#but work tonight is going to be. fun. and i have to go over to my irl bestie’s tomorrow and spend the night (and go to work) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sonarspace · 2 days ago

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⋆✴︎˚｡⋆STUDY BREAK (FT. GOJO)

꒰ synopsis. being in the same class as gojo satoru was bad enough; having him as the professor’s insufferably smug assistant made it worse. content. college au. nsfw. (teasing. slight praise kınk. fıngering. oräl. p in v. multiple ōrgasms.) wc. 5.3k. an. to clear up any confusion 😭.. satoru’s a senior student + the professor’s assistant in the course you’re both taking. (fic is kinda all over the place so idk if this works but let’s pretend like it does).

there’s something about gojo satoru that drives you insane. not in the fun, heart-fluttering way that comes with a secret crush or the thrill of banter. no—this is the kind of insane where you want to hurl something, preferably at his stupidly smug face.

“class,” he drawls, leaning lazily against the desk at the front of the room, his shirt slightly rumpled like he doesn’t give a damn—and he doesn’t. “these papers? a mixed bag. some of you really impressed me. others… well.” his lips curve into a smirk. “let’s just say the recycling bin was hungry.”

you groan inwardly, already sensing where this is going. he’s done this before, holding your work hostage like it’s part of his routine entertainment.

“and here,” he continues, brandishing a paper like a prop. your paper. “is a prime example of someone… almost getting there. strong ideas, decent execution, but the conclusion? oof. fell harder than my GPA sophomore year.”

a few students laugh. your jaw tightens, the heat in your chest bubbling up into something sharp and biting. he doesn’t have to name you; everyone knows exactly whose paper he’s waving around.

“anyway,” he finishes with a shrug, tossing the paper onto the desk like it’s disposable. “there’s potential. keep at it.”

you don’t even wait for class to end before your resolve solidifies: you’re going to kill him. maybe not literally, but metaphorically? absolutely.

you don’t plan on storming to his dorm room. it just… happens. one moment, you’re replaying his smug grin and the way his eyes gleamed when he mocked your paper, and the next, you’re standing outside his door, your fist raised to knock.

he answers quickly, and the sight of him makes you falter. his hair is damp, sticking out in soft tufts like he just got out of the shower, and his plain white t-shirt clings to him in a way that’s almost—no. you shake the thought away.

“well, this is unexpected,” he says, leaning against the doorframe with a grin that’s all teeth. “if you wanted private tutoring, you could’ve just asked.”

“don’t flatter yourself,” you snap, brushing past him into the room without waiting for an invitation.

he whistles low under his breath. “feisty tonight. to what do I owe the pleasure?”

you spin to face him, your hands clenched at your sides. “what is your problem with me?”

he blinks, his smirk faltering for a fraction of a second before returning full force. “problem? sweetheart, i don’t have a problem with you.”

“you humiliate me in class,” you say, your voice rising. “you make these comments, you single me out—what, are you that bored with your life?”

“humiliate?” he echoes, feigning a wounded look. “i think you mean ‘motivate.’ you’re one of the smartest people in that class. if i don’t push you, who will?”

“that’s bullshit,” you fire back, stepping closer. “you don’t ‘push’ anyone else.”

“because no one else is as fun,” he replies easily, his grin tilting into something sharper. “the way you react, the fire in your eyes—it’s addictive.”

your breath catches, the heat in your chest spreading to your cheeks. “you’re insufferable.”

“and yet, here you are,” he says, his voice dropping just enough to make the air between you feel heavier. “in my room. alone.”

“because you drive me crazy,” you snap, the words tumbling out before you can stop them.

his eyebrows lift slightly, as if he’s genuinely intrigued by your outburst. “good crazy or bad crazy?”

he takes a step closer, too close. the kind of close that makes your pulse stutter and your instincts scream at you to step back—but you don’t. instead, you stand your ground, your jaw clenched as he waits for your answer, his gaze steady and almost daring.

“what does it matter?” you mutter, your voice quieter now, the heat of your earlier anger ebbing into something more uncertain.

“it matters,” he says, his voice low as his eyes flicker to your lips. “because I need to know if I can do this.”

before you can ask what he means, he leans in, his lips brushing against yours like he’s giving you the chance to pull away. but you don’t. his hand finds your waist, tugging you closer as the kiss deepens, his mouth hot and insistent against yours.

it’s like a dam breaking. weeks—months—of tension and unspoken words all come crashing down in a rush of heat and urgency. his other hand slides into your hair, tilting your head to kiss you deeper, and the sound you make in response is embarrassing and needy, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

you should stop this. you should push him away, tell him he’s crossed a line. but the way his thumb brushes against your waist, the way he tilts his head just right, the way he kisses like he’s been waiting for this moment as long as you have—it’s addictive. you can’t stop. you don’t want to.

but then reality slams into you like a cold gust of wind. what are you doing? your chest tightens as the weight of it crashes down all at once, the heat between you dissolving into something sharper, more terrifying.

you pull back abruptly, your breathing uneven. “i can’t.”

he blinks, his expression softening from one of heat to confusion. “what?”

“this—this is a mistake,” you stammer, backing away. your hands feel clumsy as they fumble behind you for the door. “i shouldn’t have come here.”

“wait.” his hand reaches out, almost instinctively, but you’re already opening the door, your chest tight and your mind racing as you step out into the hall. you don’t look back, even as the warmth of his touch lingers on your skin.

────

you avoid him after that. in class, you sit as far from him as possible, claiming a seat in the back corner, close to the door. the usual tension he brought to the room—his teasing remarks, his piercing gaze when he caught you rolling your eyes—feels conspicuously absent. he doesn’t call on you, doesn’t glance your way, doesn’t even acknowledge you.

it’s been weeks since that night in his dorm, and as the semester nears its end, the distance feels heavier with every passing class. his silence, once the thing you desperately wanted, now presses on your chest like a weight. you wonder if he regrets it, if he’s just as caught in the what-ifs as you are—or if he’s already forgotten.

the final project looms, deadlines creeping closer, but the distraction isn’t enough to stop the quiet ache that’s settled in your chest. you remind yourself it’s for the best. boundaries were crossed, a line you know you shouldn’t have stepped over. it doesn’t matter how he made you feel, how his kisses left you breathless and yearning. none of it matters.

and yet, every time you leave class, you rush, head down, praying he won’t stop you. and every time he doesn’t, the ache grows.

when class ends today, the air feels heavier than usual. your peers chatter around you, their voices blending into background noise as you pack your things quickly, eyes fixed on the door. if you can just slip out unnoticed, avoid another day of walking the tightrope you’ve been balancing on since that night—

but then a hand wraps gently around your wrist, warm and familiar.

“you’re avoiding me,” he says, his voice low and steady. there’s no edge to it, no teasing grin or smug undertone. just quiet certainty, like he’s stating a fact.

you freeze, your heart thudding in your chest. it’s been so long since he’s said anything to you that the sound of his voice directed at you feels foreign.

“i’m late,” you mumble, tugging your wrist weakly in an attempt to free yourself. “let me go.”

“you don’t have any classes after this,” he says, his grip loosening but not letting go. his eyes meet yours, calm but resolute. “i checked your schedule.”

your jaw tightens, irritation flashing through you. “you shouldn’t have access to my schedule.”

“probably not,” he admits with a shrug, a hint of the old satoru creeping into his voice, “but i’m me.”

you open your mouth to snap at him, to tell him to back off, but he cuts you off first. “come have coffee with me.”

you blink, caught off guard by the casual offer. “what?”

“coffee,” he repeats, his tone light, as if this is perfectly normal. “you like coffee, don’t you?”

“that’s not the point,” you snap, yanking your wrist free from his grasp. “what is this, some weird apology?”

“it’s not weird,” he says, his smirk faltering slightly now, his expression open and strangely earnest. “it’s just coffee. with me.”

you stare at him, struggling to find the right words. “gojo,” you begin, your voice heavy, “you and i are not friends.”

his face falls, the shift so quick and unexpected that it makes your stomach twist. you see the way his shoulders tense, the way his gaze drops for just a moment, but you force yourself to look away. without giving him a chance to reply, you turn and push past him, your steps quick and unsteady as you leave the classroom.

the ache in your chest grows with every step, and even as you round the corner, out of sight, the image of his expression lingers. there’s no relief this time. only guilt.

────

you don’t know why you’re here. no, that’s a lie—you know exactly why you’re here. the memory of his expression, the slight drop of his shoulders at your retort, has been looping in your mind, making it impossible to focus on anything else.

your feet carry you down the familiar path to his dorm, the ache in your chest twisting tighter with every step. before you can talk yourself out of it, your fist is already knocking on the door.

it opens almost immediately, and the sight of him steals the breath from your lungs. his white hair is a mess, sticking up in chaotic directions, and his glasses are perched crookedly on his nose. there’s a faint crease on his cheek, like he’d been leaning against a book, and his shirt hangs loosely off one shoulder, rumpled from sleep or hours spent working. he looks… soft. disarming. almost painfully cute.

“coffee,” you say, holding up the cups like a white flag. “can i come in?”

his lips twitch, a hint of a smile breaking through the haze of surprise as he steps aside. “bribery, huh? didn’t think you had it in you.”

his dorm is as cluttered as you remember—papers and notebooks sprawled across his desk, a blinking laptop shoved precariously to one side. you set the coffee down on the edge of the desk, your gaze catching on the scrawled notes and dense blocks of text.

“grading?” you ask.

“research,” he replies, dropping onto the edge of his bed with a tired sigh. his hand rakes through his already-messy hair, making it stick up even more. “finals prep. you know, glamorous TA things.”

you hand him a cup, your fingers brushing against his as he takes it. the simple contact sends a jolt up your arm that you stubbornly ignore. “thought you could use it.”

he hums as he takes a sip, his lashes fluttering briefly before he lets out a quiet sound of approval. the noise is so low, so soft, it makes your stomach twist. you glance away quickly, your grip tightening on your own cup.

“about the other day,” you start, the words quiet and tentative.

he glances up, the coffee still in his hands. his expression is unreadable, but his fingers still against the cup, like he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. “you don’t have to explain,” he says, setting his cup down on the desk. “if you don’t want this—if i got it wrong—just say so.”

“it’s not that,” you blurt, the words tumbling out too fast, too raw. warmth floods your cheeks, creeping down to your chest. “i just… i don’t know what this is.”

he doesn’t respond immediately, doesn’t fall into his usual teasing deflection. instead, he stands, crossing the small space between you with deliberate steps. his gaze holds yours, steady and unguarded, and it makes your stomach flip in a way you can’t control.

“let me show you,” he says softly, his voice low, uncharacteristically serious.

he’s so close now, his hand brushing against yours, his touch light, almost hesitant. and then his lips are on yours, and everything else fades away.

this kiss is nothing like the first. there’s no uncertainty, no restraint. his hands find your waist, pulling you flush against him as his mouth moves against yours, hot and insistent. your grip on the coffee slips, the cup hitting the floor with a dull thud as your hands find his shoulders, clutching at the fabric of his shirt.

when his hands slide under your shirt, the roughness of his palms against your bare skin makes you shudder. he guides you backward, his body pressing into yours until the backs of your knees hit the mattress. you sink down, the weight of him grounding you as he follows, his lips trailing fire along your jaw and down your neck.

his hands are everywhere—tracing the curve of your waist, brushing the underside of your ribs, exploring like he’s memorizing every inch of you. when he pulls back to look at you, his lips are curved in a wicked, breath-stealing grin.

“you’re infuriating,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough as his eyes rake over you, drinking in every detail.

“you’re worse,” you manage, though your voice is barely more than a whisper.

his grin widens, and his laugh is warm against your skin as he dips his head, his teeth grazing the sensitive spot just below your ear. “you’re already so worked up. it’s cute.”

“shut up,” you snap, though the way your hips arch into his touch betrays you.

“make me,” he challenges, his lips brushing against yours before descending lower, kissing down your collarbone and tugging your shirt higher with every inch. his hands roam greedily, tugging the fabric over your head and tossing it somewhere behind him without a second thought.

his mouth is back on you immediately, nipping and kissing along the swell of your breasts as his hands work the clasp of your bra. when it comes free, his lips part in a satisfied hum, his hands kneading your soft skin like he’s savoring every second of this.

“so fucking perfect,” he mutters, his voice husky as he leans back slightly to take in the sight of you. his gaze is heavy, filled with something dark and hungry that makes your stomach twist in the best way.

“stop staring,” you grumble, though the heat in your cheeks betrays the sharpness of your words.

“can’t help it,” he says, his grin tilting into something softer, more genuine. “you’re gorgeous.”

before you can respond, his mouth is back on you, his tongue flicking over your nipple as his other hand trails down your stomach, fingers dipping just beneath the waistband of your pants. your breath hitches as he pauses, his gaze flicking up to meet yours.

“can i?” he asks, his voice quieter now, his expression serious.

you nod, and he wastes no time. his fingers hook under the fabric, tugging your pants and underwear down in one swift motion. the cool air against your bare skin makes you shiver, but the warmth of his hands is there immediately, coaxing you to relax under his touch.

“look at you,” he murmurs, his voice low and thick as his hands part your thighs, his gaze drinking in every inch of you. “so fucking pretty.”

your cheeks flush, and you try to turn your head away, but his hand cups your chin, gently coaxing you to meet his eyes. “don’t hide from me,” he says, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “not tonight.”

his other hand slides between your thighs, his touch featherlight at first, teasing. when his thumb brushes over your clit, a jolt of heat shoots through you, and your hips buck involuntarily.

“sensitive,” he murmurs, his lips curving into a wicked grin. “i barely touched you, and you’re already squirming.”

“shut up,” you snap, your voice shaky as your fingers clutch at the sheets beneath you. but the way your body reacts—arching into his touch, chasing the pressure—makes it clear that his teasing isn’t far from the truth.

“you don’t really want me to, do you?” his voice is low, almost a growl, and the sound of it sends a shiver down your spine. “i think you like when i talk to you like this. when i tell you how good you’re doing, how fucking beautiful you look right now.”

your chest heaves as his fingers dip lower, sliding through your slick folds with infuriating slowness. every movement feels deliberate, calculated, like he’s savoring every second. when his fingers finally slip inside you, the stretch makes your head fall back, a gasp tumbling from your lips.

“that’s it,” he murmurs, his thumb circling your clit as his fingers begin to move, slow and deliberate at first. “you feel so fucking good, baby. so perfect.”

your hands fly to his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin as he curls his fingers, hitting a spot that makes your vision blur. “oh my god—gojo—”

he tuts sharply, his fingers pausing inside you, his thumb stalling its maddening rhythm. your head snaps up, breathless and confused, to find him staring down at you with a dark look, his lips curving into a smirk that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“no,” he says firmly, his voice low and commanding as he tilts his head. “say satoru.”

“w-what?” you stammer, your heart racing as his fingers remain perfectly still, the tension building with every passing second.

“not ‘gojo,’” he says again, his free hand sliding up to cup your jaw, tilting your face toward his. his thumb brushes over your bottom lip, his grin sharpening. “say satoru.”

you hesitate, your breath hitching as your body trembles beneath him. he presses his fingers deeper, curling them just enough to make your toes curl, and your resolve shatters.

“satoru,” you gasp, your voice breaking on the syllables.

his smirk widens, something dark and triumphant flickering in his eyes. “good girl,” he murmurs, his thumb resuming its slow, torturous circles on your clit as his fingers pick up their rhythm again, harder this time, deeper.

your head falls back against the mattress, your body arching into his touch as the pleasure builds again, higher and hotter than before. his name tumbles from your lips like a mantra, breathless and needy as he drives you closer to the edge.

“that’s it,” he coaxes, his voice dripping with praise as his free hand slides down your body, his touch possessive. “just like that, baby. let go for me.”

the coil in your stomach tightens to the breaking point, and when he curls his fingers just right, pressing against the perfect spot, it snaps. your orgasm crashes over you, white-hot and overwhelming, and his name spills from your lips in a broken moan.

“satoru—fuck—”

“that’s my girl,” he murmurs, his voice rough with approval as he works you through the waves of pleasure, his movements slowing but never stopping until your body goes slack beneath him, trembling and spent.

he pulls his hand away slowly, his gaze fixed on you as he brings his fingers to his lips, licking them clean with a deliberate, satisfied hum. “even better than i imagined,” he says, his voice dripping with arrogance, his eyes gleaming as they roam over your flushed, trembling body.

you blink, your breath still uneven as his words settle over you. “wait—” you say, your voice catching slightly. “you’ve thought about this?”

his grin widens, slow and deliberate, and he leans down, bracing himself on his forearms so his face is just inches from yours. “oh, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing, “you really think i haven’t?”

your cheeks flush even hotter, your pulse racing as his words sink in. “you’re—” you stammer, at a rare loss for words. “you’re ridiculous.”

“ridiculous?” he repeats, feigning offense, though the wicked glint in his eyes never falters. “i’d say i’m a man of focus. you’ve been in my head for weeks, driving me insane with that sharp mouth and the way you look at me when you think i don’t notice.”

“i don’t—” you begin, but his lips curve into a knowing smirk, cutting you off.

“you do,” he insists, his tone softening just slightly. “and every time you glared at me, every time you rolled your eyes or bit back some little retort, all i could think about was how much i wanted to shut you up. like this.”

his lips capture yours again, and this kiss is slower, heavier, laced with an intensity that makes your toes curl. his hands roam, sliding over your bare skin with a reverence that feels almost out of place against his words.

when he finally pulls back, his gaze is still on you, his expression uncharacteristically serious. “and now that i’ve got you,” he says, his voice dipping into something darker, “i don’t think i’ll ever get enough.”

the weight of his confession leaves you breathless, and before you can respond, his lips are trailing down your body again, his hands parting your thighs as he settles between them.

“what are you—” you start, but his eyes flick up to meet yours, and the look in them steals the rest of your words.

“relax,” he murmurs, his lips curving into a soft, almost mischievous smile. “i’m not done tasting you yet.”

his hands slide to grip your thighs, pulling you apart with ease as his lips descend, brushing over your inner thighs, teasingly slow. his tongue flicks out, hot and wet against your skin, and when his mouth finally finds you again, you feel your body arch instinctively, your breath leaving in a sharp, unrestrained gasp.

he’s relentless. his tongue drags up your folds in a languid stroke before circling your clit with maddening precision. his mouth is hot, the slick, wet sounds mingling with your soft moans, and his breath—warm and uneven—fans against your skin with every movement.

his hair brushes against your thighs, soft and messy, and your fingers thread through it again, tugging sharply enough to make him groan against you. the vibration of it sends a jolt of pleasure straight through your core, and your hips buck against his mouth.

“satoru,” you gasp, but it’s barely coherent, your voice breaking as he latches onto your clit, sucking just enough to make your toes curl. “oh my—”

the cold press of something against your inner thigh pulls you out of the haze, just barely. it’s sharp, unfamiliar, and you glance down—his glasses. they’re still perched on his nose, slightly crooked, the metal frame fogging faintly from the heat of his breath. he’s so lost in the moment, so focused on the way his tongue works against you, that he hasn’t even noticed.

your hand drifts down, brushing against the cool frame, and you slip them off without a word. the absurdity of it—the way he’s been eating you out with his glasses still on—makes you want to laugh. the corners of your mouth twitch, and a soft sound bubbles up in your throat, but then his tongue presses flat against your folds, dragging up in one slow, deliberate motion, and the laugh dissolves into a sharp moan.

your head falls back against the pillow, your hand tangling back in his hair as you toss the glasses onto the bed with the other. the noise they make as they hit the mattress is faint, drowned out by the obscene wet sounds of his mouth, the low hums of satisfaction he lets out as he devours you.

“fuck,” you whimper, your thighs trembling as his tongue flicks against your clit again, faster now, more insistent. your body arches instinctively, chasing the pressure, and his hands tighten on your thighs, pulling you even closer to his mouth.

he growls against you, the sound low and rough, vibrating through you in a way that makes your toes curl. his tongue dips lower, teasing your entrance before sliding back up, and the sharp scrape of his teeth against your swollen clit has you seeing stars.

“so fucking sweet,” he mutters, his voice muffled against your slick skin. “can’t get enough of you, baby.”

you can’t respond, can’t think. the only thing you can focus on is the way his tongue works against you, precise and relentless, building the heat in your stomach until it’s unbearable. your fingers twist in his hair, pulling harder, and the groan he lets out in response sends you spiraling.

“satoru—” his name falls from your lips like a prayer, breathless and broken. he doesn’t stop, doesn’t let up, his mouth dragging you closer and closer to the edge until you can’t hold on any longer.

your orgasm hits you hard, ripping through you in waves that leave your entire body trembling. your hips jerk against his hold, your moans loud and unrestrained as you ride it out. his tongue slows, working you through every aftershock until you’re left panting, boneless against the bed.

when he finally pulls back, his chest is heaving, his lips and chin glistening with your slick. his hair is a mess, strands sticking up where your fingers had tugged, and his eyes—those impossibly bright blues—flick up to meet yours, gleaming with satisfaction.

“twice,” he says, his voice low and teasing as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

he sits back on his knees, his hands smoothing over your trembling thighs as he takes in the sight of you—flushed, panting, your chest rising and falling as you try to catch your breath. his grin is lazy, self-satisfied, like he knows exactly what he’s done to you.

“you’re staring,” you mutter weakly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“hard not to,” he replies, his tone low and full of amusement. his fingers trace lazy patterns on your skin, his touch soft, teasing. “you look so fucking good when you come.”

your cheeks burn, and you want to glare at him, to tell him to shut up, but the words catch in your throat as he reaches for the hem of his shirt. in one fluid motion, he pulls it over his head and tosses it to the side, the movement effortless and maddeningly confident.

your eyes follow the shift of his muscles, the way they ripple under his skin, lean and defined. a faint sheen of sweat glistens across his chest, catching the dim light, highlighting every sharp line and curve. your gaze drifts lower, down to the sharp ridges of his abdomen. the faint trail of white hair starting just below his navel draws your attention, leading your eyes further, until his hands move to the waistband of his boxers.

he doesn’t rush. he hooks his thumbs under the fabric, dragging it down slowly, deliberately, letting the anticipation coil tighter in your stomach. as the fabric falls away, your breath hitches.

he’s fully bare now, and your mouth goes dry.

his cock is… breathtaking. thick and flushed a deep pink at the tip, already leaking beads of precum that catch the light as they drip down the length. it’s long, the kind of length that makes your thighs press together instinctively, wondering how he’ll fit, but the heat pooling low in your stomach burns hotter, overriding any hesitation.

his hand wraps around it, and he strokes himself slowly, his thumb swiping over the head to collect the wetness there. the motion is deliberate, almost lazy, and the soft groan he lets out sends a shiver down your spine.

you’re staring—you know you are—and he notices, his lips curving into a wicked grin as his eyes flick up to meet yours.

“don’t worry, baby,” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing as he leans forward, the head of his cock brushing against your folds, slick and hot. “i’ll make it fit.”

his words send a shiver through you, his voice low and dripping with confidence. the weight of his cock against your folds, hot and heavy, is enough to make your hips twitch instinctively, chasing the friction. but he doesn’t push in right away—of course he doesn’t. instead, he drags the head up and down your slick, letting it catch on your clit with every pass, teasing you until you’re squirming beneath him.

“satoru,” you whimper, your nails digging into his shoulders. you’re not above begging at this point. “please.”

his grin widens, his head dipping to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “what’s the rush, baby? we’ve got all night.”

“satoru,” you repeat, more insistently this time, and he groans at the sound of his name on your lips, his cock twitching against you.

“fuck,” he mutters, his voice tight now, losing some of that smug edge. “you sound so pretty when you beg.”

he lines himself up, his hand still wrapped around the base as he presses the head against your entrance. the stretch is immediate, a sharp, overwhelming mix of pleasure and pressure as he pushes in slowly, inch by inch.

“holy shit,” he breathes, his voice rough as his head falls forward, his hair brushing against your cheek. “you’re so fucking tight.”

your fingers clutch at his shoulders, your breath catching as he sinks deeper, the fullness stealing every coherent thought from your mind. he pauses halfway, his free hand sliding up to cup your jaw, tilting your face toward his.

“you okay?” he asks, and there’s something softer in his voice now, his eyes scanning your face for any sign of discomfort.

you nod, your voice shaky as you answer. “yeah. just—keep going.”

his jaw tightens, and he exhales slowly, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before he starts to move again. every inch feels impossibly deep, your walls stretching around him, and when he finally bottoms out, you both pause, your breaths mingling as you try to adjust.

“fuck,” he groans again, his voice strained as his hips twitch against yours. “you feel so good. better than i ever—” he cuts himself off with a shaky laugh, shaking his head. “shit, you’re perfect.”

you can barely respond, the stretch and fullness leaving you trembling. but then he starts to move, pulling out almost entirely before sliding back in with a slow, deliberate roll of his hips. the drag of his cock against your walls is enough to have you moaning, your head falling back against the pillow.

“that’s it,” he murmurs, his voice rough and approving as he sets a steady rhythm. “good girl. taking me so well.”

your hands trail down his back, your nails scraping lightly against his skin, and the groan he lets out sends a fresh wave of heat through you. his movements quicken, the sound of skin against skin filling the room, and every thrust has him hitting that perfect spot deep inside you, making you cry out.

“satoru—” his name falls from your lips again, and he leans down, his teeth grazing your neck as he thrusts harder, deeper.

“you’re gonna make me lose my fucking mind,” he growls, his hands gripping your hips tighter, holding you in place as he drives into you. “you feel so good—so fucking perfect for me.”

the coil in your stomach tightens with every roll of his hips, the pressure building higher and higher until it’s unbearable. his thumb finds your clit, rubbing in tight circles that make your vision blur, and your moans grow louder, more desperate.

“come for me,” he demands, his voice rough and low in your ear. “let me feel you.”

the command sends you over the edge. your orgasm rips through you, your body arching into his as you cry out, his name spilling from your lips like a prayer. your walls clench around him, and the sensation makes him groan, his thrusts growing erratic as he chases his own release.

“fuck—” he gasps, burying himself as deep as he can go as he comes, the heat of him spilling into you, thick and warm. his head falls to your shoulder, his breath ragged against your skin as he rides out the last waves of pleasure.

the room is quiet except for the sound of your heavy breathing, the air thick and charged as he finally pulls back, his weight pressing into you as he collapses onto the bed beside you. his arm slides around your waist, pulling you against his chest as he presses a soft, lazy kiss to your temple.

“told you i’d make it fit,” he murmurs, his voice still rough, but there’s a hint of smugness there, his lips curving into a small grin.

you can’t help the laugh that escapes you, your body still trembling against his. “you’re such an asshole.”

“yeah,” he agrees, his tone light, teasing, as he brushes a strand of hair from your face. “but you like it.”

you roll your eyes, but there’s no heat to it, your lips curving into a faint smile as you bury your face against his chest. “shut up, satoru.”

“never,” he replies, and the warmth of his laughter vibrates through you, grounding you as your breaths slowly even out.

an. gojo with glasses... *hnnggghh*

DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORK ON OTHER PLATFORMS!

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mononijikayu · 2 days ago

Text

water — gojo satoru.

"Satoru, lover….oh." you gasped again, your hands fisting in his hair as he kissed his way down your neck, your body arching into him. "I want—" "I know, I know." he whispered against your skin, his voice low and husky. "Just hold on, babe. I'm gonna take you exactly where you need to go." And with that, he surged forward, capturing your lips in another fiery kiss, his hands moving to grip your thighs, holding you steady as the intensity between you built, hotter and hotter until you felt like you were about to burst.

GENRE: alternate universe - canon convergence;

WARNING/S: afab!, romance, smut, nsfw, rated 18 and above, explicit content, exhibitionism, kissing, making out, fingering (f! receiving), oral sex (f! receiving), rough sex, p to v sex, orgasm, humor, profanity, pet names (lover, babe, etc), characters speaking in sexual innuendo, mention of sexual euphemisms, depiction of explicit sexual content, sorcerer! gojo satoru, sorcere! reader;

WORD COUNT: 5.5k words.

NOTE: this song hasn't been out of my head since it came out and now tyla has new music out and i just know it will slap and i will dance to it. i wanted to make sure satoru's first since i haven't written for him in a while!!! this begins this playlist!!! i hope you enjoy side 2000!!! i love you all and see you in the next one <3

masterlist

kayu's playlist - side 2000;

if you want to, tip! <3

YOU JUST WANTED TO ENJOY THE PARTY. It’s been a while since you’d found yourself trying to destress from work and the busy push and pull of life. And with Satoru’s schedule being the chaotic mess it was, it was always so rare for the two of you to go out for way too long and have fun together, with schedules that contradict each other.

So, when your next door neighbors finally debuted their pool at their house, they decided to throw a barbecue party for the neighborhood. When you told Satoru about it, he told you he was willing to take a day off. And knowing that, you knew you were taking the opportunity, even just for tonight, to loosen up. Isn’t that what life’s all about?

The evening sun was setting, casting a warm, golden glow over the pool, the perfect backdrop for a party that was only just beginning to heat up. Laughter and music filled the air, but your eyes were locked on one person.

There he was, that bright eyed man Gojo Satoru, standing at the edge of the pool with his signature grin, a drink in hand. His bright snowy white hair was damp from a quick dip, droplets of water clinging to his skin as he watched you approach.

You could feel the heat of his gaze as you slid into the water, your body moving effortlessly through the cool pool. The tension between you was thick, the playful banter from earlier simmering into something much more intense as the night wore on.

"Looking a little wild tonight, babe." Satoru teased, his voice dripping with amusement as you swam up to him. He set his drink aside, his blue eyes glinting with a challenge. "Think you can keep up?"

Normally, you’d throw a sarcastic retort his way, but tonight was different. Tonight, something in you wanted more. The playful banter wasn’t enough. You wanted to feel his hands on your skin, to see if he could really make good on all those teasing words.

"You think you can handle me?" you shot back, your voice low and sultry as you moved closer, the water swirling around you both. The music pulsed in the background, the beat matching the thrum of anticipation coursing through your veins.

Satoru’s sly little grin widened, his fingers trailing lazily along the edge of the pool. "I don’t know, babe." he drawled, his voice laced with mock uncertainty. "But I’m more than willing to find out."

Without another word, you pushed forward, closing the distance between you, pressing your body against his. The cool water contrasted with the heat of his skin, and the contact sent a shiver of desire through you.

"Normally, lover boy…." you whispered, lips brushing against his reddening ear. "I can keep my cool. But tonight, I think…I think we need some heat, don’t you think?" You trailed off, letting the implication hang in the air between you.

Satoru's hands found your waist, his grip firm and possessive as he pulled you closer, his breath hot against your neck. His blue orbs clashing against your own, mischief echoing in their very color.

"Good that you agree with me." he murmured, his lips brushing the sensitive skin of your throat. "Because I like it when you’re a little wild."

Your heart pounded in your chest as his hands roamed over your body, the slickness of the water making every touch feel even more intimate. His fingers dug into your hips as he lifted you slightly, pressing you against the pool's edge, your legs wrapping instinctively around his waist.

The intensity of his gaze pinned you in place, blue eyes darkened with desire. "Can you handle this, babe?" Satoru’s vibrating voice was a low, dangerous rumble, full of heat and promise. “Can you really?”

Your breath hitched, the tension between you unbearable. "Why don't you show me how hard you can go, lover boy?" you challenged, your voice breathless, your body already burning with anticipation. “I’m sure….I can try.”

With a wicked grin, Satoru leaned in passionately. It was almost immediate, the way he was capturing your lips in a searing kiss. His ferious tongue teased yours, slow and deliberate.

Your lover always makes it a point to have a shot in tasting every inch of you as his hands explored your body under the water. You moaned into his mouth, your fingers tangling in his damp hair as the kiss deepened, the world around you fading away.

Every brush of his lips, every caress of his hands set your body on fire, making you sweat despite the coolness of the water. You could feel him, hard and ready against you, and the need for more, so much more. Everything about him was overwhelming. And you loved it, you loved it too much.

"Satoru, oh—" you gasped as he kissed a trail down your neck, your body arching into him, desperate for every ounce of contact. "You're making me lose my breath like always."

"Good." he murmured against your skin, his hands sliding lower, gripping you tighter. "Because like always, I’m not done with you yet."

His mouth found yours again, the kiss deeper, hungrier this time, as if he couldn’t get enough of you. The heat between you both was scorching, your bodies pressed together in the water, moving in perfect rhythm. His lips traveled down your throat, his teeth grazing your collarbone, leaving you gasping, breathless.

"Then make me sweat, lover boy." you whispered against his ear, your fingers tracing the sharp line of his jaw as his hands moved under the water, teasing your thighs, pulling you closer. “Make me feel good, like the water.”

Satoru groaned, a sound that sent a thrill through you. "I plan to, babe." he promised, his voice thick with desire as his hands gripped your waist.

He grins as he is lifting you slightly, pressing you harder against the pool's edge. "And when I'm done, you're gonna be begging me for more."

His words sent a shockwave of heat straight through you, and you could feel yourself trembling with need. The water around you felt like it was boiling, every touch from Gojo Satoru was igniting sparks of pleasure that raced through your body. He was taking over you, every bit of you — like he always does.

"Satoru, lover….oh." you gasped again, your hands fisting in his hair as he kissed his way down your neck, your body arching into him. "I want—"

"I know, I know." he whispered against your skin, his voice low and husky. "Just hold on, babe. I'm gonna take you exactly where you need to go."

And with that, he surged forward, capturing your lips in another fiery kiss, his hands moving to grip your thighs, holding you steady as the intensity between you built, hotter and hotter until you felt like you were about to burst.

Everything was just getting started.

And Gojo Satoru was still pretty hungry.

He liked having his fill of you every single time.

Your heart raced as Satoru’s grip tightened, his fingers digging into your skin just enough to keep you anchored while the rest of your body felt like it was spiraling out of control. Every kiss, every brush of his lips against your skin sent jolts of electricity through you, making you lose track of time, place, and everything else that wasn’t him.

The party noises faded into the background. The splashing of the pool, the music, the chatter of distant voices, none of it mattered anymore. It was just you and Satoru, bodies pressed together, the water swirling lazily around you as if time itself had slowed to match the intensity of the moment.

"Still think you can keep up, babe?" he whispered against your lips, his breath hot and teasing. His eyes sparkled with that familiar mischief, but beneath it, there was a hunger. There was this endless raw, desperate need that mirrored your own. “I wanna go as fast as I can with you.”

"Don’t worry about me, lover boy." you shot back, breathless but determined, your hands sliding down his slick chest, feeling the hard muscle beneath. "I can handle you."

Gojo Satoru’s grin widened at the challenge, his lips pressing hard against yours in a bruising kiss. All you could do was let him win, as you groaned against the pleasure of his searing touch. Even the heat of the passion was burning on water.

His hands roamed over your body, exploring every curve, every dip, as if he wanted to memorize the feel of you beneath his fingertips. The water between you only heightened the sensation, the cool liquid a stark contrast to the heat that burned where his skin met yours.

"I’ll make you sweat more, babe. I promised you." he murmured, his voice low and rough, as if he could barely contain himself.

His lips trailed down your neck again, his breath hot against your skin as he kissed and nipped his way down to your collarbone, making you gasp with each new touch. You could feel your body responding to him, heat pooling low in your stomach, your breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps.

"Satoru, lover boy. Oh, you’re…." you moaned, his name slipping from your lips before you could stop it, the intensity of the moment overwhelming.

His hands slid down to your hips, gripping you tighter as he pressed you back against the edge of the pool. His lips were relentless, moving across your skin like fire, making you tremble beneath him. You were losing control, your body melting under his touch, every nerve lit up in anticipation.

"That’s right," he whispered, his voice dark and full of promise. "Let go for me."

You didn’t need any more convincing. Your hands tangled in his wet hair as you pulled him closer, your lips crashing against his in a feverish kiss, your body moving against his as if you couldn’t get enough. His hands slipped lower, teasing you, making you gasp as the pleasure built higher and higher.

"Satoru. You’re so…." you breathed, your voice trembling with need. "I can’t—"

"Yes, you can." he whispered, his lips brushing your ear, sending shivers down your spine. "You can take it. I’ll take you there."

The heat between you was unbearable now, the tension building with every kiss, every touch, every whispered word. You could feel yourself teetering on the edge, your body straining for release, every nerve in your body on fire.

"Come on, baby," Satoru murmured, his hands gripping your thighs as he pulled you closer, his lips hot against your skin. "Just let go for me."

And you did. The pleasure hit you all at once, like a wave crashing over you, stealing your breath and making you cry out as your body shook with the intensity of it. You clung to Satoru, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he held you steady, riding out the aftershocks of your release with slow, deliberate kisses that left you trembling.

"That’s my pretty babe, hm?” he whispered, his voice soft now, his lips brushing yours in a tender kiss. "You did so good."

You could barely catch your breath, your body still buzzing with the afterglow as you leaned back against the edge of the pool, your legs still wrapped around him. You looked up at him, your heart pounding in your chest, and saw that familiar, lazy grin on his face—the one that said he wasn’t quite finished with you yet.

"Think you’ve still got some energy left?" he teased, his hands moving up your sides, his thumbs brushing your skin in a way that sent shivers down your spine.

You raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at your lips. "You think I can’t keep up? Haven’t I shown you something good, lover boy?"

His grin widened, and he leaned in close, his lips hovering just above yours. "Oh, I know you can, babe." he murmured, his breath hot against your lips. "But I’m not done making you sweat just yet, you know?”

You both disappeared, finally slipping away from the crowd and into the shadows, your lips still locked in a feverish kiss. The night air was thick with the scent of chlorine and heat, but all you could focus on was Satoru. Only him. His hands, his mouth, his body pressed against yours with an intensity that left you breathless.

The two of you managed to find yourselves in a secluded corner, hidden from prying eyes. His lips trailed down once more your neck, and before you knew it, you were pressed up against the cool tile wall, your skin burning with need as his mouth worked wonders against your throat.

“You’re wild tonight, babe.” Satoru murmured, his voice thick with desire, fingers grazing your hips, teasing. His usual cocky grin spread across his face as he kissed you again, this time slower, deeper, as if savoring every second.

“And you love it, don’t you?” you shot back, breathless as you tangled your hands in his hair. The thrill of the night, of being wrapped in his arms, made your pulse race, your body crave more.

Without a word, Satoru dropped to his knees before you, and your breath hitched. You knew what he was doing. His hands parted your legs as his gaze burned into yours, the heat of his anticipation palpable in the air.

The smirk on his face sent a shiver through you, but that shiver turned into pure heat when his lips met your inner thigh, trailing kisses up, up, until you could feel his hot breath against your core.

“Satoru…” you whispered, your voice barely audible, your body aching for his touch.

He didn’t hesitate. His tongue found you, and your head fell back against the wall, a soft moan escaping your lips as he devoured you like a man starved. You bit your lip as a plethora of pleasured moans released from your lips.

There was no restraint, no gentleness—just hunger. His mouth was messy, his tongue moving in ways that had your legs trembling, and the slick from your arousal coated his chin as he worked you with an unrelenting passion.

The sounds he made, deep, guttural groans of satisfaction, it only heightened the pleasure, and the way his hands gripped your thighs, holding you steady. Everything about it made you feel like you were about to come undone at any moment.

If anything, he was too hungry for your cunny. And he wouldn’t stop even if you wanted him too. He was hungry for you. He always was. He lapped at you, his tongue swirling and flicking with precision, like he was trying to draw out every moan, every gasp from your lips.

“Satoru… oh my god….” you gasped, your fingers threading through his white hair rougher as your body arched towards him, desperate for more.

He pulled back for just a moment, his chin glistening with your slick, eyes dark with lust as he grinned up at you. He’s having fun with this, he always has. If anything about Satoru, he doesn’t like playing fair when it comes to eating.

“You taste so damn good, babe.” he growled, his voice low, feral, before diving back in. “How come you’ve become sweeter?”

“You…You tasted me last night, oh—”

“What can I say, babe? You always just get sweeter for me. And I love it.”

You groaned against his words. But he just laughed once again and dived in. If one had thought that he couldn’t go any deeper, any rougher, any hungrier, any messier — they would be wrong. He can go even more than that. You knew your lover way too well.

The way his mouth moved against you was nothing short of sinful. Sloppy, messy, and so damn good. It was as if he couldn’t get enough, like he was trying to consume every part of you. Your body was shaking, legs threatening to give out as the pleasure built inside you, and all you could do was grip his hair tighter, riding his tongue as he pulled you closer and closer to the edge.

His fingers slid inside you while his mouth never left its place, curling perfectly as he stretched you out. The combination of his fingers and his mouth working together had you spiraling, your moans echoing through the air, louder now, unable to hold back as your body begged for release.

“Fuck, Satoru, don’t stop. Please, don’t.” you moaned, barely coherent, the intensity too much, but you didn’t want it to end.

He didn’t slow down, he had no reason to. Not when you’re egging him on. Not when he wants you too badly. Not when it all just felt so good. You could feel his tongue moving with expert precision, his fingers thrusting deeper, harder, until you were teetering on the edge of oblivion.

You could feel the tension building, that delicious, overwhelming pressure that made it impossible to think of anything other than him—his mouth, his fingers, the way he was devouring you like you were the last meal he’d ever get.

And then, without warning, you shattered. The orgasm ripped through you, your body convulsing as pleasure flooded every nerve, and Satoru didn’t stop. His fingers continued to move, his tongue still lapping at you, drawing out every last wave of pleasure until you were trembling, breathless, completely undone.

He pulled back slightly, his lips and chin slick with your sweet decadent release, and he looked up at you with a satisfied grin. That sly look, he always has that excitement when he makes you feel this way. Gojo Satoru believes he always has to win, one way or the other.

“You taste like heaven, babe. A hundred percent heaven.” he murmured, his voice rough, hoarse, as he licked his lips, savoring the taste of you.

You could barely catch your breath, your body still trembling as you leaned back against the rough brick wall for support, staring down at him with a dazed smile. Sweat permeated through your skin as you caught yourself back to some sense again.

“You’re unbelievable, Satoru.” you muttered, chest rising and falling rapidly as you tried to recover from the intensity of it all.

Satoru took a moment to meet your orbs. Once more, they echoed that same desire. He was still hungry, he was still wanting more. Your lover rose to his feet, his body pressing against yours once again as he captured your lips in a heated kiss once again.

You moan against the roughness of his desire, pushing against his tongue with your own. Almost instantly, you could taste yourself on his lips, the remnants of your slick still clinging to him, and it only made you crave him more.

“You love it, babe.” he whispered against your mouth, his hands sliding up your body, possessive, confident. “And well, so do I.”

You couldn’t deny it. The way he had you, completely under his control, yet giving you everything you wanted, was intoxicating. You were hooked, the moment you met Satoru. You knew that when you let him get deeper and deeper, you couldn’t live without him.

Without his kisses, his eyes, his warmth, his touch. One way or another, you were trapped with your want. You wanted more of him, like a greedy little vixen who won’t stop until you get what you wanted. And there was no turning back.

As you both pulled away and began dressing once again, the heat of the moment still thrumming between you, Satoru watched you with that mischievous grin, his cerulean eyes glinting in the low light. His hands brushed over your waist, teasing, as you adjusted your clothes, but there was still that lingering tension, that promise of more to come.

As you both stepped out of the secluded spot, you shot him a playful wink. “Try to keep up next time, Satoru.”

He chuckled, his smirk widening. “You think you can outlast me, doll?”

You grinned, leaning in to kiss him roughly, your lips pressing against his with that same intensity from earlier. “Oh I know I can.”

And you wanted to prove that yourself.

Instead of going back to the party, it was your turn.

It was your turn to be just as hungry for him.

You took his hand, grinning at him and pulling him away.

There were still unoccupied guest beds after all.

Gojo Satoru couldn’t shake the feeling that he loved making you sweat even more than before. The heat of the moment radiated between you as you found yourselves in one of the bedrooms, the faint thump of the party still audible in the background, but all you could focus on was each other. The room felt electric, filled with anticipation and desire, and the scent of your skin only heightened his need.

You weren’t sure whose bedroom it was, but that hardly mattered. What mattered was the way he had you bent over, your hands gripping the edge of the bed as he pressed into you from behind. The sensation was overwhelming, a delicious mix of pleasure and pressure that sent shivers through your spine.

“God, you feel amazing.” he murmured with desire. “Babe, how are you always so good?”

You could hear how his voice reverberated low and rough as he playfully ran his hands over the mound of your ass, savoring the way it responded to his playful touch. Each squeeze elicited soft gasps from your lips, and he couldn’t help but smile wide at how perfectly you arched for him, begging for more of him in you.

With one hand pressed against your back, you guided him deeper and deeper inside of you, ensuring your body was perfectly positioned for him. The way your skin glistened bright under the low light was nothing short of divine, and every movement sent waves of heat coursing through every fiber of Satoru’s being.

The greedy echo sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, a rhythmic echo that felt almost sacred to him. Gojo Satoru likes to think he was a worshiper and your body was his temple. And you were his god. You were his everything.

Each and every time he made love to you, it was like holy hymns reverberating through the air, fueling his desire further. He loved the feeling of being so deeply connected to you, the way your bodies moved together in perfect harmony.

“Tell me you like this, babe.” he demanded, his voice husky with lust as he picked up the pace, driving into you with a steady force. “Tell me you feel gooddddd, oh—”

His hand shifted from your back to your hip, fingers digging into your skin as he pulled you closer, using his grip to push you further onto him. Everything felt like a burning pandemonium as he got deeper in crevices in you that you never thought existed before.

You could feel your mouth watering, drooling as he pushed in and out of you, like he memorized the map and was finding it again, over and over. It was an interesting thing, how you could feel ever so alive just by being in his arms. By being so full of him. You know your lover boy feels the same thing too.

“Yes, yes, Satoru!” you gasped, your breath hitching as he hit that perfect spot, the pressure building with every thrust. You could feel the heat pooling low in your stomach, and each of his movements only intensified it.

“Good girl, my good girl. My pretty little babe.” he praised, the raw satisfaction in his voice making your heart race even faster.

Gojo Satoru seems to thrive on this, every single time. He’d always been crazy. He knew that much. Much more so in bed. It was hard to find that genuinity of intimacy. Not only in the innocence of adoration, but the crazy roughness of sensuality.

So when he met you and you matched his crazy, he found himself thriving. He found himself living pleasure through you, in ways he’d never known before. And he’d been glad for that. He’d been glad for you.

It was the way you responded to him, the way you melted under his touch every time you made love. It was the sweat that bound your flesh together. It was the way you would bite him as he pounded deeper into you. It was the way his fingers would dig onto your thighs and mark them.

It was the way your nails would create a mess of bloody constellations on the neatness of his skin. It was the feeling of his fat balls slapping against your ass, the way your body reacted, was intoxicating. Every sound you made, every gasp, felt like music to his ears.

Everything you did, everything you gave him — it had made him feel so alive.

He leaned over you, his breath hot against your neck as he whispered. “You’re so fucking beautiful like this. Just for me, hm? Just for me.”

His words sent a thrill through you, and you couldn’t help but push back against him, wanting more, craving that deep connection that seemed to pulse between you. “More, Satoru. Please, don’t stop.”

He smirked slyly and immediately pushed to oblige, driving into you with renewed fervor> You cried out as the heat of the moment enveloping you both, his body pushing closer and closer to you, as though he wanted it to merge.

Each thrust sent shockwaves through your body, igniting every nerve ending as you lost yourself in the rhythm, caught in a world that existed only for the two of you. You could care less if anyone were to walk in and see how deplorable this situation was. You could care less if someone screams in shock.

No, nothing else mattered. It was pleasure that mattered. There was only you in this universe, only him and you — wet by the water of sweat that pools between the desire to make each other whole.

“Damn, you’re perfect, babe.” he groaned, the sound vibrating through your body as he leaned into you more, the weight of him pressing you down, anchoring you to the moment. “So, so perfect.”

The way he played with you, using your body to bring himself pleasure, sent you spiraling into pure ecstasy. Nothing else has come close to making you both feel alive. It was just this moment that made you feel that life was worth living.

Just the two of you, the heat, the pleasure, and the way he made you feel alive. This was all that life needs. This was all what the Strongest needed to feel alive. Jujutsu was given to him from the moment he was born, it was as natural as breathing. But this moment with you, taking you as his own. Everything about this was his humanity.

This was primal. This was instinct. It was trial and error. And it was crazy. Nothing else will come close to how much he loves to be an animal with you. You groaned as you bit his shoulder hard, blood spoiling against his sweat. He groaned in pleasure, before grinning. Each thrust brought you closer to the edge, and the anticipation built until you could hardly contain it, ready to let go and embrace the bliss that awaited you.

Satoru's pace quickened, each thrust becoming more urgent, more desperate. You could feel him deep inside you, filling you completely, and every time he drove into you, your body responded with a jolt of pleasure that made your vision blur. You were utterly lost in the moment, overwhelmed by the sensations he was drawing out of you.

“God, you’re so tight, babe.” he groaned, his voice strained as he struggled to keep his composure. “How do you always know how to cage my cock? How do you always make it know where it belongs?”

He loved the way your body wrapped around him, how every inch of you seemed to beg for more. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mixing with your soft moans, creating a symphony of pleasure that echoed around you.

“Don’t hold back, Satoru.” you urged, your voice a breathy whisper that barely escaped your lips. “I want all of you, Satoru. Just like this. Come. Just do it.”

That demand of yours sent a rush of adrenaline through him, and he grinned against your shoulder, he himself biting there as you groaned like a prey against the hunter. He lifted his mouth, and stared at his masterpiece for a little while longer. That was surely to leave a mark. He snickers.

“You asked for it, babe.” He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you up against him, using his strength to drive you deeper onto him. The change in angle had you gasping, your head falling back against his shoulder as waves of pleasure crashed over you.

“You feel so good.” he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. “I could do this all night.”

“Then do it.” you urged, your body instinctively arching back into him, eager for every thrust, every delicious stretch. “Make me feel it.”

He laughs as he hits hard at one thrust, making your body shake against the covers. You groan hard as you try to hold on for dear life. You knew what you egged him to do. Then continued thrusting into you with a fierce intensity that had you moaning his name, your body responding eagerly to each movement.

It was as if the world outside had faded away, and all that existed was the connection between you—his body, your body, moving in perfect unison. The pleasure built inside you like a coiled spring, tightening with every thrust. You could feel that familiar tension, that edge creeping closer, and all you could think about was how good he felt, how right it all was.

“Satoru, I’m coming. Oh my god—” you started, but the words died on your lips as he hit that sweet spot again, sending shockwaves through your body.

“Yeah? You gonna come for me?” he teased, his voice thick with lust as he leaned closer, kissing down your neck, his teeth grazing your skin. The sensation made your entire body tingle, and you could only nod, the words lost in a haze of pleasure.

“Tell me how much you want it, babe.” he demanded, his voice a low growl that made your heart race even faster.

“More, please! I need to—ah!” The plea escaped your lips as he thrust deeper, the pleasure overwhelming. “I need to come, Satoru!”

“Then let go,” he urged, his voice dripping with seduction. “I want to feel you fall apart for me.”

With his words wrapping around you like a spell, the tension finally snapped, and you cried out as waves of ecstasy crashed over you. It was like nothing you’d ever felt before. It was like you had seen the light for the first time with him.

It was so delicate and pure, that echo of unadulterated bliss that sent your body shuddering in pleasure. Satoru continued to thrust into you, riding out your orgasm with slow, deliberate movements that sent aftershocks of pleasure coursing through you.

“Just like that, babe. You feel so fucking good.” he groaned, his own breath ragged as he watched you unravel beneath him.

The sight of you losing yourself was intoxicating, even more so your juices mixing with his in a watery flow within your crevices. And he couldn’t help but feel that rush of pride at how he could make you feel this way.

As you came down from your high, Gojo Satoru slowed his movements, still keeping you close as he pressed kisses along your back. The warmth of his body enveloped you, and you reveled in the afterglow, the way your heart raced in time with his.

“You okay?” he asked softly, his voice laced with genuine concern as he pulled back to look at you, his blue eyes searching your face.

“Better than okay, babe.” you replied with a breathless laugh, turning to meet his gaze. “That was… incredible.”

He grinned, a playful glint in his eyes. “Just wait until round two. I’ve got plenty more where that came from.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress your smile. “You’re insatiable, Satoru.”

“Maybe so, babe.” he replied, leaning in to capture your lips in a soft kiss. “But I think you love it.”

You couldn’t deny it. The thrill of the night, the way he made you feel—it was a heady mix of excitement and desire that left you craving more. As you both pulled away, he gently squeezed your waist, a teasing smile playing on his lips.

“Let’s give them something to talk about when we go back out there.”

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh? And what do you have in mind?”

He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear. “I’ll show you.”

And with that, he swept you into another kiss, ready to take on the world outside, but knowing that this was only the beginning of your night together. You had a lot more to sweat in water together, whatever the form.

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covenofagatha · 13 hours ago

Note

Okay hear me out Agatha x Reader age gap fic. The reader and Agatha have been together for awhile I was thinking like she used to be your college professor before you graduated, The reader has a monthly night out scheduled with friends from school but Agatha like usual declines in your offer to join you all. Agatha just doesn’t have interest in the “young people bars” and hanging out with old students is strange to her, though it’s a little upsetting you don’t push too much before relenting and going on your way. A little bit into the night despite your efforts in avoiding said persons advances you’re being continuously hit on by either a stranger in the bar or a friend from the group that is your choice! But the resolve would be Agatha showing up cause she felt guilty about always declining, her witnessing and then defusing the situation (jealously obviously). I absolutely love possessive Agatha and love everything you’ve written so far! Whether it ends in smut is also completely up to you!!!

Hope you enjoy and thank you for the very detailed request!! This will be a two-parter and the next part will be based on a request I got about jealous reader x Professor Agatha.

A lesson in jealousy (Part 1)

Agatha gets jealous when she finds you at a bar and a guy is already talking to you.

Word count: 2100

Tags: marking, jealousy, making out, slight thigh grinding

“I was thinking of ordering pizza for tonight?” Agatha muses, already looking at you when you turn your head to face her.

You’re sitting on the couch in her office, nose buried in a book for one of your other classes. Agatha was your professor two years ago and there had been a spark, at least on your end, so you had kept in touch.

It wasn’t until a year ago when you had bridged the gap between a professional relationship and something more when you had kissed her one night after getting drinks at a bar across town.

You had immediately pulled back, apologizing incessantly, but much to your surprise, she had dragged you back in for more.

That night was the first of many that you spent in her bed.

Although she was no longer your teacher, you still attended the college that she worked at, so there was a bit of a gray area. Meaning, you two had to keep it under wraps.

“Oh, sorry,” you say, finally answering Agatha’s question. “I’m going out with my friends tonight. It’s our monthly bar trivia thing that we always do. I think I told you.” She hums and you frown. “What?”

Agatha shrugs. “Seems like we haven’t had a quiet night in awhile, that’s all.”

“You could always come tonight,” you offer hopefully. Her nose wrinkles and she raises an eyebrow and you know why she’s being like this. “You could just happen to show up and I’ll just happen to see you and I’ll invite you to join our team. It’ll be fun!”

And yet you know her answer before she even says it. “That’s not really my scene, baby.” You pout and slouch down further into the couch. She has never once taken you up on an invitation, even though you practically beg her every time. She rolls her eyes exasperatedly. It’s an old game for both of you. “Come on, hon, you know I have no interest in going to a bar with a bunch of college kids on a Friday night where everyone will be drinking and making noise and I taught most of your friends. I just think that it will be weird.”

A flash of anger bubbles up to protect you from the hurt you feel deep down. Would it kill her to do something for you? “I’m also a college kid who will be out drinking and ‘making noise’ and you were my professor two years ago. Is that weird?”

She sighs heavily and pushes her chair back, patting her thighs. She wants you to come over, but you grit your teeth and don’t give in. “Of course not. That’s not what I meant, obviously. Just spending my Friday evening with a bunch of college kids isn’t what I’ve wanted to do for a long time.”

You stand up, shoving your books and laptop in your bag and Agatha scoffs and says your name. You meet her eyes, disappointment written all over your face. It kills you to show her how much her rejection hurts, but you’re tired of it.

“Come here, please,” she says softly. You grumble but obey. You slide off your backpack and sit on her laps, tensely putting your arms around her neck. Despite how mad you are, you still fiddle with her strands on her nape that aren’t in her bun. She leans in to kiss your lips but you don’t let it go any further than a press of her mouth against yours. You won’t give in that easily.

“You never come,” you whine.

She tucks a piece of hair behind your ear. “I know, sweetheart. I just worry it might be risky for us to be seen out in public like that. Why don’t you come over after and we can have a movie night or something? I’ll take you to a bar tomorrow night, I promise. Just the two of us.”

You can see there’s no use trying to fight her on this. No matter what you say, she won’t come with you and you’d rather not have to open up and tell her how you want to just spend a night with the most important people in your life: Agatha and your best friends. You also feel a little insecure about being so young. She is over twice your age and you worry that sometimes you aren’t enough for her, or that she thinks you’re too immature. “Okay,” you say, voice small.

She squeezes your waist and gives you another peck. “That’s my girl. Don’t come over too late and I’ll make it worth your while.” She winks and you force a smile and climb off her lap.

“I’ll see you later, Agatha.”

“Hon, you don’t have to leave right now,” she calls but you’re already walking to the door. You wave a hand as a goodbye and you moodily walk back to your dorm.

You sulk the rest of the day and debate whether or not you even want to go out to the bar, but ultimately decide that you deserve it. You don’t need Agatha to have a good time, as much as you’d like her.

“There she is! It’s been awhile!” Natasha exclaims when you get to their table and claps a hand on your back. You wince but pull her in for a hug. You’ve been swamped with homework and when you do have free time, it’s spent with Agatha, so you have barely seen your friends in the past month.

“Sorry, I’ve been so busy,” you mumble while greeting Wanda and Maria, also at the table.

“First round is on you for neglecting us!” Wanda says and you laugh and happily go to the bar to order beers for the group.

“What can I get you?” The bartender asks when you finally make your way through the crowd.

“Four Pilsners, please,” you almost have to shout. Someone next to you bumps into you roughly and you jump.

“Oh shit, sorry.” A guy about your age turns around, with shaggy dark hair and blue eyes. Something about his features is so familiar.

“You’re good,” you say. “Do I know you?”

He stares intently at your face, trying to place you. He snaps his fingers. “Professor Harkness’s class, freshman year. Something about witchcraft. I sat in the row in front you. You were like the only one who actually knew what they were talking about. I think you were her favorite by a long shot.”

You blush at hearing that someone else picked up on Agatha liking you. “I don’t know if I’d say that,” you say coyly, smiling a little at the thought of the older woman.

“I’m James. So, uh,” the boy says, sliding a hand nonchalantly around your waist. You freeze. “What’s a pretty girl like you doing all alone at a bar?”

“I’m not alone,” you quickly say, stepping back so his hand falls off, and you point to the table with your friends. “We’re here for trivia night.”

His face lights up and he motions toward a different table with a group of guys. “We are too, but they all suck. Can I join your team?”

“Um-” You’re trying to figure out how to let him down gently when the bartender puts down the four beers in front of you. You reach for your wallet but James slaps a $20 on the counter.

“I got it,” he says proudly and then before you can protest, he grabs two of the beers and you follow with the other drinks, dumbfounded, as he walks over to your table. Your friends give you quizzical looks but you just shrug tiredly. You can’t find it in yourself to care that much right now.

The host of the trivia game comes around to each table and hands out the paper for answers and a pen. He asks the first question: when is Taylor Swift’s birthday.

You immediately say the answer and James pats his hand on your shoulder but it turns into more of a rub. Your eyes widen and your friends bite back a smile.

“I’m actually seeing someone,” you say and take his hand off of you. Your friends look even more surprised than he does. Even though you’ve been dating Agatha for close to a year now, you’ve been really secretive and change the topic whenever your love life comes up with them.

“Come on, baby, don’t be like that,” he says, raising his arms like he’s trying to show you that he’s harmless. He moves to touch you again but a hand darts out and grabs his wrist. You turn and your jaw falls open.

It’s Agatha, and she is positively fuming.

“I think she said she’s taken,” she growls and James backs off.

“Professor Harkness,” he stutters. “I wasn’t trying to do anything, we were just having a good time.” He turns to you, eyes pleading. It’s almost funny how scary he still finds the older woman. “Tell her, we were just talking.”

You wish he had said anything but that. Agatha whirls onto you. “Were you?” She hisses and you gulp. She scoffs as you protest and storms out of the bar.

Ignoring the looks from your friends, you chase after her down the alleyway.

“Agatha, wait,” you yell. “He kept hitting on me and I was trying to let him down gently but he kept trying. I told him that I was with someone else! I’m sorry.”

She spins on her heel and advances toward you. You stop like a deer in headlights and she shoves you against the brick wall before you can think. Her hands grab your wrists and pin them to the wall. You struggle futilely.

“Is this your pathetic attempt of getting back at me?” You furrow your brows in confusion and she laughs sardonically. “I was feeling so guilty earlier. You looked so sad when I didn’t want to come and I thought that maybe I could try, for you. I always say no and what a nice surprise it would be for my girlfriend if I showed up. And then what do I find? My pet is flirting with someone else. Not just someone, a sleazy college boy who would probably cum after two pumps because he’s so incompetent.” She’s snarling, her face an inch away from yours, and you hate how turned on you are.

You’ve always liked it when she got possessive over you.

“I didn’t want him,” you say levelly. “I only want you.”

She huffs like it’s a joke. “Sure you don’t want the college fuckboy? Or any of the other people in the bar? They’d never hesitate to join you for trivia night.”

And then it hits you. She’s jealous because she’s insecure. She also worries about the age difference.

Your heart swells and you break free of her grasp to grab her cheeks and pull her in for a long and filthy kiss. You moan into her mouth when her tongue swipes against yours and she fits a thigh between your legs.

“I’m all yours, Agatha,” you groan when she tugs your bottom lip between her teeth and her eyes flash.

“You better be,” she warns and entangles her fingers in your hair so she can tilt your head to the side and sink a bite into the juncture of your neck and shoulder. Your hips buck on her thigh and you gasp when she sucks roughly. She trails up your neck, doing the same thing over and over, and you’re quickly reduced to a moaning, desperate mess.

Her other hand trails down to hold onto your hip, just feeling you shakily grind against her, trying to get some relief.

“Should I go back inside and get James to come out and watch this?” She asks against your skin, still marking you up. “So he knows what happens when he touches things that aren’t his?”

You inhale sharply at the thought and wish that she would just drag you back inside and fuck you right there on the table in front of everyone.

“Please,” you beg. She actually giggles and pulls back to admire her handiwork on your neck. She lightly traces over the marks and you shiver under her touch and intense gaze.

Agatha smirks when she meets your eyes again. “That should let everyone know who you belong to. And you, in case you need the reminder.”

You pretend to think for a moment. “Maybe I could use a refresher. Why don’t you show me who owns me?”

Her eyes darken even more as she pulls you back in for a searing kiss that she ends too quickly.

She yanks her thigh from out between yours and grabs your hand, dragging you to the car.

“Oh, I’m going to, baby.”

#agatha harkness x fem!reader #agatha harkness x reader #agatha x reader #agatha x you #agatha harkness x you #kathryn hahn x reader #agatha all along

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dollyhyuckii · 2 days ago

Text

ASKING THE DREAMIES (NCT DREAM) TO GO OUT

hyung nct dream! x fem reader!⋆୨୧˚ word count-over 2.k words ⋆୨୧˚

summary-asking nct dream if you can go out⋆୨୧˚

cw- this is part 1!, part 2 is here!, everything is lower case on purpose ⋆୨୧˚

an- hii, this is my series of nct dream scenarios!, jaemin, chenle and jisung are in my part two!, theme inspiration and prompt credits go too-@ohmygs-blog, requests for this series are always open,

MARK⋆୨୧˚

the soft hum of a melody drifted through the apartment as you approached mark. he was seated at his desk, a notebook open in front of him, pencil twirling lazily in his fingers. the guitar resting on his knee had clearly been abandoned for the moment, though the occasional strum suggested he was still thinking about his song.

you hesitated in the doorway, chewing your lip. interrupting mark when he was deep in his creative flow always made you nervous, even though he’d never once complained. as if sensing your presence, he glanced over his shoulder and smiled, his dimples making your heart melt.

“hey, baby,” he said, setting the guitar down and turning his chair to face you fully. “what’s up? you’ve got that look like you’re about to ask me for a big favor.”

you laughed nervously and stepped into the room, playing with the hem of your sweater. “it’s not a big favor. I just… wanted to ask if it’s okay if i go out tonight. the girls invited me, but i don’t have to go if you want me to stay.”

mark blinked at you, his expression softening with a mix of amusement and affection. “why do you always ask like you need my permission? of course, you can go, baby. you don’t have to check in with me.”

“i know, i know,” you replied quickly. “i just feel bad leaving you here by yourself.”

he chuckled, standing up and crossing the room to you. “you’re not leaving me stranded on a deserted island, babe. you’re going out for a few hours. besides,” he added, pulling you into his arms, “i think you deserve a night out baby. you’ve been working so hard lately.”

you melted into his embrace, the tension leaving your shoulders. “are you sure? i don’t want you to feel like i’m ditching you.”

mark leaned back slightly, tilting your chin up so your eyes met his. “i’m sure. the only thing I’ll feel bad about is if my pretty baby doesn’t send me a selfie before she leave. you always look so pretty when you dress up, and i don’t want to miss out.”

you laughed, swatting lightly at his chest. “fine, i’ll send you a picture. but don’t complain if I take too long deciding what to wear.”

“i’d never complain,” he said with a wink. “though if you want some advice, you should wear that little black dress. you know the one.”

“oh, so now you’re giving fashion advice?” you teased.

“just trying to be helpful,” he shot back with a grin. he stepped back, grabbing his guitar again but pausing before sitting. “seriously, though. go out and have fun, okay? don’t overthink it. just text me when you’re there so i know you’re safe.”

you nodded, smiling as warmth spread through your chest. “thanks, markie. you’re the best.”

“i know,” he said, plucking a playful chord on his guitar. “but I’ll be even better if you bring me back dessert.”

“noted,” you replied with a laugh, leaning down to kiss him on the forehead before heading to get ready.

RENJUN⋆୨୧˚

renjun was stretched out on the couch when you found him, a sketchbook balanced on his knees and a pencil in hand. his brows furrowed in concentration as his hand moved deftly across the page. the soft sounds of music floated from the speaker, blending perfectly with the calm atmosphere of your shared space.

you stood there for a moment, just watching him. he looked so peaceful, his focus entirely on the details of his drawing. but you had plans to go out tonight, and you didn’t want to leave without checking in with him.

clearing your throat gently, you walked over and perched on the armrest beside him. renjun glanced up at you, his sharp eyes softening the moment he saw your face.

“my pretty girl,” he smiled as he greeted you, his lips quirking into a small smile. “what’s up? you look like you’re about to ask me something.”

you bit your lip, your fingers fidgeting with the edge of your sweater. “i, uh… i wanted to ask if it’s okay if i go out tonight. the girls invited me, and i figured i’d go, but i don’t want you to feel like i’m leaving you here by yourself.”

renjun tilted his head, a teasing glint in his eyes. “since when do you need my permission to go out pretty?”

you rolled your eyes, a blush creeping up your cheeks. “i don’t need permission, renjun. i just want to make sure you’re okay with it.”

he chuckled softly, setting his sketchbook and pencil aside before turning his full attention to you. “why wouldn’t i be okay with it? you should go have fun with your friends. it’s not like i’ll be sitting here waiting for you to come back,” he added, though the playful smirk on his lips betrayed him.

“uh-huh,” you said, raising an eyebrow. “i know you, renjun. you’ll act all cool and indifferent, but then you’ll text me a hundred times to make sure i’m safe.”

“first of all,” he replied, feigning offense, “i’d text maybe five times, max. and second, can you blame me for caring about my pretty girl?”

you laughed, leaning down to rest your forehead against his. “no, i can’t. and i love that about you. but seriously, are you sure you’re okay with it? i don’t have to go if you want me to stay.”

renjun sighed, his hands finding their way to yours. “you always do this. you act like i’m some overprotective boyfriend who doesn’t want you to have a life outside of me.”

“because sometimes you are,” you teased, earning a mock glare from him.

“okay, fair,” he admitted with a grin. “but this time, i mean it. go out, have fun, and don’t worry about me. i’ll be fine. besides,” he added, leaning back against the couch, “this just gives me more time to work on my art without distractions.”

you narrowed your eyes at him. “distractions?”

“the cute kind,” he clarified quickly, pulling you down into his lap with a laugh. “you’re my favorite distraction, but even i need a break sometimes.”

you giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck. “fine. I’ll go. but you better not forget to text me back when i send you updates.”

“deal,” he said, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “and don’t forget to send me a picture before you leave. i like knowing what you’re wearing so i can tell you how stunning you look.”

“you’re so cheesy,” you said, though your heart fluttered at his words.

“only for my pretty girl,” he replied, his voice warm and sincere.

with a final kiss, you slipped off his lap and headed to your room to get ready, feeling lighter and more loved than ever.

JENO⋆୨୧˚

the sound of the game controller clicking filled the room as jeno sat cross-legged on the floor, fully engrossed in the match playing out on the tv screen. his posture was relaxed, but his focus was razor sharp, his fingers moving swiftly as he worked to defeat whatever opponent was on the other side of the screen.

you stood by the doorway for a moment, debating how to bring up your plans for the night. jeno wasn’t the type to get overly possessive or upset, but you always liked to check in with him before going out. it wasn’t about asking for permission, it was about the comfort of knowing you were both on the same page.

“hey,” you called softly, stepping into the living room.

jeno paused the game immediately, turning to you with that warm, easy smile of his. “hey baby, what’s up?”

you folded your arms, feeling a little shy under his gaze. “i was just wondering… the girls invited me out tonight, and i think i’m gonna go. is that okay with you?”

his smile didn’t falter, but his head tilted slightly in curiosity. “why wouldn’t it be okay? you don’t need to ask me for stuff like that.”

“i know,” you said quickly, walking over to sit beside him on the floor. “i just, i like to check in with you. make sure you don’t feel like i’m ditching you or anything.”

jeno let out a soft laugh, reaching over to take your hand in his. “you’re so thoughtful, you know that baby? but no, babe, i don’t feel ditched. i want you to have fun.”

“are you sure?” you asked, leaning into his shoulder. “because i can stay if you want me to. we could watch a movie or something instead.”

he shook his head, his hand squeezing yours gently. “no, really, i’m good. besides,” he added, glancing toward the TV, “this is a rematch night with the guys. you know how competitive they get.”

“ah, so you’re busy, too,” you teased, poking his side.

“exactly,” he said, grinning. “so go. have fun with your friends. you deserve a night out.”

you smiled, feeling a wave of warmth spread through you at his easygoing support. “you’re the best, you know that?”

“of course i know that,” he said, leaning in to press a quick kiss to your lips. “but you should still remind me more often.”

laughing, you got to your feet, tugging him up with you. “well, since you’re so perfect, can i ask for one more favor?”

“anything baby,” he said, his expression immediately softening.

“help me pick out what to wear?”

jeno raised an eyebrow, his lips curving into a playful smirk. “oh, you’re really giving me that kind of power, huh?”

“i trust you,” you replied, pulling him toward your room.

he followed you willingly, sitting on the edge of the bed as you started pulling options from your closet. as you held up each outfit,

jeno gave his honest opinion, sometimes teasing, sometimes serious, but always considerate.

when you finally settled on a look, he gave an approving nod. “that one. you look amazing, but not like you’re trying too hard. just… perfect.”

you blushed under his gaze, smoothing your hands over the fabric. “thanks, jeno. i’ll send you a picture before i leave, okay?”

“you better,” he said, pulling you close for another kiss. “and don’t forget to text me when you’re there, when you leave, and when you’re on your way back.”

“anything else, dad?” you teased, though the care in his voice made your heart melt.

he laughed, tapping your nose. “just stay safe, okay baby? i’ll be here when you get back.”

as you grabbed your bag and got ready to head out, you glanced back at jeno one last time. he waved you off with a grin, already settling back into his game.

HAECHAN⋆୨୧˚

the late afternoon sun streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow across the room as you leaned against the kitchen counter, sipping on a glass of iced tea. haechan sat at the table, lazily scrolling through his phone, occasionally humming some tune that was stuck in his head. he looked up at you with a smile when he noticed you were watching him.

“what?” he asked, his tone teasing. “you can’t take your eyes off me, huh?”

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “something like that,” you replied, setting your glass down.

he raised an eyebrow, leaning forward slightly. “okay, what do you want? that’s your i’m about to ask for something face.”

laughing, you shook your head. “can’t i just look at my boyfriend without an ulterior motive?”

“not when you’re making that face baby,” he quipped, tapping his fingers on the table. “alright, spill it. what’s up?”

you hesitated for a moment, suddenly unsure of how he’d react. “so… the girls are going out tonight, and they want me to come. i thought i’d check in with you first, see how you feel about it.”

haechan blinked, leaning back in his chair as a slow grin spread across his face. “you thought you’d check in with me? what, do i look like the jealous type to you?”

“no,” you said quickly. “but, you know, i just want to make sure you’re cool with it. i don’t want to make you feel like i’m ditching you or anything.”

“ditching me?” he placed a hand over his heart in mock offense. “baby, if anything, you’re giving me the perfect opportunity to miss you.”

you laughed, shaking your head at his dramatic response. “so, you’re okay with it?”

“of course i’m okay with it,” he said, standing up and walking over to you. he leaned against the counter beside you, his hand brushing yours. “but there’s a condition.”

“uh-oh,” you said, narrowing your eyes at him. “what’s the catch?”

“you have to wear that dress,” he said, his tone playful but his eyes warm. “you know, the one i love. and before you go, you have to come show me how stunning you look.”

you raised an eyebrow at him. “oh, is that all?”

“for now,” he said with a wink.

“alright, deal,” you said, crossing your arms. “but i get to make a condition, too.”

“oh, this should be good,” he said, leaning closer. “hit me with it baby.”

“you have to promise to actually eat dinner while i’m gone,” you said, poking his chest. “no skipping meals just because i’m not here to make sure you’re fed.”

haechan pretended to gasp, his hand flying to his chest again. “what do you take me for? i’m a grown man! i can feed myself.”

“uh-huh,” you said, not convinced. “i’ll believe it when i see it.”

he laughed, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you closer. “alright, deal. i’ll send you a picture of my dinner to prove it, and you send me a picture of you looking like the queen you are before you leave. sound fair?”

“fair,” you agreed, resting your hands on his chest.

“and don’t forget to text me when you get there, okay?” he said, his tone softening. “i know i joke around a lot sunshine, but i worry about you when you’re out.”

“i will,” you promised, touched by his sincerity. “And i’ll text you when i’m heading home, too.”

“good,” he said, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. “now go get ready. you’re about to be the most beautiful girl at that place, and i need to brag to myself about how lucky i am.”

shaking your head at his antics, you pulled away to get dressed. as you left the room, you heard him call out, “don’t forget the dress! it’s non-negotiable!”

you laughed to yourself, feeling a mix of excitement and comfort in knowing that haechan would always have your back, no matter what.

dreamies masterlist here⋆୨୧˚

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insidekatmind · 2 days ago

Text

Meet my sister P.7-Jude Bellingham

plot: Federico Valverde wants to introduce his younger sister to Jude, his teammate. He hoped that something romantic would be born between them seeing that their characters were perfect together but things take a different turn

Federico’s house had been transformed for the occasion: soft lighting, music playing in the background, and tables full of food and drinks. The party was the perfect way to unwind after an intense week, and Federico had worked hard to ensure everything was flawless.

As the first guests started to arrive, Federico took a moment to gather his teammates in the living room, determined to set a few clear rules. He crossed his arms and gave them a stern look while they, already holding drinks, watched him with a mix of curiosity and amusement.

“Alright, listen up,” Federico began, his tone firm. “This party is for you guys, so have fun, but there are two things I won’t tolerate: one, anyone going overboard and causing a mess in my house; and two, anyone arguing with my sister.”

At those words, Vinicius, who was leaning casually against the couch with a drink in hand, burst out laughing. “Oh, Fede, you’re always the same! You sound like a bodyguard!” he teased, shaking his head. “No arguing with your sister, got it, Jude?” he added, throwing a pointed look at the Englishman.

Jude, who had remained stoic up until that moment, gave a sarcastic smile. “I don’t even know why you’re worried, Valverde. I’m not the problem here.”

Rodrygo, sitting next to Jude, couldn’t resist shooting him a mischievous glance. “Oh, really? You’re not the problem? Funny, because judging by how you looked at her at the restaurant, it seemed like the problem was all yours.”

“Rodrygo, shut up,” Jude muttered, shooting him a warning glare, a faint blush creeping onto his cheeks.

“See?” Federico interjected, throwing his hands up. “This is exactly the kind of behavior I don’t want to see tonight. I’m serious, Jude, don’t make me regret inviting you.”

Jude rolled his eyes. “Relax, Valverde. I can tolerate your sister for a few hours.”

“We’ll see about that,” Vinicius quipped with a sly grin. “But I bet the two of you will be clashing again before the night’s over.”

Federico sighed, shaking his head, but decided to drop the subject. “You’ve been warned. Now behave yourselves, or I’ll throw you all out.”

As Federico walked off to greet more guests, Vinicius sidled up to Jude, giving him a playful pat on the shoulder. “So, are you ready for another battle with the boss’s sister?”

“There won’t be any battles,” Jude replied coolly, though his expression betrayed a hint of curiosity.

Rodrygo chuckled softly, leaning on the armrest of the couch. “Oh, Jude, Jude… you and her are like fire and gasoline. I can’t wait to see what happens tonight.”

Jude flashed a mischievous smirk at Rodrygo’s comment, shrugging as if he didn’t care. But just as he was about to reply, his gaze wandered across the room and froze on you.

You had just walked in, chatting with one of your friends, wearing a short dress that accentuated every curve. The snug fabric and simple design highlighted your figure perfectly. Your hair was styled effortlessly, and your radiant smile caught everyone's attention. Jude couldn’t help but smirk as his eyes traveled from your head to your toes, lingering on your legs before shamelessly settling on your backside.

"Man, you're falling for it, and you don't even realize it," Vinicius whispered, barely suppressing his laughter.

Rodrygo, noticing Jude’s change in expression, nudged him on the shoulder. “Oh, look who’s completely lost his cool. Do you like what you see, Jude?” he teased, laughing.

"Shut up," Jude muttered, but the faint blush creeping up his cheeks betrayed him.

“Don’t tell us to shut up,” Kylian chimed in with a grin. “You’re the one practically undressing her with your eyes!”

Jude shot them an annoyed look but didn’t respond. Instead, his eyes drifted back to you, watching how effortlessly you moved through the crowd. For a moment, he wondered how someone could be so infuriatingly perfect.

Then, as if you sensed his stare, you turned in his direction. Your eyes met his, and Jude held your gaze with that arrogant smile of his, tilting his head slightly as if to challenge you. You raised an eyebrow, an expression you knew would fuel his irritation even more. With a faint smirk, you turned away, completely ignoring him, and resumed your conversation with your friend.

“Oh, it’s over,” Vinicius whispered, chuckling under his breath. “There’s no escape, Jude. She’s the one taming you.”

“Not a chance,” Jude shot back, shrugging as though unaffected. But deep down, he knew Vinicius wasn’t entirely wrong.

---

The music filled the air as the party continued, but you had momentarily moved toward the counter, away from the noise of the living room. You were sipping your drink, enjoying a few moments of peace, when you felt that unmistakable sensation: a gaze burning into you.

You didn’t even need to turn around to know who it was.

Jude had gotten up from the couch, carrying himself with that confident air that seemed to be an integral part of his personality. He approached slowly, holding a glass in his hand and wearing that mischievous smirk you knew all too well.

“Nice dress,” he began, stopping next to you, close enough for you to catch a whiff of his cologne. “Though, I have to say, it seems more like a weapon for distraction than just a piece of clothing.”

You turned toward him, raising an eyebrow. “Thanks,” you replied with a sweet but sarcastic smile. “I guess it works well for distraction, considering you seem to be the one who’s confused here.”

Jude chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Confused, me? No, I’m just observing. You know, it’s rare to see someone who enjoys provoking as much as you do without thinking of the consequences.”

“Oh, really? Because it seems like you’re the one who can’t stay away from me,” you shot back, your tone lightly teasing. “Don’t tell me you find me... interesting.”

Jude tilted his head, his eyes glinting with clear challenge. “Interesting? Maybe. Annoying? Definitely. But I’ll admit, you know how to grab attention—and not just mine.”

A laugh escaped you, genuine yet sharp. “Wow, what an honor! The great Jude Bellingham has noticed me. Too bad your ego is the only thing that’s taller than you.”

Jude narrowed his eyes slightly, holding back a smile as he stepped closer, further closing the distance between you. “And your attitude is the only thing sharper than your tongue,” he retorted.

“Well, someone has to keep you in check,” you replied with a shrug, looking at him nonchalantly.

“You? Keep me in check?” Jude shook his head incredulously. “You’re adorable when you try to dominate a conversation, you know that?”

That word, adorable, sparked something in your eyes, and Jude noticed, amused. It was a challenge he had no intention of losing. But you weren’t the type to let him have the upper hand.

His smile grew wider as he stepped closer to you, each step bringing him nearer. The distance between you was closing, and you could feel his warm breath brush against your skin. Jude wasn’t trying to hide his interest anymore, but he did it in that arrogant way that both annoyed and intrigued you.

“You’re always so hard to read,” he said in a lower voice, almost like he was whispering a secret just for you. “I don’t know if you like me, or if you’re just having fun making me lose my mind.”

You shrugged lightly, a soft laugh escaping your lips, but your gaze remained intense. “Maybe a bit of both,” you replied, “But I think you’re losing it more over your wounded pride than over me.”

Jude laughed again, but this time, it was less playful and more charged with something else. A game. A challenge. Without saying anything else, he got even closer, and with a sudden movement, ran his fingers through a strand of your hair, watching you intently as if that was the only way to truly understand you.

His eyes locked with yours, as if he wanted to read every thought passing through your mind. It was a casual movement, but you could feel the growing tension, and his gaze no longer slid over you like usual. He was studying you, savoring every moment of your reaction.

He looked at you again, this time without a trace of sarcasm. “Don’t you think I could make you do anything, if I wanted to?” he whispered.

His tone sent a shiver down your spine, but you didn’t back away. “Maybe,” you answered with a mischievous smile, “But I doubt you could keep me under control.”

He took another step closer, his body almost touching yours, and the air between you seemed more electric than ever. The challenge was now open, and Jude seemed ready to face it, but you had no intention of giving in easily.

“I like the way you think,” he said, his challenging smile not fading, “But let’s see if you’re just as good at not giving in… under pressure.”

Your mischievous smile left no doubt about your intentions. Your hand slowly slid over his chest, moving across the muscular lines of his abs, and you could feel his breath become heavier, his eyes changing expression, growing more intense and full of desire.

Jude was about to lose control, his grip slipping, but you knew. You could feel it in the tension of his body, in his hands ready to take you, but you had no intention of giving in so easily. In a moment, without warning, you gently pushed him back, making him step back with a firm move. Jude stood there, surprised, with short breath and his heart pounding in his chest.

"Not today," you whispered with an ironic smile, before turning and walking away, leaving him there, watching you as you left.

His friends, who had been watching the scene from afar, couldn't help but laugh. Vinicius shook his head, amused, while Mbappé chuckled softly. Rodrygo, with a mischievous grin, approached Jude, who still seemed to be in shock.

"She just put jude in his place," Vinicius said, laughing.

Jude stayed silent for a moment, then turned to his friends with a forced smile. "It’s not over," he murmured, as if making a promise, though he wasn’t sure what would happen next after that scene.

But one thing was clear: the challenge had only just begun.

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joaniscruzing · 13 hours ago

Text

echoes in the elixirs

WOOHOOOO yay this fic is finally done! i had so much fun writing this! thank you to everyone who supported the last fic i did, i was so happy to see so much interest! special shoutout to @joj0-thesimp for requesting and proofreading beforehand! per usual, requests are ALWAYS welcome! I write for jinx, vi and caitlyn, and do take smut requests.

also, i did my research on the herbs. a good amount of people predict that Jinx struggles with schizophrenia, which its symptoms can be alleviated with ginkgo. please let me know if my research is wrong, that way i can fix this :)

summary: jinx, looking rather off, enters your apothecary, to which you take care of her for the night.

warnings: mention of jinx's mental health issues, mention of seizures, lots of fluff, herbs are basically meds for jinx, jinx needs a hug, one-bed trope, cuddling

“Have a great day!” you called as you gave your product to your client. In the Undercity, every day in the apothecary was quite a busy one. Hundreds of people would file in every day, as they would trade in for your elixirs and remedies that would cure their pain and suffering, even if it was just for a while. The atmosphere was always loud and bustling, making you struggle to keep up.

However, when Jinx would arrive in your shop, things would usually calm down for the amount of time she was there. Business would slow down, and it was usually just you and her alone in the store. Or maybe it wasn’t, and you were just so enamored by Jinx to even notice. Either way, Jinx was your one time to stop and take a breather during the day, which was ironic, considering her electrifying, energetic presence.

“So, do you have my order, sugar?” Jinx would ask when she would enter.

“Sure do! Right here,” you’d always answer. However, today, there was something different. Jinx seemed like there was some sort of hole inside her. She hadn’t shown up for a while, since Silco had died, Piltover had been attacked, and she had had to hide to stay alive.

Today, however, she entered the store, a hood over her head, and her head low. Not to your surprise, instead of greeting you with those words, she browsed the store first, looking around, and generally not communicating with anyone. Understandable. However, you saw she was shaking as if winter’s frost had bitten her, and she had been without a coat. Trying not to overthink it too much, you went on with your business, packing up and giving your orders and occasionally convincing customers to buy more. When your final order was given, you left your table to check up on Jinx.

“Hey Jinx, are you okay?”

She seemed startled by your words, as if she didn’t expect you to come up to her and ask her that. She immediately tried to leave the store, ultimately avoiding your question.

“Jinx!” you called after her, grabbing her arm. “Do you need anything?”

“Yeah,” Jinx admitted, choked up in tone, “I need a shit ton of ginkgo biloba. More than you usually give.” Your stomach drops. Fortunately, now you know exactly what’s going on, and what you can do to help her.

“Is it getting worse?” you ask, turning Jinx around, and holding her shoulder. Her face was all you needed as an answer. Tear streaks lined her face, black and mixed up with her makeup. Her fingernails were unpainted and outlined with her blood from picking at the skin around it so much. The only distinct features that stayed were her two long braids, still hanging off her head and cascading past her waist to her ankles.

“With Silco dead, I just… don’t feel important anymore. They’re getting louder. I can’t sleep, or work, or do anything, I-” Jinx divulges, her head in her hands. You remove her hands from her face and replace them with your own.

“Jinx, do you need to stay here tonight? I can make you some food, and make you a nice tea with the ginkgo, as well as some lavender to calm you down. Whatever you need.”

“How much ginkgo?”

“The usual dosage I give you. Any more could make things a lot worse. Plus, the lavender will calm you down, help you sleep.”

“How much worse? Like what, I pass out for a week or something?”

“Jinx, have you ever heard of a seizure?”

“Oh. I guess I could stay the night. It’s not like I have anything better to do at home or anything.” With that, you closed up your shop, locking the doors, and covering the windows, that way no one knew you were secretly housing Piltover’s most wanted criminal.

You took the time to make Jinx a nice meal, as you knew she already didn’t eat enough, let alone whatever her eating habits were during this tough time of hers. As the meal cooked, you also ground up some lavender and ginkgo, which you then put into a bag in order to prepare her tea. After that, you left the kitchen in the back of your shop real quick to check on Jinx.

“Shut up! She wants to help me, I know it!” you heard her shouting, pacing around the room. Before you knew what you were doing, you ran up to her and hugged her as tightly as you could, making sure she knew that you did care. You heard her breathing slow down, and her body unwind as her tense state left her.

“You good, Jinx?” you asked. She pulled away to look at you, surprised.

“Why do you even care this much?”

“Look, you’ve told me a few things about yourself here and there. And it sucks. Other than the herbs I know you need to calm down, I know you need to be taken care of right now. You need someone to be there for you. And I want to be there for you right now.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re nice to be around.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re funny, and caring, and innovative, and your presence always brightens my day.” With this, Jinx’s round, purple eyes widen.

“I brighten your day?”

“Yes, Jinx. You brighten my day. I look forward to seeing you on the days you’re to come pick up your herbs just so I can see you, even if it’s for a few minutes. Jinx, everyone here is so down to business, and you’re the one who always lingers. Well, sometimes. Other times you were afraid of getting caught for sneaking out, so you were in and out.”

Jinx hugs you this time, burying her face in your chest.

“You’re a good person, don’t ever forget that,” Jinx discloses, tightening her grip.

“Okay, hate to let you go, but I do need to check in on the food and tea.” Jinx holds on as you struggle your way to the kitchen, making sure the food didn’t burn during the moment between the two of you. Luckily, everything was ready, and in about five minutes, dinner had been served for you both. Jinx’s tea helped her greatly, calming her down. The sense of calmness in her eyes brought relief to yours, as you were glad to know that Jinx’s head would slow down for a bit. She was also happy to eat the meal you cooked, which, per your prediction, was the first proper meal she had had in a very long time. After your scrumptious meal, you both prepared for bed. However, there was one small kink in the works of your plan to take care of Jinx; there was only one bed.

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” you assured, “I can sleep on the floor.”

“Are you sure? I can sleep there too,” Jinx replied. You put your foot down though, insisting that she needed a proper sleep. It truly didn’t worry you at all. You began to lay down on the ground, preparing for your sleep. Just as you were about to close your eyes, you heard Jinx’s voice from the corner.

“Could you maybe sleep in the bed with me?”

“Yeah, is everything okay?”

“I just, haven’t slept in a new place that wasn’t where I was holed up in for a long time. Plus, you’re comforting to be around.” You get up, pillows and blankets in your arms, and settle into the bed with Jinx. She clutches onto your waist, her legs wrapping around yours. It takes every fiber in you to not turn around and spoon Jinx right there and then. However, your bountiful dinner, Jinx’s tea, and the calming atmosphere put both of you right to sleep.

so. i originally was going to make this some sort of a love story, but i felt like i couldn't considering jinx's mental state in this fic. shall i draft a part 2/ time jump where they get together?

taglist: @ananas26t @stupendousbananasharkcop @sarcasm-is-my-form-of-attack @t-wylia @emiliaisdead @ihatethis222 @west-c0ast-00 @shootingc @iliterallyhavenoideawhattosay @sweetstarfalls @klerns-birdie

(btw, this is the largest taglist i've had per explicit requests. thank yall so much for supporting <3)

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water-lemon-alex · 3 days ago

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the night before the finale.

a pre-s1e17 oneshot revolving around the season one finalists.

you have reached the end of the current chapter, but what about the one before it? what happened on the night before one of them went home a millionaire?

the penultimate episode of the first season has just finished airing, and the sun begun to set.

the show once had sixteen contestants fighting for the million-dollar prize, and each night they sleep, there were one (or two) less contestants by their side.

now, there were only two. two contestants.

one who only won a few couple challenges to get this far into the game, and another who kept her true persona a secret just for people to like her more.

both of them have just lost their closest allies in the competition. now, they’re on their own.

together.

the two finalists sat atop a hill, the one where all of them used to rest on. the sun is no longer visible from the sky— only the light of the moon reflected from it. the sky became dark, with a million tiny white diamonds in the sky.

the lettuce-filled “friend” sneakily tapped the glass of her orange competitor.

“hey! hey, oj!”

but the orange beverage didn’t respond. he was sulking over the loss of his best friend, who he thought was going to make the finals with him. now, he’s stuck with some half-witted mexican food.

then he finally takes a deep breath, and slowly turns to her with a sad look on his face.

“not now, taco. can’t you see i’m disappointed? i thought that i could make it with him to the finals! now i’m stuck with you…”

she clears her throat to get in character with her false persona.

“well— i lost my best friend, too! i never thought he would get voted off just when we’re this close to winning!”

“so he voted out him just so that you could advance…”

this argument is unnecessary. you can’t change something that already happened.

“…ugh, forget it. the finale’s tomorrow, and i need to get enough sleep to prepare for the final challenge.”

but both of them knew he wasn’t gonna sleep anytime soon. not with all the pressure from the game. it’s the finale, after all.

“…let me guess, you can’t sleep too.”

she nodded.

the hard-shelled contestant couldn’t sleep at all. she was still beaming with energy! (on the outside.) due to her high stamina, her plan was to tire him out before the finale.

“come on, we never got a chance to hang out at all! the moon’s so pretty tonight! let’s do something fun to tire ourselves out!”

…okay, this was supposed to be a game strategy, but in all sincerity, she actually does want to spend time with him, even just one time. as a treat.

this might be the first and last chance she’ll ever get. win or lose, she might never get to hang out with him again.

but whatever, it’s not like she became fond of anyone in the game at all or anything.

“what do you suggest we should do?”

“well, i dunno. have a little walk while lookin’ at the stars? we never really got to. because of the contest!”

he let out a deep sigh.

“…well, okay. maybe just once.”

the two started going down the hill to the direction of the very sixty-foot cliff where they once stood two years ago, when the show first aired.

taco started sprinting to the cliff, so much that oj couldn’t keep up without losing his balance and his juice in the process.

“h-hey! wait up! i thought we were going for a walk!”

“well, not anymooore-!”

she let out a hysterical laugh.

they finally stopped running when they finally reached the end of the cliff.

“ahaha… we’re heeeere-!”

with her left foot, she points at a certain something from the cliff. he thought she was gonna push him off.

“are you crazy!? are you going to push me off the cliff!?”

“not at all-! just look over there!”

all of those obstacles beyond the cliff weren’t even there before. looks like the host is preparing something big for the final contest.

“oooooh, that looks like the final challenge! so cool!”

“it looks like it’s still a work in progress.”

“well, fugget about it! let’s dance!”

“dance? seriously? with the only one left who’s standing in the way between you and the million? ha! let’s be honest right now. you don’t even have arms!”

“um, yeah i do!”

she unsheathes the arms she hid in her shell for so long, with the exception of a few instances where she actually used them.

“happy now?”

“you hid these the entire time!? you could’ve used these to your advantage!”

“oh, don’t worry! i won’t try to use them in the finale! i’ll try to go easy on you, because we both know i’m gonna win! easy!”

the orange glass teases back.

“haha, oh no, you’re not! because the million belongs to me!”

after a little while, she starts to reach her hand onto his.

“so? let’s go?”

“y-yeah! shall we?”

the energetic one got ahead of herself and unknowingly dragged their feet across the ground.

they turn, and they may tumble, but they both seem to enjoy themselves.

they’ll be rivals tomorrow, sure. but they are fellow competitors still in the running tonight. the only ones left, at that.

even if this bond will come to an end once all of this is over, even if the prize can’t go to the both of them,

they’ll enjoy the little time that they’ve had.

and as promised, they danced until they could barely catch their breath. (they didn’t exactly “dance”. none of them know how to dance! all they did was spin around in circles, hand in hand.)

now, they sat on the exact same spot as before. on the top of the hill.

“wow, that was…”

“crazy?”

“yeah, crazy! did you decide to do all this just to make me feel better after i lost paper?”

“well, i did this to make myself better after losing pickle! hahaha…”

“i guess we aren’t really so different. even if you’re kinda dumb sometimes, you did help me a few times with your lemons.”

“and you helped me win the boxing contest because of how fragile you are!”

“uh, correction! i didn’t help you win, i was just completely defenseless from those darn lemons…”

they begin to tease at each other again.

“i’m still riiiight-!”

“no, you’re nooot-!”

both of them let out some chuckles once again. their eyes are becoming heavy, and they have a big day tomorrow.

“well, good night, taco! i’m going to beat you tomorrow!”

“no! i’m gonna win! hahaha!”

the glass of juice has fallen fast asleep. sleeping upright. i guess that’s just how he sleeps just so that his juice wouldn’t spill all over the place.

before she closed her eyes, she hides her arms within her shell once more, gazed upon his resting face, and let out her true smile. a rather menacing smile, indeed— but her feelings were more… sincere.

for the first and the last time, she whispered,

“good night, oj.”

#waterlemon’s gallery #lem’s fics #inanimate insanity #fanfic #ii oj #oj ii #ii taco #taco ii #english breakfast #< implied if you ever so wish #i did this instead of working on the q&a and the artwork #and its almost 1am lmao #first time actually uploading a fanfic! we did it! hooray!

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kouudi · 12 hours ago

Text

ᡣ𐭩 every path leads back to you — isagi yoichi

warnings: reader has an ex fiancé (not isagi), reader has commitment issues, description heavy, mentions of drinking, kind of proof read but not really, reader feels very guilty

a/n: i'm sorry this took so long ;-; life has been crazy and my job's been requiring me to come in more. turns out i work on christmas eve and day so that's fun i guess? happy late thanksgiving i'm thankful for all of you + my moots :D not sure when i'll be able to post again but i'll try to keep y'all updated and not disappear. also yes this was teased as a reo fic but ignore that...

The air in your apartment smelled like stale beer. The low hum of the refrigerator filled the silence in the background, only broken by the occasional wail of a distant siren outside. You’re perched at the edge of the couch, staring at the scattered beer cans on the floor as if they hold the answer to a question the universe is too afraid to ask.

You’re not even sure how the night started. Bachira called you, telling you that the team was home for a break. You rejected his invitation to go out for drinks, preferring instead to settle in at home with your own packs of beer.

Maybe Isagi called you, or maybe you texted him first—something vague after a few drinks, an invitation he somehow read between the lines. Now, hours later, he’s sitting in front of your couch, back against the edge, a comfortable distance away from you.

You think it should feel strange, having him here like this, so casually. Isagi Yoichi, with his perfect life and effortless charm, is a far cry from the mess you’ve become over the years of your friendship with him. Despite the differences, you feel a strange sense of comfort in his presence, as if for tonight, your loneliness isn’t yours to bear alone.

He’s quiet now, watching you with an expression that’s hard for you to read, his sharp eyes flickering all over your apartment as if they can’t settle on one thing for long. You take a swig from your beer, the bitterness burning your throat, and glance at him. You feel exposed, as if he’s peeling back the layers of whatever shield you’ve managed to build.

It’s that specific look that pulls the words from your tongue before you even realize it.

“Did you know I was supposed to get married last year?” The bitterness and disbelief are laced in your voice.

Isagi arches a brow at your sudden confession, his expression unreadable. The clutter of empty beer cans scattered around the floor brings up the thought of why he chose to end the night at your place, instead of suggesting his own for a late-night drinking session.

His gaze lingers on you, sharp and searching. “No, I didn’t. You’ve never mentioned it,” he says finally, his tone careful and neutral. You wonder if he’s doing it on purpose. “Are you joking?” he asks, his voice calm and even, his expression still unreadable. You force out a dry laugh.

“Yeah, well. There’s a lot I don’t mention,” you snort, lifting the beer can to your mouth. The bitterness in your tone stings your own ears. That wasn’t something you meant to blurt out. The weight of your guilt feels heavier than usual tonight, with Isagi here. His presence brings forth that strange sense of comfort, though it’s almost aggravating to you.

“Why bring it up now?” he asks, leaning back against the couch, still keeping his eyes focused on you. His voice is calm, but there’s a flicker of something beneath the surface—curiosity, or maybe even concern.

You shrug and stare down at the flat liquid in your can. “It’s been on my mind,” you mutter, though it’s only half the truth. It’s not just the memory of what could’ve been. It’s him—sitting here, looking too calm, too collected, as if your mess is just another puzzle for him to figure out.

You take another sip of your beer, the bitter taste doing little to ground you. Isagi’s gaze doesn’t waver, and you can feel the unspoken questions hanging in the air between you. Still, he doesn’t push, but his presence alone is almost like a small nudge, daring you to open up, to say more, to peel back a layer of your life that you’ve hidden from him for so long.

For a moment, you consider brushing it off with a dumb joke or changing the subject completely. But the quiet intensity in his eyes makes it impossible. Instead, you let the silence stretch, the weight of it pressing down until the emotions start to seep in—uninvited and vivid.

The memory floods back to you—the rush of slipping out the back of the reception hall, still in your wedding dress, makeup half-done and beginning to smudge. You remember the moment of freedom amidst the chaos, but the weight of the man you left behind quickly pulls you back.

“I left him at the altar,” you quietly confess, the words heavy on your tongue. The thought of your fiancé waiting for you at the end of the aisle, surrounded by friends and family, lingers in your mind like a shadow.

You never thought you’d be the type of person to run from their own wedding. You and your ex-fiancé had spent the year preparing to make that day meticulously perfect—the music, flowers, decorations, and even the vows that you spent countless sleepless nights perfecting. From everyone else’s perspective, the day was out of a fairytale. But to you, you didn’t belong in that story.

Your ex-fiancé was everything people thought you should want: a kind and successful man. You admit that it was everything you did want at the time. He was a respectable man. But, over time, the relationship became a suffocating routine, rather than one built on genuine love.

Every day that passed, and the wedding date drew closer, you felt more trapped. “It’s just cold feet,” you’d tell yourself over and over again. “Everyone feels this way before committing to forever.”

You remember the morning of your wedding, staring at your own reflection in the mirror, veil perched upon your head, feeling like an imposter. You remember the feeling inside you suddenly snap. You couldn’t do it. You couldn’t marry this man. You couldn’t spend the rest of your life pretending to be someone you weren’t.

You can’t fake a thought—that was something you realized the day you met the man sitting beside you. In the last few months of your previous relationship, you started to notice things. It took you longer than usual to answer your phone, you never genuinely smiled anymore, and you only did activities that he suggested because you’d convinced yourself you didn’t know what you wanted to do. No matter how much you pretended not to notice the change in yourself, you did. You noticed it all.

It wasn’t until you and Isagi began crossing the lines between friendship and something deeper a few months ago that you realized what you had been missing. Isagi had a way of filling the empty spaces in your life—spaces you hadn’t even known existed. His presence was effortless yet inescapably consuming. And yet, as much as you knew you should surrender, a small voice kept reminding you of everything you had left behind: the stability, the comfort, the certainty. Isagi was none of those things, and perhaps that’s what drew you to him the most.

He was a force of nature, always moving, always shifting, while you were stuck in place, bound to the limit of the city you were in, caught between the pull of your past and the push toward something unfamiliar. You did try to fight it at first—tried to keep a distance, to protect whatever small sense of self that you still desperately clung to. But every time he smiled, every time he spoke, it was as if your world had narrowed to only show him. And that was terrifying.

You were stuck between staying with what you knew about yourself at age twenty-four or venturing out into the world. You didn’t want to stay stagnant, frozen in a life you felt was no longer yours. But with Isagi, there was no promise of tomorrow. There was no guarantee that things would stay the same. And maybe that was the most frightening thing. You could fall, and he wouldn’t catch you. Or maybe he would, but only for a little while.

A hand on your shoulder pulled you from your thoughts. Isagi’s expression had shifted, his usual calm replaced by something softer, tinged with sadness. His eyes met yours, but there was a distant heaviness in them, as if he were carrying a weight you couldn’t see. You weren’t sure when he got up to sit beside you.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The silence stretched between you, thick and uncomfortable. You could feel the shift in the air, like something unspoken had settled there, pressing down on the two of you.

Isagi opened his mouth as if he was going to say something, but he hesitated. His brow furrowed slightly, and he seemed to be grappling with his words, as though he knew what he wanted to say wasn’t going to come out right. When he spoke, his voice was quieter than before, softer than his usual tone of confidence.

“I knew you were getting married. Bachira told me,” he confessed, his eyes flickering down for a moment before meeting yours again. “I didn’t want to make things... harder for you, so I pretended not to know.”

There it was—the guilt in his voice. You’d expected it, but hearing it now hit you harder than you thought it would. Isagi, who always seemed so composed, so untouchable, was suddenly vulnerable in a way you weren’t sure how to handle.

“I knew you would’ve told me if you wanted me to know.”

You swallowed, unsure of what to say, the weight of his words settling in. You weren’t prepared for this—this side of him. But before you could second-guess yourself, the words came out anyway. “I didn’t want you to know,” you said, your voice quieter now. His eyes softened, and you could see the faint shadow of regret in them. “You were always so busy, always out of the country… I just wanted to move on.” You paused, feeling the heaviness of it all. “We’ve been in this strange place for months now, but honestly, I’ve been here even longer.”

Isagi’s gaze intensified, a flicker of concern crossing his face. “What are you trying to say?”

You turned your head away, suddenly embarrassed to meet his eyes. “Isagi,” you whispered, the confession slipping out before you could stop it, “I’ve liked you for a long time now.”

The silence that followed was thick and suffocating, the kind that made you want to sink into the couch and disappear. You felt exposed, as though everything that protected you had been stripped away. But Isagi didn’t say anything, not at first. His eyes never left yours, and his silence—rather than pushing you away—seemed to be drawing you in further.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he exhaled slowly, his breath shaky. “I don’t know what to say to that,” he admitted, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it. “You’ve always been so distant. I didn’t think I stood a chance.”

The words hit you in your gut. Isagi, a man who always seemed composed and confident, had been uncertain the entire time? The realization made you feel both relieved and guilty—you had been blind to everything for longer than you thought.

“I didn’t mean to push you away,” you said quietly, your throat tightening. “I thought that if I just kept going, kept pretending, it would get easier. But it never did.” You paused, your heart racing. “And now… I don’t know how to fix it.”

Isagi’s expression softened again, the sharp edges of his usual demeanor fading into something gentler. He leaned forward, his voice steady but full of something deeper. “You don’t have to fix it. You just have to tell me what you want. I’m right here. I’ve always been here, but you’ve got to let me in, too.”

His hand finds its way to your cheek, his thumb gently caressing your lips. “We can be a team, but only if you’re comfortable being one together.”

You lean into his touch, as if it were muscle memory. The warmth of his hand on your skin, his thumb pressing gently on your lips—everything about this moment feels like something you should’ve known before, something that was always there, just out of reach. For a split second, you let yourself believe that it’s real, that it’s something you deserve.

But then, as quickly as you let yourself forget, the weight of everything you’ve kept buried presses down on your heart again. The guilt. The confusion. The silence between you, stretched thin over the last few months as you both tread the line between friendship and something more. You pull back slightly, enough to break the contact between you, but not enough to distance yourself completely. You feel colder without the warmth of his hand on your face.

“I don’t know if I can do this,” you say, the words escaping before you can stop them. You feel the uncertainty creeping back in.

Isagi doesn’t pull away. He doesn’t let the space between you grow too wide. His eyes are softer now, though you can still see the same intensity in them. He studies your face for a moment, but it feels like he’s seeing past you, into the deeper parts of you, weighing your words carefully. Then, in a voice as low as a whisper:

“No rush. We take things slow, one step at a time.”

The way he says it—the calm certainty—makes your heart race. It’s as if he’s offering a lifeline out of the mess you’ve made of your life. And for the first time in a long time, you start to believe that maybe, just maybe, things could be different.

You meet his gaze, your breath catching in your chest. “Are you sure?” you ask, the vulnerability in your voice tightening your throat.

Isagi doesn’t hesitate. “I’m sure.”

And for the first time, you believe him.

written by koudi

tags: @sarahforever

#꩜.ᐟ koudi writes #blue lock x reader #blue lock #isagi yoichi x reader #isagi yoichi x you #blue lock x you #isagi x reader #bllk x reader

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itsonlyjoseph · 19 hours ago

Text

The First Time You Met | Joseph Quinn x Reader

synopsis: short one-shot of meeting Joe at the pub

warnings: None, English jargon

word count: 1.5k

You were sat at your desk working quietly when your co worker knocked on the wood as if it was a door, getting your attention easily.

“What are you doing tonight?” She asked you.

“Uh, nothing I guess. Go home, open a bottle of wine and watch the telly til I fall asleep.” You smiled up at her, as if that was the high life.

“Oh come on, it’s Friday. Come out for once.” She practically pleaded with you.

“I don’t know. I’d have to get home and change and then come back in. Where do you even want to go?”

“You don’t have to go crazy, we’re only gonna’ be at the Churchill.”

You thought for moment. You hadn’t been out with your friends in a while and you definitely needed a break.

Your vibrator needed a break.

The Churchill Arms was a lowkey pub that didn’t require you to dress up too much. In fact, you’d look a bit silly if you did.

“I guess I can come.” You mumbled.

Eleanor, your co worker, squealed at your agreement and gave you a tight hug around the shoulders.

“Oh, my god, yes! This is gonna’ be so much fun. We haven’t seen you out in actual months.”

“I’m sure it hasn’t been that long.”

“It has.”

You narrowed your eyes up at her in a mock offence.

“We’re heading over right after work so make sure you’re ready.”

“Okay…” you mumbled as she walked off.

You liked your friends and you liked going out, but you also like going home, putting on your big socks and getting under a fuzzy blanket with the fireplace going.

You weren’t a loner or anything, you were just comfortable being single and having no responsibilities other than yourself.

You’d made it this far alone and you were proud of yourself. It felt good to do whatever you wanted and eat whatever you wanted for tea and decorate your house however you wanted.

Something you never admitted, however, is sometimes on very rare occasions, you did feel a bit bored or lonely when you had no one to talk to about your day or your nightmares or the latest film you just watched.

Soon, five o’clock rolled around and you packed up your things and haphazardly shoved them into your purse, walking down to the lobby to meet the others. You were wearing your typical work clothes. Casual, black knitted jumper and brown plaid trousers with some maroon Mary Jane ballet flats that cost more than you should’ve paid.

Luckily for you, your place of work was very casual and easy going but “casual and easy going” in London probably meant something different to the rest of the world.

The pub was already relatively busy considering it was a Friday night but not so busy that it was practically a nightclub. This is how you liked it.

You got a table close to the back and sat as one of your other co workers went to the bar to get the first round. The atmosphere was easy going and after a short while, you felt yourself actually really having fun. The conversation flowed easily. You’d poked fun at your bosses and horrible clients, talked about upcoming projects, talked about guys (much to the dismay of the lone male co worker amongst the group), and everything in between.

After the third round of lager was brought back to the table, Eleanor leaned over to speak quietly to you.

“I don’t want to alarm you but there’s a really cute guy looking at you.” She giggled.

You rolled your eyes and paid no mind to her. Like you said before, you were quite content being a singleton.

“No really, I think you should probably chat to this one.”

You decided to entertain her and turned your head to this alleged man checking you out.

You made eye contact and felt your breath get sucked out of your lungs.

That’s fucking Joseph Quinn, you thought.

You turned back to Eleanor with a somewhat dumbfounded look on your face to see her clearly excited one.

“I doubt he is looking at me of all people.” You said, taking a large gulp of your pint.

“Dude, he’s not stopped looking at you. Even when you went up to the bar.”

“Surely not.” You were suddenly ten times more shy than before.

“Surely yes, go talk to him!” Eleanor urged. The rest of the group was completely oblivious to your conversation, too engrossed in their own. Not that you minded.

“I can’t just go talk to the Joseph Quinn you idiot. I’ll choke and trip and just make a fool of myself in someway.”

“No you won’t. You’re always so hard on yourself.”

You were now very aware of the celebrity and it was making you feel small… and hot.

“Okay I have an idea. Take a deep breath, glance over and smile and then grab your coat and go for a fag. See if he follows.”

“This is so stupid.” You said, taking a deep breath. Obviously you knew who Joseph Quinn was. You never really gave it much thought but definitely thought he was attractive, just like every one else.

“Just do it!”

“Fine!” You gritted through closed teeth.

You took the last gulp of lager and grabbed your coat, walking towards the beer garden, but not before shooting him your best smile you could muster up.

Your eyes connected for a brief moment and you felt your spine tingle.

The air outside was chillier than when you’d arrived at 6pm.

You leaned against the brick wall and pulled out a cigarette and lighter. Even though Eleanor had practically kicked you outside, you would’ve stepped out for a smoke at one point or another.

You were outside for about two minutes alone with the other drunks when the back door opened and out stepped Joseph. You could tell it was him even through your peripheral. He just had aura about him.

Slowly walking over to you, he pulled out his own smoke to pop between his lips.

“Hi.” He said with a sweet, bashful look.

“Hey.” You smiled shyly.

“Do you mind if I pinch your lighter?”

You didn’t say anything, just shyly getting your zippo out of your pocket and flicking it open, igniting the end of his cigarette and ignoring the thumping in your chest.

“Thanks.” He said, moving his head back slightly and taking a long draw.

There was short silence between the two of you until he spoke up again.

“I’m Joe, by the way.” You smiled down at you.

Wow, he was incredibly attractive this close.

“I’m Y/N.”

“Y/N.” He repeated, not breaking eye contact. “What do you do, Y/N?”

“I work in television, actually.”

“Oh really? That’s really cool. So do I.” He seemed rather excited.

“Yeah, I know.” You giggled.

“Yeah, I figured you probably did. I guess anonymity isn’t really an option for me anymore.” Joe seemed rather tense now. Perhaps he was hoping you didn’t know who he was and he’d have a real conversation for once.

“Probably not. But hey, it’s not like I’ve never been around a famous person before. I do work in television after all.” You reassured.

“So what exactly do you do in television.” He asked, taking a drag of his cigarette.

“I’m a production manager.”

“Oh wow, what have you worked on?” Joe asked you, gazing down at you.

“Uh, I worked on Fleabag, Broadchurch, a show called Sherwood. Couple things like that.” You began to get shy again. Here you were, telling a famous actor about your boring job, probably the pants back on him.

“What do you have to do exactly when you work on a show?”

“Well, I basically organise location, actors, crew, funding, marketing, all that sort of stuff…” you began to explain and Joseph looked actually genuinely interested. This never usually happened. Whenever your friends dragged you out and you began chatting to a guy, he always seemed so bored when you spoke about your job.

Not Joe, though. He was listening intently and asking actual questions and sometime during the time you’d been speaking, you both stubbed out your cigarettes and he’d stepped closer to you.

You only realised how long you’d been talking when Eleanor popped her head out to tell you they were leaving now.

“Oh, uh yeah. I’ll be right there.” You said to her before turning back to Joe.

“Sorry, I didn’t realise how late it had gotten.” You smiled.

“Yeah, neither.” He smiled shyly, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I actually had a really good time talking to you, though.” You said sincerely.

“Yeah, me too.” He smiled back.

There was a beat silence as the two of you just looked at each other. You gave him one last smile and turned to walk back inside to your friends, silently praying that he’d ask for your number or offer to walk you home or at least something.

You’d almost made it to the door when you heard Joe swiftly turn on his heal and call out to you.

“Can I have your number?” He asked, rather frantically, like he’d almost missed his shot.

You turned back to him with a small, shy smile.

“Yeah.” You giggled. “Okay.”

#joe quinn #joseph quinn rpf #joseph quinn #Joseph Quinn x reader #Joseph Quinn fluff #Joseph Quinn imagine #Joseph Quinn one shot #Joe Quinn rpf

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seenoversundown · 3 days ago

Text

For Death Or Glory : Epilogue

Jake Kiszka x Charlotte (Fem OC)

Warnings: 18+ Smut (you know the drill) Fluff, Romantic Themes, Drinking / Alcohol (once more- it’s a bar) Pining, Harmless Bullying, Swearing, Wholesome Family Fun (which is crazy to say considering what’s coming next)

Smut Warnings: Kissing, Oral Sex, Hands going places, Penetrative Sex | they’re both switches - do with that what you will

Word Count: 10.6k

Summary: It’s the bar’s second anniversary and a certain couple’s first.

Author's Note: I bet you thought we were done here 😉 You already know that I couldn’t let this end that easily! I knew from the start that I would have an epilogue for you, but as I was working on it, I had a thought— luckily for you.. I wrote it in. If you notice the word count, this is astronomically long compared to the rest of the story; I decided to add basically a second chapter once I had the idea. (If you need to pause, there’s a definitive break that you could absolutely stop at! I’ll add a couple ***’s so you know when)

Consider the second half like a bonus chapter if you will 🥰

Anyway this is getting long, I love this story, these two, and you guys for loving them with me. I hope you giggle and kick your feet over this monster of a chapter 🖤 this is definitely not the last you’ll be seeing of these two, but for now, let’s just enjoy this together 🥹

Forever - Noah Kahan "I won’t be alone for the rest of my life, I’ll build a boat for when the river gets high."

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One year later..

“That’s okay; just drive safe, honey.”

I tucked my phone back into my pocket, grabbed a few stray glasses, and rounded the corner behind the bar. Thankful that the bar isn’t busy at the moment, even though I know we’re mere seconds away from the chaos that’ll ensue.

Deciding to keep the tradition, the bar is only open until eleven tonight because of the holiday. All of our regulars will still make it a point to stop by tonight since it’s the floating anniversary of the official opening. I know there’s an actual date that we opened, but letting it change with the holiday every year is more fun to me.

It’s nice getting to spend a few hours just working with Josh while everyone else is wrapping up work or getting ready for tomorrow. It is funnier that they’ll all show up tonight, even though we’re about to spend the next two days together.

“What happened?” Josh asks, leaning against the bar.

I look over at him as I’m setting all the glasses into the dirty bin, telling him, “Oh, she’s fine,” and letting out a small laugh. “She hit traffic, but she’s almost here– just feels bad she’s ‘late.’ You know how Char is.”

He chuckles to himself, “Oh, that silly girl must have forgotten that everybody and their cousin is driving today.”

“I told her that I didn’t care when she got here anyway,” I tell him, giggling at the thought of her stressing over the time. “We have the whole weekend together; I’m not going to complain that she’s twenty minutes behind.”

Josh just smiles back at me for a second before breathing out, “It’s sweet that she still wants to soak up all the time she can with you, though.”

“I hit the jackpot with her for sure,” I let out quietly, checking the fridges to make sure everything was good. “Are you good for a minute? I just need to answer a few emails real quick.”

He shoos me away to my office, where I’ve sat to do a few admin things before it gets busy or Charlotte shows up. I mindlessly read through a few emails that can wait until after the holiday weekend but then start writing back to the more important ones. I know that I could realistically do these after she’s here but the last thing I ever want to do is be this level of distracted from her. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in the past year, it’s that I love my job, but I love her more.

I fell in love with Charlotte within three weeks, and she’s only proven to me that it was the greatest thing I could have let myself do. Despite the fact that we don’t live very close to each other, the days we aren’t physically together fly by. It still lets her have some independence, even though I would have asked her to move in the day we started dating. I’m so used to the chaos that I don’t think she could ever bother me.

Not that I have the most experience with relationships, but I would say that she is probably the most incredible girlfriend that exists. I still feel like I’m dreaming most days; the only downside is when she’s upset, and I can’t get to her fast enough. Not exactly proud of the few times that I’ve almost left the bar because she sounded a little too sad saying she missed me on the phone.

“Hi baby,” Char’s voice rings through my office.

“There she is,” slips out as I whip my head over to her. Quickly standing up, reaching for her hands as I got closer, I said, “I missed you.”

“I swear nobody knows how to drive today,” she tells me in between kisses. “Literally, everybody just kept slowing down even though nothing was happening!”

Chuckling at her, it’s precious when she’s worked up like this. Kissing her forehead gently before telling her, “Breathe honey, it’s over. You made it.”

“I know– you’re right,” She breathes out before quietly asking, “You’re sure your parents don’t mind me being here for Thanksgiving?”

“I think my mom would explode if you didn’t,” I told her. “Plus, I wouldn’t want you to spend the weekend alone.”

“I still don’t know what possessed my parents to plan a vacation during the holidays, but” she rolls her eyes with a laugh but squeezes my hands when she tells me, “I’m much happier to spend them with you.”

Kissing her a few more times before saying, “I’m just excited to have you here all weekend.”

Pulling her out into the bar, sitting in the booth that the rest of the family will stake claim over later. She sat across from me, telling me about her day since we were both fairly busy and hadn’t gotten to talk much throughout the day.

“Oh!” She pipes up. “I found this, and I thought you might enjoy it.” She hands me a folder with random paperwork, and I just look at her with my eyebrow raised. She giggles quietly, “Look at the corners, babe.”

I start reading all her little notes. This is what she was doing the whole time. Every page with the margins filled with little intrusive thoughts she must have been having; ‘hands, hands, hands,’ ‘pretty mouth,’ ‘he’s so cute I could cry.’ Random hearts surrounded some of them, with my name written out in cursive every few pages, like a girl in elementary school.

Thinking of all the times I would glance over at her, she would just be scribbling things down with a little smirk on her face. Or the way she would tuck pages away when she saw me coming over.

My heart swelled, seeing that she had been secretly feeling the same way. It always felt like there was something more than ‘friends with benefits,’ but I was so afraid to get my hopes up. I chuckle to myself, breathing out, “I love you so much.”

Met with silence– we haven’t actually said that to each other yet. Not that I didn’t want to, but we both just nervously danced around it. My eyes darted up to her, realizing what I said.

Her eyes are wide, “.. Jake.” I close the folder and set it in front of us. Shit. You’ve made it a whole year without letting it slip; that’s impressive enough, right?

“Char,” I start; it probably is about time I finally told her. “It sounds insane, but I’ve basically loved you since the day you walked in.”

She slowly blinked at me, “What do you mean? How?”

It truly feels like I have to just come clean with it at this point, “I couldn’t stop thinking about you after you left that day; something about you just stuck with me.”

“I felt like I ruined your whole day. You definitely seemed like you were panicking?”

“Oh, I was,” I laugh. “But I thought about you every day until you came back.”

“But—” she hesitates, looking down at the table for a second. “I cried in front of you, literally the second time we actually saw each other.”

I nod at her, “Oh, I know.”

“And I lied to you..”

“Hun,” I start, grabbing her hand. “I would do it all over again a million times if it meant I got you at the end of it.”

She just stares at me, and I watch her eyes as tears creep in. She looks up, trying to fight the inevitable.

I reach up, knocking the little tears off her cheeks like always, before telling her, “You don’t have to say it back. Don’t feel like you have to. I’ll gladly wait until–”

She cuts me off with a quiet, “I love you.”

The sound of it practically knocks the wind out of me; I knew from the beginning that she would probably take a while to say it in general or even just say it back because she was so hesitant about her feelings. I never wanted to pressure her into it, even though a year ago, with us standing out in the snow, I knew I was in love with her.

I slide out of my seat, take two steps to be next to her, squat down, and grab both of her hands.

“Can I say something to you? I don’t expect anything from you after,” I ask, looking up at her.

“Of course.”

I look at her for a split second before I finally let it out, “I’m so, so in love with you, Charlotte. I’ve been waiting for you to feel comfortable saying it because I never want to overwhelm you or push you away. I can’t imagine life without you at this point; you mean everything to me, honey.”

Her eyes are so soft, and her lip quivers a little as she looks back at me. She whispers, “You’re gonna make me cry.” She leans down to me, leaving a few gentle kisses on my lips.

“And you are far more than I could have ever dreamt of,” She says with a little sniff as she fights back the tears. “I’ve never known a love like yours. Some days I still don’t believe you’re real and that I’m lucky enough that you keep me around even when I’m such a pain in your ass.”

“You’re my favorite pain in the ass, though,” I tell her, kissing her knuckles gently. My heart is pounding as she’s telling me the sweetest things; it feels unbelievable that she feels the same way.

Her little giggle blesses my ears before she keeps going, her voice still breaking as she tells me, “I hate that you had to be let down so many times, but I’m so glad that every girl fumbled you, so now, I get you to myself.”

“I’ll be yours for as long as you’ll keep me,” I whisper to her, watching as her chin quivers. She let out a small ‘oh’ as her hand flew up to cover her mouth. Rubbing her legs for a second until she pulls me into a hug.

I kiss the side of her head before mumbling, “Happy anniversary, hun.” Leaning back and carefully wiping the tears from under her eyes, trying not to mess up her makeup. Quietly cooing, “Oh, my beautiful girl.”

“Baby, shhhh,” she laughs, looking up to try and avoid more tears.

I chuckle to myself, letting out, “Oh, I’m sorry. I meant, my absolute knockout—“

Her laugh cuts me off, which I would let happen any day—anything to see her smile.

I feel a tap on my back, bringing me back to real life. I turned, and honestly, I should have known.

“Hi, sweetheart,” my mom’s voice rings through the bar. Josh got it from somewhere. Her arms wrapped me in a hug, rocking me back and forth.

“I’m excited to see you too,” I laugh. She pulls back, brushing the hair out of my face like she always does, just staring at me for a second.

Her eyes soften as we look at each other; she looks like she wants to say something but holds it back. That’s weird. Gently moving me to the side, her excited voice is back, “Don’t think I didn’t see you!” Charlotte quickly stands up, also getting pulled into a hug.

“Mmmm, my other sweetheart,” she says, Char’s giggling as she gets the same treatment from my mom. “I missed you two.”

My parents immediately loved her when they met. Whether it was because they were so excited that I finally found someone or because Char is an incredible girl, who knows? Mom was especially over the moon about her when she discovered that they both enjoy baking and reading.

I was nervous at the idea of them meeting her, especially when we had barely even figured out what we were doing. But, the moment we walked into the house where they were staying, it went away. We took turns grabbing each other's hands for comfort because it was all still so fresh. It probably seems wild to introduce someone to your parents two days into the relationship, but I’ve never been so sure about someone.

My dad’s arm slides around my shoulders, pulling me into him for a second.

“Hey bud,” his voice is way calmer. “I see you’ve lost them.” He chuckles. I glance over as the two of them are fully in conversation, to the point that my mom has stolen my seat.

“Looks that way, huh?” I laugh, hugging him back. Nodding towards the bar, I ask, “Want a drink?”

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My dad kept us entertained for a bit as he sipped his drink, telling us about the trip to get here. They seem to have the worst luck with flying. I take the chance to slip out from behind the bar, and I sneak off into my office, pulling out my phone, but I quickly get distracted when I hear my mom’s voice.

“How are you doing sweets?”

I look over at her; she’s leaning against the door frame, her eyebrows raised. I tell her, “Curious about what you didn’t say to me earlier if we’re being honest.”

“You saw that, huh?” She scrunches her nose at me. I move closer to her so she won’t have to be loud. Her hand taps my chest a couple of times, letting out, “I forget how observant you are.”

“Mhm,” I hum back. “So, spill. What is it?”

She lets out a little sigh, “I’m not gonna be able to get through this.” Her eyes welled up almost instantly, “Being in love looks good on you, Sweetheart.”

“Oh?”

She grabs one of my hands and tells me, “I can just see how happy you are when you’re with her.” A tear sneaks out as she looks at me. “I’m just so glad you found someone who loves you the way you deserve.”

Squeezing my hand a few times, “You’ve always been the sweetest of the three of you.” She pauses to look up, trying to stop the tears. “I knew how badly you just wanted to find someone.”

“Mom,” I whisper, wiping her face off gently.

“I'm sorry—I'm just so proud of you. Between the bar and taking care of her, I just feel so lucky to watch the young man that you’ve become.”

My arms wrap around her, rubbing her back a little before mumbling, “Love you.”

“Love you, too.” She whispers before asking, “Why are you hiding in here?”

I lean back, smiling as I tell her, “Wanted to see if something got delivered.”

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As I’m helping run some drinks to people for Josh, I hear Against The Wind by Bob Seger playing throughout the bar. Dropping the fresh drinks off to the table, I turn around to see one of Chuck’s friends about to sit at the bar with an empty seat next to him. He must be waiting for him.

He’s an older gentleman; he definitely looks like he would have been a sailor of sorts. The idea hits me— where is my girlfriend? I think to myself, chuckling at what’s going to happen.

“Char- honey,” I yell to her as I walk over to the table; she’s sitting with Quinn, Willa, and Sam- the usual, but Mom is with them tonight.

Her eyes light up as I get closer, looking up at me, oh god, I’m such an ass. She lets out a quiet “Hi.”

Sliding into the booth next to her, my arm pulling her close to me. I point to the man, whispering to her, “Remember how I told you about the Old Port Pirate?”

“Shut up,” her hand flew up to cover her mouth. “Babe, you actually weren’t lying?”

I just shake my head, “Do you hear what’s playing right now?”

Looking at me with wide eyes, her jaw drops when she realizes, “Oh my god, it’s Bob.”

She’s so cute, wow. I quietly laugh before letting out, “And you didn’t believe me.” Shaking my head subtly, she will probably kill me if she finds out that he isn’t actually the pirate.

She leans close, kissing my cheek; the feeling of her lips on me still makes my heart skip. Her face lingers close to mine for a second, and she quietly says, “I’m sorry, baby. I won’t doubt you anymore.”

She can never find out.

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Glancing around the table, my mom has Sam and Willa entirely focused on whatever she’s telling them about, and Quinn has disappeared to the bar to talk to Josh. I steal a sip of Char’s drink, realizing it’s practically just water at this point, but before I get up, I have to tease her a little bit. If she thought I didn’t catch some of the little things she wrote down, she is sorely mistaken.

“So, I did see in your little notes that you think my ass is,” I pause to clear my throat dramatically, “Cute enough to take a bite out of?”

“The heart wants what it wants,” she breathes out, a soft smile forming. Her hand reached up to fix a piece of my hair that was flopped to the wrong side.

I lean in closer to her, whispering, “If you wanted to eat my ass, honey— all you had to do was ask.”

She barks out a laugh, whisper-yelling, “JACOB, WE’RE IN PUBLIC.” Her eyes darted over towards my mom and back to me.

“All I'm saying is communication is important in a relationship, and you already know I won’t say no to you,” I tell her, shooting her a wink as I stand up from the booth. “I’ll get you a fresh drink.”

“Wait—“ Her hand catches mine before I can grab her glass, tugging me to her. She gently kisses me, holding my jaw and wiping my lip off after. If she only knew, I literally couldn’t be bothered if she left any sort of lipstick, gloss, whatever on me—but it’s adorable that she does it, so I’ll never tell her. She quietly lets out, “I love you, baby.”

“Mmm, I don’t think I'll ever get tired of hearing that,” I mumble against her lips, kissing her once more before telling her, “I love you.”

I wander behind the bar to grab her some water; she’s been alternating all night, so she “doesn’t feel like dying” tomorrow. Before I can bring it back to her, Mel grabs it from me.

“I’m basically done for the night; I can deliver it for you,” she laughs out.

Glancing over at the time, it is nearly closing time already. I look back over at her, “You can be free. I’ll let Danny go too if you guys want to get home.”

“You’re the best,” she shoots me a little smile, dropping off Char’s water and immediately sliding into the booth with everyone.

I start picking up a little after Josh, which is fine because he has been hustling around for a bit now. But I feel his presence behind me as I’m wiping down some glasses to put back.

“Meant to tell you– I grabbed our mail earlier..” Josh mumbles to me. Quietly, he asks, “Did you buy a ring?”

“Mhm,” I hum back, turning to him.

He glances over at Char before asking, “Is it..?”

I just nod, watching his eyes light up.

Immediately, he tears up, letting out a quiet, “Oh my god—“

“Don’t cry,” I giggle. “I don’t know when it’ll happen; I just wanted to be ready. “

His hands landed on my arms, whispering, “I’m so happy for you.”

“Thank you,” I whisper back.

He just stares at me for a second, “She really is a good one.”

I look over at her as she hugs our Mom for probably the hundredth time today. Sitting with all our closest friends and family like she’s been here forever. They really took her in so quickly, which, given the situation when we met, was the most incredible thing they could have done. My eyes shift back to Josh, smiling as I tell him, “I think I’ll keep her around.”

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After saying our goodnights to the entire family practically, Char sat in her typical spot at the bar. Even after a year, nothing has changed with how we function. Whenever she comes down here for the weekends, she’ll just sit at the end of the bar if I have to close and pester me the entire time. And I would never ask for anything else.

“Will you make my drink?” She asks, batting her eyelashes at me. Like, I would say no.

“Well,” I glanced over at her, cocking an eyebrow. “You’re in luck; I’m the only option.”

Quickly mixing everything together for her, I bring it over. Carefully setting it in front of her, but not without leaning over the bar to give her a quick kiss.

“The service here is exceptional,” she tells me, laced with a slight laugh.

My eyebrows raise as I tell her, “You’re the only one getting that level of customer service.”

“I’ve seen the way you talk to Eleanor,” she taunts.

My eyes roll at her comment; I point at her as I whisper-yell, “DON'T START WITH ME.” Unable to keep the smirk hidden away.

“I’m not jealous! She was here first,” she says, holding her hands up while giggling away.

“You shouldn’t be jealous.”

“Oh, I’m not at all,” she tells me matter-of-factly. Casually sipping her drink as she looked me up and down.

“Good,” I laugh out, folding my arms across my chest as I watch her. “What’s with that look?”

She waves her hand, making me move closer to her. She so casually whispers, “Just— I love that I’m watching you mix drinks and be silly, but you'll also make it hard to walk tomorrow.”

My head drops, taking a deep breath. This girl's favorite hobby is making me sweat, I swear. “Jesus Christ,” I laugh out. Pulling my wrist up to check my watch, “What time do we close?”

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“Wait right here,” I tell her, quickly walking into my room to grab the gift I got her. Pulling the little bag from my closet and the flowers that I had sitting in water on my nightstand, I make my way back to her, mumbling, “These are for you.”

She pouts her lip, looking at me, “Jacob, you’re so sweet.”

Kissing me before she looks in the bag, a little smile lacing her lips as she realizes. Pulling out the book she’s been eyeing every time we go to the store, with a few little things that I found at her favorite thrift store down here.

“You’re too much,” she lets out quietly, setting everything back in the bag. “Thank you.”

I lean against the counter, and I look at her, quietly letting out, “Josh went to Quinn’s for the night so we could have the apartment to ourselves.”

“Well,” She says, her hands sliding up my chest as she leans into me. “Isn’t that just sweet of him?”

I hum back, letting my arms drape around her hips, “Mhmm.”

“Get to show my baby how much I love him,” she breathes out. Her lips pressed into my throat quickly.

I looked up for a second before asking her, “What has gotten into you?”

“Hopefully, you in a minute,” the sultry tone of her voice made my knees weak.

“Holy shit, hun,” I breathe out. “A bit needy, are we?”

She nods, quickly kissing my jaw before letting out, “I’m sorry, you’re just sooo—” She leans back, the look in her eyes making my heart race.

“Is that right?” I pop my eyebrow at her, watching the goosebumps flood her skin.

“Mhm,” she hums back. Pulling her lip in with her teeth gently before telling me, “Hot enough that I’d eat your ass or whatever.”

My head falls back as I laugh, not expecting her to bring that up. Managing to tell her, “I love you so much.”

“Mmmm, we really should have started saying that sooner,” she pauses to laugh for a second. “Hearing you say that makes you even hotter.”

My hands slide to the backs of her thighs, picking her up and setting her on the counter. Moving in between her legs, but her skirt made it difficult to get close.

“What about when I do this?” I ask quietly, pushing her skirt up so it sits around her hips. Her jaw drops slightly as she looks at me. I can see the way her breathing is already a little heavy. I lean down, kissing her legs, covered with her tights. Gently, I work my way up her thigh until I notice that I can see right through them as I get closer to her hips. I push her legs a little further apart– did she not..?

I can’t stop myself from smiling against her. My hands slide up her legs, lightly letting my fingers rub over her clit through her tights as I look up at her.

“You tryin’ to kill me?” I breathe out. “No panties?”

I watch the pink come up in her cheeks as she bites her lip.

“Lay back for me,” I whisper between kisses against her hip.

As she leans back on the counter, I hold her hips, pulling her to the edge, grabbing at the waistband of her tights, pulling them down her legs quickly. I kiss the inside of her ankle slowly, leaving wet kisses up her thighs until I get too close. Resting my lips against her pubic bone, I slowly smile against her skin, knowing it’ll drive her crazy.

“Jake, please,” she whines. Didn’t take long at all.

I ask quietly, “What do you want?”

Pressing my lips against her clit gently and then just hovering, letting my breath hit her.

“Mmm,” she hums out.

“Oh, you want this?” I taunt her, flattening my tongue against her clit. Lapping at it a few times, pulling a loud moan out of her. My hands still hold her hips as my tongue is practically spelling her name, listening to the sweet sounds that pour out of her. I wrap my lips around her clit for a second, lightly sucking in.

“Baby, oh my god,” she moans out.

I hum into her, sliding my hand up to her chin, glancing up at her, tapping her lip a few times until she opens her mouth. I slide my middle and ring finger in, and she wraps her lips around them. Swirling her tongue around them as she moans from the way my mouth is moving.

One of her hands knitted themselves into my hair, and the other held my arm. I carefully pull my hand back from her when she lets out a louder moan, slipping them right into her. ‘Yes’ and ‘Fuck’ litter the air as I push them into her a few times.

She props herself up, and I stand, leaning in to kiss her and start to pump my fingers faster inside her. She’s holding the back of my neck like it’s her lifeline. Adjusting my arm so my palm is flat against her clit, I curl my fingers up into that spot.

“Jake, oh my god,” She moans into my mouth

I look at her for a second before whispering, “Soak my fingers, honey.”

Immediately feel her hands grip my shirt, and the moans start falling out of her mouth. I can hear how wet she is and the way she’s starting to tense up on me. Leaning down, dragging my tongue along her, feeling her heartbeat. Looking back up at her as she breathes heavily, god, she is beautiful.

“Jake.. baby.. oh.. oh my god, baby..” she mumbles under her breath as she gets closer. Her voice rises as she lets out a loud “Jacob.” That’s my favorite sound.

Standing back up, her eyes flutter shut as she relaxes against me. Her face is lying on my shoulder.

“Come back to me, honey,” I whisper in her ear before kissing her cheek.

She sits back as I pull my hand from her, “I wanna see something,” she whispers, grabbing my hand that was just inside her. Tugging it up, muttering a quiet “Open.”

Sliding my fingers into my own mouth, swirling my tongue around them, tasting her on me. I can feel my cock twitch. I don’t know what she’s doing to me, but it’s working. Her jaw dropped at the sight, and I let out a little groan just to really rile her up.

“God, you’re so sexy, babe.”

I can feel my face warm, giggling at her compliment. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the way she treats me.

“Come on,” I tell her, holding my hands out to help her down. As soon as her feet hit the floor, she swung me around.

“Not so quick, handsome,” She giggles, pushing me gently against the counter. She unbuttons my pants quickly and tugs them down just enough. Her hand pulled my cock from my boxers and slid it into her mouth in one smooth motion.

My hands gently held her head as she moved further down the length of it. Fighting every urge to let my hips thrust into her. The moment her nose barely grazed my stomach, my head fell back. How is she mine? When it starts to feel a little too good, I lightly tap her shoulders. Holding my hands out to help her up, I make her trade spots with me again, her back against my chest as I tuck my face into her.

“Can you bend over for me?” I whisper into her ear. “Need to feel you.”

She eagerly leans onto the counter; I drop down, licking a wide stripe up the center of her one more time, with my hands hooking around her hips so I can grab her ass. Leaving a little kiss against her before standing back up.

I slip into her, letting out a little groan as I do. Even after a year, it still blows my mind how good she feels. Slowly rocking my hips into her, my grip on her hips tightening with every thrust. My hand slipped down, grabbing at her and pulling her back to me quickly.

She moans quietly, “Baby, you feel so good.”

My heart pounds at the sound. I start moving faster, fucking her harder. Listening to all her little sounds as I do. Without thought, my hand moves from her hip, coming down against her asscheek with a loud crack. The moan that came out of her practically made my mouth water but also made my face heat up, and grinned as I leaned down, kissing between her shoulder blades.

“You like that?” I mumble against her.

Letting out a small “Yes.”

“Mmm,” I hum out. “My sweet girl.” Slowing my hips down, tapping her sides gently.

I mutter, “Come with me,” as I’m pulling her into the bedroom.

I unzipped her skirt so it fell to the floor as she unbuttoned my shirt, pushing it off my shoulders. Her hands moved to push my pants down as I grabbed the bottom of her sweater, pulling it over her head. She pushes me back towards the end of my bed, gently pushing me to sit down.

She unclasps her bra, letting it slide down her arms until her tits are on full display. “Fuck me, you’re so hot,” I let out as I watch her toss the bra onto the floor.

She crawls into my lap and slips my cock back into her. Her lips pressed into me as she sat down. Rolling her hips against mine as we made out. My hands just run all over her, taking her in as she makes herself feel good.

When I feel her start to move up, my hands move to hold just under her ass. Helping lift her up, watching her tits bounce as she rides me.

Her hands hold onto my shoulders for support; as she leans in close to my ear, she mumbles, “Baby, your cock is sooo-” My hips jerk up as she tells me, making her moan at the feeling.

My hands still holding tight onto her ass as she rides me. I just take her in as she writhes against me, my grip on her tightening a little. Her eyes meet mine quickly, the way her pupils dilate as she stares at me.

Her sweet voice whispered, “Do it again.”

My eyebrows pull together until her hand reaches down, tapping my wrist a few times, with a devious little smirk on her lips. OH.

She rolls her hips against me a few times when I pull my hand back, bringing it back down against her quickly. The sound mixed with the moan she let out— I could get used to that.

She moans out, “Fuck me, Jake.”

One of my arms wraps around her waist, holding her close to me as I stand up. I lay her down against my pillows, still sitting between her legs; I lean over, grabbing a condom quietly. I know I won’t last long at this point, so I lean down and start dancing my tongue around her clit. Listening to her moans get higher pitched, her hands grabbing at my hair as she gets close. I plunge my fingers back into her, looking up at her when I say, “Tell me how good it is, honey.”

Her jaw drops, and the grip on my hair is strong as I work her through her orgasm; the sound of her voice as she comes makes me weak.

Sitting up on my knees, keeping one hand lightly rubbing her thigh, stroking myself a few times. I slide the condom on as she comes down, just watching her for a minute until she looks back at me.

I slip back into her, leaning down and kissing her slowly. Feeling the way her breathing is still heavy, she lets out a happy little “mmm” against me.

Starting to move my hips, I just look down at her. That’s my girl, my gorgeous girl. My heart starts to race as I take her in when I let out a quiet “I love you.”

Her hands grab my face, pulling me into her. She kisses my top lip gently, the tip of my nose, and lingers her lips against my forehead when she whispers back, “I love you, baby.”

We stay in this slow pace, littering kisses all over. Her hands basically touch any part of me that she can reach, as if she just wants to feel closer. Cradling her head in my hands, I just stare at her as my hips gently rock into her.

God— she’s mine, I think to myself. She’s genuinely the most beautiful person I’ve ever known, and I get to have all of her for myself. My hips start to move faster at the thought.

Leaning down close to her, I tuck my face into her neck, breathing her in. My pace picks up again; she’s mine. The thought makes me smile against her skin.

“Fuck—mmm…” I groan; I can feel my orgasm starting to build. Snapping my hips into her a little harder, “mine” slips out, and my eyes go wide.

Until she whispers back, “Yes baby, I’m all yours.” My heart pounds at the fact she’s encouraging it.

“Say it again,” I tell her, my voice a little louder.

“I’m yours,” she breathes out in a moan.

My eyes roll back a little at the sound, fuck.

“Come on, Jake, show me how much you love me,” she tells me. My breathing starts to pick up, letting out little whimpers when I exhale.

She keeps going; her voice is making everything so much more intense. Whispering, “I know you’re close; let me have it.”

Feeling her legs wrap around me, Fuck— she’s so hot. She holds my face gently, moving me so her lips are just hardly hovering over my ear when she lets out, “Come, baby,” in the sexiest tone I’ve ever heard.

My orgasm hits me like a freight train, moaning out, “Char—“

A minute goes by; she’s just running her hand through my hair, letting me cuddle into her. One of her hands slid down to just gently scratch my back; this is heaven.

“Feel good, babe?” She asks quietly.

I just hum back, “Mmmm.. mhm.”

I can feel her kiss the side of my head a few times, so I lazily kiss her neck. Slowly but surely, I prop myself up to look at her.

“Come with me?”

She giggles, moving the hair out of my face. “Where are we going?”

“I just want to shower real quick,” I tell her, suddenly feeling very vulnerable. My voice gets quiet when I let out, “But.. I want you to be there.”

She leans up, kissing my cheek, “Okay.”

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We both stand there in the shower, letting the warm water hit us. I’m just trying to prevent her from getting her hair wet so she can worry about it in the morning. But being able just to hold her for a few extra minutes was perfect.

She leaned back and looked at me. Her voice was quiet, “Do you want to know when I realized I loved you?”

“Of course,” I say with a small laugh.

She smiles at me, her arms sliding around my neck, “Well, you know the one night that we went out together?”

I laugh before saying, “Hun, we’ve done that a lot in the past year.”

“Oh, true,” she starts, giggling. “When we went on the unspoken date— we were still pretending we didn’t like each other that much.”

“Yes, absolutely,” I laugh with her this time. “I was incredibly obsessed with you at that point, but yes, continue.”

Her face got a little red at my comment, but she finally told me, “When you were singing to me and making me dance with you— all I could think was how I could spend forever watching you just be happy like that.”

“Forever’s a long time,” I whisper, my eyebrows raised at her with a little smile.

She leans in close, whispering back, “Not long enough with you.”

She is my wife; I’ll make sure of it.

After spending a couple of minutes struggling to breathe while we made out, we were finally crawling back into bed. We lay there talking for a bit before she started to fall asleep.

I can’t help but kiss the top of her head as she drifts off, mumbling into her, “I love you so much.”

She looks up at me, her eyelids heavy, mumbling back, “I love you.”

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Thanksgiving Day

Listening to the shower run and the random splashes from her washing her hair, I sneak into Josh’s room. Grabbing the package and quickly opening it. The small velvet box creaks as I open it. An oval cut diamond sparkles back at me, little clusters of diamonds sit on either side, and a dainty gold band. I hope she likes it.

I’ve spent the last year watching her when we’re at stores where there’s jewelry or the occasional glance when I see her scrolling on her phone. She’s never been pushy about anything happening; granted, we just told each other, ‘I love you.’ But she is my little romantic lady, and I’ve watched her zoom in on ring posts, figuring out the things she likes. I can’t wait to call her my wife one day.

I wander back into my room, tucking it behind a few things on the shelf in my closet. Knowing she’s too small to get to it and chuckling to myself at the thought of her trying.

The water shuts off, so I make my way to the bathroom to be a menace. Slowly opening the door, peeking in as she’s wrapping herself up with the towel.

“Shit— I missed it.”

“Sorry, babes,” she sighs. “Gotta move quicker next time.”

“I’ll wait,” I giggle. Watching her rub various products into her face. She keeps peeking over at me as I just lean against the counter. She’s so fucking beautiful.

“Are you really just going to watch me get ready?” She asks through a laugh.

I just nod at her, “What else could I be doing?”

She steps over to me, giving me a kiss with a little grin on her face.

“I’ll make you a deal.”

My eyebrow pops up instantly, “I’m listening.”

“If you bring me a fresh cup of coffee, I’ll drop the towel,” she tells me with a little wink.

My eyes widen at the proposition, and no words come out as I scramble to the kitchen to make her more coffee. I’ve never set up the coffee pot faster.

Practically prancing back to the bathroom with coffee for both of us, holding hers out to her. I’m sure I look like a kid on Christmas, but when your girlfriend is as gorgeous as mine, it’s hard not to be excited.

She takes it from me, sipping on it quickly, “Mmm.. thank you.” She tilts her head back with her lips already in a cute little pout, waiting for a kiss. I set my mug on the counter, cupping her jaw before kissing her. I feel the towel hit my feet, and the smile that creeps onto my face makes it hard to keep kissing her.

“Have I told you that you’re the best?” I giggle against her lips. Backing up a little to take her in, I still get butterflies whenever I look at her. She looks at me through the mirror, my smirk selling me out before I can even ask her, “What if we just ditched my family and you stay like this instead?”

“I think you’d like that a little too much,” she laughs as I wiggle my eyebrows at her. “Plus, your mom would never let you hear the end of it.”

“She already loves you. You don’t have to be on her side, you know?”

“I’m just trying to save you from another sex lecture from her, baby,” she tells me, a shitty little smirk on her lips. I never should have told her about what my mom said; she’s teased me ever since because almost nothing is worse than to have your mom, of all people, talk to you about your sex life, especially as an adult.

“Speaking of,” I start, knowing she’s going to yell at me for what I’m about to say. But it’s a little too fun to get her going. Fighting a smirk as I tell her, “If we sleep there, you’re gonna need to control yourself. I know it might be hard for you—“

“Excuse me?” She cuts me off. “You’re going to look at me right now and tell me that I have no self-control?”

I let out a loud laugh as she stared at me.

“Jake, be so serious,” trying to hold in her laugh, she rolls her eyes at me as she clips her hair up out of her way.

“You’re right,” I tell her. “But, honey,” I move closer to her, sliding my hands around her waist, “How am I supposed to have self-control when you look like this?” Pressing a kiss into her shoulder. Letting my hands wander up, cupping her breasts and letting my thumbs run over her nipples lightly.

Her head leans back against me, “Babe, you’re proving my point,” she whispers. She turns her face, kissing my cheek before looking back into the mirror to finish putting her makeup on. “Let me finish getting ready, and I’ll take care of you later, promise.”

My eyes shoot up, and my hands drop to her hips. I hold them as I meet her stare in the mirror. I can see the red creep into my cheeks as she winks at me.

“Char—“

“You’ll just have to stay quiet for me,” she says, immediately followed by her little giggle.

My head drops back because I know I’m blushing hard at this point, “Oh, shut up.” I slap her ass as I move back to my spot, grabbing my coffee and sipping on it as she laughs at me.

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After watching her eyes light up when she picks out what she wants me to wear. She insisted that we coordinate at least since it’s really the first holiday we’re spending together, and my mom is notorious for taking pictures of everyone throughout the day.

She always looks good, but I can’t stop staring at her as we walk down to the car. In an oversized cream sweater with her tights and boots, she looks precious, especially so when she’s got her hand wrapped around my arm as we walk—opening her door for her and letting her get comfortable. I toss our bag into the back seat as I make my rounds to the driver’s side.

Instinctually, I just hand my phone to her so she can pick music. It’s adorable how she tries to find songs that we both like, even though I don’t think I would question anything she puts on.

Reaching over, she quickly slips her hand into mine. Spending the rest of the drive listening to whatever she picks and the little giggles that come out of her as she scrolls through things on her phone.

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“You ready for the chaos?” I whisper as I throw the car in park.

She’s gotten more used to spending time with everyone, but adding my parents in is a different beast entirely. They all mean well; it’s just a lot of people with loud personalities.

She leans over to kiss me, whispering, “It’ll be fun.”

I grab our stuff from the backseat, and as she comes around, I hold my hand out for her. Carefully walking up the dirt driveway, my parents are always choosing different Airbnbs to stay in, and this one is just in the woods this time. As we get up to the door, I turn around to look at her.

“One more,” I mumble, leaning in to kiss her again. Her little smile against me made everything better. Knocking on the door behind me as I left a few small pecks on her lips. Hearing someone walking towards us, I pull away from her. The last thing I’m going to do is mildly embarrass her right away.

“LOTTIE,” Quinn’s voice made me jump.

They squeal and hug as if they don’t see each other almost every day, if not at least talking. They’ve become incredibly close over the past year, which probably doesn’t help that we’re all in the apartment often enough.

“Which of my babies is that?” My mom’s voice carries from a different room. Waiting for her to come in, knowing exactly what’s going to happen. “Oh my goodness! Don’t you look so cute!” She pulls Char into a hug, and here we go.

“Thank you,” Char’s sweet giggle laced it. “It already smells amazing in here.”

“Oh, you’ll have to come see what I’m baking– actually, I may have you help me if you want,” Mom tells her, her eyebrows raised, knowing that Char isn’t going to say no to baking.

“Ooooo! Yes, please!”

We’ve been here for two minutes, and I’ve already lost her to my mom. This may be record timing.

“Hi, Sweetheart, I didn’t forget about you,” Mom coos as she comes over to me, glancing at my outfit. “She dressed you, didn’t she?”

I just nod, hugging her. Mumbling to her, “Where should I put our bag?”

“Whichever room you want,” she tells me, “I’m just so happy you’re gonna stay the night.” Her hand patted my chest a few times.

I smile at her, “Of course.” She just looks at me, tucking my hair behind my ear before turning back to steal Char away.

Wandering down the hall and choosing one of the rooms to throw our stuff in. Feeling a little insane as I just smile to myself, but every time we do something for the first time like this, it’s like I’m falling in love with her all over again.

“Well, well, well,” Josh’s voice rings from behind me.

I whip my head around, “Surprised you’re not out there with everyone?”

“I was kicked out of the kitchen,” he tells me. “Apparently, they don’t agree with my ‘creative decisions’ or something.” Rolling his eyes as he folds his arms over his chest. “So, I’m going to force you to hang out with me instead.”

“Ahh,” I let out, laughing quietly. “Just like when we were kids.”

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We found ourselves sitting in the living room with our dad as the parade was starting on TV. Just catching up with him until we hear the front door open, knowing that it must be Sam. Listening to our mom holler through the house, “Is that my baby boy?”

Josh and I look at each other from across the couch. He rolls his eyes, and I can’t fight the laugh that comes out.

“I saw that,” our dad mumbles, a small smirk creeping onto his face.

Josh, being who he is, shrugs dramatically and, with a sarcastic tone, lets out, “I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Both of us giggled like children again.

“You two aren’t as slick as you think,” he laughs. Groaning as he stands up from the couch, he gives my shoulder a squeeze as he walks past.

It only takes a couple of minutes before he comes back to join us again, with Sam in tow this time. Sam plopping down near me, which is probably for the best at the rate this morning is going. Josh would probably be pestering him instantly. Our dad fell back into the spot he already had claimed.

Spending the holiday all together was always nice, mostly because none of us were working, and we obviously didn’t get to see our parents all that often. Typically, Josh would get roped into helping our mom, but I think she’s really living her best life with Quinn, Willa, and Char in there instead. She’s always been outnumbered by us, so now we’ve all been told to keep out.

Getting to spend time with our dad as an adult has been way more fun. He was usually the one in charge of telling us to ‘knock it off’ as kids and having to separate us when we were fighting. But now, we just get to enjoy hanging out with him and seeing him laugh at the stories we tell rather than have to lecture us.

In the midst of a story from him, Quinn walks in, setting a tray of little snacks for us on the coffee table, pointing out one of them to Josh, but I couldn’t hear what they said because Char slid her hand over my chest from behind the couch.

“Thought you might want this,” she says, handing me a hot cup of coffee. My head tilted back against the couch to see her as I carefully stole the mug from her.

I just stare at her for a second, taking in how adorable she looks today, before mumbling back, “Thank you, hun.” She leans down, kissing my forehead before padding back off into the kitchen. My self-control really is low because I absolutely watched her walk away until she was completely out of sight.

“You good over there, bud?” My dad taps my arm, bringing me back to reality as he chuckles to himself.

My face heats up a little, but I just sip my coffee to try to hide it.

“They’re always like that,” Sam chimes in, making a disgusted face at me. I flip him off as I take another sip of my coffee.

“Samantha, I know you’re not talking,” Quinn says, making the rest of us laugh. “Don’t forget, I can hear you and Wills talking when you’re at our apartment.”

His jaw drops slightly, just staring back at them.

“Should I give examples?”

“Nope! I’d rather you didn’t!”

Josh chimes in, “I personally think it’s cute how she has Jake wrapped around her finger.”

Our dad laughs as soon as it comes out, which makes me laugh. He isn’t wrong. Quinn kissed Josh’s cheek before prancing back off to the kitchen.

“Hard not to be,” I mumble into my coffee mug. All I can think of is how she’s just the type of love I need in my life. She’s this incredibly independent woman, so confident in her career, and wildly intelligent— she blows my mind every day. But then she’ll come home to me on the weekends and melt into me, just wanting to be loved and so sweet. Or if I go to her and the bar has been overwhelming, she’s so gentle and takes care of me.

The sound of Sam and Josh cackling brings me back while my dads mutters, “Oh, give him a break.” Probably good that I didn’t hear it.

We all sat around as Dad updated us on how life outside of New England was. Telling us about all the little places they’ve found, their favorite restaurants, and the few friends they’ve finally made.

“That’s great, Dad,” Sam chimes in. It feels like we’re all kids again, just hanging out with him; the thought alone makes my heart swell a little.

“You guys should come visit during the winter,” he tells us. “Get out of the cold for a few days.”

I look over to him, “I’m sure we can plan something.”

Hearing a fit of laughter coming from the other room, we all look at each other in silence.

“That’s a scary sound,” Dad groans quietly, and we all giggle. “Everyone knows a secret about one of us now.”

“Don’t say that.”

“Oh god.”

“No, no, no.”

He throws his head back in laughter, “Figured you boys would have learned at this point. Your mother loves to share secrets with anybody who will listen.”

“Shit,” I let out under my breath. This isn’t the first time she’s been around Charlotte, but I’m usually right next to her, so the secrets have been kept to a minimum. I’m definitely fucked.

Quickly distracted by the sound of little feet walking through the room, Iris runs straight over to Josh when she rounds the corner of the couch. He scoops her up in a hug, her little laugh making all of us smile.

“I should have known that’s where she was going,” Danny’s voice cuts through the laughter, joining Josh and Iris on the other side of the couch.

My dad has always loved him, well— both of my parents do. But he has an open invitation to every holiday that my parents decide to host. I think they like that he has Mel and Iris now, especially since none of their actual children are going to be giving them grandkids anytime soon.

They’re mid-conversation when Sam abruptly jumps up, walks to the hall, and yells, “Mom! Santa is almost here!” Coming back to the couch, our dad shot him a wink.

“Thank you, Sammy,” Mom lets out loudly as she scurries into the room, leaning on the back of the couch behind Dad. Everyone follows her in; Willa is plopping down next to Sam, and Quinn is sitting on the floor below Josh. There she is.

“Hey you,” I whisper as Char sneaks over to me, tucking herself close to me as we watch Mel tell Iris to look for Santa. My arm tugged her as close as I could because I knew I was only getting her for a couple of minutes.

“Is this a thing?” She whispers in my ear.

I nod, turning my face to whisper back. “My mom always makes sure that she comes in to watch Santa show up because we would get so excited when we were little. So now, we always make sure to get her before, and she always cries when he shows up.”

Her little smile when she lets out a little “aw” before looking over to my parents. My mom’s arms are slung around my dad’s neck, and he has one hand covering hers. Her eyes already teared up at just the glimpse of Santa and Mrs Claus, but the tears finally fell when Iris jumped out of Josh’s arms, pointing to the TV.

“Oh, what a sweet little thing,” Mom lets out quietly.

I pull Char’s legs over mine, keeping my hand on her thigh. I want to just keep her to myself now. The urge to keep her trapped only got worse when she leaned her head against me.

Before I knew it, chaos ensued yet again. My mom stole my girlfriend from me, not before I snuck about eighteen “one more” kisses on her— despite being told to get a room.

Somehow, we all got roped into a game, or a handful of rounds, of hide and seek with Iris, proving that we are still just children.

All of us laugh as we run around this house, trying to find places to hide that aren’t too hard for her to figure out. The only downside was dependent on who she found first. Unfortunately, Sam only plays to win, so if she found him first, we were all screwed; he would be holding her on his hip as he did all the leg work for her, making a scene when he’d find us, which made her belly laugh every time.

We spent a few hours entertaining her when my mom finally announced that the food was basically ready. I wander into the kitchen to grab a drink, but I am sidetracked when I sneak behind Charlotte, sliding my arms around her.

“Hi, baby,” she giggles quietly.

I snuggle my face into her neck for a second, whispering, “I’ve missed you all day.”

“I’ll be all yours soon enough.”

I press a kiss to her cheek before letting go, asking, “What do you want to drink? I’ll bring it in there for you.”

A collective ‘aw’ rings through the room, and I can feel my face heat up a little. At least they think it’s cute; I’ve just been bullied all day. I poured some of the wine from the fridge into her and grabbed a glass for myself. Going out of my way to give her a kiss, feeling her grab my ass as I turn to join the rest of the boys. I whipped my head to look at her, and she just smirked at me. She subtly blew me a kiss. She’s lucky she’s cute.

Everyone slowly joins the table, taking turns grabbing food. There are at least fourteen conversations happening at once, but somehow, it’s not overwhelming. Char is sitting to my left, my hand finding comfort on her leg every so often. The conversations varied throughout the meal from everybody focused on Mom telling a story, likely about us as kids or just tapering off into a million different ones. Feeling her hand grab mine once she was done eating, she just mindlessly played with the rings I had on as we sat there.

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After dinner was done, Mom insisted that none of the kids help with dishes but get into comfy clothes so we could watch Christmas movies together. We all say our goodbyes to Danny, Mel, and Iris since they have more families to visit.

I lay on our bed, watching her change into my sweatshirt and some leggings. She looks up at me, giggling as she pulls on some fuzzy socks, “they’re extra comfy,” she told me when she packed them this morning.

“You ready, honey?” I ask as she sits on the bed with me.

She lays back, throws her leg over my hips, and plants a kiss on me. Letting out a quiet “Almost.” She snuggles herself into me for a minute, which I won’t complain about. My hand squeezed her thigh a few times.

“Comfortable?”

She nods her head against me, “I’ve barely seen you today. Feels weird.”

“I’m glad you had fun with my mom, at least.”

She lets out a little laugh, propping herself up on her elbow before telling me, “She told me a little secret about you.”

“Did she?”

Her smile is wide as she stares at me, “Mhmm,” she hums.

“Why do I feel like I know what it is..?” I mumble, squinting my eyes at her.

Her sweet little laugh sneaks out, “Well.. something about you always crying over having to wash your pirate jammies?” Of course.

“Come on, if we don’t get up now, I’m never gonna go,” I tell her, patting her butt a couple of times. Why does she have to tell everybody that?

“Oh, don’t be embarrassed!” She hangs on me as I sit up. “It's cute, baby!”

“Yeah, yeah,” I roll my eyes at her, fighting a smile. “I’m sure she’s ready to spill all my secrets to you.”

Her lips land on my cheek as she giggles at me, her hand holding the other side of my face. She whispers, “I’ll tell you my secrets later if you want.”

Jesus Christ. I can feel my heart rate pick up, quickly spitting out, “Alright, you. Let’s go.”

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We make our way out to the living room, claiming the corner of the couch that I’d been in all morning. I give her the actual corner of the couch and just pull the coffee table closer so I can prop my feet up on there.

It’s not long before everybody else is coming in and getting comfortable. Sam and Willa steal the other corner since his legs are too long to be banished to the end of the couch. My parents sat between us, mom closer to me.

Josh and Quinn curl up together at Char’s feet, just propping cushions up so they don’t squish her. Dad shuts off the big lights, just letting the little lamps try to light up this room.

My mom changed it to The Grinch, and the tradition continued as we all curled up with our own blankets.

I feel Char adjust so she’s cuddled up on my chest, my arm wrapped around her to keep her close. Pressing a kiss to the top of her head without thought. My mom’s hand grazes mine, making me look over at her. She holds my hand for a second as we just stare at each other, giving my hand a few squeezes before she leans into Dad.

And there we all sat, laughing at the movie like we do every year. Finally, feeling complete as the love of my life giggles against me while I’m surrounded by my family. It feels like nothing could get better at the moment until she tilts her head up, kisses my cheek, and whispers, “I love you.”

I glance down at her, giving her a quiet kiss, hoping to not out us to the rest of the room. She just stares up at me, the green of her eyes hardly visible in the dim glow of the TV. But the butterflies still erupt inside me when she looks at me like that. I can’t believe I get to spend forever with her. Slowly blinking at her, I just take her in.

Finally, whispering back, “I love you, honey.”

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Chapter Twenty-Five

FDOG Master Post | Masterlist | Playlist

Sam & Willa : Sparrow Of The Dawn

Josh & Quinn : Amongst The Stars

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