#before you ask yes you can invite your friends too.

[rootedinrevisions]

All I Want for Christmas is a Cowboy

SUMMARY: When a night of playful banter and teasing turns into something far more intimate, you find yourself crossing every line you swore you wouldn't with Jake Seresin - the cocky, infuriatingly charming pilot who's always had a way of getting under your skin. Between stolen kisses, soft confessions, and moments that blur the line between lust and something deeper, it becomes clear that this isn't just a one-time thing. But as Jake's Stetson wearing, sweet talking side leaves you breathless, you'll have to decide if you're ready to risk your heart for the man who's never been one to play it safe.

A/N: This is a combination of my love for Megan Moroney and her song "All I Want for Christmas is a Cowboy" as well as a request that I received in November for the prompt "One kiss won't ruin the friendship, right?" and "Can I sleep with you tonight?" Hopefully whoever requested the prompts enjoys this! Thank you all for your patience with me as I write and get through the requests that I have.

WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DNI. Smut (PinV. Mentions of biting/marking. Fingering.)

WORD COUNT: 12.4k (I'm ovulating and rewatched TGM a few days ago and fell back in love with Jake. Please don't judge me.)

TAG LIST: IN COMMENTS

The Hard Deck was alive with the hum of Christmas cheer. Twinkling string lights wrapped around wooden beams, and a small but charmingly crooked Christmas tree stood in the corner, decorated with red ornaments and what looked suspiciously like aviator sunglasses. The jukebox was cycling through a mix of classic rock and Christmas hits, creating an oddly festive but fitting soundtrack for the evening.

You sat at a table near the back, surrounded by familiar faces—your chosen family. Natasha sat to your left, nursing a whiskey sour and laughing at something Bob had just said. Reuben and Mickey were on your right, engaged in a heated debate about the best holiday movies. Bradley leaned back in his chair across from you, his mustache twitching with amusement as he chimed in occasionally, and Javy was at the bar grabbing the next round.

It had been months—maybe a year—since you’d met the Dagger Squad through a mutual friend, but somehow, they had adopted you like one of their own. Now, invites to their gatherings were automatic, and evenings like this one were the norm.

Phoenix nudged your arm, pulling you out of your thoughts. “Alright, enough sitting on the sidelines. We’ve decided it’s time for a little holiday intervention.”

You raised a brow, taking a sip of your drink. “Holiday intervention?”

“You’ve been single for far too long,” she declared, gesturing dramatically with her drink. “It’s time we find you someone.”

Reuben snorted. “This again?”

“Yes, this again,” Phoenix shot back. “I mean, look at her.” She motioned to you with a flourish. “She's smart, funny, gorgeous—”

“Don’t forget stubborn,” Bob added with a grin.

“Exactly,” Phoenix said, unbothered. “We’re not letting you ring in another New Year without at least some action.”

You rolled your eyes, a laugh slipping out despite yourself. “I appreciate your concern, but I’m good, really.”

“Uh-huh,” Natasha said, unconvinced. “You know, we could always ask Jake—”

“Ask me what?” The smooth, teasing drawl interrupted her, and you didn’t even have to look to know who it was.

Jake “Hangman” Seresin strolled up to the table, pool cue slung over one shoulder, that infuriatingly perfect smirk already in place.

Natasha didn’t miss a beat. “We’re trying to set her up with someone. Know any decent guys who are single?”

A flicker of something—surprise, maybe?—passed over Jake’s face before he quickly masked it with an exaggerated scoff.

“Decent guys? Here? Good luck.” He leaned on the back of an empty chair, his green eyes flicking to yours for just a moment before he addressed Natasha again. “Besides, she doesn’t need a setup. She’s clearly too good for anyone in this dump.”

“I’m fine,” you insisted, taking a sip of your drink. “Seriously. I don’t need a relationship right now.”

Natasha’s eyebrows shot up. “Don’t need or don’t want?”

“Both.” The lie rolled off your tongue easily, but the weight of the unspoken truth settled in your chest. It wasn’t that you didn’t want a relationship. You just didn’t want one with anyone who wasn’t Jake Seresin. Not that you’d ever admit that out loud.

“Sure,” Natasha drawled, clearly unconvinced. 

“What about that guy over there?” Payback’s girlfriend suggested, nodding toward a tall man leaning against the bar. He was handsome, you supposed, but his eager smile didn’t stir anything in you.

“No, I don’t think so,” you said quickly.

“Okay fine, let’s figure out what you’re looking for. What is your type?” Natasha pressed, leaning in with a grin that told you she wasn’t going to drop this anytime soon.

“I don’t have a type.”

“Everyone has a type,” Mickey chimed in, his tone far too amused for your liking. “Dark hair? Light hair?”

“Light hair,” you muttered before you could stop yourself.

“Tall or short?” Natasha asked, clearly enjoying herself.

“Tall.”

“How tall?”

“I don’t know,” you said, your voice rising slightly in exasperation. “Six feet? Six-one, maybe?”

Natasha grinned, a mischievous glint in her eye. “Anything else? Beard? No beard? Tattoos? Come on, give us something!”

You hesitated, suddenly very aware of Jake still leaning casually nearby, listening to every word. “I don’t know. Tall. Hot. In a Stetson?”

The table burst into laughter, but Jake rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “Yeah, good luck finding a cowboy here. Closest you’ll get is someone in boots and a flannel at line-dancing night.”

His tone was teasing, but there was an edge to it, something you couldn’t quite place. Before you could overthink it, Natasha leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “You know, he’s not wrong, but maybe you should branch out. Broaden your horizons a little.”

You shook your head, brushing her off with a laugh. “I’m fine, really. No setups needed.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Phoenix said, clearly not convinced. “We’ll see.”

Jake’s smirk returned as he straightened up, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than usual before he turned to head back to the pool table.

“Good luck, ladies,” he called over his shoulder.

You watched him go, trying not to let your eyes linger too long. If only they knew the cowboy you wanted wasn’t some hypothetical stranger—it was the one person you couldn’t have. Not that it mattered, you reminded yourself. Jake Seresin didn’t do relationships. And you? You didn’t do casual. It was better this way. At least, that’s what you kept telling yourself.

The night carried on, the crowd at The Hard Deck growing as more people trickled in, filling the space with laughter and music. You were mid-conversation with Phoenix and one of the guys' girlfriends, your drink in hand, when the first guy approached.

He wasn’t bad-looking—dark hair, decent smile—but you could tell right away he wasn’t your type. And the way he glanced over at Natasha before walking up only confirmed your suspicions.

“Hey,” he started, a little too confident. “Can I buy you another drink?”

You smiled politely, shaking your head. “Thanks, but I’m good.”

He lingered for a second longer than necessary, clearly waiting for you to change your mind. When you didn’t, he shrugged, muttered something under his breath, and walked away.

The moment he was out of earshot, Phoenix grinned. “What was wrong with that one?”

You gave her a look. “He wasn’t my type.”

“You’ve got to stop using that excuse,” she teased. “We’re just trying to help you out.”

“I don’t need help,” you said firmly, though your tone stayed light. “I’m not looking for anything right now.”

The other woman smirked knowingly. “Sure you’re not.”

Over the next hour, two more guys approached you. Each time, you managed to slip away gracefully, making it clear you weren’t interested without causing a scene. Still, you couldn’t shake the feeling that Natasha—or maybe one of the other girlfriends—was behind it.

By the third attempt, you shot Phoenix a pointed look. “Seriously?”

“What?” she said innocently, but her smile gave her away.

You sighed, shaking your head. “You’re relentless, you know that?”

“It’s because I care,” she said sweetly, raising her glass in mock toast.

Jake chose that moment to stroll over, his timing impeccable as always. “Everything okay over here?”

Phoenix grinned. “Oh, everything’s great. Just trying to find her the perfect man.”

Jake raised a brow, glancing between the two of you. “Perfect man, huh? Sounds like a tall order. I thought we were just going for someone to take her home tonight.”

You rolled your eyes, but before you could respond, he nodded toward your now-empty glass. “Need a refill?”

You hesitated for half a second before nodding. “Yeah. Just my usual, thanks.”

Jake gave a quick two-finger salute before heading toward the bar.

Phoenix watched him go, her expression unreadable for a moment before she turned back to you, her grin returning. “Wow. Hangman buying you a drink? That’s new.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “It’s not like that. He’s just being nice.”

“Uh-huh,” she said, clearly unconvinced.

One of the guys at the table chimed in, smirking. “Yeah, he’s real nice, isn’t he? You know he’s from Texas. Could probably pull off that cowboy look you’ve been fantasizing about.”

“Oh, come on,” you said, rolling your eyes again. “It’s Jake. He’s not trying to get in my pants.”

“That’s what they all say,” Bob joked, earning a round of laughter from the group.

Jake returned a moment later, handing you your drink with a small, knowing smile. “Here you go.”

“Thanks,” you said, brushing off the teasing from the others as you took a sip.

You couldn’t help but notice the way Jake’s gaze lingered on you for a fraction of a second longer than necessary before he turned back toward the pool table. And despite everything, you couldn’t stop your heart from skipping a beat.

The hours slipped by, the bar gradually thinning out as the night wore on. You’d lost count of how many rounds of pool Jake had won or how many times Phoenix had tried to steer a random guy in your direction. 

Despite it all, you’d actually had fun, laughing and teasing the squad like always. But now, your head felt a little too light, and your body a little too warm from the alcohol.

You glanced at your phone, noting the time. “Alright, I think I’m calling it,” you announced, sliding off your barstool.

Most of the group groaned in protest, but you waved them off. “Some of us have to be functioning humans tomorrow.”

“You sure you’re good?” Natasha asked, her sharp gaze flicking over you like she was scanning for cracks.

“Yeah, yeah,” you assured her, pulling on your jacket. “I’m fine. Just tired.”

But as you turned toward the door, your balance wavered slightly, the ground tilting just enough to make you grab the back of your stool for support. No one else seemed to notice, but Jake did.

You didn’t even realize he’d followed you outside until you felt the cool night air and heard his voice behind you. “You sure you’re good to get home?”

Startled, you turned to face him, pulling your jacket tighter around yourself. “Yeah, I’m fine. I’m getting an Uber.”

Jake’s expression darkened slightly, his hands settling on his hips. “An Uber? You’re telling me you’re gonna get into a car with some random guy you don’t know and let him take you home?”

You raised a brow, amused by his sudden concern. “Yes, Jake. That’s how Uber works.”

He didn’t laugh. Instead, he studied you for a moment, his jaw working like he was turning over a decision in his head. 

“I don’t like it,” he said finally. “Come on, let me drive you home.”

You crossed your arms, giving him a skeptical look. “Please tell me they didn’t convince you to try and ask me out too.”

Jake let out a sharp laugh, shaking his head. “No. This isn’t a setup. I’m just being your friend.”

You squinted at him, trying to gauge his sincerity. “You sure about that?”

“Promise,” he said, holding up his hands like he was swearing an oath. “Scout’s honor.”

You hesitated, the stubborn part of you tempted to insist you didn’t need help. But the truth was, the idea of being in a car with Jake felt a hell of a lot safer—and less awkward—than riding home with a stranger.

“Alright,” you relented, sighing. “But if this is some elaborate scheme to get me to admit I like you or something, I’m going to be really annoyed.”

Jake grinned, gesturing toward the parking lot. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get you home before you overthink this to death.”

The drive home was quiet at first, Jake’s truck rumbling softly as it cut through the stillness of the night. You leaned back in the passenger seat, the cool air from the open window doing wonders to clear your head. Jake glanced at you occasionally, his hands loose on the wheel but his focus unwavering.

“You gonna tell me what that was all about back there?” he asked finally, breaking the silence.

You turned to him, your brows furrowing. “What what was all about?”

“Natasha and the girls,” he clarified. “Trying to set you up like it’s a speed dating event.”

You groaned, letting your head fall back against the seat. “Oh, that. Yeah, I don’t know what got into them. They’re convinced I’ve been single for too long.”

Jake smirked. “And what? You just let them keep at it?”

“I didn’t exactly have a choice,” you said with a laugh. “Trust me, I tried shutting it down, but Nat can be very persuasive. Plus, I think she roped in some of the girlfriends for backup.”

He nodded, his gaze flicking between you and the road. “So... are you looking?”

You blinked at him, caught off guard by the question. “Looking?”

“For someone,” he said casually, though there was a hint of something else in his tone—curiosity, maybe.

You hesitated, trying to find the right words. “Not really,” you admitted. “I mean, it’s not that I’m against the idea, but I’m not actively looking for anyone either. And definitely not the way they’re going about it.”

Jake chuckled, his smile pulling up on one side. “Fair enough.”

He was quiet for a moment, the hum of the truck filling the space between you. Then, almost hesitantly, he said, “You know, I think Coyote might know a guy on one of the boats—he’s from Kansas or something. Probably got that farmer-cowboy look you’re into.”

You couldn’t help but smile, his attempt at helpfulness both endearing and a little amusing. “That’s sweet, Jake, but I really don’t think I’m looking for a farmer or a cowboy—or anyone, for that matter.”

Jake glanced at you briefly, his lips curving into a small smile. “Yeah, I figured as much.”

“Why’d you bring it up, then?” you asked, tilting your head to study him.

He shrugged, his eyes on the road. “Just thought you might like to know your options.”

“Thanks,” you said softly, your smile lingering. “But I think I’m okay with where I am right now. I'll find someone eventually.”

Jake nodded, the conversation settling into a comfortable lull as he turned onto your street.

The glow of the streetlights flickered against the windows of Jake’s truck as he slowed to a stop in front of your apartment building. You unbuckled your seatbelt, your phone buzzing against your thigh just as you reached for the door handle.

Pulling it out, you glanced at the screen. A message from your roommate lit up the display: Just a heads-up—I’ve got company tonight. Might want to keep the earbuds handy 😉

You groaned audibly, letting your head fall back against the seat with a dramatic thud.

Jake shot you a curious glance, his brow lifting. “What’s wrong?”

You waved your phone in his direction with a weary sigh. “Roommate’s got a guy over. And from the sound of it, I’m going to need noise-canceling headphones or a place to sleep that isn’t directly next to her room.”

Jake chuckled, his teeth flashing in the dim light. “Sounds like it’s going to be a rough night for you, huh?”

“You have no idea,” you muttered, reaching for the door again.

Before you could hop out, Jake’s voice stopped you. “You don’t have to go in, you know.”

You turned to him, your hand frozen on the handle. “What do you mean?”

He shrugged, his gaze soft but steady as it met yours. “I mean, if you don’t feel like dealing with... that,” he gestured vaguely toward your phone, “you can come crash at my place. It’s quiet, and I’ve got a couch you can take over if you’re not ready to head home yet.”

You hesitated, your fingers idly tracing the edge of your phone. Spending more time with Jake wasn’t exactly going to help your unspoken crush, but the alternative—trying to sleep through your roommate’s extracurricular activities—was far less appealing.

“Are you sure?” you asked, your voice laced with doubt. “I don’t want to impose or anything.”

Jake rolled his eyes, a crooked smile pulling at his lips. “You wouldn’t be. Besides, what kind of friend would I be if I let you suffer through that?”

The word friend grounded you, loosening the knot of uncertainty in your chest. You smiled softly, nodding your agreement. “Alright, Seresin. But if you don’t have coffee in the morning, I’m going to rethink our so-called friendship.”

Jake laughed, the sound warm and low as he shifted the truck back into drive. “Don’t worry, darlin’. I’ll even make you breakfast if you’re lucky.”

Jake unlocked the door to his apartment and stepped aside to let you in first. The place was clean but lived-in—soft lighting, a comfortable couch, a TV mounted on the wall, and just a few hints of his personality scattered throughout: a Navy ball cap tossed on the entryway table, framed photos of his family, and what looked like a pair of cowboy boots sitting by the door.

“Make yourself at home,” he said, flicking on the lights and heading toward the kitchen. “Want a beer?”

You nodded, shrugging off your jacket and folding it over the back of a chair before settling onto the couch. “Thanks, Jake.”

He returned a moment later, two beers in hand. Passing one to you, he dropped onto the couch beside you, his long legs stretched out in front of him. You took a sip, the cold drink soothing against the warmth still lingering on your cheeks from the night’s events.

Jake leaned back, his arm casually draping over the back of the couch. “So,” he started, his tone playful, “what was that whole ‘tall, hot, in a Stetson’ thing earlier really about? Got a cowboy crush I don’t know about?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “It’s just a preference.”

He tilted his head, a mischievous grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Uh-huh. You sure about that? Because it kind of sounded like you were describing someone I know.”

Your brow furrowed as you turned to look at him, confused. “What are you talking about?”

Jake’s grin widened. “Tall? Blonde? Hot? I mean, you might as well have just said my name.”

You rolled your eyes, but you could feel the heat creeping up your neck. “Oh, please. You’re so full of yourself, Seresin.”

Jake’s gaze flicked to your face, his sharp eyes catching the faint blush blooming across your cheeks. His grin softened into something more thoughtful. “Wait a second,” he said, leaning forward slightly. “You’re blushing.”

“No, I’m not,” you said quickly, shaking your head and avoiding his gaze.

“Oh, you definitely are,” he teased, his voice low and amused. “Tell me—do you have a little crush on me?”

You scoffed, your heart racing as you tried to deflect. “What are we, in middle school?”

Jake chuckled, but his expression didn’t shift. He studied you for a moment, the playful glint in his eyes fading into something quieter, more serious. “You didn’t answer the question.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could come up with a denial, Jake leaned in closer, the space between you narrowing. His lips hovered close to yours, close enough that you could feel his breath ghosting against your skin.

“Jake,” you murmured, your voice barely audible over the pounding in your chest, “what are you doing?”

His eyes locked with yours, intense and unwavering. “I’m kissing you,” he said, his voice low and steady, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Unless you tell me to stop.”

“Jake…we…we can’t.”

“You know,” he murmured, his voice soft but firm, “one kiss probably won’t ruin the friendship, right?”

Your breath caught, but you didn’t move away. Instead, you sat there, frozen as the space between you vanished. When his lips finally touched yours, it was soft at first—almost tentative, like he was giving you the chance to change your mind.

But you didn’t.

Jake’s hand came up, his fingers brushing along your jaw before cupping your face. His touch was firm yet gentle, anchoring you in place as the kiss deepened. His lips moved against yours, confident and unhurried, like he’d been waiting for this moment and was determined to savor every second of it.

Your hand found its way to his chest, the firm muscle beneath his shirt making your pulse race even faster. You felt him exhale, a soft, pleased sound escaping him as your fingers curled into the fabric. Without even thinking, you shifted closer, your body leaning into his as the kiss grew more heated.

Jake pulled back for the briefest moment, just enough to catch his breath, his thumb brushing across your cheek as he looked at you. His eyes were darker now, filled with something that made your stomach flip. 

“You’re killing me, darlin’,” he murmured, his Texas drawl thicker than usual.

You didn’t give yourself time to overthink it. Fueled by a mixture of nerves and adrenaline, you swung a leg over his, settling yourself onto his lap. Jake froze for half a heartbeat before his hands found your waist, his grip firm and grounding.

You reached up, your fingers threading your fingers into the hair at the back of his head, your nails grazing lightly against his scalp as you leaned in and kissed him again. Jake groaned softly, the sound rumbling through his chest as his hands tightened on your waist, pulling you closer.

The kiss turned fervent, all soft restraint melting away as your bodies pressed together. Jake’s lips were hot and insistent, his teeth grazing your bottom lip before he tilted his head, deepening the kiss further. Your fingers fisted in his hair, his skin warm beneath your touch as his hands began to roam, sliding from your waist to your hips, holding you securely in his lap.

Your heart was racing, your senses overwhelmed by the feel of him, the way he kissed you like he couldn’t get enough. Every brush of his lips, every press of his hands against you, made you feel like you were burning from the inside out.

When you finally pulled back, gasping for air, Jake’s forehead rested against yours, his breathing uneven. His hands stayed on your hips, his thumbs brushing idly against the fabric of your shirt. 

You then reached down and started to tug at the hem of your shirt, but he reach out and caught your wrists, halting you.

“Whoa, hold up,” he said, his voice low but firm.

You pulled back slightly, confused, your gaze searching his. His hands stayed on your wrists, gentle but unyielding. 

“What?” you asked, blinking at him as your pulse raced.

Jake’s lips twitched into a small smile, but his expression was serious. “I’m not doing this. Not yet.”

You frowned, sitting back on his lap, your legs still straddling him. “You’re not doing what?”

“This,” he said, gesturing vaguely between the two of you. “I want to buy you dinner first.”

You stared at him, completely dumbfounded. “Dinner? Like a date?”

Jake nodded, his hands resting lightly on your hips now.

It took a moment for the words to sink in, and when they did, you couldn’t stop the incredulous laugh that escaped you. “Jake, you don’t do dates. Or dinners. Or follow any kind of rules when it comes to sleeping with women. What’s changed.”

Jake chuckled, but there was a sincerity in his gaze that made your stomach flutter. “You’re not just some hookup for me,” he admitted, his voice soft. “I want to do this right with you.”

Your mouth opened to respond, but no words came out. You weren’t used to seeing Jake like this—so earnest, so serious. The guy who flirted shamelessly, who rarely stuck around for more than a night, was now telling you he wanted to take you on a proper date before anything happened between you.

“You know,” you said after a beat, your tone teasing but your heart pounding, “you did technically buy me a round earlier at the bar.”

Jake shook his head, a small smirk playing on his lips. “Nice try, darlin’. A beer doesn’t count as dinner.”

You sighed dramatically, leaning back slightly and crossing your arms over your chest. “Jake, it’s late. It’s literally Christmas Eve. Nowhere that you would deem worthy of our first date is going to be open.”

Jake laughed, his hands still resting on your hips. “Guess we’ll have to wait then.”

“Or,” you said, sitting up straighter, an idea forming in your mind, “you can give me your phone.”

Jake raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “Why?”

“Just trust me,” you said, holding out your hand.

He hesitated for a moment before sighing and reaching into his pocket to hand it over. You unlocked the screen, your fingers moving quickly as you opened the Uber Eats app.

Jake leaned forward slightly, peering over your shoulder. “What are you doing?”

“Ordering dinner,” you said simply, scrolling through the options for one of the few places still open this late on Christmas Eve.

Jake watched as you added something to the cart, then handed the phone back to him. “Go ahead, pick something for yourself.”

Still looking slightly bewildered, Jake glanced down at the screen, his brow furrowing as he scanned the menu. “You’re serious?”

“Dead serious,” you said, smirking at him. 

Jake sighed, clearly still confused, but he added an item to the order and placed it. As soon as the confirmation screen popped up, he turned to you, shaking his head. “All right, now you’ve got to tell me—what was the point of all that?”

You grinned, leaning forward slightly so your face was inches from his. “Because now you’ve technically bought me dinner,” you said, your tone teasing but your eyes locked on his.

Jake stared at you for a moment, then threw his head back with a laugh. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

“Maybe,” you said, your voice dropping to a softer, more serious tone. “But now that you’ve fulfilled your ‘dinner first’ rule, are you going to fuck me or not?”

Jake’s laughter died down, replaced by a look that made your stomach flip. His hands tightened slightly on your hips as his gaze darkened, his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip. 

“You’re something else,” he murmured, his voice low and rough. “But if we’re doing this, darlin’, we’re doing it my way.”

You tilted your head, eyeing him curiously. “Your way, huh?” you teased, the corner of your lips quirking up. “And what exactly does your way mean?”

Jake didn’t answer immediately. Instead, his hands tightened on your hips, and before you could even process what was happening, he stood up with you still straddling his lap.

“Jake!” you yelped, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck for balance as he stood effortlessly, holding you against him like you weighed nothing.

He grinned down at you, completely unfazed by your reaction, and started walking down the hallway. “First rule,” he drawled, his voice low and steady, “your first time with me is not going to be on my couch.”

You blinked, heat rising to your cheeks as his words sank in. “Oh,” you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jake chuckled, the sound rumbling deep in his chest as he carried you with ease, the hallway narrowing around you. “You deserve better than that, darlin’,” he continued, his tone softening slightly. “So, my way means I’m going to take my time with you. Do it right, starting with getting you on a bed.”

You swallowed hard, your heart hammering in your chest. The way he was looking at you—like you were the only thing that mattered in the world—was enough to leave you breathless.

When he reached the door at the end of the hall, Jake shifted you slightly in his arms so he could turn the handle, nudging the door open with his foot. The room beyond was dimly lit, the soft glow of a bedside lamp casting warm shadows across the space.

Jake stepped inside, kicking the door shut behind him with a soft thud. He finally set you down, your feet touching the plush carpet, but his hands didn’t leave your waist.

You glanced around, your nerves and excitement battling for dominance. “So…what’s the second rule?” you asked, trying to sound casual but failing miserably as your voice wavered.

Jake’s lips quirked into a smirk as he leaned down, his face so close to yours that his breath fanned across your skin. 

“The second rule,” he murmured, his voice a low rasp, “is that I’m going to make sure you enjoy every second of this.”

Your breath hitched, your hands sliding up his chest almost instinctively. “That’s…a pretty good rule,” you managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jake’s smirk widened as his hands slid from your waist to your hips, pulling you flush against him. “Good,” he said, his tone teasing but his eyes dark with intent. “Because I don’t break my own rules.”

With that, he leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was slow and deliberate, a stark contrast to the heated kisses you’d shared earlier. His hands roamed your back, his touch firm but careful, like he was savoring every moment.

You melted into him, your arms looping around his neck as the kiss deepened. His tongue slid against yours, drawing a soft whimper from you that only seemed to spur him on.

His hands moved to the hem of your shirt, his fingers brushing against the bare skin of your waist. But instead of rushing to remove it quickly, he took his time, his touch reverent as he pushed the fabric up inch by inch.

You broke the kiss for just a moment, your breath coming in soft pants as you let him pull your shirt over your head. His gaze raked over you, his eyes darkening as he took you in.

“Goddamn,” Jake murmured, his voice husky. “You’re beautiful.”

Heat flooded your cheeks, but before you could respond, he was kissing you again, his hands sliding up your back and pulling you closer.

Jake’s lips broke away from yours, his breath warm against your skin as he pressed a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth. Slowly, he trailed his kisses along your jaw, the gentle scrape of his stubble sending shivers down your spine. His lips moved lower, finding the sensitive curve of your neck.

At first, the kisses were light, teasing. But then he began sucking and biting softly, testing different spots until he hit the one that made your head fall back with a soft gasp, your fingers tightening in the hair at the nape of his neck.

The sound you made—the small, unrestrained moan that escaped your lips—had Jake pausing for the briefest moment before he let out a low groan of his own, his mouth returning to the same spot with renewed focus. This time, he nipped a little harder, drawing another reaction out of you.

“Jake,” you warned softly, your breath hitching as you tugged at his hair. “Don’t leave a mark.”

You felt his lips curve into a smirk against your neck. 

“Why not?” he murmured, his voice low and teasing as his teeth grazed your skin. Before you could answer, he added in a quiet whisper, “I kinda like the idea of everyone knowing you’re my girl.”

That pulled your head up, and you gave him a look, arching a brow. “Your girl, huh?”

Jake didn’t miss a beat, his green eyes locking onto yours as he leaned in close, his lips brushing just below your ear. “My girl,” he repeated, his voice filled with a confidence that made your heart race.

You barely had time to process his words before his mouth was back on your skin, moving lower this time. He kissed along your collarbone, his lips pressing against every inch of exposed skin, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

When he reached the strap of your bra, his fingers deftly reached around your back. With a practiced ease that had you smirking slightly, he unclasped it. He pulled back just enough to slide the straps down your arms, his hands warm and firm against your skin as he discarded the lacey fabric to the floor.

Jake’s gaze dropped, and his lips parted slightly as his eyes roamed over you. For a moment, he said nothing, his expression somewhere between awe and hunger. Then, a slow grin spread across his face.

“This is what you wore to the bar?” he asked, his voice playful but edged with disbelief.

You blushed, rolling your eyes even as you smiled. “It’s laundry day,” you mumbled. “All the comfy stuff was in the wash.”

Jake chuckled, his hands sliding up your sides to rest just below your chest. “Laundry day, huh?” 

“Yes, why? Do you have a problem with my choice of undergarments?”

“Not exactly,” he teased, his grin widening. “But that…is way too sexy for just a casual night out with friends.”

His thumb brushed just below the curve of your breast, sending a spark of warmth straight through you.

You rolled your eyes again, but the heat in your cheeks betrayed you. “It’s just a bra, Jake,” you muttered, though your voice wavered slightly.

He didn’t respond, at least not with words. Instead, he leaned forward, his mouth finding the soft skin of your chest. His lips were warm and gentle, kissing along the swell of your breast before his tongue flicked against your skin.

Your breath hitched, and Jake’s hands shifted to your hips, holding you firmly in place as he continued. He pressed open-mouthed kisses to your skin, his lips and tongue working in tandem to explore every inch. When he finally reached your nipple, his mouth closed around it, drawing a soft moan from you that only seemed to spur him on.

His hands tightened on your hips as his other hand slid up, cupping your other breast and giving it the same attention. Jake groaned softly against your skin, clearly enjoying himself, and the sound sent a shiver through you.

Jake pulled back for a moment, just enough to glance up at you with a wicked grin. “You’ve been holding out on me,” he teased, his voice low and rough. “Didn’t know you were hiding these under all those sweaters and jackets.”

You let out a breathless laugh, your fingers sliding into his hair. “Shut up, Jake,” you muttered, pulling him back to you.

He laughed softly but didn’t argue, his mouth returning to your chest with renewed enthusiasm. Jake Seresin might have had a reputation for being cocky and playful, but in this moment, he was focused, almost reverent, as if he couldn’t get enough of you.

Jake's lips were still warm against your skin, his tongue flicking over the same sensitive spot on your chest that had you squirming against him, when a sudden thought crossed your mind. You realized how uneven the situation was—your bra was already on the floor, and yet here he was, still fully dressed.

Not one to let such an imbalance slide, you tugged at the hem of his shirt. Jake pulled back, his green eyes flicking to yours in question, his mouth curving into a smug smile when he caught on.

You rolled your eyes but didn’t respond, simply giving the fabric another tug. Jake let out a quiet laugh, sitting up slightly so he could pull the shirt over his head. The movement was so fluid, so effortless, that it was almost infuriating. And when he tossed the shirt aside, your mouth went dry.

Your eyes trailed over him slowly, taking in the broad expanse of his chest, the defined lines of his abs, and the way his skin seemed to glow under the dim light of his apartment. You’d known Jake Seresin was fit—anyone could tell just by looking at him—but this? This was something else entirely.

Your hands moved instinctively, sliding over the hard planes of his chest, the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips making your pulse race. You traced the subtle curve of his muscles, your thumb brushing over a faint scar just below his collarbone, and you couldn’t help but let out a soft, disbelieving laugh.

Jake caught the sound, his brow lifting as he smirked. “What’s so funny, darlin’?”

You shook your head, trying to find the words but failing. Instead, you blurted, “You’re not real.”

That caught him off guard, and he chuckled, the sound deep and rumbling in his chest. “Not real, huh?”

You gestured vaguely at him, your hands hovering just above his abs. “Nobody looks like this in real life. I mean… how? Do you, like, live in the gym or something?”

Jake laughed again, clearly amused by your reaction. He leaned back slightly, his hands resting on your thighs as he regarded you with a playful gleam in his eyes. “It’s all just good genetics, sweetheart,” he drawled, his smirk widening. “But if you wanna keep admiring, don’t let me stop you.”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help the blush creeping into your cheeks. “Cocky,” you muttered, though your hands betrayed you by continuing their exploration, tracing the ridges of his muscles like you were committing them to memory.

“Confident,” Jake corrected, leaning forward again so that his face was just inches from yours. “And besides…” His lips brushed lightly against your jaw, his voice dropping to a low whisper. “You’re not exactly keeping your hands to yourself, darlin’.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, your blush deepening as his teasing smirk only grew wider. His confidence was maddening, but it also sent a rush of heat through you that you couldn’t ignore. Finally, you huffed and muttered, “You talk too much.”

Jake tilted his head, his smirk softening into something more mischievous. “Yeah? What are you gonna do about it?”

Without missing a beat, you leaned in close, your breath brushing against his lips as you whispered, “Shut up and kiss me, Seresin.”

His eyes darkened at your words, the playful light in them replaced with something deeper, hungrier. He didn’t hesitate. His hand slid up to cup the back of your neck as he closed the distance between you, his lips crashing against yours.

His hand at your neck tilted your head just enough to deepen the kiss, while his other hand tightened its grip on your waist, pulling you closer until there wasn’t an inch of space left between your bodies.

You melted into him, your hands sliding up his chest and over his shoulders, your fingers tangling in the short hair at the back of his head. When he nipped at your bottom lip, your soft gasp gave him the perfect opening, and his tongue swept into your mouth, stealing whatever clever retort you might have had.

Jake broke the kiss just long enough to guide you backward. His strong hands shifted to your hips as he maneuvered you gently, lowering you onto the bed as if you weighed nothing. His lips found yours again before your head even hit the pillow, his body following as he braced himself over you, one forearm resting beside your head while his other hand remained at your waist.

The bed dipped slightly under your combined weight, and you felt the cool sheets against your back, a stark contrast to the heat radiating between you and Jake. His kisses grew slower, deeper, his mouth moving over yours in a way that made your toes curl. His free hand slid up your side, leaving a trail of fire in its wake as it found your cheek, tilting your face toward his for better access.

You couldn’t think, couldn’t speak—all you could do was feel. The warmth of his body, the intoxicating way he kissed you, the steady weight of him pressing you into the mattress—it was overwhelming in the best way.

Jake finally pulled back, just enough to look down at you, his lips red and swollen, his chest rising and falling with uneven breaths. His gaze was molten as it roamed over your face, lingering on your kiss-bruised lips before meeting your eyes.

“You’re something else,” he murmured, his voice low and husky. His thumb brushed gently over your cheek, and his lips quirked into a softer, almost reverent smile. “You know that?”

Your heart pounded in your chest as you stared up at him, the sincerity in his expression taking your breath away all over again. You swallowed hard, trying to find your voice, but all that came out was a whisper. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

Jake’s lips hovered above yours, his breath warm against your skin, but his hands began to move, dragging your focus away from the way his mouth made you feel and to the steady path his fingers were tracing. They slid down your sides with a deliberate slowness, his thumbs brushing teasingly over your hips before they stopped at the waistband of your jeans.

He shifted back just slightly, his hands working to pop the button open and tug the zipper down. His green eyes flicked up to meet yours, and the spark of mischief in them sent a jolt of anticipation straight through you. “Lift your hips for me, sweetheart.”

You did as he asked, and he made quick work of guiding your jeans down your legs, his fingers grazing your skin in a way that left goosebumps in their wake. The denim hit the floor, and Jake’s gaze swept over you, lingering when he noticed the lacy underwear that matched the bra he’d already discarded.

A slow smirk spread across his face, the kind that made your stomach flip and your cheeks flush. “Now this,” he said, his voice dripping with that signature cockiness, “is a sight I could get used to.”

His fingers hooked into the waistband of your underwear, and with one smooth motion, he slid them down your legs and discarded them on the floor beside your jeans. His hands returned to your thighs, his touch featherlight as he traced patterns over your skin. 

“From now on,” he murmured, leaning in to press a kiss to the inside of your knee, “you only wear these for me. Got it?”

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head at the sheer audacity of the man in front of you. “And what makes you think this will be more than a one-time thing,” you challenged, raising an eyebrow.

Jake didn’t even blink at your question. Instead, he leaned back slightly, resting his weight on his knees as his hands slid higher up your thighs. “Because you don’t do casual,” he said, his tone matter-of-fact. His hands stilled just shy of where you wanted them, his thumbs brushing agonizingly close to the heat pooling between your legs. “You don’t do one-night hookups.”

His words were confident, but then that cocky grin returned, and he leaned down just enough that his lips hovered above your skin. His thumb trailed teasingly over your inner thigh, not quite touching you where you needed him most, and it was maddening.

“And because,” he continued, his voice low and teasing, “I’ve barely touched you, and you’re already trying to get more.” His thumb brushed a little closer this time, still not quite enough, and the sharp intake of breath you let out didn’t escape his notice.

Your hips tilted up instinctively, desperate for more contact, but Jake pulled his hand back just slightly, his grin widening as he caught your movement.

“See what I mean?” he teased, his voice dripping with that infuriating self-assurance. “One night’s not gonna be enough for you, sweetheart. You won’t be able to get enough of me.”

Jake’s smirk deepened as he continued his slow, agonizing teasing, his fingers dancing closer and closer to where you needed him.

“Patience, sweetheart,” he drawled, his green eyes glinting with amusement as he leaned down to press a kiss to the curve of your hip. “Good things come to those who wait.”

Your head fell back against the pillows, a frustrated groan slipping from your lips. You felt like you were about to combust, every nerve ending on fire as Jake toyed with you like it was some kind of game. The worst part? He knew exactly what he was doing.

“Jake,” you started, your voice laced with exasperation as you lifted your head to glare at him. “I swear to God—”

Before you could finish your sentence, his fingers finally moved, pressing against you in just the right spot. The sudden surge of pleasure ripped the words right from your throat, replacing them with a sharp, breathy moan that had Jake’s grin widening in satisfaction.

“That’s more like it,” he murmured, his voice low and smug as his fingers began working in slow, deliberate circles, coaxing another soft sound from your lips. “Knew you’d sound pretty, but damn, sweetheart, I didn’t think you’d sound this good.”

Your hands fisted the sheets beside you, your back arching slightly off the bed as the pressure built, wave after wave crashing over you with every precise movement of his hand. “Jake…” His name came out like a plea, your voice trembling as you tried to catch your breath.

He leaned down, his lips brushing the shell of your ear as he whispered, “I’ve got you, darlin’. Just let me take care of you.”

His free hand slid up your side, his thumb brushing along your ribs in a soothing gesture that contrasted sharply with the fire he was setting off with every calculated touch. Your hips tilted toward him, desperate for more, and Jake was quick to oblige, his fingers pressing harder, moving faster, drawing out the kind of pleasure that had your head spinning and your thoughts unraveling.

The tension coiled tighter and tighter inside you, and just when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, Jake shifted slightly, his lips finding yours in a kiss that was every bit as intoxicating as the way his hands worked your body. It was messy and consuming, his tongue brushing against yours in a rhythm that matched the movements of his fingers, as if he was determined to pull every last sound from your lips.

When you finally broke apart, gasping for air, your forehead pressed against his, your fingers gripping his biceps for support. He didn’t stop, though, his lips trailing down your jaw, over your neck, and back to the spot on your collarbone that had you shivering.

“You doing okay there, sweetheart?” he teased, his breath warm against your skin as he chuckled softly. “Seem a little… speechless.”

Jake’s fingers slowed just enough to pull you back from the edge, leaving you breathless and trembling beneath him. A frustrated whimper escaped your lips, and you opened your mouth to protest, but before you could, his lips were at your ear, his voice dropping to a husky whisper.

“Tell me, sweetheart,” he murmured, the heat of his breath against your skin sending a shiver down your spine. “Have you ever thought about this before? About me? About my hands on you like this?”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, and you could feel your face heat, your body betraying you as a rush of arousal coursed through you. Of course, you’d thought about it. You’d thought about it far more times than you cared to admit, in moments you’d never expected and in ways that had left you wondering what it would feel like to have Jake Seresin in this exact position.

But you weren’t about to tell him that.

“No,” you managed to say, though the breathiness of your voice betrayed your attempt at indifference.

Jake chuckled low, the sound vibrating against your skin as he pressed a kiss just below your ear. His fingers started moving again, slow and deliberate, building that fire inside you all over again. “Liar,” he whispered, his tone dripping with confidence.

Your breath hitched as his hand worked you over with maddening precision, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “I think you’ve thought about this a lot,” he continued, his voice soft but insistent, like a secret he was unraveling. “About me touching you like this. About me kissing you. About me making you fall apart.”

Your hips bucked against his hand involuntarily, a quiet gasp slipping from your lips. Jake’s smirk was audible in his next words. “That’s what I thought,” he murmured.

“Jake…” you warned, though the word lacked any real heat, your voice shaking as he pushed you closer to the edge again.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he urged, his voice still low and intimate, as if the moment was just for the two of you. “Tell me the truth. You’ve thought about it, haven’t you?”

You bit your lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction of an answer, but your body told a different story, arching into his touch, chasing the release he kept pulling just out of reach.

“Still not talking, huh?” he teased, his lips ghosting over your neck. “That’s okay. I think I already know the answer.”

You let out a frustrated groan, your head falling back against the pillow as Jake’s fingers slowed again, denying you the release you so desperately craved.

“Jake, I swear to God—”

“Say the word,” he whispered, his voice dark and tempting. “Say you want this. Say you want me.”

Your resolve crumbled under the weight of his touch, your breath coming in shallow gasps as the teasing rhythm of his fingers sent waves of pleasure coursing through you. You couldn’t take it anymore, the denial of release driving you mad.

“Fine,” you blurted out, your voice a mix of desperation and surrender. “I’ve thought about it. About you. Happy now?”

Jake froze for a moment, his smirk widening as he absorbed your confession, his ego clearly basking in your words. “Damn right I am,” he drawled, his tone as smug as ever. His fingers picked up their pace again, but this time with a newfound determination, his touch deliberate and calculated as he pushed you closer to the edge once more.

“Have you thought about my hands doing this?” he murmured, shifting his hand ever so slightly, his movements slow and precise as he watched your reaction.

Your body arched involuntarily, a strangled moan escaping your lips. You couldn’t lie even if you wanted to.

He chuckled, his lips brushing against your neck as he continued. “Or maybe this?” He changed the angle of his touch again, his fingers finding just the right spot that had you gasping, your nails digging into his shoulders.

“Jake,” you panted, your voice trembling with need, but he wasn’t done yet.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he pressed, his tone both teasing and possessive. 

“How many nights have you thought about this? About me making you feel this good?”

You let out a whimper, the pressure inside you building to an unbearable intensity. “Please, Jake,” you finally begged, your voice cracking as you tilted your hips toward his hand, desperate for the release he was holding just out of reach.

“Please, what?” he whispered, his voice dark and enticing.

“Please, just—”

Before you could finish, he gave you exactly what you needed, his fingers working you over with perfect precision, sending you hurtling over the edge. A cry tore from your lips as the tension snapped, your body trembling under the overwhelming wave of pleasure.

Jake didn’t stop, his hand staying steady as he guided you through your release, murmuring soft praises in your ear.

“That’s it, baby,” he said, his voice softer now, the teasing replaced with something more intimate, more sincere. “Let go. I’ve got you.”

Your hands clutched at him as you rode out the high, your breathing ragged and uneven as he slowed his movements, easing you back down. His free hand caressed your side, grounding you as you came back to yourself.

“You okay, sweetheart?”

As the intensity slowly ebbed away, you opened your eyes to find Jake watching you. The cocky smirk you'd expected wasn’t there—instead, he was looking at you with something softer, something that made your chest tighten. His hand brushed a strand of hair out of your face, his touch lingering for just a moment before pulling back. He gave you a small, almost shy smile, one that you’d never seen before.

“What?” you asked nervously, returning the smile as your heart pounded for an entirely different reason now.

Jake shook his head, the corners of his mouth lifting into something more tender than teasing. “You’re beautiful,” he said quietly, almost like he didn’t mean to say it out loud.

You blinked at him, caught completely off guard. He wasn’t grinning or smirking or full of his usual bravado—he was just Jake, looking at you like you were the only thing in the room.

Heat rose to your cheeks, and you didn’t know what to say. “Oh,” you whispered, your voice soft as his words settled over you.

The moment stretched between you, and for the first time, Jake looked away, almost as if realizing how vulnerable he’d made himself. But instead of pulling back, he leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, a gesture so tender it made your chest ache.

“Let’s get you some water,” he murmured, his voice low and warm. But as he moved to stand, his fingers brushed yours, lingering just long enough to make your heart flutter all over again.

And at that moment, you knew—this wasn’t just some casual hookup with him. You weren’t sure what it was yet, but it was more.

Jake disappeared into the walk in closet, leaving you alone in his bedroom for a moment. When he returned, he had one of his shirts in hand—soft, worn, and smelling distinctly like him. He tossed it to you with a crooked smile.

“Figured you’d be more comfortable in this,” he said before turning toward the door, giving you a bit of privacy to change.

Once you slipped into the oversized shirt, you padded out to find him in the kitchen, pulling a bottle of water from the fridge. He twisted the cap off and handed it to you as you approached.

“Thanks,” you murmured, taking a long sip.

Jake nodded toward the couch. “Come on. Sit with me.”

You followed him over, sinking into the cushion next to him, leaving a respectable amount of space between you. Jake glanced at the gap and raised an eyebrow, smirking just slightly.

“You scared of me now or something?” he teased, his voice soft but warm.

You rolled your eyes, but before you could come up with a response, Jake reached over and tugged gently at your hand, coaxing you closer. “C’mere,” he said, his tone so inviting you didn’t think to resist.

You shifted over until your thigh brushed against his, and Jake draped an arm along the back of the couch, his fingers brushing your shoulder. He didn’t push for more, didn’t try to crowd you—he just held you there, close enough to feel his warmth.

“You good?” he asked after a moment, his voice quieter now.

You nodded, leaning slightly into him. “Yeah. I’m good.”

For a while, neither of you said anything. The room was quiet except for the soft hum of the fridge in the kitchen and the occasional creak of the couch as you both shifted to get more comfortable. Eventually, you rested your head against Jake’s shoulder, and you could feel him relax beneath you, the tension in his body melting away.

This—whatever this was—felt easy. And for now, you were content to let it be.

The silence between you settled into something soft, the kind of quiet where you could hear your own thoughts but didn’t mind sharing the space with someone else. Jake absentmindedly brushed his fingers along your arm, his touch light, comforting.

But then the thought hit you, and you started to feel a twinge of guilt. Jake had gone out of his way to make sure you felt incredible, but you hadn’t done the same for him. The realization sat heavily in your chest, and before you could talk yourself out of it, you shifted slightly, sitting up to look at him.

"Hey," you said, your voice quieter than you expected.

Jake tilted his head toward you, the corners of his lips quirking up. "What’s on your mind, darlin’?"

You hesitated, chewing your bottom lip for a second. "I just... I feel bad. You—you got me to, you know, but I didn’t—"

Jake’s low laugh cut you off, his head tipping back for a moment before he looked at you again, his eyes warm and amused. "You feel bad about that?"

"Well... yeah," you admitted, your cheeks heating. You glanced away, feeling the awkwardness creep in. "I mean, do you... want me to...?" You trailed off, unable to meet his gaze.

Jake reached over and gently tipped your chin up so you had to look at him. His expression wasn’t teasing this time, but soft, almost tender.

"I don’t need you to do anything," he said, his voice steady. "Tonight was about you. I wanted to make sure you felt good. That’s enough for me."

You blinked, a little thrown by how sincere he sounded. "Really?"

He nodded, leaning back and letting his arm settle across your shoulders again. "Really," he said, the hint of a smile still tugging at his lips. "But I appreciate the offer. Makes me feel pretty special."

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the small smile that broke through. "You’re impossible."

"Yeah, but you like me anyway," he quipped, his grin widening as you shook your head and settled back against his shoulder.

The room fell into a quiet lull, the kind that was filled with comfort rather than awkwardness. Jake’s arm rested across your shoulders, his fingers lazily tracing circles along your arm. You let your head rest against him, but the words you’d been mulling over stuck in your throat.

Finally, you worked up the courage to look up at him, your voice soft, almost hesitant. "Jake?"

"Hmm?" He turned his head slightly, his green eyes meeting yours.

"Can I..." You paused, nervousness creeping in, but you pushed forward. "Can I sleep with you tonight?"

Jake’s grin spread across his face almost immediately, cocky but somehow still sweet. "Where else would you sleep?"

You shrugged, suddenly feeling shy under the weight of his gaze. "I don’t know. The couch maybe..."

Before you could finish the thought, Jake leaned in and kissed you, his lips soft and warm, pulling you right back into the ease of being with him. When he pulled away, his grin had softened into something tender, something that made your heart skip a beat.

"You can sleep with me every night," he murmured, his fingers brushing another stray piece of hair from your face.

Your lips parted, but no words came out. Instead, you just smiled, leaning into him as his arm tightened around you, pulling you closer. In that moment, the thought of waking up next to Jake every morning didn’t feel so crazy after all.

* * * *

The morning light streamed through the blinds, coaxing you awake. Your head throbbed faintly—a mild reminder of the last beer you probably shouldn’t have had. Blinking against the sunlight, you looked around, disoriented for a moment. This wasn’t your apartment.

And then it all came back. Last night. Jake bringing you home. The teasing, the kissing, the way he had pulled you close and told you that you could sleep with him every night. The memories brought a mix of warmth and guilt as you realized just how many lines of friendship you had crossed in a single evening.

Sitting up, you glanced over at the other side of the bed, half expecting Jake to still be there. But his side was empty, the covers slightly rumpled. You pushed them off and padded out of the bedroom, your bare feet cold against the hardwood.

As you stepped into the living room, you froze in place, utterly speechless at the sight before you.

Jake was lying on the floor, one arm propped up to support his head, his body stretched out lazily. He was barefoot, in jeans that fit a little too well, no shirt, and a Stetson cowboy hat perched on his head.

Your mouth opened, then closed, your brain short-circuiting. You weren’t sure whether to laugh, blush, or scold him for how ridiculous he looked—and how ridiculously good he looked at the same time.

“What,” you finally managed, “are you doing?”

Jake’s lips curved into that signature smirk of his, the one that always got him into trouble and, apparently, you as well. “What does it look like? Tall, hot, in a Stetson. Isn’t this what you wanted?”

Your jaw dropped as you remembered your flippant comment from the night before, and a laugh bubbled out of you before you could stop it. “Are you serious right now?”

He stood up in one smooth motion, the hat still perfectly in place as he strolled toward you. “I’m Texan, darlin’. Born and raised. Owning a Stetson is a right of passage.”

You shook your head, laughing harder now as he stopped in front of you. “You’re ridiculous.”

He leaned down, his green eyes twinkling with mischief. “Ridiculous enough to make you laugh this hard first thing in the morning?”

“Yeah, well…” You tried to form a witty comeback, but the way he was looking at you—half playful, half something much softer—made your words catch in your throat.

Jake’s smirk softened into a smile as he tilted his head closer. “Merry Christmas,” he murmured, his voice low and warm, before leaning in to kiss you.

And just like that, the absurdity of the morning melted away, leaving only the feel of his lips on yours and the flutter in your chest that you weren’t quite ready to name.

Jake’s hands slid to your waist, his grip firm yet gentle as he deepened the kiss. His lips moved against yours with a confidence that made your knees weak, and you swore you felt his smirk against your mouth when your hands instinctively gripped his shoulders for balance.

Without breaking the kiss, Jake’s fingers tightened slightly on your hips, and he murmured, “Jump.”

You hesitated for only a fraction of a second before doing as he asked. His hands were steady as they guided you, and your legs wrapped around his waist naturally. He held you effortlessly, the warmth of his skin against your thighs making your breath hitch.

“You’re way too good at this,” you whispered against his lips, your voice teasing but a little breathless.

Jake pulled back just enough to flash you that cocky grin you knew all too well. “Darlin’, I was born good at this.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the smile that crept onto your face. Then, just like that, he was moving, carrying you down the hallway as though you weighed nothing.

The hat was still perched on his head, slightly tilted from your movements, and you couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. “You’re seriously keeping the hat on?”

He glanced at you with a raised brow, that grin still firmly in place. “You said tall, hot, in a Stetson. I’m just giving the lady what she wants.”

“You’re unbelievable,” you muttered, but your words were swallowed by another kiss as he carried you into the bedroom.

Jake lowered you onto the bed with care, the playful edge giving way to something more deliberate, more intense, as he hovered over you. His green eyes locked on yours, and for a moment, the room felt still, the air between you charged with something electric.

“Guess that makes me your cowboy now,” he said softly, his voice low and teasing, but there was a hint of sincerity there that made your chest tighten.

And before you could respond, his lips were back on yours, and nothing else mattered.

Jake kissed you with a hunger that sent a spark straight through you. His hands slid up your thighs, the warmth of his palms setting fire to your skin as he pressed you into the mattress. The Stetson, still sitting askew on his head, was the perfect blend of ridiculous and sexy, and you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing softly against his lips.

“What’s so funny, darlin’?” he asked, his voice a low rumble that made your stomach flip.

You reached up, plucking the hat off his head, and twirled it in your fingers with a smirk. “Just trying to decide if this thing makes you hotter… or if it’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever seen.”

Jake chuckled, pulling back slightly, his weight still braced above you. “Go on then, put it on. Let’s see if you can pull it off.”

Your eyes narrowed playfully, accepting the challenge. Sliding the Stetson onto your head, you tilted it just slightly, giving him a mock-serious look. “How do I look?”

Jake’s gaze darkened instantly, his tongue swiping across his bottom lip. “Like trouble,” he drawled.

The heat in his voice sent a shiver down your spine. Emboldened by the way he was looking at you—like you were the only thing he’d ever wanted—you took a deep breath and gave his chest a small push. Jake raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued, but he rolled to his back without protest, his hands guiding you along with him until you were straddling his hips.

His smirk grew as he settled beneath you, his hands resting on your waist. “This what you had in mind?” he asked, his tone a teasing challenge.

You didn’t give him time to comment further before you rolled your hips slowly, teasing him. You reached down and grabbed the bottom of his shirt that you had slept in and quickly slid it off, leaving you completely bare. You reach for the hat that had been knocked off and carefully placed it back on your head.

Jake groaned, his head falling back for a moment as his grip on your waist tightened. “You’re playin’ a dangerous game, darlin’.”

“Am I?” you teased, leaning forward just enough that the brim of the hat shadowed your face, leaving him staring up at you like you’d stolen all the air from his lungs.

Jake’s hands slid up your sides, his thumbs brushing over your ribs as he guided your movements. “You’re wearin’ nothin’ but my hat and lookin’ like that,” he muttered, his voice low and ragged.

You laughed softly, but your amusement quickly faded as the heat between you grew. The way his hands moved over you—possessive yet gentle—was making it impossible to keep the pace slow.

As you shifted and leaned forward again, Jake reached up, tipping the brim of the hat slightly. “You’re somethin’ else,” he said softly, his green eyes locked on yours.

For once, the cockiness was gone from his voice, replaced with a raw honesty that left you breathless. You didn’t respond, couldn’t, as you captured his lips again and let the heat between you consume every other thought.

The heat between your bodies was electric, every touch and movement sending sparks skittering across your skin. You shifted slightly, lifting your hips just enough to position yourself over him. Jake’s breath hitched, and his hands instinctively gripped your thighs, steadying you as if he couldn’t bear to let you go.

For a brief moment, the world seemed to hold its breath. Your eyes locked with his, and the teasing glint in his green gaze had softened into something deeper, something that made your heart skip a beat. Without a word, he let his hands glide up your sides, the warmth of his palms grounding you as you slowly sank down onto him.

A shuddered groan escaped Jake’s lips, and you couldn’t hold back the small gasp that left yours. The sensation was overwhelming, but it wasn’t just physical—it was the way he looked at you, like you were something precious, something he wanted to memorize with every touch.

Jake sat up slightly, his arms wrapping around your waist to pull you closer, pressing his forehead to yours as your breaths mingled. For a moment, neither of you moved. The intimacy of it, the closeness, was almost too much to bear. His thumbs traced small circles against your skin, grounding you in the moment.

When you finally began to move, it was slow, deliberate, like the two of you were trying to savor every second. Jake’s lips found yours, and the kiss was anything but hurried. It was deep, consuming, a perfect match to the rhythm you’d set. His hands explored your back, your sides, your hips, mapping every inch of you like he never wanted to forget.

As the pace quickened, so did the intensity. Jake’s lips left yours to trail along your jaw, down your neck, his teeth grazing your skin in a way that sent a shiver racing through you. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as you tipped your head back, surrendering completely to the moment.

His grip on your waist tightened, and his lips found the hollow of your throat. Every movement between you spoke louder than words ever could—the way his hands caressed you, the way your body arched into his, the way his lips lingered on your skin like he couldn’t get enough.

This wasn’t just a fleeting moment, and you could feel it in the way he held you. He wasn’t just here for now—he was here for you, wholly and completely. And though neither of you spoke, the weight of that realization settled between you, amplifying the passion that had consumed you both.

As the rhythm between you grew more urgent, Jake leaned back, letting his head hit the pillow as his hands guided your hips. His eyes were locked on you, full of heat and awe, like he couldn’t believe you were real. “You’re incredible,” he murmured, the words slipping out before he could stop them.

Your gaze softened as you leaned down, brushing your lips against his in a kiss that was both tender and passionate. The way he looked at you, touched you, kissed you—it was like he was unraveling every fear you’d ever had about being vulnerable, about letting someone in.

When the moment finally crested, your head fell forward, your lips finding the crook of his neck as he held you close, his hands splayed against your back to steady you. You stayed like that for a moment, tangled together, neither of you willing to pull away.

Jake’s fingers brushed over your spine, his touch gentle as your breathing began to slow. He tilted his head to press a soft kiss to your temple, and you felt the tension in his body ease as he cradled you against him.

No words were spoken, but they weren’t needed. Everything you felt, everything he felt—it was all there, in the way he held you, in the way you lingered against him, unwilling to let the moment end.

The silence in the room was peaceful, broken only by the sound of your slowing breaths and the faint rustle of the sheets. Jake’s hand skimmed lazily along your back, his touch soothing and warm as you rested against his chest. For a moment, you both just lay there, content in the afterglow of everything that had passed between you.

But of course, Jake couldn’t let the moment stay quiet for too long. His fingers danced lightly along your spine, and you felt his chest rumble with a low chuckle.

“So,” he drawled, his tone laced with that familiar cocky edge, “was it everything you imagined it would be? Or do you need another round for comparison purposes?”

You let out a soft laugh, lifting your head to look at him. His grin was downright smug, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, even as your lips tugged into a smile. “You’re ridiculous,” you muttered for what felt like the tenth time since you arrived at Jake's place last night, propping yourself up on one elbow.

Jake smirked, clearly unbothered by your comment. “Ridiculous, maybe, but you like it.”

“Debatable,” you teased, your tone light and playful as you reached up to brush a strand of hair out of your face.

His grin only widened, and he gave a small shrug, feigning nonchalance. “Hey, I don’t blame you for falling for the whole ‘hot guy in a Stetson’ thing. Happens to the best of ‘em.”

You laughed again, shaking your head. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“Mm, maybe,” Jake said, leaning in just enough to brush his lips against yours. “But I think you like me anyway.”

You wanted to argue, to fire back some witty retort, but the softness in his gaze stopped you short. His hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing gently across your skin as he smiled at you—not his usual cocky grin, but something quieter, more genuine.

“I mean it,” he said softly, his voice carrying none of the teasing from before. “You’re…amazing.”

You felt your cheeks warm under his gaze, and you dropped your eyes, suddenly shy. “You’re not so bad yourself,” you murmured, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

Jake chuckled, his hand sliding down to rest on your waist as he pulled you closer. “Not so bad, huh? I’ll take it.”

You laughed, the sound light and easy as you settled back against him, your head resting on his chest. His arms wrapped around you, holding you close as the playful banter faded into a comfortable silence.

As your eyes began to drift closed, you felt Jake press a kiss to the top of your head, his voice soft and warm as he murmured, “Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”

And for the first time in a long time, you felt like everything might just be exactly as it should be.

[kaisensei]

hallucinations (gojo)

you visit your best friend only because you wanted to see him. but due to a sudden change of plans, you end up on top of him; which by the way, started as a challenge to prove him that you are indeed, very much real.

satoru gojo x reader (f)

wordcount; 4k

tags; friends to lovers, smut, cigarettes, drinking, oral sex (f. recieving), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), multiple orgasms, grinding, drunk af satoru!!

my first fic yayyy!! minors stay away, cuz I'll block you!!! please let me know what you think about this one :) it's kinda unedited and also like 9 pages of pure smut.

---

The lights seem hazy and you slouch back on the bed, your feet nudging Satoru's thigh as he sits at the other end of the bed.

You didn't mean to drink, your main reason to visit him being your urge to see him. You had come up with an elaborate reason about how you had to give him the parcel Megumi had asked you to transfer to him; smartly leaving out the part where you had bullied that poor guy to hand it to you and not to Satoru. He had smiled and invited you in, unknowingly seducing you with his voice which had indicated that yes, this guy is drunk.

"You know, you seem like a hallucination," he exclaims and you balk.

"Why would you say that?"

He blinks at you and then laughs, "I mean you in my bed? That must be my imagination."

That statement has your stomach dropping to your knees. Is he implying what you think he is implying? Why else would he be so affronted to you being in his bed? Unless…

"I can prove to you that I am very much real."

He laughs and leans forwards, towards you, his eyes, although drooping slightly, holding a challenge you can never turn down. You grin at him, your insides tingling with the need to get near to him.

You take a puff from the cigarette pinched between your index and middle finger, and then proceed to crawl towards him; your face now inches from his because of the way he leaned forwards too. You smile, the drinks you had a while back fuelling you, and grab his neck to pull him to your lips, your skin already on fire from the adrenaline and excitement coursing through your veins.

As soon as his lips touch yours, your chapped lips feel as if they were burned. The smoke that you immediately exhale forms a shroud around your attached mouths and you inhale a bit of it, a jolt spiking through your body and you push yourself closer to him.

At first he doesn't move. But, when your lips move on their own accord, his hand finds your cheek and he falls in rhythm with you. In tandem with you, like two swans dancing across the lake, performing an intricate ballet of their own – that's how your lips move together. As if they were meant to be, like jigsaw pieces fitting in perfectly.

You don't know how his eyes had widened like saucers when you first pulled him down by his neck. You don't know how his heart had stopped when your lips landed on his, the action making him feel jittery and burning his inside with need.

All you know is how blissed out you feel – and you are fucking loving it. You know the wine made you so bold as to kiss him, especially like this, but you are just glad you are finally kissing him. 

And he is kissing you back. With so much fervor that you feel you can dissolve in a puddle. His other hand also makes its way to your face and he holds you gently, but firmly. His tongue swipes across your lips and you shiver before breaking the kiss.

With a hair's breadth away from you, Satoru stares at you in a haze, hands still holding your face and lips red and glossy.

"Did you just kiss me?" 

"Now do I feel like a hallucination?" you quip and he shakes his head, thumb swiping at your cheek softly.

"Fuck. Do it again."

Gladly, you think and rush to stub the cigarette on the tray. In your haste, you stumble a bit and Satoru steadies you with a giggle, almost falling forward with you himself.

As soon as you put it out, you scramble in his hold and intertwine your hands behind his neck, climbing on his lap and straddling him. He grabs you by your waist, to steady you, and almost instantly you attach your lips again – this time with an eagerness that you both match.

He groans when your lips move against his, performing the same dance, but with added grace. His grip on your waist gets tighter and you open his mouth with yours, licking into his mouth and tasting faint traces of whiskey. It makes your mind go on an overdrive, and goosebumps spread through your whole body. 

Arousal pools at your center when he runs a finger up your spine, his other hand inching upwards, under the shirt you had on. He sighs into the kiss and breaks it.

"Oh my god, you are so soft." his nose touches your cheek and he slowly drags it all the way to your ear, tongue peeking out. You shudder when he licks your jaw, forming circles with his tongue under your ear, on your neck.

"Satoru." you keen and tug at his locks, pulling him closer to your skin – which is absolutely on fire. His lips meet your neck and he kisses your skin slowly, taking his time to savor your neck.

His hand on your waist works its way around it, and he grips you tighter, and before you know – you are being picked up and tossed on the bed with a soft thud.

"Ow." you groan and Satoru's eyes widen and he hovers over you, sparing no time.

"Oh my god, I am sorry. Are you okay?" his round eyes meet yours, face way too near for you to function. In his haze, he doesn't realize that even if you were hurt, your face would have been intact, and you giggle.

"Yes." you sigh out and pull him down to join your lips again. He almost crashes into you, but braces himself with his forearms. His tongue enters your mouth immediately, relishing in the flavor of bubble gum and making you moan as his tongue does wonders.

"Wait lemme-" you break the kiss and shift upwards, so you are not in the middle of the bed, dangling off the edge. That makes Satoru crawl upwards too and once you both have settled, his mouth finds your neck and your hands find his hair.

His tongue finds a spot on your neck, which gives away how fucking sensitive you are, and he groans into your skin when you whine. Your hips buck upwards and he pins you down with his, with perfect pressure that keeps you in place, but doesn't hurt you.

"Satoru, I want more." you moan his name and he ruts his hip against yours once, grinding down on you so you can feel him. His semi hard length rubs against your center, and even through the barrier, you feel overwhelmed by it.

"You want me?" he teases with his mouth at your breastbone, dragging your shirt down so he can see the top of your breasts.

"Yes."

"Say what you want, baby." 

You whimper in his hold. If he called you baby again, you might actually die.

"You, all of you."

"Fuck you're making me go crazy." 

You get hotter at this, goosebumps erupting across your whole body. As if you were any better? As if you weren't crazier?

Your back arches when his lips brush your nipples through your bra, making your pussy clench around nothing. His hand pushes your shirt upwards, rubbing patterns on your skin with the gentleness of a feather, soft but tingly. You arch a bit more, instinctively, when he tries to remove your shirt – and you let him, meeting him halfway. Your shirt goes flying somewhere in the dimly lit room, and you don't care.

Satoru has a different air around him, one that makes you succumb to him, with everything inside you. Your hips push themselves upward, for any kind of friction and he looks up at you from your chest. As soon as he does, you inhale a sharp breath and wish to die for him.

His hair frames his face beautifully,  like the prettiest ocean. His eyes are deep, and beautiful, and his eyelids droop scarily, hazily, as he watches you with a glint in his eyes. His lips are wet and bruised, and his tongue pokes his cheek, before he speaks.

"Eager, are we?" 

Oh God.

"Yes." you sigh, and you think you see him smirk, if only for a second. You are restless, you are crazy and you want everything, all at once. And he is making you run hills for it.

He kisses your stomach, and makes his way southwards. Your toes curl when his hands brush over your core and reach to unbutton your jeans.

"Can I?" he looks up at you, and even if his voice is a whisper, you hear it clearly, and you nod,

"Of course, 'toru." 

He grins at this, and undoes your button, your zipper the next. You lift up your hips to help him pull down your jeans, and in a few tugs, you are lying on his bed in only your underwear.

He looks at you with a glimmer in his eyes, filled with lust and haze. There's adoration that you make out, and you return it tenfold. The ever changing lights from his lamp frame his body, making him glow and you pant as you beckon him to you.

"You are so beautiful," his hands toy with your band and he kisses your core through the material, making you arch your back, your hands flying to grab his hair.

"Oh fuck," 

He slowly tugs your underwear lower, as if he has all the time in the world and you whine impatiently. You need something, and your cunt is restless as you try to shimmy out of the piece of clothing gracing your ass.

He grunts at the sight of your bare pussy. You arch your back, pushing your hips upwards and he bends down, eye level with your naked core, as he caresses the side of your hips.

Your mind buzzes, the fog sitting down heavily. You already aren't coherent enough, and the feeling of lust drives you to another level of high.

"Shit." you hiss quietly. It feels so good when his hand cups your pussy, making you squirm your hips and tighten your core due to the sudden action. The laugh he lets out is hoarse, deep, and the utter desire to have him drives you with ease.

Your eyelids flutter shut when he starts leaving feather light kisses on your lower stomach, dangerously near to your center. The soft action amidst the heat of the moment has you curling your toes, hands slowly reaching up to his locks.

"Satoru," you sigh and he grunts into your skin, his voice muffled by the rising of your body, with each ragged breath that you take. You are gasping for air, trying to take in his essence, his scent, all of him. It won't be wrong to say that you are so fucking pathetic, so gone, that he hasn't even technically done anything, and you are already incoherent.

"Can I taste you?" 

Your hold on his hair tightens at this, and you mindlessly nod. Of course, you would like him to taste you. Your pussy is aching with need – crying for whatever that is offered. Yes, that's how pathetic you feel.

His breath hits your quivering cunt and you shudder when he parts your folds with his fingers. They then find your clit and he rubs circles around it, making your legs shiver. You quietly whimper when he skillfully traces a line to your cunt. One of his fingers plunges in and your arousal coats his hand, merrily.

Even though you know how real this is, you still can't believe you are here with him. You close your eyes in a state of utter bliss, heightened by the faint noises he lets out right at your center.

"You are so fucking amazing," is his word before his nose touches your folds, parting them. You think he sniffs – and moans – right in front of your pussy. The sudden vibration makes you go haywire and you gasp out loud.

"Stop doing that." you warn him and he chuckles, making you run for your breath – again. You don't know how he can be the cause of your misery and pleasure, all at once.

"It's like I can live here." he says and you get a bit bolder – maybe from the high? or maybe from the frustration?

"If you're only gonna talk, then find some other place." you grumble and it's as if a switch flips inside him.

He pulls you down by the hips, burying his nose between your folds and swipes a path, almost hungrily. His hold on your hips is firm, not hurting, but also not allowing you to squirm. You faintly register his tongue peeking, but before you have the chance to react, it fully assaults your poor pussy. He licks between your folds, making your legs shudder, and moan in pleasure. His hands creep to your inner thighs and he pushes them wider, allowing himself to stay comfortably in between them.

"Mhm. So sweet, baby."

You whine at the pet name, and pull at his hair. His tongue works skillfully, and he lets out little noises of pleasure which drive you mad. His hair cascades down the side of his face, and faintly tickles your thigh, while framing his face beautifully. You can feel your high wearing off, the lust taking place instead. Your back arches when his tongue finds your clit.

"Satoru, that's.. yeah." 

His laugh is devastating, and your toe curls. You open your eyes to a sight that makes your breath hitch, and your other hand goes to the sheets, gripping them for any kind of anchor.

With his eyes closed, his jaw works heavenly. There's a slick sheen of sweat covering his forehead, and his eyebrows are drawn taut in focus. He hums and his finger rubs circles on your skin, leaving fire in their wake.

"You know," he looks up at you with a lopsided, lazy grin, and eyes drooping low. His lips are red and wet, and there's a blush spreading across his neck. His lip curls and he bites down on his lower lip to stop himself from laughing, especially after seeing you ragged and gasping for breath, looking at him with your head tilted and eyes pleading, "You sound like pure fucking sin." he completes and you thrash your leg, for him to say such a thing.

"Please, don't." you sigh and he snickers.

"Don't what? That's the truth, baby." 

You roll your eyes and it doesn't take him longer to get back to your cunt. This time as soon as his tongue flattens on your bundle of nerves, the tightness in your core starts to nudge you. His finger parts your folds and his tongue twirls in circles on your nub, making you gush like a fall.

You can feel the mess you are making, and his affirmative hum just makes you curl your fingers more.

"I'm, I'm close. Please don't stop"

He shakes his head and increases the pace of his assault, making you gasp out loud. The squelching sound of your juices has you rolling your eyes back and gulping. His tongue flicks over your already sensitive nub, and that being the last straw – you break for good.

Your orgasm washes over you in waves of haze, which has you moaning out loud for heaven's sake. The stars that Satoru's lamp forms on the ceiling seem so very much real, that it has you reeling for a second. You try to take in as much air as you can, taking in the smell of sex. As your breathing turns normal again, you register his tongue still on your cunt. He laps at your juices deliciously, and you arch your back painfully – especially because of the pain your nub feels, sensitive and gone.

"Stop no." you rasp out, and he stops immediately.

He looks up as you gasp for breath, and his face is drenched – covered by your cum. His tongue peeks out and he licks his lip, tasting your cum again and you almost shudder at the sight. His thumb presses into your skin and he leans ahead, sniffing once more.

"I love you so fucking much."

Time stops and your eyes turn into saucers, your heart flying out from your body. 

Did he just say he loves you? Is this real? Is he real? After being a moth to his flame for literal fucking years, he tells you that he has been no better. Heaven rushes to you and your eyes brighten with glee. You want to grab him by the neck and shout at him that yes, you love him too, but somehow those words die on your tongue when you look at him looking up at you with those eyes. So, you just nod; a gesture which seems to translate perfectly well to him, for he smiles wide.

His eyes, crinkling at the edges, catch sight of your hardened nipples from your bra and he fucking groans. Soon, he is hovering over you – the motion so quick that it gives you whiplash. He wedges his thigh between yours and rests his weight on his forearms, as he sets them beside your face. He is quick to attach his lips to yours, and you sigh into his mouth. The taste that sits on your tongue is yours, and even though you inwardly cringe, you find it so fucking hot. His tongue presses down on yours and you gasp when you feel his teeth on your lip, almost bruising you.

The vigor of his kiss drives you, and you moan when you feel his hard length poke your abdomen. You mindlessly shift your body and he grinds down on you, detaching his lips from yours – only to moan at your lips. His head hangs low as he works his hips a little more, and you help him with little whimpers and shifts of your own.

"Let me ride you." you sigh out and he pauses, looking up at you with a furrow in his brows.

"Are, are you sure?"

Even though you can't actually feel your legs, you know you are sure.

"I want to ride you. I need to." you assure and he groans.

"Fuck, baby."

He climbs off of you and stands beside the bed, unbuttoning his pants. His eyes glaze over your eager form on the bed and a jolt strikes through your body, pooling at your center. There’s a slick sheen of sweat on his naked chest, and you get the sudden urge to wrap your arms around his wide frame and pull him as close as possible to yourself. He rids himself of his pants and you almost moan out loud, loving the sight of his nude thighs, practically inviting you to sit on them.

Satoru nudges you and you shift, letting him settle down on the bed beside you. Immediately, your hands are on him, and you trace his form with your fingers, your lips on his jaw trying to savor each and every inch of him. He groans under your ministrations, leading you to push yourselves onto him, finally on those thighs you have always thought about.

“You are so hot,” he sighs, his hands finding solace on your waist. 

You will your hands to leave his pecs, and direct them to his cock, standing tall with need. You fist it once, the man under you keening with pleasure. You look him in the eyes, your gaze challenging him as you continue to drag your hand over his length slowly, making him bite down on his lip and tighten his hold on your waist. His touch burns you, his fingers digging into your bare skin. The pleasure and his voices drive you, and you bring your other hand to your back, successfully unbuttoning your last piece of garment. He audibly moans when he sees your boobs and your insides flare with need.

“Baby, please,” he pleads, and you understand what he asks of you. Your actions are swift as you hover above his length, directing it to your aching pussy and slowly sit down on it. You throw your head back, syncing your moans with his as your walls cover his needy cock, filling you full. You brace yourselves with your hands on his abdomen and he guides you lower on his length, your pussy tightening around him and covering him with your slick arousal.

"Ah shit," he hisses, his eyes glazing over with lust. Your ass hits his thighs, and you bite down on your lip to stop the insensitivities from spilling out of your mouth. You lean towards and start moving your hips, your fingers inching up his abs and pussy sucking him in deliciously.

The stretch of your walls hurt you, but you can't even complain because that's what you wanted. Soon, you are riding him with ease, your hips rocking as his fingers dig deeper in your skin. The pleasure is so crazy that you see spots in your vision, your body hot with need.

He whines under you and you moan his name out, increasing your pace and leaning back on your palms, as they rest on his knees. You close your eyes and he thrusts his hips upwards, meeting you halfway. Your tits bounce as you move, and the man under you groans at the sight.

"'toru, you feel so good," you whimper, and miss the way he bites down on his lip. His eyes drink your sight in, and rather than see it, you feel the heat of his gaze on you, goosebumps erupting in its wake.

Your core tightens and your pace gets sloppier, his thrusts taking you to levels never seen. His eyes screw shut and you try to train your sight on the beauty of his body, white spots filling your vision from the pleasure that courses through your body. You are terribly close, leaning towards him in need to find his lips on yours.

"Angel, I," he begins and breaks the sentence with a deep thrust upwards, "I have never felt so fucking blissed out before."

Oh god, you almost cry out at this, slipping closer to the edge. You tell him so and he nods, a grin etching on his face.

"Let's slip together," he brings his hand to yours and intertwines his fingers with yours. Butterflies rise in your stomach and your throat almost chokes up at that action, a lovely feeling encasing you.

He loves you.

And you love him.

That fact combined with the way his cock fucks into you so sweetly, you topple over the edge, your orgasm washing over you in waves of pure bliss. You see stars behind your closed lids and stop moving, not being able to feel your legs or your knees or your hands; only and only his presence.

It's a few seconds later that he spills inside you, his hold on your hand tightening and a deep groan making its way past his lips. His cock jerks inside you once, and he brings you closer to him, your name the only word on his lips like a mantra.

Your boobs press up against his chest and he gushes at the feeling, his nose nudging yours, a similar smile on both of your faces. He pulls out with a grimace and wraps his arms around your form, locking you in his embrace.

"You said you love me?" you sheepishly suggest and he lets out a full belly laugh.

"Yes, yes I do. I'm in love with you, and I can no longer deny it."

Oh, straight to your heart. You get all giddy like a teenager at his proclamation of his love for you.

"Do you…?" he trails off, a shadow of doubt passing over his face.

"Of course, I love you."

He grins, relieved by it and leaves a chaste kiss on your lips, giving you the chance to chase it if you want to. And of course you want to.

You'll always want him.

---

© kaisensei. do not repost or claim as your own.

>>> please let me know what you think of this by reblogging, leaving comments or sending asks :) I'll love it!!

[sunnie-angel]

Sunnie I've been inundated with thoughts of wuh luh wuh!!!! How do you think childhood bff femjay would react to reader inviting her over for a sleepover (aka, the thing they haven't done together since they were young, before Jay's death). I'm thinking about the fact that Jay's got a crazy suppressed crush on her best friend and she doesn't know if she can handle r braiding Jay's hair or painting her nails, close and gentle and so much softer than Jay is 🩷

as you should!!!! the jay todd wlw brainrot is here to stay and sanne you are cooking up something sooo delicious with this idea

you invite jay over and before you've even got the sentence out she's nodding her head and agreeing, asking what time to come over and if she should bring her own pillow. because it means everything's back to normal if you want to resume all your old traditions together right? that you're ready to trust her with your vulnerable sleeping form, the soft huffs of your slumbering breaths, the rise and fall of your--. oh. oh this is not gonna be the same at all.

you order takeout and its jay's favourite, her order exactly. you didn't even have to ask because you already know.....wait does this mean the two of you have a regular order? a regular order to a regular restaurant that you know by heart? jay's trying really, really hard not to choke on her lo mein but its hard when she's coming to the catastrophic realization that not only do you know her well, you've incorporated her little quirks into your life so effortlessly.

you put on a movie -- one the two of you have seen so many times before but it makes you laugh so jay really doesn't mind -- settle yourself on the couch beside her and start to braid her hair. and it should be fine right? you've done it so many times for her, before and after resurrecting. you even braid her hair semi-regularly if she's hanging out with you before patrol, so this should be no big deal. wrong. usually, you're not wearing your pyjamas with the stretched out neckline slipping off your shoulders and giving jay an eyeful of more.....intimate sights. you're not usually adding in hair oils and leave in conditioner that smells oh so good and just like you. you're not finishing the ends of her braids with soft satin scrunchies in a shade of red jay's sure you didn't own before tonight. you don't usually spend long minutes after you're done running your nails lightly over her scalp until she's a melted puddle on the couch. then its her turn and her large scarred hands feel so clumsy running a brush through your hair but you don't run away screaming when she encounters the first knot so she'll call it a win. jay's so giddy at the chance to bury her hands in your hair and just play.

she hardly dares breathe when you nestle in beside her, pulling the throw blanket over you both. your arms are circling her waist gently keeping her close and jay doesn't think that even clark could peel her away because your head is resting on her shoulder and your bare thighs in their tiny shorts are pressed up against hers. every time you laugh, jay can feel your breath on her collarbones, the way shake against her ribs. jay couldn't tell you a single thing that happened during the entire movie if you asked her. no, she was too wrapped up in you using her as a pillow, trusting her to keep you close.

the credits roll and you blink up at her blearily, face too close for her to concentrate on anything you're actually saying. she comes to her sense when you start talking about which side of the bed she wants to take, if its still the same as it used to be. like yes you two used to share a bed as kids but she'd just kinda assumed she'd be taking the couch??? and you're laughing at her telling her not to be so silly, you've shared sooo many times before this time won't be any different. she's laying stiff as a board in bed trying desperately not to touch or encroach too far but you're snuggling up to her again, adjusting her strong arms to fold around you just so, so that you have one to pillow your head. this is a sleepover though right? you can't just go straight t obed you have to gossip first. and you're sorry you didn't pick up any magazines for topics but jay remembers how to do girl talk right? so who's jay crushing on, hmmm? somebody you both know?

[siremasterlawrence]

Seducing The Devil Of Hells Kitchen

Matt Murdock is a slut to the highest level ofdegree but he never expected to get drunk with some random guy he met at a bar he frequents a lot and that guy is me his new best friend. He took me by the side of my arm leading to the back of the bar presses my body on the wall as he kisses me slowly,softly, and with such passion his alcohol infused mind. I kiss him back flipping him on to his back as I stare in to his eyes before firmly holds cupping his chin in the palm of my hand as I lean in closer as we make out intensely with such love. I took him by his hand lead him out of the bar to the side walk as we head off to my apartment as we stop in midst of the street and I lean on him once more.

I push him off digging in to my pocket to find my key which I slip through the key hole as we turn the key walk through the door and head up the staircase and we enter my giant apartment. He smirks but feeling hot he is burning up his skin is hot to touch looks so fiery and remakes his clothes one article ofclothing at a time and stood butt naked under the light. I clap as he heads to my side in total haste he drops his knees in a feverish pitch he Is holding on to his knee with lust, love and desire in his eyes the light in it blows up so brightly before me. His lips purse landing on to my knee cap kissing up my leg in a deep seeded need he could not get over me and I took him by his side in my advantage as we head to my bed and he worships me.

“Dude! My name is Matt by the way”

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Did you invite me over and did we have sex?”

“A bit of both”

“What on earth? “

“You enjoyed it profusely”

“Did you do something to me?”

“Like what !”

“Drug me!”

“I should be angry but”

“I am so turned on and hard “

“You loved it”

“God! Why can’t I fight it?”

“Why would you ?”

“Huh!”

“I mean? What’s the point”

“I am…0

“Straight? As if you are dreaming “

“Tell me Matt! Look at me and be mine”

“I am so in love with you “

“You have no idea “

“I know the truth “

“You know nothing about me”

“The devil of Hells Kitchen “

“A blatant lie”

“Okay Daredevil”

“You can’t tell anybody “

“Why would I?”

“I need you alive “

“You are all mine”

“How do you have this hold on?”

“I am more powerful than you”

“You are my property “

“Yes should just submit “

“Give in to my word”

“Submit to my agenda “

“You are my agent of chaos “

“There is something in your voice”

“Your words hit me”

“They crack my defenses “

“You make me feel so good”

“I awaken with you “

“I am alive “

“You deserve me”

“I want to be by your side”

“My mind it’s …I have a headache “

“It feels weird “

“How so?”

“I am numb”

“Empty with no recourse “

“Only you can command me”

“I am your foot soldier “

“At your orders”

“By your instructions “

“Solely yours “

“I am your world “

“You love everything about me”

“My breath “

“My touch”

“No other man can do “

“Certainly no woman “

“No insults “

“No barbs”

“No futile resistance “

“You surrender “

“I am your everything “

“I am your life “

“Kneel for me”

“Yes”

“Yes who?”

“Sir Yes Sir”

“I love you “

“I love you too”

“I love you Master Lawrence “

“Sir Yes Sir”

“Daredevil! Put on your costume and you have a job this country is mine.”

The end

[chubbletea]

not to advertise but

I need more. thsc friends (grabby hands)

[sejarcus-archive]

Dancer! Sejanus, in which he is given the lead role alongside one of Marcus’s best friends, and Marcus can’t take his eyes off of him for the entire duration of the show

[hoshigray]

𝐍𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐲 𝐁𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲, 𝐆𝐞𝐭 𝐅@#𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐅𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐲!? | suguru getō

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Next time you wanna do something nice for your boyfriend, how about making sure he doesn’t see the package – let alone OPEN it! – before you? Especially if it’s something with bunny ears…!

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Geto x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern au! you and Geto are college sweethearts - implied that you and Geto are early 20s - lingerie + bunny outfit - oral (m! receiving) - anal fingering (f! receiving) - use of an anal toy; butt plug - backshots/doggy style + deep impact positions - impact play (spanking) - clitoral play - praise - finger sucking - cervix fucking - unprotected sex (psa: don't be silly; wrap the willy) - pet names (angel, baby, bunny girl, little bunny, good girl, my love, princess, sweet baby, sweetie) - cameos: Utahime, Mei Mei, and Gojo - reader is very shy but is trying their best! - kind of freaky! Geto awakening, lmao - humor - mention of drool/spit and tears - will be proofread l8r.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 9.2k (sigh..)

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: based on this ask!! haven't done a suguru fic in a long while so ehh, why not? && tysm for 8.8k, my loves xoxo

“…”

Oh no.

“…Well,”

I have to be dreaming…

“Needless to say, I brought your package inside, Y/n.”

THERE’S NO WAY!!!

Being an introvert can have its trivial times; you should know that. Looking back on your life, you can’t seem to say you had the drive to stand out, an expertise you regret not putting effort into. You couldn’t do it; you’ve tried but to no avail! Going out of your comfort zone is too scary, shivering or freezing on the spot whenever you’re being spoken to or fumbling with words when trying to make a point. Man, it’s so embarrassing! It sucks — you’re a grown adult, and yet you can barely get through any gathering without anxiety rattling your bones.

Some are good at talking with others or are lucky enough to be naturally blessed with a social spirit. Some people like your boyfriend, for example. 

Yes, you have a boyfriend. 

Suguru Geto, your partner, wasn’t a complete extrovert. Honestly, he’s comfortable keeping to himself if he could choose. After meeting you, he preferred dates when you visit each other’s dormitories and enjoy each other’s company. However, compared to you, his people-pleasing skills outclassed yours unquestionably. Geto knew how to talk, drawing people in with his mellow tone and inviting aura. He was good at mingling and making everyone feel comfortable around him. You were a victim to it, lured in by his charm and soft ambiance.

He was terrific, a role model to you. How he would efficiently put himself out there while you stayed close in his shadow never failed to inspire you. The way he spoke, how he listened intently to others’ concerns, and his maturity seen as a dependable figure to lean on. It’s absurd to think that such a marvelous man fell in love with you and asked to court you.

You and Geto have dated since your junior year of college; what you once thought would be a tiny crush on one of the school’s notorious heartthrobs became your first and longest-running relationship! How did that happen!? You couldn’t tell; one moment, you two were paired up for an end-of-semester project, and he managed to have you relax and talk with him daily. The next thing you know, he’s asking you to live with him in his apartment the second you finish graduation. Now, you two have been a couple for nearly half a decade. It’s unbelievable to think about.

But even with how long you two have been together, there are moments where you feel as though you weren’t doing your part. Being in a relationship is such a hurdle for an awkward person, aka you, such as going stiff whenever old friends of Suguru pop up and greet him or him inviting you along to parties only for you to stay glued to a corner in silence. You felt as though you were…boring? Dull? Deadweight!? The list goes on, and the guilt never tires you out.

And Geto – God bless him – has repeatedly expressed and assured you that you didn’t have to feel as such. His alluring purple eyes and soothing voice vouch that he doesn’t mind standing in as your sponsor and speaking for you, and you are eternally grateful to the stars above for gracing a loving and understanding boyfriend your way. Nonetheless, the stress that churns your stomach doesn’t go away. He’s always been the one to voice for you, attend to you, and look out for you. Hell, even in the bedroom, he’s doing most of the work. Again, he’s never complained nor seems to ever will, but still!

He’s done so much for you, and you want to meet him at least halfway and make him feel appreciated. So, you took matters into your own hands and decided to do something special for your man!

Here was the plan: going out and buying stuff meant talking to people, and talking meant letting strangers know about your business; merely thinking about it had you trembling a storm. So yeah, nope. You went on the Internet and found sites catering to your search. You can’t say you were the type to wear anything risqué, especially in the bedroom. So, you dialed up your two best friends, Mei Mei and Shoko, to help you find stuff that they thought would look nice for you to wear.

Luckily, they came in clutch and found something for a beginner like you! It’s not something you’d wear in public—you’d rather die—but it’s a good start when implementing new things into your lifestyle. You added the item to your cart, purchased it, and waited silently for your package to arrive. To say you were anxious about this new step of adulthood was on the nail, but you beamed with glee once you got the notification that your bundle would be delivered today!

Before then, you decided to nap and wait for the item to be delivered to your apartment door. You woke up to that once you saw the notice on your phone, yawning your way out of the shared bedroom to retrieve it.

However, what you saw as you entered the living room stopped you dead in your tracks, and your eyes widened with absolute horror.

What you should have accounted for was that today was a Thursday, meaning Geto would usually come home from work on weekdays. So, while you were snoring in the comfort of your blanket, your boyfriend was the first to see a mysterious box with your name on it at his doorstep. And to add more salt to the wound, you caught him in the act unboxing the package and inspecting its contents, and you’re too shocked to fall on your knees at what he has in his hands.

Geto sat on the living room couch, the box perched on the coffee table opened with the wrappings decorating the brown table surface. His eyes find your figure to latch onto, but yours honed on what he was inspecting. In his right hand was a black lacy top meant to be worn around a chest—the other holding onto a headband with bunny ears of velvet material. 

This is where we lay our current scene; astounded, you could only stand in place — like Geto — at the sight before you. And with every passing second, you wanted nothing but to explode into bits. Your boyfriend had found your package and opened it!

Of course, you’d be stammering your words! “W-Where did you get that!?” What a silly question; where else would he have gotten it, dumbass?

Nonetheless, the dark-haired man answers after a forced cough. “Well, umm, I saw it at the door coming from work. I brought it in and was going to let you know, but you were asleep, and I…didn’t wanna bother you.”

“Why did you open it if you knew it was mine??”

Geto raised his hands defensively, still holding onto the items. “I–I’m sorry! I thought it was something different, like the cute glass cups you liked and ordered last week. I figured I would set those up on your behalf. I had no idea it would be something…” Your feet suddenly felt heavy, watching your boyfriend scan the lace top. “Like this.”

Any attempt to fight the mini shakes of your knees was impractical, and your throat was going so dry that you were scared to swallow.

“This doesn’t seem like something you would buy; could someone have accidentally sent this with the wrong information?” He inquires with furrowed brows. “Better not be some fucked up prank or whatever.”

“N-No, it’s, I…” Fuck, this had to be the worst scenario to admit this. “….I did mean to buy it.”

Have you ever had those moments where people would look at you after saying something that you wish you hadn’t? You indeed hated those moments; they made you feel so scrutinized by the public judging you. And seeing your man’s eyes widen and his expression morphed his lips to a small “o” shape? Oh, you couldn’t breathe adequately.

“You bought,” your quivering lips worsen when his left wrist flicks with the bunny-eared headband. “This?”

Your hands come to your face, shielding yours from his as you silently squat down with the weight of your humiliation. The shakes rock your entire frame, and you can sense your tears forming. This officially was the worst day ever; out of all the dilemmas that could happen, why did it have to be the worst one of all?!? Your partner had found out about the out-of-the-norm purchase you made without you present to explain yourself first. Now he probably thinks he’s dating some freak into weird shit. Can this day get any worse!?!

You wanted to cry, hoping the floor beneath you would give way and ingest you out of this cold, cruel world. But alas, you’re still here and can hear the footsteps approaching your crouching state, and you jolt when Geto embraces you.

“Y/n,” God, why did he say your name like that? His tone was smooth like honey, and he rubbed your back as he brought you closer. “It’s okay, baby. I didn’t mean to judge you or anything; I was just curious, is all. Sorry, I opened your package without letting you know, okay?… Ahh, did I make my sweet angel cry?” Raven brows scrunched together at the view of you burrowing into his chest more. “Aww, Y/n, I’m sorry…”

Yes, you were indeed sniffling into his sweatshirt. Although, it’s not that he opened your stuff without your consent that upset you the most. You whine while moving your face, “I just…wanted to do something different.”

“Hmm?” Geto’s hand doesn’t stop rubbing your back, speaking to you in a low mode. “What’s the reason, sweetie?”

“Because, well,” you chewed the inside of your cheek as they warmed. “I just felt like I wasn’t…Like—sigh, you’ve done so much for me in this relationship, and I’m so lucky to have you as my boyfriend. But I feel like I don’t do my part as I should, you know?” Nothing is said from the other, so you continue. “I just–sniff–want you to know that I appreciate you and all you’ve done, although I didn’t know if my words would do me justice. So, I, uhh,” your thumbs find their way to fiddle with themselves. “I asked Shoko and Mei Mei for help and bought…..this to wear for you.”

Three seconds pass without saying anything, then six. At ten seconds, the silence suffocates you and probes your unease more and more. 

However, his chest’s sudden rise and fall startles you, along with his pleasant laughter. “So that’s what this is all about, huh?” Your body’s rigid compared to his lively motion. “My angel was gonna doll up for me?”

“Yeah, and you ruined it!” You fuss, your cute teary face all hot and puffy as you complain. “I just wanted to do something special for you after I finally muster up the courage to go out of my comfort zone and do something nice and…well, sexy,” you cringed internally at the final word. Yet, it was true. 

Geto hums through your explanation. “You’re always sexy to me.”

“That’s not the point!” He laughs at your remark, the sound filling you with warmth. “I–…I’m different compared to you. Whenever we’re out, you’re so much more social than me; I feel like I’m a burden or make it seem I need you to watch over me or something…And I know you’ve said you’re okay with it and don’t mind, but it’s….sniff–I don’t know, like I’m putting more on your plate when it’s more of a ‘me’ problem…”

Your eardrums pick up low chuckles. Then, like the Prince Charming he is, Geto uses his hand to bring your chin up. Your face warms up at his handsome face in your vicinity. “Baby, although I appreciate you going out your way to do something for me—believe me, I could jump over the moon right now—you don’t have to go outside what’s comfortable to you to impress me or anything.”

“But I—“

“I mean it; I really don’t mind that I have to be some voucher for you. It’s not a burden; that’s just who you are. And if that’s the case, you’re too cute as hell the way you are.” You didn’t see his small smile grow because your eyes bashfully averted away from his gaze. “Now, if you want to build your confidence, don’t be afraid to ask me for help, okay? No need to force yourself to change up for the sake of ‘appeasing’ me or feel as though you’re not fitting whatever bullshit mold of an appropriate partner you’re expected to be.”

“Suguru…”

“Y/n,” your name pierces your heart like an arrow as his hand prompts your face back to him; God, he’s so dreamy. “I like you no matter what. You’re my princess; your troubles are my troubles. I’d tell you long ago that you’re bothersome if it wasn’t. But you’re not, so don’t put too much weight on yourself. Promise not to stress yourself over this, okay?” He boops your nose, “Remember: communication is key, right?”

Once again, you’re reminded how lucky you are to have such a man like Suguru Geto to court you. So understanding and attentive to your feelings and wrapping you in his blanket of love constantly makes it hard not to fall in love all over again. Chewing your bottom lip doesn’t even help the heat of your cheeks creeping onto your ears. 

“You’re right,” you almost melt under his lips as he kisses your forehead. “I promise.”

“Good girl,” your heart skips a beat. “But what are we gonna do with all this?” He points to the open package with his chin. “Now I feel kinda bad for having you buy this for me and ruining the special occasion.”

Wincing at the box, you remove yourself from Geto’s embrace to inspect the contents. “Honestly, looking at them in real time, I regret buying them. I’ll return them tomorrow or Monday, seeing I don’t necessarily need—”

“Woah, woah,” you stop in your tracks at your boyfriend’s exclamation. “Why are you returning them?” 

Huh? “Well, I mean, there’s no need for them, no? It was meant to be a surprise.”

“Yeah, but you already spent so much money for my sake. Plus,” Geto picks up the bunny ear headband from the package. “If this is what you were gonna wear for me, then it would be kind of upsetting if I didn’t see you wear it at least once.”

Oh, God, no. “S–Suguru, it’s totally fine; I can just—“ Oh no, he’s looking at you with that face, his eyebrows slightly trenched with a minuscule sad glint in his expression. Your stomach was doing flips out of guilt and concern, and the formidable gets worse when he asks the following:

“Y/n,” you swallow spit thickly as the man dangles the headband around. “Would you please wear this tonight?”

The question nails you to the ground, frozen in place as it rings within your mind. You? Wearing this for tonight?! “N–No, I can’t!!”

“Why not? You bought it to be worn!”

“Yes, but t-that was before you looked through my package and didn’t give me the chance to try it on myself!” When you thought your face couldn’t get any hotter than before, the embarrassment of this predicament humbles you. “And thanks to you—“

“T-Thanks to me??”

“—I don’t wanna wear it anymore!!”

Geto raises his other hand in defense. “Okay, okay! Look, I’m sorry; it’s my bad. But, to be honest, I’m thrilled that you went out of your way to think of doing something for me out of nowhere, and as I’m looking at this outfit,” He glances at the rest of the materials in the box. “I think you’d look beautiful and hot in it.” You can’t tell if your heart is thumping from his words or because you’re about ten seconds away from combusting. “So…One night to test it out, yeah? And if you surely don’t like it, then you can ship it back tomorrow.”

He’s so good at that, using his charm and words to shade you into rational thought. You take a huge breath and exhale through stressed nostrils, and your wish to dig a hole and rot away increases. 

Of course, you bought the items to treat your boyfriend for something out of the norm; that was the entire point of the plan! But what is the use of following a plan when you’ve let your guard down, and the element of surprise backfires in a way that you had foolishly unforeseen?! There’s no way you could put that stuff on you now that you’ve been exposed. Absolutely not!

“I think you’d look beautiful and hot in it…”

And yet, Geto’s words repeat like a broken record, each time making you as timid as the last. He wants to see you wear what you had bought, so eager to marvel at his partner adorning such risqué clothing that you don’t comprehend how you put said purchase in your cart! The thought of wearing such a thing in front of your man bubbles an excitement that is borderline frightening yet new; picturing his expressions and imagining his compliments is dangerous for your brain to form a headache.

But not as dangerous as the slight friction of your inner thighs pressing close to each other.

With a stare downcast and fidgeting thumbs, you ask, “…Just for tonight?” 

And Geto assures you with a nod.

“Only for tonight.” 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Geto sat on the bed in silence, listening to the ticks of the bedroom clock on the wall as he waited patiently.

As you two entered the bedroom, the man found his place on the bed, a still figure in the dimly lit room. You, on the other hand, made a beeline straight towards the bathroom. “Wait here…D-Don’t peek inside!” You commanded him, your voice betraying a hint of shyness. He obeyed, settling on top of the comforter.

Minutes soon went to double digits; nervousness wasn’t something that usually struck Geto. But the more he sat on the bed and listened to your mutters behind the door–distancing the two–the more he couldn’t help but feel an itch to worry for you. “Y/n? Are you okay?”

“Y–Yes!” That didn’t sound convincing… “I’ll be out in just a second!”

“Okay…”

And so he waited for a minute. Which turned to two minutes…Three…..

Anticipation transitioned to unease, calling out to you once more. “Y/n?” No answer; not a good sign. The tall man gets up and strides to knock on the bathroom door. “Baby? Everything alright?” Nothing, even if he knocks on the white surface again.

CREAAAAK…!

But his frets are handled once he hears the sound of the door opening slowly. He steps back to make way for the person on the other side of the door, and lo and behold, you stand.

There are things in Geto’s life that never cease to amaze him—you being one of them. From the moment he saw you, he swore that in his life, there had never been something that looked so mesmerizing and captured his eye in an instant, and Gojo and Shoko are always sure to tease the guy for such a confession. And the time you reciprocated his feelings and accepted being his domestic other half, words could not describe the elation his poor heart couldn’t handle. 

Right now, he is experiencing those same feelings when he’s with you. His expectations were blown out of the water once you entered the plane again.

Your face was the first thing he looked to, a sheepish yet cute expression that went with the adorable white bunny ear headband you adorned at the top of your head. Your casual attire had been withdrawn to the bathroom tiles, substituted with the outfit you had been fussing about until now. Your chest harbored a black lacy negligee with intricate designs that had Geto’s purple eyes dance and trace around; the faint drapes of the gown cascaded down to your upper thighs, yet your underwear could still be seen. It matched the lacy black thong that made your boyfriend gulp thickly at how gorgeous your hips looked–not to mention the tiny bow at the top center. And to complete the look, black stockings come up your knees.

“…”

There is silence between you and him. The only sound you can use to distract yourself is the beat of your heart.

“…”

But the longer you wait for a response, the louder the rhythm. 

“…”

The lack of his voice was killing you – eating you alive – and you’re sure that you’re bound to faint if this kept going. Did I wear it wrong? Do I look weird?! Oh God, please say some— 

“Y/n”

You squeaked. “Y-Yes?”

“Can you please,” Geto takes a few steps closer, enough for his hands to come around your waist and pull you in. You almost choke on the air. “Remind me to thank Mei Mei and Shoko first thing tomorrow, okay?”

“Wh–What the—What does that mean—?”

“You look amazing.” Three simple words have you still. “Like, seriously. Hold on, let me get a good look at you.” He leans around to look at the details of your sides, and your brain short circuits when he moves behind you and lifts the negligee to see the rear of your panties. What is happening… “Holy shit, this suits you so well.”

“Re…Really?”

“Really.” You can see the sincerity in his gaze as he surveys every physical thing about you. “I’m so tempted to grab my phone to take a picture.”

“Oh my God, please don’t!!” Your frightened hands grab his sweatshirt with a vigorous grip, contrasting the trembling owner. “Don’t take a picture, please!!”

“I won’t, I won’t!” the dark-haired partner assures you through a fit of laughter, his warm, slender hands finding your fists and pounding him. Again, you are frozen stiff when he kisses your temple. “Besides, I prefer not sharing something as beautiful with anyone else.”

You don’t know how many compliments you can take before spiraling into a puddle. “You really do like it.”

“I love it,” another kiss to your cheek while his hands now find purchase on your waist. Oxygen suddenly feels foreign when you’re so close to him to pick up the cologne on his clothes. “It looks so much better now that you’re wearing it. You really know how to spoil me, huh, angel.”

Was it him being spoiled right now or you? How he spoke to you had your heart racing uncontrollably since you left the bathroom. You’ve been a complete nervous wreck from the moment your friends probed you to buy this outfit up until now, and now you can honestly feel that you’re feeling a sense of glee wearing it because your boyfriend likes it so much. Regrets no longer linger in your bones, goosebumps calm down on your skin, and you hum as you return the embrace. 

That is…until you feel something pressed against you. Something….hard.

Curiosity sprinkles your pretty little head until it snaps and your hips sway to experiment. A subtle jolt rocks Geto��confirming your hypothesis.

“Su..Suguru…” You don’t know why, but the following words felt prohibited to leave your lips. “Is that—“

“Hnnm…Sorry,” he purrs abjectly. “Guess I got a little too excited.” He lifts his head from your shoulder to look at you, and your stomach churns at the sight of his stare, holding a misty, lustful glint. You don’t even mention his hands silently moving to cup your ass. “Is that too much, baby?”

Violet eyes latched with yours make you shiver, suppressing a gasp when he throws a slick rut to grind the tent of his dark sweatpants on you. “N–No!” You squeaked, feeling small when his smile got broader.

“So sweet like always,” a chaste, gentle kiss to your lips feels like clouds. He then steps back out of your arms, pulling down his sweats to reveal the erection contained by the boxer briefs. Geto sits on the edge of the bed and tilts his head. “So, will my sweet bunny girl care for me tonight?” Seeing you gawk at him, he stifles a chuckle, and it takes a good mental slap to bring you back to reality. A few seconds pass, and you finally build up the courage to walk forward and crouch between his spread legs. 

Mini prayers replay in your brain as your hand hesitantly touches the clothed shaft, the firmness of it getting stiffer and stiffer as your fingers touch thoroughly. When you’re ready, you bring the hem of his underwear down, welcoming his cock to the open air for it to intimidate you with its girth. Precum trails from the urethra, traveling down from the corona, foreskin, and underside. God, it’s been a while since you were up close and personal with this thing; its sheer size is enough to reconsider the regret you threw out minutes ago. Too late now, though.

Come on, Y/n, you use your inner thoughts to motivate you. You’re doing this for Suguru; don’t chicken out now! So, you bring your lips to meet the head of his cock, earning a hum from the man above. Blowjobs have never been your forte; again, it’s been a while since you’ve had his cock near anything outside of your lower regions. But today was different as you used your tongue to lick the lip of the cockhead, the salty flavor of his fluid teasing your tastebuds. And with the sounds of him whimpering, you begin to remember the routine as the seconds go. Your mouth takes in his tip with hollowed cheeks, and your hands grasp around the shaft before you glide up and down.

“Hahhhh, yes, sweetie,” Geto soothed, biting his lip at the display of you pleasing him with your plump lips. “Just like that…Nnngh…!” His words fuel more confidence in your motion, using this to move to the next step and take in as much of his shaft as you can. You don’t go all the way to the hilt–a task that you’re afraid will have you choking– but once you reach halfway, your head starts to bob up and down at a gradual pace. Black brows furrow at the movement; fuck, you felt so good for him. So nice and warm on his dick; he wouldn’t mind having his whole evening dedicated to this. “Fuck, my love, loosen your jaw for me…Mmmm, good girl, that’s it. Keep sucking like that.”

It’s not before long that you find the groove; albeit sucking on Geto amateurishly, he places a hand on your head, which you can only assume is that you’re doing a decent job. Saliva coats the limb busying your oral cavity, mixing with the excess come that escapes and spreads with your lips going to and fro. Your tongue goes on to flick and lap on his tip some more, evoking the hottest moans you’ve ever heard from him. And while you stroke his member, your free hand finds his scrotum and massages the pair in unison, a buck of his hips as your thumb presses down on the testicles with a curl. Your bobbing becomes frequent, a mediocre cadence that has your partner throw his head back. The veins scraping along the upper walls of your mouth are too erotic for your mind to comprehend

“Shiiiit, I can’t—Nnnmm!” He hisses before he cups your wet cheeks. “You’re doing so good, princess.”

Your eyes open and peer to the person talking above you. With a soft ‘pop,’ you release his length before placing sloppy kisses and licks. “Yew fink shoow?” You speak with a mouthful of his dick to his frenulum, humoring the dark-haired man.

“Yes, little bunny,” he teases, and you can sense the throbs between your legs getting worse after referring to you with that title. “Wait, I just remembered something…Hold on, lie on the bed for me.”

You’re gently pushed off him as Geto stands up from the bed, confused. You take your place atop the bed, and he grabs something from his sweatpants and heads into the bathroom. The sound of running water from the sink fills the silence before it’s shut off. He then returns to the bedroom holding a bottle of lube you’re familiar with in one hand, and the other with a wet, metal…fluffy…looks like a kind of—

Eyes shoot wide open when you finally register what he’s holding, and the anxiety hits you like a punch to haunt you. “Wh–W-Where did y-you get that?!”

“I saw that you left this in the box before dressing up,” no, you didn’t forget a damn thing. You deliberately avoided the very item that Geto was holding because looking at it was embarrassing enough; it would be horrifying to have this in the same room as you now! Between his thumb and forefinger was a metal butt plug–a small one, nothing too major–with what appeared to be a white fluff ball at the end. It’s meant to be worn with what you wore, but these bunny ears already trampled your dignity. Adding an anal toy to the frey might as well have you sign up for assisted suicide! “I figured we needed it to complete the look.”

“N-No! No, no, no, absolutely not!” Rejections fly out of your system. “That’s too much!”

Geto blinks. “You think so? It’s pretty small from what I’ve seen.”

You’ve seen these before!?!? “Even then, I don’t wanna—“

“Didn’t you see this with the set before you bought it?”

You almost choked on your tongue. “W-Well…Y-Yes, but,” your thumbs find themselves fidgeting, anything to distract the humiliation that overshadows your nervous state. “That doesn’t mean I wanted to…wear it.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s—” embarrassing as hell! A bunny tail as a butt plug!? Just kill me!! “—It’s…..It’ll look weird on me.”

Oh, how you didn’t know how much of a switch that flipped for Geto, the other quietly thought to himself before speaking again. “Y/n,” you perked at the mention of your name. “Turn around for me.” Chewing on your lips, you shook your head—you knew what he was doing. “C’mon, now, I thought you were my sweet girl.” You flatten your lips when he comes close to squeeze your cheeks. “Please? Wear this for me, my little bunny?” 

Oh, for God’s sake, this night was getting more challenging to get through with the hour. Inner dialogue can’t even bring you to a consensus, as your conscience is getting in the way of coming to a decision. On the one hand, you feel as though you’re venturing out of your comfort zone enough, wearing this flustering nightgown and these damn bunny ears. Yet, at the same time, this isn’t about you; this is all meant to be for your partner, something entirely out of the norm to make him feel special. And you being reluctant to accept his wishes is just pushing you back to square one and defeating the purpose of this entire dilemma, right? 

Your hands find your face to shield, releasing a long sigh that should have stretched to your final days. Nonetheless, you slump your arms down in defeat, and a short nod is given: “.......okay.”

Without being told again, you feebly follow Geto’s request and turn around. Your lower half is the only thing in his line of sight. Your lips can’t stop quivering in such a position, and breathing becomes arduous once you feel your boyfriend’s weight dent the mattress. You jolt when his hand comes to the top of your laced thong, bringing the material down to expose the bare skin of your ass to him. Damn it! A pillow within your proximity is brought to your face, using it to hide yourself from the world.

However, “Aww, don’t be so shy on me, baby,” Slender fingers faintly brush from your spine down to the very crevice of your bottom, making your body shudder. “Shouldn’t be hiding that pretty face from me.” The sound of your gasp, when his lubed fingers teeter around your rear entrance, ignites a flame, and now he has a thirst he’s itching to indulge with. “Shhhh, breathe, my love. Gonna go real nice and slow for you, okay?”

The pillow muffles your moans as Geto begins to push one finger inside your puckered hole slightly. The stretch of the digit is a pain you have never experienced, making you whimper like a poor babe. Your boyfriend coaxes you through it, adding more lube to ease your ass as his finger goes back and forth to prepare you. Adding another finger causes you to shake your head, and your entrance accommodates the insertions, whether you like it or not.

A full minute or more passes where your ass is played with, and Geto smoothes you with a rub of your buttcheeks as he removes his digits out of your lubed hole. “Now, time to test this out…” A sudden chill has your arch, and the cold metal of the butt plug has you clamping involuntarily, yet the raven-haired partner reminds you to relax your body while he pushes the toy inside you. It doesn’t invade with the snap of the finger; thirty seconds in, and your butthole is slowly but surely adapting to the alien plaything. And before you know it, you feel the whole thing finally be swallowed into your rear walls; you grip the pillow as your mouth releases silent cries. 

“Haaah…I-Is it in?” You lifted your head to inquire. 

“Yes, angel,” he playfully smacks your ass, and you jerk at the unexpected contact. “Damn, now you look all cute and sexy with this on.” Geto then shifts to stand on his knees before maneuvering above you, removing the pillow from beneath you so you can’t hide yourself from him any longer. And more trembles crawl all over your body when you feel his solid cock create friction on the rift of your ass. “Lift your butt a bit for me,” your hips follow his hands, guiding you upward until you meet his pelvis. “Good girl…Gonna start putting it inside, okay?”

You nod leisurely, grabbing the comforter beneath you as Geto pulls the thong to the side. It’s no surprise to see that your cunt is covered in your slick, the tip of his member queued to kiss your labia. The lascivious man hisses at the sensation, anticipation climbing up as he pushes himself unhurriedly. The same goes for you, your mouth agape with quieted shrieks when the cockhead makes it inside your vagina, gripping the sheets as he slowly pushes more of himself, every inch of his penis becoming greater and greater, inaudible babbles once the base meets your folds.

Geto allows you a couple of seconds to stabilize your breathing, starting with excruciatingly slow thrusts–so painfully slow that you can feel every dent and vein that ventures inward and outward your chasm; it’s hard for your hips not to move on their own. With every pull, your inner walls clench on the shaft as if wanting more as he leaves your warmth. And every push makes you full to the brink of tears, and your brows trenched together as your fists ball the sheets.

“Mmaahh…Nnahaah…!” The brush of your velvety channel feels good within the minute, and the insertion pain is now being replaced with pleasure. Your roll to the ceiling at the graze of your G-spot, the butt plug made your nerves more sensitive with how busy your lower half was. And once he’s warmed up enough, your companion turns up the speed of his ruts. “Taahhh, I, ohhhGod…! Sugu—Oooo!!” Did he just poke your cervix!? You sobbed out loud.

“Nnmm, holy shiiit, you feel so good, sweetie,” Geto moans, taking in the view before him. The lingerie you were wearing gave a beautiful image of your backside, his indigo orbs survey from the muscles of your back to your prompted ass. Holy hell, it was driving him crazy, watching how the flesh of your butt reverberates with the smack of his pelvis. It makes him want to go ever faster, harder. And don’t get him started on the white bunny tail butt plug; shit was too cute to resist and toy with, pulling on the item lightly and turning it around.

The action had your holes clenching simultaneously. “Shh–Shhtop, Suguuu!!” You wailed out, toes curling as he taunted your anus with light pulls and pushes. “D-Don’t do that…!”

“Heh, sorry, my bunny girl,” God, the way he was teasing you was literal hell on Earth with how he’s using your body right now. “You know I can’t help myself when it comes to you…Aiisshh! Fuhuck, you’re squeezing me so hard…Hmm? You like it when I tease you, huh, baby?”

You shook your head no in a rushed manner, the heat of your face already coursing to your ears. But then your frame jerked along with the sound of something, and it was a hand smacking on the skin of your butt.

“Now, don’t be like that,” Geto chuckles above you as you cry. The same hand he used to slap you soothes the blow. “You know you can be honest with me. At least your body is…Don’t you like being close to me like this?” You don’t reply, too busy squealing at another graze of your sensitive spots.  So, he slaps your buttocks once more. “Don’t ignore me, love.”

“—Mmmph! Ahh-hahh, I-I,” You swallow spit before choking on it. “I can’t…Hic, it’s shoh embarrassing…!”

“Aww, is the little bunny still scared?” He then bends down to your ear, a big move on his part as you swear you’re bound to shut down from the closeness. “Hmm? What’s so embarrassing?”

A sluggish pull back before Geto snaps his hips into you harshly, another jab to your cervix practically has you seeing stars. “Hoooh!! Be–Becausee!!” God, it’s so hard to think right now, the pound of your head getting harsher with the increased heat. “Y–You—Ahhaa! Youu make me…s-sound sho dirt—Eeeyahh!” 

“Oh?” He licks your ear before nibbling on the helix. “You don’t like it when I fuck you like this? Don’t like it when I whisper to your ear while you scream for me?” You shake your head no, which is extinguished once Geto stuffs your mouth with his fingers. Your tongue, played with by his fore and middle finger, has you mewling like no tomorrow. “Hmmm, that’s a funny thing to say when your pussy can’t stop twitching on me. Make it seem like you’re not embarrassed to milk my cock dry, huh, princess.” 

“Nnoohh, it’s not—hic—not like that!” A tear trickles down a hot cheek as you suck on his fingers, his thumb there unaware to wipe it. “Don’t say stuff like that…!”

“Why? Too crude for my angel’s ears?” He keeps teasing you, “Even though we’ve fucked lots of times, you still act like such a cutie.”

“Stooop,” Lord have mercy. Any more than this, and you’re bound to melt away sooner rather than later. “D-Don’t tease me…”

He can’t help it, not when you sound so cute and flustered because of him. It makes him think of an idea and straightens himself off of you. But not away from you — he then grabs your leg and rests it on his shoulder while straddling the other, changing the position so you can look at each other. Something a lot more intimate as he goes back to drilling his length into your heat. With a smug grin, he asks, “Is this less embarrassing for you, sweet baby?”

Your heart almost jumped out of your throat; no, this is much worse! Your shrieks returned to erupt out of your figure as Geto’s pace increased. The new angle achieves having his dick venture deeper inside your throbbing channel, pounding to you until the hilt meets your southern lips, and the bump and grind of your clitoris with the motion is enough to have you winded. “—Ohoohh!! Dooahh! N-Nooo, d-don’t look…!” You try to shield your face with your forearm.

Yet Geto instantly refutes that, using his free hand to move it while he bends back down; his added weight has you whining aloud. “Don’t do that,” he groans at the contract of your walls, retaliating with more rough plunges. “No more hiding from me; I wanna see that pretty face always.”

“Suguu, pleasee—Nnnn!” Scrapes to the walls of your vaginal walls are even more dangerous in this position. “T’oo faaast!!”

“Hnngh! FFfuckin’ shit…But you feel so good,” Geto presses his forehead onto yours. “You feel so good, you look so good, like holy fuck! You drive me too crazy; it’s–Ghhh!- just not right how you can make me go wild. I wanna see it all, wanna see how cute you look, how dirty you look, and how fucking hot you sound because of me—and only me.” A kiss to your nose before placing one on the corner of your lips. “Starting now, I wanna see all these sides of you, so don’t hide them from me…” 

You are given no room to reply to his statements as a kiss to your mouth finally seals the deal for tonight. Light pecks gradually dwell into steamy, longing smooches, tongue and teeth classing for intimacy. It’s all it takes for you to sink into his touch finally and the comforter beneath you, submitting to him as he finishes you off.  

Geto then rolls his hips at an erratic cadence, and relentless hits to your cervix have you blubbering helplessly into his lips. Ungovernable throbs around his girth are ineluctable, the climb of your orgasm climbing up tenfold with the brush of your clit up against his pelvis. OhhhGod! It’s coming, I’m gonna—“Mmmmph!”

The peak of your crescendo has you moaning deep into the kiss, your writhing figure submitted to the end of your session as your cunt flutters around Get’s girth as the shocks of the climax rock your entire body. And your contraction is all your partner needs to let go of the reins and cease to his own release, his pulsating shaft expelling his load deep into your palpitating vagina. The two of you continue to kiss as your bodies heave and jolt, with the last of the aftershocks coursing through your nerves. 

He breaks the kiss, the two of you gasping for air in sync. Drool slips from your lips and comes down to your chin, and Geto smiles before kissing your cheek. “Thank you for the gift,” he commends you. “Ya sure I can’t get at least one picture of you?”

You’re undoubtedly out of breath, yet your facial expression doesn’t fail to display unease. “Please…stop teasing me,” you sniffle with hooded eyes.

“Okay, my sweet bunny girl,” he chortles. “Well, at the very least, let’s go another round, ‘kay?”

“Wha—H-huh!?!?”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“…I will never listen to your advice ever again.”

“Wow, rude?”

“Right, like whatever happened to ’thank you’?”

As far as mornings go, this one was ultimately out of the norm. When was the last time you woke up with your body sore to the bone? Because the moment the sun’s rays peaked through the curtains and landed on your eyes, you couldn’t move a single finger or toe without feeling a sense of heaviness. Or maybe it was because you found that your tall boyfriend was still sound asleep; his slim frame was spooning you close to him. You could hear his light snore as he rested in the crook of your neck and arm to your shoulder with a strong leg between yours. 

Your face warmed up at the realization that he was so close to your proximity, and it only worsens when you realize that you both are in the nude, which rarely [if not NEVER] happens! Where’s your pajamas? At the very least, an oversized shirt and panties! 

But you couldn’t find them anywhere. All you could see was a black negligee and a white bunny-eared headband, and memories of last night finally started to swim into your brain. But the true horror was when you saw the butt plug from before down on the comforter, and it slipped past your mind not to scream and kick the item in humiliating terror while abruptly waking up your partner. WHAT THE FUUUUCK!??!?

And to add the nail to the coffin, your body didn’t look like how you left it yesterday. As you got up to head for the bathroom, you caught a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror and felt like you witnessed a scene from a horror movie. Your skin was covered in light bruises and bitemarks, discoloration where it’s implied there were hickeys received all around your neck, stomach, and inner thighs. You were still wearing the black knee-high stockings. However, those looked utterly different from how they looked initially; tears and holes were found all over, but most prominently, the inside of your upper thigh area.

Speechless was the word to describe your puzzlement—appalled, dumbstruck, void of thinking as your reflection showcased an entirely different person. Th-…There’s no way… That’s all you could say to yourself, but it was the way.

Once Geto left for work, it wasn’t any easier for you to work around the house. Working remotely suddenly became an obstacle, as every time your mind recalled the events that transpired the night before, you’d become too flustered to continue your work. You couldn’t even walk into your shared bedroom, too rattled to the point that you just used the guest bathroom! The notion of embarrassment was getting challenging to function today; had you known this would’ve been the effect of buying that damn outfit, you would’ve stopped yourself!

Hence, you’re now complaining to the people who probed you to purchase it in the first place. “A ‘thank you’? I could barely enter past the threshold of my own room, and you want me to thank you!?”

It was late afternoon. You were washing dishes and drying them in the kitchen while putting them aside. But you weren’t alone; your laptop sat at the kitchen island with an application running. On the screen, a window harbored two screens with different faces: one woman with brown hair appearing to smoke out her balcony, and the other with pale blue hair styling her hair to a bun. 

The brunette, Shoko, responds to your words. “Y/n, calm down; all you did was have sex in a bunny costume; nothing radioactive happened there.”

“Yeah, well, I feel like I did something radioactive!” You retorted, wiping the sponge across the wet plate concerningly fast. You pick up the headband from last night and grimace. “Damn this headband…God, I’m so sore.”

“Having sex for an hour straight will do that to a person,” a nerve is stricken when the other speaks; Mei Mei is now done styling the back of her hair with a sly smile. “Pfft, I still find it funny that you passed out.”

“It’s not funny!!” To your dismay, you only make your two best friends laugh even harder. “This is not how this is supposed to be; I don’t even recognize my own body…You saw the pictures!”

Shoko titters, “Yeah, I saw, and it looks like Geto couldn’t keep his hands off you.” She takes a drag of her cigarette and exhales the smoke. “Isn’t that a good thing, though? It means that he liked the gift and appreciated it tenfold.”

“Exactly,” Mei Mei agrees. Your complaints seem to suggest that we completed the mission of making him feel special—which was, you know, the main reason you wanted to do it in the first place.”

“Oh, he felt special, alright,” you said, placing a dry plate on the rest. Although you’d been in a constant state of indignity, what they were saying was true. The whole point of making a fool of yourself and wearing a costume was meant to be outside the norm. It’s exciting for you and Geto, and you can assume that the outcome brought a satisfying end for both parties.

…However, it would be nice if it didn’t cost you a lot of hickeys and soreness. You sighed heavily, “You’re right…I’m just happy that he enjoyed it. He even said I looked cute dressed as his little bunny.”

“I bet!! Why didn’t you take pictures!?” Shoko complains, her device coming closer to her face to emphasize her disheartened tone of voice. 

“I would rather die than have photos of that of me around,” the thought alone causes an unsettling quiver.

But Mei Mei also voices her grievances. “Ehhh, but I bet you looked so adorable~. You better take pictures the next time you do something like that!”

You could’ve sworn your neck was nearly to break when you snapped your head to look at your laptop screen. “Are you insane; what do you mean next time?” 

A silver brow rises. “Oh, be real, Y/n; you really think this is some one-and-done type thing? I bet you ten dollars that Geto would love to pull those bunny ears out again.” 

The brunette chuckles after exhaling more smoke from her pretty lips. “Aye, maybe we should find you some more outfits to wear for him. Maybe we should have you in a fox costume next.”

Your mouth drops in displeasure, but Mei Mei beats you into saying something. “Mmm, now that’s a good idea; I saw something online with cute ears and a skirt. And,” her lavender eyes narrow with a scoff. “I’m sure you’d love to wear the butt plug tail of that one too, Y/n—“

“GOODBYE!!”

You slapped your laptop screen down as your farewell to your best friends, whom you’re sure are probably laughing to themselves for witnessing your reaction. 

Your cheeks are so hot that they are in discomfort; unbelievable. A next time!? You couldn’t comprehend the possibility that you’d be wearing something like last night again. Could you even look at bunny ears the same again after what just happened?! Bunny tails, too; what you primitively thought was cute and pure has now been tarnished to a suggestive and erogenous image. No, there’s unquestionably no way you would be put into that position ever again. No, no, nope, and no!!

DING-DONG!!

The sudden noise of the doorbell diminishes your reluctant energy within milliseconds. You checked the kitchen clock — Geto should be coming home right about now, but why would he be ringing the bell? Inquisitiveness draws up to your shoulders as you dry your hands, taking light steps to the door and opening it after unlocking. 

You leave a small opening to peak through, “Y-Yes?”

“Is that the lovely Y/n I’m seeing~?”

That voice…Not Geto’s, but familiarity sparks up, and recognition prompts you to open the door wider. 

Pure snowy white hair is the first thing that captures your attention, along with the dark shades concealing its owners’ eyes—a signature look of your partner’s friend, “Sa–Satoru?”

“Aye, you remembered to call me by my first name that time!” The named man was dressed down in his work attire, his hand holding his black blazer while he brought his sunglasses up for his azure eyes to throw a wink at you. “It’s been a while, huh?”

“It has!” Your perplexity was evident in your tone; you had forgotten just how tall the man was. “Wh-What are you doing here?”

“Well, I was finally able to catch your boy-toy here before ditching me at work,” Gojo brings your boyfriend into view with the tug of his collar, the raven-haired man expressing nothing but total irritation. “Dude owes me dinner, and I heard someone is cooking a nice meal tonight! Have room for another person?”

“Who said you were invited?” Geto questions his best friend after getting out of his hold.

“I did!” The white-haired man answers. “You owe me for saving your ass yesterday with that file scare—you’re welcome, by the way,” he ignores the glare of his friend. “And just be glad I’m asking for a home-cooked meal, or else I’d be draining your pockets at that new steak place that opened up recently.” 

“Unbelievable…” Geto sighs exasperately. “Hurry up and get in.”

You move out of the way so the men can enter your abode. “Excuse my intrusion~,” the blue-eyed man says as he takes off his dress shoes in the foyer and happily walks to the living room. 

Your boyfriend shakes his head, “Sorry ‘bout this, baby.”

“It’s okay; I was done washing dishes anyway.”

“Mmm,” he brings you in for a hug, part of the routine when he returns home. “How’re you feeling now?” 

Your heart skips a beat. “I feel…okay, still sore, but, you know…” He smelt so good, his cologne pleasantly sinking you in. 

“Heh, sorry,” he kisses your temple. “I had a good time; you really spoiled me.”

The heat in your cheeks ventures to your ears and nape, and your heart returns to racing at an irregular dance. The memories of last night all come back to haunt you once more; images of you being bent into different positions and crying out for Geto hit you one after the other. The lewd thoughts are too much for your pretty little head, especially when you imagine the tall, dark-headed man all sweaty and panting above you with a grin on his face like last night.

At this point, your face will need an ice pack because it’s getting hot. “I’m..really glad you liked it.”

“Loved it,” he takes your hand and after removing his shoes. “Can’t wait to try it again next time.”

And with those last two words, the world suddenly fell to a standstill. You didn’t hear what you just heard—no, you didn’t. “N-Next time?” You repeat.

“Of course!” he leads you down the hall to the open space. What, you thought you’d spend all that money on me for just one night?” No, I HOPED so! “Besides, I was looking online during my break at work, and I saw this fox variant look that I think would look real good on you—”

You couldn’t believe your ears; not only did Mei Mei prove you wrong, but now you have to deal with your boyfriend’s interest in wanting to indulge more in this idea you’ve brought into the relationship. What you thought and hoped would be for one night is now bound to haunt you for many days to come, and that thought in itself had you shaking in your slippers.

As well as the fact that you now owe your best friend cash for jinxing this situation. Damn her!

“Yo, Suguru.”

You perk up when you hear Gojo’s voice as you two enter the kitchen area. And just when you thought this world couldn’t chew and spit you out enough, the image of the white-haired man standing beside the kitchen island holding something in his hand mortifies you to the core.

“What’s with the bunny ear headband? I thought Easter went and passed already.” 

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header art by alp (ringoya) + dividers by @/cafekitsune.

[whytheylosttheirminds]

home for the holidays (part one) - r.c.

❄️ a frat!rafe cameron holiday mini series ❄️

summary a simple favor for a friend ends with you reluctantly bringing Rafe Cameron, resident campus fuckboy, home for the holidays. It’s gonna take more than a little mistletoe for him to win you over…

content “enemies” to lovers, copious amounts of flirting, eventual smut, a dash of familial angst, parental illness and mentions of parental death, 18+ mdni

Brodyyy <3: hey thanks again for offering to give me a ride back to nc for break!

You: ofc! anything for u after u gave me those o chem notes bestie

Brodyyy <3: i’m glad to hear ya say that…bc i have one more favor to ask

You: what’s up?

Brodyyy <3: one of my frat bros needs a ride back too, can he join?

You: does he live near us?

Brodyyy <3: he’s from obx but if you get us to my house I can take him the rest of the way in my mom’s car, so no extra driving for you!

You: yeah then i guess that’s cool!!

You: as long as i’m home before 6pm on the 21st i’m good

Brodyyy <3: cookie day?

You: exactly, u get me

Brodyyy <3: dw we’ll get you home in time for cookies! Tysm!

You: np!

You: what’s his name btw?

Brodyyy <3: …

You: *questioned* “what’s his name btw?”

Brodyyy <3: rafe

You: be so fr rn

You: as in cameron???

You: Brody, did u seriously invite rafe cameron to drive home with us??

Hour one

You could see your breath, fog filling the air with each shivering exhale as you pulled your coat tighter around your shoulders. Even after three-and-a-half years, you’d never gotten used to these North Eastern winters. The plan was to be well on your way towards a milder climate by now, but here you were, leaning against the open hatchback trunk of your car, desperately clutching your hot coffee as you waited for your friend to show up. With his friend. You rolled your eyes as you checked the time on your phone for the hundredth time, none of your many texts to Brody returned.

“Brody, I swear to god,” you mumbled under your breath, “five more minutes and I’m leaving your ass.”

Time ticked on without any sight of him. With a resigned sigh, you reached up to close the trunk.

“Hey wait up!” a voice called from behind you. You whipped around to find its owner.

Standing a few feet back on the sidewalk, sherpa lined corduroy jacket, backpack slung over his shoulder and obnoxiously handsome smirk painted on his face, was Rafe Cameron. Notorious playboy, frat president, and hands down your least favorite person on this campus. 

It wasn’t a big school, everyone knew Rafe Cameron. All of your friends had crushes on him, some of them even managed to hook up with him or have stories of making out with him at frat parties. Every Friday night, he popped up on every Insta story on campus, somehow everywhere at once, and yet your paths had never crossed directly. You were okay with that. You knew his type well enough.

“I’m Rafe,” he interjected when you didn’t greet him.

“I know,” you said dryly.

“My reputation precedes me?” He grinned, his slight southern drawl reminding you of home with a pang of nostalgia, until you remembered that this guy was from a completely different world than you.

“I wouldn’t be too proud of that,” you shot back, slamming the trunk closed. “Where’s Brody?”

Rafe usually gave people about ten seconds before he decided if he liked them or not. A lethal combination of impatience and general distrust that he disguised seamlessly under cocky confidence. Your arms were crossed in hostility as you frowned at him, even though he’d barely said two words to you. 

Ah yes, he knew exactly your type. You were that irritating brand of stuck up smart girl who always saw right through him. Sure, you were surprisingly really pretty, a fact Brody had forgotten to mention, but annoying nonetheless. He decided right then not to like you, since you so clearly had already decided not to like him. 

“He’s not coming,” Rafe informed you. “Didn’t he tell you?”

“No, he didn’t,” you huffed, “Is he okay?”

“Yeah, he got a gig with a professor to be a research assistant, but he’s gotta stay on campus to do it,” he explained.

“He could’ve told me,” you rolled your eyes, checking the time again to calculate how far behind his no-show had made you. “I’m gonna have to adjust the schedule.”

“The schedule?” He cocked his head, picking up on the tightly wrinkled knot in your forehead as you pulled a folded piece of graph paper from your pocket.

It was color coded and intricate, every mile, every meal, every gas stop accounted for, down to the minute. You had a pencil in your hair, tucked neatly into your messy bun so you could pull it out quickly and make necessary changes, as you were doing now. You held the paper up against the side of your car, erasing and scribbling intensely as you recalculated the trip. 

“I need to be home by six at the latest, it’s nine now, that leaves only an hour for stops and traffic, we were supposed to leave at eight…” you looked up to eye him pointedly as you said the last part, silently blaming him for the delay as you did your mental math.

“Sorry to make you wait, I needed my beauty sleep,” he raised his hands in defense, lips curling back to display his shiny white smile. “You don’t think this all just happens naturally do you?” He gestured to his face.

You tucked the paper back into your pocket as you eyed him up and down, unimpressed and yet simultaneously beginning to understand why all your girlfriends had fallen so easily for this douchebag. He was handsome, sharp features permanently set in an arrogant smirk. His body was tall and lean yet built, enough that you could tell he was muscular even under all those layers. His dirty blonde hair sat messy over his forehead, sticking out at all angles in a way that made it clear he’d just woken up. 

But you were smart, life and your high IQ made you an expert in reading people. You could see right through him.

“I wasn’t waiting for you, I was waiting for Brody,” you shut him down. “And since he’s apparently not coming, I’m gonna hit the road,” you slammed the trunk closed, pulling your keys from your pocket and making your way to the driver’s side door.

You opened the door, fully intending to climb in and drive off on your own, but Rafe appeared quickly by your side, closing the door before you could climb in.

“Woah, woah, wait,” he said, his arm out next to your head to hold the door closed.

You scoffed at his boldness and stepped back, “uhm excuse me!”

“You’re excused,” he smirked down at you. “How am I gonna get home?”

“Greyhound station is that way,” you pointed over your shoulder, trying to push him out of the way of your door, but he was too sturdy to be moved. He leaned back against the door and crossed his arms, planting himself.

“I’d rather ride with you,” he flashed you a devilish grin you just knew he was used to throwing around like currency.

“Dude, can you just let me into my car?” You shut him down.

“What’s the magic word?” God, did this guy have a punchable face.

“Please,” you reluctantly let out through gritted teeth.

“Hmm, no,” he turned it back on you, planting his feet firmly on the ground, both of you knowing there was no way you were gonna be able to overpower his large frame.

“Okay seriously? I know you’re used to using your body to get what you want, but it’s not gonna work this time,” you were done fucking around, an invisible clock ticking in your mind while your trip was delayed even further by this jackass. “Get away from my car.”

“I will when you agree to give me a ride,” his lips twisted and his voice dropped, aimed down at you, “or we can keep standing here and talking about my body.”

You couldn’t help but blush, and he couldn’t help but like it. The embarrassment at the involuntary response only fueled your anger.

“Why would I do that? I don’t even know you,” it wasn’t entirely true, you knew more than you cared to know about him. Or at least, in this moment, you thought you did.

“Brody said you owe him a favor right? Do it for him,” he suggested.

“If he wanted to cash in on his favor, he should’ve been here himself.”

“Okay then, what if I paid for gas? What was Brody gonna do, go 50/50 with you? I’ll cover the whole trip,” he reached into his pocket and pulled out a thick leather wallet, opening it to flash you his black card. 

You couldn’t help but also notice the polaroids tucked in the see-through pockets. On one side, what appeared to be a family photo; Rafe, an older man and two young girls smiling on a giant boat. On the other side, some sorority girls in bikinis, flashing the camera at a charity car wash. Who the fuck was this guy? 

“Brody was also gonna take you the rest of the way to the Outer Banks. I’m going west and there’s no way I’m getting on a ferry, how are you gonna get home?” You reasoned, though he could hear in your tone that you were starting to actually consider saying yes. 

Time to bring it home, he thought.

“I’ll figure it out. Just get me to the ferry and I’ll be fine. I’ll be eternally grateful, I’ll owe you a big favor. And I never do people favors.”

“The more you talk, the less I want to be stuck in a car with you for eight hours,” you said. 

Dammit, his plan backfired. But he hadn’t missed the way you eyed the picture of him with his dad, Sarah and Wheezie in his wallet. Maybe he could use that to his advantage.

“Please? All flights are sold out and I’d really like to see my little sisters for Christmas,” he blinked his wide blue eyes, mustering up all the sincerity he could find.

Family was your weak spot, you wondered if Brody had told him that. As much as you truly did not want to get in this cramped, two-door car with him, you felt bad picturing the two little girls waiting patiently for their big brother to come home for Christmas. Ugh.

With a deep sigh, you finally said, “fine.” 

Rafe slapped his hand on the car’s roof in celebration, reveling in his victory as he finally stepped away from your door.

“I’ll get you to the ferry and that’s it,” you qualified, trying to dampen his enthusiasm. “I need to be home by six, if I’m late you’re gonna owe me a lot more than a favor.”

He crossed his fingers over his heart solemnly, “scout’s honor!”

“You can throw your stuff in the backseat,” you instructed, your trunk already full to the brim with presents for your family.

“What, you got too much junk in your trunk?” He chuckled at his own joke as he jogged around to the passenger’s side.

You rolled your eyes hard as you climbed in the driver’s seat. This was gonna be the longest eight hours of your life.

Hour two

The heat in your car was cranked at full blast, but you were still shivering as you drove. This car was a hand-me-down from your dad, it got you back and forth to school, but left plenty to be desired in the way of amenities.

Based on the designer watch he was wearing and his Gatsby-esque reputation, you were pretty confident this was the least fancy car Rafe had ever been in.

“Sorry about the rattling,” you said, needlessly gesturing toward the dash, which shook steadily with the hum of the engine. “She’s a good car, but she’s got creaky bones.”

“It’s cool,” he shrugged, pulling a pack of gum out of his coat pocket.

“I’m sure the G-wagons you’re used to don’t shake when you accelerate.”

Rafe popped a piece of gum in his mouth, snapping it obnoxiously between his teeth as he looked over at you, head cocked in observation.

“You don’t like me,” he surmised simply.

Your mouth fell open slightly, startled by how directly he clocked you, “I- I barely know you.”

“Then why do you roll your eyes everytime I open my mouth?”

“Maybe I just don’t like what you have to say.”

His eyes narrowed, considering this for a moment before deciding, “nah, I think it’s something else. Did we have a class together or something?”

“No, just a couple mutual friends,” you smiled the fakest of smiles.

“Yeah? Like who?”

“Girls you’ve ghosted mainly,” you said.

“Whaaat, me? Ghost someone? I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he smirked.

“Yeah right,” you shook your head with an incredulous laugh that only widened his grin. “You know exactly what I mean, you ghost them and then you gaslight them that you were never a thing to begin with. We call it the Rafe Cameron special.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, I’ve never done that,” he said.

“That’s such bullshit, this girl in my hall freshman year showed me all your texts, you totally gaslit her.” 

“Gaslit? Me? You’re crazy…” he said.

You almost took the bait, mouth opened indignantly to argue again before you finally caught onto his game and the growing prideful smirk on his face. He was fucking with you.

You turned the music up, blocking him out as he chuckled under his breath in the seat next to you, ever so pleased with himself.

“Oh, c’mon, lighten up,” he tilted his body toward you, his long legs cramped in the small space of your front seat. 

He placed his hand on the back of your headrest, his arm easily reaching the distance between you. 

“It’s college, it’s not that serious. Everybody’s hooking up and breaking up. I mean, I’m sure you’ve had your fair share of flings,” his eyes ran up and down your body with that final remark.

You stumbled over your response. You weren’t necessarily a shy person, but you didn’t walk around discussing your personal life as openly as he apparently does. 

“I…can you stop looking at me like that please?”

“Looking at you like what?” He grinned, feigning innocence.

“Like you know me at all.”

“You’re right, I don’t,” he nodded. “Though I think I’ve pretty much figured you out.”

“Oh have you?” Your eyebrows shot up.

“Yeah, I mean, I have my guesses at least…”

“Please, share with the class,” you turned the radio down to better hear his absurdity, sure that he was full of shit.

“You were top of your class in high school, graduating with a…3.97 GPA,” he began. “You got in automatic acceptance to a bunch of state schools but you insisted on going to your reach, which thrilled your parents I’m sure. College isn’t as easy as high school, but you’ve settled around an A minus average final grade. You’re not in a sorority, I would’ve seen you at a mixer, but you’re definitely in some organized groups. Not sports, that’s not practical enough, it’s gotta be something where you can do some networking. Brody said you’re what, pre-med? So you’re probably in some kind of medical honors society. I bet you’ve had only one serious boyfriend, maybe a long distance high school sweetheart, but you’re too focused on school to make that work so you dumped his ass. A few hook ups since then, but nothing real. How am I doing?”

Your eyes were glued to the road, face gone ashen as he continued to nail correct guess after correct guess.

“My high school GPA was 3.98 actually,” you said weakly. “And I don’t like this game.”

Rafe had never been more smug, beaming triumphantly at your confirmation of all his assumptions.

“Don’t worry, I’m done playing,” he leaned forward to take off his coat, balling it up to use as a pillow so he could lean his head on the window. “Wake me up when at the next scheduled stop, will ya?”

“No promises,” you grumbled, making him smile as he drifted off to sleep.

Hour three

Bright red brake lights glowed in a line stretched out in front of you for a mile. You sighed deeply, your foot sore from holding down the brake for a full ten minutes. Resigned, you finally gave in and put the car in park, eyeing the clock on the dash anxiously.

Rafe snored. Loudly.

You shot him a bitter glare as he sat passed out in the passenger seat, blissfully unaware of the stop-and-go traffic jam you had gotten stuck in, enjoying his free ride and interrupting your music with his loud snores. Out of spite, you leaned forward and turned up the radio until your music was practically blaring through the speakers.

Somehow, like even in his sleep he knew how to push your buttons, he started snoring louder. You turned the music up as high as it would go, singing along at the top of your lungs until he finally started stirring, eyes blinking open. You quickly turned down the music, stifling a laugh at the confused, grumpy look on his face.

“We’re not moving,” he mumbled, groggily taking in your surroundings.

“You have great observational skills,” you teased him.

“You didn’t think to account for traffic on your little itinerary?” He said smugly.

“I did,” you defended yourself, “just not until we passed through DC. This part of I-95 isn’t usually so packed.”

Rafe sat up in his seat, not having much room to stretch out his legs but trying anyway. He watched the way you were chewing on the inside of your cheek, nervously tapping your hands on the steering wheel.

“So what’s happening at six o’clock?” He asked, trying to pull you from your anxious thoughts.

“Hmm?”

“Before we left, you said you had to be home at six. What’s at six?” 

“Oh, uh, it’s kind of silly actually, you wouldn’t get it,” you sat back in your seat, finally accepting that the car in front of you wasn’t moving anytime soon.

“Try me,” he said.

You looked at him, trying to decide if you wanted to share and risk his getting his rude opinion on something so special to you. But you were hungry, and tired, and stressed, and honestly, after a few too many hours in his charismatic orbit, you were looking for more reasons not to like him.

“It’s because of cookies,” you admitted.

“Cookies?” He cocked his eyebrow, trying to maintain his non-judgemental stance.

“My mom makes these gingerbread cookies that are literally the best thing I’ve ever tasted. They’re so good, she makes them every christmas, but she only makes one batch. It’s an old family recipe her mom left her when she passed away and my mom said she isn’t supposed to give it to me until she’s…gone…”

You paused to swallow hard, like there were more words fighting their way out. Feeling a little too vulnerable with Rafe’s eyes on you, you pushed them back down. 

“…anyway, I have three younger brothers, and they get home from their practices at six. The second they walk in the door, they’ll attack those cookies and there won’t be any left for me. So I need to get home before them or I’ll have to wait a whole year for more cookies.”

You watched him out of the corner of your eye as he decided whether or not he was gonna tease you.

Finally he landed on, “gingerbread, really? They can’t possibly be that good.”

“Oh no, believe me they really are. I’m not usually into gingerbread either but these are seriously the best thing I’ve ever put in my mouth.”

Rafe’s eyebrows shot up, smirking at you from his side of the car. It took a second for you to hear your own double entenadre. 

“Oh shut up,” you laughed, reaching over to swat his arm.

“I didn’t say anything!” He pretended to wince, rubbing the spot on his arm you’d hit dramatically. You flexed your hand, surprised that it stung a little, his arm firmer than you were expecting. 

“You question the cookies and then you mock me,” you shook your head. “I should make you get out and walk the rest of the way.”

“No, no!” He chuckled. “I would never question the cookies. I’m sure they’re delicious. Don’t make me walk.”

You zeroed your eyes in on him, “fine. You're safe. For now.”

He wiped his forehead playfully, mouthing a silent ‘phew!’

After a few minutes, traffic started moving again, though painfully slowly. Rafe was drumming along to the radio on the dashboard, growing more impatient by the second. His fidgeting reminded you of a bored toddler.

“Why can’t you mom just make more cookies?” He blurted out.

Your grip tightened on the wheel as sudden brake lights ahead of you forced you to slam on your own brake yet again. This was the direction you were hoping the conversation wouldn’t head in.

“She, uh…she just makes the one batch,” you tried to shrug the question off, but he was too busy tapping away and shifting in his seat to notice your growing discomfort.

“I mean how long can it take? A couple hours maybe? I bet she could just -”

“She just can’t, okay?” You snapped, your growing irritation with the traffic jam making the words come out a little sharper than you’d intended. You took a deep breath when his eyes snapped toward you, “sorry. She just…she can only make one.”

Rafe nodded, his bottom lip sticking out as he returned his attention to his phone, typing rapidly.

“Alright then, take the next exit,” he said.

“What?”

“In a half mile on the right, take that exit,” he repeated.

“Why?” you asked.

“I found a faster route,” he explained. “Let’s get you those cookies.”

Hour four

Rafe was right, the alternate route he found for you had caught you up to schedule, even putting you about twenty miles ahead of where you expected to be by this point.

With the made up time, Rafe finally convinced you to stop for food, and, after several minutes of arguing, to let him drive the next stretch.

It was amazing how much your mood improved with some food in your system. Now that you weren’t the one behind the wheel, it was you shuffling restlessly in the seat, unfolding and refolding your schedule and refreshing the GPS on your phone every couple of minutes. 

“In one hundred and twenty two miles, veer left…” refresh “in one hundred and twenty miles, veer left…” refresh “in one hundred and nineteen miles-“

“Veer left! It’s gonna keep saying the same thing every time, you really don’t need to keep refreshing it,” Rafe grunted.

You shot him a glare, making a show of turning your phone off and tucking it in your pocket. 

“Remind me why you couldn’t just drive yourself?” You snarled. “What, is the Beamer in the shop?”

“It’s a Range Rover, actually,” he corrected you, pulling forth yet another eye roll from you as you mumbled ‘of course it is.’ “And yes, actually, it is.”

“Ah, you pimping your ride?”

He snorted, “what is it 2005? No, I, uh, totaled it, actually.”

“I knew I shouldn’t let you drive,” you winced, grabbing the handle above the passenger door theatrically.

“Relax, it wasn’t my fault,” he assured you.

“Let me guess, the other driver was so blinded by your dazzling smile that they crashed right into you?” 

“There was no other driver,” he said, smirking with a sidelong glance in your direction. “Glad to know you think my smile is that powerful though.”

You regretted your word choice immediately, your brain was working so fast to deflect his charm you had lost the plot a bit. You scrambled to put the focus back on him so he wouldn’t see the way you were blushing.

“Okay so what’s the story then?” You asked.

“It’s really not that interesting. I was driving around campus and there was something in the street, I swerved and hit a tree, that’s it,” he reached to turn the radio a little louder, your eyes narrowing at the avoidant tone he’d adopted.

“You saw ‘something?’ What ‘something’ did you see?” You pressed, amused by his discomfort.

“Just, uhm, an animal in the road,” he said dismissively.

You nodded, a little “ah” leaving your lips as you returned your gaze to the window. You tapped your fingers on your thigh to the beat of the song. You wanted to know more, he knew you wanted to know more. The tension broke quick.

“What kind of animal was -”

“Ohhh my god, you’re so nosy, it was-“ he cut himself off momentarily to lower his voice, “it was a bunny alright?”

Your laugh was immediate and loud, head falling back at the image he’d conjured for you.

“Alright, it’s not that funny but whatever,” he rolled his eyes, unable to suppress the little curve of his lips at the pretty sound of your unguarded giggles. 

“No, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you said between laughs, wiping the tears from the corner of your eyes, “it’s not funny. It’s nice. You crashed your Range Rover trying to save a little rabbit. I just didn’t expect Rafe Cameron to break for bunnies, it’s very cute.”

Rafe never got flustered, he practically majored in flirting, it never phased him. So why the fuck was he blushing like a little kid right now?

Get your shit together, Cameron, he thought, she’s just some girl.

“So you and Brody, y’all sleeping together or...?”

Your laughter stopped dead in its tracks, head snapping towards him as your jaw slammed shut.

Pointedly not answering him, you grabbed your Coke from the cupholder and took a long sip.

“Is that a yes?” he continued. 

“Not that it’s any of your business,” you cut him off, fiddling with the straw, “but no, we’re just old friends.”

Long gone was the playful air of the bunny story. Unable to recover and get a positive reaction from you, he figured he might as well dig himself deeper. In for a penny…

“But, c’mon, you’re saying you two have seriously never…”

“Ew no, he’s literally like my brother,” you shut him down. “Why do you care so much? You jealous?”

Fuck, he hadn’t meant to give you the upper ground, he needed to level the field. 

“You just seemed pretty upset when you found out he wasn’t coming is all. Like, I dunno, a woman scorned and all that…”

“Have you considered it’s because I realized I was gonna be stuck in a car alone with you for eight hours?”

Thoroughly pissed off, you sank down in your seat and continued sipping your Coke, avoiding looking at him by counting the mile markers on the side of the highway. 

Rafe looked over at you, taking in the flex of your jaw as you stewed. He usually didn’t give a fuck if his words offended people. He preferred it, actually. But something about the shape of your smile and the sound of your laughter made him wish you were always happy. He felt like shit for making it go away, then he felt like shit for feeling like shit given his decision not to like you.

His eyes stayed on you for longer than they should, studying the shape of your silhouette in the soft light of the December sun. 

“Watch out!” You shrieked suddenly.

Rafe’s eyes shot forward and he realized with panic that he’d been veering off the road, the front of the car dangerously skewed in the direction of the metal guard rail. 

“Fuck!” 

He cut the wheel hard, overshooting his correction and causing the car to jerk sharply to the left. In your concern, you gripped your drink so hard the lid came off, your ice cold diet coke splashing out of the cup and all over you.

Rafe redirected the car until it was back in the correct lane, but you were already covered in diet soda. Coke dripped from your hair onto your face, your mouth hung wide open in shock and fury.

“Shit, my bad,” Rafe said, reaching in the fast food bag for some napkins.

He started dabbing it completely unhelpfully at your shoulder and you ripped the napkin from his hands.

“This is my favorite shirt, ugh what the fuck Rafe!” You scolded him, trying to use the napkins with very little luck, the shirt was definitely ruined.

“I said I’m sorry! Jesus calm down, it’s not like I did it on purpose,” he huffed at you, hating that he liked how you said his name, even when you were yelling at him.

“No of course not, you never do anything on purpose,” you quipped.

It took everything in him not to snap back with a “you don’t even fucking know me,” but he remained silent. Biting his tongue was a new taste to him, he didn’t like it, but he didn’t like the feeling of you being pissed at him either. Today was a day of firsts.

“We’re gonna have to stop so I can get a new shirt from the trunk,” you said.

Eager to return to familiar territory, he jumped at the opportunity to antagonize you, shaking his head and tsking condescendingly, “no can do, there’s no stops on the schedule for an hour.”

“Okay well this is obviously an extenuating circumstance,” you argued.

“So was me wanting to stop at that outlet mall to get presents for my family, but we didn’t stop then,” he countered.

“Right, because those things are comparable,” you scoffed. “It’s not my fault you waited until the last second to do your Christmas shopping.”

You were right, but he still resented the know-it-all tone in your accusation.

“Well I’m the driver and I say we’re sticking to the schedule,” he doubled down.

“So I’m just supposed to sit here covered in soft drink for the rest of the trip?”

“I have an old sweatshirt in my bag you can borrow,” he offered.

The urge to continue fighting with him until he agreed to pull over was strong, but the urge to get out of the cold, sticky shirt was stronger. With a sigh, you climbed into the backseat and dug through Rafe’s bag until you found a soft, worn out hoodie with a logo on the front that said “Kildare Academy Lacrosse” and on the back “Cameron #44.”

You reached down to peel off your shirt, looking up first to catch Rafe watching you through the rear view mirror. Your hands paused on the hem, giving him a steely look.

“Uh, a little privacy please?” 

His eyes continued flicking between you and the road, “I just wanna see if you found the right sweatshirt,” he claimed.

You let out an indignant tsk, mouth open in disbelief when he gave you a little wink through the mirror. You reached forward and smushed your hand into his cheek, pushing his head back toward the road. He bit his bottom lip, trying to play nonchalant as you stripped off your shirt just inches behind him. He might act like a playboy, but he did actually have enough respect not to look at you while you changed.

Still, keeping his eyes on the road meant seeing the fuzzy form of you in his peripheral vision. The general hue of your skin tone and the swift movement of you pulling your shirt over your head sucked some of the air from his usually puffed-out chest. He felt like he was twelve years old, the way just the thought of you shirtless in the backseat made his hands clammy and his heart pick up speed. He needed to get a grip.

The sweatshirt was about two sizes too big but so warm and comfortable you didn’t care. You expected it to smell like some cheap cologne or boy sweat, but instead it smelled like something sweet and inviting - fabric softener, you realized with a grin. You’d tease him for that later.

Hour five

Somewhere in the middle-of-nowhere Virginia, your gas light came on. You agreed to let him drive for another fifty miles after a quick gas station pit stop, planning to take the allotted thirty minute nap you’d mapped out on your schedule before driving the rest of the way.

Rafe paid for the gas, as promised, and stood by the car as he filled your tank. You never did get to finish your Diet Coke, so you ran inside to grab another while he pumped.

“That’ll be $2.79, dear,” the cashier told you, her southern accent and charm a tell-tale sign that you were nearing home.

With a smile, you pulled out your debit card and held it out for her to swipe.

“Sorry sweetheart, there’s a five dollar minimum for cards,” she informed you politely.

“Oh, okay,” you looked around the counter for something to add, swiping some knick-knacks from their display to round up your bill.

----❄----

The car door slammed as Rafe climbed back in next to you, balling up the receipt for the gas and tossing it into the backseat.

“How much was it?” You asked.

“Don’t worry about it,” he shrugged, turning the key as the engine sputtered to life. 

You shouldn’t feel bad, he offered to pay, and you were technically the one doing him a favor. Still, you were raised by blue collar parents, ‘neither a borrower nor a lender be’ and elbow grease was gospel in your home. You felt like you needed to give him something.

“Here,” you passed him the bag of trinkets you’d bought inside.

Rafe looked in the bag with a confused grin.

“What am I supposed to do with these?” He laughed as he pulled the items out of the bag.

“You could…give them to your sisters,” you suggested.

“What are they gonna do with a Thomas Jefferson snow globe and a bumper sticker that says ‘Virginia is for Lovers’?”

“Well it’s better than a slip of paper that says ‘IOU one christmas present,’” You teased him.

“Y’know what? Very true,” he nodded, tucking the bag of goodies in the backseat and pulling out of the gas station. 

The drive was silent for a few minutes. You leaned forward, resting your arms on the dash as you watched the emerging silhouette of the Blue Ridge Mountains on the far horizon. It was all getting so close; a crackling fire, drinking hot cocoa while watching How The Grinch Stole Christmas with your brothers, decorating the tree, those gingerbread cookies…

“What are you smiling about?” Rafe’s voice interrupted your revelry.

“I’m just excited to get home and see my family,” you said with a happy smile. “Aren’t you?”

It was such a foreign concept to him he almost laughed. He was still playing the angle that he was desperate to get home to his family so you’d give him a ride. He couldn’t tell you the truth; that he wasn’t sure anyone at his house even remembered he was coming, that Christmases in the Cameron house for the last decade were more about the pictures his father could put on the cards he sent to clients than they were about celebrating, or love. 

“Uh, yeah, ‘course,” he said, hoping you’d drop it. 

You didn’t.

“Does your family have any traditions?” 

“Like what?” He knew what you meant, but his brain wasn’t working fast enough to come up with a lie, the truth sitting on his chest in the uncomfortable way he spent his life trying to avoid.

“Like, okay,” you started. “Me and my brothers always sleep in the living room on Christmas Eve. We get all the pillows and blankets in the house and make a big pile in front of the fireplace and keep the fire going all night so we can stay up to try and catch Santa.” 

“How’s he gonna come down the chimney if you keep the fire going?” Rafe questioned logically.

“Oh Rafe, I’m so sorry I have to be the one to tell you this…but Santa isn’t real,” you placed your hand on his arm like you were trying to console him. 

He let it linger for a minute before shaking you off, “you know what I meant!” he grumbled, making you laugh. The sound was so sweet it made him dizzy.

“What else do you do?” He asked impulsively, surprising both you and himself with his desire to hear you keep talking.

“Well, you know about my mom’s cookies, and we always drink cocoa with peppermint sticks, and oh! Me and my dad used to cut down a real tree together the day after Thanksgiving- I’m sure they’ve already gotten it this year since I wasn’t home- but we’d always decorate it together, just the two of us, while listening to his old Bing Crosby vinyl.”

It sounded so nice, so idyllic and comforting, like a Hallmark card. Jealousy roared in his chest, hoping you couldn’t see it on his face as he pictured the much colder, tension filled holiday that was awaiting him.

“Didn’t Bing Crosby used to hit his kids?” He blurted out coldly, the holly jolly joy in the car becoming a little too much for him to handle.

Your face soured, lips twisted as he burst your bubble. 

“You’re a mean one, Mr. Grinch,” you mumbled. Even when he was being an ass, you were being cute. It was killing him. “Not a Christmas guy, huh?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be napping right now?” He brushed off your question.

“I don’t know, maybe you shouldn’t drive so grumpy.”

“I’ll be fine. Your thirty minutes is slipping away, though.”

“Okay fine, but don’t forget to wake me up when we cross the state line,” you reminded him.

“I know, I know. Are you always this bossy?” He snipped, his sudden coldness making you wish you’d never opened up to him about your family to begin with.

With a final, pointed look at him, you pulled the strings of his sweatshirt to cover your eyes and sank down into the seat. 

“Bah humbug,” you threw at him before drifting off to sleep.

Almost immediately, he missed the sound of your voice. 

Hour six

In your dream, you sat alone at your kitchen table, your dad’s Bing Crosby vinyl skipped on the record player as you cried over an empty plate, not a single crumb of gingerbread left…

Hour seven

The world was moving outside the windows, the early darkness of winter making the scene blurry, but you could tell the car was definitely still moving.

And Rafe was out cold in the driver’s seat.

“Oh my god!!” 

You shot up in your seat and grabbed the wheel, sure that you were about to go flying off the road any second. But the wheel was locked, and there was no engine’s rumble shaking the dash. The car was off. 

You blinked, your groggy mind finally catching up with reality. You weren’t driving, you were floating. The choppy ocean crashing against the side of the ship spraying little droplets of water on your windshield.

“Oh my god,” you repeated with a groan, this time less panicked and more pissed.

Rafe woke up with your body stretched across his lap, gripping the wheel as you groaned.

“Hi,” he mumbled with a sleepy smile, completely misreading the situation.

You sat back in your own seat and hit him on the shoulder, hard. 

“Oww, what the hell?” He sat up, rubbing his arm.

“Where the fuck are we?” You barked at him.

“We’re in your car on the way home,” he avoided the true answer. 

“I said I’d get you to the ferry…”

“And would ya look at that? You did!” He smiled sheepishly.

With scarily accurate comedic timing, the ship’s horn blared loudly, leaving no doubt.

“Rafe, we’re on the ferry!” You yelled, smacking him again.

“Would you stop hitting me please?! We were making good time and you looked so peaceful sleeping so I figured we’d just hop the ferry real quick and you’ll still make it home by six.”

You checked the time on your phone, eyes widening with realization.

“Just barely! At this rate I’ll be walking in the door at 5:58,” you argued.

“And just think of how many cookies you can eat in two minutes if you really put your mind to it,” he grinned at you. You were having none of his boyish charm this time, back to being a card carrying member of the “I Hate Rafe Cameron” club.

“I’m gonna kill you,” you mumbled.

“Okay, well can it wait until we’re on dry land? I get seasick and I want it to be a fair fight.”

He wasn’t letting up on the flirting, and you weren’t giving in. The rest of the boat ride was painfully quiet.

----❄----

“It’s just up here on the right, that metal gate,” he assured you as he approached his home, still trying to convince you that you had plenty of time.

Headlights bounced off the high white walls of his estate as the car pulled up. Your mouth hung open in disbelief.

“What is it?” He questioned.

“I knew you were probably rich, y’know based on your whole…” you gestured vaguely to him, “...thing. But holy shit.”

He grinned, “yeah it’s alright I guess.”

“Oh whatever,” you laughed. “It’s like a fucking castle!”

With a final left turn, he pulled into Tannyhill, the giant house completely dark at the end of the long drive. Rafe’s face fell slightly as he drove up, but he pushed the disappointment down when he felt your eyes on him.

“Home sweet home,” he said, feigning holiday cheer.

He put the car in park and grabbed his stuff from the backseat. You both got out, stopping in front of the car so he could hand you the keys.

“I should change so you can have your sweatshirt back,” you said.

“Nah you can give it back to me at school, I’ve delayed your schedule long enough.”

You smiled softly, giving him a grateful nod.

It was strange, you felt like you’d known him much longer than eight hours and yet you weren’t quite friends…you weren’t enemies either, but definitely not friends. How is one supposed to say goodbye to a non-enemy/non-friend? You settled on holding out your hand to shake. Rafe just looked down at your palm, huffing a laugh at the gesture.

“Well,” you shrugged, smiling back, “Merry Christmas I guess?”

He took your hand, giving it a firm shake and a squeeze, “yeah, Merry Christmas I guess.”

With a nod, you stepped around him and got back into your car, pulling up your GPS and entering your home address. So long as the ferry was still running on schedule and there wasn’t too much traffic, you’d get home with about five minutes to spare.

You put the car in reverse and got ready to back out of the driveway. You tried to keep your eyes fixed on the rearview, but you couldn’t help but steal one last look at Rafe as he walked through his front door.

Only, he wasn’t going inside. Or maybe he couldn’t go inside? He stood at the front door shaking the handle and having a very animated conversation with someone on his phone. Something wasn’t right.

Even though you knew you shouldn’t, you cracked your window slightly to hear the phone call. His back still turned to you, Rafe didn’t notice you could hear him and kept talking, loudly…

“The Bahamas? Are you kidding me?...I can’t believe you guys just left without me...well I wasn’t and then I got a ride…this could’ve been avoided if you’d just sent the jet like I asked…since when are you concerned about that?...well what the hell am I supposed to do now?!” 

The last question was said with a raised voice, aggression seeping into his tone. He made like he was about to say something else, but was cut-off, his shoulders falling as the voice on the other end got so loud that it carried all the way to your car. You couldn’t make out the words, but whoever he was talking to was clearly shouting even louder than Rafe had just been.

“Y-yes sir…I’m sorry…yes sir…no sir…okay I will…I lo-”

The phone beeped three times and the screen went black. Rafe stared down at it for a second before slipping it in his pocket and lifting a rock close to the door, retrieving a small silver key. As he raised it to the doorknob, his eyes caught yours in the reflection of the glass.

“You should get going,” he said, turning and noticing your window cracked. “You’re gonna miss your cookies.”

Fully busted for eavesdropping, you rolled the window the rest of the way down, “did they…are they not home?”

“Nah, they decided to spend Christmas in the Bahamas,” he explained.

“Oh. So you’re just gonna be here, like, alone?”

“I’ll be fine. I’m not a Christmas guy anyway, remember?” He gave you a tight lipped smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes.

“Are-are you sure? You could…” You couldn’t quite bring yourself to say it. Were you really gonna offer for him to come home with you? You barely knew him, surely you couldn’t bring him home for Christmas. 

The offer fell dead on your lips, but Rafe knew where you were going with it, the pity in your voice a little too much for his pride.

“I’m really fine,” he said, nodding his head toward the road, “you should get back on the road. You’ve got a schedule to keep”

You gave him a soft smile as you put the car back into reverse, feeling guilty the whole way out of the driveway.

----❄----

Turning the Christmas radio station up, you tried to focus on gingerbread cookies as you waited in the long car line to get back on the ferry. 

He wasn’t your friend, in fact, he was kind of an asshole to you all day. You didn’t owe him anything. Plus, he surely wouldn’t be comfortable at your little house in the country. Not when he was used to all the flash of this island, the one his family seemingly owned based on all the signs with their name on it you passed on your short drive. No, he’d be fine. You’d get your cookies and he’d be fine.

“Ma’am,” the Ferry ticketing attendant tapped on your window to get your attention. 

You sighed deeply as you looked at the big ship, then down to your GPS, telling you there was only a minute to spare if you were gonna get home on time. 

Home. Yours, warm and full of love. His, empty and dark.

“We’ve got a schedule to keep,” the attendant urged. “Are you boarding or not?”

----❄----

The house was still dark but for one light glowing through an upstairs window.

You knocked three times, Rafe’s confused face finally appearing behind the glass. He opened the door with a questioning furrow of his brow. His bag was still packed, sitting right inside the door. You reached down to grab it, throwing it over your shoulder as you said, 

“You owe me a cookie.”

(part two)

a/n: merry everything! I had so much fun writing this! There will be 3 more parts, just a lil present from me to you <3 there will be some hurt, but mostly comfort and a stocking full of fluff!

for updates, follow @whytheylosttheirminds-works and turn on notifs. to be tagged, just ask in the replies or send me an ask!

taglist: @itneverendshere @rafediaries @promiscuousg1rl @eolsens @inlovewrafe

[shotmrmiller]

simon who can afford a better flat than the budget friendly flat he lives in but won't move. johnny doesn't understand. he wants to blame it on simon being the enigmatic, intentionally perplexing man he tends to be but he has a flat.

he doesn't have to. he's got no significant other, no kids (that he knows of, god only knows if simon's got a bairn somewhere. it makes him heated thinking about it. he's it's uncle, damn it.) why does he rent here when living in base is free?

the question answers itself when he's over one evening, empty beer bottles on the table, amber glass reflecting the warm glow of the lone lamp overhead. the television is on, volume turned down, blending with the other sounds of the night— the distant barking of dogs, the quiet hum of simon's fridge, the occasional car passing by outside.

the conversation had died down already, not like they don't spend almost every waking breath with each other at work and they'd been sitting in a comfortable silence when there was a sudden, sharp knock at simon's door.

it startles johnny, reaction instinctive as he reaches for his hip, hand curling around the grip of his holstered gun but simon seems relaxed. he pins him with a look and mutters, "s'alrigh'."

what does he mean it's alright? it's 'witchin' hour'' as his mam calls it, who could possible be at his door? he cranes his neck to look and—

it's you, standing up here with a flour-dusted apron, small hands holding a warm pastry, the steam twisting and curling off of it. you're exude homely charm, soft face glowing from the corridor's light (or maybe it's at the sight of seeing simon, who knows?) he can smell it in the air, sweet, inviting.

what johnny finds interesting enough to send a quick text to kyle is how simon is looking at you. as if you're handing him more than just a custard tart, but also a little piece of heaven, a fragment of a dream he hopes to have one day.

"'m sorry, simon. i wasn't aware you had any company. i just really needed to stress bake or i would've gone off the deep end and end up in prison."

violent little bonnie. he can see the appeal.

simon cups his hands over yours (he definitely did it as an excuse to touch you) as he takes the treat. if you make food to unwind and give it to your neighbors, johnny oughta move in next door too. he'll never turn down free food.

"don't worry about it." johnny's eyebrows shoot to his hairline at the softness in his tone, bottle halfway to his lips.

clearly more than a passing fancy.

"i'll just uhm, if you're friend wants some too—" but simon gently interrupts you before he can ask for some of that sweet comfort too.

"he's not hungry."

cruel, cruel bastard. he'll remember this day, jot it down in his calendar. when he gets a girl of his own, he'll be sure to do the same.

johnny wonders if you've got a crick in your neck from looking up at simon as you speak hushed words, meant only for him. can he get at least a nibble of that tart?

you shoot johnny a shy ㅤsmile before turning around and simon closes the door, turning back to the warming beers, golden tart in hand.

even the plate it's on is cute.

"ah can see the hearts in yer eyes, lt."

johnny can practically hear the air parting as simon's fist cuts through it, aimed at his head. he avoids it with practiced ease. "ooh, touchy. ah'll leave ye be if i get a bite o' tha'."

he doesn't gets not even a crumb because simon is selfish.

(simon moved here purposefully because he knows you live here and can't be at peace without knowing where you are at all times. there's a tag inside your favorite pair of shoes you left out in the hall once to dry after a hard downpour. the bakery you work at is down the street, if he looks out the south facing window, he can see you going in and leaving work. he likes to let himself in your home and smell your cushions. took one of your shirts too but at least made sure it wasn't one of your faves. he has to wash it every other day)

[yyuangss]

GIRL TALK ! ( STAR RAIL MEN )

SUMMARY ! march 7th finds out you like someone. and as your best friend, it’s only right that she has to give her input on whether or not she approves of him.

NOTES ! i was in the mood to write something but this was last minute and this was all i could come up with 🤺 may do a part two featuring other star rail men but we will see. part two of girl talk (gepard, dr. ratio, aventurine, and boothill)

TAGS ! reader is not the trailblazer. contains dan heng, caelus, sampo koski, jing yuan, and argenti. feelings are mutual on both ends.

march 7th’s thoughts on . . . DAN HENG !

immediately tells you that she already had her suspicions. and now that you confirmed it, it makes her all that more excited. you having a crush on dan heng is just what she expected. she’ll go on and on about how you two would make a great couple because he opens up more to you. now she gets a little sneaky and begins to make up excuses whenever missions come around so that the two of you can go together. it’s her own way of being a mastermind. the more time you two spend together, the closer she is to seeing you and dan heng start dating. yes, march has dubbed herself as your personal wingwoman. so is the duty of being your best friend.

march 7th’s thoughts on . . . CAELUS !

of course she finds it cute that you have a crush on caelus. and it all makes sense to her now. she constantly hears you and caelus making the same kind of jokes, watches you two play games together on your phones, and on rare occasions, she’ll find you rummaging through trash cans with caelus. though she doesn’t know why you’d go to such lengths and go through the trash cans with him. admitting your feelings for the newest trailblazer will only make march relentlessly tease you about it in the best way possible. so whenever caelus invites you to join him in whatever shenanigan he has planned for the day, she’ll send a quick wink your way.

march 7th’s thoughts on . . . SAMPO KOSKI !

she’s mentally judging you. definitely finds this as a “to each their own” type of situation. out of everyone you guys have met, the one you have feelings for is sampo. march isn’t too fond of him despite how much he has helped them during their time in belobog. she does have a few doubts here and there, but if he’s currently the one who you’re interested in, she’ll go along with it. march has to observe the way he acts before making any big decisions like setting you two up. she can tell the feeling’s mutual by the overly flirtatious comments sent your way or gifts you receive by sampo when visiting belobog again. she’ll sometimes peek over your shoulder and see some messages coming in from him, asking when you’ll come back to see him. she could grow used to him so let her work her magic and you’ll be with him in no time.

march 7th’s thoughts on . . . JING YUAN !

the general of the luofu is a tough decision. although she believes he’s a great choice considering his high rank and popularity, it’s also a bit of a downfall. she saw some heavy chemistry between you both back when the express was currently at the luofu. she didn’t have enough time to make some comments but she knew you’d end up having some sort of feelings towards him. she’s only worried about the cons that could come. like the fact jing yuan can become a busy man within seconds. would he make enough time for you? no, he needs to because someone like you deserves it. march refuses to let her best friend settle for anything less than what she’s worth. march can trust that you’ll be in good hands with jing yuan.

march 7th’s thoughts on . . . ARGENTI !

it’s a very interesting choice in her opinion. though she understands why you’d end up gaining feelings towards him. it had to be that compliment he gave you the very first time the express met him. “a beauty that was sent by the goddess idrila herself for him to praise”. very poetical that it had the entire crew speechless for a few seconds. march hasn’t stopped bringing it up since that happened because you had never gotten that flustered before. she can only imagine all the other compliments argenti has sent your way when they’re not around. whenever you’re smiling at your phone a little too hard, thinking no one is watching, she’ll head over your way asking if your boyfriend’s the one making you all smiley. march doesn’t even need to be your wingwoman for this one. she knows the knight will handle it all on his own.

[tojisun]

something about best friend simon not knowing any boundaries (or, deliberately bulldozing through boundaries)—

the way he’s the one who picks you up in the airport even though you and your boyfriend already made arrangements for the pick up, but simon just says he offered to take over because your parents needed help setting things up in their lake house and that your boyfriend offered to help them.

(simon made him offer to help. it’s hidden so well behind honest concern that your boyfriend didn’t notice that simon’s been pushing him into the role until simon's calling out his goodbye's, saying he's off to pick you up now.

"oh, i can-"

"don't sweat it, mate," simon replies with a pinched smile. "i'll drive carefully, promise. bring her back, all safe and lovely.")

you didn’t even know simon’s invited to the vacation, but you gladly murmured to him your thanks, too caught up in your exhaustion to notice the little mean grin that tugged his lips up.

you clamber to his rover messily, blinking slowly, and before you can reach over to buckle your seatbelt, simon leans over and does it for you.

"could've done it myself, y'know?" you whine.

"sure you can," he grunts as he pulls himself back to his seat. "not like y'were one blown wind away from keeling over, but sure."

you roll your eyes at him playfully before biting a giggle when he scrunches his nose at you in reply.

he takes the long route back.

"want anythin' to eat?" simon asks after a while.

"don't we—" you pause, yawning. "need to hurry back?"

"not really," he replies, eyes flicking to the side mirror before he rounds a sharp curve. your body jostles, falling to the side, slipping towards the gear, and simon's hand falls to your lap to steady you.

he doesn't remove it even when the road straightens.

"okay," you finally reply, tired eyes blinking at the size of his hand on your leg. "m'kinda hungry."

he huffs a fond laugh and says he knows a place close by.

it's a local burger joint, apparently known for their fries and milkshake. simon buys you one.

"aww," you croon, grabby hands pulling the cold cup closer to you. "thank you, si."

you two eat in his rover, too lazy to actually settle in the diner.

it's greasy and messy and delicious. simon says you look filthy, before reaching over to wipe the stray milkshake on the corner of your lips. you poke your tongue out to him in reply; he says to swallow that back in before he yanks it out.

you laugh, chucking a balled-up napkin towards him before jumping out of his SUV to run to the bathroom.

(you didn't notice the throngs of messages coming in from your boyfriend nor the way simon swiped your phone from your back pocket and kept it.

he remembers your passcode—still unchanged even after all these years—and reads the messages that your boyfriend sent.

he's asking if you've landed or if you and simon are on your way back. he says he also misses you dearly, and that he can't wait to finally be with you again.

simon deletes them all.)

the two of you return when it’s well into the night, and everyone's gone to sleep. you sigh, feeling the exhaustion hitting you harder now, and amble to your room where you know your boyfriend must be waiting for you, only to stop when simon holds your arm.

"wanna sleep with me?"

"what," you begin, turning your sleepy eyes up at him. "no that's alright. my boyfriend's—"

"asleep, already. probably got ordered 'round by your pa, huh?" he smiles, his thumb swiping along the side of your forearm. "y'might wake up the poor lad if you go there so why don't you sleep in my room just for tonight?"

simon's words wash over you and you know, somehow, there's something wrong with them, with him, but your mind is bogged down by your drowsiness. you can't rationalize what's going on, so you say yes.

that's all simon needed to pull you to his room and into his bed.

you slip out of your clothes, per simon's instructions—his words all muffled as you try to stay up awake—and slip into something loose and baggy—stretched in its overuse but so comfortable on your skin.

it's simon's shirt, you'll learn tomorrow, but for now, you drop to the bed, your eyes shut close, and fall in deep sleep.

the last thing you feel is the heavy dip on the mattress behind you before a thick arm is thrown over your side, pressing into the fat of your stomach to push you back and into simon's front.

limbs lay tangled together, breaths shared, and the summer heat buzzing as skin meets skin.

-

simon doesn't get any better after that. he gets so clingy, and intrudes in your space and forces your boyfriend out.

your boyfriend complained, of course he did, but what could you do? what could you say? simon's your childhood friend so there's nothing malicious between you two. there's nothing more into it.

he gave up fighting then, fists tucked close to his sides as you kissed his jaw and told him to trust you on your words.

but—

how can he calm down? how can he not burn in anger when he sees the way simon pulls you to his lap and you readily nuzzle close. granted it's all because the two of you are watching some game on your phone and the position must be the only way to watch it comfortably, whatever, but it rubs him so wrong how familiar you and simon fall into each other.

how can he not doubt your words when he catches simon's eyes narrowed at him in quiet delight, before deliberately curling his arm around your stomach, and throws the other one on your lap, so dangerously close to your crotch.

it's even worse when the family gathers to the lake, and you and simon are chasing each other, playfighting in front of everyone. simon picks you up with ease, big hands digging into the fat of your belly or your thighs or gripping your ass like simon's so intimately familiar with your body.

how can he not hate himself a little bit when he realizes that it was always you and simon. that that's the dynamic.

-

(and if simon successfully seduces you during this vacation, well—)

-

ext

[honey-pages]

On Your Knees - Viktor x Reader

Description -

After confessing his attraction to you, Viktor invites you to visit him in his room.

1.5k words

F/M. 18+. Smut. Blow job.

You had been seeing Viktor now for a week or so, after he expressed his feelings in an unexpected confession. You had been working as his assistant previously and he detailed that he could not, in good conscience, act on his urges when he was in a position of power - as much as you would have wanted him to. Therefore, after your job role changed and you became more independent in your duties, Viktor was back in your line of vision.

It was a well-kept secret that you both were so suited to each other. The other assistants and staff at the lab had their suspicions of your intimacy, but Viktor, noticing the subtle glances, had clarified.

“No, no. Miss (Y/N) is my assistant. I would not take advantage, no matter how charming I may find her.”

You were surprised at his openness. The conversation had gotten back to you through a friend and what could have been understood as a gentle complimentary joke, to you, meant the world. When you finally built up the courage to ask Viktor privately about this, he confirmed. Yes, he had meant it. Although he had also mentioned that a public announcement was not really the way he had intended on doing it.

You had been close since and were still in your early stages of the budding relationship. You decided it was probably time to pay him a visit. He had invited you to his room at around dinnertime. But dinnertime is an ambiguous concept for Viktor as he eats when he can fit it in, and so knowing what time to arrive was a risky decision.

You made a guess that around now was the right time and so you set out for his room. It was oddly quiet around and the walk between your rooms was not too far, you only passed a few people and no one you were well acquainted with. You approached his door after a long corridor. He had told you previously when he had invited you over to just walk straight in and not bother knocking, but that felt a little strange not knowing if he was expecting you or not. Nervousness made its appearance, and you paced slightly while considering your options. There must be a reason that he would encourage you not to knock. This was Viktor. There was probably some unknown secret project that was sound sensitive or something along those lines. You decided to walk in without knocking.

Viktor's door opened silently into a hallway which, in turn, opens into his living and workspace. His work desk is in his living room you remembered, although the light suggests that he is currently on his sofa. You put down your bag and kick off your shoes – its polite practice. You quietly turn the corner to face his living room, hoping to not disturb him by chance he was sleeping or working. In front of you, central to the sofa, Viktor sat with his hand around his cock.

His head was fallen back against the backrest of the chair and his eyes were closed. His mouth hung open, his face jerking around with the furious motion of his arm. He was panting, lost in the pleasure he was giving to himself. You had not seen him like this before. Sure, you had shared a kiss or so and light touching, but to see him so primal and vulnerable, so explicit. Standing and watching as he pleasured himself ignited some deep lust you had not yet unleashed for him, something strong and needy and -seeing him like this? - desperate.

His raw moans seemed to bring out vague words, peppered with the sound his hand made when reaching the bottom of his shaft. A repeated light slapping sound.

“Oh, fuck- “He choked out, softly to himself, as though he was struggling for breath. “(Y/N) …”

You freeze up a little bit at your mention. It suddenly made the situation so real, so red, so lustful.

“Yes?” You reply hushed, in fear of startling him, marvelling at him as though he was some mysterious undisturbed presence.

He jolted in his seat a little at your reply.

“How long have you been watching?” He managed, his grip loosened and slowed, now taking twice as long from tip to base, but not ceasing. A blush swept his face.

His hair fell around his face as he raised his head forwards, fixing his eyes on you the second they opened. He held you there in intense intimacy. You had no idea what to reply. You did not want to give the impression you had stood there fixated for too uncomfortably long. But how long had you been stood there? You had no idea. You were lost in this train of thinking when the thought of him reemerged.

“I um- Just a minute I think?” Was all you could string together; you were flustered seeing him like this.

“Come here” He purred, patting his knee with his free hand.

You approached him carefully, stomach in knots.

“Please, Miss (Y/N), on your knees”.

You lower yourself before him, settling yourself between his thighs on your knees.

“I really did mean it when I said I found you charming.”

He smiles warmly, his hand still slowly stroking himself. His gaze is intense, focused and fixed. He looks into your eyes, maybe watching the reflection of the light in them that made them glint, or maybe watching the outline of his cock in their reflection. It was unbreakable. The bond between you was powerful, inevitable even.

“Now please, (Y/N), open your mouth for me.”

You moved your face forward, level with him. His intense focus eased to a warmer output of eager want, his eyebrows hiking up at their insides, his face ready to melt itself into the open-mouthed submission he was offering you. You cast him a smile in return, a guarantee that you will satisfy. Your mouth salivated, and you hold him gently in one hand, lowering your mouth to run your hot tongue from the base of him to the top.

He shudders instantly, gripping the base of the sofa more firmly with his legs to steady himself, his head falling back once more, breaking the eye contact. His hand is propped lightly against his thigh, and at this sensation he tenses and flexes his fingers. Trailing your way up and down him, you flick your tongue over the tip, before engulfing him into the heat of your wet mouth. At this, his eyes open, and he stares breathlessly at the ceiling. Both of his hands come to meet at the back of your head and fix themselves into your hair, holding firmly but gently.

“Oh, fuck.” He mutters out a few unintelligible words before he settles on some that are understandable, “Your mouth- you’re…please, slow down.”

His grip in your hair holds tighter as his hips begin to jerk themselves upwards, betraying his composure. His eyes flash down to ensure he’s not choking you in doing so, he knows his size is more than adequate.

“Do you mind if I?” He asks, beginning to slowly take control of your head, moving it at his will to use your mouth as he wishes.

“No, you don’t mind, do you? You look too content in the knowledge that you’ve almost tipped me over the edge already Miss (Y/N).” A small grin seeps into his smile, dirty and knowing.

You work hard on matching the rhythm he is setting you with the pace of your tongue. You wrap it around him and swirl it in time with his upward thrusts, pushing and pulling him further into your mouth, to fill and force his way into the barrier of your throat. Your spit is beginning to drip at the corners of your mouth, down your chin, and he notices, wiping it away with his fingers.

“So very beautiful. I have always thought so, but now its undoubtable. You are going to swallow all of me, aren’t you?”

You nod in satisfaction; you can’t wait to see him undone. At your consent, he speeds up once more, becoming more frantic and fast without sacrificing his gentle hold. His whimpers turn into moans and expletives and his throat is purring. You feel him get harder and stiffer under your hands and tongue as he comes to his end.

“I’m going to- “He pants, “Its- “

You push him deeper than before, holding him there as you feel his cock spasm, pulsating as it thrusts forward, filling you fully.

“Oh fuck, (Y/N)- “

You swallow him. He wheezes as he catches his breath back, red faced and sweating, he sits still for a moment. After resting for a few moments, stroking your hair with his hand, he pulls you up onto the sofa next to him. He draws you close, wrapping his arms around you and bringing your head to his bare chest.

“I got quite carried away there.” He manages, hands finding their way to your shoulders, moving to tilt up your chin to face him. “I didn’t go too fast, did I?”

You smile and shake your head as a reply, seeing him fully relaxed and finished has left him dishevelled and hot and his warmth is meting into yours as you lay on him.

“I think it’s time I return the favour.”

[satoruan]

LESSONS IN CORRUPTION w/Gojo Satoru

IN WHICH: Your teacher finally has his way with you at the end of senior year

( TW ): fem!Reader, dark & explicit content, mean and manipulative teacher!Gojo, Porn w/ no plot, corruption kink, power dynamics, virgin!reader, unprotected sex, cream pie, size difference, breeding kink, blood, fingering, age gap (reader is 19, Gojo late 20's), Gojo secretly records, half edited

Word count - › 1.6K

“You know I love you right?” Satoru asks, cupping your face. 

“I love you too.” You smile up at him as he fingers your pussy. 

“Loved you ever since I laid eyes on you—ever since you walked in my class with that short skirt and those white knee-high socks. My innocent schoolgirl.” He leans down to kiss you on the rose-covered hotel bed.  

It was your graduation party last week, but he said couldn’t make it to your party at your parent’s house, said he had an important meeting, and RSVP no to your parents’ invitation but when you asked them, they looked at you incredulously and asked why they’d send invitations to your teachers. When you went to school for your last week and told this to Gojo he said he did get an invitation and your parents told you that so you wouldn’t get upset that he couldn’t make it. 

—

“Gotta surprise for you though.” Gojo smiles up at you from his chair. You’re sitting on his desk, feet resting on the armrest of your teacher’s chair. Gojo can see your panty-clad pussy from his position under you, but he doesn’t say anything. He knows you’d be embarrassed if you knew he could see your Hello Kitty panties.  

“Really? What is it is!” You set your salad down so he could have your full attention, you know he doesn’t like it when you focus on anything else--even if it’s something as simple as food. You think it’s romantic how much he needs your full attention. 

“Well since I couldn’t come to your party, I figured I should throw you another party, this time just us. It could be our special party.” 

“Oh my god, really?” You throw yourself in his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. His cologne engulfs you. 

“Mhm, and guess what? It’s gonna be a sleepover party at that new fancy hotel that just opened downtown. You excited Princess?” Gojo wraps his arms around your waist, discreetly rubbing his semi on your pussy. 

“Super-duper excited! When is it? Please say soon!” You cheer, innocently bouncing in his lap. Your pussy clenching when you feel his cock rub down the length of your damped cunt. You hope he doesn’t notice. 

“This weekend schoolgirl, your parents approved n’ everything.” He informs you, holding you down on his now rock-solid cock.  

He couldn’t wait for this weekend.  

“Really?” 

“Really, but they told me they want you to tell them you’re staying at your best friend’s house,” you open your mouth to question why but his grip on your waist tightens and he looks down at you angrily. “Don’t question us y/n, you know your parents and I know what we’re doing. Were the adults, you’re just a child, understand?” 

“Yes, Sir.” You nod, not wanting to upset him when he’s always so good to you.  

“Good girl, now finish your lunch sweetheart—no stay on my lap I make sure you eat it right.” 

—

Gojo glances at the nightstand, ensuring his phone is set up before he looks back at you. Rose petals underneath, nipples puckered, and eyes crossed you look like an angel. His angel. 

“Sir! I-it feels weird down there—I think I gotta pee.” Your pussy clenches around his fingers. 

“Just let it happen, princess,” He curls his fingers into your g-spot, his other hand going to rub your clit. Your legs start to shake, and you try to clamp them shut but Satoru’s thighs keep them in place. “Don't—That’s it, let go, let it happen.” 

You never knew what it was like to orgasm, Satoru has only told you what it would be like, but this—this—you could get used to the way your pussy contracts on your teacher’s fingers and your mind goes blank. 

Your hands fly down to his wrists once it’s over, suddenly overwhelmed. 

“S’too much ‘Toru, please no more!” You cry out, another mini orgasm washing over you.  

“Gotta prep you—get you wet enough for my cock sweet girl,” he takes his fingers out of your cunt, and your juices following in suit. “Think you’re ready?” 

“Mhm.” You look up at him like he hung the moon and stars. Right now, if he told you he did—you’d believe him. 

He brings his wet fingers to your mouth, and instinctively you open your mouth. He shoves them in. 

“Can’t wait to see this small pussy take a dick too big, too old for ‘er.” He groans at the thought, pulling his now clean fingers out of your mouth to pull his boxers off.  

You gasp when you see it jump out. It’s huge, the tip is an angry shade of red, and his balls look ready to explode any second. You don’t think with all the prep in the world you could take it. 

“It’s too big, Sir.” you whimper, shyly backing away from him.  

“Don’t run away from me y/n, how many lessons does it take for you to get ‘Don’t question your elders’ through that little brain of yours,” he pulls you back, slapping your pussy. “C’mon now, didn’t you say you loved me?” He pouts, looking down at you with puppy eyes. Your heart clenches. 

“Course I love you—I can take it. I promise.” You grab his face, the one you’ve spent the last semester admiring from afar, and kiss him the way he taught you. 

“Yea?” 

“Mhm.” You lay back down and wrap your legs around his hips. 

He grabs his cock, the head soaked with your juices, and slowly pushes it in. You gasp from the sudden intrusion. His fingers did nothing to prepare you for his girthy cock. He pulls out again before pushing in, this time a few more inches. He repeats this movement until you're filled to the brim. He looks down and chuckles. Only two-thirds of his cock is in your too-small pussy. Blood trickles out the side of your pussy. 

“Hurts.” You cry. He looks up to see thick tears flowing down your cheeks. 

He thinks about comforting you, but he can’t get his mind off your tight pussy. He’s too worried about not cumming prematurely than comforting you.  

“Shh, it’ll feel better soon honey, just lay there and take it.” He starts to move in and out of your cunt. Using your blood as extra lube. 

You claw at his back from the overwhelming feeling of your pussy being stretched. Satoru grunts above you, sucking hickeys all over your breast. After the ninth thrust, you start to moan, the pain quickly turning into pleasure. 

“Sir! Feels s’good.” You moan.  

“Your cunt feels surreal princess, never felt anything like this, think I might need to fuck my students more.” He says into your neck, speeding up when his balls start to clench and ache with the need to release. 

Suddenly, you’re overcome with a surge of jealousy, the thought of him fucking the other girls when you leave for college, teaching them how to kiss, and letting them sit on his lap and eat lunch every day makes you want to cry and scream and the same time. He’s yours! He doesn’t get to fuck anyone else, nobody else should be bleeding on his cock and cumming on his fingers.  

“S’not fair! You’re mine, only mine!” You wrap your legs around his hips, pulling him impossibly closer to you, in you. 

“Then prove it little girl, show me that I belong to you.” He shoves his lips on your pouting ones. 

You throw your arms around his neck and buck into his hips, determined to show him that he only needs you. That you’re enough to satisfy all his needs. 

“Fuck, ‘m gonna cum deep in this cunny. Gonna fill you up—watch you get full with my baby and have to drop out of college before you even finish the first semester!” His thrusts turn sloppy, bruising your swollen cunt. 

“Yes, give me your baby Sir, please!” You moan, suddenly thinking about a life with him and a baby you two 've created. You’ve never felt so empty. 

“Please, please, need ‘ur baby s’bad!” You slur, legs tightening around his waist. 

“‘M cummin’ schoolgirl, ‘m fucking my baby into your too-small cunt.” Satoru groans, his balls contracting as he shoots his load into your womb. 

The sensation of being filled causes you to orgasm again, the world going blank for a few seconds.  

“Shit!” Satoru lays over top of you, the weight of him making you wheeze. You lay there silently for a few minutes, unable to form a coherent thought. 

“W-was that good?” you question when your mind clears, thinking back to what he said about fucking other girls. 

“Of course it was princess, best I’ve ever had.” He reassures all the while his mind is racing, thinking ‘bout the new girl that just transferred to your school. He kisses you as he places a bet with himself ‘How long would it take to get her breed full of his child too.’ 

[kooqitas]

#pairing: jungkook x reader.

#genre: smut MINORS DNI | #w.c: ~1800

#synopsis: crying on jungkook's shoulder might not have been the smartest idea in the world since now he's fucking you while your ex is calling.

#warnings: vaginal sex, unprotected sex, oral sex (f.), namjoon ex bf, rough sex. jk has a bick dick. maybe phone sex?

★ m.list | inbox :D join my taglist

it was friday when jungkook texted you asking if you were gonna the college party, and of course your answer was 'no'. breaking up with namjoon was one thing, but seeing him at a party where he would probably kiss several girls in front of you was a bit too much

"you can't stay home while the biggest party of the semester is going on"

'"yes i can, and i will!"

"god, why are you so complicated? at least come over to my house, i won't leave you suffering alone'

"i'm not suffering, jungkook!'

that's a lie. you were. a lot.

you ended up accepting jungkook's invitation, at first feeling bad for ruining the party for him, but jungkook was always the person who made you comfortable, usually when you went to parties with namjoon, he was the one who always stayed by your side while namjoon got drunk with his friends, he was the one who took you and namjoon home, the reality is that jungkook spent much more time by your side than your, now ex, boyfriend.

jungkook was excited, he came over and offered you wine and before you knew it you were on the couch, with your legs over his while he tried to convince you that it was namjoon who had lost you, not the other way around.

"he fuck so good, jungkook," you admitted, clearly overcome by the drink (added to your fertile period that made your panties damp at that very moment). "that pisses me off. he's arrogant, stupid, i hate him... but damn, the sex was so good"

jungkook laughed, as affected by the alcohol as you were, it's not like he'd never heard namjoon talk about sex with you, how wild and rough you two were.

it wasn't like jungkook had never heard you two...

but in that situation, knowing that you weren't together anymore, it was a little different...

"he pulled my hair, hit me, called me a whore, damn, it was so good, i can complain about him in many ways, except for this one, the son of a bitch made me cum like no one else"

"jesus!" jungkook said, taking a sip of his drink.

okay, things need to be pointed out, yes, jungkook was gorgeous, damn, he was hot, but you had never thought of him as a 'man' he was just your boyfriend's best friend, who always hung out with you at parties, who danced with you on the dance floor, who complimented your clothes and makeup, who complimented your smell, your lip gloss...

"i hope one day i can find someone who fucks me like him," you blurted out.

and jungkook took a deep breath, motivated a little by the drink, but deep down he knew that if it wasn't right then he might never have another chance. i mean, it was crazy, of course it was, who in their right mind would try to have sex with their best friend's ex-girlfriend when it hasn't even been a month since they broke up...

but jungkook wasn't the sanest person at the moment, in fact he never was when it came to you, not when he jerked off in the bathroom of namjoon's parents' beach house last month after seeing you parading around the pool in a red bikini.

"i can fuck you like him, in fact... i can fuck you even better"

"what?" you choked on your own saliva when you heard that.

jungkook took advantage of the fact that your legs were on top of his and started to leave a mischievous caress on your knee

"i told you i can fuck you better than him"

"jungkook..." you scolded him, but deep down that idea excited you.

"hi, love"

"fuck, that's not right"

"why not, why the hell are you so scared to do that?

"it's not for me, it's for you"

"well, i don't care... i've wanted to fuck you for a while now"

you choked again, but before you could say anything, jungkook took the glass from your hand and laid down with his body on top of yours.

you were going to ask again what the hell was that, what the hell was he doing, but jungkook kissed you, and there, fuck any lucid thought you could have.

the taste of wine in his mouth, his hot tongue entering your mouth with voracity, fuck any conscious shit, you needed to fuck with jungkook at that moment.

it was a blur until you were only in your panties underneath him while he sucked your tits, using his hand to play with the free nipple in a somewhat abrupt way, he seemed desperate, in reality, he was desperate, jungkook had been thinking about fucking you for so long that it seemed like a joke from the universe.

he finally took off his shirt and you smiled with his chest exposed, and jungkook just grunted, going back to kissing you while the tie of his shorts hit your waist. you knew he would be big, but nothing expected you for what you saw when he pulled down his shorts with his underwear all at once.

jungkook's cock was big, thick, full of veins and the purple head was already leaking precum. you couldn't hide your scared face when you saw it, making jungkook laugh.

'what's wrong?'

'fuck, that won't fit...'

'yes, it will, love, i'm gonna suck you and open you up for me, you're gonna take every inch of it and be a good girl on my cock!'

you gasped, agreeing, and jungkook laughed again, trailing kisses down your belly until he reached your panties... you quickly lifted your hips, a silent request for him to remove the fabric right away, and he obeyed.

the first thing jungkook did was smell your wet panties, the scene almost made you cum.

"if you taste as good as you smell, fuck, kitten..."

and jungkook sucked your clit, you moaned loudly, holding his hair. it was a mix of desperation and pleasure that you only felt when you had sex while stoned with your ex, and there was jungkook, ok, not 100% sober, but wanting you so fucking much...

you didn't even see when he inserted a finger, but at a certain point you were grabbing the couch's upholstery because he had three fingers inside you while he sucked your clit, your hips lifting desperately seeking more contact, at the same time trying to pull away, jungkook's long hair tickling your belly nicely, the way he put his fingers deeper and deeper...

you saw the ceiling of the room spin, and the next second jungkook had only his mouth on you.

sucking every drop.

you had never been sucked so well, but you were far from satisfied, so you were just grateful when without any prior warning jungkook entered you.

fuck, it burned, he was so fucking big. jungkook laughed, trying to contain his own arousal while you got used to his size. he ran his hand over your nipples, squeezing the tip, rubbing his fingertips on your belly, on your thigh... all while looking at you as if he wanted to devour you... and he did.

"jungkook..."

just his name was enough for him to understand, and then he thrust, his balls hitting you full on made you see stars. and the rhythm only increased, along with the brutality.

"i've wanted you like this for so long, fuck, imagining my cock destroying that tiny pussy"

you grabbed his shoulder, immersed in your own feeling and the noises you were making.

but something took you out of orbit.

ir rather, someone.

the shrill ring of the phone with the name 'namjoon' on the screen. you ignored the first call, the second, but on the third jungkook got irritated, he swiped right and simply accepted the call. your eyes widened, mumbling a 'what?'

but all jungkook said back was an 'answer', stopping his thrusting into you.

you obeyed.

damn the time you obeyed.

"where the fuck are you? why didn't you come to the party?"

"i... hm?"

"i'm asking why you didn't come to this fucking party, i got all dressed up, i bought a fucking bouquet, i bought your favorite chocolate, where the fuck are you?" namjoon was irritated, visibly irritated.

"i..." you tried to answer, fuck, what would you say to him? "i jus-OH" you moaned loudly, when jungkook moved inside you again, a little less aggressive than before, still strong.

you whispered a 'stop' but jungkook ignored it, laughing when you put your hand over your mouth trying not to moan loudly.

"you what?" namjoon questioned from the other side.

"i... i'm not very- very well" you choked on your own moans, while jungkook laughed.

you looked at him desperately, but he just laughed, whispering for you to continue talking on the phone. and of course you could hang up and end it all, but that feeling was so good... you felt like a slut, but you had never felt so good.

jungkook slapped your breasts audibly, enough for namjoon to hear.

"what's going on there?"

"nothing... is just thFUCK, JUNGKOOK!" you screamed without thinking as jungkook thrust even harder, the couch scraping on the living room floor as his balls slammed violently against you.

"wait, what? you said WHAT?"

at this point in the game, fuck any shit, you just ignored your ex-boyfriend, moaning loudly as jungkook fucked you like an animal, you knew namjoon was listening, he was following the line, but fuck any shit, you needed to cum, and thanks to this disgusting situation you would cum soon.

"are you fucking with my best friend? what type of whore are you?"

"my whore." jungkook took the phone from your hand, still thrusting angrily. "i'm fucking her delicious pussy, the one you kept telling me was tight, that it was delicious, fuck, you were right, it's so fucking delicious!"

and jungkook hung up, still laughing at you.

namjoon returned the call, the phone vibrating in jungkook's hand as he laughed evilly.

jungkook pressed the phone to your clit, the vibration being enough to make you cum exactly 10 seconds later, but jungkook went further...

he accepted namjoon's call, only to turn it into a video call, and then show his (maybe now ex) best friend, a video with a perfect angle of him cumming inside you.

before namjoon could say anything, jungkook hung up, his heavy body falling on top of yours.

"fuck that..." you tried to say.

"shhhh, let's think about it later? i just lost my best friend"

"do you regret it?"

"it depends... will I be able to fuck you more often?"

you thought, and it was pretty clear that you wanted to again, so why lie?

"if you want..."

"then no, fuck, i only regret not trying before..."

"u are crazy..." you laughed.

[mywritersmind]

GO OUT WITH ME - LN4

summary : Lando doesn’t beg. But when it comes to y/n, he can’t help it.

listen up : nothing big to note! just cuteness

word count : 945

⋆｡‧˚⋆

“Go out with me.” He says for the third time today, watching me swipe on my strawberry lip gloss. I pocket the bottle into my jeans pocket, crossing my arms over my black vest. I look to Lando who’s behind me in his papaya suit.

“Could you please stop bothering my friend?” Oscar says, sitting on a stool in his own driver's room.

“I will if she says yes.” He looks at me with big blue eyes, smiling. Too bad I have to crush his dreams.

“No.” I shrug and look back to my childhood best friend.

“Why are you even here, Lan?” Oscar leans his head back against the wall.

“What do you mean? I love hanging out with my bestie!” He stands, messing with Oscar’s hair. I laugh a bit and his face lights up, “Go out with me.”

“Goodbye Lando!” Oscar pushes him out the door and slams it in his face. “You know he will stop if you ask him, right?”

I look at my manicure, sighing, “Yeah, I know.”

⋆｡‧˚⋆

Lando won. I go to a race to watch Oscar and everywhere I turn, Landos face is being projected onto some screen. I was there in Miami and now I'm here in the Netherlands.

I’m leaving the paddock when I literally run into the man. I told you he’s everywhere!

He’s smiling like I've never seen before, sweaty and laughing before he looks up at me, “Shit, Y/n! I’m sorry.”

“No problem.” I shake my head, “Congrats, by the way.” He bites his lip, his suit unzipped and water bottle in hand.

“Thanks! You must be a good luck charm.” he winks and I'm thoroughly reminded how attractive he is. I won’t go out with him but that doesn’t mean I can’t appreciate him.

“You going out to celebrate?” He’s walking with me through the hall.

“Nah I want fast food and a movie.” He shakes his head, a curl falling onto his forehead. “Join me?”

“Bye, Norris.” I walk out the door.

I can practically hear the smile in his sweet accent, “See you later, Y/l/n.”

⋆｡‧˚⋆

I knock on Oscar’s door repeatedly, “Open up, Idiot!”

No reply.

My stupid best friend hasn’t responded to me all night, we had plans for me to cheer him up after his crappy race but he’s totally ditching me!

“That’s my room.” I freeze when he speaks. The British accent is one that I will not confuse with Oscars.

I slowly turn to Lando, “Oh.”

“Any reason you’ve come for a visit?” He holds a bucket of ice and a dutch chocolate bar. “Change your mind about the date?”

I pull my lips into a thin line, “No! I’m looking for Oscar.”

He walks closer to me, “We switched rooms. He's a level down.”

“Shit.” I roll my eyes, “You think he’s asleep?”

“Definitely. Seemed wiped after today.” He shrugs and eyes the bag I'm holding.

I was supposed to cheer him up after a crappy race, I bought all the Australian treats I could find, “Great.” I sigh. ”He’s leaving tomorrow morning so now I’m stuck with all these snacks.”

“Snacks?” Lando almost laughs, “Poor you, stuck with food.”

“Australian snacks! We were supposed to watch ‘How to lose a guy in ten days’ and he was supposed to complain about it!” I frown, I don’t get to see Oscar often even though he’s just come from break, I barely saw him.

Lando unlocks his room, “I’m sorry. I’d invite you in but I'm assuming you’d say no.”

“Lando Norris… Are you giving up?”

His head shoots up when I say it, “No! I’m respecting your wishes.” He opens the door and walks in, clearly waiting for me to make my decision.

I push past him and jump the snacks onto his bed, “Oscar told me you don’t like tim tams.”

⋆｡‧˚⋆

An hour later I find myself watching Oscar and I’s movie with Lando. He’s actually really funny, and genuinely thinks this movie is hilarious.

I’m caught looking at him, “Everything okay?”

I nod slowly, pretending like I wasn’t just examining his face, “Can I ask you something?” He nods, “If I said yes… to a proper date- what would you do?”

He smiles, “Probably jump for joy, if i’m being honest.”

I roll my eyes.

“You know I don’t just ask you out on some whim right?“ He’s being serious. “I like you. I want to get to know you more.” He says it so casually but I can tell he’s nervous.

I can’t breathe, “More than just Oscar's friend?”

Lando shakes his head, toying with a candy in his hand, “You’ve always been more than Oscar's friend.”

“Then, yes.” I’m certain this time.

“Yes?”

“Yes i’ll go out with you.”

He blinks.

“You better not be joking.”

“I’m not!” I laugh and he puts his head into his hands, “Lando!”

“I knew you’d come around!” He points at me before pausing again, “This isn’t some pity thing, right? Just because I’m alone after I won doesn’t mean I’m all sad or something!”

“Lando.” I try but he keeps going.

“I did win, after all! And I don’t want you to say yes because of that either because it’s cool and all but I am more than a win also I swear I have other friends besides Os-”

“Lando!” I laugh and grab his face. He stops speaking, “I want to go out with you. Because you’re you.”

I can feel his heart beating, “That’s good.”

“Very good.” I agree. His smile hits me once more and I match it, “You’re cute.”

“I think I'm dreaming.”

note : race was TOUGHHH today😭 had to write smt happy to cope. loved it for charles tho can’t lie! hope you enjoy!

[bananayuyu]

Lust is in the Air

Pairing: Hongjoong x f reader

Genre: smut

Word count: 6.4k

Summary: Your best friend drags you along to a family wedding, wanting to add some fun to your all too serious life. Turns out her uncle is the one who really provides the distraction.

Warnings: smut, MDNI, age gap (Hongjoong is 40 reader is 23), some talk during sex about the age gap so really don't read this if you don't like that, some dom/sub dynamics, throat fucking, degradation and praise, bratty y/n, use of pet names (baby, doll), ass eating, anal, unprotected sex

A/n: Sometimes I see a random video of him and I'm reminded all over again how hot I think a very mature Hongjoong would be. Especially if he was mocking me and making me feel pathetic. Yeah this was pure horny, quite filthy for me. This isn't as proofread as my normal stuff so apologies for any mistakes

------

Well, maybe it was a good idea. You had been staying in every weekend since the breakup, and maybe being forced out of the house would be good for you. Force you to interact with a few people, to actually put some effort into your appearance. Maybe put on a little makeup, or actually brush your hair.

"Please don't say no," Beatrice says through the phone. "My family would love it if you came, and I'd love it if you came. And we haven't had a chance to spend a weekend like this in forever. There will be free food and free booze!"

"I know you're worried about me, Bea," you respond, sighing.

"I'm not inviting you out of pity," she says.

"I know, I know. Just, give me some time to think it over. I've got an assignment I need to finish for one of my classes, I think it's due this Sunday night. So if I can't finish it this week I'll need to do it this weekend," you reply.

"Okay, just text me. I'm not gonna invite anyone else as my plus one, if you don't end up coming. So no rush, take your time," she says.

"Thank you. You know I appreciate you so much," you say, sighing into the cushion of your couch.

"You know I feel the same," she says, sighing too. You'd both been through breakups recently. It seemed like your hardships always occurred on nearly the same timeline, making you both able to rely on each other for understanding. And she knew getting you out of the house, especially for a weekend wedding, would be good for you. Her cousin's family was rich and hadn't held back in their planning, booking the fanciest hotel in town for everyone. They were paying for everything; the food and drinks of course, and everyone's hotel expenses. You'd knew you'd go. You'd try to finish the assignment beforehand. But even if you didn't, you'd still go.

Driving up to the front of the hotel together felt surreal. Beatrice had asked to take your car, as it wasn't the bright purple color that her's was. This place was fancy, and though neither of your cars were deluxe, at least your's was black.

"Miss McArthur?" the valet asked once you rolled your window down.

"Yeah, that's me," Beatrice said from the passenger seat, reaching over you to hand him her ID. "This is my plus one, y/n. She should be on the list."

After a brief look at his clipboard the man gave you both a satisfied nod. "Do you ladies have any bags we can carry up for you?" he asked.

"Yes, in the trunk," Beatrice answered for you, which you were grateful for. You'd never interacted with a valet before, never been in such a fancy situation in your life. You stumbled out of the car a bit awkwardly, your jean shorts and t-shirt looking ridiculous next to the suit and tie of the man in front of you. He held out his hand to you and for a moment you paused, wondering if he was offering to take your hand. But then you realized he was actually offering to take your keys. Duh.

"Thank you," you said quickly, heading around the car to meet Bea as you walked behind the man carrying your bags.

On the sixth floor you entered your shared room, a spacious and beautifully decorated space with a huge window covering the far wall. It was a sliding glass door, that led out to a balcony overlooking the river below. In the afternoon sun the water glittered, but you knew the view at night would be the real show, absolutely magical.

"Everyone is meeting in the restaurant at 7," Bea tells you, glancing at her family's group chat.

"Well then I've got a little over two hours to make myself look at least a little bit nice. Like maybe I actually belong here," you laugh, opening your bag to grab the casual dress you'd packed.

"Oh dinner tonight won't be fancy, wear whatever," Bea replies, kicking off her sandals.

"Okay but, with your cousins family not fancy would still probably be a little fancy, right?" you ask.

"You don't need to worry about fitting in, dude. No one will care," Bea replies.

"I just don't want to look like an idiot," you say, eyeing her.

"Y/n, you really need to stop worrying. This weekend is about us having fun. I'm not even that close with my cousin Amana, to be honest. We'll probably barely interact with her family. But we get to attend this fancy wedding, all expenses paid. Just wear whatever you feel like, do whatever you want to. Just promise me you'll have some fun," she says.

"Okay, fine," you respond, rolling your eyes jokingly. "I guess I'll try to enjoy this super nice luxury hotel for the weekend."

Bea laughs in relief, at hearing you joke around. It was what you both needed more of; you both had serious work and school lives already to contend with. And seriously disappointing dating lives, too.

As seven approaches you both make your way to the elevator, pausing at you exit the door to inspect the slight amount of makeup you'd put on. You hadn't worn any in weeks and it made you feel really pretty, along with the flowly sundress and sandals you'd decided to wear. You weren't always one for such feminine clothing but today it felt right, and you both bounced down the hall, spirits high. Bea led the way through the lobby to a long hallway, past what looked like a bar and some other room that had a bouncer, to the large restaurant at the end. Immediately you saw the long tables lined up, clearly set up for the wedding party. This wasn't the dress rehearsal, just the welcome dinner. It was only Friday, and the wedding wasn't until Sunday. Immediately you spotted the wine and appetizers filling the table, scanning the tables to try to find your seats.

"I can't find us Bea," you laugh, awkwardly walking past family members you'd never met before.

"Y/n, you're at our table," you hear a familiar female voice say, and turn to see Bea's mom.

"Oh, hi! Thank you!" you say as you walk over to her, giving her a quick hug.

"So glad you could join us sweetie," she says, gesturing to your seats. "See, you and Beatrice are near the end there, across from Nathan. Oh and have you met Beatrice's uncle Hongjoong before?" she asks, gesturing down the table.

You look down to see Beatrice sitting, pulling her chair under her and smiling wide. Across from her, in a casual but fitted grey t-shirt, a man smiles back, handing her a glass of wine he's just poured. He is striking, with jet black hair and tattoos, piercings donning his right ear. His jaw is sharp, his teeth perfect when he smiles. He looks maybe 27, 28. He's wearing an expensive watch, or at least a watch that looks expensive to your eyes, and a small simple chain necklace. His hair is cropped short at the sides; he looks so put together, so professional. So mature. So fucking attractive.

"That's Bea's uncle?" you ask her. It's not just his age that makes you ask. It's the fact that he's basically your dream come true. You see the muscles in his arm flex as he pours Nathan a glass too, and it makes your eyes cross for a moment.

"Well technically I think he's a second cousin, once removed, or something like that. He's a part of Wooyoung's family." Wooyoung was her husband, Bea's dad. You'd met her parents, and her brother Nathan, but never anyone else in her extended family. And you struggled to recall ever hearing about a Hongjoong before. You stared at him a moment before he moved his eyes over to you, catching you off guard. His look was mischievous, like he wants to play or mess with you. It made it hard to believe this was someone Bea called 'uncle.'

"Do you want to sit?" Bea's mom asked you.

"Yeah, sorry," you smiled at her, making you way down.

"Y/n! This is my uncle Hongjoong, and Hongjoong, this is y/n," Beatrice says as you pull out your seat next to her.

"Very nice to meet you," he says with an outstretched hand, his handshake strong and confident in a way that makes your body tingle.

"You as well," you reply, with a bashful smile. Immediately Bea asks you a question and you respond on auto-pilot, not even really hearing. Because your head is swimming in water just from being in this man's presence, and you can't focus. You don't even notice the glass of wine he'd poured you until he sets it down by your appetizer plate, gently bumping the stem on the rim of the plate to make a gentle clink. The sound makes your eyes snap up, and for some reason he looks amused.

"Oh, thank you," you say to him, bowing your head slightly. That mischievous smirk is back on his face when you lock eyes again, like he's trying to tell you something, but you can't be sure what it is. You certainly hope he's thinking what you're thinking. God, he's fucking stunning.

Those are the only words you speak to each other for the entirety of dinner. With so many people in attendance the restaurant is loud, louder still as everyone becomes tipsy, and then outright drunk on the unlimited wine.

"Hey, my parents want me a Nathan to go take pictures with them on the golf course nearby. They booked a photo shoot or something," Bea tells you, rolling her eyes slightly. "I'm not sure when we'll be back but feel free to like, go to the hot tub or do whatever around the hotel," she says.

"Okay, sounds good. Thank you, seriously," you say as you hug her. "I hope it's fun."

"Oh, I'm sure it will be," she laughs. "My parents and their family photos," she shakes her head, making you giggle, as she slowly makes her way to meet her brother at the front door of the restaurant.

You take stock of yourself for a moment, making sure you have your phone and your wallet in your purse, making sure your room key is still in your wallet. You take the last swig of your second glass of wine, patting yourself on the back for not overdoing it this first night when basically everyone around you did. You start sipping on your nearly empty glass of water too, knowing you don't want to wake up hungover tomorrow. The table is basically empty, with everyone slowly clearing out or making their last requests at the bar. You decide you'll go explore in a moment, go scope out the pool and hot tub situation, and maybe see if you can figure out what room is behind that bouncer. But just as you start standing up, Hongjoong approaches the table.

"I got some more waters for the table, but it looks like they've all left," he chuckles, his arms full.

"They went to do a family photo, Bea said," you reply, stuck for a moment awkwardly between sitting and standing. Hongjoong nods, like he already knew.

"Oh, were you about to leave too? Don't let me keep you," he says, the glint back in his eye again.

"I was thinking I'd go take a look at the pool and hot tub, maybe explore a bit," you say. It sort of takes you by surprise that you're sharing this with a total stranger, given your usual instinct to not share anything with people you don't know. You easily could have excused yourself, and been exploring the hotel alone. But deep down you know why you're sharing it. You hope he picks up on that reason, too.

"That's a great idea," he says, gently setting the waters down. "Mind if I join you? I was thinking of exploring the hotel some myself."

Bingo. You smile, eyes fluttering at him for a second. You truly don't even mean to do it, but the way he looks at you has you feeling shameless.

"Sure, I wouldn't mind," you reply, stepping out from your chair and gently pushing it into the table.

"Want to take a water with you?" he asks, holding one out.

"I don't think we can just take the glass with us," you reply, narrowing your eyes at him.

"Oh, who cares," he says glancing over his shoulder, seeing all of the wait staff occupied at the bar with everyone's last minute orders. "I'll carry it out, if you're that worried," he says, cocking his head slightly to the side and eyeing you with what must be mock pity.

"Fine," you roll your eyes at him, trying to fight the smile forming on your face from betraying how much his tone and facial expression are affecting you. You turn around and start strolling out of the restaurant, not even waiting for him. Once you're exiting he's already caught up, two water glasses in hand. You turn to your right, heading for the lobby.

"Wrong way, y/n," Hongjoong says lowly from behind you, making you stop in your tracks. "The pool is out those doors at the end of the hall."

"The sign in the lobby says the door to the pool is by the front desk," you reply, looking over your shoulder at him. The hallway is dimly lit, and the shadows on his face make his jaw look even sharper.

"Well that door also leads to the pool," he says, gesturing to the end of the hall. You just stare at him a moment, not sure why you feel the instinct to argue. "You don't believe me?" he asks, chuckling and looking you dead in the eye, before obviously snaking his gaze down the entirety of your body. Now that he's standing you see the fitted black pants and black dress shoes he's wearing, making his outfit look even more professional. His thighs look strong, and his stance is one of confidence, his entire demeanor cool and collected. You want to come up with a witty retort but can't think of anything, so you just start walking the way he's said to, again passing him by without slowing down to meet him. You open the doors gently but don't stop to hold them for him, brattiness taking ahold of you. Maybe it's the fancy hotel, or the wine, but you feel like a princess who deserves whatever she wants. And right now that's to piss Hongjoong off a bit, and see the pool.

"I thought nice girls hold doors open for the elderly," he says once he's exited too, sidling up to you. You stand by the long edge of the pool, taking in the lights below the surface that dance through the water. You turn to him and roll your eyes, taking the water glass he offers you immediately. "So, what do you do?" he asks.

"I'm still in school, I'm in my senior year," you say, turning back to the water. "And I work part time as an administrative assistant in the Dean's office, to help cover some of my tuition."

"College senior," he says, like he's mulling it over. "So that makes you how old?"

"Guess," you say, turning to him again, this time with your whole body.

"22," he replies. His voice low, like he's hesitant to say it.

"Close, 23," you say, not lowering your voice to meet his.

"And how old do you think I am?" he asks you, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Mmm, like, 38?" you joke, squinting your eyes as you look intently at his face. The feeling of wanting to piss him off still hadn't left you.

"How astute," he replies, nodding. "People usually think I'm younger."

"You're actually 38?" you ask, bewildered.

"Actually, 40," Hongjoong replies, making your eyebrows shoot up.

"You're lying," you say, rolling your eyes and shaking your head at him.

"Wow, second time tonight you've thought that. I don't know what I've done to make you think so poorly of me," he replies, that mischievous look again painting his face.

"Oh, shut up," you say, rolling your eyes harder this time, wanting to reach out and playfully punch him. Or maybe not so playfully. He's looking more and more perfect by the second, and his attitude, the way he's just so confident and calm, is making you hot and bothered. You know it maybe it's wrong, but now that you know his real age you find this whole scenario even hotter. If you were honest with yourself you'd always dreamed of fucking an older man, but the few you'd gone on dates with or had the chance to talk to had always been so immature, insecure, and underwhelming. Just like all the other guys you'd dated. It was a massive disappointment to learn that age didn't often give people that self-assured demeanor that you so desired. But clearly it did sometimes; the proof was standing in front of you.

"That wasn't very nice," Hongjoong replies, fixing you with a look of disapproval that makes your thighs clench involuntarily, as the two of you stare each other down merely feet apart. You hold his gaze as long as you can before you look down at your feet, his stoic demeanor feeling like a brick wall you can't break through.

"You're very pretty, y/n," he says, stepping forward to lift your face up to his.

"Really?" you ask him, eyes wide. Playing it just the way he likes.

"I know you know how pretty you are, you've been giving me those eyes all night," he says, looking like he disapproves. "You're a bit of brat, too, aren't you?" he asks, his hand moving to the side of your cheek.

"No comment," you giggle, and he grabs your hand, bringing it to his upper arm. You grab onto his bicep as he moves his hand to your waist pulling you two closer.

"Dance with me," he says, pulling you slightly into his chest.

"There isn't any music playing," you say, laughing. And it's the way that he doesn't just automatically laugh at your little comments that really gets you going.

"If I didn't know better, I'd think you didn't like me very much," he says seriously, pulling you in and starting to rock you back and forth. You dance together for a few minutes, no words being exchanged as your bodies get used to the proximity, as your mind begins to swim again, even more so now that his hands are on you. You want him to kiss you, do anything, now, but he keeps his hands where they are, still leading you around in slow circles. Fuck it, you think. You lift your hands to his face and pull him in, your lips meeting in a perfect kiss, his hand on your waist moving up your back as he holds you to him, leaning you back as he deepens it. You hold steadily onto his bicep for balance, your breathing fast as you stick your tongue in his mouth, not hiding your desperation. You don't care to, not when you've spent two months without this feeling, tortured over the idea that no one at your school would ever consider you an option after your last relationship ended the way it did.

And just when it seems like you're the only desperate one, Hongjoong moves his hands down, running them up your thighs and under your dress to find your panties. He finds none, much to his surprise, which makes his dick harden even further. He gropes your ass, deepening the kiss more, making you arch your back in neediness. And then he snakes his hand around, slowly moving to your core, before suddenly running a finger over your slit, making you gasp. You've forgotten where you are, totally engrossed in the feelings he's giving you. You buck your hips against his hand, moaning pathetically into his mouth, your legs feeling like they might give out on you. He starts circling your entrance, finally pushing one finger in maybe an inch, when you finally remember where you are.

"Wait, fuck, not out here," you say, pulling back from him. He pulls his hand away immediately, his fingers glistening in the lights of the night.

"You don't want everyone to see?" he asks, a smirk on his face.

"Not when the people paying for me to be here could see," you say. Your lips look swollen and wet from the kiss, and it makes him want to grab you again.

"You're the one who kissed me," he says, his voice low. And you know there's more he's implying, that you weren't just the one who kissed him but that you had rocked against his hand, had wanted his touch. That you'd kissed him desperately, making him unable to stop himself. The implication is inappropriate, the accusation he's laid on you not fair in the slightest. He has no way of knowing what you were trying to make him do, or what you wanted to happen. You hadn't said a word. And yet, he's totally right, making it hard for you to respond.

"That's-," you sigh, your pussy still throbbing from your proximity.

"My room is on the 7th floor," he says.

"Okay," you reply. It's all you can say. You stand completely still, stuck to the spot, waiting for him to move. Instead he puts his wet fingers in his mouth, sucking off your slick in one smooth motion, humming in satisfaction. Your mouth gapes at his lewdness, struck now by just how visible you both obviously are.

"Let's go," he says, motioning his head towards the door.

Your legs move automatically, your mind playing over and over the visual of him licking his fingers, the look of utter bliss on his face. As you walk the hallway he comes behind you, putting a hand on the small of your back, making your body melt into him slightly. It feels good but you gently remove his hand, not wanting anyone to see. You pray that neither Bea nor any of her family are in the lobby when you enter, and thankfully, your prayers are answered. Nor does anyone join you two on the elevator, which makes you willing to stand closer to Hongjoong than you would any other stranger. But still, you don't touch him. As you both exit you walk behind him, almost enough space between you that you could believably look like two total strangers, walking to separate rooms. Until he unlocks his door, holding it open as you slip inside, like you're really not supposed to be in here.

As soon as he closes the door he's pulled you to him, his back slamming into the wall as you nearly crash together, the air between you thick with lust.

"I'm almost twice as old as you, y/n," he whispers in your ear, feeling your pussy clench against his thigh that you're straddling, your mouth on his neck. "You like that," he states, not even asking you anymore. "You like that I'm way too old for you. Too old to be touching you like this."

It's wrong, so wrong and you know it, but the further he pushes it the more you're surrendering to what's happening, to what your body truly craves.

"You've never been fucked right by those stupid boys at your college, have you? You need me to fuck you right, to show you how good you can feel. That's why you were bratty with me, you wanted me to be riled up. Want me to fuck you hard, like I'm mad. Like I'm punishing you," he growls, his breathing heavy as you bite down on his neck, sending sparks of pain and pleasure through his head. "Fuck, you really want me mad, don't you?" he asks and you whine in response, your whole body tingly with anticipation.

"Get on your knees," he says, pulling you back from him, your hair already a mess from his hands, the straps of your dress falling down your shoulders and nearly making your tits spill out. "Open your mouth," he commands, and you follow immediately, your wide eyes looking up at him in desire, his thumb running over your bottom lip. "I like when you do what I say," he says, pinching your cheek and making you blush, the praise making your insides turn to jelly. He unzips his pants smoothly, undoing the button and swiftly pulling out his hard cock, the tip a slight shade of red and already leaking slightly.

"Look what you did to me," he says, palming himself, your tongue nearly falling out of your mouth as you salivate over his beautiful cock. "I thought for a moment I'd have to come up here and deal with this all on my own, after you eye-fucked me all dinner," he continues, slowly stroking his length, moving closer to your open and waiting lips. "I should have known you weren't wearing any panties from the way you were acting," he says, gently running his tip along your outstretched tongue, spreading your spit around your face with it and making a mess of you. "No bra, no panties. You wanted to be fucked tonight." Slowly he enters your mouth, gently holding your head as he pushes further in, gently tapping the back of your throat and making you gag. You moan, your pussy clenching around nothing, wanting him to fill all of your holes at once. "That feels good, doesn't it. Gagging on my cock," he smirks, your eyes fluttering closed as he pushes in again, this time a little harder. "Eyes on me baby, don't look away," he says, slowly beginning to fuck your throat, gently enough not to choke you but deep enough to make you repeatedly gag, your spit covering his cock and running down your chin, your face a complete mess. "Fuck, your mouth feels good," he groans, his face scrunching up in pleasure for a moment, before he looks down to meet your eyes again, which are now glued to him, glued to every change in his expression, every flick of his tongue across his bottom lip. "I'm gonna go harder baby, I know you can take it," he warns you before picking up his pace, his cock nearly bottoming out in your mouth as he holds your head in place, repeatedly fucking into your throat. You're automatically swallowing around him, your body's reflexive actions taking over. "Fuck, so good," Hongjoong sighs, your head feeling light from the lack of oxygen and your body swimming in pleasure. You could let him use your throat all night if he wanted to, especially if he keeps talking to you like that. Like you're dumb and you don't even know what you want. Like he has to tell you or you'll never figure it out.

Finally you choke hard, your body instinctively pulling you back, and he pulls out of your mouth letting you catch you breath, stroking a hand through your hair. You run a hand across your mouth, trying in vain to clean yourself up a bit, wiping the saliva on your dress and staring up at him open mouthed, your entire body covered in a sheen of sweat.

"Hey, don't ruin this," he says pulling at your dress, moving behind you to help take it off. He slowly undoes the zipper, gently pulling the straps down and off your arms before helping you stand to step out of it. Completely bare, you stand in front of him, his hand coming up to spank you, grabbing your ass hungrily in his hand. You yelp at the impact, like you weren't expecting it. Like you hadn't been sticking your ass out ever so slightly, arching your back to add to the affect. "Don't write checks you can't cash, doll," he says, making you giggle and turn your head to face him, a look of utter delight on your face. "It really makes you happy when I scold you, doesn't it," he says, staring you down.

"Why are you so clothed?" you ask, finding your words.

"You want to see me naked?" he teases.

"Just seems like you're hiding something. Maybe under all that nice clothing you're really not that built," you laugh, knowing it would strike a nerve. It wasn't hard to tell that he cared about his figure.

"Go sit on your hands on the bed," he retorts, his eyes narrowing, as he starts taking off his watch, undoing the clasp on his chain. He sets both down on the table gently, pulling his shirt over his head next, revealing that most of his abdomen is also covered in tattoos, his broad shoulders and broad chest. Slowly he sits on the side of the bed to untie his shoes, periodically looking up at you to make sure you haven't moved, moving almost comically slow. You wriggle in anticipation, watching him slowly reveal himself, his muscular thighs finally on display to you as he pulls down his pants and boxers, his cock hard and a deeper shade of red now, still glistening from your spit.

"Lay on your stomach," he says, moving over you when you oblige, raking the hair out of your face so he can see you. "This is what you get for sticking your ass out," he says, swiftly moving down to lick over your hole, making you gasp at the coldness of his tongue. Immediately the feeling runs to your clit, your entire crotch alive with pleasure, your back arching instinctively to meet his movements. He spreads your cheeks to get better access, moving his tongue in quick circles around your tight entrance, your body slowly relaxing from the pleasure he's providing.

And suddenly he's off of you, reaching into his bedside drawer and pulling out a bottle, swiftly lubing the fingers of his right hand and moving them to your waiting hole, gently pushing one in. You groan, the tight muscles stretching already, your body arching even further to give him the perfect angle as he gently starts pumping in and out of you.

"You like getting your ass eaten, I knew you would. So dirty," he says, making you whine in agreement, your brows scrunched together in pleasure. Soon he adds another finger, the stretch again making you groan, your body instinctively tightening up at the intrusion. "I know you can take it," he says, not even attempting to comfort you. "Don't brats like getting their asses fucked?" he asks, his words making your clit ache, your body finally releasing again as he works you open with two fingers, taking the opportunity to quickly add another. "I knew it," he says, satisfied with how quickly he's stretched you open, how pliant your body is in his hands, how he's getting exactly what he wants from you. Still fucking you with his fingers, he opens the lube bottle again with his other hand, generously dousing his achingly hard cock. Gently he pulls his fingers out of you, frozen for a moment staring at the way your hole has opened up, nearly drooling from the visual.

"Spread you legs," he says, pushing your knees apart himself, pulling you ass up towards him, just where he wants you. Lining himself up, he slowly pushes in, the stretch even more severe this time, making you whine in pain, your breaths short and stifled with your head now shoved into his pillows. "What, you can't take it? Is it too big?" he asks, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "My little brat can't take my cock in her ass?"

Tears start forming in your eyes from how turned on you are, the pain a secondary feeling as it all starts to feel just right, as it starts morphing into only pleasure as your muscles finally relent. You feel like you're being split open, like you're opened up more than ever before, like he's gutting you from the inside. Finally he bottoms out, reaching into you further than you thought you could feel, your clit throbbing painfully with need.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he groans from above you, brushing a hand along your cheek in an almost sweet gesture, seeing the single tear stain on your cheek. He waits a moment, waiting to feel if your body is ready, and suddenly your hips are moving into his like your body is begging him to move. He slowly pulls out, almost all the way, then thrusts back in, making you gasp at the intense pleasure, your breath nearly getting caught in your throat. Grabbing your hips he starts forcefully thrusting, chasing his own pleasure as he's sucked into your ass, the tight muscles threatening to make him come in an instant. Desperate for some relief you move your hand to your clit, desperately trying to circle it as he rocks you hard with the force of his thrusts. His eyes are glued to your ass, glued to the way his cock looks buried inside you, and your face, the way your mouth hangs permanently open as you moan in earnest, clearly not controlling a single sound that is coming out. The raw sounds make him fuck into you even harder, the way you sound so pathetically fucked out, like you can't believe this feels so good. Eventually his eyes roam down again and spot your hand, swatting it away in an instant, his anger boiling up again.

"Is my cock not enough?" he scolds, his voice gravelly from breathing so raggedly, the air in the room stiflingly hot. In this position it's hard, but quickly he finds a good angle and lands a sharp smack on your clit, the pain lancing through your core like lightning, and suddenly your whole body is shaking, your nerves completely on fire. "Even with my cock buried in your ass you want to piss me off, don't you?" His voice is raised, nearly to the point of losing control, but still very calculated. He lands another sharp slap on your clit, this time not as hard, but in an instant your orgasm washes over you, your whole body shaking hard as you squeeze down around his cock making it hard for him to keep moving.

"Fuck, baby, shit," Hongjoong curses, his climax hitting him by surprise, his cock milked by your tight walls squeezing down on him, your body taught with just how hard you came. His orgasm crashes over him fast and hard, his body going limp just after yours does, as you both collapse in a pile on the bed, his cum coating the walls of your ass in silky wetness. Your legs are still shaking, tucked up underneath you, his cock still buried deep inside. The position is awkward but you don't even feel it, the pleasure still rippling through you as you breath hard into the soft pillow. Hongjoong crashes onto your back, his arms instinctively wrapping around you, his chest and stomach rapidly rising and falling from his heavy breathing. His skin feels sticky and hot against yours, his hot breath fanning over your cheek as he plants a kiss there, intently watching your face as you come down.

"I'm gonna pull out now, okay?" he asks, eliciting a hum of agreement from you. Slowly he pulls backwards, his cum spilling out of you the moment he's pulled out entirely, spilling down your ass cheek onto the bedsheets. Hongjoong makes his way to the bathroom, quickly cleaning himself up before grabbing a washcloth for you, dousing it in luke warm water. Coming back to the bed he gently moves you onto your back, to the side of the pool of cum. He gently wipes you down, making you moan when he brushes over your clit, making himself chuckle.

Glancing over at the clock beside his bed you see it's nearly 11pm, your mind spinning. Quickly you move to the ground to rummage through your purse, glancing at your phone to see a text from Beatrice reading 'I'm back now, don't stay out too late miss.'

Be back soon, you write back.

"I should be going," you say, trying to stand up, your wobbly legs making it difficult. Hongjoong is at your side in a moment, stabilizing you, helping you to sit down on the bed while he grabs your dress off the floor. You hastily pull it over your head, running your fingers through your hair and feeling the knots that have formed. Quickly you zip the back of your dress, shove your phone in your purse and stand to slip on your sandals, not wanting to keep her waiting. The sudden quietness of Hongjoong also has you feeling slightly on edge, and really your head is just spinning, from every unexpected thing that happened.

"I'm not still mad, you know," he says gently, grabbing your hand as you move to breeze past him.

"Yeah?" you ask, looking at him with confusion.

"You don't need to still be acting like a kid who is in trouble," he says, kissing your hand. "That was just, that. You can talk to me like anyone else, now."

You eye him, swallowing thickly. What does one even say, now? Could he tell how inexperienced you were with hookups?

"I'm not sure what's going on in that pretty head of yours. I hope it's happy thoughts."

You nod, a smirk playing on your lips. You're speechless, unable to think a complete thought. It all just plays in your head, his tongue on your ass, his fingers stretching you out, his cock pounding into you so hard. And the smack on your clit, the way it made you come so fast, the ghost of the feeling still present in your core.

"Not those thoughts. You're gonna jump me again," he laughs, and finally you smack him, punching his arm soon afterwards. Pushing past him you walk fast, opening his door and spinning around, your eyes piercing as you meet his.

"What, you can't take my teasing?" he asks, but suddenly his door swings shut, your face gone in a flash.

As you saunter down the hall to the elevator you feel fucking amazing, swinging your purse over your shoulder and flipping your hair to the side, your sleepy eyes boring holes into the metal doors.

Well, she did tell you to have some fun. You just hoped Beatrice wouldn't be too mad you fucked her uncle.