to brush off any suspicion.

The truth is, your diet explains why you smell and taste so good; the thought makes him bite back a smile, recalling the events of last night.

"Oh..." your reaction is a mix of surprise and gratitude, but he's still unsure if you understand the meaning behind his words. If you do, just know that it's a compliment.

After breakfast, Felix uses your bathroom for a quick wash-up and retrieves his jacket from the sofa. He adjusts his shirt before putting it on, realizing the time has come to leave, even though he wants to stay longer.

With heavy steps, he approaches you as you stand by the door, sensing the moment is drawing to a close.

Your eyes are on him, but your hands are clasped behind your back, your eyes shimmering with a different kind of light than when he first met you. They seem more alive now, filled with warmth.

“I want to thank you for last night,” you say, a smile creeping onto your face as the memory flashes through your head as it does for him.

“No need to thank me,” he replies. He refuses to accept your thanks when you're not the only one gaining something from last night.

“We had fun last night,” he remarks, not fully realizing he is speaking for both of you.

“I mean, I don’t know about you, but I had fun last night,” he corrects himself with an awkward laugh, pressing a hand to the pulse point on his neck out of nervousness.

“I had— I had fun last night,” you shyly remark, looking away for a second to compose yourself before looking back at him, a shy smile still lingering.

“That's good to know,” he replies, catching your shyness as it creeps into his demeanor.

A moment passes in silence as you look at each other. He has so many things to say, but no words are spoken. He can see that you're struggling to fathom your thoughts into words too.

“Felix,” you call in a different tone from the way you called him last night, yet it makes his heart flutter the same.

“Yes?” he answers, his heart beating in anticipation.

You open your mouth, but no words come out, then close it again, thinking hard about whether to say it or not.

“You can talk to me,” he assures you, his hand flying to your elbow and gently holding it.

Taking a deep breath, you finally close the distance between you, pressing your lips against his in a quick, unexpected kiss.

The surprise electrifies him, but the briefness leaves him wanting more. He quickly decides it's best to ask for forgiveness later rather than permission. He cups your jaw and leans in for a proper kiss; eventually, his lips meet yours in a kiss that means so much more than that: it's a tender connection that feels just right.

As much as he likes it, he knows he has to let go eventually. He slowly pulls away, only to see a smile blooming on your face, and his lips reflexively follow suit, smiling back at you.

“I hope that’s okay,” he murmurs, but he knows he's not sorry at all for what he did.

You nod, your smile shy yet genuine. "That’s—”

Suddenly, the door swings open, and Rex stumbles in, making a ruckus with her arrival as the keys jangle in her hand and her shoes drop onto the floor, oblivious to the intimate moment unfolding between you two.

“Oh?” she gasps, stopping in her tracks when she finally notices the two of you. Her eyes glance between you and Felix.

“Oh!!!” she exclaims again when she recognizes Felix as the guy you kissed for a dare last night.

Realizing she's interrupted something private, she hurriedly clutches her purse close to her chest and dashes into her bedroom, shouting, “I’m not here!”

The moment is shattered nonetheless, and Felix knows he can't stay here for as long as he wants, not when your roommate is now present.

“I'd better go,” he says, even though he hasn’t planned anything beyond that.

“Okay,” you say in a way that makes you sound defeated.

“Okay,” Felix repeats, hoping you would say something to extend the moment just a bit longer.

But good things often come to an end. Felix shoves his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket and takes a good look at you one last time, imprinting it in the back of his mind.

“It was nice to meet you,” he earnestly says with one hand on the doorknob.

“Me too,” you reply, your smile soft and genuine, lingering in his thoughts even as he steps out of your life.

At least, for now.

-

Here you are again, surrounded by the pulsing energy of the club with Rex and her friends. You’re still the same shy, nerdy girl, yet somehow, you handle the scene better now. It's a familiar chaos, except that tonight, it's harder to ignore Felix’s absence.

Noticing that you're not having fun like everyone else, Rex leans in closer to talk against the loud music playing in the club.

“Are you disappointed that he’s not here?” she asks, her alcohol-tinted breath brushing your ear.

“Why should I be disappointed?” You scoff, trying to mask the truth. But deep down, you are counting every second since you walked in without seeing him.

“You think I didn't know that you’ve been secretly watching the door?" Rex chuckles, almost spitting her drink. "Or the way you get a little excited whenever you spot a blonde guy?"

Guilty as charged. You are caught, but admitting it feels like opening a wound. You tried not to dwell on it, convincing yourself it was just a one-night stand and these feelings... they'll eventually fade, right?

“Don’t worry,” Rex says as she gently squeezes your knee. “He’s probably still on the way.”

“He didn’t even ask for my number, Rex,” you confess, finally voicing the disappointment that has been gnawing at you ever since that day.

“Then fuck him!” she exclaims, fierce as always. “There are plenty of cute guys, and I'm sure we can find one tonight.”

"No, thank you," you flatly reject the offer.

"Why not?" Rex asks, her eyes studying you.

You scoff again, but inside, the truth lingers: you're still hung up on him.

“Because you’ve already drunk too much," you choose to lie instead, taking her drink from her hand.

Suddenly, someone enters the booth, and you recognize him instantly, even with his bleached hair slicked back. Your heart leaps at the sight of Felix. He looks just as perfect as you remember, but doubt creeps in. Does he remember that night as vividly as you do?

He stands across the table, drink in hand, smiling at you, but you manage a polite smile back, not wanting to set yourself up for another disappointment.

“How about a round of ‘Never Have I Ever’?” he suggests out of the blue, his deep voice drawing everyone’s attention.

"Yes, let's do that!" Rex enthusiastically responds while raising her drink higher in front of her.

Felix trails the rim of his glass with his tattooed finger as he thinks of something, and a while later, his eyes fiercely stare at you with a sly smile dancing on his face.

“Never have I ever... made out with a guy in a dark alley, bumped my head on a crate, gotten three stitches, and still proceeded to give him a night he can’t forget?”

A rush of warmth washes over you, either from his eyes that don’t stray away from yours even for a second or the fact that he still remembers everything. You smile nonetheless, feeling the flutter in your chest returning.

Everyone goes silent, glancing around, unsure who might have done that, except for Rex, who squeals next to you like a giddy child.

“I have,” you confidently say, out loud with a proud smile.

You take the drink from Rex’s hand and drink it in one go, wincing at the bitter aftertaste but recovering quickly.

You daringly stare back into his eyes as you take the next turn. “Never have I ever regretted not asking someone for their number?”

“I have,” he replies without missing a beat and downs his shot in one gulp.

Felix places the empty glass on the table, walks over to you, and holds his hand out to you. “Now, I dare you to come with me.”

It isn't a dare when it's exactly what you want; it's a wish come true. You take his inked hand, feeling the warmth radiate from his skin, and let him lead you away from the table and into the night.

In the dark alley where it all started, Felix pulls you close until your bodies collide, wrapping his arms around you. Impatiently, he kisses you hard and deep, full of longing.

The kiss is intoxicating, even better than you remember, and as he steers you away from the crates lining the alley to avoid any mishaps, you softly laugh.

Felix leans his back against the brick wall and holds you close, his face lingering only inches away from yours, breath mingling in the cool night air.

“Let’s avoid visiting the hospital tonight,” he playfully says.

In that dark alley, with the world falling away around you, you realize you don’t want this to ever end. You lean in, capturing his lips once more, and you melt into the kiss, bracing yourself for what you're about to ask and the answer you'll get.

“So, what now?” you ask, your fingers caressing his cheek, tracing the contours of his face.

“We can start by finishing the poem,” he says, a playful glint filling his eyes, reminding you of the lines you have barely gotten through that night.

You grin as the weight of the time you spent worrying about not seeing him again lifts off your shoulders. “Okay, but I think I need a new beginning for this one.”

This time, you know what you want, and what you want is more nights like this, more moments, and more of whatever this is between you and him, and that’s the only dare you're doing tonight: to find out what that is.

-

“(i do not know what it is about you that closes and opens; only something in me understands the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses) nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands.”

-

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[noonslullabies]

*playing Unicorn Overlord*

God, I love this cast of characters and the incredible voice actors. Everyone sounds like they're having so much fun and the script was given good old medieval vibes.

I'll ramble in the tags now.

(I'm on the hunt for the collector's edition now to which I've never done before, and the official artbook is coming out in October 🎉🎉🎉)

[arolesbianism]

If I ever do get properly into dst character modding I like have to make an oni character mod at some point, but the issue is Id want it to be an Olivia mod so bad but also Nails is as far as I'm aware the only legal character name wise and as such it feels like it has to be them, y'know for the bit. But also I have already written too much Olivia dst dialogue and I need an excuse to use it damnit

[hoshigray]

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐲 𝐃𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧 𝐍𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐛𝐨𝐫! | fushiguro tōji

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Not only are you drunk on a Friday night, but you’re a drunk, closeted succubus who is, unfortunately, under the care of the hot neighbor under your roof! Would you ruin the mood if he found out about your little secret? You don’t even wanna know!

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Toji x afab/fem! succubus reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern au! reader + Toji are neighbors - age difference; reader is in late-20s + Toji is mid/late 40s - crushing/mutual pining - drug/alcohol usage - fingering (f! receiving) - oral (f! + m! receiving) - clitoral play (swiping) - Daddy kink - sqǔitïng - anal play (m! receiving) - 69 + backshots + spooning + cowgirl positions - unprotected sex (psa: wrap it up, or get tf up) - creampies - praise kink - pet names (baby, doll, dollface, good girl, mama, princess, sweetie) - implied marathon sex - mention of drool/spit, tears, and cum - not proofread; will do l8r.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.8k

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: pulled this story out of my ass; I literally spent a whole single DAY dedicating to writing it. please enjoy, and tysm for 11.9k loveliesss ☆ love and appreciate u all !!

“…shit.”

There’s no way.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit—”

Of all days for this to happen.

“Oh, my fucking God, not tonight!!”

Tonight was already an eventful night, with the full moon shining brighter than the stars. Life has put you so fast in a whirlwind that you can’t recall the last time you permitted your body to unwind. Can you blame yourself, though? From moving to a new neighborhood and scoring a new job, things have kept you undeniably busy for the past few months. And not too mention,  it’s your fault for being a bit of a hermit and lacking a drive for social interaction. 

That’s precisely why your old college besties – Shoko, Utahime, and Yuki – pulled you out of your hideyhole and encouraged you to join them this Friday night to have some fun! “C’mo~n, lighten up! No more thinking about work or whatever; have some fun!” “Yeah, y’know you’re my biggest drinking buddy. Now, hurry up and share this cocktail with me!” The ladies pressure you to relax and enjoy the start of the weekend with some good drinks and delicious food. And, you hate to admit, it worked like a charm – the longer the hours went, the more you felt free as if all the weight holding you down had been lifted.

The only problem is, like all good things, that it had to end and that you had to go home. Now check this out: 1) you left your car at home because, again, you were rigorously dragged out of your abode by your college companions. 2) You were all pretty much drunk, enough for neither one of you to drive on the road. And 3) you guys are in the city, and catching a lift is not only a gamble but SUPER expensive! Guess that’s what you get for choosing a Friday night to free-ball.

However, when hope was lost, and you wouldn’t be in the comfort of your bed tonight, you received a text on your phone, and you could practically hear the angels sing in the heavens above!

Recent Message from: Neighbor Fushiguro

Yo. You home? I’m out in the city picking up stuff for the house. Need anything?

Thank God for neighbors, am I right? The chances of someone you know being within the same vicinity of you may be low, but never zero! Did you feel bad that you texted back saying you needed a ride back to your house? Sure. Did you feel extra bad when you asked a huge favor for him to drop your friends off at the nearest hotel? …Yeah. 

But luckily, he didn’t seem to mind. The only thing you had to endure was him teasing you about your little outing (with the help of your friends in the back of his truck) and your tipsy persona. “Never took you fr’ one who drinks.” He scoffs while putting you down on your couch after slinging you over his shoulder because you complained about your feet hurting. Damn heels! “Neither one who gets drunk.”

“It wasn’t my fauuu~lt,” you whine with a significant stretch while your neighbor roams around. “My fwiends, they forced me to–hic–to do it…”

“Mm, do your ‘fwiends’ always push you over to do things?” He shouts from the kitchen; you can hear cabinets opening and closing. 

“When you’re the youngest of the group, they do.”

“Well, maybe I gotta get to know ‘em so they can push you into goin’ out more. And maybe you can quit avoidin’ me when I invite you over.”

“I don’t try to avoid you!” You sprout defensively. “And quit teasing me, Toji! You’re supposed’ta be on my side; I’m the victim here.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever ya say.” Heavy footsteps draw nearer to where you are, and your heavy eyelids open to see a hand stretching towards you with a glass of water. “I’m here takin’ care of ya now, aren’t I, lil’ victim?”

A smile pulls your lips as you take the glass. “Thank you,” you express before a sip, and your neighbor lifts your feet to sit on the cushion beside you. 

“Y’re welcome,” he places your legs on his lap, grabbing the remote to turn on the television. 

You haven’t been in this neighborhood long enough to say you have friends. Don’t get it wrong; everyone you contacted has been lovely and friendly, and some have opted to help with your move! But aside from the casual greetings in the morning or the nods of acknowledgment, you barely know people who scratch the surface of acquaintanceship. Not to mention, it’s your fault for being a bit of a hermit. 

…But, there is one neighbor you could say you’re pretty close with. Someone nice. Someone dependable…Someone attractive that you’re on a mission not to stare too much.

Toji Fushiguro lives two houses down from you across the street. Remember I mentioned you had people assist with your move? This widowed, middle-aged man was one of the nice handymen who aided you and your friends with your boxes and heavy furniture. You remember it like yesterday, seeing this brawny man stroll up your driveway on the sunniest day of June. You nearly mistook him for an Olympic athlete. 

“So, y’re the one movin’ ‘round here?” The calm baritone of his voice was unforced. “Nice to know there’s a cute face on the newbie. Need any help?” It’s how he asked – so sultry and alluring you almost spaced out before nodding absentmindedly to his request for aid, hoping he didn’t notice you watch how the scar of his lip moved as he spoke. “Welcome to the neighb’rhood, kid.” Rarely do you have butterflies running amok in the pits of your guts, but they were challenging to deal with that day. 

And it doesn’t get any better from that day forward. No matter how hard you wished not to run into this immediate crush of yours, he would somehow wheedle his way into your path. It started slow, exchanging hellos or good mornings whenever he left for work or you took the garbage out. Then came the “Want me to do y’r lawn fr’ ya?” or the “House down the street’s havin’ a little barbecue, wanna get to know people?” You thought moving away from the busy city life would die things down. However, Toji making your head race every chance he gets wasn’t a move you could envisage. Think about how you felt the day he asked for your number to keep in contact “fr’ emergencies…or if ya need anythin’, shoot me a call,” how your heart jumped to your throat! Oh, the girls never stopped teasing you when you told…

Nonetheless, you can’t deny how much help he’s been. Well, outside of that, just being a great neighbor all around. Besides being an absolute succor, he’s an outlet you can come to for anything. Whether for the house, the community, or just personal conversations, Toji’s someone you can admitlingly say you’d depend on. With trust built from day one, sharing pieces of yourselves to break down barriers, it’s safe to say that he is undoubtedly a friend who made your decision to move a worthy risk.

…Yet, what’s even more risky is being alone with him, something you do everything you can to avoid. Why? Look at him! Would you trust yourself to be anywhere with this man alone? Of course not! This is why tonight is the riskiest night you’ve ever bestowed upon your drunk self.

“You got somthin’ to say?”

“Huh?” You perk to reality, anxiousness filling you once you realize you had been staring at the man. “N-No, I’m sorry.”

He stifles a snort, grabbing your feet to massage them from the pain. “Oh, wanna act quiet. You were all bubbly in the passenger seat with y’re friends. Now y’re all shy because y’re stuck with me, huh?”

“T-That’s not true!” A lie; he was right on the mark. Your heart has been beating nonstop once he sat next to you. “It’s just that…I’m sorry for making you drive and pick me and the girls up.”

“Nah, don’t apologize,” his focus is on your feet as he kneads and rubs the sole of your foot. “Told ya I was around the area doing some shoppin’, so pickin’ ya up on my way back was easy.”

You take another sip of your water. ���Shopping?” 

“Mm, my kids are down here for the weekend, so I had to go out fr’ a bit and grab shit fr’ my daughter.” Ah, yes, Toji is a father; you remember him telling you about his two children in college, a junior and a sophomore. “They’re at the house right now; saw ‘em after I dropped stuff at the house before bringin’ ya home.” 

You hum. “Sorry for stealin’ you from them for a bit.”

He shakes his head with a humorless laugh. “Please, they probably don’t even know I’m gone. They’re big kids. Plus,” your breath hitches when emerald eyes trail to you. “Now I get to finally have you all to myself, no curvin’ me and whatever this time.” 

“I’m not tryin’ to curve…”

“Yeah, yeah.” He goes back to massaging your feet.

“…Thanks again, Toji. I really appreciate it.”

“No problem, sweetheart.” Your abdomen flexes at the use of the nickname. “You know I always got you…Say, did you hit y’r head somewhere?”

You blink, eyebrows furrow. “No? Why?”

He points to his temple. “Because I see like a lump right here.”

You mirror his movements, your hand touching the spot he’s pointing. And your fingertips meet with a lump on a location that sparks too much familiarity. You gasp aloud and cover the lump with your hand, the other covering your other temple. 

Oh, no.

Black eyebrows knit together. “You okay?”

Play it cool! “Y-Yeah, yeah, I’m fine! You’re right; I probably hit my head somewhere while out.” You take this time to remove your legs off the comfort of Toji’s lap and stand up from the couch. “I’ll put something on it to stop the swelling.” You can also sense something aching down your lower back at that moment. Oh, hell no!!

“Ya sure? Need me fr’ any—“ 

BZZZZ!! BZZZZ!!

Toji’s cut off from the vibration of his phone in his jeans, pulling the device out to see that someone called “Megumi” was calling. Good, a distraction!

“N–No, no, I’m good from here.” You say through gritted teeth, the alcohol taking effect and making your stance a little buzzy to uphold. “J-Just stay here, I’ll be back!” You don’t even wait for his approval, turning on your heel and heading out of the living room to the stairs. Your body feels wobbly with every step you take, but you don’t pay it any mind because you can feel the lumps beneath your palms increasing. “God, please, not now, not today…!”

You march as fast as you can to your bedroom, nearly stumbling on the floor as you haul ass to your bathroom door. You do a terrible job watching your footing fall after rushing to turn the lights on, and stuff from the counter falls because of the impact. But you didn’t care, shuffling up so you could look at the mirror. And the sight you see fills you with immediate dread.

Horns are the first thing you see from either side of your head; the tips curl as if to form a crown but point to the ceiling. Your eyes are no longer human-like, pupils shaped like slits as if morphing into a reptile. And your ears get horizontally pointier.  “…shit.”

You then lift your skirt and tear a hole in your pantyhose above the hem of your panties, and your fear quadruples at the sight of something long and slithery protruding out of the hole. A long tail with a pointy end; you lose your mind. “Shit, shit, shit, shit—”

It’s then you realize why this is happening: you had forgotten to take your daily supplements that are meant to subjugate these features of yourself. You’ve been taking them for the longest time before you moved into this neighborhood, so you’re used to your typical human facade. Now, seeing these parts of yourselves is the very LAST thing you need right now! 

And then something hits you, an unsettling feeling that you’re too scared to confirm. Your eyes travel down to your shirt, your hands hesitantly pulling the bottom tucked into your skirt and lifting to reveal your navel. You then tug the top of your skirt to expose a spot you’re honed in on the mirror. And the urge to scream grows tenfold once you see a black marking on the lower part of your belly. 

A womb tattoo!?!? 

“Oh, my fucking God, not tonight!!”

“YO, HEY!” And just when it couldn’t get worse, you hear Toji coming up the stairs and beelining for your open bedroom door. Wait, no— “I heard screamin’ and a big ‘boom,’ you alright? Where are y—“

Your neighbor stops dead in his tracks once he appears in front of the bathroom opening; his concerned expression shifts to an immediate neutral deadpan. He stares at you, and you stare back at him, the silence so thick you could cut it with a knife. A ring fills your eardrums, dissociating from this entire scene and all its complications.

You want to cry. Maybe scream, throw up, or just straight up die on the spot. 

Because this wasn’t the night for someone to find out you’re a succubus.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“…”

“…”

“…So, what are you?” 

Not even concealing your face in your pillow can hide you from the eventual questions of Toji, who sits idly on the corner of your bed. You cringe internally, never thinking this dilemma would befall you. The point of moving was to turn a new page in your life and leave the past behind with the city. Now, you are shriveling on top of your bed like a moody teenager, and your neighborhood crush is here to witness your depression.

“…What happened to your phone call?”

“It was my kid. I told him to lock the door since I’ll be out a little longer. Don’t try and deflect,” his blunt answer has you descend further to your inner turmoil. “How come I never seen these horns before?”

You sigh heavily; there’s no point in trying to divert now. “…I take supplements that hinder any features of my succubus appearance so I can look like an average human for the rest of the day.”

“Daily?” He sees you nod through his peripheral. “Succubus…the hell’s that?”

“Basically, I’m a demon that…that…” Yeah, no, let’s not finish that. “Never mind.”

“Bullshit. Tell me.” 

“D-Don’t worry about it, it’s not—“

“Look here,” he speaks to you with a stern tone, a hand coming to your waist to shove you a bit. “I went ahead and picked y’re drunk butt up, made sure ya don’t puke up a storm, and now y’re here looking way different from before. The least you could do is explain.”

God, to be lectured by a human – totally humiliating…! “…I’m a demon that gets energy from…se–….sexu, uhh………..sexualactivitywithhumanbeings.”

The silence that trails after your ramble is beyond awkward. 

“Oh.”

…

“Oh.”

God, just kill me right now!

The older man forces a cough. “So, you…have sex every day?” You can practically sense the tiny hint of discomfort from prompting that question.

“W-Well, I used to when I was younger. But I haven’t really…done it in a couple of years.” Jesus Christ, why is it so embarrassing to admit to someone other than yourself? This is the literal worst! 

“Is that bad?”

“It’s, uhh…It can be?” 

“So, why haven’t you done it?”

“Because…!” You snap your face out of your pillow and finally allow yourself to breathe correctly. “I just…I don’t have time like I used to anymore, and using my powers to make people forget afterward can get tiring. Also, the more times I do it, the more my drive gets intense from the last. The desire of a succubus can be dangerous, you know? And since it’s been a while since I’ve let my powers out, I’m sure it’s nastier than ever…”

“…Well,” Toji turns to face you. “Have you ever had the urge recently?”

“I-” Woah. That question came out of nowhere, almost answering it without proper consideration. “Wh–What do you mean by that…”

He shrugs. “Like—you know what I mean—like, even though you try to suppress it, do you still have those urges to do…ya know, it?”

Things get a little uncomfortable here; now you wish you kept your face in that pillow. Tojo’s gaze on you is distinguished — gentle yet stern, matching his demeanor. He's calm and calculating and is waiting for your response to his strangely personal question. 

“I…I, I don’t know.” It was another lie.

“Why’re you lyin’?”

“I’m not…!” Toji clicked his teeth with a face.

“Fine, answer me this then. Have ya ever thought of doin’ it since ya moved here?” 

Yup, this question was far worse than the other. His words echo inside your noggin, bewildered with every syllable relaying. And the widowed man lifts his brow from the lack of an instantaneous answer. You open your mouth, but words fail to aid you, your tail shying away behind your shadow. “I-I…I don’t—“

“Ever thought of me?”

“Toji!” You shout defensively. Sure, it might’ve been out of line to ask. However, it’s the fact that he’s breaking your exterior with every question — because of how on-the-mark he is. You could never prepare yourself for that inquiry, the heat on your face growing more unbearable. How could he know of the frenzy he puts you through just for existing? 

“I’m not dumb.” You peep Toji, turning his torso and facing his entire front in your direction. “You think I don’t notice how often you try to push me off when I invite ya over or know when y’re lookin’ at me when you think I’m not aware’?” He dents the bed with his added weight, and you forget to breathe, watching him inch closer. “Or act all shy and cute when I got you to myself?” 

You gulp, your brain short-circuiting at the feeling of Toji’s palm on your thigh. There have been countless nights where you’ve thought of your neighbor more than once, indulging in fantasies you could never speak of to a soul, especially Toji himself. To let the man know of the dirty things you’d want him to say to you, the names you wish him to call you, the erotic things you’d like him to do to you — death is the only option necessary not to let that happen. Unfortunately, he seems to have a good idea now that he’s cornered you like this, and you��re too stunned to utter a word.

“It’s okay, though,” he whispers low now that he’s close to your face, and you have to hold back on letting out a yelp when his hand comes to hold your face, his index finger toying with your sensitive earlobe. “‘Cuz I love it when y’re all timid, can’t even look me in the face…Like now.”

You try to avert away from him, but his thumb brings your chin back to him. “Toji, please,” his name feels forbidden to say all of a sudden. 

“Tell me ‘no’.” His nose brushes the tip of yours, and you chew your lip. “I’ll stop right now and leave, let you deal with this y’reself…Or,” he ghosts to your ear, and you quiver. “I’ll stay with you and treat you to what y’ve been scared to ask fr’.”

“Toji, wait,” Fuck, you can’t remember the last time you had your ears so keen, his breath brushing it enough to compel you to meltdown.

“Say ‘no,’ princess.” You’re locked under his forest-green orbs, and you swear you could hear your heart hammering your chest. “Or I’ll treat you right tonight.”

Perplexed eyes can’t move anywhere else, and your lips are wet from licking them without knowing. Is this really happening…? An inquisition you had no time to answer for yourself once Toji closes the gap, centimeters nearer with every millisecond.

I…can’t…

His face draws near, and your eyes reflex to close. 

I don’t…want to…

Toji pulls you in for a gentle kiss; your thoughts radio silent after the contact of his scarred lips on yours. No shot. Your neighbor was kissing you right now — there’s no way!? This had to be a dream…! This is truly a wild night: not only are you tipsy to the noggin, but your neighborhood crush has found out your secret, and now you’re kissing that exact crush in your room?? Your muscles go tense at what is occurring. 

He peppers your lips with kisses, forced to catch up with him as he claims your lips, a palm snaking to the back of your head to keep you steady. He licks your bottom lip, chewing gently to prompt the softest gasps out of your mouth. “C’mon, baby,” he coos to your sensitive ears. “Relax wit’ me.” You nearly melt at the lick of your helix as his free hand courses from your chest to your waist. The brush of his fingers onto your tail makes you jolt. 

“Toji, wait,” you mutter under your breath as he nibbles on your pointy ear, your hands gripping the back of his black wife beater. “D-Don’t; I’m so sensi—Nmmm…!” Jesus, the moan you held back! Toji trails his mouth to your chin down to your neck to suck on your skin. And your lower half throbs harder. “Ahhh…hahhh…”

He returns his lips to yours; this time, his tongue runs on your teeth vigorously to seek entry. You submit after a chew to your bottom lip, whimpering as the older man inserts his wet muscle to greet yours. Surreal, isn’t it, to be tongued down by your neighbor? You don’t know whether it’s the alcohol, the twitches between your inner thighs, or the flick of his tongue and the sound of his purrs that have your face getting hotter. 

And fuuuuuuck, he’s such a good kisser — scratch that, he’s an AMAZING kisser! You’re practically turning into putty in the palm of his hands as he lips you, tilting his head to a proper position with a soft push to your face as he deepens the kiss. He sucks on your tongue, and you mewl, helplessly quivering when he teases the muscle with nibbles. Your waist has a mind of its own while it sways involuntarily, rocking as you sink into the zealous kiss. He’s not overpowering you in any way; if anything, he’s so overwhelmingly comforting, his hand caressing your cheek tenderly, and soft noises of lips smacking and breaking apart bounce one after the other.

Then, you shrill unexpectedly. “…!! Mmahhh! T-Tojiii, d-don’t—don’t touch…Haahhh…”

“Oh? Well, lookie here.” Your ears perk at Toji’s chuckle. Unbeknownst to you, distracted by the intense kiss, your neighbor sneaks his hand under your skirt and touches your private zone shielded by your pantyhose, fingers pressing up on your vulva area. “All we did is kiss, and ya already got your panties wet?”

Embarrassed? Of course, it’s been so long since you were touched like this and out of practice. Now, your repressed emotions start to crumble out of their straightened form the more Toji’s middle finger rubs on your panties. And let’s not even mention your thighs motioning to ride on the digit, your dignity starting to disintegrate. “Ohhh, Toji…”

“Mmm? What is it, sweetie?” He nuzzles to your neck after licking and sucking on your chin. “Feelin’ good down there?” He curls his middle and forefinger to push. “Got ya all excited?” He receives a confirmed hum. “Tell me how y’re feelin’.”

You gulped thickly, your breathing shaking. “I-I’m feeling—shit…” he laughs lowly at your swearing. “Nnnm! You’re making me feel…so hot.”

“I can tell, you’re twitchin’ like crazy right on my fingertips.” His fingers move into a circular motion, and your mouth goes agape. “Fuck, man…Hey, hold on, I wanna do somethin’.”

Toji removes his fingers from under your skirt before you can tell, the heat between your legs going tepid as he withdraws from your figure to lay his back on the bed. But before that, he unzips and loosens his jeans to his butt. A noticeable tent of his boxer briefs has your lips locked to each other, and your eyes widen when he subtracts the material. Just when you thought this night couldn’t get any more crazier, you are awake to witness the display of Toji’s erection in real-time. 

How long has it been since you’ve seen a real-life, living, and breathing dick before your eyes? You honestly can’t recall that; the responsibilities of human life have made you grow numb to your demon necessities that it no longer feels innate. However, the sight of your crush’s solid, girthy, excited cock is marveling. How your mouth waters as you ogle at it is borderline humiliating, eyes glued to the uncut tip.

“Like what ya see?” He asks smugly, kicking his jeans and briefs off and slapping his thigh. “C’mere, mama.” Oh, fuck, the quirk of your insides was unavoidable at his comment, primarily as he guides you closer to him. “Let’s warm up.” You yelp as he effortlessly moves your legs to where you straddle him. He pushes your skirt up to your waist, and you can hear the tear from your pantyhose. His thumb comes to slide your panties to the side, and he whistles. “Damn, lookin’ all pretty and wet fr’ me.” 

It’s either the fact that Toj’s dick is inches in front of your face or your bare pussy out in the air in front of him; either one of the two has your mind going in a whirlwind. And it all comes to a standstill the moment you sense something wet and firm glide across your labia, and it takes everything in you not to tremble. “Mmm, oh, fuck,” he groans after licking your cunt, throwing in another lazy one to have you holler. “It’s been so long…Shit.”Toji’s hands curl from your legs to cup your asscheeks, keeping your butt near him to lap his tongue around your chasm. You whine as he licks you down, your teeth clattering at the sensation. 

Oh, my God, your head begins to ache. It feels so good, your body finally coming back to the groove of things as you move your butt around. The man under you quickly latches his mouth onto you, a firm grip on your ass to keep you in place for him to service you. Speaking of service, your eyes flick to the erect limb before you, your mouth salivating with the run of your tongue across your teeth. Fuck, it looks so good; you admire internally before inching your face close to the length, your head getting dizzier from the sheer size and musk. Damnit…I wanna taste him so bad…!!

“Go on, dollface,” Toji gives your butt a playful smack. “I know ya need this bad.” 

God, he’s so right — you need this; there’s no point in denying anymore. You blow on it before placing a tender kiss, noticing how it pulsates as your hand wrings around the shaft. You lick your lips before pecking at the uncircumcised tip, and Toji’s hold on you goes tighter. He’s sensitive, you note. Adorable. You stick your tongue out to swirl around the cockhead, bathing it with your saliva before you inhale it with a delighted hum, gradually warming up your loosened jaw.

Fuck, the taste of a cock — something that felt nostalgic the moment he graced your tastebuds. Your eyes water a bit, trembles rocking your figure as Toji sucks on your wetness, and every inch you intake fuels the haze that fogs your brain. You stroke and suck him simultaneously, a forgotten method that rekindles now in this moment. You coat him with your spit the more you relax your jaw, slurping him unapologetically as if a different part of yourself takes over. 

On the other hand, Toji feels the same way. It’s been way too long for the widowed man since the last time he has been intimate with someone, let alone have a bare ass right in front of him. It’s no secret that he’s had the hots for you once you moved here, but having you on top of him like this is like something out of his wet dreams. The way you murmur cutely as you suck his dick turns him on so bad, a guilty pleasure come true as he drinks your nectar off your damp naked folds. His tongue teases around the entrance of your vagina before pushing it in, fucking your opening with his wet muscle. You cry on his girth, your tail cringing in the air from the stimulation. He spots it and grabs it from the base; how your lower half jolts to the grasp is humorously darling to him. So cute.

The minutes go longer as you two keep pleasing each other, and a soft whimper escapes your lips when you release Toji from your lips, lips plastering long and sweet kisses on his shaft as you massage the tip. Your other hand palms and kneads his ballsack, the jerk of his thighs rewarding to see, so you increase the pace of your hand.

“—Thhh, nmm!” Toji curses from behind, sluggishly licking from clit to your slit while succumbing to your touch and mouth. “Shiiit, just like that, baby, suck me off like t—Mmngh! Christ, I’m gonna..fffuckin’ cum…”

But then, you remove yourself from Toji’s member, the cold air instantly blanketing him. Green eyes blink as you move off of his lying body, observing you bending over with your face to the cold sheets.

“Toji,” you plea to him desperately, hooded eyes shining eagerly. “Please, I need it…Here,” you spread your ass, fully exposing your slit wet from your fluids mixed with his saliva. Jesus, you were heathing as if you were in heat. “Do it here, I need it inside…!”

You had the man shook; the cogs in his mind stopped working briefly. The picture of you presenting yourself like this to him was unexpected, but goddamn, did it turn him on astronomically! Toji stands on his knees and advances to you, removing his tank top and discarding it to the floor. “Yeah? You want it that bad?” You nod impetuously. “Words, sweetie. Need you to tell me what to do.”

“Toji, pleeease…!” You wiggle your ass until he cusps it, kneading your flesh lovingly to the point that your tail curls around his forearm. “Please, put it in, I wanna feel it…!”

“Yeah, is that what my princess wants?” You and Toji bite your lips when he aligns his tip to your inner labia, teasing you with grinding motions. “Does my demon baby want Daddy to mess y’r insides that bad?”

Oh, we’re playing that card, too? Holy shit, you were getting so wet from this! “Yess, Daddy, pleasee! Mess me up with that dick, wanna be filled up right nooww…!”

He can’t hide the proud grin. “Good girl. Here,” Toji begins to push the cockhead to you, and your lips flatten at the wince of pain that accompanies the push. “Stay still, and lemme reward you,” his hips move slowly in your direction, you grip the sheets to prepare yourself, and your nerves are dialed to a plane of exhilaration you can’t regulate. Oh my God, is this happening? He’s gonna fuck me? So many thoughts cloud your mind, too excited and anxious for what’s to come because it’s been so. Damm. Long. How’s it gonna feel? Is your body ready enough? How does Toji feel about this; is he just as nervous as you a—

Your train of thought is brought to an abrupt halt at the sensation of Toji’s tip finally inserting itself into your vagina, too absentminded that your open mouth couldn’t say a word. Oh, fuck it’s in, it’s in! Your eyes widen, your muscles tense, and your voice struggles to cry. The older man continues to add himself leisurely, the length sundering your slit and stretching your opening as you take him inch by inch. Your back arches instinctively, wailing silently as you can feel the foreign limb intruding your tightness, quick quirks of your frame as he rubs your velvety texture. Ohhhh, my God…!!

When he slowly starts to rut into you, recurring waves of rapture hit your nerves every. Single. Time! You’re entire body is rocked to the core with every short yet gentle pound; the feeling of Toji’s veiny cock scrapping your channel has you shivering. And once he’s encouraged to push his entire member until the very hilt, you yelp aloud when the tip kisses your womb. “—Oooh??!”

“—Mmngh!” Your quick spasm surprises Toji. “Ohhh, shit, there it is. Hmm? Is this where ya want me, mama? Want me right…here?” He snaps his hips swiftly, the rushed movement and hit to your cervix knocks you winded. And another, you keep wringing his shaft acutely. “Ahhn, God fucking damn i—Iisshhffuck, fuck, I can’t, gonna…Hnghh!”

Toji’s body shudders above you, bucking into your warmth with a jittery pattern. The prolonged reaction of his orgasm claims him now, succumbing to the silky, tight texture and how well you’re grasping onto his girth. He comes inside you, moaning as he ejaculates earlier than expected. You sense it, humming to the immediate filling. So warm, so full of his cock already that your toes curl. 

And Jesus Christ, it felt so. Fucking, Good! You were no longer drunk from the alcohol; now, you were intoxicated by the prowess and pleasure of Toji’s dick. 

“Hah, haaaah, fuck,” he throws his head back with a hiss, his abdomen relaxing from the earlier flex. Then, your tail glides up from his abs, feeling up on his skin and roaming on his happy trail. He snickers at your feline-like comportment, “Heh, actin’ all cute now that you got what ya wanted, huh?” You say nothing, bashful to his words, while your tail curls up to his chin. “Don’t go quiet on me now, dollface; I heard you squeaking and moanin’ seconds ago.”

Toji then returns to rut into you despite recovering from his climax, furled to have you shrieking uncontrollably for him. The smacks of his pelvis recoil the flesh of your ass, his come stuffed inside you now glued to his erection as he rocks into you balls-deep. “Mmmm, yeah, that’s right, baby,” he grabs your tail and wraps it around his hand to pull; you scream louder, and your vaginal walls clamp tighter than ever. “Arch more fr’ me, enjoy me—nmm…!—fuckin’ you real good.”

The pull of your tail makes your senses hypersensitive, perturbed by the stress of it being pulled, yet the enjoyment you feel from it is too inexorable to comprehend. Coherent sentences double down to undecipherable babbles, “—Daahh, hoohhfuuc—D-Daddyyy, Daddyyy…!!” Tears well up in your eyes as he inflicts blows to your ass, the pain too quick to prepare for yet the sting enough to make you rigid. “—Too much, ish t’oo muuuch…!”

Another smack to your butt, and you howl once again. “Huh, ya say that, but y’re milkin’ my cock like crazy.” He bends down to remove your hands that try to hide your face and horns with the pillow. “What, ya don’t like this? Hmm? Want me to stop?” 

“No, nooo!!” You shook your head immediately; your vision blurred for a few seconds. “I loveee iit, I love this, love Daddy’s diick—Ahaaa!! More…I want moreee!” Fuck, this is bad; any more than this, and you’ll be addicted for sure.

“Good,” he whispers to your ears. Good Lord, you weren’t going to survive. “Because I ain’t done wit’ ya yet, princess.”

Before you can register his sentence fully, Toji straightens and lays on his side behind you, lifting your leg to create a suitable angle. He then plunges into you harder and faster, the different positions helping the sporadic cadence achieve deeper penetration while scraping your upper wall with ease. At this point, your body is too hot and sticky to care about anything else outside this room; your head pounding and too misty, your senses corrupted by the constant pokes to your cervix and the increasing haze that you don’t feel human anymore. Your succubus roots flourish, drool escapes your lips, and wanting nothing but this feeling to remain ceaseless.

“Gahh, ohhhDaddyyy, ahhahh,” eyes roll to your skull at the brush of your sweet spots. “Shhoo good, I fweel shoo gooood…! Harder, hardeeerr!” 

“—Khhck, goin’ as hard as I fuckin’ can!!” Toji kisses your cheek after a lick, chewing on it after hearing you mewl submissively. “Jesus, this pussy, out of this fuckin’—Nnngh…world.”

You turn to him and claim his lips, and he reciprocates into your steamy kiss. Vulgar tongues exchange spit and encroach on each other’s mouth, and you helplessly suck on Toji’s after he shoves it, your puffy lips intaking the attractive noises he makes. And you slither a hand down to your clitoris to swipe erratically while your tail goes around Toji’s waist and curves into the crevice of his ass. Suddenly, Toji stiffens at the pointy end of your tail, tickling his anus, and the raven-haired man gasps at the insertion. Too stunned to speak, he can only move his hips rapidly, his white-ringed shaft digging deep into you with the help of stimulating his prostate. 

“—Taahhh, y-you, lil’ minx…!” He breaks the kiss and bites your lip to hear you whimper. “Tryin’ ta make me cum again?”

You nod, breathing heavily. “Ohhh, Daddy, I’m so close…! Gonna come!”

“Me too, mama, me too…” 

Hot moans and groans fly out of each other’s mouths, bodies stuck to each other as you both chase for release. Everything feels so fast, so hot, happening all at once; all you can think about is the grinding presses you push up on your delicate clit. Fuck, fuck! It’s coming, it’s coming…!”

Then, it arrives. Your cunt, aching for the climax, receives the crescendo you’ve been aching for this entire time. The walls of your vulva contract around Toji’s member, milking and wringing him as you come loose to your grounding. A clear liquid exerts out of your urethra, showering out to stain your panties, torn pantyhose, and bedsheets, your breathing losing its steadiness and falling to a jagged tempo. The same goes for Toji, who falls into his peak along with you; your fluttering folds force him to submit and release his second load into you with a hiss. The older man’s heaving frame keeps bucking into you until every drop fills you to the brim, burrowing his face deep into your neck to rest as the shocks rock you both.

Finally, everything goes quiet. The cozy atmosphere pulls you out of your heightened elevation and lays you down with silent clarity. Both you and Toji, sweaty and sticky all over, are still linked to each other as the high dissipates. Shuddering figures begin to calm down and fall at ease with the tranquility.

Toji kisses your neck, and you croon until he comes to lay his lips on yours for a tender peck, then on your soft cheek and your temple. He then removes his flaccid bulge, white fluids oozing out of your hole. “Damn, that was good,” he mutters breathlessly. “Hmm, how ya feel—“

The onyx-haired man couldn’t finish his question because of the sudden change of positions you abruptly conducted. He now lays on his back with you straddling him; the calm tone switched to an unexpected spiking mood. 

You then hand grab his dick and arrange it back to your raised hips. Viridian orbs widen. Wait. The tip meets your labia once more before you descend it down. What the f—hold on— And then, his cock is swallowed back inside your wetness, and Toji grits his teeth.

 “Sh-Shit, sweetie,” Toji’s hands come to your waist. “What’s up, aren’t y—“

“Sorry, Toji,” the man surveys with confusion, watching you strip off and throw your shirt somewhere. Your naked chest is now out for him to see, and his breath hitches when you place your hands on his pectorals while a span of bat-like wings springs out from your back. “…That wasn’t enough.”

Wasn’t enough?? He repeats with furrowed brows, noticing the half-lidded, lustful expression and the sharp dents of your canines. Then, it hits him: 

“The desire of a succubus can be dangerous, you know? And since it’s been a while since I’ve let my powers out, I’m sure it’s nastier than ever…”

…Oh, shit. “Wait, we can talk about—“ You get your answer once you bounce on his cock without notice, Toji nearly choking on his tongue. Nope, no room for prattling.

“You let out so much, made my mind go so crazy,” you grind your hips on his pelvis, squeezing his limp cock while it gets firmer and firmer. “Feel so good…More, I want moreee…”

“C-C’mon now, baby, can’t we take a break for a minute at least—“You bring your face an inch away from his.

“Daddy,” your neighbor shudders at the gentle kiss you place under his chin. “Please take care of me like you promised, ‘kay?”

Your gaze lured him in, a trap he was foolish enough to fall for. Because now, he’s stuck under your bow as you begin to inflict an inescapable rhythm, rebounding on his erection until the base meets your folds. Choked groans suppressed by Toji, but take his lips with yours, enforcing a loving yet salacious spell with your satisfied moans. Now, your crush realizes you weren’t the meek, adorable neighbor he dotes on. 

Tonight, he was yours to play like a fiddle…And shame on him for getting way more turned on than he should be!

Wow. Guess I’m dyin’ tonight.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

I should be fuckin’ dead right now.

Toji knew something was up when his eyelids opened, and his emerald eyes scanned the ceiling, instantly recognizing that he wasn’t in his master bedroom. The rays of sunshine are blocked from the curtains, yet the light of day crawls in and basks the room in a low glow. Chirps of birds outside greet him on the basking of a new autumn day, lying comfortably in the cold, silky sheets of the bed.

He wakes to a bit of a headache, mentally and physically groggy. Attempts to move are already tricky and aches all over his body keep him grounded in the mattress. Ugh, feel like I’ve lost all feelin’ in my legs; the man can’t even lift one leg without a grimace. And even his arms are challenging, one so oddly heavy as if it’s nailed down. 

“Fuck, man.” His first words of the day are a curse, irritated by the drum of his head. He tries to lift himself; again, it’s not possible, agitating the man even more. And why the fuck is my arm so hea—

He doesn’t finish his sentence — the answer reveals itself once he turns his head to the left. 

He sees you, surprised to view you in your natural form still. Horns have grown a little larger, yet still small enough for you to rest your cheek on his shoulder. You were sound asleep, faint snores picked up by his ears as he examined your face at ease with a peaceful slumber. Nude, the both of you, a hand wrapped around his left arm to stick close to you while the other is stationed at his chest, your bat wings shriveled together to not get damaged. And judging by the snake-ish feeling, your tail was curled around his bare thigh. 

Strangely innocent to see after the events of last night flash into Toji’s recollection, funny to match such a lewd scenario to such a sweet face. He stifles a laugh, placing his right hand on the vulnerable one on him, his thumb caressing your knuckles as he grasps your fingers. Suddenly, some of the soreness he harbors feels light — glad I ain’t dead, I guess.

Your eyes jit behind your eyelids, a soft groan as you suddenly move and scrunch your face. Finally, your drowsy eyes sheepishly flicker open. Lidded gaze fighting the spell of sleep with every bat of your eyes.

“Mornin’, gorgeous.” Toji greets you.

“…”

“…”

In real-time, Toji watches your somnolent morph into a gradual display of mortification. He’s a little envious to see you spring up with no strain on your body, wings batting out of their relaxed state, and your hand still with his. “T-Toji??” You question directly, eyes surveying the nude neighbor in your bed, doing everything in your power to ignore the fact that you’re naked as well. Speaking of, you notice the subtle pink glow of your womb tattoo, and anxiety spikes to a high. “I–uhh–I’m so so sorry for last night! Sorry you had to bring me back home, and I didn’t mean to act weirdly on you with—Ooof?!”

“Relax,” he cuts you off by pulling you back to his lying frame, his left hand now free to snake on your shoulder. “Don’t talk so fast; my head’s poundin’ like crazy.”

You blink aimlessly, awkward now that you’re fully aware you’re in this man’s embrace. You can’t help recalling what transpired last night, suddenly feeling squeamish. “…You okay?”

“I feel like my life’s been drained by my dick,” he answers bluntly, adding more weight to your embarrassment. “Wakin’ up to a pretty face who nearly killed me with their pussy isn’t somethin’ I’d expect.” 

“……sorry.”

“It’s alright,” calloused fingers glide and intertwine with his yours, stroking your thumb with his. “Had a good time either way. Wild, but good.”

“Really…?” 

“Really.” You probably shouldn’t have peered up to see him look your direction. Albeit exhausted, his handsome face and sleepy grin ignite the heat on your cheeks. And your stomach flips, hearing a laugh when you meekly avert your gaze away. “How many times did we do it?”

“…Not sure,” long enough for my womb tattoo to be blatant. 

“Me either. Does that happen often?”

“Sometimes? I guess it’s because I haven’t done it for a long time, so I went…off the rails because of the intensity.”

“Noted, because I never felt so old until now. I probably pulled somethin’.”

“….Sorry.”

“Y’re good,” Toji scoffs before moving to place a soft kiss on your forehead, and your heart skips the tighter his hand holds your hand. “Tell ya what, I can help you with that cycle of yours, probably…twice a month, so it doesn’t get too crazy like last night. And don’t use y’re powers or some shit to make me forget, either. I don’t wan’ that.”

You lift your face from his shoulder, the heat spreading to your ears. “You don’t have to do that, Toji, I wouldn’t—“

“Nah, I’m down; it’s what neighbors for. Besides, it finally gives me a reason to make ya interact with me more.” Again, his smug smirk causes knots in your stomach. “Like the sound of that, mama? Let Daddy take care of you?”

Your lips quiver, and you hide your face back onto his shoulder. The rumble of his laughter worsens the butterflies in your stomach, and your tail squeezes on his thigh. “Don’t say it like that, Toji!”

“Y’r tail seems to like it.”

“Stop it!”

♱ 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header art by tamayura banko + dividers by @cafekitsune.

[chuluoyi]

MARRIED ON PURPOSE

- gojo satoru x reader

"for one, i can show you incredible things!" jujutsu, madness, heaven, sin. the strongest sorcerer is sure to show you all of that during the whole duration of your six-month marriage contract.

genre/warnings: marriage of convenience, enemies to lovers, crack, fluff, slight satosugu angst/comfort, kamo!reader, very suggestive. gojo clan is portrayed as very traditional, meanwhile kamo clan is rather unpleasant here

note: the unholy amount of times i've edited this story *sigh* but okay i must drop it here or else i'm going to keep editing it and losing my mind. despite my misgivings and all, i really had fun writing this and i hope you enjoy it! wc. 5k !

a part of 1K MILESTONE EVENT

general masterlist

Some would say... marrying Gojo Satoru would be living the dream.

“Don't look that sour now, wife.”

“…sigh.”

A playful nudge at your side, a lighthearted voice— “You're going to make them question our veeery happy marriage, you know… We don't want that now, do we?”

But to you, it was more like nightmare dressed in a daydream.

It was peak comedy because why would you put marrying Gojo Satoru in your life plans? He was incorrigible, a child trapped in a man's body, and there was also the very fact that you hate him. His only redeeming trait was being born in the esteemed Gojo clan, and now held the title of the strongest.

You know you must have accumulated karma, but out of everything else, why must you end up in this predicament?

Hailing from the great clans of jujutsu society, both of you know well that marriage is the essence to make the clan greater. And when it involves the big three clans, its importance amplifies even further.

It was just that you two were too rebellious to follow it through, for one reason or another. Everyone knows Gojo Satoru was faithless to any woman, and you were not exactly thrilled with the idea of marriage as a whole.

He was the one who came to you, proposing this insane idea of a temporary marriage.

"Look at it this way," Satoru said with a wry grin, contrasting your puzzled frown on that fateful afternoon. "It's either me or Zen'in Naoya for you, isn't it? It's so clear which is the better man."

That was what grated you the most. You would be damned if you married the misogynist.

"What do you get from this arrangement, really?" you questioned begrudgingly.

His name would give you security, stop the harassment from your clan, and maybe even a better life, but you didn't quite get what he'd get from the offer he willingly extended to you.

Satoru flippantly shrugged. "Nah, you are not exactly my type, but you're still far better than the boring puppet my family have considered to be my wife."

"Who?"

"Don't remember her name. All she goes on about is that she'll be the good wife and mother of my child. Ew."

Seven hells. You scowled. Gojo Satoru and his penchant for chasing the thrill. Boring women would kill him before an actual curse would.

"And hey, for one," he shot you a smirk, visibly smug. "I can show you incredible things!"

"That's not the point! Gojo, do you even realize—" your voice rose, pulsating with righteous fury, "—how serious all of this is? My life, your life! We're going to be stuck—together!"

"Six months," he blurted, tilting his head slightly. His sunglasses slipped down just enough for you to catch a glimpse of his sparkling eyes. "It's enough time to work through our shits, and by then if you have enough, we're through."

At that time, it seemed feasible. Both of you tolerating each other to avoid a much worse match.

. . .

BACK TO PRESENT—barely a week ever since you were paraded around as his wife, now you and Satoru were stiffly poised in the studio in your formal garbs, capturing your official wedding photos.

At that time, it seemed feasible, but now, it felt like a chore, as you realized that conversing with him either spiked your blood pressure so much that you wouldn't even be surprised if you ended up with hypertension or completely sapped your energy that you were left exhausted.

"Come on, show a smiiile," Satoru said in a sing-song voice, gesturing toward the camera as it flashed for the pictures. You were beyond appalled, shooting a glare in his direction.

"I am smiling, Gojo."

"Liar. You're pouting, wifey~"

Sigh… this really is going to be one hella of a ride, huh?

MONTH ONE, and you found out that Gojo Satoru is apparently as mad as people made him out to be.

"You've got to be kidding me!" you fumed, right after he hauled you into one of the rooms in his grand, traditional estate. Your glare pierced through him, a blood vessel ready to burst. "We never agreed on ‘consummating’ the marriage!"

You wrote him a goddamn contract. And the three conditions of this chaotic marriage are: one, it would only last six months; two, no personal feelings involved; and three, nothing borderline disturbing.

And this, you concluded, was the height of what could be called as disturbing.

"We will not," Satoru replied with a hint of disdain, grimacing, as if the notion didn't sit well with him either. The audacity! "We're just going to make it as if we are—"

"And why?! Why should I do that?!"

"Why else? Because my old fart believes that we indeed haven't done so."

"Then it's your fault? For failing to convince him? Why turn it into my problem!"

"Because, dear wife," he drawled, his tone taunting on the final note. "Now we're on the same page, in case you have forgotten."

Great clans and their hollow expectations spare no one, not even Gojo Satoru. They place importance in the most banal things, such as the continuity of sacred bloodlines and such.

The only alternative wasn't appealing either. Should you be found out that you married only to divorce... sigh, you didn't even want to know how big of a scandal it would be. One thing was certain: your clan would chop you to shreds.

You really had no choice, huh?

"Five minutes," you warned, glaring at him. "Make it loud. Make it so that no one wouldn't question this anymore."

Oh and sure he would. As Satoru pulled that shit-eating grin, you were in for another ride. You waited out until several maids were nearby, left the wooden door ajar, and began the show—

His hands wrapped around your waist—the feeling was peculiar, but you ignored it—and you let him pull you near that open door. He snuggled his face on your neck—his hair tickling you in the process, but you ignored that peculiarity again—as he started making suggestive noises. "Mm, you're so pretty, darling."

You could hear those maids gasp in surprise. And to add the flavor, you faked a moan.

This is... kinda fun? A twisted part of you suddenly found satisfaction in fooling the maids. A smile tugged at your lips as you shoved him away, and Satoru eyed you in surprise and irritation.

"Husband, you're... insatiable," you worded languidly, and he immediately caught on your act, grinning. "Anyone can walk by, you know."

"Oh? But that's the point." Satoru's bright blue eyes twinkled with utter mischief, and even you couldn't deny the exhilarating rush. "I want them to know."

And suddenly you got this very brilliant idea. You swiftly moved past him and sent the books and trinkets on his desk flying to the floor, causing questionable noises.

"Oh my!" a girlish voice exclaimed.

"The master! And the lady!"

Satoru shook his head, thoroughly entertained. And you rolled your eyes. Those nosy maids would finally have enough now, and this charade would end—

"What's happening here?"

The old fart. Both you and Satoru grunted in unison. You really thought you would leave it up to the maids to spread the word, but then you were taken by surprise when he wrapped his hands around you and flung the door open, slamming you against it—and damn it hurt!—offering everyone a front-row seat to your charade.

The maids squealed. His grandfather raised a righteous, demanding eyebrow. You wanted to scream.

"Hey, gramps," he greeted jovially, breathless, his grip on you tightening and you felt heat radiating from his palm. "Ah, sorry, opened it by accident—the wife here is feisty, you see."

Your veins felt ready to burst. Was this a part of his plan all along? How would you show your face before your grandfather-in-law now that he had seen this... atrocity?!

"So, yeah, we'll resume our business!" Satoru, the idiot, said it as if it was the most normal thing in the world. "See ya!"

With that the door slammed shut, but oh no, it was not the end.

"Mmmph!?" you protested, unintentionally loud and eyes widening in alarm when Satoru muffled your mouth with his hand.

The rotten bastard! You found it nearly impossible to breathe, shooting daggers at him. "Mmmrgh! Mmmrrgh!"

"Oh... so that boy really does it huh," you heard the elder mutter in thoughtful manner from outside—and you were in disbelief at how trusting he was—before rounding the stunned maids and barked, "What are all you doing here? Go!"

You nearly sagged with relief when Satoru loosened his grip slightly, allowing you to breathe, as his meddlesome grandpa finally stalked away. Done. This horrible act was over! But wait, why did he still had his hand on your mouth?

"That went splendidly!" he snickered, appearing rather pleased with what had unfolded. "Now, if only we work together like this more often—"

This is… my life now, you lamented the reality. The feeling of his calloused hand on you made you feel things, honestly speaking, but another emotion—and impulse—currently overpowered that.

Seething with resentment, you fiercely chomped down on his hand hard, causing him to swear and pull his hand out of you.

"You—you devil! You bit me!"

"Serves you right!"

Okay, he was bad. He was insufferable. But to be frank, sometimes it wasn't all chaos.

And what's more, by MONTH TWO, you realized that being married to Gojo Satoru also comes with several perks.

"Miss, please, you're trespassing—"

You looked at the police with the haughtiest look you could muster, unamused. "Don't you know who I am?"

"No, but it shouldn't—"

"I'm that man's wife," you declared regally, motioning towards a certain tall shuttlecock a few meters away. "Is that not clear enough for you?"

For one, no one can look down on you anymore, because should they try, you have the power to raise your chin high and declare yourself as the wife of the infamous sorcerer. The very moment you did, that nosy police stopped yapping, and let you through.

The cursed boy, Yuta and his classmate had just been trapped inside a barrier a curse user pulled down, and you were assigned to look into this case by the headquarters. As much as it boggled you—because certainly, the strongest sorcerer was enough to investigate this—you still had to do your job.

“What is this?” you asked Satoru, who was observing something far beyond what your measly ordinary eyes could see. “What happened here?”

He turned to you, all with bandaged eyes. “Hmm? Oh, you’re here too?”

“Don't act surprised. Answer my question, Gojo.”

"You’re too uptight, wifey," Satoru's lips curved upwards playfully. He had taken to addressing you with pet names as of late, if anything, only to get a rise out of you. "Isn't it the time for you to start calling me by my given name?"

You let out a weary exhale, exasperated. "I'm serious, did you find anything? Who is behind this?"

"Nah, nothing for you to worry about," Satoru waved his hand dismissively, grinning. "More importantly! Let's head back and have dinner! My treat!"

You weren't that oblivious. You noticed things too.

"What do you want tonight? Sukiyaki? Sushi?" he hummed nonchalantly. "Or shabu-shabu?"

You gave him the stink eye. "Is that all you think about? Food?"

"As a responsible husband, it's my duty to feed my wife, no?"

"News flash: temporary wife."

"But still my wife, regardless. I overheard you earlier. Being Mrs. Gojo is convenient, yeah?"

You ignored how a part of your jolted at the emphasis he placed on that word, grunting. "Nah, it's meh."

Call it a feeling or hypothesis. It was similar to how he treated his students. He always said the dumbest things, but it actually served to make them feel at ease.

Then it occurred to you, could this be actually his attempt to change the subject?

"You can't cheat your way out of this." You shot him a pointed look. "You know something. Tell me."

"Hmmm? And what would I get in return?"

"Don't make this difficult. I'm on this assignment too!"

"Nah, if you call me by my name, I might consider it."

Hah. You should really read a parenting book one of these days. Taking on your husband was more or less the same as facing a kid.

"Satoru," you tested, the name rolling out of your lips far easier than you thought. Somehow, using his given name felt like some sort of a leap of faith.

He stopped right in his tracks, turning to you. His glossy lips quirked into a meaningful smile, and you felt funny.

"Wasn't that difficult, was it?" he winked, and you covered the strange heat creeping onto your face by rolling your eyes and huffed.

Needless to say, he still didn't tell you even a clue. You finally gave up, thinking that if he insisted on not disclosing it, then so be it. You trusted him on this, even as he turned your help away, and you hated admitting it, because, well…

You’d trust him with your life. He knows how to handle this better than anyone.

Being a a woman in Kamo clan is, in fact, not any better than in Zen'in—you're regarded more as a commodity than a human being.

"When will you bear the child of the bearer of Six Eyes?" in your father's eyes, you were but a tool to tie the Gojo at his hip, and your worth probably wasn't even twice of Noritoshi's. You had known he would ask this when he summoned you to Kamo ancestral home, and you weren't that naive—you had asked Satoru to join you too. But your father had insisted him to stay at the foyer, while he dragged you into his chamber.

Just because you had seen it coming didn’t mean you liked it. "Is that all? Do you really make me come here just to ask me that?"

And what came next was like a crack of thunder.

"How insolent!"

You shuddered, hating how his voice still had control over you. You wanted to stay deviant, but you couldn't keep yourself from shaking. You thought you would have to endure this shit just like you did before, until—

"Now, now... That's my wife you're talking to. I'd watch your words, if I were you."

You had never whipped your head so fast.

There stood Gojo Satoru, your husband, in all his glory. He was smiling but it was clear that he was displeased, evident from his cutting remark, and most notably, how he had unveiled his striking cerulean eyes for all to see. Truth to be told, you didn't expect him to barge in here at all.

"Gojo-sama," your father bowed his head, displaying utter respect towards him, contrasting the blatant disrespect he showed towards you just now. Satoru paid him no heed, as took big strides towards you and seized your arm, prompting you to rise to your feet.

"What is this? Why are you yelling at her?" His voice lacked its usual hint of amusement or teasing, sending a chill down your spine.

"Gojo-sama, I apologize for my tone towards my daughter earlier. I was just trying to educate—"

“My wife. She is my wife now, and it would do you better to remember that,” Satoru asserted firmly, putting emphasis in the way he addressed you, his gaze hardening. "She is an adult. There's nothing left for you to educate her." Pausing, he added, "And the way I saw it, you were just unnecessarily rude."

"Gojo-sama, there were just certain things in our clan that—"

"Please, don't call on us again," Satoru interjected decisively with a light yet firm voice. You could swear your heart was somersaulting at the sight of him staring down your natural enemy. "I'm sure you're aware, but your daughter bears my name now, and she will get the respect she is due. I will have a word with anyone who fails to treat her accordingly."

Somehow or another, Satoru whisked you away from that hellhole, your hand tightly clasped in his. Your relieved sigh didn't go unnoticed by him, as he looked back to you.

"Have you gone soft?" he teased, eyeing you with a playful snort. "Did you forget who your husband is? You've got nothing to fear. Not even him."

"Thank you," you murmured. Your heart was still pounding and your mind blanked, rendering you unable to engage in your usual banters.

His clear blue eyes widened a touch, blinking at your display of vulnerability, Then, he wore the most innocent expression, even sporting a silly smirk—the hardness from earlier gone. "I was really cool, huh? Totally made you swoon I bet."

And in MONTH THREE, you realized, as he laced his fingers with yours, as his laughter filled the air, as calmness swelled on your chest, and as you loudly snorted at his remark, that—

You felt warm, so warm, in fact, and maybe—

"Pfft, you wish."

—maybe... being with him isn't so bad after all.

MONTH FOUR, and you finally found out that it was Geto Suguru.

Everyone knew that your husband and the criminal used to be the best of friends. You saw them during your high school days, and heck, you used to think that Geto was the better man.

You could only imagine what he must feel.

. . .

When he got back to your shared house after the whole ordeal—after he ended his best friend with his own hands, Satoru honestly didn't expect that you would be waiting for him.

"You okay?" you asked him, brows furrowed in concern. It was probably one of the very few times you had displayed emotions other than contempt towards him.

It felt strange because he was used to your jabs, and he was not sure what sort of expression he should pull now, because truthfully, now he felt empty. Blank. All he comprehended was that he had killed Suguru, that he was gone, and that was something he must do.

It would be just like any other day if hadn't just committed a murder. On someone he held dear.

"Of course, who do you think I am?" Satoru swiftly replied, sounding smug—or at least tried to. "I'm the strongest. I’m unscat—"

"No, not that." You frowned, meeting his gaze squarely. "After everything."

Satoru struggled to choose how he should react, partly because most of his energy had gone after walking Yuta back and reassuring him earlier, and by default, the two of you should be hellbent on hating each other and wishing for this contract to end soon.

"Aww, are you worried about me?" he quipped with a touch of sarcasm just because he had to, to show you that it wasn't enough to ruffle him.

Because he is still the strongest, even when alone. Especially when he is alone.

You let out a sigh, looking away. "Can't I?"

"Whoa, that's sweet of—"

"Don't fool yourself," you stated in straight-laced manner, meeting his gaze with a composed expression. "You're not okay. You might be Gojo Satoru, but no one will be after doing what you just did."

You might be Gojo Satoru, but no one will be after doing what you just did.

Despite himself, his smile fell, and his chest burns. What is this? Were you sympathizing with him?

Does that mean that you don't see him as the entity... that was the strongest?

Before now, Satoru remembered you as the most uncooperative Kyoto girl he had ever met. Your first meeting in high school sealed your fate as the two of you could hardly get along. You didn't mince words, you didn't take shit from anyone else—heck, sometimes when he thought of you, what came up to mind was an impenetrable diamond.

Which was why he chose you. You were someone he could trust. You were pretty in the eyes and certainly wouldn't bore him either. His reasons were purely based on logic. And after four months with you, Satoru came to a conclusion that you indeed fulfilled all his expectations, if not more.

And he felt comfortable, or dare he say, secure even. He felt like he had gained a friend, who could see past his bravado and wouldn't judge him for it.

"You're..." you sighed, casting a sympathetic glance at him, your forehead slightly creased. At that moment, Satoru couldn't help but think you were incredibly endearing, fretting over him. "...an idiot."

"Heh." I really am, aren't I?

"I never knew him well..." you chose your words carefully, hesitant. "Did you try to convince him, before this?"

He barked a bitter laugh. "I did, we even made a scene in front of freaking KFC," he remarked with a scoff. "He didn't listen to me, until the very end."

You wanted to tell him “You have done everything you could” but the words faltered on your tongue. You couldn't bring yourself to say it when you saw the faint quiver of his lips, the slump of his shoulders—the very sight of a boy grieving the loss of his friend.

Your heart pricked too, somehow, seeing that expression on him. And you once again realized that your silly, exalted husband was just as human as anyone else who made him think he wasn’t.

"And you know what he said in the end?" Satoru's tone was flippant, as if asking the most normal thing around, but carried a trace of grief, evident in the slight drop in his tone if you squinted. "He said he didn't regret it, not even a bit."

"I'm sorry," was all you could manage.

Satoru's smile was lopsided. Now that he had finally accepted it, something inside him finally bleeds, and it freaking hurts. The pain gripped his chest like a swirling inferno.

But then, you boldly clasped his hand in yours, gently tracing soothing circles on its back.

"What?" he peered at you, feeling a ghost of a smile forming.

"Consider this emotional support."

And he chuckled softly. Despite the lingering ache, despite the gloom he was sure he would carry for the rest of his life, he felt the pain was more bearable with you by his side, somewhat.

How?

You blamed it on the alcohol, because it was MONTH FIVE and you were kissing Gojo Satoru, daringly.

"We shouldn't be doing this," you rasped between kisses, breathless, as your own sinful hands plucked the buttons off his shirt. The intoxication might have played a part, but the intense heat coursing through you made it hard to think straight.

Satoru crashed his lips against yours again, consumed by blind lust. "Yeah, we shouldn't," he replied in a rush. His breath was hot as he trailed his lips down your jaw and neck next, savoring the softness of your skin.

You two had attended a banquet for the elite, and you were unbelievably beautiful. Standing by his side as his wife, you drew admiring glances, with everyone marveling at what a remarkable couple you made. The Gojo heir who was born with the legendary Limitless and the Kamo heiress, as lovely as her clan's name was powerful.

His deft hands roamed the curves of your body, exploring every inch of you. The warmth of his hands tickled something inside you as you closed your eyes to sink into this very moment. Next you knew, his bare body was against yours and you were stripped out of your evening dress.

Lust flickered in his honored eyes, as he took in the sight of you in your undergarments.

"You're really pretty, you know," he whispered. The intensity with which his eyes scanned your form made you nearly squirm. "Shame we don't always get along."

"You're one to talk," you retorted, a hint of exasperation in your tone, as you willed all other thoughts away. Thoughts like what comes after this. Thoughts like—

Is it heaven or sin, if you feel both at once?

His thumb tenderly caressed your plush lips, a hint of a smirk on his beautiful face.

He has long been thinking about your body. He was but a man, after all. He just didn't expect that you wanted this too.

There was always this tension, only this time, neither of you could hold it back anymore. Perhaps it was impulse—hell, most certainly it is, but there was another thing, something more that even Gojo Satoru still didn't dare to say out loud.

"Eager, are we?" he taunted when you leaned in, yearning for the touch of his lips on yours again.

You huffed. “Shut up and kiss me.”

A rush of heat flooded your cheeks at the slip of those words. You were about to rectify it, taken aback by your own boldness, but then he drew you close, silencing any further protest with a gentle hush—

"Too late, sweetheart," his husky voice entered your ears, lips curling into the most wicked smile, and you were in a trance. And Satoru was once again convinced, that choosing you as his wife was the rightest thing there was.

If the two of you went with this, then there would be consequences. Things would become more complicated, harder to sort out.

But, he decided, as he captured your lips in another heated kiss, everything else can wait.

MONTH SIX, and you were dreading the day of your divorce.

You brought this upon yourself. Whenever you reminisced about that night, you wanted to smack yourself in the face and bang your head against the nearest wall.

This marriage has a time limit. And you were doing it out of convenience in the first place.

You weren't supposed to… goddammit—fall in love with him.

But what's done is done, there is no going back in time. Awkward exchanges and lingering stares had been gnawing at your insides these days, and you were sure Satoru too must have noticed them too. You two used to be more relaxed with each other, and he'd even flirt with you, but weeks ever since that night of drunken passion, you almost reverted back to your high school personas—ignoring each other.

This was tough. You didn't like this. And more than that, you were faced with a more pressuring matter...

Gojo Satoru, with everything he possessed, could have had any woman he wanted. This arrangement with you was temporary in the first place, soon he would forget you and flit to the next woman.

The thought made your heart ache, because you had involuntarily gave your heart away to him. Siiigh… What a predicament you put yourself into, huh?

With just a month left together, maybe you should just make the best of it.

. . .

If you thought that things were any better with Satoru, then you were sorely wrong because he too, was debating with himself often nowadays.

Days spent with you were fun and fulfilling. You irked expression somehow had made its mark in his heart. You were pretty, fit to be by his side publicly and preferably, behind the closed doors. With you, he didn't feel the need to carry this facade of being strong—he could be a clown tripping over his own trap and you would amuse him with your deadpan expression.

And ever since that night, he was constantly reminded by how soft your skin was against his. It almost drove him crazy now that he was deprived of it.

How was it the last month already? He wasn't ready to let you go yet.

When he got back home later after his class ended and found you in the dinner table setting the food, all he could muster was, "Hey. Haven't eaten?"

You whirled around to face him in surprise. "Oh... you're back. Just about to. Want to join me?"

Of course he would. And yet as the two of you sat down, it was so painfully awkward Satoru felt like he was dying inside.

Why couldn't he pull off a smart line or two? Where did his suaveness go? He was smoother than this, surely, with his colorful history. One night of passion was supposed to enhance the relationship, not to derail it. What happened to you both?

The salt was near his side when you reached to grab it and bumped into his hand. "Uh-oh."

Turning towards you, he found your spooked expression and your adorable eyes widening in surprise. "S-sorry..."

It was just freaking salt! Salt! Why on earth were you apologizing?!

Enough, he thought. This utter madness of being jumpy with each other. He'd start from his side.

Does he want you to keep being his wife even after all this ends? Yes.

Why? All reasons already listed above.

Does this mean he likes you? Apparently and supposedly, yes. Because if it isn't then he doesn't know what this funny feeling driving him mad is.

With that sorted out, then he only had one more thing to confirm. He put down his spoon and crossed his arms together. "Tell me the truth. Do you like living with me?"

His question obviously took you by surprise. "Huh? What brought this on?"

"Just give me an answer."

"You're so pushy," you grumbled, lips pursed, and he felt like you were finally back to your usual dynamics somewhat. Good.

"Sooo, the verdict? Do you enjoy being with me or not?"

Because to him, it was a resounding yes and more.

Ignoring the warmth that surged to your cheeks, you rolled your eyes. "Surprisingly, not bad, yeah," you admitted, mustering the courage to meet his gaze. "You're annoying, an idiot, a bit crazy—"

"Hey!"

"—but eventually you're still... manageable," you added, feeling your face truly start to sizzle. But covered it up by looking down and playing with your fingers as you still had more to go on. "What I want to say is... I'm glad that I agreed to this—with you—because I can’t imagine it with anyone else."

An unfamiliar tingling emotion rushed to his chest as his face too started to heat up, letting your words sink in. Is he blushing? Oh God. He sure is. And so did he feel hella giddy.

Then it’s sealed.

Suddenly he procured a piece of paper from his work uniform and showed it to you. You first saw his lazily scrawled signature before it dawned on you.

The contract. You almost forgot that you made him sign that looming piece of paper. You were almost dismayed, thinking that he would end this right then and there, but then—

“Well, then… I suppose we no longer need this.”

Riiip~

Your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when Gojo Satoru tore out your contract right in front of your face, the most brilliant of his devilish grin adorned his handsome face, as he took off his blindfold to see you far clearly than ever. Heavens, you are cute, he thought.

“Soooo~ seems like you’re stuck with me from now on!”

You gaped, awestruck at the blatant meaning of it all, feeling how your heartbeat started to pick up the pace, when he pulled the rag out of your feet once more by tilting his head to the side, looking at you with a winning smile.

“Let’s start over! What did they say again? Ah, yeah. Here’s to the first day of our lives!”

[evnseokz]

{ ☆ prada jungwon }

pairing: idol! jungwon x f. reader

contents: masturbation, sexting, cum play if you squint, soft-dom! jungwon, needy! reader, p in v, protected sex, kissing, making out, slight overstimulation, aftercare & fluff at the end <33

synopsis: idol jungwon who’s gone most of the night looking absolutely DELICIOUS at the prada event so you send some risky texts because he looks so hot you’re getting turned on. this leads to him coming home and fucking you.

i enjoyed writing this i hope you guys enjoy reading it ^_^ (w.c. 1.7k)

you and jungwon had been together for awhile now, so you were used to his hectic schedule and him being gone late at night or all night long. this doesn’t mean it sucked any less having him away from you so often. jungwon had only been home for two days before he had to turn around and spend practically all day at some prada event. it was nearing 10pm and jungwon had already been gone for hours. you kept seeing photos of him popping up on your feed and he looked so good.

his hair has been styled in an edward cullen esque fashion, exposed forehead and hair quiffed messily. a sleek black turtleneck sitting snug on his toned body, the sleeves rolled up exposing his forearms. black slacks and belt to match. he looked so fucking hot. and he was out having fun, looking so good, and here you were sitting in your shared bed chewing on your lip as you watched clips of your boyfriend walking around the prada store. there was one video in particular you couldn’t take your eyes away from, a short five second video that had your thighs clenching and heat starting to pool between your legs. he was just trying on some sunglasses, something completely innocent but he looked. so. damn. good. and in this moment all you wanted was his cock nestled inside of you as he fucked you silly.

with your phone in one hand, your free hand falls to the waistband of your shorts, dipping inside to apply pressure to your clothed heat. you hum lightly at the feeling, bringing your hand back up to slip past your underwear and directly onto your heat. you start moving your fingers slowly, paying extra attention to your clit. quiet moans start slipping past your lips and you begin to crave more. you remove your hand from your bottoms just long enough to shimmy them down and off of your legs. you spread your legs wider, not being constricted by the fabric of your shorts anymore. your hand dips back down, fingers circling over your drenched hole, you slide one finger in, slowly pumping it in and out of yourself, moans starting to pick up in volume as you imagine your boyfriends fingers in place of yours. your eyes are squeezed shut as your finger move’s expertly in and out of you. you add in a second finger, the stretch feeling so good but still not as good as when it’s your boyfriends fingers instead. your body begins to shudder every so often, your high getting close. you decide to remove your fingers from your hole, and move them up to your aching clit. rubbing circles as your whole body begins to shake, moans tumbling out of your mouth as your orgasm hits. your fingers begin to slow down as you ride out your high, still panting from the initial hit.

as your orgasm finishes, an idea pops into your head. you grab your phone off the bed, it sitting face down next to you as it had fallen from your hand at some point. you open your messages app and pull up jungwons contact. you press the camera icon, opening up the application. you take your other hand a slide it up your heat, collecting your juices. your body jolts slightly, still sensitive from your previous orgasm. you angle the phone to where you can see your bottom half in the screen, fingers resting on your mound. you hit the record button, showing off your shiny, wet pussy. then spending some time showing off your slick that’s on your fingers, slightly separating them to see a string of slick attached between the two. you angle to phone up to your face, bringing your other hand up at the same time. and you place your fingers in your mouth suckling on them slightly, then removing them with a pop. you press end video, watching your masterpiece before sending it to jungwon.

y/n: [attachment: 1 video]

y/n: i need you so badly right now wonie

you send an extra message with it, anxiety and excitement coursing through your veins as you watch the screen intently. waiting for his response. your eyes scan the screen nervously, finally seeing the small words “read 10:12pm” appear underneath your message. you chew on your lip nervously awaiting his response. you see three dots pop up indicating he is typing, then they go away, and for a moment, nothing. they finally pop up again after what feels like an eternity, and a message follows shortly there after.

won: i’ll be there shortly.

heat rises to your cheeks as you read the message. you weren’t expecting him to drop everything to come back home just because of your message. you lock your phone and wait in anticipation. about 20 minutes go by, and you finally hear the front door unlocking, opening and then closing. you feel as though all your senses are heightened. hearing every small noise made and feeling every vibration in the house. you see your boyfriends shadow appear at the door, causing you to look up and see him standing there, leaning against the doorframe. looking even sexier than he did in the videos.

“you could’ve gotten me in trouble y/n, what if my manager or one of the members had seen that?” he starts off with a light scolding before making his way over to you. your lip finds its way back under your teeth as you analyze his every move. you’re still sitting against the headboard, pantless, knees tucked to your chest slightly. he stops in front of you, towering over your sitting figure, and grabs your chin forcing you to look up at him. he takes your bottom lip under his thumb, pulling it from between your teeth, before lightly swiping it across the skin of your lip. he moves his hand to your cheek, caressing it slightly as you lean into his touch. “you’re so responsive, you really are needy for me huh?” he says. you nod eagerly, he leans down connecting his lips to yours in a kiss.

the kiss started off slow but picked up fairly quickly. before you knew it, your tongues were fighting for dominance and jungwon was leaning over top of you, at some point you ending up on your back. he broke from the kiss to trail kisses down your neck and the exposed parts of your collar bones. his fingers make their way to the hem of your shirt, “lets take this off yeah?” he says, you give him a nod, allowing him to remove your shirt from your body. his eyes immediately raking over your bare chest. “no bra? you planned this didn’t you?” he chuckles slightly. the hardness to his voice sending shockwaves straight to your core. “i-i didn’t… you just looked so good tonight won” you reply. he shakes his head at you, still chuckling slightly. he leans up off of you to rid himself of his own clothes. you rake your eyes down his entire body, mouth watering slightly at the sight of his hard cock.

he digs through the drawer of the nightstand to pull out a condom. quickly opening it and sliding it on his length. “i assume i don’t need to prep you as it seems you already did that yourself” he raises his eyebrow at you, and you nod shyly, heat rushing to you cheeks. he leans back over you, aligning his cock with your entrance, and slowly pushing inside you. you moan loudly, the feeling of him stretching you being absolutely euphoric. he groans slightly at the feeling of his cock being squeezed so well by your tight cunt. eyes squeezing shut as his head rolls back before coming around to face you again. his arms are planted on either side of you, your hands gripping his biceps, nails digging in slightly as he starts to move.

his thrusts pick up speed fairly quickly, and pretty soon you both are a moaning mess. jungwon taking time to lean down and kiss you ever so often, whispering praises in your ear about how well you’re taking him. his head falls into the crook of your neck, your arms wrapped around him as you hold him close. he’s still fucking into your cunt, his pace never faltering. he feels you start clenching around him signaling that your getting close, he brings his head up from your neck to pepper kisses on your face, before landing on your lips. he kisses you passionately, one of his hands traveling down to your heat, and rubbing circles on your clit as he thrusts into you. you moan into the kiss, panting ever so slightly at the same time.

you feel your muscles begin to tighten and everything starts to feel too good, and before you know it your orgasm comes crashing down on you. legs shaking, and moans spilling past your lips. jungwon continues to thrust into you, chasing his own high while helping you ride out yours. you begin to feel overstimulated as his thrusts get sloppier, his own high about to hit. “s’ t-too much wonie” you cry out, fingers raking down his back. “be a good girl and take it” he says back to you. his hips finally start to stutter as he cums, his seed filling up the condom. his thrusts finally slow, and you can finally catch your breath. his pulls his cock out of you, and you whine at the loss of fullness, clenching around nothing.

jungwon peels the condom off, tying it before throwing it away. he throws his underwear back on and goes to the bathroom briefly enough to grab a towel. he makes his way back over to you, sitting next to you on the bed, parting your legs enough to clean up the mess you guys had made. your body shudders slightly, sensitivity still evident. he tosses the towel into the hamper, and opens a drawer to your dresser, grabbing you a fresh pair of underwear. he slides them onto you, grabbing your shirt and shorts, and putting them onto you next. he climbs back into the bed next to you, laying down and wrapping his arms around your waist, holding you close as you nestle your head into his chest. he caresses your head, placing a chaste kiss to your forehead.

“thank you for coming home for me wonie” you smile up at him. he smiles back, tucking a stray hair behind your ear. “you’re welcome sweetheart, this was way better than that after party anyways.”

.

.

.

[whateverloomis]

Kinktober week one: Hate sex (Billy Loomis x AFAB reader) 🎃

Here's the first drabble for the first week of kinktober. This was really fun to write and I'm definitely going to include some of this vibe in future fics. Hope you enjoy babes! 💋🎃

Warnings: Hate sex, jealousy, insults (use of slut,) oral (reader receiving,) rough sex, pinning, hair pulling, scratching, AFAB reader, unedited

Masterlist

It started with him having a jealousy fit over some guy talking to you. Then, you ended up having arguments the whole week.

You hated how controlling Billy could be especially because you guys weren't even dating. He didn't have the right to be that way with you, however it was also somewhat attractive and it low-key boosted your ego too. That's why tonight you decided to rile him up by telling him about Steve Orth and his grabby hands during science class. How he grabbed your thigh after you pushed his hand away several times. You were angry, turned on and agitated. Both of you were.

"You could've moved to another chair but instead decided to stay there and get touched by someone else like a slut." Billy said, losing his temper slowly.

You rolled your eyes and scoffed in disbelief; "I don't know why you're so mad, we're not even dating," you replied and he lifted an eyebrow.

Billy took a deep breath and let out a sarcastic laugh; "YN, you know we're much more than just friends. You know our relationship is the only one that matters to me and all I get is you letting that asshole grope you in class? Hm? How am I supposed to feel, YN?!"

He lost it.

"Shut the fuck up Billy, you don't own me! I can do whatever I want;" you replied and he walked towards you, grabbing your face with his large hand, his eyes darker than usual.

"I do own you," he answered and you laughed sarcastically. Disbelief evident on your face.

That's why you found yourself with your head pushed against the mattress on all fours as Billy pounded you from behind.

He had eaten you out before like it was the only meal he had that day. Billy bit and sucked on your thighs before practically making out with your pussy, alternating between both actions until you came and had 2 mini orgasms right after as he over stimulated you.

After that he forcefully turned you around and sunk his thick cock inside you, pinning you down.

Billy pulled your hair occasionally and made you look forward before pushing your head against the pillow once again.

"This is what you get after being a slut this week," he exaggerated, his tone aggressive and assertive. It drove you crazy and you hated that you loved it.

All you could do was grab the pillow and whimper pathetically.

That's until you turned you guys around and rode him. You pulled Billy's hair and scratched his chest which made him groan in pleasure.

He occasionally spanked you and other times grabbed your face harshly, making you look right into his dark eyes which were filled with rage. Jealousy.

Billy thrust up into you and hit the most sensitive spot inside you which made you scream and moan pathetically.

"Shut the fuck up," he said harshly before pushing 2 fingers inside your mouth, reaching your throat which made you gag just a little.

You were in pure bliss as Billy fucked the soul out of you.

After a few more thrusts and humiliating words you came all over his cock followed by him filling you up with his seed.

Billy pulled out and moved you to the side, standing up and locking himself in the bathroom, slamming the door loudly. He was still angry and you were left on the bed, leaking between your legs and panting. You knew damn well he wasn't done with you.

[celestiamour]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ pretty tipsy ]❜

ft. logan howlett x f! reader — xmen, marvel

╰₊✧ he brings you home after a night out drinking┊2.5k words

setting: deadpool & wolverine (2024) worst! logan contains: alcohol & intoxication, this man is WHIPPED, age & size difference, emotional drunk human reader, ooc? calling him kitty

➤ author's note: idk what this is but it’s my longest logan piece yet because i have yet to write any more than a thousand words for him

tonight was one of the few nights logan could finally have some alone time. wade was going out for drinks with vanessa with the plan to stay over at her place, the ever so mysterious blind al was off doing her own thing, and mary puppins was resting peacefully in her little bed, tuckered out after a long day of playtime. he could finally get some long-awaited peace and quiet, a moment to himself to relax and breathe. while he’s grateful for the presence of others since he arrived in this dimension, he’s still a lone wolf at heart who treasures his privacy above all else.

humming a little tune from the eighties, he sunk into the beat-up leather couch with a beer in one hand and a lit cigar in the other, taking a long drag on it and preparing himself for a relaxing evening until his flip phone started ringing. when he opened it up to read the “wade wilson” contact name staring back at him, he rolled his eyes with a groan before answering.

“what the fuck do you want?”

“not even a ‘hello?’ damn bitch, okay then— well, we ran into some friends and had some drinks together, but one of them is pretty shit-faced right now and her phone is dead, could you pretty please with sugar on top come and pick her up?”

“the fuck? that’s not my problem, just call her an uber—” he stopped mid-sentence when he heard a familiar giggle in the background, one asking a different partygoer to have another drink with her, “is that the neighbor who lives at the end of the hallway?”

“yeah, it’s your little crush~! you recognize her from just her voice over the phone, oh my god, you have it bad wolfie!! well, if you don’t wanna come, then fine, whatever, but you know, it’s not unsafe for a pretty lady to be alone this late at night! some guy might just swoop her up, actually, there’s some guy asking for her number right now—”

“alright, alright, i’m coming! send me the address.” he nearly shouted into the receiver, putting out his cigar on the ashtray atop the coffee table and slipping on his jacket to leave the comfort of his shared apartment.

the night was chilly in comparison to the cozy warmth of the indoors and the bar was filled with loud chattering and cheers, the clinking of glasses, yelling at the game being televised, and the general buzz of extroverted fun on a weekend night. 

“ayyy, there he is! come here, peanut, sit, sit, sit, have a drink with us!”

logan hesitated, not because he would ever shy away from free booze but because he was here on a mission with one sole goal in mind (and because he wasn’t familiar with this particular group of people, he didn’t feel like socializing tonight) “no, it’s fine, i’m just here to take her home.” his voice was uncharacteristically mellow, finding you napping on the table with your arms folded to be a makeshift cushion for your head. 

you peeked at the man coming up next to you and your face changed from exhausted to ecstatic to upset in the span of a few seconds, “looggann!! how are you doing, i feel like i haven’t seen you in foreverr— how come every time i see you in the hall, you always run off, are you avoiding me? did i do something wrong?” you cling onto his hand and shake his arm, paying no attention to your friends giggling at your behavior in the background, pouting and tearing up. 

oh god, you’re an emotional drunk, that’s so cute. neither he nor wade could get drunk at all on account of their systems constantly cleaning out the effects of the alcohol as soon as it’s consumed, but when he drinks around others, it’s a trait he typically finds so annoying quickly becoming so endearing when worn by you.

“i’m not avoiding you, you haven’t done anything wrong,” he consoled in the most gentle voice a wolverine could muster, also cringing at the fact that he wasn’t half as discreet as he thought he was. it’s true, he has been avoiding you, but only because he couldn’t stand the way you made him feel, smoothing out the rough edges of his personality and making him feel stupid butterflies he was far too old to be feeling, not to mention the nonstop teasing from everyone else when they noticed the way he seemed to look at you from afar. it was as if he was a child who thought hiding from it would make it go away, but it has become apparent it has only grown stronger.

“you’re telling the truth?” you sniffled.

“yes, i am. come on, bub, let’s get you outta here. i’m here to take you home.”

you didn’t protest or try to convince him you weren’t wasted, knowing your limit had been reached, and slowly picked up your things to follow him out of the building. he allowed you to intertwine your arm with his, providing support to your unbalanced mind and stumbling legs since you couldn’t even walk straight.

“why would you drink so much if you’re such a lightweight?”

“how do you know i’m a lightweight? you weren’t there, i could have drunk an entire bathtub full of booze before you showed up!” 

“nah, i can smell it, there’s no way you drank anything more than a few pints.”

“oh, so the kitty is a dog now? i thought you were more cat-like this whole time, but i guess i was wrong.” 

“what?” they say what a person says when intoxicated comes from their soul and true thoughts with little to no filter, but he certainly wasn’t anticipating those words to come out of your mouth.

“you look like a kitty, you know? with the way your hair does the little swoopy things— do you wake up like that or do you need to style it? you act like one too, grumpy ass kitty.”

“don’t call me that, kid, i hear it enough from wade already.”

“i’ll stop calling you kitty when you stop calling me kid! i know you’re old as hell, but i’m a grown-ass adult!”

“yeah? well, you’re certainly not acting like one right now.”

you were silent for a minute, making him worry for a second that he offended you by calling you childish, but when he looked back down at you, you were simply staring in astonishment. “i’ve never seen you smile before! you look a lot more handsome, you should do it more often!”

was he smiling? he didn’t even notice, grinning ear to ear and revealing his pearly white teeth, chuckling at your ridiculous words. was this really the first time you saw him smile and heard him laugh? no wonder you assumed he was avoiding you, he was surprised you didn’t hate him just because of a misunderstanding.

it took some time to get you up all of the stairs to your floor without tripping, and logan was almost sad the night was over so quickly. even if the conversation was mostly one-sided and you were intoxicated with slurred words, he swears he listened to all you had to say between comedic bits, insightful knowledge, random bullshit, and found it all fascinating. luckily for him, his time with you wasn’t up yet as he watched you fumble with your purse and frown.

“oh, fuck… i lost my keys… oh no…” you slumped against the wall until you fell to the floor, feeling yourself starting to cry at this inconvenience with heightened emotions. 

“god, please don’t, not again…” he’s the absolute worst at comforting others, it isn’t his strong suit, and acknowledging this weakness seemed ten times more difficult when you were the one in need. “come on, you can sleep at my place for the night and charge your phone.”

“...really?”

“yes, come on.” 

you took his outreached hand and found yourself in his grasp again as he held onto your shoulder to steady you, unlocking the door and leading you into his shared apartment. he felt somewhat grateful that you were too drunk to notice how messy the site was, seating you on the couch as he got you a glass of water to sober up. you looked so out of place among it all, so young and feminine with your vibrant club clothing around all of the aging, scratched-up furniture and muted colors.

“thank you,” you murmur, downing the entire tall glass with a few gulps, “uh, where is the bathroom?” he directed you to where it was and allowed you to use it, quickly hearing you turn on the shower after a minute and just as quickly hearing you swearing in regret over the loud pitter-patter of the steaming hot water. “i’m never drinking again, why am i being so fucking stupid?!” 

“are you okay?” 

“yeah, except for the fact i forgot that i don’t have a change of clothes and i stepped into the shower with my current ones on because i forgot to take them off!” your voice cracked, feeling yourself starting to cry once again from yet another inconvenience. you were really just embarrassing yourself and couldn’t wait for this shitty day to be over.

he let out a sigh of relief, “god, don’t scare me like that— i’ll get you something, hold on, please don’t cry.” he could have stolen some of al’s clothing since she wouldn’t have noticed, or he could have stolen some of the clothes vanessa left behind after spending time with wade, but for some odd reason, he pulled out one of his canadian hockey jerseys for you. the fabric was soft and worn with time, smelling slightly of him and laundry detergent, and arguably the most comfortable thing he had at his disposal. “i’ll leave it outside the door, okay?”

“thank youu!!” (and thank god your underwear is still clean and dry enough to wear again, you have no idea what you would have done if you didn’t realize your mistake soon enough and stood under the water for long enough to be soaked to the bone.)

logan allowed his fatigued body to rest for a moment, sinking into the couch just as he did an hour ago in hopes of relaxation. what the fuck was he doing? since when did the wolverine play babysitter for drunk young women, walking them back to play guard dog against possible creepy men, letting them into his home, and lending them his clothing to wear? this was so uncharacteristic of him, he couldn’t think of a single person he was willing to do this for other than laura, but you certainly weren’t nearly as close to him as he was to her! lord, he’s so pathetic, he thinks he probably would have carried you back bridal style too if you asked him.

the water stopped and he waited for you to exit so that he could show you where you could sleep, but he could now see he didn’t need to. your apartment layouts are nearly identical, and it looks like your brain was switched onto autopilot after cleaning up, mindlessly strolling into his bedroom and plopping down on his mattress as if it were your own. (his shirt was practically a dress on you, falling to your mid-thigh and ill-fitted on your smaller frame, his eyes lingering on it for a second longer than what would have been polite.)

he leaned against the doorframe, watching you make yourself comfortable and preparing to stay there until the early afternoon with a banging headache. “are you comfortable? do you need anything else?”

you murmured something in response and stretched out your arms, making grabby hands and inviting him to join you, “come cuddle with me! herree, kitty, kitty, kitty~”

are you really calling a fifty-something-year-old, six-foot-tall killer mutant with adamantium bones and razor-sharp claws that come out of his knuckles ‘kitty’? yes, yes you are, and you’re going to scream into your pillow from embarrassment when you recall it the next day.

“i don’t do cuddles, princess,” he chuckled even though he intended to scoff. “and i already told you to quit calling me that.”

“pleaseee? pretty pleasee?” you chirped, eyes going big and round just like a puppy in a cartoon, begging him to humor you in this request.

are you truly a human, or are you secretly a mutant who has hypnotic powers? the answer is obvious, he’s just an old loser who apparently answers at your every beck and call now because all he could do is sigh, slip off his jacket, and get under the blanket with you. 

you rolled on your side and wrapped your arm around his body, nuzzling your face into his comforting touch and inhaling the mild scent of pine and tobacco. humming a satisfied “good night” and dozing off within a few minutes, you clung to him as tightly as a koala onto a branch, and he couldn’t separate himself from you without making you stir and whine. 

trapped in the embrace of a beautiful neighbor whom he possessed a soft spot for, wearing his clothing and laying in his bed, he would be trapped like this until morning it sounds like a dream to most men, but to logan, it’s the fear of getting attached and losing someone else important to him rearing its ugly head to the forefront of his mind. it scares him to think what could happen if he allowed himself this pleasure of becoming close to you, and yet when he admires your slumbering face, he feels like it would be okay and work itself out in the end somehow.

he fell asleep more quickly than usual when you held him, and for the first time in forever, he wasn’t tormented with horrid nightmares of the past that always plagued him before now. when he woke up, his weary soul was well-rested and energized, almost as if he was twenty years younger again. the wonders of a good night’s sleep, or perhaps, the wonders of being with you. 

it felt so… natural to wake up with you next to him.

you were practically a dead weight by now, not rousing in the least when he slowly got up to leave the bed. he did feel a little back about undoing the grasp you had on him though, felt a bit like abandoning you in a vulnerable state. he sauntered into the kitchen to brew a cup of coffee as per his routine, only to find the most annoyingly loveable scarred face sitting in a chair waiting for him, legs crossed and hands in his lap like a supervillain. 

“sooooo, how was your night, you smitten kitten? you dirty dog!” there was a stupid smirk on his face, trying his best to hold back a fit of giggles. he knows nothing suggestive happened and was just teasing, but he still wanted to hear him say that it was a wonderful night nonetheless and to thank him for playing matchmaker.

“shut the fuck up before i stab you again. don’t ruin this morning for me.”

[gatorbites-imagines]

Yes! Wolverine & Deadpool having a brat off? Both sub brat bottoms competing for reader? Maybe ending up in a 3way relationship

Logan Howlett x Cable variant male reader x Wade Wilson

Headcanons

I like cable, so, cable variant reader. i had a lot of fun writing this, so i hope yall enjoy.

You were a variant of cable, that much was clear when Logan and Wade first met you in the void. The mechanical eye and arm were a pretty clear tell.

And Wade, already knowing his own Cable, immediately started squealing and trying to jump at you to hug you and kiss you all over in the way Deadpool is known for. Of course you throw him off you, maybe even shoot him once or twice, because who wouldn’t.

You and Logan were both pretty gruff guys, with pasts of your own that made you that way, where Wade was just his annoying self. It helped keep everything less tense though, especially in the fight against Cassandra.

In the end, you somehow got dragged along to the big fight, and you being a cable variant got different versions of Deadpool to start fawning over you during the whole fight sequence with them.

After it all was done and over with, you also got dragged along to Wades timeline. You were different enough to his cable to fit in without the universe ripping itself apart, and what could you say, you had grown to like these two, as much as you butted heads.

Blind Al was immediately against both you and Logan moving in, since there was barely any room at all. She did appreciate you being able to cook though, and the fact that you could jump across time to get her cocaine from the future.

In the end, Wade, Logan and you move out together after taking different jobs, and getting paid by the TVA to deal with variants making their way into this universe. You bring Mary poppins obviously.

You couldn’t tell when it all got romantic, neither could Logan and Wade honestly. You all lives together, and you'd left Wade in charge of getting beds, like the idiots you were. And of course he got one of those Alaskan king beds

Wade pouted and whined about how you were both so hairy, and how he was hairless all over so of course he needed to cuddle between you and Logan for warmth. It resulted in some fighting, Wade getting impaled by Logans claws, and you scruffing them both to pull them apart like scrabbling cats.

In the end you guys keep the bed though, and end up sleeping together with you in the middle. Logan has a preference to sleep on your mechanical arm, since he can’t break it easily, and wade just likes to tuck himself as deep into the crook of your arm as possible, always moaning about man stench and how nice and hairy you are.

That always results in you rolling over so your backs towards him, deciding to just spoon Logan instead. And yes, you do notice the little cocky smirk on Logan's lips when you do it, especially when he makes sure Wades watching. Its only when Wade starts rolling on the bed whining like a shot dog that he’s so cold and lonely that you roll back over to let him cuddle against you again.

Logan isn’t the most affectionate guy in the beginning, where Wade is too much. Its clear to you that they’re both acting like this as a defense mechanism, and it takes a long time for you to work them both to a place where they’re more comfortable.

You aren’t too shocked that Logan and Wade both turn out to be cuddlebugs, Logans just a lot grumblier and more catlike about it, where Wade is more like an over excited puppy slobbering all over your face, because he got the bright idea to try and lick your mechanical eye.

What you hadn’t expected was for them both to be so… damn… bratty…

Wade you could see, hell, it was even expected. It didn’t even take him an hour after meeting for him to bend over too much and grind back against you and giggle like a schoolgirl about it. Logan had been a bit of a shock though.

You had assumed you two would need to duke it out for dominance like a pair of bears for territory, but after getting him comfortable, Logan just rolls over and shows his stomach. It left you scratching your head a bit, but you weren’t gonna turn him away, who wouldn’t want to top Logan?

Him acting bratty was an experience though, the first few times. Where Wade was bratty in the way where hed show off way too much, wearing tight clothes or rubbing on you, teasing you any chance he got. Logan was brattier in the way that made you want to throw him over your knee and smack some sense into him, with the nonorganic hand you had.

He started scratching at furniture, leaving your boots and weapons all over the apartment, using up all your leather grease and leaving the tin empty in your toolbelt. It was like he was trying to see which buttons he could press and which he couldn’t.

Maybe it was because of your mind powers, but you could feel the, whatever it was, brewing in the air, growing thicker each day. It got to the point where Wade and Logan mixed up their methods. How the hell were you gonna focus on your guns when Logan was flaunting around in nothing but a way too small towel, and Wade was making a damn mess in the kitchen he wasn’t gonna clean up?

Logan was the first to pick up when they’d gone too far, since hed been hypervigilant about your scent since they started rocking the boat. But Wade very quickly paid attention when you put your, unpolished still, boots on and got up.

They’d both tensed up when you turned your two different eyes towards them, the tech eye flaring in a way they both knew meant business. They were both left floundering though, as you grabbed your jacket and told them to get ready for when you came back, and you just… left.

Both Wade and Logan were lost about that, both expecting you to bend them both over and make them regret how far they had pushed you, but instead they could just hear your heavy boots stomping down the hallway and out the apartment building.

Neither of them were too well behaved, but they were smart enough to at least get naked and prepped, and maybe they helped each other, though it was mainly Wade riding Logans fingers and whining like he was wounded the entire time.

A good hour passed before you came back, smelling like the cigarettes you smoked when you needed to do a more serious hit. Logan could also smell alcohol on you, but nowhere near enough to mean you were drunk. You had clearly just let them be to make them anxious.

Wade got whiny and grumbly when you undid your belt and freed yourself, just tilting your head in their direction as if to say “you gonna apologize to me?”. Logan, being the smarter of the two, and wanting to be first, was quick to crawl towards you and wrap his lips around your shaft.

Wade, seeing this, immediately started complaining and crawling over, trying to lap at whatever Logan couldn’t fit in his mouth, which wasn’t a lot, seeing as Logan didn’t want Wade to get any of you so he pushed his throat to the max.

As they fought for your cock, you just leaned back to watch, and unamused expression on your face as if it was the most boring blowjob you had ever gotten. Even as Wade swapped to lap at your sack instead, since Logan was hogging your cock.

You do end up fucking them both senseless, your telekinetic powers coming in handy to hold the one you weren’t shoving face first into the floor still. It also helped you keep Wades mouth shut, since he became even more of a motormouth with you inside him.

Of course, you also made Wade lick up the drool puddle he made on the floor, as well as making them both lick up the other messes they made. As a treat you let them eat your loads out of each other, because yes, you could be nice.

You weren’t though, so, even as Wade whined and complaining and Logan grumbled and scowled, you used your powers to cage them both up. If they were gonna be such brats, then they didn’t deserve to touch themselves, each other, or be touched by you.

And with the restriction being made from your mind powers, and you being so powerful, you could keep up with it even when asleep. And it wasn’t like they could just pull it off.

It led to even more bratting for the next couple of weeks, both of them acting out in their own ways about the punishment. But you just end up lengthening the period of your punishments, and adding more stuff on top of it.

Surprisingly its Wade that gets taken out of it first, since he could be good when he wanted too, and Logan has a tendency to be extremely stubborn. To no one’s surprise, Wade gloated the entire time he was allowed to ride you, taunting Logan that he wished it was him, but it wasn’t.

You did have to spank him for that one, but Wade didn’t seem to mind that much.

When you finally let Logan out, he’s on you in a second, whinier than you’re used too and rocking in your lap, more desperate than he’s been in years.

After all this you know their good behavior will only stick for a month or two before they’re back to it. you won’t complain though, since you love it. you act like you hate it, but that’s just part of the game, and seeing them compete makes your heart (and your crotch) full. And you all know that they enjoy the punishments too.

[javierpena-inatacvest]

You Make Loving Fun

Summary: You buy tickets to Fleetwood Mac for Javi's birthday. After a few drinks, Javi ends up having a little more fun than he intended.

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

Word Count: 6.1K

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (wrap before you tap) oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, paise kink, creampie, aftercare, implied? breeding kink (I think it's illegal for me to write if this isn't in the warnings somewhere) drinking alcohol, Javi gets absolutely HAMMERED, talks of having more kids and stopping birth control, Drunk Javi wants to tell anyone and everyone how much he loves his wife, Drunk Javi being sweet and happy and so in love because that's what he deserves

A/N: If you're anything like me, you've spent WAY too long looking at all of these photos of sweet Pedro at a concert, and of course, my brain automatically went "THAT'S JAVI GETTING WASTED AND HAVING THE TIME OF HIS LIFE" and now, here we are 🤷🏼‍♀️ I feel like Javi would be a very happy/affectionate drunk post-Colombia bc he is so happy just to be having fun and enjoying his life and that makes me ✨emotional✨ Also, thanks @itsokbbygrl for ruining my life by realizing the ring Pedro is wearing in this picture is on his RING FINGER?!?! 😩

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

“I feel to fucking old to be doing this.”

“To do what? Go to a concert? I hate to break it to you, Jav, but there are, in fact, no age limits at concerts. What, are you worried security is gonna try to kick you out for being too old?” You giggled, looking over at Javi next to you in the bathroom, finishing fixing his hair and adjusting his shirt. 

“I know, I just haven’t been to a concert in so damn long. Definitely not since we’ve had the girls.” Javi sighed, running his hand through the dark curls of his hair once more before turning to face you, still finishing up the last of your makeup in the mirror. 

Although you had intended for your Fleetwood Mac tickets to be a surprise for Javi’s birthday, trying to coordinate around your schedules and 3 little girls had made spontaneous date nights much more challenging than they used to be when you first met. But, with Chucho needing no incentive to babysit his granddaughters, you and Javi were excited to have a night out just the two of you, getting to enjoy your favorite band together, singing and dancing the night away to celebrate another year of Javi getting older. 

“Well then lucky for you, you’ll be the hottest dad at the concert.” You smirked, sassily tilting your head towards him to prove your point, your reaction just enough to snap him out of his self doubt, Javi joining in on the laughter as he stood behind you, grabbing your waist and placing a soft kiss on the bare skin of your shoulder next to the strap of your sundress. 

“Good thing I’ve got a fucking hot MILF of a wife to go with me then, huh?” Javi grinned, the kiss he had left on your shoulder now slowly starting to creep up your neck and collarbone as his hand reached down to grab a handful of your ass, making you squeal in surprise. “I know you picked this dress out on purpose because you know it drives me fucking crazy. God, you look good.” 

“Javi! You better stop or we’re gonna be late to dinner before the show!” You scolded, giving him a playful jab to his stomach, only making him tighten the grip on your ass even firmer with his other hand coming to join his first. 

“Hermosa,” He cooed, gently turning you around to take the mascara you had in your hand and set it on the counter before cradling your jaw in his palm, forcing your gaze up at him, “I know you. And you and I both know damn well you at least put enough a little buffer time into our plans for us to have sex before we left. Am I wrong?” 

Well, he caught you there, because he most certainly was not. 

“Maybe…” You replied sheepishly, overdramatically rolling your eyes at his statement, only making his boyish grin spread wider between his cheeks, “Okay, but seriously though, we do have to be quick, because I don’t want to- Ah! Javi!” 

You couldn’t help but let out a little shriek of surprise as Javi suddenly lifted you up, setting you down on the bathroom counter and caging your body under his, his arms planted on either side of your hips as his mouth crashed into yours, tongues and teeth dancing in a hungry and desperate clash. 

“I promise I won’t take too long. But I can’t help myself when you look this good, mi amor. Eres tan hermosa (You’re so beautiful). You’re gonna kill me in that dress, Momma.” Javi hummed, his hands now gripping the meat of your thighs and sliding down your legs to bunch up the skirt of your dress, hiking it up as he sank down to his knees in front of the bathroom counter. 

You could already feel the damp patch that had begun to grow in your underwear as Javi hooked his fingers around the elastic of its waistband, tugging the fabric down your legs and letting it fall to the bathroom floor, revealing your pussy, already wet and aching for him. 

Javi settled himself between your legs, draping them over his shoulders as his fingers slid through your folds, collecting your juices before beginning to circle at your clit with the pads of his fingers, peppering kisses along the inside of your thighs as you whimpered in delight. 

“J-Javi, please, baby.” You moaned, fingers tightening around the edge of the countertop as his thumb replaced his fingers on your clit, his middle and ring finger dipping inside your already weeping core, curling just slightly as he began to pump them in and out of you. 

It wasn’t long before his thumb was replaced by his mouth, the flat of his tongue licking a broad strip across your cunt, the new sensation sending a shockwave of pleasure through your body. No matter how many times Javi had gone down on you, it never failed to surprise you how goddamn good he was at it, memorizing every twitch and gasp that made you fall apart in the best way possible, and tonight was no exception. 

His slow, long strokes began to quicken, circling his tongue around your clit with the perfect amount of pressure as his fingers worked in tandem, curving in just the right place to press against your g-spot and begin to build the arousal swirling in your core. 

As much as you (and Javi, for that matter), would have loved to have taken your time and let him eat you out on the bathroom counter for hours, the both of you knew you were on a time crunch, but not enough of a crunch to stop Javi from making you cum at least once before he fucked you. 

The pressure of his tongue on your sensitive nub became more and more, before latching his lips to suck at your clit, your cunt clenching in anticipation around his fingers as you writhed beneath his touch, moaning his name as you felt your orgasm begin to build. 

You couldn’t help but let your hand shoot down to his head, your fingers burying themselves in his thick, brown locks, with absolutely no regard for the time he had just spent fixing his hair in the mirror just a few minutes ago.  

“Javi… Oh, shit. Fuck, more baby, please. P-please, I’m so close.” You moaned, looking down at Javi with what you were already sure was a wrecked expression painted across your face. 

You could practically feel Javi’s smug smirk pressed against your cunt before pulling away to respond. “Give it to me, pretty girl. Wanna taste you all over me when you soak my face.”

Before you could reply, your jaw dropped open and face scrunched in pleasure as Javi dove back in, burying his face in your cunt, each press of his tongue became more firm and precise than the last, feeling your pussy begin to flutter as you clutched tighter around the edge of the counter, trying to keep from screaming out in pleasure and raise any suspicion. But as your legs began to tremble and your heart race, teetering on the brink of collapse, it was taking every ounce of willpower you had left to make that happen.

Fuck, Javi. Fuck, I- fuck- I’m gonna, I’m gonna-ahhhhhh.” You whimpered, feeling your orgasm crash through you, pleasure radiating in your veins as you fell apart, losing all inhibitions to keep yourself quiet as you threw your head back in all consuming bliss. With his fingers still buried in your cunt, gently working you through your high, Javi shot back up, his mouth engulfing yours in an electric kiss to try and capture your ragged moans that had been coating the walls of the bathroom, the tangy taste of you still lingering on his lips. 

”That’s it, baby girl. Fuck, you’re so perfect. Love this pussy so fucking much.” He groaned, reaching down to frantically undo his belt buckle, his fingers working rapidly to undo the metal clasp before pushing his pants and boxers down his legs, letting them pool in a pile around his ankles. 

Still coming down from your high, your breath hitched as the tip of Javi’s cock ran through your folds, coating his length in your arousal before slipping inside you. You couldn’t help but gasp even harder at the new sensation of his fullness inside you, cockhead already kissing your cervix as his hips flushed with yours. 

Javi’s hands began to wander up your legs, pushing your dress up your thighs until he got to your hips, digging his fingertips in the soft fabric as he thrust in and out of you, mouths melding together as one. 

“Fuck, you feel so good, Hermosa. So fucking wet for me, taking me so well.” Javi moaned, nipping at your ear as his pace became faster, fucking into you in the spot he knew made you lose all control, silently smirking at the pathetic whimpers that were escaping your lips. 

Javi buried his face in the crook of your neck as your legs began to instinctively lock around the small of his back, bringing him closer to you with each thrust. You could already feel that all too familiar tingle building at the base of your spine once again, wanting to feel every inch of him you could deeper and deeper inside you before you came. 

With the way the hairs at the base of his cock were brushing against your clit, you knew you didn’t have much longer until your orgasm was about to crash though you, finding yourself grasping fistfuls of Javi’s shirt for dear life as you mumbled incoherently. 

”O-oh shit, Javi. Fuck, F-fuck, don’t stop baby. Please, don’t stop.” 

You could practically hear the hum of satisfaction deep in Javi’s chest feeling your cunt clench tighter and tighter around his cock, his firm grasp of his hands on your hips holding you in place on the counter as he pounded into you. 

”C’mon Osita. Cum all over me. Give it to me and I swear I’m gonna fuck you so full of me, I’ll be dripping out of you all night.” 

“Yes, fuckfuckfuck, please, Javi.” 

“Is that what you want? You gotta be a good girl and cum for me first, baby.” 

That was all it took for you to break before you could feel a wave of pleasure rushing through your body, euphoria running through your veins as you came, crying out Javi’s name like a prayer as he started to chase his own high. His thrusts became frantic and sloppy, his brows furrowing in focus to hold out just a little longer until your body melted into his in your blissed out state. 

“That’s it, hermosa. I love you so much. I- oh shit- I’m close, too. F-fuck, I’m gonna fill this tight little pussy so full of me that it- oh fuckkkkkkkk.” With a few more pumps, a moan escaped from Javi’s parted lips as he came, spilling himself deep inside your walls. The warm mix of his spend and your arousal dripped out of you as his cock softened, whimpering at the loss as he pulled out, but catching your muffled moans in his mouth as his lips met yours, cradling your face in his palm. 

Through your heavy breaths from heaving chests, you and Javi both couldn’t help but smile and laugh to yourselves as your foreheads rested against each other, quietly whispering “I love you” to each other in sync, your bodies slumped together in a blissed out heap on the bathroom counter. 

”Fuck, you’re so hot. I’ll never get over it.” Javi smirked, biting down on his lip after giving you another quick kiss, rummaging through your bathroom cabinets to pull out a washcloth to clean you up with.

”Takes one to know one, Peña.” You giggled, letting out a content sigh as you let your head fall back, closing your eyes for a moment before looking over your shoulder to see Javi, and behind Javi, the clock that you both had very much not been paying attention to in the midst of your antics.

”Oh fuck…” 

“Already did that, mi amor,” Javi teased, running the washcloth under the warm water of the sink, “What’s wrong?”

Without saying a word, you gestured to the clock hanging on the bathroom wall with a defeated shrug, Javi turning around with a quiet laugh to himself, shrugging his shoulders right along with you. 

“You’d think after how long we’ve been together we’d start giving ourselves even more time than we think to leave for things, huh?” 

“You would think, huh?” You giggled, accepting defeat that the two of you would most definitely not be making it to your dinner reservations that you had planned before the concert. “Sorry, Jav.”

 “What do you have to be sorry about, cariño? Fuck, I get to have amazing sex with my beautiful wife before we go see our favorite band, what a horrible birthday night so far.” Javi teased, giving you a reassuring nudge that you had nothing to apologize for. “I think the real question is…” 

”Is what, Mr. Sarcasm?” 

“What size fries do you want with your McDonald’s Coke and McNuggets for dinner?” 

“How did you know I was gonna say we should get McDonald’s for dinner?!” 

“Because Osita, I swear I know you better than I know myself.” 

After some quick touch ups and a call to Chucho to say goodnight to your daughters before you left, you and Javi were on the road, happily enjoying your McDonald’s and taking turns picking your favorite Fleetwood Mac songs to jam out to, spending your ride debating what songs they’d play, reminiscing about the songs you loved, and singing at the top of your lungs, to the point you were positive you would have no voice tomorrow. 

While you hadn’t been able to keep the concert itself a secret, the one thing you had been able to hide from your husband was the fact that you had managed to get not just good, but great seats for the show. If Javi had known how much you’d spent for him on his birthday, he would have insisted on finding cheaper tickets, but if there was anyone who was deserving of getting to see his favorite band from an incredible view, it was him. 

From the moment the two of you had entered the venue, you had your tickets peeled to your chest to keep them from Javi, reassuring him that you knew where you were going, much to his dismay and insisting that working together would help you find your seats quicker. 

After a few minutes of wandering and secretly maneuvering to the right section of the stadium, you had finally found where you belonged, excitedly pulling Javi along behind you towards your seats.

“Baby, not that I don’t trust your navigation skills, but I feel like we’re down way too far in the stands. ” Javi questioned, his hand in yours as you dragged him through the crowd, looking back and forth between your ticket stub and the stadium rows to find your spots. 

“Not to burst your bubble, Jav, but my navigation skills are as on point as they ever have been.” You smirked, crossing your arms over your chest before handing him over your tickets, his face stunned and in shock as he read the small stubs of card stock, realizing you had absolutely led the both of you to the right place. 

”Happy early birthday, Javi. I know the concert itself wasn’t a surprise, but I hope that these seats are still a good one.” 

“Osita… Baby, you can’t be serious…” Javi’s jaw dropped, eyes going wide in shock, convinced you had to be joking or playing some sort of prank on him. 

“Serious as a heart attack, Jav.” 

Javi stood there speechless, tears welling in his eyes with an awestruck grin on his face, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug before peppering your face with kisses, making you giggle and squeal in delight. 

“God, I love you so much. Thank you, Hermosa. This is… fuck, this is absolutely incredible. Thank you. I don’t- this is way more than I deserve. Thank you so much.” 

Your heart swelled at the boyish grin spread across Javi’s face as he looked out at the view in front of him, knowing that if you could give your husband the world in his pocket, you would in a heartbeat, but to see his excitement over some seats at a concert would do just fine. 

“You’re so welcome, baby. You do deserve it. You deserve it more than anyone I know. You are the most amazing, wonderful husband and dad. If I could get you up there on stage with Stevie Nicks, I would, because that’s what you deserve.” 

“I think the last thing anyone needs is to hear me even attempt to sing.” 

“The girls love it when you sing to them.” 

“That’s because they don’t know any better. Give it a few more years and I’m sure they’ll be begging me to stop.” 

“What they know won’t hurt ‘em,” you laughed, giving Javi a playful shrug, “Also, the other part of this gift is that I am driving us home from the concert, so you can have as much fun as you want.” 

“Baby, you don’t have to-” 

“I can and I will,” You sassed defiantly, cutting Javi off before he could oppose your offer, “You always drive so I can have a good time, and you deserve to have time to let loose, too. So, with that being said, I am going to go get us drinks. Drunk Javi is one of my favorite Javi’s and I don’t get to see him very often. Okay?” 

“Okay. Thanks, Hermosa. I love you.” 

“I love you too, Jav. Now, what do you want to drink?” 

“Surprise me.” He laughed, giving you a quick kiss and a subtle smack on your ass as you walked past him to make your way back to the concession stand. “Drunk Javi is really one of your favorites?” 

“Absolutely. Drunk Javi loves to dance. Drunk Javi also gets very sweet and a little handsy, both of which I am more than okay with.” 

A few drinks deep and the opening bands finished, Javi, or better yet, Drunk Javi, was having the absolute time of his life. For as fun and goofy Javi was at home with you and the girls, it was few and far between that the former DEA agent found himself intoxicated out in public with a case of dancing shoes and uncontrollable giggles. 

“God, I’m having so much fun. Are you having fun, Hermosa? You’re the best wife ever, you know that?” Javi grinned, wrapping his arm around your waist as he pecked a sloppy kiss onto your cheek before taking another sip of his beer. 

“Glad to know you don’t have a secret wife who you like better than me.” You teased, giving him a little nudge and giggling at his drunken state, a little surprised when all of a sudden his face turned serious, setting down his beer to cup your jaw with his palms and forcing his gaze on his. 

“Baby, you know I would never ever do that, right? I literally love you so much. You and the girls are my whole world. I think I would rather die than be with anyone else besides you. No, I know I would rather die than be with anyone else. You are literally perfect.” Javi pleaded, his concerned, big, brown puppy dog eyes making your heart melt. 

“Yes, Mr. Dramatic, I know you would never have a secret wife, but thank you for your very adamant confirmation.” You giggled, pressing up on your tiptoes to give him another kiss, washing the worry away from the concerned furrow of his brow. “You are such a goofball. I love you so much too, Jav. I promise, I’m not going anywhere either. Well, actually, that’s a lie. I do need to go to the bathroom before Fleetwood Mac comes on, but I will be right back.” 

“Okay, mi amor. I’ll be right here when you get back.” Javi nodded adamantly, knowing in his drunken state he would be taking his job of not leaving your seats very seriously until you safely returned. 

“I know you will, Javi. I’ll be quick, okay? Need anything when I’m gone? Besides another drink?” 

“How did you know I was gonna say I needed another drink?” Javi asked in complete shock, like you had just showed him the world’s most inconceivable magic trick. 

“I’d say the almost empty bottle was a good clue.” You winked, giving his arm a little squeeze before shimmying your way through the row of seats and up the stairs to find the nearest bathroom and concession stand. 

Normally, Javi wasn’t one to strike up small talk with strangers just for the fun of it, but with his lowered inhibitions, he couldn’t help but find himself turning to the group of women seated next to him to kill the time before you came back from the bathroom. 

“Have you guys seen Fleetwood Mac before?” Javi shrugged, finishing the last bit of beer at the bottom of his bottle. 

“Yeah, we’ve seen them a few times! They’re really good live!” One of the women responded, her friends nodding in agreement. 

“I’ve seen ‘em before too, but this is my wife and I’s first time seeing them together. She got me the tickets for my birthday, but she surprised me with how good these seats were. She’s amazing.” Javi beamed, subtly nodding his head to the music playing in the background between sets. 

“Awh, that’s so sweet!” One of the other women chimed in, the three women laughing to themselves at how drunk and awestruck Javi was over you. 

“It is. I hope they play Everywhere. It’s our favorite song by them. We played it at our wedding when she walked down the aisle and I bawled like a baby. She looked so beautiful. Who am I kidding? She’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. Like, ever.” Javi’s grin was growing wider by the second, staring off into the distance as he rambled on about you. 

“Oh my goodness, you are so cute. She’s a lucky lady.” The women smiled, incredibly entertained by everything Javi had to say. 

“No. I’m the lucky one.” Javi responded, stone cold serious as he pointed to himself, finger poking his chest. “Have you seen her? She’s so pretty. And she married me! And on top of that, we have a family, too! Can you believe it?!” 

“With how in love with her you seem to be, I 100% can. How many kids do you have?” 

“3 daughters. Lucy is 5, Elliot just turned 3, and Harper is 7 months old.” Javi counted on his fingers, holding up 3 to represent each of his girls. “I love them so much. Being a dad is like, the most coolest thing ever. And she’s such a good mom. They’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” 

“Hey, Chatterbox.” You laughed, gently tapping Javi on the shoulder, trying not to startle him as he turned around, beaming from ear to ear at your presence. “Here is your drink and- oh!” 

“Osita! I missed you.” Javi swallowed the rest of your sentence in his mouth with a strong kiss, pulling away to greet you with a goofy grin, followed by a confused frown. “Wait, where did you go?” 

“Oh boy, we’re gonna have to pick some Gatorade and Tylenol up on the way home, aren’t we? I was just going to the bathroom, remember? And to get you another drink, silly goose.” You giggled, holding out his beer for him. 

“Oh shit. I should probably go to the bathroom, too. Do you think I have enough time to go? I don’t wanna miss anything with you!” Javi questioned frantically, realizing he definitely had not utilized the bathroom to the extent he probably should have. 

“You should be fine, babe. The lines were pretty short, so if you hurry I’m sure you’ll be back in plenty of time.” You reassured him. 

“Phew, okay, I can go fast, no problem. I’ll be right back, hermosa.” Carefully taking back his beer as he handed it off to you, Javi quickly scrambled through the crowd to follow the path you had just returned from, leaving you laughing to yourself and shaking your head. 

“We just wanted to let you know, your husband is absolutely adorable.” One of the women furthest away from you piped up, catching your attention. 

“Oh, um, thank you?” You replied, tilting your head in confusion. 

“That man is utterly obsessed with you. I think he had more nice things to say about you in 30 seconds to a group of strangers than any of my exes ever did combined.” 

“Girl, not to mention he is handsome. You are one lucky woman. Who knew it would take a stranger in love at a Fleetwood Mac concert to once again raise the bar for men.” 

“Wow, uh, thank you. That’s really nice of you. I’m not gonna lie, he’s pretty darn great.” You blushed, trying to keep your smile from spreading too wide at their compliments for Javi over his affection for you. 

“Of course. We won’t bother you anymore, but figured you’d like to know that your man is still head over heels for you. Enjoy the rest of the concert!” 

“Thanks, you guys too!” You smirked, your eyes darting down towards your feet to hide the red glow of your cheeks, your heart bursting with warmth from the fact that even in his drunken state, you found yourself falling harder and harder for Javi every day. 

Suddenly, the lights around the stage began to dim, the roar of the crowd overtaking the stadium, signaling Fleetwood Mac were only moments away from taking the stage. Instinctively, you peeked your head behind you through the crowd to look for Javi, relieved when you saw his broad figure hustling down the stairs, waving at you with a goofy grin the whole way. 

"I was worried I was gonna have to come find you before the show started!” You sighed, grabbing Javi’s face and giving his cheeks a playful squeeze before giving him a quick peck on the lips. 

“Osita, you know I wouldn’t miss this for the world.” 

Any high hopes that you had for the show were surpassed, and then some. The band played all of your favorites, the both of you singing and dancing along, probably making complete fools of yourselves, but you couldn’t care less. 

You were particularly impressed with Javi’s over dramatic stomping and air drumming to “The Chain” to kick off the show, having to grab his beer to keep it from spilling all over himself several times throughout his performance. Although incredibly offbeat, Javi's enthusiasm made up for any drunken lack of rhythm throughout the song.

The both of you couldn’t help but shout along to “I Don’t Wanna Know” at the top of your lungs, painfully off key and obnoxiously loud, Javi reaching down to grab your finger, wrapping his hands around it to use as his own makeshift microphone for the entire duration of the song. 

During “Landside”, you found Javi standing behind you, chest pressed to your back and arms wrapped around you as you swayed back and forth, gently wiping your tears and choking back his own as he whispered in your ear how lucky he was to build his life around you and your girls, mumbling something about how if any of the girls get married and pick this song to do a father daughter dance to, he’d be an absolute mess. 

By the end of the concert, you and Javi were both exhausted, giving every last ounce of energy to “Go Your Own Way”, the crowd erupting with thunderous applause as the show came to a close, lights flashing and confetti exploding from the ends of the stage in an array of bright colors in the same way your heart felt like it was exploding with joy from the incredible time you had with Javi. 

Over the cheers and hollers, Javi leaned in, cupping your cheek in his palm, the other arm wrapped around your waist pulling you closer to his chest, capturing you in a kiss that seemed to make time stop and everyone else disappear, feeling like in that moment, no one else existed but the two of you. 

“I love you so much, Osita.” 

”I love you too, Javi.”

“Tonight was- Oh shit, hold on,” Javi paused, letting out a long, low burp, a signature Drunk Javi move, placing his hand over his chest and letting out a long sigh before speaking again, “Sorry, that felt good. Wait, what was I saying again?” 

“That you had a lot of fun. I think it’s time that we get you home, cowboy.” You couldn’t help but snort at his impressive display of flatulence, wrapping your arm around his waist as you walked with the flow of the crowd departing from the stadium, hand patting his hip in reassurance. 

It wasn’t until you began to try and travel up the stairs and through the sea of concert goers that you realized just how drunk Javi was. While wrapping your arm around his hip had started off as a sweet gesture to help guide him in the right direction to leave, you began to worry that you were going to have to try and keep him up until the two of you got to the car. 

Thankfully, your humming, happy as can be Javi made it to your parking spot, breaking free of your grasp to race to your car, tugging at the driver’s side door with profound confusion at it’s locked state. 

“Hermosa! The car is locked! How are we gonna get home if we can’t get in?” Javi fretted, tugging harder at the door handle. 

“I have the keys, baby, don’t worry.” You laughed, reaching into your purse to unlock the truck’s doors, sending Javi stumbling backwards as the driver’s side swung open from his last tug at the handle. “Also, you are on the wrong side there, pendejo. I’m driving home, remember?” 

“Oh fuck, you are! I was gonna say, I think I’m a lil drunk. I probably shouldn’t drive.” Javi grimaced, quickly scampering to the other side of the car as you unlocked it, laughing as you watched him squeeze into the passenger set that was clearly set for your stature and not his. 

“I think you might be more than just a little drunk, baby.” You corrected, clicking in your seatbelt and firing up the ignition, peeling out of your parking spot. 

“Yeah, I’m a lot a bit drunk. I’m sorry, Osita.” He pouted, slumping his face in his hand, elbow resting on the center console. 

“Jav, why on earth would you possibly be sorry?” You frowned, wondering what Javi had to apologize for. 

“I’m sorry I’m so drunk and now you have to drive me home.” 

“Baby, I’m glad that you decided to get drunk. I wanted you to have a good time! Number one, you’re always driving me home whenever I wanna have fun and number two, it’s your birthday, and you deserve to let loose and have as much fun as you want to. Don’t apologize, okay?” You smiled, gently grabbing your hand in his and giving it a little squeeze, instantly flooding his face with relief. 

“Okay. I’m sorry I talked to those ladies sitting by us earlier while you were going to the bathroom, too. I was just trying to be nice. I just wanted to tell them how excited I was to see Fleetwood Mac with you, and how beautiful and amazing and perfect you are, and that you’re the best wife ever.” 

“I know Jav, it’s okay. I didn't even think twice about it. They were very sweet, and said you had lots of nice things to say about me and the girls. It was very cute.” You smirked, lifting your interlocked hands to your lips to plant a kiss on his knuckles, giving it an even tighter squeeze of reassurance in the process. 

At this point, Javi had practically melted into the passenger seat, limbs spread out as wide as he could to try and get comfortable, tilting his head towards you with a mischievous grin and sparkle in his chocolate brown eyes. 

“You know what we should do when we get home?” Javi asked, now biting down on his lip to try and subdue his smirk. 

“I don’t know Javi, what should we do?” You responded back mockingly. 

“We shoulddddddddd....” He paused, dancing in his seat in excitement.

“We shoulddddddd, what, baby?” You sighed, laughing to yourself at his drunken goofiness. 

“We shouldddddd throw away your birth control and make another baby when we get home tonight.” Now Javi was full on beaming in an ear to ear grin, raising his eyebrows at you as he crossed his arms over his chest, trying to find any way to warm you up to his intoxicated acquisition. 

“Javi! We talked about this!” You scolded, giving him a playful slap to his chest, doing nothing to wipe his stupidly wide smirk off his face. “4 kids is a lot of kids. At least one of us can have a spare hand with 3, even if we’re outnumbered. I think 3 is the magic number, babe.” 

“I knowwwww, but making babies with you is like, the best thing ever. If you asked me to list my favorite things to do, that would be number one, no question.” Javi protested, convinced that this argument alone would be enough of a selling point for you. 

“Believe me, you’re not wrong, Jav. It’s a ten out of ten pastime, but even if I stopped taking my birth control tonight, I don't think it would happen, ya goof.” 

“Crazier things have happened. Maybe we'd just get really lucky. Our daughters are so cute. I know it’s unfair to say because they’re our kids, but like, we make some cute fuckin’ babies, Hermosa. What if we made another super cute baby? Just like, one more?” At this point, Javi had broken out his signature pout and big baby cow eyes, looking at you like a stray puppy who had been kicked to the curb. 

“Another adorable baby means I’m gonna have to build up my immunity to those sweet, sad, puppy dog eyes even more, and I honestly don’t know if I’m strong enough. I don’t know how all 3 of the girls ended up with your big brown eyes, but I hope you know it’s killing me slowly because of how frickin’ cute they are.” You sighed in defeat, knowing that your willpower with 3 sets of Javi’s mini-me’s was already low enough, let alone adding a 4th pair to the mix. 

“Soooooooooo it’s a maybe?” 

“Oh my god, you are so bad, Javier Jesus Peña.” 

“That’s not a yes or a no, Osita.” 

“....Maybe. But don’t get your hopes up, okay?” 

“So we’re not not gonna make a baby tonight?” 

“Javi, I love you, baby, but with how much you’ve had to drink, I don’t think nature is going to give you enough grace to even let that possibility play out.” You snorted, gesturing down to his crotch, making him roll his eyes. 

“Okay, that only happened one other time!” Javi sloppily pointed at you, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Yeah, when you were absolutely hammered after Steve’s 40th birthday party and wouldn’t let me put you to bed until you could prove to me that you did not, in fact, get whiskey dick, to which you fell asleep with your hands down your pants sitting in the guest room chair, unable to prove your point.” 

“That was not my proudest moment, I will admit that. Most of the time, I’m pretty good at sex, though.” Javi retorted, trying to bring himself back from your last point made. 

“Yes, Jav, you’re very good at sex.” You agreed, patting him on the leg and rubbing his thigh. 

“So good…. That we should make another baby tonight when we get home.” 

“Oh my god.” 

“I’m just saying!” 

“Jesus Christ, you goof. I think when we get home, someone needs to drink some water and get into bed. I love you very much, but that’s about as far as we’re getting tonight.” You laughed, rustling the messy curls of his hair as he leaned his head to rest against your shoulder. 

Javi sat silent for a moment, watching the headlights of the cars flash through his window, staring into the serene darkness of the clear night sky, the familiar warmth of his body pressed against yours in a comfortable calm. It was almost as if you could feel his eyelids beginning to droop, slowly closing while his sleepy state washed over him as he nestled against you. And while in that moment, the air between you hung quiet, you could hear the silent agreement that if given the choice, there was nowhere else you’d rather be than right here, right now, with each other. 

“Hey, Hermosa?” 

“Yeah, Jav?” 

“I love you.” 

“I love you, too.” 

“....Enough that we should make another baby tonight?” 

“Javi!”

Taglist:

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24

@3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85

@partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo

@endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @milly-louise

@jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled

@pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper r @nastiasnow @vee-bees-blog

@hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr

@amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild

@copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog

@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring @itsokbbygrl @javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

[subbmissivesuccubus]

Bully- Part 1

Summary: Your bully's, Gojo and Geto, find out an embarrassing secret of yours and will never let you live it down. But maybe, you don't want them to.

Disclaimer: 18+ fic. Gojo X Fem reader X Geto. Humiliation kink. Free use kink. Gojo and Geto being mean. Bully Geto and Gojo. Dub-con warning. It is subtly implied that reader wants and enjoys what's happening to her, but the boys don't care to ask for consent.

a/n: Sorry it took so long wah but here's part one to the series. I plan to write many more cause damn it is so fun haha. I promise, the next part will have all the gratuitous smut and ruthless fucking this premise deserves. Consider this an appetizer <3

Taglist: @bisexuawolfsalt @candycandy00 @nekonanamii @sirimiripetrichor @collectionofdolls @dreamsxmerci

You sighed as you walked towards your classroom, dragging your feet, knowing full well what was waiting for you. It was the end of the day and it was your turn to clean up the classroom and just your luck- you were paired up with the two people you couldn't stand.

Gojo and Geto. The two 'strongest' sorcerers of your school. Their reputation preceded them. One of them was the prodigal son of a famous family with a deadly technique while the other had an incredibly useful and powerful skill as well. Everyone disliked them to some extent, but nobody could deny that the Jujutsu world would be worse without them.

Which is why it always confused you as to why these two powerful men seemed to love bullying you.

They were never malicious but damn if they weren't annoying. They loved to tease and prank you, joking about how weak you were and how you couldn't do anything by yourself. Forget the fact that you were actually quite strong and capable- but compared to them- everyone was weak.

But they seemed to enjoy bullying you especially even if there were classmates who were of lower grade than you. Stealing your drink right before you were going to take it from the vending machine, taking unflattering pictures of you and distributing it, embarrassing you in front of strangers by treating you like a dumb baby in front of them, making loud sex noises if you were on the phone with someone, tossing away your books and stealing your money-

Gojo spanking your ass casually a few times, Geto licking off some chocolate that was smeared next to your lips like it was a normal thing to do and even that one time when they cornered you in the hallway and convinced you to let them grope your boobs:

"If you let us squeeze your tits, we'll leave you alone for a week~" Gojo had said, wangling his fingers comically as they both stared at your chest like perverts. The offer was too good to give up which led to them squeezing your clothed tits for ten second each before they left, laughing at how easy it was to use you. And of course, they continued to bother you anyway.

You could have made a complaint to the higher ups about their behavior, something your friends have told you to do but you refused. You didn't want to be the wuss who was running to the elders over something so childish when everyone has an important job to do. Dealing with some bullying was easy compared to fighting to the death with some curses.

Besides, if you reported on them...

You steeled yourself before opening to the door to the classroom, met with the sight you expected: Gojo and Geto, lounging around, not doing any work as they waited for you to do it for them because, in their words: 'the weaklings need to put in more effort'.

But what you were not expecting to see was your phone in Gojo's hand using earplugs that he had connected to the device. You knew you left your phone in the locker assigned to you in the hallways which meant these two managed to pick the lock and take it. But the anger over that was dwarfed by your sudden realization:

The way they were looking at you as you closed the door, giving you a shocked look but you could tell there was an underlying hint of pure glee.

Uh oh.

"Give me back my-"

You yelped as Geto suddenly grabbed your wrist and pulled you towards him, barely giving you a second to collect yourself before he wrapped his arms around your neck, catching you in a choke-hold. Before you could even react, he pulled your back against him and manhandled you as he sat on a classroom bench and forced you to sit between his legs, wrapping said legs around you. You were completely caught, your nails doing nothing even as you dug it into his arms.

"Holy fuck!" Gojo explained, eyes wide and a huge grin on his face as he continued to listen to the audio on your phone, looking over at you and Geto opposite of the table he was sitting on, "You're a perverted freak, aren't you?"

"Give it back!" you snapped, grunting in annoyance as you tried to break out of Geto's hold but the man simply laughed as he held you tighter, his legs not budging.

"This is some nasty stuff!" Gojo continued, "Who knew a weakling like you would be such a masochistic slut~" he removed the earbuds from the socket and increased the volume as he confirmed what you had feared:

"Yeah? you like that don't you? Little slut~" a man's voice echoed throughout the room from your phone speakers, "Everybody looking at you as I fuck this sloppy little pussy~ Oh this cunt is dripping for me- did you like being spanked in front of them so much?"

It was an erotic audio you had saved on your phone, one of many that you enjoyed in private. You had even saved it under non-suspicious names which meant that the boys were digging through your files to find something- and they did.

"This isn't even the only one we heard, you know." Gojo explained as he dangled the phone in front of you mockingly, "What was it again? A girl getting humiliated by her teacher in front of her classmates-"

"A girl getting groped by her boyfriend on a crowded train." Geto recollected, his lips so close to your ear you could feel his hot breath dance against your skin.

"Being used as a free-use toy by a group of guys~" Gojo said, a giant shit eating grin on his face, "Seems like this one has a humiliation kink~"

"I'm not surprised." Geto said, leaning into your ear and blowing into it, making you gasp and jump, "No wonder she never reported us to the principle for all the times we preyed on her. She was probably enjoying it."

"Oh!" Gojo said like he just realized it, "Was that why? Was your pussy growing wet every time we bullied you, little slut?"

"Fuck you." you spat out, both of the men laughing in response.

"Yeah, I bet you wanted us to fuck you." Geto growled into your ear, your shiver not going unnoticed by him, "You're fucking loving this~"

"Why don't we check?" Gojo suggested, cutting off anything you might have said, his hands inching towards your belt, a dangerous gleam in his eyes, "Let's see for ourselves if we made your pussy wet~"

"Gojo-"

"That's a great plan!" Geto interrupted, laughing as he tightened his hold your your neck, making you gasp, "Take those pants off. So baggy and loose- what a waste of a nice ass."

"I agree." Gojo said, finger now running over the metal of your belt, "it hides so much. With what I felt everytime I've spanked you- your pants do you no favors."

"Don't you- fucking dare!" You choked out, face turning slightly red from the lack of air and from Gojo slowly starting to fiddle with your belt.

"Oh, what are you gonna do about it, little slut?" Gojo teased, licking his lips as his long, lithe fingers started to tug at the leather of your belt, "Look at your fucking face- that look in your eyes? You're loving this."

"No- I'm not- fuck-" you sputtered out, failing to convey your frustrations. You couldn't stand these two assholes. Constantly picking on you and thinking they were so high and mighty- treating you like a bug on their path. So smug and narcissistic and not caring about anyone but themselves-

But as much as you'd hate to admit it, you couldn't deny that your body was throbbing. Everytime they bullied you, you felt that heat. Your heart-rate quickened and your pussy would grow wet, leaving you a confused mess every-time you got bullied. When it first happened, you didn't understand what was happening. Through some internet searching, you found those audios and realized you weren't the only one out there.

A masochist with a humiliation kink.

And without them knowing, the two guys you hate were fulfilling those fantasies for you.

Well now, they were more than aware.

"Come on, little bitch~" Geto cooed into your ear, his silky voice making you shudder, "Why settle with these audios when you can experience the real thing?"

"I...I..." you panted, heat rushing to your face and your heart pounding in your chest. You could feel your pussy dampen and had no doubt that if Gojo actually took your pants off, they'd see you be wet and needy.

"Too slow~" Gojo suddenly said, unbuckling your belt in a matter of seconds before ripping it off of you just as fast, throwing it aside. You yelped as you instinctively struggled, Geto laughing behind you as he tightened his hold on you even more, rendering you helpless. Gojo laughed as well, his bright blue eyes peeking from behind his glasses as you could see the gleam of excitement in them.

"You excited, little bitch?" Gojo cooed, licking his lips as his hands started trailing up your leg, running over the fabric of your pants as he inched up higher and higher. Everywhere he touched felt like it was on fire, a rush of heat coursing through you.

"He asked you a question." Geto said, clicking his tongue as you refused to say anything, "Weren't you taught any manners?"

"Fucking- i'll kill you-" you gasped out, face growing redder as you heard Geto's growl of annoyance, feeling the vibration of his chest against your back. "Don't worry about it, Suguru." Gojo said, smirking as he started undoing the buttons of your pants, "We can punish her later for her disrespect. For now, I just want to get at this pussy~"

With a big grin, Gojo ripped your pants off of you in one fell swoop, making you squeal as he tossed it away. You shivered as your bare legs were exposed to the evening air as well as their lecherous stares. You could see Gojo's eyes trail up your legs before zoning in on your clothed pussy, the man letting out a snort as he took in your panties.

"Pink with a bow on? Really?" he joked, "how plain and not sexy."

"I think they're cute." Geto chimed in, also shamelessly staring down at your clothed cunt, "But it doesn't matter. It's not going to be on her for long, anyway."

"True." Gojo said with a nod as he hooked his finger into the waistband of your panties and pulled it out before letting go, allowing the elastic to slap back against you, "but next time, wear something sexier."

"I hate you- so much!" you snarled, face bright red, biting your lower lip as the white haired man looped his fingers back into the waistband of your panties, this time, very obviously wanting to get it off of you. You gasped, unable to stop your shivers as Gojo leaned forward and placed a kiss on your tummy, his tongue peeking out to lick at your skin as he slowly starting pulling your panties down. He laughed as you tried to squiggle out but your movements only made the slide of your panties all the more easier for him.

"Look at that~" Gojo gasped as your cunt got exposed, practically drooling as he stared like a pervert, a twinkle behind his blue eyes, "You might be a weakling but atleast you have a pretty pussy."

"Atleast she's good for something~" Geto teased, shuffling behind you and in that moment, you felt it. Something long, hard and thick pressed up against your back and it didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what that was. You gulped as you felt the imprint of Geto's cock against you, unable to help yourself as your eyes darted towards the front of Gojo's pants and sure enough: His erection was straining against it.

They were too focused on your cunt to notice where you were looking and you were too focused on their dicks to notice that your panties were now completely off and that Gojo had tossed the fabric aside. Geto immediately hooked his legs over your own before forcefully spreading them apart, leaving you wide and exposed to their perverted gazes. Gojo let out a whistle as he dragged a chair over before sitting on it, his face now right across your bare cunt.

"Fuck- fuck you- fuck you!" you gasped out and cursed, feeling lightheaded from the situation. "How does she look?" Geto asked, both of them ignoring you and you could hear the hunger in his voice and the sensation of his cock twitching against you. "Oh, she's perfect~" Gojo responded and you knew they were referring to your pussy as its own person- somehow giving it more praise and respect than they've ever given you, "And oh so wet~"

"I want to see." Geto demanded, not having the same view as Gojo, "Can't let you have all the fun."

"Sure thing, pal." Gojo said, not taking his eyes off of your pussy as he continued to stare, hand reaching into his pocket to pull out his phone. "Gojo- don't you dare-" You barked out, understanding what he was going to do- but what you hoped sounded aggressive came out soft and subservient. The man simply snorted in response, ignoring your pleas as he opened up his phone camera and started taking pictures of your pussy. You shut your eyes and squealed everytime you heard the shutter of the camera, trembling body still held tightly in Geto's arms.

"Her hole clenches every-time I take a picture~" Gojo cooed, bringing a hand up to thumb at your pussy lips before spreading them apart even more, making your back arch against Geto, "And look at this little clit! So fucking cute!"

"Just show it to me already!" Geto snarled, impatient. "Alright, alright." Gojo responded with a roll of his eyes, standing up before turning the phone towards the two of you, a shot of your spread pussy on screen. You turned your head away and closed your eyes, ears ringing at how humiliated you felt-

and pussy dripping at how good it was.

"Oh, she does look delicious!" Geto praised, gripping your chin as he forced you to turn your head back towards the phone, making you look at the picture, "You have such a pretty cunt and you hid it from us for so long?"

You whined cutely as you looked at the picture- a closeup shot of your spread cunt with a clear view of your clit and hole, your cunt glistening with slick.

"Seriously!" Gojo barked as he started swiping, showing off the various photos of your pussy that were now in his possession, "If we knew all you wanted was some fucking, we'd have pounded this pussy ages ago! I've always wanted a sex toy."

"Don't you have like a dozen already?"

"Yeah, but I'm sure this bitch's cunt will feel way better than some silicone~"

"I hate you-" you gasped out, any and all fight leaving your bones (not that there was much to begin with) as you leaned your head against Geto's shoulder, "I hate you both- so much-"

"Yeah?" Geto asked, the tone in his voice clearly indicating that he wasn't taking you seriously, "Well, this pussy says otherwise."

He let go of your chin and snaked his hand down quickly to cup your pussy, making you yelp. You didn't know if what you felt was shame or relief that there was finally a hand on your cunt- finally some friction against your dripping womanhood. You tossed your head back, eyebrows furrowed and lip trapped under your teeth as Geto's long fingers started gliding through your pussy lips. The slick sound of him rubbing circles over your hole and collecting your wetness echoed through the room, the sound making your ears burn and your chest feel like it was on fire.

This is was so...so...

so fucking fun...

"She's loving this~" Gojo predicted accurately, eyes darting between your blissful expression and Geto's fingers toying with your body, "Fucking whore- slutty bitch- oh, we are going to have fun with you~"

"Her pussy is growing wetter by the second." Geto noted, cock fully erect and throbbing against you, his other arm slowly letting go of the hold around your neck, confident that you were going to stay right there like a good little girl. You gasped as the head spinning pressure was finally off of you, taking in a few deep breaths but choking on it just as quickly as the man started using his slick covered fingers to run circles over your clit.

"You're dripping all over the table, little bitch~" Gojo teased, taking a couple more pictures before pocketing it, "Fuck- let me feel too- or- actually-"

He sat back on the chair, pulling it closer before gripping your thighs, an eager grin on his face:

"I'm gonna eat~"

"Get used to this, little bitch." Geto growled into your ear, pulling his hand away from your cunt and snickering at your whine of disappointment, "You're our toy now and we are going to do whatever we want to you, understand?"

His hands came upto your chest, lithe fingers starting to undo the buttons of your shirt one by one, revealing a patch of skin before the peeks of your bra. Gojo licked his lips and moved forward, his hot breath fanning against your slick cunt.

"Whatever. We. Want."

[ashasdiary]

Pumpkin

Pairing: Nanami Kento x fem!reader

Synopsis: Husband!nanami (later father!Nanami) being super domestic during your pregnancy, birth, and arrival of your baby. 

CW: a smidge 🤏🏻 of angst but mainly FLUFF, pet names, established relationship, pregnancy, birth, babies  WC: 1.9k A/N: this is a sequel to Vitamins but can be read as a standalone if the smut in Vitamins is not your jam. Enjoy this fluffy goodness 🥹

Ever since those two tests had very loudly informed you of your pregnancy, Nanami had not let you lift a single finger to do anything. Not that he had even before your pregnancy — your husband’s love language was acts of service — but now? He was very hyperactive in taking care of you. 

“Honey, did you note down the appointment time in the calendar?”

“Honey, did you take your folic acid?”

“Honey, you’ve been on your feet too much today. You need to rest.”

“Honey, do you want me to give you a massage?”

“Kento,” you sigh, “I’m fine, really. It’s still early stages.”

“And you have to be careful during the early stages,” he notes. 

“I know. But you’re also treating me like I’m china and…it’s just…a bit too much,” you say. You didn’t want to tell him this, because you knew he meant well, but you also had to communicate your feelings to him. You were worried he’d be upset when you did, but he looks at you apologetically, seemingly taking it in his stride. 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I don’t mean to make you feel…suffocated. I was worried I was being too overbearing, but I wanted to make sure you knew that I want to do as much as I can for you. And the baby,” he explains in one breath. Your eyes soften and you step into his embrace, hugging him tightly, burying your face into his neck. 

“I do. I’ve always known that. I appreciate everything you’re doing for me, but I would also like to do things myself sometimes.”

“I understand. I’ll be more mindful, my love,” he rubs his hand up and down your back. 

“Thank you, Ken. I love you,” you kiss his cheek and he turns his face to capture your lips with his in a chaste kiss. 

Every week, you’d made it tradition to take a side profile picture of the bump along with the fruit that the baby was the size of. This was Nanami’s idea, of course, and he made it creative and fun. Seeing him be so excited for the arrival of your child made your heart swell with joy. 

He’d very proudly started to create a scrapbook of all the happenings during your pregnancy which he was eager to show your child when they got older. 

Interestingly, Nanami did not want to do a gender reveal when the ultrasound technician offered to write it down at one of the scans. And you couldn’t fault his logic when he later explained, “It’s silly. It’s a social construct. We’ll find out when they’re born, and regardless, even then it won’t matter. We’ll still love them the same.”

Every craving, every need, he provided. Including the need to jump his bones in the second trimester. Damn, did he keep up with you. You knew it was because he found the cute little swell of your belly so incredibly sexy — he’d voiced it on numerous occasions — knowing he’d done that, nothing made him more unhinged. 

Ever the doting husband and expectant father, he’d started reading up more about babies and often tell you facts you’d have never known. “Did you know that your heart grows bigger during pregnancy?” He informs you while you’re laid back on the couch, on opposite ends, 5 months in. 

“I…did not know that,” you blink, surprised. 

“Yep. It’s to help the heart pump more blood to the baby. Babies can also cry in the womb.”

“Oh no,” you pout, “I don’t want baby to cry.”

“I wouldn’t worry too much about that, hon, they’ve been quite gentle so far. You can sing to them, they’ll hear it by now. And talking to them in another language is also beneficial,” he notes and you let out a soft laugh at how he’s rattling off these fun facts. 

“Your brain truly amazes me sometimes, Ken, it’s like a sponge,” you prop your arm up and rest your chin on your hand. 

“So’s the baby’s right now. We should get a Duolingo subscription and get them started on another language already,” he jokes and you let out a hearty laugh, which earns you a little kick in protest from your baby. 

“Well, your child just said no to that,” you giggle. 

His mouth falls open and he scoots over and lies between your legs, coming face to face with your bump. “Listen here, you little squirt, you will learn another language whether you like it or not.”

“Oh, daddy’s setting rules,” you whisper. 

“And in addition to that language, which you will be fluent in, you’ll also learn jujutsu,” Kento tells your bump definitively. You laugh at how he’s instructing the baby firmly one minute and then lovingly pressing kisses to your skin the next. 

He relaxes against you, and you decide to tell him a fact you’d found out recently. “Did you know that eggs can pick and choose whether the sperm gets to fertilise it? For a while, I thought it was just a race of the best sperm to get to the egg. But the egg can reject it if it wants to. Isn’t that fascinating?”

He raises an eyebrow in slight surprise and amusement at this newfound knowledge. He wasn’t aware of that little detail either, but he finds it very intriguing. “That’s pretty impressive. I had no idea that they had such power over which sperm gets to fertilise them. Who knew eggs were such shrewd gatekeepers?”

“Right? But my egg was a terrible gatekeeper. Probably a combination of that and your sperm just being overachievers.”

He laughs heartily at your comment, the image of his overly ambitious sperm and your easy-going egg combining to form your miracle is quite the amusing picture. 

“Well, I do have some pretty strong swimmers, I can’t deny that. And your egg must have had a weak moment, letting my little overachievers through. But I'm glad it did,” he smiles warmly at you, his hand gently rubbing your leg. 

There were moments where you couldn’t wait to meet the little one, but you also found yourself getting emotional a few times that it wouldn’t just be you and him anymore. When he notices your glassy eyes one day while you’re eating breakfast, he frowns and takes your hand in his. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

The dam suddenly bursts — darned pregnancy hormones — and you start to bawl, managing to say between breaths, “It’s— not— going to— be just— you and me any— anymore…”

He has to stop himself from laughing at your sudden realisation and he circles around the dining table, embracing you. 

“And I know how stupid I sound right now, because I wanted this, and still do, but I’m— I’m just…scared,” you cry, inhaling shaky breaths. “What if I’m not a good mother? What if parenthood is the complete opposite of what I envision it to be?” You ramble.  

He rubs your back gently and comforts you, kissing the crown of your head as you rest it on his chest. “I know, honey. You don’t sound stupid. It’s natural to feel nervous. Parenthood is a new venture for both of us but it won’t be vastly different to what we think it’ll be. And you’ll be a fantastic mother. I’ll be by your side every step of the way, you’ll never be alone. We’re doing this together. We’ll make mistakes together. Clean up messes together. Strive together. It’ll be alright.”

His words of reassurance bring you a sense of calm and you feel the warmth of comfort spread through you slowly, easing your anxieties. 

He reassured you every time you felt any sense of worry or sadness, provided the love that you needed and more, and was a real anchor to harbouring your emotions. 

Week 40 arrived before you knew it. With a bright and large orange pumpkin in hand, you took what you hoped would be the last picture for the scrapbook. You both subsequently started referring to the baby as “pumpkin” that week. Every day that week, he had tried to coax them out with sweet words. 

“Are you gonna come out today, pumpkin? Today’s a good day to join us, I think. The weather’s nice out. You should come see it,” he whispered to your bump in the morning before you were awake. 

When your baby decided that they were ready to come out, Nanami was there, holding your hand the entire time, not once letting go. You were quite afraid of this final hurdle but with Nanami by your side, you knew you’d be okay. 

It was a long and tiring 14 hours, exhaustion was settled into your bones, but when you finally, finally give the final push and the baby is out, you cry. From the relief of birth being over, from the new chapter that had just opened, from having sight of the baby that you and Nanami had made. 

Nanami kisses your head, eyes glassy as he whispers praises of how well you did, that it’s over and that he’s so proud of you. 

The midwife places pumpkin onto your chest for some skin to skin, placing a blanket on top, the little thing curled up and looking disapproving of being pushed out of the coziness of your womb. 

Nanami chuckles softly as he peers over and the baby’s rosy lips tremble before they take their first breath and start to cry quietly. You sniffle as you wipe your own tears and look at your husband and he kisses your forehead. 

You hush the baby gently, speaking softly, “You’re here, pumpkin…here with us. I’ve got you.” 

After they cut the umbilical cord, the afterbirth comes out, and the midwives take the baby to bathe, clothe, take measurements, and bundle them up. 

“How do you feel?” Kento asks, holding your hand still as you stand up, ready to take a shower. 

“I feel a little empty inside, it also hurts. Not looking forward to peeing,” you sigh and he caresses your back gently. 

“You’ll get better with time, honey,” he guides you to the shower room.

There, he tends to all of your needs, helping you carefully wash up, dry off, put ice and a giant pad on, and then your clothes. You could almost cry from his attentiveness.

You hug him and squeeze gently, gazing up at him gratefully and lovingly. “What did I do to deserve you?” You whisper. 

He smiles sweetly, caressing your cheek and giving you a chaste peck. “You can’t say that after you just pushed our baby out,” he chuckles. You laugh softly and you hold each other for a moment longer, before you both go back into the room.

There, the midwives wheel the bassinet over to you, where pumpkin is awake and looking for something to come into focus. 

“She’s very healthy, Mr. and Mrs. Nanami.”

“She?” You repeat, feeling your heart flutter. A sweet little girl. 

Nanami smiles to himself, he’s elated. He has a daughter. “Sweetheart, come on, look at her lips, they’re totally yours.”

You give him a small smile, eyes filling with happy tears as you both fawn over your daughter. It was a little early to tell, but you hope she has his eyes. She had a bunch of blonde hair, too.

“Hold her, Ken,” you whisper and he obliges, gently picking her up and angling his arms perfectly to fit his little angel against him. 

He’s quiet for a minute, just soaking up the feeling of having his daughter in his arms, the warmth of her, her existence setting in. 

“Now, about those language lessons that you refused to do…” he speaks to her in a gentle tone, and your lips curl into a bigger smile at his jokes, “I don’t want to hear another word from you, little miss. Any objections?”

He’s quiet for a beat and the baby just pouts as she looks up at her father, which you laugh softly at. “Good choice. Maybe start to brush up on some Malay, sweet pea, your mama and I will be taking you to Malaysia one day soon,” he promises to her you feel your heart flutter in your chest at the thought.

The three of you, your little family, in your shared happy place. Something out of a dream, but soon would be reality.

You couldn’t wait.

Read the sequel, Pumpkin's First Birthday, here <3

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