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tonycries · 8 months ago

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Hope They Catch Us - G.S.

Synopsis. When you’re on-screen, it’s always a rivalry to see who’s best - you just never thought that it would be the same struggle in bed.

Pairing. Actor! Gojo Satoru x Co-Star! Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, rivals-to-lovers, co-stars to lovers, unprotected, oral (fem receiving) slight exhíbitionism (stuff with cameras), marking, praise, Satoru is actually down BAD, cúmplay, tabloids, lowkey fluffy at the end, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.5k

A/N. YA GIRL IS BACKKKK ;D Also happy belated three months to this blog hehehe.

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---

You hated him. Oh, how you hated him. All because of a red-hot rivalry that had sparked ever since the two of you took the industry by storm. And everyone from Hollywood’s bigshots to your adoring fans knew that no matter where Gojo Satoru goes, you were sure to never be within a ten-mile radius.

Well, usually.

“I…shit- I’m in love with you.”

Because avoiding Gojo like a plague really isn’t saying much when said plague was currently sitting right next to you. Eyes boring into yours, signature smirk plastered on his face while he rattles off a disgustingly sweet confession - all on the set of your latest movie.

Somehow, in a cruel twist of fate, your co-star.

And to add insult to injury, this wasn’t just any movie - it was only set to be the biggest romance film of the summer. So not only did you hate to tolerate Gojo, you had to pretend to be in love with him.

Perfect. Great. Wonderful. If only the check wasn’t as tempting as it was, you think he would’ve successfully driven you to an aneurysm already. Especially considering that the scene tomorrow was-

“CUT!”

That snaps you out of your little reverie, bringing you back to the still very ongoing film shooting. You risk a glance at the disgruntled director, cheeks aching from the sappy fake smile you had to hold for this scene.

“Something wrong?” you bat your lashes deceivingly innocently. You knew exactly what was wrong. And one look at Gojo - dressed to the nines and huffing sulkily at being interrupted in the middle of his monologue - told you that he did as well.

“It just doesn’t feel real.” The director shuffles his script, voice dropping to a sigh at your confused gazes. “The spark, it doesn't feel real.”

“What?” you silently thank your years of acting for keeping your voice steady. You squirm in your seat the longer the silence stretches. This cozy little café they rented out too tight, Gojo’s fingers intertwined with yours too hot. Too soft.

“C’mon. You are in the perfect romantic set-up.” the other man gestures wearily at the café, at the dim-lighting and the proximity of your seats. “So why do you two look like you want to just- strangle each other?”

“Ooo kinky~”

It’s the first time Gojo’s spoken up since the scene was ended early and honestly that was enough to have you fulfilling the director’s suspicions.

“That.” you give him a pointed stare. “That is probably why.”

And that just draws out such an infuriatingly light chuckle from Gojo, as he sprawls all over his chair with the audacity of someone that owned this entire set. “Lighten up. You’ve told us, n’ in the next take I’ll fix it. Easy peasy.”

If only it was that “easy peasy”. The director was anything but satisfied, running a hand through his hair frustratedly. “It’s not just me, even the public is worried whether your ‘feud’ will get in the way of such intimate scenes. You-” he jabs a finger your way. “-better pretend like you want to kiss him senseless and you-” whirling now to Gojo. “-better act like you’ve wanted nothing more for years- Not to mention tomorrow’s sex scene-”

Ah, right. The sex scene.

How could you forget? It might not be a walk in the park to giggle and make heart-eyes at Gojo, but to actually pretend to have sex with him? All on camera? Curse whoever wrote this damn script. You could’ve almost laughed at the universe’s absolutely awful sense of humor if it hadn’t been for your paycheck - and the next words that tumble out of Gojo’s pretty mouth.

“We’ll ace it, you just watch.”

You hurriedly snap your eyes to meet Gojo’s, sending him a look that says “behave”, in a way that very much makes him not want to. Twinkling with such dangerous mischief that makes your stomach flip as he hums, “Or- I’ll ace it.”

God, was it a battle to remain professional. The only thing stopping you from snapping back being the way he squeezes your hand mockingly reassuringly - to which you send him a death grip back, of course.

“Oh? Care to elaborate, Mr. Gojo?” the director asks, eyes flitting between the two of you. And you can’t even laugh at the rest of the staff for almost toppling out of their seats in an attempt to hear his answer - because you are, too. Mind whirling as you lean closer, wondering just what nonsense would come out of Gojo’s mouth.

“Well, you could say…” he trails off suspensefully, like the smug bastard he is. Looking right in your eyes as he flashes an unfairly pretty smile your way. “I’m irresistible like that.”

Exactly the type of nonsense that would come out of Gojo Satoru, of course. And one glance at the director told you he was thinking the same thing. He was going to be the death of you. You can’t help but breathe out shrilly, “You fucking-”

“My apologies, director, but our leads have a scheduled interview soon. Rest assured, we will be early on set for filming tomorrow.”

You were definitely giving Nanami a raise after this.

Because if looks could kill then Gojo would be six feet under and you’d be dancing on his grace already - and you let him know. A little over twenty times, actually, as the both of you are hastily escorted away from the set for an “emergency interview”.

It was a flimsy excuse, you both knew, but Nanami hadn’t exactly felt like cleaning up a crime scene today. Instead, settling for a swift escape, the director calling out after you two to “Look like you’re gonna rip the clothes off each other tomorrow.”

Rip the clothes off each other, huh?

With the way things were going, you couldn’t be surprised if you ripped him a new-

“C’mon, sweetheart~” Gojo gets out through giggles, that familiar cackle echoing in the narrow hallway leading to your trailer. “Y’know I was just having a little fun with that ol’ man.”

He saunters unhurriedly behind your brisk pace, easily blocking the way you swing the door shut in his face. Letting it shut with such infuriatingly smooth nonchalance.

“Fun?” you scoff, jabbing an accusing finger right in the middle of his sculpted chest.“Do you even realize the mess you could’ve made?”

“Easy there, m’not insured for these pecs just yet.” Gojo clasps your hands together. Some strange little part of your skin burning at the touch in- anger? Something else? But you don’t think too hard about it, because he’s plowing on, “Besides, a little teasing never hurt anyone.”

Such a shame he was so pretty with the stupidest mouth.

“A little teasing? You practically declared to everyone in that room that we’re gonna fuck this up.” you move to pull him down by the collar instead, clearly unimpressed.

But oh you shouldn’t have done that - because he’s so close now. Too close. Hot breath fanning your face, looking so smug as he murmurs unrepentantly, “Do you?” Chuckling lightly at your little head tilt, “Do you think we’ll fuck it up?”

You clench your jaw, trying to keep it all together. “...No.”

“Exactly. We’re good then.” he winks.

“No. We’re not fucking ‘good’.” you grit out. Wondering exactly how difficult it might be to bother the director into completely recasting the male lead for the movie. Looking up at that million dollar smile and- yeah, it would be very difficult. “You’re so insufferable. I don’t know why they cast you.”

“My good looks? My charisma? The way I’m the-” he trails off with a sigh at your glare. “Well, you’re not exactly a ray of sunshine, sweetheart.”

“At least I can act and-.”

He whines dramatically, cutting off your rant. “Me too!”

This conversation was so ridiculous - but, hey, the great Gojo Satoru always did bring out the worst parts of you.

“Nuh uh.”

“Yuh uh.”

“Then why are you so stiff when acting like you’re in love with me?”

Somehow, that makes Gojo shut up. Mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water - gasping out a strangled little, “B-because- well-” And if you didn’t know any better you’d say that was a light blush dusting his ears.

Only for a split-second, though, because he’s grabbing you gently by your shoulders, more seriously than you’d ever seen him. “Fine. Listen, we both want the same thing right? To have pretend-sex and ace this film to win like five Oscars?”

And maybe at the heat of his newfound proximity, maybe at the way he was looking at you so goddamn intensely - you feel something hot and prickly pooling in your stomach. Swallowing thickly, you manage to get out, “I’ll be the one winning the Oscars...but yes.”

Gojo’s gaze roams all over you - from the quirk of your eyebrow to the dress hugging you so sinfully tight. “Then we’ll do it. Ace the scene.”

Traitorously, a shiver runs down your spine. And because the universe loves to play jokes on you, Gojo notices - of course, he does. Eyes lighting up with amusement and something you really didn’t want to decipher as you blink up questioningly, “How?”

“Method acting, silly.” he rolls his eyes, as if he wasn’t implying something that wasn’t seen in even the cheesiest of romcoms. “Think of it as running lines.”

If there was ever a moment where your life flashed behind your eyes then this just might be it.

“You-” you gulp, so hot all over. “You better shut the fuck up and pray your face is insured because-”

At this, Gojo throws his head back and laughs - loud and boisterous. And usually you’d have a thing or two to say about keeping his voice down so as not to let anyone outside hear, but shit you were mesmerized. Damn, a weird little part of you kind of understood why directors loved him onscreen.

“Feisty,” he muses. “But how can I shut the fuck up when they’re second-guessing the two best actors in the game?”

“The best? Me, maybe.” you lean in closer, mouth as bitchy as ever - even when you’re so obviously crumbling bit by bit under his gaze. And he knew that. “But not you.”

“Well, only way to find out is with tomorrow’s scene, right, sweetheart?”

He drove you mad - everything from his heady cologne, to the way that overpriced button-up clung to him like second skin. But, don’t pull away - how could you? Not when he inches closer ever-so-slightly. Not when he lets those overpriced glasses slide down his nose, eyes locked so heavily on you.

Fighting to keep your words steady, “There’s nothing special about that scene, just fake moan in front of the camera, right? We don’t need any…‘method acting’.”

Gojo only raises a brow in amusement, lips curling into a grin that really makes you too aware of his little dimple by the corner. “Then why…” His eyes flicker down from his hands, searing on your shoulders, to yours - still grabbing his collar, just grazing the soft skin of his neck. Not pulling away. “...can’t you let go of me, sweetheart?”

And then you’re kissing him - or maybe he’s kissing you, you really don’t give a fuck. The only thing running through your mind being that shit this was Gojo bane-of-your-existence Satoru, and he tasted so…sweet. Like those cheap lollipops he often snuck on-set. Strawberry, you think.

But you don’t get to confirm, because suddenly he’s pulling away mere millimeters. Whispering hotly, absolutely dripping with something dangerous, “Sooo, is that a ‘yes’ to running lines?”

“Ugh, shut up.” your lips ghost his. “And just fucking kiss me.”

And, well, Gojo doesn’t have to be asked twice. Because it only takes a split second for his lips to find yours again.

Yeah, definitely strawberry lollipops.

You hadn’t filmed any of the kissing scenes just yet, but damn you didn’t expect him to be so hot and messy - like he was drunk off of you. Licking at the seam of your candied lips, groaning softly like he wanted more more more-

“Sh-shit, Goj-”

“Call me ‘Satoru’ when we’re fucking.” he cuts you off. “Or, my bad. When we’re ‘running lines’.”

Shameless. Though, you guess you weren’t any better - not as you press yourself closer running your hands all over his sinfully thin shirt, feeling every bump and curve of his abs. “You talk too much, Toru.” you hiss, muffled against his lips.

Oh that cute lil’ nickname had all the blood rushing to Satoru’s cock, you were so unfair.

“You little minx.” Like a little punishment, he’s biting down on your bottom lip, tugging lightly at your surprised squeal. “You’re gonna regret that.”

“Hmm, I doubt it.”

And then your back is hitting the couch before you can react, bouncing lightly at the sheer force. And you’re so swept up in him - the way he hovers over you, arms looping around your waist, his knee wedging between your legs - that it almost hurts for you to pull away.

“Patience.” you huff out a laugh at Satoru’s disappointed whine, eyeing those pretty pink lips mere inches away from you. You just wanted them on yours. So badly. But no, there was something more important you had to do right now. “Jus’ thought we should record our little rehearsal, whaddaya think?”

“Record it?”

“Record it.”

“Record it, hmmm?” he’s whispering, more to himself than you. Fumbling with the zipper of your dress. “So you’re sayin’ we tape it, let the camera see how pretty you look all fallin’ apart f’me.” Kissing down your neck, letting the flimsy fabric fall down, “N’ then we improve for the pretend sex. Shut all those snobby directors up by giving them the best fucking sex scene they’ve ever seen.”

“Y-yes?” you mutter, as he starts tweaking your hardened nipples through your bra, clearly having way too much fun with this. “Unless-”

“Fine by me.”

The fabric hits the floor before you even realize what’s happening. Head spinning too much from the idea of being fucked on camera - by Satoru of all people, it takes you a second to realize that this bastard fucking ripped your dress off.

“You probably broke-”

“I’ll buy you a new one.” muffled, as he kisses down your navel, blindly fumbling with his phone.

“It was expensive.”

With an impatient sigh, Satoru sets the camera up on the coffee table beside the couch. “Five new ones.” Angling it just right to perfectly capture you - in all your disheveled, horny glory, and Satoru, smugly seating himself between your thighs.

“Ready?” he asks, finger hovering over that damn red button.

Well, it’s just for rehearsal, right? Right?

“Do it.” you manage to get out, voice getting stuck in your throat at the faint ding! that rings throughout the heady room. “For my Oscars?”

“For my Oscars. N’the camera’s gonna know.”

And whatever retort on the tip of your tongue dies when he rocks his hip against yours, grinding his cock against your soaked panties. Rock-hard and so damp with precum already - so big that any and all rational thinking flies out the window.

Which is probably why you’re letting out such a pretty gasp, ‘S-Satoru, I want-“

“What?” And Satoru only flashes you a devilish grin, hands spreading your legs as far as they’d go on the couch. “This?”

He licks a long, long stripe up your inner thigh, all the way till he just meets the hem of your drenched panties. Teasing. So hot and depraved in the way he breathes in your scent.

“Oh fuck, sweetheart.” Satoru grunts, looking down in awe at the damp fabric, so flimsy and see-through with your sweet juices. You slick beading through so sloppily, just a hint of the state you were in. “You don’t know how you drive me mad.”

Rip!

He’s so fucking starved that he’s just tearing your poor panties clean off. Throwing them behind him to God-knows-where before spreading your swollen folds with his thumb, showing off just how wet you were for him.

“You’re a tease.”

“And you’re fucking addictive. Look how fuckin’ wet you are. For who, huh?” he slurs, breath hot against your cunt. Circling your entrance just barely with his fingertip, teasing you like he was addicted to those frustrated moans coming out of your pretty lips.

“S’for you-” you whine, “All for you, Satoru.”

“Exactly what I wanted to hear.”

And that’s all that needs to be said before he’s burying himself nose-deep. Drunk off your pussy as he licks long, languid movements. And it wasn’t enough - never might be, actually, because only one taste and Satoru was like a man possessed.

Bullying his tongue between your folds, just dipping into your sloppy hole in a way that had your slick smearing all over his pretty face. Letting out such deep groans that had you clenching around his hot tongue.

Shit, if you knew that this was the way to shut up the great Gojo Satoru then you would’ve done it a lot sooner. Because for one in his life, Satoru’s too entranced with something else to run his mouth, so fucking satisfied between your thighs.

“Fuck- hah- think I like you better w-when hngh- you’re like this, Toru.” you purr, breath hitching as he bullies his tongue between your folds.

Maybe you were an idiot - maybe you were a genius, because that only sets him off more.

And suddenly Satoru’s pulling your body closer onto his hot mouth, like you were weighless. Pushing himself so impossibly closer while he makes out deeper with your wet cunt.

“Ah! Hngh- Satoru-” you keen, tugging at his soft locks. As delirious as Satoru was pussydrunk. Drinking in all your cute lil’ whines of his name, angling your hips to lick all over like he couldn’t decide between fucking your sloppy hole or toying with your poor, ravaged clit.

“Mhm?” he murmurs, the vibrations making you squeal. Eyes rolling to the back of his head as lets your sweet juices slide down his throat. “Ya like this?” Stretching you out on his tongue, thrusting in and out of your sloppy hole. Over and over- “Like when I tonguefuck your pretty pussy?”

“Ngh- love it- s’good. Ah fillin’ me up s’good.” you squeal, bucking your hips desperately into his pretty face, broken little whimpers leaving you at each rough push of Satoru’s tongue.

And oh Satoru thinks he wouldn’t mind being on his knees every day if it meant he got to taste you like this. “Tell the camera too, sweetheart. Practice how you’ll come around my tongue.”

Those words send a jolt up your spine - or maybe it was the way Satoru was sucking harshly on your clit. “F-fuck off.”

“Mhmmm, n’ this is why I’m the better actor..”

Ugh, this fucker. And with that you fight to turn your head - looking right in the camera. Feeling so fucking lewd as you let out such pornographic moans.

“Yeah- feel s’good.” you whimper, “Wanted this for so long, ever since I first saw- ngh- you-”

And shit were you so fucking evil - at least warn a guy! Because that has Satoru’s heart lurching, almost jumping up from between your legs before it hits him with a pang - ah, right, you were just quoting your character’s lines. Of course.

Well, two can play that game.

“Yeah?” he mutters into your folds. Two fingers plunging knuckle-deep in your pussy, massaging your plushy walls. Roaming around for that one spot he knows will have you falling apart so deliciously. “Can’t believe I waited s’fucking long. Y’know how hard it was to hold back? With you wearing all those slutty skirts f’me?”

Your body is jerking violently, both at his - practiced - words, and the way he was devouring you like you were his favorite meal. His favorite taste.

So eager and in-character with the way he was setting such a dizzying pace on your poor cunt. Slick trailing down from his fingers, all the way to his wrist. So sloppy and- Pressing down. Hard. “Found it.”

And you can only sit there and take it, such cute little whines of Satoru’s name leaving you as he leaves no mercy. Jaw grinding deeper and deeper, maddening. Aching as he rolls and swirls his tongue against your clit over and over. And you were so-

“Close?” Satoru’s grunting and smacking his lips against your own. Truthfully, he didn’t even have to ask - if the way you were trembling and squeezing so fucking tightly around him was anything to go by. “Go on darling. scream my name. Show off f’the camera like you do best.”

“Sh-shit. Toru- fuck yes-” you’ve got an iron-tight grip on his hair now, pulling and angling him as you pleased for more. Barely able to let out those strained lil’ moans, definitely not with the way he’s dragging your sloppy pussy all over his face. Fingers cramping up from how rough he was going - but still not stopping.

“Go on. Cum f’me.”

And then you are. Letting out such a teary, strangled moan of Satoru’s name as you cum all over his face.

And it’s not just for the camera either - because this orgasm is probably the best one you’ve had in a while. So hard that you don’t even realize you’re arching and rocking your hips into Satoru, white-hot pleasure behind your eyes, blood roaring in your ears. Using him.

And he doesn’t stop you. Why would he? You were so pretty falling apart all because of him. He wishes he could see this more often…

“S-Satoru.” you mewl, overstimulated. Jolting with each flick of his tongue, trying to close your legs but you can’t - he won’t let you. Greedily lapping up all your sweet juices, everything that you give him.

“Nope.” he drawls, finally pulling away, delicate strings of your slick snapping as he does. Looking so fucking drunk off of you that it makes your cunt quiver exhaustedly. “C’mon now, sweetheart, you were s’pposed to say my character’s name. S’how the scene goes.”

Oh. Shit, you got too caught up. But one look at Satoru - eyes half-lidded, hair disheveled, your juices glistening all over the bottom half of his face so prettily - tells you he was much the same.

“Well…” you huff, voice shot. “According to the script you were supposed to stuff that-” pointedly eyeing the achingly hard cock straining his pants, “-in my mouth first before eating me out. So here we are.”

With a chuckle, he rises slowly. “Touché.” Looking you straight in the eyes - and probably into your very soul - as he pops his fingers into his mouth. One by one. Groaning at the taste of your sweet sweet juices while he sucks them clean. “But I don’t think I’d last one second with those pretty lips wrapped around my cock.”

And it almost makes you want to tease him for it - one of Hollywood’s biggest It Boys but you can’t handle a lil’ blowjob? But all of that gets stuck in your throat as Satoru starts peeling off his shirt ever-so-slowly.

Shit, you think. All mouthwatering curves and dips, all the way from his toned, milky shoulders down, down, down to those neat tufts of white peeking out from the hem of his underwear. Sculpted like he was handcrafted so meticulously - a fucking masterpiece, you had to admit.

One that made you wish you took a longer look at all those shirtless magazine covers instead of throwing them out. One that had your thighs squeezing in such anticipation.

And Satoru seemed to be admiring you just the same, eyes locked on your pussy, the way it glistens and clenches around nothing - so ready for him. Distinctly aware of how pathetically needy you were being in front of the blinking camera, you crane your head to glance at it. Was it really capturing-

“Now now, first rule is to never look at the camera during this scene.” Only for Satoru to squish your cheeks together, forcing you into an embarrassing little pout as he turns you back to face him. “Look at me.”

And oh you can’t not look at him.

Especially when he tugs his pants down, just enough that his throbbing cock springs out, so fucking long and pretty. Smearing glossy precum all over his abs, flushed your favorite shade of pink, rock-hard and so so angry. Shit, he was so hard it looked like it hurt.

“Satoru…” you breathe, legs wrapping around his slutty waist to pull him closer. Only needier despite that little nagging voice wondering how the fuck you’d take his sheer size.

“Sweetheart?”

“I remember he didn’t do a lot of waiting in the script.”

And God were you right - but Satoru doesn’t think he could’ve kept this act of restraint up any longer even if you weren’t. Too impatient, too starved, his sanity dancing away from him with each second his fat cock wasn’t stuffed inside your pretty cunt.

“Mhm.” he purrs, one hand reaching down to drag his fat head up and down your slit. Heavy balls squeezing painfully at the way your lip wobbles in frustration. Up and down up and up and- “You’re right.”

And then it’s like something snaps.

Because it only takes a split-second for Satoru to start splitting you apart on his massive cock. Big fat tears pricking at your eyes at the feeling that he was pushing all the way into your lungs.

“Sh-shit, s’fuckin’ tight-” he lets out a low grunt at the slight resistance, taking everything in him to not just fuck into your snug pussy and use you like his little plaything. “You gotta hah- relax, pretty girl.”

You needed to relax more - to breathe maybe, just something. You weren’t even in the right state to wonder whether that little nickname was in the script - and God was Satoru thankful for that. Because all you can think of is how you never imagined what the bane of your existence would look with his cock stuffed in your dripping cunt - but now that you’ve seen it, you think you’ll imagine it for many lonely nights to come.

“Hey, now. Don’t get camera-shy just yet.” Satoru gives your ass a playful smack. “After all, this is only the best- part-”

Each word is punctuated with shallow, mindless little thrust to fit himself inside your dripping pussy. Such cute lil’ whines leaving your swollen lips that he really can’t help but tease you a bit. Leering down at your fucked-out face with a smirk, “Or- my bad. Forgot such a scene would be hard for a rookie.”

Oh, did he know how to press your buttons just right.

Because immediately, you’re blinking away the delirious haze in your eyes, voice so adorably shaky - but determined - as you grit out, “Bring it on, you B-list wonder.”

That’s all that has to be said before he’s finally bottoming out inside you, mercilessly. Inch by fucking inch. You gasp as his twitching balls smack your ass so lewdly, feeling his veins beat in such a slutty lil’ thump! thump! thump! against your heavenly walls.

“T-Toru- big- ngh- too fuckin’ big. M’gonna break mpf-” his lips claim yours. Partially because it’s been way too long since he’s kissed your pretty lips, and partially because Satoru might just cum right then and there if he let you run your mouth.

So he lets his hips do the talking instead.

Cooing into your mouth at each little ah! ah! ah! every time he stuffed you full of his dick, quick, experimental thrusts to try and find that one spot he knows will have you falling apart so prettily.

“Sounds so beautiful, sweetheart.” rocking his hips faster into yours. So hard you were sure he’d leave marks. “No camera in the world can pick up how fuckin’ perfect ya are. Can’t ngh- pick up those cockdrunk lil’ heart eyes.” Angling your chin just so that your sinful expression is caught on camera, “Shit do ya even know you’re doing those? Might just make me lose it for real tomorrow. Might just make me sneak you off to the dressing rooms n’-” Manicured fingers digging into your hips while he fucks you in jagged, purposeful strokes. Hitting that one spot. Hard. “Fuck you all over again.”

You flinch as he uses you like some object. Dangerously liking it more and more as he smugly hits that magical spot over and over-

And it was so sloppy - so filthy with the way Satoru still had remnants of your slick all over his lips, matching the way you were soaking his cock. Fingers moving down to draw erratic little patterns on your clit, making it even messier.

Close - too close.

So, so desperate and debauched.

“C’mon. Show the camera. Tell the camera how much you love it.”

“Ngh- f-fuck you.”

“Oh? Who’s fucking who now?” he’s laughing at your absolutely wrecked state. You can feel Satoru twitch inside you as you mumble out such delirious little praises to the camera - were they coherent sentences? You’ll never know, because the next words that fall from his lips have your mind reeling.

“God, m’addicted to you, my girl.”

“That’s not- ah- in the script, Toru.” you hiss. Close.

“I know. And neither is that.” he leaves such uncharacteristically gentle kisses down your neck. Miles away from the relentless place on your poor, abused pussy, fucking you deeper and rougher every time despite already bottoming out. “Does it have to be?”

“Th-that doesn’t ngh- make sense.” you gasp into his open mouth.

“Doesn’t have to.”

Maybe it’s the way Satoru’s panting those words against your lips. Or maybe it’s the way he’s looking right in your eyes while he says them - like it would kill him to pull away. Maybe even that fleeting little kiss he leaves against your lips.

Because before you know it, you’re cumming and cumming so hard that you wonder whether you’d make it out alive. The only thing you can do is throw your head back and take it, thighs quivering, Satoru’s names spilling from your lips in such broken little whines while he thrusts so sloppy. Once. Twice.

“Ah- this is gonna have me fallin’, huh?” And then he’s letting out such a low, muffled moan of your name, filling you up with rope after rope of his cum.

What?

It’s so messy - his cum overfilling your poor pussy, spilling out and coating his twitching balls. Shit, you can’t even worry about whether it would stain that overpriced couch below you. Not when Satoru’s whispering out sweet- lines from the script?

“Fuckin’ beautiful underneath me. Always was.” Hips still fucking into you - not even thinking at this point. “Always will be. Such a vision onscreen, sweetheart.” So thick and hot, and dribbling all the way down your legs with every movement.

And then Satoru’s lips are finding yours again, tasting so unfairly sweet while he drinks in all your cute breathless gasps. “Such a vision f’me.”

Those weren’t from the script either.

Something soft. Something scary. Something that has you looping your legs tighter around his waist, letting him collapse onto you. Pulling him closer, in fact, because now that you know the weight of his body on yours, it just felt so right.

It takes a moment of silence for you two to catch your breaths, the still rolling camera being the last thing on your minds. Neither willing to speak first, because shit Satoru might’ve gone to countless red carpets and film sets but this - you are what strips him away from all the glamor and fame. Until he was just, well, embarrassingly Satoru.

The Satoru that was now shifting shyly in your arms, trying to get up. “Uh- Hell of a way to run lines, huh? Better check the camera n’ see where to impro-”

He might be one of the biggest actors in modern Hollywood, but Satoru didn’t fool you - not one bit. So without a word, you’re tugging him back to rest against you. Heart lurching just a little bit as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. Like a little hideaway - from the camera, from the world, hell, maybe even from you.

“Y’know,” he flinches ever-so-slightly at your teasing tone, giving you a playful bite. “I have one area of suggestion and it might just be that you’re too good at ‘running lines’.”

“...Good enough to win those five Oscars?”

“No.”

“Then guess I better prove it to ya, huh? Is the camera still on, sweetheart?”

Just then, some weird little part of you thinks that, hell, maybe you don’t hate Gojo Satoru after all.

Not anymore, at least.

---

The Enemies-To-Lovers Trope of The Century?! Hollywood’s Biggest Rivals Sport Matching Hickeys (And Smiles) On-Set of Upcoming Film.

Oops! Gojo Satoru's Phone Wallpaper Accidentally Exposed: Surprise, Surprise It’s His Leading Lady! More on Page 6.

“No Comment. Though, I Have Moved Trailers. Twice.” Anonymous Manager Speaks on Latest Movie Rumors.

Director Is All Smiles As He Raves About Upcoming Romance Movie. “Hell, If I Didn’t Know Any Better I’d Say They Were Really-”

A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.

#gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #tonywrites

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rottentarsoul · 10 months ago

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Have I mentioned I hate being sick?

#[ ashley's words ]#Hi. I'm not dead. Well kinda. But because of the fucking plague I have rn #Everything's pissing me off rn tbh. Some of the others won't shutup and 🧨 is making me consider murder #*🧨 being a close friend of ours #I'm so tired. I'm so sick. I'm so done with all of it. And now I gotta wake up at 7:30 AM. Ugh.

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miserycanary · 9 months ago

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BREAK MY HEART INTO TWO ᡣ𐭩 ⤷ next

pairing: Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley & fem!reader

synopsis: Ghost has been feeling pissed off lately, and happens to lash out on you

tags: slight angst, misunderstandings, very slight mention of violence

He knew he was not in the right headspace. With the newly added task of training new recruits, the dead-end mission, and overall exhaustion. Ghost could feel his patience nearing nothing and he could feel it in his bones that he wouldn’t be able to control himself from lashing out soon— even if it was you.

That’s why he started to distance himself and avoid you like the plague. Only responding with grunts or one-word answers. It’s not the best action but he couldn’t think of anything else. Despite the frustration clouding his mind, he still vows to never hurt you. He promised you that; reassured you that he would never ever raise his voice at you, his hand stroking your back and kissing your temple, after you told him about your past one drunken night.

The first time Simon came home and didn’t immediately wrap his arm around you, nosing the crook of your neck, you knew something was up. You didn’t push the matter though. Brushing it off as something trivial and proceeding to go your usual routine. You did notice things that you never brought up with him: heavy footsteps, the lack of teasing from him, and uncharacteristically never clinging onto you

What finally pushed you to visit the base was when Si, your husband who would go through all levels of hell just to be close to you and never lets a night pass without you with him in bed, suddenly tells you he will be sleeping on the couch. It baffled you. This is the same man who wrapped all his limbs around to keep you from leaving after a big fight. The same man that acts like a big baby when you tell him you’re gonna be away on a work event. Suddenly, the idea of him getting bored of you and finding entertainment with another woman intrusively swirled in your mind.

Were you too loud? Too chatty? Clingy? Maybe you didn’t satisfy him enough. Maybe he wanted a wife available to always cook for him after work. It scared you. You love him; love him enough to change just to keep him.

You needed to talk to him. Whether he likes it or not.

“Price, please. Just call him for me?” The captain looks at you, hesitating. Even though he was aware of Ghost’s thinning temper and didn’t want to put his comrade’s wife in a position that could result in a fight, he also knew that you needed to solve this. He scratches his beard, nervously looking at you.

“Sweetheart, I don’t know. The man.. he.. he hasn’t been the best these days? Maybe you should go home and wait for him—“. You cut him off, “he doesn’t want to talk to me! Please, just 5 minutes and I won’t even cause a scene. I promise!” With a sigh, he finally relents and tells you to stay there while he calls for your husband. You crack a smile, nodding and feeling a sense of relief wash over you.

Moments after being alone, a new recruit (you assume considering you’ve never met this man nor did Simon ever mention him) approaches you with a low wolf whistle. His hands find your waist before you can even comprehend what’s happening, pulling you close to his chest.

“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing here?” You freeze, and disgust starts to bubble up inside of you. You plant your hand on his chest in an attempt to pull away in fear that Simon would witness this and think differently. Before you could say to leave you alone, a voice booms out. A voice you know too well.

“Y/N!” Simon takes three strides and he was near enough to pull the recruit away from you and land a punch. Scandalous gasps went around while the yells of other members went inaudible to you. You stood there in horror as Price stepped in, pushing Ghost away and yelling to stand down. This was not your Simon. Your Simon would never be this violent in front of you— he was too scared to frighten you and do something to push you away. These weren’t the same hands carried you as if a delicate flower he plucked as well. The hands that routinely offers to brush your hair every night and washes you every sex session while he kisses your shoulders, showering you with endless praise with a voice filled with adoration.

Ghost whips his head. His cold stare made you falter, taking a step back. Something you never thought you’d do when faced with him. You could see his mask move, undoubtedly hiding his disappointment and furrowed eyebrows.

“What are you doing here?” He seethes, roughly gripping your arm tight enough to leave a bruise.

“I-I... I wanted to see you—“ Before you could even finish, Ghost groans with frustration. “I fucking told you to not come to the base. Were you even thinking? Use that pea-sized brain of yours once in a while! Just.. leave me alone and go home.”

Silence. The whole base quiets down with his words, a tense atmosphere building up. You freeze. From the corner of your eye, you notice Price’s contort with concern and hesitation if he should meddle.

The pain you felt was indescribable. It was as if Ghost took your heart and crushed it with his bare hands. Your breathing got labored, your eyes flicked down, taking deep breaths to hold back tears. Before the realization has fully settled, you pull away from Ghost, mumbling something incoherent. In that moment, Ghost knew he fucked up. He hurt his darling flower. He hurt the only person he treasured. The person that stayed with him through thick and thin. The person he married, vowed in front of God to love forever and to never hurt.

“No, baby— I didn’t mean to—“

You cut him off, telling him you were going back just like he wanted. You didn’t even call it your home. You always do. Saying it with pride to have something to call home with him.

God, what has he done?

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱: dare I say this man needs a break :} Second part is out. Little detail: I use ‘Simon’ during Y/N’s pov and Ghost for the rest, but used Ghost for her after he yelled at her. :3

dividers by @cafekitsune

Please reblog!! Ask is open!

⟢ taglist is open!! Comment if you want to be tagged in the next posts.

check out my other works in the masterlist: ୭!

#simon ghost riley #ghost cod #ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #cod x reader #cod mwii #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod #simon riley x you #simon riley cod #light angst #ghost mw2 #ghost angst #ghost fic #simon ghost x you #canary’s melodies

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secretlovezz · 6 months ago

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Whiplash

Eddie Munson x Fem!reader

Summary: you've been avoiding Eddie like the plague and he's desperate to figure out what he's done to deserve it.

Warnings: hurt/comfort?? idk, kissing, fluffy ending, pining, idiots in love, use of y/n, she/her pronouns used for reader, reader is a crybaby ig idk she reacted how I would soooo, lmk if i missed anything!

Wordcount: 2010

A/N: Not really proofread and kind of written in a rush cause I wasn't feeling it about halfway through so sorry if you can tell 😞

You weren't there... again.

Your absence from your usual seat to the left of Eddie leaves him in a deep state of confusion his eyebrows furrowing in thought. This was the fifth day without your presence at his side, almost an entire week without your voice giddily telling him about the book you were reading or a new recipe you've tried, almost an entire week of being deprived of that perfect little gleam in your eyes when you looked at him rambling about something you enjoyed, and his heart ached in deprivation.

And because of this, he could with full confidence say you were avoiding him- but as to why he had no idea.

Eddie's silent at the lunch table staring at nothing in particular, and though the guys -especially the freshman- had finally learned to normalize Eddie's peculiar-ness and oddities this new silence and bleak aura had them surprised. He was stuck in his head racking through everything that's happened in the last week that could have possibly scared you away from him.

He thinks about the time he asked you for help with his math homework, but that couldn't be it considering that definitely was not the first time he'd asked and definitely was not the first time you'd happily agreed to do so. He reminisces about when he'd come to visit you during your shift at the local library in boredom playfully bothering you as you re-placed books onto the shelf.

He thinks and thinks and thinks but nothing comes to mind for your sudden evasion.

"Dude, you think any harder and steam will come out of your ears," Gareth rolls his eyes at Eddie, "What the hell's wrong with you anyway?"

Eddie leans back in his chair and dramatically throws his head back to look at the ceiling, his hair flows behind him and moves as people walk by, "She's avoiding me."

Dustin's head snaps up, still chewing his food he inserts himself into the conversation, "Who? Y/N? I just talked to her last period, she seemed fine," He shrugged.

At that Eddies head pops back up, eyes locking with Dustin's in a way that leaves the younger boy cringing, and the crease between his brows intensifies, "So she's still talking to you guys but not me?" He starts to pout a little by the end of his question.

Everyone sends looks to each other before slowly nodding and Eddie's forehead loudly makes contact with the cafeteria table, the guys wince in response.

"Well... have you tried- I don't know, asking her about it?"

The glare sent in Mikes direction after his question almost makes him apologize. Eddie heatedly scratches his head and groans in irritation; he'd tried more than a handful of times to get ahold of you, tried more than enough times to just hear your voice again but nothing worked. When he waited by your locker you would walk the other way, when he called you, you hung up as soon as you heard his voice, and worst of all you would throw out the little notes he sent you in class as you walked out and away from him once again.

"Duh! Of course I have," Eddies reply is laced with annoyance and frustration, "But I can't ask her anything if she keeps running away- I mean come on! She won't even look at me, man." His voice is soft and emotional when speaking his last sentence, He runs his hand over his face weakly and suddenly he feels like he's being pitied. He doesn't want that.

He hastily moves to pick up his things, thrusting the items into his little lunch box with more force than necessary with a pout on his tired face before standing from his seat and angrily walking away across the cafeteria, from the table and the others. They all sigh when he makes it past the cafeteria doors and after a silent moment Jeff is the first who speaks up, "So- When do you guys think they'll get over themselves and finally get together?"

《----------♡

When the last bell rings after what feels like years to Eddie he's swiftly making his way out of class and out of the building, but now what time would usually be spent merrily walking to his car and making plans to see you during the weekend was spent instead making his way into the woods strolling past trees and going to the little picnic table placed in that clearing he visits every once in awhile.

He stares at the ground and his feet as he treads, kicking rocks, stones, and branches on the way.

Eddies just about there just a few trees away from the clearing before he hears footsteps other than his own a little ways ahead of him he pauses head finally lifting to look in front of him and waits to see who appears.

To his surprise you pop into his vision and his round, brown eyes widen. He goes to take a step forward his body automatically and urgently trying to get to you, desperately needing to be near the drug that is you, but he stops himself to observe.

You sit at the table and pull a book out from the satchel bag at your side and a humorous huff leaves through his nose, his face relaxing and lips curling up at the sight of you doing something you often enthusiastically spoke to him about before realizing that its a book he does not recognize, that you had started a new one, and you hadn't told him like you usually would have. The thought wipes the smile from his face in an instant and his brows furrow for the nth time that day.

He steps forward and does not stop himself this time, sauntering toward you almost as angrily has he had left the cafeteria without your knowledge as you are already too engrossed in whatever new story you were traveling into. When he sits across from you at the table you feel it shift with the added weight and at last realize that you are no longer alone.

When you eventually look up, placing your thumb in-between the pages you were reading to keep your place, your heart drops at the sight of the frustrated man in front of you. You try to move away but he quickly grabs your wrist urging you to sit back down, you look at him again and the anguish written on his face makes you find your seat.

Your gaze moves to your lap and Eddie doesn't let you go too afraid you run away again.

Eddie is the one to break the stifling silence, "Talk to me... please?" The sound of his voice makes your heart ache so guiltily it hurts, "Just- Just tell what I did wrong- tell me so I can fix it."

Though your mouth opens to respond nothing comes out and your eyes gloss over with salty tears. Eddie's hold on your wrist moves to your hand gently cupping it in his calloused palm while his thumb moves to continuously swipe over your warm skin.

Your cheeks warm at the intimate contact and it only makes your eyes well with my tears reminding you of why you were ignoring him in the first place.

"When you-," You struggle to get the words out of your closing throat but Eddie still listens patiently, "Last time... you- you did something. It wasn't a big deal to you- but um... to me it- it meant a lot and that's kind of the problem."

The brunette across from you leans in closer and tilts his head in confusion, "What did I do?"

You glance to the side in embarrassment but Eddie's thumb taps you twice to bring your attention back to the conversation, "Talk to me Princess; Tell me what I did so we can go back to normal, I miss my best friend."

You didn't want to go back to normal.

For the first time in days your eyes connect with Eddie's and you take in a shaky breath at the sight of his enchanting eyes. "You uh- you kissed me..."

Now he's confused. He had kissed you? When? He's sure he would remember finally getting to kiss you.

Your free hand travels to your cheek and it all clicks for him, the pieces falling into place. He can't help but let out a chuckle of amusement; you were right- he had kissed you, kissed you on your cheek, that is, a sweet little peck against your skin. His laughter dies out when you rip your hand from his, the tears in your eyes spilling over.

Eddie stands and rounds the table to you, "Hey hey I- I'm I shouldn't have laughed. Don't cry, sweetheart." His hands place themselves on your elbows as your hands move to cover your face. He starts to feel like that little kiss really did more than he had thought.

"Did it make you uncomfortable? I won't do it again I promise," You shake your head at his words, "Talk to me, baby."

"Don't do that! Don't call me those names if you don't mean it," Eddies eyes go wide at your outburst and his mouth opens to speak but you beat him to it, "you- you kiss me and call me those names and I- It's just too much... I like you too much."

All too quickly Eddie is forcefully removing your hands from your face and cupping your cheeks thumbing the tears from your skin, "I like you too much too."

"Don't be mean Eddie."

He connects his forehand to yours, both of your eyes closing at the closeness, "M'not, would never joke about that." His soft pink lips brush gently against yours as he speaks and your breath hitches. Your lips part slightly and your cold breath fans Eddie's face. "How can I show you I mean it hm? How 'bout... a real kiss?" He mutters. You nod all too briskly for someone who was just crying and it makes Eddie smile.

In the fullness of time Eddie presses his lips to yours and when he finally gets the taste of your lips on his he realizes he's waited entirely too long to do this despite being willing to wait an eternity for you. He's been starving for the absolute goddess that is you, now getting to satisfy that hunger digging in with no resistance and sliding his tongue past your lips flushed against him. The ache he had felt without you there fading once and for all as you kissed him back. Your hands atop his squeeze as a noise escapes the back of your throat and Eddie kisses you deeper at your audible reaction. He wants to consume you, wants to keep you so close you never leave his side, he needs it- needs you and makes sure it shows in the way he kisses you.

When he pulls away your both panting for air, Eddie's grin is smug on the top of your head and your arms are wrapped around him.

"I can't believe you made me feel like shit for an entire week just cause I gave you a lil' kiss on the cheek," Eddie mocked trying to get a quick quip in.

"Shut up! It totally freaked me out."

His loud cackle echoed in your ears and you smiled, pulling him closer and pressing your nose into his skin. Eddie's arms moved to wrap around you as well and his large hands snake around you also trying to squeeze you impossibly closer. He presses a fast peck on your cheek, then your temple, and then the top of your head. Eddie takes a deep breath inhaling the scent of you- memorizing it.

"Promise you won't do that to me again. Don't leave me alone like that again."

"I won't Eds, I promise."

"Besides! What are you going to do without me here being oh so entertaining huh?"

You laugh, "I have no idea."

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deathbxnny · 11 days ago

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Arcane women seeing you again after cheating on you. | Vi, Caitlyn, Sevika x Gn!Reader

(Part 1)

Here is the part 2 that you guys asked for! I hope you'll like it!<3

Summary: Arcane women see you after they cheated on you a year ago. How will you react to seeing them again? And most importantly, who's that person you're with that seems to have stolen your heart from them?

Content: TW!Past cheating, angst, jealousy, swearing, probably ooc, sfw

Reader has no mentioned pronouns.

((Not proofread))

》VI

She never got over you.

It didn't matter how much time passed or how long she spent trying to forget you. You were always there at the forefront of her mind. And it drove her mad, not to know where you were. She looked all over for you after the mission, yet it seemed like you had disappeared off the face of earth, never to be seen again even during the war. Vi couldn't even find you in the aftermath of it, her heart empty and broken without you.

Her relationship with Caitlyn was practically non-existent now, as the woman felt near insecure of Vi's idealistic image of you she could never compare to. It was depressing and toxic until it eventually blew up in her face, and the Kirammann distanced herself as well for good.

And now the woman was alone.

Your words rang true, and yet you weren't even here to tell her, "I told you so". She had lost everyone she loved, being driven mad by the solitude she had brought onto herself. It was unfair and unjust, even if some of it was deserved. Just some. Eventually, the sadness turned into anger over the last year. Anger towards you. Why couldn't you be here after what happened? Why didn't you understand that it was a mistake? Hadn't she atoned for her sins enough? What else did she have to lose for you to come back? Rage, frustration, irritation. It all plagued her, as she thought of how your meeting would go if she ever sees you again.

But nothing she ever prepared was enough for when it did happen. She never thought it would. She never thought she'd see you again. And yet there you were, happily holding onto another person's arm, as you beamed up at them. You never looked like that with her. You were never this bright and giggly at her side. There was always something to be stressed about. There was always something to argue about. There was always something that made you frown around her. Whether it was because of the circumstances you were in or her own actions, you were never content.

So she stood there, in the shadows, as she gazed at you intensely from under her hood. For a moment, she considered just turning and leaving, but the internalized rage was bubbling up dangerously. She lived with survivors guilt every single day, and you go to have your happy ending? She couldn't believe it. She couldn't ever dream of you moving on from her. Marching up to you, your partner saw her first before you did, their eyes hardening protectively. Pulling you closer, they stood unmoving in the face of doom. "Can we help you?" They asked when she was close enough, but her words died on her tongue when your eyes met hers. And then there was deafening silence.

"I..." "Vi. What the hell do you want?" You hissed out, clearly not having it. You were sick of her after what happened. You, therefore, refused to let her wedge herself into your life ever again. "Actually, I don't care. Get lost." You tried pushing past her with your partner, but she wasn't moving. Instead, she blocked your way. "Please just... hear me out! I've lost everyone whilst you're out here fucking around with some randoms! Do you know how long I've looked for you? How much I've suffered?" You stopped your lover from saying anything with a hand against their chest. You can handle this.

"And I get that I fucked up! But don't think that you're completely innocent in this either." She was breathing heavily, the slightest smug relief filling her at finally saying what she had always dreamt of... but alas, you gave her the most unimpressed look possible as you scoffed. And then you began laughing. Right in her face. "Hah... that was funny... anyways, as I was saying, get lost." Finally being able to push past her, you two casually continued doing your shopping as though nothing happened.

She was left behind in shock at your uninterested reaction, as the realisation finally set in that she truly has lost everything.

》CAITLYN

The aftermath of the war was nothing short of agony to everyone, especially to Caitlyn, who had yet to find a trace of you. Last she heard, you left the city via skyship and disappeared into the blue skies forever, leaving her behind for good. It was miserable to live without you, near unbearable, and yet she kept it together with the smallest hope for your return to her.

It was pure delusion to everyone but her to hold onto such a ridiculous wish, considering she was the cause of it.

She lies awake at night thinking of your heartbroken gaze, the memory, and the words lulling her to sleep in tears. And a year later, the day of your disappearance felt as vivid as ever, as though no time passed. She could never move on. Never rest for as long as she couldn't tell you about how remorseful she felt. You were right in not trusting Maddie for a multitude of reasons. But she was so stuck in her ways due to the grief and pain that she lost the best thing that happened to her. The one person that kept her together and sane.

How was she ever going to live on now?

Whenever she did sleep, she dreamt of you coming back to her, allowing her to apologize and move on from everything she had done. It was perhaps selfish, and she was at least self-aware enough to acknowledge that, but it didn't matter to her in the long run. She just wanted you back no matter what. It didn't matter how or when. She just had to have you. And as though the gods momentarily heard her prayers, a small part of her wish finally came true after twelve long months of waiting.

There you were, under the sparkling lights of the ballroom, happily conversing with long-lost friends as you sipped on a refreshing drink. She had heard the rumor of your return a while ago, skillfully ignoring the part mentioning your unknown companion, and made sure to attend this grand event best dressed, of course.

If you saw her, then you didn't turn to even glance at her once.

She understood why but wouldn't let the opportunity to fix things slip out of her fingers now. You were so close. So unbearably close at last. Cait approached you carefully, a simple clearing of her throat being enough to drive your company away for some privacy. And you were clearly not happy about that. But as usual, she ignored your disdain for her own gain unknowingly. "It's nice to see you again." She was hiding how excited she was, practically bursting at the seams with how hard she was containing it. Your reply was less thrilling, however. "Unfortunately so... I have nothing to say to you, so leave me be, lest my partner has to see you out." You huffed, a frown hiding behind your glass.

Dumbfounded and blinking, she raised a brow in surprise. Partner? Were the rumors true after all? She was in denial. Very deep denial at that. She must be hearing it wrong, yes, that's it! "I... I beg your pardon? Partner? As in companion or...?" She must've looked silly and disheveled as she stumbled over her words like a drunk. A hand pressing against her shoulder made her pause, as she felt a very irritated presence behind her. "It seems that the wine is getting to you, Ms. Kirammann. I believe it is, therefore, time for your departure. The car's outside." Your dearest partner has come to your rescue. And it seemed that this was a setup for your own small revenge.

Your lover owned this estate. It completely slipped Caitlyn's mind in her haste to get to you. How funny.

You hid in their side, wanting her out already, and the Kirammann decided to keep the last of her dignity intact by leaving with a curt nod. She definitely cried in the cab, though, unable to complain that all her waiting was for nothing.

You were never coming back to her.

》SEVIKA

If you fuck around, you'll certainly also find out.

That was your life motto, something you lived by and your enemies feared about you. Sevika often found it amusing to watch you enforce this to those willing to face your wrath, a certain pride welling in her chest at the pure violence you could display. Until she became the receiver of it. The scar on the back of her head proved it and left a bit of a bald patch, a constant reminder of what she had done. Also, a great humiliation tactic on your end, she has to give you that.

But that's all she had left of you too.

You up and left without a trace a year ago, and made sure she'd never see a glimpse of you again. The war came and ended, resulting in her becoming a councilor, but even then, nothing she did drew you back to her. You were supposed to share this glory with her, but she knew she was the reason why you didn't. She wasn't delusional or in denial about it. No, she was a grown woman who just made a stupid mistake, in her humble opinion. Nothing more or less. So why couldn't you see the same?

It was impossible to track you down, and for a while, she thought that you may have left the city entirely a while ago. Maybe you even died in the war somewhere. She didn't know what was worse, but either thought kept her up up night to ponder about all the what ifs.

If she hadn't done what she had done... would you still be laying at her side sound asleep? Would you be proud of her and support her for finally achieving her goals? Would you praise her? Love her? Cherish her so loyally like you used to? You were absolutely right in the end, after all. She never will and never wanted to find someone else like you. She wanted you and only you from day one, but it all seemed like a distant dream now.

And then, when she was just about to move on from you by force, you appeared in her life again so casually. You were dressed in foreign clothes, a content and sweet look on your face, as you conversed with your partner, who just so happens to be an emperor of a different land.

They have come here for some trade negotiations with the council, and of course, you had to come along. Their sweet, stunning spouse they couldn't talk enough of. Your partner spoke of the riches they spoiled you with, the endless servants at your feet, the way they too were very clearly wrapped around your bejeweled fingers.

You pretended not to know her, practically avoiding her gaze as you held onto your lover tightly as they talked away. God did it hurt her, too. She was burning up in jealousy, her gaze hardened and angry enough to make the other councilors scoot away from her.

And when she saw your partner give her an evil, knowing grin, she finally realised that this was all on purpose. Your spouse couldn't give less of a shit about Piltover. They just wanted to get back at Sevika for what she had done to you, just out of pure spite. She can't do anything about it either, something she acknowledged in defeat.

Her heart was empty and broken, but she'd never admit it, as she simply concluded the meeting and took her leave. If you were happy... then she supposed she'd be content with it, too.

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roach-works · 8 months ago

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im working on a thought here but i think a crucial component of supporting and advocating for liberal and progressive ideas is you have to trust people to muddle through mistakes. i see a lot of people that clearly want *safety* for marginalized people but their proposals amount to putting everyone in a padded room with their hands on a well lit table forever. we have to sanitize media, we have to protect people. we can't hurt anyone, we can't risk anyone-- but we can constantly constantly surveil each other and make new rules against ever doing the wrong things. you know, the bad things, the dirty things, the things that hurt you and make you sick and ruin everything for everyone forever. it's our moral duty, isn't it? to make the world cleaner and brighter and safer?

i think, probably, it would help a lot of us to take a deep breath and consider that you have to make mistakes in life. and so does everyone else. you learn things and you fuck up and you pull through. and you can warn people, if you think they're going to make a mistake, but i don't think you have a right to stop them from doing whatever damn fool thing they're up to.

i think that's what's really bothering me about current progressive discourse, and a lot of the proposed policies. a lot of kids are really scared right now that any single mistake is fatal, and while they're not totally wrong-- the economy sucks, there's still a plague going on, and america is a carceral panopticon--it's still not their *right* let alone their moral obligation to build a system where no one has the freedom to fuck up.

i don't know what the solution is here. a world with more resources would be great. a world with less deadly risk, too. but i'd settle for a world where we recognized and applauded everyone's human right to do weird stupid bullshit and learn better--or not--on their own time.

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thebestsetter · 4 months ago

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"If I was a color, I think I'd be yellow"

"Why?"

"Non-important. I just feel it"

He has never seen yellow the same way again. It was everywhere. He looked for it everywhere. And everytime, without fail, he remembered you. A pretty sunflower. Your blinding smile. A little minion figure he saw on the mall. You crying after watching the latest "Despicable Me" movie (and him laughing at your cute stupid crying face). A silly Winnie the Pooh keychain on a crying child's backpack. You talking to the said sad kid you both saw on the street and trying to cheer them up, playing with them and making sure they were smiling, their worries melting away in the speed of light (you'd make such a great mother, he thinks, making his face grow bright red right after). The sun in all of it's glory. You. You. You. You.

You were like a plague infecting his brain and soul. He couldn't focus on anything anymore because you were always running through his head, the sound of your laugh playing inside his mind 24/7 and driving him half insane. He couldn't take it anymore. He had to ask you why you said to him you were yellow. How did you know? What made you so sure of it? Why you had put him under this spell in which everytime he catches just the smallest and quickest glimpse of yellow, the image of you came flooding his mind and senses? Did you even think about him the same amount of times he thought about you? He didn't know. He couldn't know unless he asked you. And it was not fair. Not fair at all.

"Remember that day you told me you were yellow?"

"Yeah" you said, stopping mid-sip of your milkshake and looking at him with your beautiful a confused face "Yeah, I do. Why?"

"You never gave me an answer to the question I asked you that day" he ignored how the first sentence you said made his heart fluster and his stomach go silly.

"Which question?" How humilliating. He's gonna have to swallow his pride and repeat it. Utterly ridiculous.

"Why?" He couldn't care less about how hurt his ego was right now "Actually, how. How did you know you're yellow?"

"Easy. It's 'cause yellow and purple are opposites, so they look good when put together"

"What?"

"Yellow and purple are on opposite sides of the color wheel, silly! So they're complementary colors and go well together"

"I know that. But what does purple have to do with you being yellow?"

"You remind me of purple"

And suddenly, he realized yellow has never been alone. Next to the beautiful sunflower, there's a bellflower, that looks gloom when compared to the yellow plant, but basks in the joy it seems to bring nonetheless. Just like you are the one to bring joy to his life. Beside the minion figure, there's a figure of those bad purple minions, and while one is considered pretty, funny and nice, the other one is scary, angry and people tend to avoid them. It reminds him of you two: extroverted and kind you and introverted and rude him. Perfect opposites. Perfect together. He hadn't noticed before, but the child's backpack was purple, and this memory was followed by the the sound of the laughs you and the little fella shared. Kids should always be happy, smiling, harmless and having fun. Comfortable. Safe. In that way, you make him feel like a little kid. Your warm embrace, so protective and oh so motherly. He feels relaxed around you. Overjoyed. And even though he doesn't smile a lot, you always seem to make him want to crack a real, big grin. It must be a superpower of yours. Lastly, the sun, always followed by the moon. Even though they don't "meet" often, when they do, they create one of the prettiest phenomena known to humanity: an eclipse. They're always apart, but when they're together, it's so beautiful that the whole world stops to see.

"That's cringy. And kinda stupid."

"No it's not! We're a perfect duo! Just admit it!!"

"'Course we are"

"What did you say? I didn't quite hear you!!"

"I'm not saying it again."

So don't act surprised when your wedding is full of beautiful sunflowers and bellflowers. You should see it coming. They look good together right? Just like you two.

RIN ITOSHI, Kunigami Rensuke, Nagi Seishiro, MICHAEL KAISER, Barou Shohei, SAE ITOSHI, TODOROKI SHOTO, SHINSOU HITOSHI, BAKUGOU KATSUKI, USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI, KAGEYAMA TOBIO, TSUKISHIMA KEI (his name's kanji meaning moon is just so-- perfect fot this fic) , Osamu Miya, Suna Rintarou, MEGUMI FUSHIGURO + any character you think fits this!!

Curiosity!!!: Bellflowers mean "everlasting love and commitment" in flower language, while sunflowers mean steadfast love!!

Masterlist

Wrote this in the middle of my portuguese class. I hate it. I'm in love with him

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lovscb97 · 11 days ago

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tags: nerd!chan x cheerleader!fem!reader, angst angst angst, mentions of jealousy and self doubt, inner turmoil on y/n’s side (forgive my girl she’s trying her best), mentions of other idols (enhypen, aespa, stayc, etc), alcohol usage, more angst…, slight inclusion of depressive feelings and thoughts, confrontation, arguments, confessions, kissing, fluff, brief grinding/dry humping, oral (m. receiving), brief throat fucking, car sex, mentions of virginity loss, unprotected sex (plz don’t i beg), creampie, just sweet lovemaking, use of nicknames (baby, channie, pretty girl, etc), chan being a sweetheart (when is he not), etc

wc: 15.76k

add. notes: it is finally here!!! the long awaited pt. 2 of nerd!chan!!! thank u guys so much once more for all the love u gave to the first part i did Not expect it to gain that much traction to the point u guys wanted me to expand on the universe of it but i am grateful nonetheless <3 i’m also very sorry it took so long i just could not bring myself to write the whole thing in one sitting as it is decently long so thank u sm for waiting as well.. this fic is honestly my baby n while it was very frustrating to work on at times, i hope u all enjoy it n will give it lots of love for me :]

nerd!chan pt. 1 / nerd!chan headcannons

. . .

it’s been a few days since you last saw chan after your “encounter” in the locker room. granted how that might be primarily because you’ve been avoiding him like the plague ever since, but you suppose he also hasn’t done much to try and meet you. you’re not even sure why you’re doing this, and if you’re being honest, some part of it leaves a sense of dread lingering at the back of your mind, your thoughts swirling with what if’s that consist of wondering if he’s finally had enough after the way you walked out on him the previous time you guys were, err.. entangled, to say the least. but, you know; you know you’re not at liberty to feel this way, not when you’re the one who’s imposed these rules on yourself and whatever means of a relationship you’ve both got going on. it’s not your right to police how chan acts around you after you constantly push him away. you think it probably never was to begin with.

regardless of the consequences that you’ve reaped, you decided to forego the situation you’re stuck in and throw yourself into the one solution that always seems to find you when you’re rock bottom in the barrel— alcohol. your cheer girls had tried dragging you out once more to another party thrown by some guy called jake, and initially you’d declined, far too stuck in your own negativity to even consider going out and letting loose at this point, but karina insisted on you tagging along, practically yanking you to you guys’ shared dorm room and dolling you up in the cutest outfit possible that had even your low spirits lifting.

that is, until now.

you’d both arrived to the occasion half an hour prior to the incident, your friend basically pulling you in behind her and forcing you to socialise with people she knew even if all you contributed to the discussion was a small smile and greeting. however, at some point, you lose sight of her. it doesn’t alarm you much considering karina goes around on her own to do her thing a lot, so assuming she must be busy chatting it up with some guy, you shrug and make your way towards the kitchen to fix yourself a drink. and it’s when you’re in the middle of tossing back the red solo cup filled with bitter liquid and letting it burn as it goes down your throat, wincing despite the tinge of sweetness to it when it happens, no less when you see it—

chan.

but, not just chan, no no.

chan with another girl.

it’s immediate the way your hand which is gripping the beverage in it tightens on instinct, and you feel a surge of emotion wash over you that you can’t identify, or rather you don’t want to identify it. arrays of questions swirl in your mind at the sight in front of you, ranging from ‘what is he doing here after claiming he hates parties?’ to ‘did they come together?’. the last of your queries almost makes you want to throw up, the plausibility that chan was invited here by another woman leaving bile forming at the back of your throat. still, you pause momentarily to consider the possibility that this is a mere coincidence, that you’re just misunderstanding the scene playing out in front of you and that this is all a big joke and chan is going to turn around to leave at any point now.

but, then your eyes land on the way she caresses his arm, batting her eyelashes up at him and watching the way her actions cause his ears to tint red, the very same ears you’ve been responsible for making blush every occasion that you find yourselves together. and suddenly, it’s like everything in your world is spinning. the floor seems to be moving, the music fading out and everyone passing around becomes a blur, because your only focus is on chan.

your chan. your chan who isn’t yours.

it’s like he senses you looking at him too, because he stops mid-sentence out of the blue and turns his head in your direction, leaving your gazes to lock with each other’s. it has his eyes widening, and you don’t know whether that’s from simply seeing you or seeing the fact that you’re standing in the middle of the kitchen alone with trembling hands you hadn’t even noticed were shaking. you try so desperately to look away, to avert your stare from his brown orbs that seem to be swirling with something you can’t quite put your finger on, but it doesn’t work. he’s so.. captivating, dressed in casual clothes and his signature glasses that remain perched on the tip of his nose, the same nose you’ve kissed so many times in your heated state of affairs. you’ve always known chan is beautiful, though you’ve never admitted it, but something about today solidifies it in your mind even more, makes him look ever so mesmerising, ever so alluring, and ever so.. distant.

you feel like someone has dumped a cold bucket of water on top of your head when the last word resonates in your mind, and you somehow rip your eyes off of the boy standing across the room to avoid impulsively doing something you might regret, instead opting to go look for your friends. a cacophony of taunts torment your brain as you busy yourself in the futile task, varying from insults thrown against you for being so stupid to think this could ever work out to questions about why you’re doing this even if you don’t know the response to them, or rather you do but don’t want to answer them. you don’t know whether chan is still looking at or for you, and some sick, twisted part of you wishes he is, wishes that he’s so wrecked by the idea that he’s hurt you even though you have no right to feel that way.

allowing yourself one last glance to where he was previously situated to satisfy the lingering emotions inside, you turn around, confused when you don’t find him there until a loud voice calls out for him throughout the booming of the music in the room, making your head snap in its direction. it belongs to who you presume is his friend, changbin or whatever you recall from a study session turned to a late night conversation chan had initiated to get to know you better. he’s yelling something incoherent that you can’t make out through the noise levels of the house, and you’re about to shake your head and resume your previous activity when you notice chan being dragged onto the dance floor, no less by the girl who you’d found talking to him.

your heart instantly sinks into your chest at the picture in front of you, burning against your ribcage as the pounding in your head increases by the minute. chan’s smile is radiant, spread wide across his face as he tries to awkwardly mimic the gestures being made by everyone around him. if you were in a different predicament, you would’ve found it endearing regardless of whether you would’ve let yourself relish in that realisation or not internally, but right now, all you can focus on is the fact that it’s not you. it’s not you who’s making him laugh so bright, it’s not you who’s dragging your hands across his to place them on your waist, and it’s not you who’s captivated his attention in the moment, even if you so desperately wish it was.

“y/n?”

a voice drags you out of your mind, and you shake your head to find karina looking at you in worry, her hand coming up to gently place itself on your shoulder. she questions if you’re okay a second later, and you muster up a smile the best you can and nod, despite the churning in your stomach only growing worse at the existence of what you’d just witnessed a few meters away from you. “what’s up?” you decide to ask your friend instead, sensing the way she doesn’t seem to buy your response reassuring her you’re fine, but even so, she decides not to push you, instead pursing her lips and pointing her thumb behind her.

“heeseung and his friends are going to play a round of beer pong. wanna join them?” the last thing you want to do is indulge with other people, instead wishing you were cooped up under your blanket to wallow in your self misery all alone, but the way karina looks back at you with distress in her eyes, her pretty face contorted in concern for you only pushes you to put up a front, not wanting to alarm her any further. “yeah, let’s go. i wanna get wasted.” you grin with everything in you, and it seems to be enough with the way your friend beams back at you, taking your hand in hers before whisking you away to wherever the game is taking place. you still cast one last glance back behind your shoulder before she drags you away though, hoping to catch sight of chan once more, but he’s nowhere to be seen.

you think maybe that’s best for now.

. . .

it’s one in the afternoon when you wake up the next day, a dull throbbing present in your head as you clutch it with one hand, groggy eyes attempting to adjust to the light streaming through the barely drawn curtains of your dorm room. you slowly sit up and lean back against the pillow underneath that’s probably caught remnants of your makeup on it after last night, especially considering the fact that you hadn’t even bothered taking off the outfit you wore yesterday before crashing out in bed. giving yourself some time to get used to your every day surroundings, you take a peek over to the other side, noticing karina’s bed to be empty. she’d probably gone for classes, you think to yourself, cursing when you realise you had most definitely missed your own.

grabbing your phone off the nightstand, you unlock it, ready to shoot a text to your friends asking for any notes they’d taken in the lecture, only to find the messaging app already open. you scroll through your group chats in confusion, flicking through the several photos or videos people had taken and shared in hopes of remembering why you’d even left off on this. it wasn’t like you’d sent any embarrassing messages in them, the only evidence of your own responses being from two days ago. you try rack your brain for the last possible memory of last night, recalling yourself stumbling through the door and into bed, drinking with sieun and sunghoon during the game before that, and then opening your phone to record drunken voice notes to send to—

oh fuck.

“no, no, no, no, no, please.” you mumble to yourself in panic, eyes widening with horror as you frantically swipe out of the group chat threads and check your last sent texts. you flick furiously through the notifications in your phone, trying to find the one chat you’re looking for until the name you’re searching pops up. you close your eyes, covering your screen to try and calm down your nerves, praying to whatever entity is up there that your memory is mistaken and that you indeed did not do what you think you did. after a short minute, you take a deep breath, cracking your vision open as your fingers twitch. you hesitantly move your thumb that’s blocking your desired end goal out of the way to take a look at last, and—

“shit!” you swear with a yell, tossing your phone aside in favour of cupping your face in your hands and screaming into them out of frustration. you hadn’t even bothered to listen to the voice notes knowing they’d just consist of spewed gibberish the same as the texts, and ultimately what makes this entire ordeal all the more worse is chan’s lack of a reply. rather, he’d left you on seen, the realisation of it dawning on you as you flop back in bed and roll to the side to curl yourself up into a ball as if it’d provide some sort of comfort, mindless thoughts rushing into your brain at the very same.

what does chan think of you now? what did he think of you when he got those texts? was he annoyed? did he want to cut you off forever and finally drop you for good? maybe he laughed about your pathetic attempts to gain back his attention with the girl you’d seen him with yesterday. the idea only makes you want to throw up, although you can’t tell if it’s because of that or your splitting hangover. so, in an effort to drown in your self pity anyways, you yank the covers of your blanket over your head, trying to lull yourself back to sleep now that you’ve already missed out on your attendance.

unfortunately, your attempts don’t last long, the device you’d flung to the edge of your bed ringing with your roommate’s call shortly after in which she scolds you for still not having woken up. you bite back the answer that threatens to escape you when she proceeds to go on a tangent on how this is probably because you’ve been looking so dull lately, not having it in yourself to open up to your closest friend about the fact that you’ve secretly suppressed all your innermost feelings about somebody outside your social circe in fear they’d rise to the surface and force you to do things you’d never do sober.

karina eventually ends her rant with urging you to come to the building at least to meet up for lunch, convincing you in your very much hungover state that you need something in your stomach, to which you begrudgingly agree. dragging yourself out of bed to put on some simple clothes and trudging outside the door in all your miserable glory is a task in itself, but you manage somehow. you can’t help but grumble to yourself as you parade the halls of the student accommodation with only one goal in mind— avoid chan at all cost.

fate, however, is not on your side, it seems.

because the minute you step out and about underneath the midday sun, your eyes fixated on the cobblestone path underneath your feet which leads to the university buildings located right outside the student housing, you stop dead in your tracks, stumbling upon a certain scene—

the certain scene in question being chan with his very same arm candy from yesterday.

your breath hitches in your throat at the sight, and it’s like you’re glued to the ground, unmoving as if you’ve turned static and become bound to the floor. chan doesn’t seem to have noticed you yet from your spot that’s metres away from him, too busy focusing on conversing with the girl to even look up and catch his surroundings. you wonder if that’s because she’s his girlfriend, or someone he’s interested in given the fact that he seems so engaged with her and how you’ve caught them together so many times by now (twice, actually, but in your head it seems like a much bigger number), and in all honesty, that just makes everything all the more worse.

you don’t even understand why you’re so upset about this. you wanted chan to not cling to you, or a better way of putting it instead is that you weren’t ready for him to do so. you wanted to save him the heartbreak that would come from becoming entangled with you, warning him right at the start implicitly in the way you ran from him that you weren’t going to share anything deeper than whatever you guys had. in some twisted way, you think maybe that was your idea of trying to be a good person when you knew you weren’t. even so, the fact that he could become attached to you alongside your lack of an ability to commit to you guys’ messed up relationship was terrifying. you were aware it would leave him hurt in the end, alone and stuck onto you, and that scared you in ways you’d never been.

it also scared you to think chan might see something more in you, might find something worth sticking around for; that in turn, he’d manage to change the perspective you have of yourself due to the fact that he was so.. so good. too good, maybe. because the crux of it all is that you two are from such different worlds, with different needs and different lives that just so happened to become mingled amongst each other. you found him by chance encounter, not having even known his name a few months back, and now you’re here, shamelessly tormented by the fact that the boy you didn’t want to hurt is unknowingly hurting you despite the fact that you have no right to be hurt by him. you knew from the start mixing up with someone like him didn’t make sense. it never would make sense. you’d always thought that these circumstances would be the cause of chan’s own downfall, that he was just running in a losing race.

oh, how the tables have turned, you think.

“see you around, channie.” you hear from the corner, the voice snapping you out of your inner dilemma in mere moments as you come to realise it belongs to ‘that’ girl. you think your heart rate physically spikes when you watch the way she winks at him, gently touching chan’s arm before brushing past him to walk away. part of you feels relieved that she’s gone, but another part of you can’t ignore how your stomach swirls in disgust at the way she behaves around him, or rather the way it flusters him in return. you don’t miss the burning red of chan’s ears or how he shakes his head to try recover out of it, especially not because of how it makes you feel disgusted. it’s so much so that in the midst of everything, you don’t even realise his head is springing up in your direction until his eyes are locked with yours once more, just like the night before.

white, coarse shock flashes through you, and you’d think your frozen body would finally listen when you see chan making his way over to you. instead, you stand there like an idiot, akin to a kicked puppy even with the way you’re sure your emotions are written clear as day on you. it’s only by the time that he’s almost face to face with you, an unreadable expressing playing on his face and the proximity of your bodies sending you reeling that you feel like you regain control over yourself, not daring to waste another second before you’re turning around on your heel and stepping away.

chan’s voice calls out for you in instant at your actions, and you desperately try to ignore the way your name sounds falling from his lips, swallowing a lump down in your throat that threatens to break the dam nearing explosion. it’s only when you hear his footsteps speed up and a warm hand grab your arm that you stop in place for what feels like the nth time this week, feeling like you can’t go on any further. you’re so tired of running, of detaching yourself from the situation and moving out of the picture that something in you just feels so defeated. so, you slowly turn around to meet his gaze again, heaving a breath that you don’t intend to come out of your mouth at the way he’s looking at you.

“sorry. um,” chan sighs, clearing his throat as he pushes back his glasses which are sliding off his nose. “hi?” he starts, not sure where to begin. you can tell he’s tense with the way he’s fiddling with his fingers and slightly tapping his sneaker clad foot, and you wish you could ease his nerves despite the fact that you’re equally as nervous, wishing you didn’t have to face him at all today, much less so soon. “i just, uh.. wanted to ask how you are.”

“‘m good.” you respond meekly, eyes falling on your feet, or the bushes, or the speck of dirt on the floor, or just fucking anywhere that wasn’t chan’s tender gaze which makes you feel messy and confusing feelings. “how are you?” you weakly offer, risking a glance at him as he nods and says the same, which only makes you feel like your heart is about to burst with the way he’s so concentrated on your face. his expression is still unreadable, and you’re not sure what’s burning through his mind right now, although if you had to take a wild guess, you’d think he’s probably wondering how the fuck he’s supposed to bring up your stupid behaviour, and it’s much to your dismay that your suspicions are confirmed with his next sentence.

“listen, i—“

“please ignore what happened. i was drunk, and it didn’t mean anything.” you quickly blurt out, cutting him off before he can say what he was going to. you’re not even sure if he was going to bring it up because you don’t give him the opportunity to do so in fear it’ll mortify you further than you already are, so much so that you don’t seem to notice the way the look in his eyes falls, that slight glimmer of hope dying down just as soon as it had appeared. “you can just leave it be, honestly.” you add on, the next words on your tongue slipping before you can stop them.

“i’m sure your girlfriend will be happier if you do that.”

it’s venomous, the tone that you speak in, sounding bitter and hurt despite the fact that you know you’re being petty. chan just blinks at you in return, opening his mouth, closing it and then opening it again as if he’s trying to find the right words to say. he doesn’t really know what to say, not when you’ve given him so much to process in so little time. “y/n,” he eventually lets out, and you have to physically shut your eyes to compose yourself from the way he sounds so soft as he addresses you. when you open them, he’s deep in thought, stare fixated on the space between your shoulder as if it’ll help him come up with an adequate response to this fucked up situation.

“i don’t think i should move past it.” chan swallows, his voice slightly trembling if you strain to hear it. something in you burns when you realise he doesn’t even bother to correct you about calling the previous woman you’d seen him with his girlfriend, and now you’re left wondering if there really is something deeper brewing between them. your stomach plummets at the potential, so much so that you can feel hints of irrational anger rising to the surface in you, and before you know it, you’re seeing red. “what the fuck does that even mean?” you spit out in your mild fit of rage that’s just begun, and chan’s eyes widen at you use of words.

“i-i mean, you’ve been avoiding me this whole time, and i just wanna know if it was something i did from last time, or if—“

“god, you just don’t know when to quit, do you?” you continue to snap, trying desperately to ignore the fresh sting of tears threatening to leak. you know this isn’t what you want to say, your heart speaking something different that it’s been trying to tell you for ages now, but the phrases tumbling out of your mouth are anything but the truth that yearns to be shared with probably the one person who would choose to understand and listen to it.

“this was nothing to begin with, and it never will be, chan. i said what i said ‘cause i was wasted out of my mind, it doesn’t mean jackshit. so, you can go ahead and do whatever the hell you want, and i’ll do the same.”

you don’t even realise the gravity of your words until you’re done, finally meeting chan’s gaze which only makes you want to let out the sob you’ve been holding back this entire time. instant regret floods your system at the way his shoulders slump and eyes appear emotionless, and before you can think to take it back, to tell him how everything you just said is a lie and that you’ve been trying to ignore whatever you feel towards him all this while, he flashes you a smile. it’s small, and you can tell it hides unspoken emotion in it, but you don’t question nor point it out, too stunned to even process it.

“i understand. i’ll leave you be from now on.” chan says quietly, his voice broken and dull. the lump in your throat sits at the back, ever so present and persistent as you try to swallow it away whilst watching his defeated frame turn around and walk off in the opposite direction. a desire deep inside of you itches to scream after him, to run over and yank him into your arms at last, but your pride overshadows it. you know you’ve done what you need to, your mind trying to convince you of the very fact because this is what’s best for you; it’s best for you to not continue mixing with chan in order to stop hurting both him and yourself, although it seems it’s too late for that by now.

moreover, even with that previous acceptance, you still feel uneasy, like something in you remains unresolved. part of you knows exactly what the truth is, but you refuse to acknowledge it. you think you’ll never know when or if the time for you to do so will ever come. so, with a heavy heart and so many unsaid thoughts, you turn around and trudge your way back to the dorms, shooting karina a quick text about feeing under the weather to eat before getting beneath your covers to lay down. a million thoughts buzz in your head as you try to sleep, desperately wanting to evade reality, yet your efforts do little to satiate the noises in your mind.

it’s only when you feel the fresh roll of a single tear against your cheek that you truly come to understand just what’s happened. you know you’ve pushed chan away for the millionth time by now, yet something about this instance feels different. maybe it’s the fact that you stuck around to see the pain in his eyes, or maybe it’s how he still tried to reach out to you despite your avoidance of him. maybe it’s even the way he’s finally found someone who probably loves him the way he deserves to be— openly, something you could never dare to give him despite your blatantly obvious jealousy. your very admissions make the weight in your heart heavier, the knowledge that you’re jealous, that you’ve been jealous this entire time only solidifying the fact that you care. you care so fucking much to the point it’s been eating you alive, and that’s all it takes for you to break before you’re full on crying, body shaking as you cover your face in your hands. one lone thought remains in your mind in the midst of your tears, the thought that chan may have not been yours to begin with, but now?

now, he’s definitely never going to be.

. . .

“l/n, what’s the matter with you today? keep up, you’re falling behind!” your coach’s frustrated voice cuts through the evening air once more as you squint, the stadium lights behind her highlighting her form that’s menacingly staring at you with hands on her hips. a loud sigh leaves your lips, causing you to clutch the plastic of your cheer tassels tightly in your hand as you try and ignore the stares coming from your girls. this is probably the fifth time you’ve messed up the routine for everyone today, an event highly unlikely for you in normal occurrences, but after having spent a few days since.. that, you can’t seem to get into the zone and focus on anything anymore.

practise drones on for another hour, filled with more groans and scolding from your instructor directed your way in specific until she finally gives up and dismisses everyone for the day. she grumbles something about how you guys should just come back tomorrow in the morning prior to the game instead and stomps off to her office, leaving you with a pit in your stomach because you know this is all because of you. there’s silence that lingers in the atmosphere once she’s gone, and no one dares to speak up, instead opting to stare at you through stolen glances as you heave a breathe. tossing your equipment aside, you move to go fill up some water, chugging it down in hopes that quenching your thirst will get you to snap out of the haziness that’s currently fogging your mind.

“hey.” a voice greets you from behind, and you whip your head back to find yunjin and giselle standing there. crumpling the paper cup in your hands, you fling it into the nearby bin, mustering up a smile as you nod at them which pushes giselle to bite the gun. “you okay? you seem kind of.. off today.” she questions in worry, causing you to shrug.

“yeah, sorry. i’ve just got a lot on my mind, i guess.” you huff out a laugh, although there’s nothing but annoyance laced in your tone. your teammates exchange looks between them at your words, and yunjin steps forward to place a hand on your shoulder. “we get it, the big game is nerve-wracking for us too.” you hum, her voice offering the same encouraging dialogue to you droning out in your head as reality fades away and your inner monologue with yourself begins once more.

what was the actual point of all of this anymore? were you even in it for the long haul? did you really want to continue giving it your all even after knowing you’ve lost something that means so much to you? you realise belatedly now that everything around you has become superficial, and that none of it seems to matter in the grand scheme of things except for.. well, him. even the concept of going to parties, getting wasted, missing classes, being on a team with the rest of the girls, it all feels endlessly futile now. that’s not to say you haven’t had fun this entire time, but something in you feels like it’s finally come to terms with what’s surrounding you. the ringing in your ears only gets louder by the minute as you try to will it away, and it genuinely seems like the alarms in you have finally woken up after months of staying dormant.

“sorry, yun, but i have to go. i’ll see you two later.” you mumble, and before either of them can protest, you’re turning around and walking off, the evening’s cool air following you closely behind.

you don’t even say hi to karina when you reach your dorm room, ignoring her greeting as you toss your shoes to the side, but she seems to pick up on what’s going on after seeing the longing look in your eyes. she doesn’t question it either when you lock yourself in the bathroom, simply going back to reading her book as if nothing had happened, and you’re honestly grateful for that realisation when you start the water. once the tub is all filled up, you strip down naked and dip your body in, closing your eyes at the warm sensation which envelops you after slipping in.

even still, the hug your bath seems to wrap you up in doesn’t take away from the heaviness of the day that continues to wear you down, almost like what happened over the course of this week is dragging your tense muscles with it. your chest still feels tight and the voices in your head remain muffled, like they’re being deafened by white noise that hasn’t stopped increasing in pitch ever since you came to terms with how you’re feeling. how you’re feeling. you swallow at that.

it feels like hours pass by the time you finally heave your soaking wet limbs out, bundling yourself up in a towel to dry yourself off before creaking the door open. when you step out, you notice karina’s side of the room to be empty, checking your phone to see if she’d messaged you, only to find texts from her saying she’d gone down to the dining hall with her classmates. you shoot her a quick reply back, adding some obscure emoji so she knows not to worry too much and then proceed to flop down on your own bed, frowning when you feel the still remaining dampness of your hair hit the pillow.

your eyes drift to your device which illuminates in the darkness of the room again, fingers moving to grab it as you unlock it only to flick through the rows of messages flooding in from group chats you don’t even know why you’re part of in the first place. some part of you feels empty upon eyeing them, watching the way everyone buzzes in excitement about the game tomorrow knowing you feel far from how they do. rather, it’s the opposite, some sort of twisted sensation washing over you as you scroll past all your notifications only to land on a particular chat.

“fuck.” you mutter to yourself, groaning whilst your eyes rake over chan’s contact name. you press on the profile photo hesitantly, biting your lip as it enlarges to give you a better look at what picture you’ve set for him; the picture you took of him.

you still remember it vividly— the both of you had gone down to the convenience store to grab a quick study snack, only to end up chatting over long gone cold ramen for hours on no end up until the point it had turned dark outside. you’d brushed off the dirt on your jeans after getting up from the stairs you two had sat on, turning around to face chan who was also about to stand but stopped at your request for him to pose for the camera. he’d gone red in the face when you teased him about how good he’d looked after snapping some photos of him, nervously scratching the back of his neck as he brushed off your compliment despite his giggles.

you’d been so busy pointing out the details of the photo that you hadn’t even noticed the way he’d laced his hand in yours, his palm soft against your cooler skin which caused the insides of your stomach to leap in a weird way. you’d ignored it of course, letting him enjoy his moment seeing as no one was around to catch you both anyways, but the blooming contentment you’d felt in your body remained until he’d walked you back to your dorm room, shyly flashing you a smile before placing a small kiss on your forehead. you rode out on that high for the next few days without even knowing it.

it’s only when your screen becomes wet with a few drops of your tears that you snap out of the memories, realising you’re crying once more. you use the back of your sleeve to wipe at your face, sniffling slightly all while trying to hold back the emotions that threaten to escape you yet again after having bottled them up for days now. your previous texts with chan stare back in your eyes as a sore reminder of everything, and you can’t help but scroll through them, reading back the silly messages you’d exchanged which only make you want to wallow in self pity even more.

was chan thinking of you the way you were of him? was he cooped up and unable to progress with his day because he was still hung up on how things had ended? did he care? did he.. ever care? did he care half as much as you did right now?

he did.

you realise belatedly that he cared, cared so much that maybe it was even more than you do right now or ever could and will. chan cared for you so deeply, so passionately in a way nobody else had the capability to do so in your entire life. he replaced the love you lacked growing up with his boyish charms and soft spoken personality, and he was willing to give up parts of him for your sake so as long as it meant you were happy.

he cared. he had cared.

he’d cared so fucking much and you’d thrown it away like it was nothing.

before you can even process your next actions, your thumb presses on the call icon next to chan’s profile. the ring goes out immediately, his nickname and photo appearing on your screen once more as you wait with bated breath. you don’t even know what you’re doing right now, you don’t think you ever have known to be honest when it comes to chan, but some irrational, impulsive part of you feels like it’s taken over, yearning to satiate the desires you’ve ignored for a long time now.

beep. beep. beep.

please pick up. please don’t pick up. please pick up. please don’t pick up. please—

“the number you have dialled is..“

it’s immediate the way you click off the call, bottom lip wobbling once you’re sure there’s no way anyone can hear as all your pent up frustration comes crashing down on you in an instant. a beat of silence passes as you exhale a shaky breath, which seems to be the beginning of the floodgates opening because by the time the air even leaves your mouth, you’re choking back a sob, much like you have been for these past few days. your heart tightens in a way that makes you extremely uncomfortable, and your hands shake as you try embrace yourself by hugging your knees to your chest so you can bury your face in them.

chan hadn’t picked up. he hadn’t picked up unlike all the previous times you’ve asked him to come over in the dead of the night to meet up with you just so you two can make out in the backseat of his car. he hadn’t picked up unlike all the previous times you’ve texted wishing to facetime with him because you’re bored of trying to do your assignments. he hadn’t picked up unlike all the previous times you’ve wanted him to let you know to ring you up once he’s arrived home safe after having driven you back to your dorm.

he hadn’t picked up unlike all the previous times because he was gone from your life once and for all.

. . .

the next morning arrives far too soon for your liking, and it takes everything within you to drag your body out of the solace of your bed which currently seems to be the only thing providing you any semblance of comfort in your dull times. you do your best to make small talk with karina as you both get ready for the game, your roommate chatting your ear off about something mundane and irrelevant that you suspect is her way of filling the uncomfortable air lingering around you that she’s picked up on. you’re grateful for her trying to compensate for your lack of a response, but even with karina’s support, your soul feels extremely hollow and devoid of any meaning still. you hum and offer simple quips to her regardless of your mind screaming at you to go non-verbal, and before you know it, you’re both out of the door with you dressed up in your cheer uniform despite not feeling the slightest bit prepared to tackle what the day is about to bring.

by the time you both reach the stadium, everyone has already filled out the majority of the seats, the loud buzz of excitement resonating through the surroundings as you rake your eyes over the large turnout. karina flashes you a smile before giving you a quick hug, assuring you that you’ll do great and disappearing into the crowd to find her own spot to sit down. you want to believe her words, you truly do, but all your mind is fixated on right now is how sheerly empty you feel, your thoughts still drowning you in negativity with the way they haven’t shut up since last night, or maybe even for the past few weeks if you’re being honest. despite whatever emotions and jitters you’re feeling though, you try shrug it off, breathing in deeply before making your way over to where the rest of your team has gathered.

it’s the same speech that you’re met with when you finally stand around the huddle that everyone has formed in, their bright grins and your coach’s encouraging ment making you feel guilty for not being as fully into this as everybody else is. despite the drawbacks, you beam anyways, participating in the pre-show ritual of putting your hands into the centre and laughing alongside your girls. you all separate eventually and stand in your positions, and it doesn’t take long before the event begins and you’re all starting the crowd off with the all too familiar chant of your university’s slogan that everybody joins in on.

the game begins and generally progresses with no major hiccups, and in the end, you do manage to pull off the routine you’ve practised multiple times seamlessly without any issues. your limbs burn, and your voice is hoarse by the time the band takes over, but you try your best to maintain your outgoing nature despite the inner turmoil that’s been brewing inside you for a while now. nonetheless, before you know it, halftime is over and both teams are on the brink of a match point stopping them from taking victory. everybody watches with their nerves at a full time high, and for a moment, your thoughts seem to fade as you focus on keeping the gathering of people upbeat and motivated to encourage the players, but it’s short-lived after the star player manages to score the winning goal once and for all.

upon the realisation that your team has won, everyone erupts in loud celebration and applause, some even standing from their seat to make their way down and join in on the crowd of players who have formed around the one who threw the last shot. your girls and coach all yell in joy, a few of them hugging each other after a successfully executed performance which leaves them jumping up and down. you stay to watch from the sidelines, happy for your team’s hard efforts despite your still heavy shoulders dragging you down from getting into the spirit. some of the girls try and grab you by the hand to bring you into the hug, but you politely decline, saying you need to catch your breath for a second as some meaningless excuse to avoid having to be surrounded by a large group of people for too long.

observing everyone feels bittersweet. you want to be as pumped up as everybody else is, want to join in and ride on the high of having tackled what was quite possibly the biggest, most important match of the season, but a part of you holds back. no matter how much you try drag yourself out of your low spirits, you can’t succeed, instead feeling the need to chew on your bottom lip with your rising inability to hide your emotions as you stand in the middle of the ground alone. you don’t know where karina’s sauntered of to after the news of today's game outcome, and you’re not even sure where the rest of the team is heading to now; you assume it’s to some nearby diner for further commemoration. everything in you remains the same, numb and drained of any potential happiness that could’ve been because of what you’ve come to realise is completely your fault.

with a deep sigh and a gradual acceptance that you should just head back to the dorms, you turn on your heel, tossing your tassels somewhere in the basket you’d picked them up from before slowly trudging your way in the direction of the student accommodation. your eyes feel glossy, and that weird lump you keep getting before you’re about to cry is back in your throat as you watch everyone whizz past you, clearly bustling in thrill that’s much different from how you’re feeling. you do catch a few glances on you, feeling people’s stares and knowing they’re probably wondering why a member of the cheer team isn’t out partying with the rest, but you can’t find it in you to care anymore. you don’t know how you ever did in the first place.

y/n.

your ears perk at a familiar voice shouting your name in the distance, goosebumps spiking on your skin at the way it sounds so similar to chan’s. you feel like you’re hallucinating at this point, just hearing things because of your growing infatuation with him that’s finally made its way up from the underlying surface, and that only prompts you to walk faster as you tug your arms to your chest. if you’re starting to imagine things, it’s best that you get out of here. so, with your eyes squeezed shut, you try carry yourself as fast as your legs can take you, the call of your name only growing louder regardless of how much you ignore it. you swear you’re going mad from the way each time it returns, it sounds even closer and identical to how chan does, springing up memories of when he’d called you by your name the previous times you’d spent together.

y/n. y/n. y/n.

“y/n!”

your eyes widen when you hear the same voice and footsteps jogging up directly right behind you, this time knowing for sure that it’s not just in your head and rather coming from a few meters away. your heart accelerates with the possibility of what that means, of what that would entail if it were true. it couldn’t be.

..could it?

you’re quick to spin around when the thought crosses your mind, your eyes raking over your surroundings to search for that one figure you’ve been looking for in everyone you’ve met for the past few months. your breath catches in your throat, and you whip your head side to side to try and find the source, but it’s only when your vision stabilises and settles on the emerging figure in front of you that you realise it—

chan.

it’s chan.

chan is here.

“y/n.” he breathes out when he finally catches up to you, his glasses slipping off the bridge of his nose in his haste to greet you. you don’t respond, mouth open and feet frozen in place with your mind rushing at a million miles per hour and so many different questions echoing in it. is this real? have you fallen into some delusional state of existence where you’re envisioning the one person you’ve needed for so long? is he just a figment of your imagination that’s been burning with his face for so many days now? you can’t believe it, you don’t want to believe it, you think you don’t deserve to believe it. you long to reach out to him and place your hand in his, to feel and see if he’s actually present and standing in front of you, but your body acts like it’s been caught up in utter shock, something chan seems to pick up on after your prolonged silence.

“g-good job on the game.” he decides to stutter out as a way of starting conversation hopefully, cursing internally at how his voice wavers before letting out a nervous chuckle. “you were really great out there, and i saw you lead everyone really well. you know, if i think about it, cheerleading is kinda an intense sport, ‘cause why were you guys jumping so high, and—“

“you came.”

chan blinks as if to process your words, his eyes softening immediately at the admission that’s slipped out of you when you cut his rambling off mid-sentence with two simple words. you look so shocked, and it’s with a proper glance at your face he’s getting after not having been able to see you well enough for a while that he notices the remnants of your bloodshot eyes and slight dark circles, all of which you’d tried to cover up with makeup. he thinks you’re still as pretty as ever like this, and his hand twitches with the urging need to take you in his arms. he wants so badly to hold you, but he hesitates, instead settling on two, even more simpler words—

“you called.”

that’s all it takes. all it takes is two words which inherently have no meaning unless you give it to them to set you free and rid you of the static in your brain, your orbs stinging with the all too knowing tears that slowly drop out of them as you let everything sink in. it may sound like the most mundane sentence on the outside, but to you, after weeks of uncertainty and these last few days filled with what you would honestly classify as the worst depressive thoughts of your life, they feel like the most uplifting thing ever.

chan’s gaze widens when he catches the sole droplet of salty water roll down your cheek, and he’s instinctively extending his finger to wipe it away until he realises what he’s just done. you don’t even get to speak as he splutters out apologies for touching you while looking around to see if anyone caught that. his actions make your heart ache, knowing it’s because of you that he feels so cautious, and before you can even think, you’re crashing into him. the sudden weight of your body causes him to stumble a little on his feet, but he manages to stabilise himself as you wrap yourself around him in his embrace, burying your face into his chest.

“‘m sorry. ‘m so, so sorry.” your voice cracks as you speak, muffled into his jacket to the point he has to strain to hear it. you keep repeating the same thing over and over again to the point it makes his frown deepen, and he’s instant in cradling you back in his hold, other people be damned because he’d be an idiot not to take care of you now of all times. he lets you mumble into his clothes as long as you need to, grip on your smaller figure tightening while he rubs your back soothingly. his touch feels warm and comforting, and you don’t even know how you’d gone so far without it, pulling back with a sniffle after a short instance so you can scan your eyes over his features.

he’s dressed in simple clothes today, but that same combo of his signature snapback and glasses he always has remain resting on his head and face. you don’t even know what it is about them, maybe it’s the fact that you’ve gotten so accustomed to seeing him in these things, or maybe it’s how you’re finally catching a glimpse of it all after having been away for so long, but the sight of his accessories that you know all too well only makes you cry harder. you try move your arm to wipe at your tears, but chan is quicker, the soft pads of his thumbs brushing against your wet cheeks as he cups your face in his hands. your bottom lip juts out shamelessly as he wipes the remnants of your emotions away, to which he just smiles.

“i’m sorry too.” he admits, your confusion urging him to elaborate. “i saw you called yesterday night, but my brother had my phone and wouldn’t give it back to me, so i couldn’t pick up. i debated calling you back too, but i wasn’t sure if it was just another drunken mishap, and then after you said everything that day, i-i didn’t want to risk bothering you, and..“ he trails off, biting his bottom lip. you swallow at his words.

“it wasn’t a drunk call.” you shake your head, voice still wobbly as you clear your throat. “chan, i..“ you struggle to find a plausible explanation, wishing you could say a hundred words and none at the same time. you want to tell him everything in your heart, all the fears you’ve had this entire time that you want to get over with his help, all the nonsense your brain has been spewing ever since you told him to walk out of your life, all of it. you want him to know every deep, dark secret you’ve kept this entire time, but you can’t seem to find the right way to phrase it all.

“i get it.” he offers a lopsided grin as if having read your mind, and it’s pathetic really how it instantly eases all your worries. “you don’t have to say anything, not unless you want to. but, y/n,” chan hesitates, taking a deep breath to calm his nerves. “there’s something i need to tell you before it’s too late.”

that makes you gulp, and you wonder for a split second if maybe this is the end. maybe this is chan finally putting himself and his needs first before you can even profess all the unsaid declarations of your feelings for him. maybe he’s become fed up with you at last and came to see you in person today to let you down easily, telling you sweet things and comforting you so you’d ease your guard and be more susceptible to what he’s about to say. maybe it’s finally time for you to let go before you could’ve even had a taste of what was to come, maybe this is the universe’s way of letting you know you lost your timing due to your insolence, maybe—

“i love you.”

…what?

your eyes practically bulge out of your head at this point, and for a while, you wonder if you really heard him right. it’s like your entire world seems to slow down around you too, your surroundings spinning even with you trying to stabilise your vision after what you’d just been told. everything feels like it’s fading into background noise, and suddenly your entire focus is only on chan; chan with his gorgeous face and honey-like voice that you’ve heard so many times letting you know the one thing you’ve longed to hear from him these past few weeks.

“i think— no, i know you’re it for me.” he continues to blurt out, his anxiety gnawing him at the back of his mind with the way you don’t say anything. “i’ve wanted to tell you for so long because i’ve been in love with you for a while now, but i didn’t because of what you said that day. a-and i know you told me not to bother you again, and maybe you’re not in the right mindset right now and i’m just imagining all of this, and you’re going to wake up tomorrow having changed your mind and we’ll go back to the way we were, and—“

chan’s words die down in his throat before he can even get the rest of his sentence out, a surprised yelp leaving him when you abruptly cut him off by pressing your mouth against his. he lets out a small noise of shock at the way you lean into him, but his hands wrap around you as if its instinct, caging you into his body when he eventually does reciprocate your actions. your lips are soft; they’re so warm and taste like your strawberry chapstick, but he doesn’t care that it’s probably staining his face, at least not when he’s finally got you with him, no less in the way he’s longed for ever since he met your drunk figure stumbling into the balcony with him that night at the party.

your head isn’t any quieter either, adrenaline coursing through your veins and heart impossibly beating out of your chest as you enthusiastically mould yourself to him. your fingers bunch up the jacket he’s wearing, and the way he’s kissing you makes your toes curl inside your shoes, but none of that matters when you’re here at long last with chan. chan, chan, chan. your chan. your chan who has never been yours but is now saying he is. your imperfect, awkward, nerdy chan who holds the door open for you and respects all your wishes regardless of how they make him feel. the realisation makes your insides twist in a way you think might make your legs give out on you, but chan is quick to squeeze your waist as a way of reassuring you that he won’t let you fall, and you can’t help the fluttery sensation in your stomach that passes with that.

when you both do pull away, it’s with much reluctance, and you can see the faintest hint of a pout on chan’s face decorated with the remnants of your makeup, but he doesn’t seem to care so you think neither should you. your eyes lock when he opens his, those same orbs you’ve felt such complicated feelings for reflecting back at you with unspoken tension and so much adoration. you think you might physically melt with the way he’s staring down at you, so lovestruck and completely in awe, but that’s exactly what gives you the push to say your next words—

“i love you so much.” you choke out, unexpected emotions washing over you as you finally admit what you’ve been wanting to say for so long. it feels liberating in a way you’ve never experienced, to be honest and real with him, but you think you could get used to it.

“how could i not love you, chan? you’re everything i’ve ever needed.” your voice comes out in a whisper, and chan feels his shoulders relax at that, relief flooding through his system when he finally, finally hears what he’s wanted to since he’s known you. “‘m sorry for pushing you away, ‘m sorry for hurting you, and i’ll try my best to stop running from what i want. so.. if you’ll still have me even after all that, i promise i’ll make it worth your while.” you look down at your feet, swallowing in fear that he’d think otherwise after being reminded of everything you did to him. you know you don’t deserve a second chance, but the thought of chan changing his mind after everything that’s happened feels way too cruel, although you think maybe that’s your karma.

“hey,” your ears catch his gentle voice speak up, dragging you out of your thoughts. before you can even look up, chan’s hooking his finger under your chin and making you do so, his beautiful face that you’ve fallen for throughout these past few months coming into your view. the way he’s staring down at you is so tender, so full of admiration that you genuinely believe you might pass out. chan has always looked at you like you hung the stars up in the sky, like he wants you and you only in every lifetime. but, seeing it now after his confession, seeing the way his gaze rakes over your features as if he’s trying to commit them to memory, you feel like you might cry again.

“of course i’ll have you, are you kidding me?” he huffs out in a laugh that pulls you back to reality, although it sounds more like him being in disbelief. “i’ve been dreaming of this ever since i even saw you.” he shyly mumbles, and you can’t stop the goofy grin that spreads across your face at his admittance. you want to jump in joy, to shout out your feelings for him from the top of the bleachers after finally having it all laid bare in front of you, but you can’t, so instead you settle on smashing your lips against his once more, cradling his face in your hands.

chan’s quick in responding this time, and you can sense the way he’s beaming when he moves his mouth in sync with yours. your hand slides up his chest to grip the edge of his jacket, and you swear you can feel the rapid thumping of his heart under your skin, wondering if he can hear yours too with the way you’re both pressed up to each other. you stay like that to the point your lungs burn, exchanging kisses and unspoken feelings amongst each other until you finally have enough (not really). your hand interlocks with his once you pull away and flash him a cheeky smile, the words already leaving you—

“let’s get out of here.”

. . .

by the time you and chan make it to his car, you’re already panting, lips bruised with the way you’ve been pushing them against one another’s for the past few minutes. it took long enough to even drag him to the parking lot, chan not being able to let go of you in favour of walking the short distance to the outdoor area where he'd driven and stopped. the morning sky that’s illuminated above you with hues of orange stretches out for miles, and if anyone’s up there looking down at you both, they’d probably see two young adults giggling amongst themselves as one of them presses the other up to the side of his vehicle. you feel butterflies erupt in you with the way chan slots his body against yours, his leg pushing its way through the gap between yours, and his mouth is on you before you can even speak.

“you look so pretty today.” chan retracts from you to whisper suddenly, his slightly foggy glasses once again sliding off his nose. you reach up and push them back with a mischievous glint in your eyes, and he swears he's never seen a sight so alluring in his life; his red ears are enough evidence of that fact. “so, am i not pretty every other day, mr. bang?” you tease, causing him to let out a chuckle. he missed this, missed the banter between you two that was the start of what could've been mistaken as a lighthearted relationship if no one bothered to correct the details of it. regardless of all the trials and tribulations it took to get you both to this point, he doesn't care, at least not when he finally has you in his arms, your top bunched up in his hands as he looks down at your precious face.

“nope.” he pops the ‘p’, thumb brushing against your cheek. “because those days, you're even prettier.” he murmurs, and you think if your heart races anymore that it might actually burst. the love and adoration that you’re experiencing for him right now, the love and adoration that you've been experiencing for a long time now, it all feels like a fever dream. you're finally able to do and say what you want to him, but you think the best part of it all is him reciprocating it. the way he gazes at you, the way he touches you, the way he kisses you, all of it— it's all so full of emotion to the point you fear that you can't ever give it all back. you'd be damned if you didn't try though.

“alright, romeo, pipe it down. you're gonna get all the ladies with that line.” you joke, and chan throws his head back to let out a laugh that makes your insides twist. you try to move your head away to hide the tint of pink that's rapidly spreading across your face, but he notices anyway, a large grin plastered all over his mouth that he doesn't even bother hiding anymore. he fumbles around with his keys a little until he finally finds the one that unlocks his car, instantly opening the door to the backseat to which you usher in at lightning speed, drawing another laugh from him.

“c’mere.” he sighs once he's in too, grasping your hand to tug you onto his lap somehow despite the cramped space. you let out a noise of surprise as he settles you over him, but your hands instantly move to his shoulders to stabilise yourself, finding the familiar position you've been in far too many times. “someone’s eager.” you let out breathlessly, unable to hold back the giggle that bubbles in your throat at the way he flushes red at your observation. his hands find purchase on your waist, the smooth feel of your uniform being bunched up in his larger fingers causing your heart to beat out of its chest.

“well, yeah, but.. also, i missed you.” chan confesses quietly. “i mean, i’ve been dreaming about this for so long and now it's finally real.” he mutters in disbelief, and you can't stop the pout that forms. your fingers trace along the soft skin of his face, moving past the outline of his jaw to his swollen mouth that you've probably kissed at least ten times by today. you don't hesitate to kiss it again, lips moulding perfectly against his as your eyes slip shut to revel in the moment. chan is nothing but full of sighs of content at your actions, and when you pull away, he swears he almost whines.

“i missed you too. so much.” you admit, full and honest because you had. you'd missed him so much to the point you'd have thought you were going crazy. you missed him every day you had waken up whether or not you wanted to be aware of it, and you'd missed him every night that you'd cried yourself to sleep. and yet, here he is now, sitting with you in his lap all the way in the back of his beat up car, telling you all these sweet words that make you want to do absolutely sinful things to him.

“missed talking to you.” you boop his nose, and he smiles at you, irrevocably down bad. “missed hugging you.” your arms wrap around his broad shoulders, and while you shudder at the visible idea of how much stronger chan actually is compared to you, you sign it off as a fantasy you'll have to indulge in someday later. “missed kissing you.” you mumble, leaning in to pepper a soft trail across his cheeks. “and, most of all..” you trail off, inching closer so you're at level with his burning ears before you speak—

“i missed tasting you.” your voice comes out in a low tone, and chan all but groans at the dirty admission. he shifts slightly underneath you as evidence of his discomfort, but you know that's only from the way you can feel him filling out his jeans. your hips purposely push down on his to grind against the slowly forming bulge tucked away behind his boxers, and he jerks forward, nails digging into the fabric of your skirt with a loud hiss leaving him.

“don’t— don’t do that.” chan gasps out, the sight of your glossy, doe eyes instantly having blood rush between his legs. he can tell you’re in the mood to play games, but he also knows that if he goes one more minute without having claimed you in any sort of way, he might actually die. “‘m literally on the brink of it, baby. please.” you bite your lip at his small plea, ignoring the way the old nickname falls from him as the faintest hint of a smirk forms across your features. you choose to rock your clothed core on his once more anyway, which makes chan toss his head back so rough that a slight thump resonates in the air after he hits the seat.

his gaze is hooded whilst he watches you hump your slowly growing wetness over his pants for the next few minutes, mouth parted as heavy exhales leave it alongside the rapidly rising tension between you both. one particular press of your probably damp by now panties on his bulge has him keening, which only makes you smile. “shit, you still love teasing me, huh?” he curses in question, breathy laughter escaping him at the sight of you nodding as his tongue pokes the inside of his cheek. the sight alone is so attractive that you can’t resist leaning in to capture him in another searing kiss, one that’s much hotter and heavier than the previous ones.

chan’s confusion is audible with the way he voices it out loud when you suddenly pull away, but any and all complaints die down in his throat the minute he sees you shuffle from his lap, biting back the groan that threatens to rumble through his chest at you sinking to your knees instead. you’re thankful that his passenger seat is adjusted forward to give you space to sit, likely being that way from all your previous activities, or maybe it could be from anybody else he brought in during the technically no contact period you both broke moments prior to this. hot jealousy bubbles under the surface at the potential of someone else getting to see him how you do, but you swallow it down in lieu of making the most of what situation you’re in now.

“pretty girl.” chan’s voice is merely a whisper, dragging you out of your thoughts as one of his hands caresses the flesh of your cheek, leaving you to nuzzle against it. he glances at you so softly regardless of whatever erotic position you’ve put yourself in, still in utter awe at the fact that you’re here, physically and in front of him instead of the daydreams he’s often found himself imagining of you. he can’t decide whether you look like the epitome of perfection with the sunlight streaming through his windows and highlighting your face, or the epitome of sin with the predicament you’re in which leaves you situated on the floor of his car between his legs; he chooses to settle on both.

your fingers graze his denim clad thighs, and chan retracts himself from brushing his thumb against the skin of your face to hurriedly undo the zipper of his jeans. you’re more than eager to help, assisting him in unbuttoning and shimmying them off despite the cramped space you’re both in. eventually, chan’s pants and boxers are pooling around his ankles, and his leaking cock awaits prettily for any sort of relief you may be able to provide it, the tip a slight shade of red as precum dribbles out. you’re quick to swipe it off, chan’s noises at you doing so falling on deaf ears as you bring the essence up to your mouth and lick it off. the familiar tinge of sweet and saltiness invades your senses, only making the uncomfortable stickiness between your own legs grow.

“you’re so beautiful, channie.” you say after popping your finger out of your mouth, small hands instantly moving to wrap around his length and squeeze just a tad, which has chan’s chest rumbling with a moan. “gorgeous face, gorgeous body, gorgeous everything. how could i have been so foolish to almost let go of it?” you wonder out loud, eyes flickering up to him when he buries his face in his palms, getting flustered at your compliments. “my shy boy.” you giggle at his actions, mesmerised by the way he twitches in your hold when you softly pump him up and down.

“been such a bad girl ignoring you, yeah?” you sigh in faux frustration, although a part of it is true. “no more of that, though. let me make it up to you.” you gather a wad of spit in your mouth before letting it dribble across his cockhead, smearing the saliva over it with your thumb once more. your ministrations have chan’s hips threatening to buck up in your hold, but he restrains himself, embarrassed at how worked up you’ve already gotten him without even having done anything really. “i promise i’ll make you feel so good.” you assure, eyebrows furrowing when he just shakes his head.

“no, y-you always make me feel good.” he stutters at the way your fingers squeeze just a bit harder from his words, and before he can even add anything else to his previous sentence, you’re leaning forward to wrap your warm mouth around him.

a loud groan shudders its way past chan’s lips at how you practically swallow him whole in one go, taking him in so deep that he can feel the way his mushroom head kisses the back of your throat just a smidge. you pull off a little to let your tongue slide out and lick around the underside of his dick, another hand coming up to fondle with his balls simultaneously. soon enough, his low grunts fill the air, only prompting you to hum around chan as the vibrations of your voice shoot up his body. “fuck, angel.” he manages to utter out, a deep moan slipping out when he dares to peek a glance at you, almost cumming prematurely from the way you look up at him through your lashes.

“wan’ you to fuck my throat. please.” you pull off of him to plead instead, rubbing the spit-stricken head of his sensitive cock against your swollen lips. the way you’re staring back at him with wide eyes, your wet muscle darting out to dip into his slit as he chokes on his own words makes him want to take you right then and there, but chan holds back, choosing to oblige your request with a shaky nod as he reaches forward to thread his fingers through your hair. you smile at him sweetly, enveloping his length back into your hot cavern of a mouth and pushing your nose flush to his pelvis.

this time, he feels his tip bump deliciously against the back of your throat, and it doesn’t take much longer for him to start slowly push himself in and out whilst gripping you in a makeshift ponytail. the sloppy sounds of your gagging fill the space of his car in an instant, and the mere sight of your tears welling up nearly sends chan toppling over the edge. he’s quick to take you off of him at that, and you’re about to protest to ask why he stopped when he cuts you off. “‘m sorry, angel, but if we don’t stop, i'll end up finishing like a teenage boy in your mouth.” you huff out a small laugh at his choice of words.

“i wouldn’t have cared, channie. that’s kinda the goal of sex.” you point out, rising from your crouched position with burning knees to settle on his lap once more as you wrap your arms around his neck. “yeah, but..” chan trails off, his breath hitching at the way he presses up against your clothed stomach, and you titter from how he seems absolutely awestruck at the sight of you in his hold. it’s so endearing that you lean forward to press a soft kiss to his nose, letting your lips trail across his cheeks, ears and jaw before finally landing on his mouth. chan feels like he’s going to go mad when you eventually retract from him. “yeah, but?” you remind him with a smug grin, watching him blink to gather his thoughts again.

“i-i want you to feel good too.” he mumbles shyly, averting his gaze elsewhere in embarrassment as you coo. you bring your fingers up to move his face so he’s glancing at you once more, his shining eyes locking with yours and making your heart swell.

chan’s love for you has always been selfless; he doesn’t seem to care for his own pleasure much when it comes to you and always insists on making you feel good over having himself do so. it’s one of the things you’ve grown so familiar with when being around him, and before he came along, the concept of someone being so giving had never even crossed your mind. you’re aware a part of it lies in the fact that you’re his first— first kiss, first time, first everything. it used to scare you before, making you feel like he was missing out on what everyone else could offer him by being stuck to you, but the minute the possibility of him having the experiences he shared with you with somebody else became a reality, you knew you could give less of a fuck about being selfish.

because right now in this very moment, or two hours from now, one day from today, a few weeks from this time, and in every lifetime to come too, you wanted chan. you wanted him on his good or bad days, wanted him through thick or thin, and wanted him even if you had the chance to choose from anybody in the world. he’d become it for you, and god, were you glad he felt the same way.

“it makes me feel good when you do, baby.” you remind him, flashing him a smile that makes his insides melt. “but, if you insist, then who am i to deny my pretty boy?” chan has to bite back the grin that threatens to spread across his face at your words. your pretty boy. yours. he’d wanted to be nothing more ever since you walked into his life and now he finally had it, the idea being so incredulously unfathomable to him that he doesn’t even register you taking off your top. it’s only when your fingers graze his cheek and you lean in for another kiss that he notices you’re now half naked and straddling him, a noise of pleasure leaving his mouth at the realisation which you swallow up. your lips slot against his so perfectly, almost like they’re two pieces of the same puzzle finally meeting each other, warmth blooming in both of you at the idea of being each other’s missing link.

“no, no, just lemme pull ‘em to the side.” you pull back and whisper when he lifts your skirt to yank down your underwear. shakily, you reach below and hook your fingers into the damp material, tugging it to one end and exposing your wetness that nearly drips out of you. chan has to hold back the dirty noises that bubble inside him at the sight of your soaked panties, but even more so when you grab his length and line him up to your entrance. both of you can’t stop your sighs of long deserved relief when his tip breaches your opening, barely sucked in but still nestled inside, and before chan can beg you to put him all the way in, you’re sitting down on his cock completely, biting your lip at the burning stretch.

“fuck.” is the only thing that you hear from chan once he’s fully bottomed out, looking up to see him staring down at where you’re both connected with blown out pupils. his gaze makes you burn up, involuntarily causing you to clench to the point your boy is digging his nails into your side, leaving crescents in your skin for you to wake up to tomorrow. “missed you so much.” chan’s voice is strained alongside the small laugh that escapes him, his hips slightly bucking up and causing you to whimper as the sound goes straight to his dick. he has to physically stop himself from fucking up into you, your warmth enveloping him in the best way possible.

“please move, princess. please.” he begs, pleas dripping with raw desire as he gazes up at you with wide eyes. it’s all the confirmation you need to slowly lift your hips up and lower them down on his, your warm walls clinging to his cock having the both of you moaning out loud at the feeling it provides instantly.

your movements are slow, deep and deliberate with how you rock your hips in a gentle grind against chan’s length buried to the hilt inside you. the angle of your bodies locked together allows his mushroom head to breach far inside you, and it almost feels like he’s all the way in your stomach. chan’s cock has always been girthy and heavy, a large vein protruding along the side of his shaft and leading to the bulbous tip of his dick. the first time you took him, let him feel what it’s like to not just fuck his fist, he almost tore you in half with his misplaced, rabid actions. but right now, with you riding him in the backseat of his car, the windows fogging up and no doubt giving away your scandalous activities, he feels even larger in you, especially with how he pushes up to meet you halfway.

“baby.” you mewl at a particularly well-placed thrust, preening at how his cockhead brushes against that spot tucked safely inside, and chan bites his lip at the way your face is contorted in absolute bliss. he brings one of his knobby digits up to wet it before trailing it down to press into your clit, and you almost fall forward from the sudden jolt of pleasure. “s’good?” he murmurs, continuing to rub tight circles on your swollen nub as you whimper in agreement, vision going crosseyed from how great your body feels at the moment.

sex with chan is always an experience to say the least. you still remember the time he lost his virginity to you, rutting inside your heat freely in his childhood bedroom at a study session gone wrong (or right even) with the headboard bumping into the wall. thankfully, nobody was home that day, and you got the privilege of being as loud as you wanted, an occurrence you didn’t expect to happen because well, everything was new to chan. you hadn’t anticipated him being able to make you cum at all, but he had anyway, drawing at least one orgasm from you with his mouth and fingers before he even slipped in. the entire act had been so.. domestic. the way he’d held you, let you use him, and how he’d kissed you so tenderly, it really should’ve dawned on you right then and there that there was no escaping this. chan had gotten you in the palm of his hand from the start contrary to what he thought; you just hadn’t been aware of it until now.

“i love you.” chan blurts out suddenly, drawing you back to reality as the confession falls so easily from his lips, and your heart races for what feels like the nth time today. it makes you fuck back onto him even harder, your actions become more fervent and desperate with how you lift your hips up to slam them back down on his cock. his car is probably rocking back and forth deliriously by now, and when you slap your hand against the glass to stabilise yourself, it leaves an imprint, but neither of you can find it in yourselves to care about that. “you’re the only one for me. always have and always will be.” chan pants out, his whimpers growing louder with the way your pussy tightens around him at his words.

“i love you.” you whine when he pinches your clit slightly between his fingers, feeling your slick juices dripping down the both of you and making a mess of his backseat. “love you so much, channie. you’re my one and only too.” chan shudders at that, wrapping a hand at the back of your neck to pull you in for a messy kiss. it’s a swap of dirty moans and spit, and chan swears he sees heaven when you slip your tongue inside his mouth to lick into it, the knot in his stomach growing closer to snapping.

“cum with me. please, baby, ‘m so close. cum inside me, please, please, please.” you pull away slightly to whimper, smashing your lips back on his to moan muffled against them. chan just nods rapidly at your pleading, feet planted flat on the floor to give him enough leverage for drilling up into you. the slight curve of his cock pistons into that same spot from before, and it isn’t long before your cunt clamps down on him with your high washing over you like a tidal wave. the tingling sensation resonates through your entire body, and you can’t stop lewd sounds from spilling out of you and into chan’s mouth.

chan follows close behind, balls tightening and limbs shaking as his cock twitches inside you. it barely takes him one, two thrusts until he’s painting your walls white in his release, warm cum oozing and almost leaking out of you with how much of it there is. curses and low grunts leave him, and it takes a minute for the two of you to calm down with how intense the spiking pleasure feels. you remain in his embrace until the ringing in your ears dies down, panting onto each other as sweat trickles down your back and his forehead. when you open your eyes, chan has still got his shut, and you lean forward to press a gentle smooch to the underside of his jaw, kissing it until he regains his composure and faces you.

“i think i died.” he sighs in bliss at last, and you can’t help but roll your eyes at his playful remark, yelping when his finger pokes you in the side for your attitude. “better than your other side pieces, huh?” you question breathless, still worn out and tired from your previous activities. chan stares at you in pure confusion as you give him a pointed look like it’ll remind him of the girl you’d seen him with countless times at the party or outside your dorms, and it takes a while until the lightbulb in his head goes off, orbs wide before he’s bursting out in laughter. “it’s not funny, she was all over you.” you grumble at his reaction, crossing your arms across your chest.

“baby, that was just a friend’s ex who was trying to make him jealous. i barely know her.” he explains with a wide grin on his face. “although, it looks like she got to you instead.” chan chortles when you slap him lightly on the shoulder at his words, having the time of his life as you flush bright pink in embarrassment after having gotten worked up over nothing. “still, she didn’t have to call you nicknames and flirt with you.” you try and defend yourself which only makes chan shake his head before cupping your face and pressing a short kiss to your lips.

“‘m all yours, pretty girl. don’t even worry.” he reassures, eyes so full of love that it’s hard to argue against him anymore. you still choose to pout anyways, and he takes that as an invitation to lean in and push his mouth back to yours. each kiss you exchange makes you melt little by little, and by the time chan is pulling away, you’ve forgotten all about what made you mad in the first place. “so,” your ears perk up when he speaks again, and you look down to find his expression filled with slight hesitation.

a beat of silence passes as chan struggles to find the words to say what he wants, choosing to busy himself in fiddling with the ends of your skirt that you’d failed to take off in your frenzy to claim him. you tilt your head to the side in expectance, but your eyes soften as he heaves out a breath that seems to be filled with deep emotion. instinctively, you take his hand that’s playing around with your clothes and intertwine your fingers, squeezing and dragging it up to nuzzle your face into the back of his palm lovingly in hopes it may calm him down. your little plan works, and before you can even speak up yourself to just ask what’s on his mind, chan beats you to it.

“um, what does this make us?” he mumbles quietly, swallowing the small lump that’s forming at the back of his throat. chan doesn’t want to return to whatever it was that you guys had going on prior to what happened just now between you two, and even though you’ve both declared your feelings for one another countless times by now, it’s still unclear where everything stands, or rather where you stand. he wants you to be his, completely and fully so he can show you off to everyone, but fear gnaws him at the back of his mind that maybe that’s not quite what you want. despite what you’d said while entangled with him, he finds it hard to believe that you’d crave for the same relationship he wants, and he prays that he’ll hear the answer from you that he’s yearned for ages by now.

on the other hand, you simply blink at his words, letting them sink into your head. it’s only when they fully register that you break out into a small smile, heart sinking at how chan looks away with worry evident in his eyes. you know you’re the reason behind his reluctance to want more with you, and that it’ll take some time for him to understand your feelings are on par with his and have been for a while, or may even be further ahead at this point, but you’re more than willing to fix that, regardless of how long it takes.

“channie,” your voice comes out soft and sweet, and chan resists the urge to tear up at the way you call his nickname with so much love. he gulps when you tilt his face to look at yours, shoulders relaxing instantly when he sees you beaming back at him. it’s insane to think how a simple happy look from you makes him feel lighter on his own feet, but with the way some of the anxiety brewing inside him seems to fade away after having gotten a glimpse of your smiling face, he thinks it’s far from implausible.

“if it’s okay with you, and if you’ll have me once more,” you take a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves before saying the next of your sentence. “then, i’d love to be your girlfriend.”

chan’s world seems to slow down at your words, the sentence you’d just uttered seeming to have cast some sort of spell on him. it’s like everything in his surroundings fades away into silent noise or sightless objects, and he can’t stop the way his mouth falls open slightly. you want to be his girlfriend? his girlfriend? you, the absolute love of his life, the one person he never thought he could have, want to be his officially? he looks up at you dumbfounded as if you’d just presented the most disbelieving offer of all time, although he supposes you kind of have done that honestly.

“i mean, it’s fine if that’s not what you want.” your voice drags him out of his thoughts, leaving him blinking as you start to blurt out more stuff in your nervous haze. “i’m aware i behaved stupidly and pushed you away for no reason, and maybe you said everything in the heat of the moment, and now that we’re done with it all, you’ve changed your mind and want nothing to do with me, and—“

now it’s chan’s turn to cut off your rambling, his body surging forward to capture your lips with his again, and it doesn’t take long before you’re succumbing to his touch much like the previous instances you’ve melted into him, eyes slipping shut as he cradles your face in his fingers delicately. his entire hold on you is gentle, like you’re a piece of expensive china that might break if he even so as much makes a sudden move. the way he embraces you is filled with tender, all-consuming love, and you think you might start crying once more if he continues with his actions.

“is this real?” he whispers against you, still in complete shock when you nod slowly as an answer to his question, a disbelieving laugh leaving him as he shakes his head. “you’re mine now? like you, the girl of my actual dreams?” his questions have you visibly relaxing, and any and all doubt physically leaves you as you smile back at him in approval, laughing when he hugs you tightly to his chest. “i’m so fucking lucky.” chan breathes out in content, leaving you to simply bury your flustered face into his neck at the way he sounds so utterly in awe.

“ah, wait, no.” he suddenly starts, pulling back to look at you. his curls stick messily over his eyes, and you move to brush them back under his signature hat to get a clearer look at the features of the man you’ve fallen so deep for. “i have to ask you properly to commemorate the occasion.” he purses his lips, mustering up a serious expression that basically makes you simper, far too blinded in love to even point out or make fun of how silly he’s being. because that’s just chan. your chan.

“y/n l/n,” chan clears his throat, taking your hand in his and holding it over his rapidly beating heart which you can feel thumping under your palm. “will you do the honour of letting me be your boyfriend?” he asks, eyes twinkling when you giggle, so enamoured that you can’t resist leaning your forehead against his, nodding instantly.

“i’d love nothing more, bang christopher chan.”

. . .

comments and reblogs are always appreciated! <3

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wh0reforcoriolanussnow · 1 year ago

Note

please do one where they were like in a secret relationship and one day reader went live for her fans and idk maybe Tom walked in and now the secret's out. It's up to you how you go abt it. Have a nice day!!

Caught in 4k || Tom Blyth x gf!reader

A/n: Anon you read my mind.... I had this idea sitting in my drafts for quite some time!

Warnings: none!

Wc: 983

Divider by @pommecita

You stir in your sleep when you feel light kisses on your arm. "Good morning, love," He says, his morning voice making you smile as you turn around and place a kiss on his cheek, a smile adorning his lips. His arms wrap themselves around your waist as you both lay still, neither wanting to pull away from the embrace.

"I'm going to go for a shower," You say against his neck, his hands coming to your hips as he massages them. "Can I join?" His tone teasing as you consider the idea. "I fear if you do, we won't make it out of the bathroom for quite a bit," A smirk forms on his lips as you get out of bed, his hand still clinging to yours.

"I don't mind!" He calls out as you flip him off, not bothering to turn around as you shut the door behind you. After the calming shower, you wrap your body in a fluffy white towel as you squeeze out the excess water from your hair, letting it air dry.

You start to brush your teeth as you hear the bathroom door opening. Tom enters in only his boxers as he makes his way to you, arms wrapping around your towel cladded body as you lean back against him. You smile at him through the reflection you mouth frothy with the toothpaste as he smiles back at you.

You bend over to spit out the toothpaste as Tom pretends to fuck you from behind as laughs erupt from your mouth. You lean back up, slapping him across his chest as he smiles innocently at you. Going on your tippy toes, your arms loop around his neck and place a kiss on his lips, a few actually, as you both smile in between them.

"I feel like making pancakes, do you want blueberries or chocolate chips in yours?" You ask him whilst applying lip balm on your lips as he turns the shower on. "Chocolate chips please," He grins at you as give him a thumbs up and walk out picking out an outfit.

You pull back the curtains revealing dark clouds that littered across the sky of Brooklyn. You smile to yourself knowing today was going to full of cuddles and watching Harry Potter films with Tom. Walking down stairs, a thought plagued your mind.

You wanted to go live on Instagram as you felt as if it had been too long since the last time you did one. You leaned your phone up against a fruit bowl as you start the live. "Hey guys!" You smile as you watch thousands of people join in a matter of seconds.

You then continued to pull out the ingredients to make pancakes as you answer some of the questions that people asked. Tom walks down a few minutes later, wondering who you were talking to as your voice travelled upstairs.

He sees you in the kitchen, your back towards him as you talk about the weather. He decided to surprise you so he slowly walked up behind you and wraps his arms around you as you slightly jump. "Fucks sake, you scared me!" You sulked as Tom laughs, peppering the side of your face with kisses as your hands go up to his arms around your neck.

"Oh shit," You silently curse as you freeze, remembering you were still live on Instagram, "What?" He asks confused. You discreetly glance back and mentally face palm yourself as your phone was directly aimed at the two of you which meant that thousands of people witnessed it and most definitely concluded that you and Tom were together, which was very much the truth.

"I'm live on Insta," You whisper as you feel Tom physically pause as well, probably processing your words. He turns his head and makes eye contact with himself on your phone as he awkwardly chuckles. "Oh hey.." He trails off as you burst out laughing. "I'm going to go put a shirt on," Tom quickly says as he runs up stairs to get one.

You watch as comments blow up and you couldn't contain your smile. Everyone was going crazy as they flooded the comments with questions. You hear Tom walk back down, a shirt on his previously naked upper body as you hold out you hand and he takes is. "Well, guess it's out," He chuckles as the both of you read the comments.

Tom leans his hand against the counter as you rest your head on his arm. "Shit, I almost forgot the pancakes!" You panic as you go back to the stove and continue cooking the batter. You and Tom kept your relationship as private as you could, fans speculated that you were dating each other but nothing was confirmed, well until the live of course.

"How long have you two been together?" Tom reads out loud as you get plates for the two of you. "3 years now is it?" You say as Tom thinks about it, "Yeah, 4 years coming this September," he smiles. You come up beside him, resting your chin on your hands that were on the counter as you read through the comments, too immersed to notice that Tom was staring down at you with a huge smile on his face.

A comment mentioning how Tom is looking at you makes you look behind you, "What?" You shyly laugh as he says nothing, shaking his head. Tom takes over with making the pancakes and eventually they are done. "Well guys I'm going to end the live here and eat these pancakes with my wonderful boyfriend, bye!" You say as you end it.

You make eye contact with Tom as you both start laughing. He hugs you and kisses your forehead. "At least we don't have to keep hiding this in public anymore," He says as you agree with him.

#tom blyth #fanfiction #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth x you #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus x you #the hunger games #hunger games ballad of songbirds and snakes #tom blyth x gf!reader

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soaps-mohawk · 9 months ago

Text

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 15: Bonnie

Summary: Your heat is over and your pack has moved on with their lives, settling back into the familiar routine. Except, some things have begun to change, and you're not entirely sure if its for the better.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 7456 words

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, oral, handjobs, overstimulation, P in V sex, unprotected sex, creampie, hair pulling, switch Johnny, Johnny's lingerie kink, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, language, mention of nightmares, brief talk about killing and violence, insomnia, fluff, and of course a bit of angst

A/N: This chapter was an absolute bitch to write. I'm not kidding this was a nightmare. I'm happy with the changes I've made though, and how things are progressing. We've made a little bit of a time jump here, but not much. I think I'm getting sick so, posting the chapter before I inevitably pass out again. Oh, and Happy Easter everyone that celebrates.

Want early access to chapters, as well as other bonus content? Consider supporting me on Patreon.

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

Your eyes fly open as the alarm blares. They burn as you squint against the bright phone light. An arm reaches over you, the warm skin sliding against your back as he fumbles to turn off the offending noise.

You let out a quiet groan as you catch the numbers dictating the time on the screen before the phone is placed back on the nightstand. “‘S too early.” You grumble, rubbing at your crusty eyes.

“Go back to sleep.” John murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder before he shifts, climbing over you to get out of the bed. He tucks the blankets back around you before slipping into the bathroom.

You won't go back to sleep. The last time you'd glanced at the time on your phone had been two hours ago, at 2 A.M. You’ve been awake most of the night, as you have been the last couple nights. You haven't been sleeping well. It was like your heat opened a floodgate and now every time you close your eyes, you're transported back into the past, back when you were a child. Back when things weren't fine.

You've started trying to avoid sleep, waking constantly during the night from nightmares or from your brain’s own fear of them starting back up. It’s only been a week since your heat ended, and yet you feel no more rested than you did coming out of it. Nothing you’ve tried has worked, not even staying awake until you inevitably pass out prevents your subconscious mind from pulling up the horrible memories of your past.

Even sleeping next to your alpha hasn’t provided any comfort for your mind. His presence isn’t enough to quell the fear in your mind that the nightmares might come back, that the memories might surface.

Even he can’t protect you from this.

You close your eyes as the bathroom door opens again, pretending to sleep as John dresses for his morning workout. He’s quiet, near silent as he moves about the room. It’s almost terrifying how quiet they can be. Though, you suppose, if your survival depends on it, it’s a skill you’d spend plenty of time honing.

John grabs his phone from the nightstand, running a gentle hand over your head before he leaves the room, closing the door quietly behind him. You lay there for a few minutes, trying not to let the guilt eat you alive. You should tell them you’re struggling to sleep, that your mind is plaguing you with memories from your past, but you’re afraid of what they might think of you. You’re not the perfect omega, you’re not as whole as you might seem.

You’re held together with duct tape on the inside. They already have enough to worry about now, they don’t need the weight of your misery thrown on top of the loads they all carry.

You let out a long breath, turning over in John’s bed. You press your face into the pillow, inhaling the imprint of his scent on the fabric. It’s still warm where he was laying, and you shuffle over into that spot, letting your body go lax as you imagine him still there with you, arms still wrapped around your body. You want to bury yourself in his arms, press against his chest until you sink into him and become one.

Only then, perhaps you can feel safe enough to sleep.

You press your face further into the pillow, every inhale filled with John’s scent. It lulls you into a daze, the hypnagogic stage between sleep and wakefulness.

You jolt as a hand touches your arm, calluses smoothing over the bare skin. You blink your eyes open, letting out a quiet groan. It’s light outside now, the room bathed in white light instead of the yellow tinge of the nightlight John had bought for his room for you.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” John says, gently squeezing your arm. He’s already dressed for the day, hair still damp from the shower. You hadn’t even noticed he’d returned.

You roll over, rubbing your eyes. “‘S fine. Didn’t even know I was asleep. Breakfast time?”

John hums, leaning over you. “Almost. You’ve got time to get ready.”

You blink up at him blearily, your mind still trying to wake up completely after your short nap. You stare up into his eyes, getting lost in their blue depths. You feel like you could swim in them, his deep earthy scent drawing forward memories of camping and swimming in the lake. Memories you could pretend were happy, memories not tainted by fear and grief.

“Christ,” He breathes, pressing his lips to yours. “So fucking beautiful.”

Your cheeks warm at his words, your lips moving against his as you kiss. You trail a hand up his arm, sliding it to his back. His shirt is soft, thin enough that you can feel the muscles in his back as you smooth your hand across his shoulder blades.

“Wish I could stay here all day.” He murmurs, his face pressing into your throat. You tilt your head for him, a quiet groan rumbling through his chest at your sign of submission. He sighs, pressing his nose against your scent gland for a moment before he straightens back up. “Got a job to do.”

You let out a groan as you stretch, arching your back. “Fuck your job.”

“I’d much rather be fucking you.” He says, leaning down to nip at your bottom lip before he stands up, grabbing the shirt you’d worn to slip into his room last night off the floor. It’s one of his, one you’d stolen from his laundry hamper while he was in the shower. “Don’t let anyone hear you say that.”

You grin, pushing the sheets down before sitting up on the edge of the bed. You rub your eyes tiredly, stretching again before pulling on his shirt, slipping your slippers on. You pad back to your room, changing into more appropriate clothes for breakfast. You’ll be left to your own devices again afterward as the guys return to their normal training schedule. You won’t be napping this time, though, you fear. Instead you’ll be looking for ways to keep yourself awake.

You and John walk hand in hand to the mess. It’s been a while since you’ve been inside of it, and you find you’ve grown to miss it a bit. You don’t miss the stares, the looks that pass over you and your entwined hands as John leads you to the line to get food. It’s like they know, like they all somehow witnessed what had transpired over the last couple weeks, like they had all been spectators to it.

John makes your tray for you again, carrying it to the table where the others are already seated. You take your normal spot next to Kyle, both him and John sitting closer to you than before. Perhaps they were picking up on your nervous energy, but even Johnny and Ghost seemed to be sitting closer. You cast a glance between them before digging into your tray. Something had transpired, but you’re not quite sure what.

You might never get to know.

It’s quiet as you eat, the coffee bitter and watery, but you don’t care. You’ll suffer anything that might give you a boost of energy to make it to lunch without falling asleep.

Johnny walks you back to the barracks after breakfast is over, his arm around your waist as you take your time crossing the courtyard. He’s oddly quiet compared to how energetic he usually is this early in the morning. Something must have happened to make him silent.

“Johnny?” You ask after a group of soldiers jog past behind you.

He hums, looking down at you. His eyes are still bright, but his brows are slightly furrowed.

“Is everything alright?” You ask carefully, not wanting to risk pushing any buttons.

“Aye.” He answers after letting out a sigh. “Jus’ an incident in the gym this mornin’. Nothing ye need tae worry about.”

You raise your brows at him, silently conveying your desire for more information, if he can give you any.

“Just some alphas talkin’ shite, like they do. Callin’ ye the 141’s whore. Askin’ if we all take turns or if ye let us all go at once.” He says, his tone practically seething as he leads you into the barracks. “Simon reminded them of their place.”

You can only imagine how that went.

Despite their obvious tension at the jabs made at you by the other alphas, you don't feel as angry as you probably should. Being called a whore was a bit demeaning, but part of what was said wasn't entirely wrong. Perhaps it's just some leftover hormones surging from your heat, or maybe being claimed has shifted your feelings towards your packmates, but the idea of being shared by them has warmth spreading through you. The mental images piecing together in your mind of taking them all at once would probably make the alphas that made that jab at you blush furiously.

“Johnny?” You ask, turning to him when you reach your door.

“Aye?” He stares down at you, his blue eyes soft as they gaze down into your own.

“I, uh, I wouldn’t mind if at least part of what they said was true...” You sink your teeth into your lip. “You...uh...you’ve been waiting for a while...for your turn.”

He gulps, shifting slightly on his feet. You can’t tell if he’s nervous or excited or something in between.

“Well, I’ve been officially cleared to partake in more...strenuous activities..”

“Christ.” He breathes, crowding you against the door. For a moment you’re worried he might just do it right here, right now, but instead he leans in, close enough you can smell the coffee he had with his breakfast. “I’d love that, kitten.” He bites his own lip as he stares down at yours. “Let me know, and I’ll be ready for you.” He leans down, closing the short distance between you as he kisses you.

You lean into him, kissing him back. It feels like the first time you kissed him, except you can feel the hunger, the restraint behind this kiss. You can feel how much he’s been holding back, how long he’s waited to finally have this moment. To think of anyone desiring you in such a way makes your head spin. He wants you for you, not what you can do for him, not what you can give to him. Not even just for what’s between your legs, even if that’s what you’re going to do.

He wants to be with you because you’re you. He doesn’t have to, he could choose not to, but he does.

He pulls away, staring down at you. His eyes are darker now, speaking promises of what’s to come. “When you’re ready, I’ll be waiting.”

“You're tired.”

You blink, your gaze snapping to his face. You had been drifting thoughtlessly, quite enamored with a single spot on the floor. You're not sure how long he let you stand there, empty-headed and practically dozing upright.

You rub your eyes, trying to force your brain back to awareness. “It's early.” You give the excuse, toeing off your shoes. “Been a while since we've done this.”

“You're going to have to work extra hard to gain it all back.” Ghost says, pulling off his sweatshirt.

Your eyes are immediately drawn to his arms, the strength in them, the tattoos on his skin. You bite back the desire to move closer, to get just a glimpse at one close up. You want to sit and trace them, hear the story of every single one. You want to push his sleeve up, watch the way his muscles bulge and flex, see how far his tattoo goes up his arm.

You snap yourself out of your thoughts, moving onto the mat before you do something embarrassing like starting to drool. You watch him as he stands at the edge of the mat, brown eyes taking you in as you stand there. Something tickles in the back of your mind, a hint of fear, the sense of sudden danger prevalent. What would you do if he suddenly ran at you? Try to dodge and make it to the door? Where would you go? The med center again?

“Easy.” He grumbles, sensing your obvious tension.

Your gaze snaps back to him, his posture relaxed as he stays still. “I'm putting a lot of trust in you.”

“I know.” He says, standing almost as still as a statue. You wonder how he can possibly be so still, but you suppose it's something he learned to do. “I should never have broken that trust in the first place.”

Your eyes widen, brows lifting as you stare at him. You didn't expect such a straightforward apology from him. You haven't really gotten one, until now. You hesitate as you stand there in silence, Ghost obviously waiting for your response.

“I don't know if I can forgive you.” You finally say.

“You shouldn't.” He shrugs, his gaze shifting to the wall behind you. “Even if you weren't really in danger, it was still a dick move.”

Your eyebrows raise even higher. “An apology and admitting you were a dick? Should I be worried?”

He huffs out a breath, shaking his head. “Consider it an offering of amicability, for Johnny. I know you two are getting close, so inevitably we're going to find ourselves around each other more often than we have previously.”

“Well, I suppose I could accept that.” You say, shifting on your feet. “I don't think you could convince Johnny otherwise.”

“Hardly. He wouldn't listen anyway.” He finally moves, shifting on his feet. “You gonna put your hackles down so I can approach?”

You take a deep breath, relaxing the tension in your body. You don't really have a reason to fear him, despite what he did. He hasn't given you a reason to fear him since then, and he's even gone so far as to apologize in his own way. John wouldn't have allowed this to start again if he didn't trust Ghost not to do something that might put you in danger.

John trusts him, so you should be able to as well.

Ghost slowly approaches, your eyes watching him carefully until he's directly in front of you. You stare up at him, holding his gaze. You wish you could see the rest of his face on the off chance it might give you a hint at what he's thinking and feeling. You wonder if that's partially why he wears the mask.

Ghost holds out his hand and you place your own in his. It's so much bigger than yours, his long fingers engulfing your wrist as he wraps your hand. You could probably do it yourself by this point, but you like making him do it. You like the way his hands hold yours, the roughness of his skin against your own.

He starts out reviewing things you already know. Punches, kicks, dodging. It doesn't take long for you to get back into the groove of things, moving like it hasn't been nearly a month since your last training session. You notice the fatigue faster than you had during your last session, but you expected that after almost a month, paired with your heat two weeks ago.

“Now, punching and kicking will only get you so far in a fight.” He says, giving you a moment to breathe. “Almost all fights are going to end up on the ground. Even if your goal is disarming enough to escape, the chances of you and your opponent ending up on the ground is highly likely.”

He swipes your feet out from under you before you can even blink, nearly knocking the wind from you as you land on the mat on your back. He’s on you quickly, dropping to his hands and knees over you. Your breath catches in your throat as you stare at him above you, his hulking form seeming even larger from this angle. Your mind begins to run wild, imagining all the things that could happen in this position.

“Focus.” He grumbles, arms flexing as he presses his hands into the mat where they rest on either side of your head. “You don’t want to be in this position in a fight. You’re too vulnerable.”

A shiver runs down your spine at his words. You are vulnerable like this. Even with him, someone who doesn’t want to hurt you, it would be so easy. Your head begins to turn, your gaze leaving his as instinct begins to take over.

“No.” He snaps, gripping your chin to turn your head back so he’s looking in your eyes. “You do that in a fight, you’re not going to see the other side.”

You gulp, trying to ignore the warmth of his fingers on your face, the firmness of his grip as he keeps you from showing submission to him. That’s not why you’re here. He’s right. If you do that in a fight, it’ll be over before you even have a chance to run.

“Your legs are far stronger than your arms. Use them to your advantage.” He says, showing you how to get him into the right position to flip him.

You know he’s helping you as you flip him onto his back. If he really was fighting you, you’re not sure you could have done it, even if you managed to land enough of a hit to disarm him. You wind up on top of him, sitting on his stomach. The position doesn’t help your racing thoughts, and you pray you can keep enough control over yourself so you don’t make it obvious.

“Use your legs to pin my hands.” He directs you. You shift your knees slightly, trapping his hands against the mat. “Good.” He says, laying still under you. “You can’t hold a bigger opponent down here for long, but that’s not the point. This gives you a moment of opportunity to go for the face or the neck. Stun them and that gives you a headstart. If you have a weapon available, then you have one less person to worry about chasing you.”

You gulp at his words. It hadn’t even crossed your mind during your training. He had said it so simply, so easily. You suppose it is to him, after years of doing it, after countless moments where it’s his life or theirs. Is that what he tells himself? Is that how he rationalizes it? Is there so much blood on his hands now that killing is as easy as breathing?

You wonder how they all rationalize it. They all have blood on their hands, they all have killed, and will kill again. Every time they leave and come back, it’s with more blood, more nameless faces on the list of lives they've taken, all in the name of the greater good.

Is violence and death really the path to the greater good?

“What?” He asks, sensing your inner turmoil.

You sit back on his stomach, your body rising and falling with his even breaths. “I don’t know if I could do it.”

He tugs his hands from beneath your knees easily, resting them on the mat next to your legs. You can feel his fingers twitch as the blood rushes back into them. “You might not have much of a choice.” He says, holding your gaze. There’s a softness in his gaze you have never seen before. “Sometimes it’s the only choice. If they’re attacking you, they’re better off dead. Even if their goal is to take you alive, the things they’ll do to you.” He shakes his head.

He’s speaking from experience. You know he’s seen things, witnessed the brutality omegas are subjected to at the hands of the worst kinds of alphas and betas. He’s watched omegas die in front of him while he’s sat helpless.

His hand lifts, cupping the back of your head to pull you down closer to his face. You catch yourself with your hands on either side of his head, fighting the urge to tense your shoulders. His hand doesn’t move from the back of your head, his fingers not even twitching as he holds you steady.

“If they’re willing to do it to you, how many others have been on the receiving end? If you’re not willing to be the last, how many others will come after you?” He says, his gaze intense as he stares at you. “I hope you never have to, but you always have to prepare for the worst.”

He holds you there for a breath, staring up into your eyes before he releases you, flipping you off of him and onto your back on the mat. He pushes himself up to stand, staring down at you as you lay there, catching your breath and thinking over the last few moments that transpired.

“Come on. It’s almost time for breakfast.”

It’s quiet in the rec room. The TV is off for once, only the hum of electricity and the occasional turning of a page the only sound breaking the silence. You and Ghost are the only two in the rec room, both of you relaxing silently as you read. He’s in the chair as usual, and you’re stretched out on the couch.

You’re only halfway paying attention to your book, still thinking over your conversation with Johnny earlier, and what transpired in the gym during your training session yesterday. You know how much Johnny wants to be with you, and you're more than willing to go that far with him. You like Johnny, more than just as a packmate. It's hard not to fall for him with his confidence and his playful demeanor. You know he's been desperate to take things to the next level too.

All he's waiting on is you saying the word.

He will never force you into it. He'll impatiently wait for you to go to him, to tell him that you want it. All jokes and teasing aside, you know he'd never make you feel like you were being forced into something.

The thought makes you want to cry.

“Pull his hair.” Ghost’s voice cuts through the silence, nearly making you jump.

You lower your book so you can see him, eyebrows raising in surprise at his words. “What?”

“When you finally fuck Johnny, grab him by the mohawk. He likes it.” Ghost says, not even looking up from his own book.

You stare at him wide-eyed, wondering for a moment if he can read minds, or if you’re just not quite as subtle as you think you’re being.

“I'll, uh, keep that in mind.” You say, lifting your book again to hide your blushing face.

The room descends into silence once more, the two of you continuing to read as if nothing had happened, as if that conversation hadn’t transpired. You wish it felt that way in your mind, though. The mental images Ghost’s words have drawn up drowning out the words on the pages that you’re trying to read. You’re trying not to get worked up further, but you can’t help it. After your training session and the thoughts that had come to mind with Ghost, and now these new images of Johnny, you’re sure your scent has begun to sweeten with arousal.

You need to rectify this, and fast.

You knock on the door, shifting nervously on your feet. Your hands have disappeared in your sleeves, the weight of your phone in your pocket the only thing keeping you from floating to the ceiling and dissipating into the air from the anxiety.

Your stomach nearly drops from your body as the door swings open, Gaz standing there in his full glory.

“Everything alright?” He asks, staring down at you with those big brown eyes. “You look nervous.”

You swallow the nerves, nodding in response. “Yeah, I just...wanted to talk to you for a minute.”

He steps away from the door, brows still pinched in worry and confusion as he motions for you to enter. You brush past him as you step into his room, taking a look around. You haven't been in his room before. It's slightly smaller than yours and John's, and it doesn't have a private bathroom. There's artwork up on the walls, and a couple of plants on his desk, along with a few personal belongings. It's neat and tidy, not that you expected anything less.

“What did you want to talk about?” He asks, turning to face you after closing the door.

You take a deep breath, calming the nervous twist in your stomach. You shouldn’t be nervous. It’s a natural thing to bring up to packmates. You blame it on the fatigue from your lack of sleep putting you on edge.

“I wanted to ask you something.” You start, staring into his big brown eyes. They’re so beautiful, so expressive as they stare down at you. “Johnny and I...we’re going to...sleep together soon and...I just wanted to make sure that was okay? In case maybe you wanted to go first?”

Kyle’s lips slowly lift up into a smile as you stare at him nervously, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “He’s been an absolute tosser since before your heat, and he’d only become utterly unbearable if he didn’t get to go first.” He steps up closer to you, grinning down at you. “For the sake of everyone’s sanity, I don’t mind being patient. Besides,” He leans down, his breath fanning your ear. “I at least know what you look like naked, so I can occupy myself while I wait.”

Your face burns with warmth at his words, a shiver running down your spine. He’s not wrong. He’s seen you at your most vulnerable, lost to your heat, naked and stuffed with John’s knot. Your brain flashes back to the start of your heat, the feel of his fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your pajama pants. You swallow thickly, meeting his gaze as he pulls back.

“Enjoy your time with Johnny, love.” He slips his hand into yours, lifting it to his lips. He presses a soft kiss to your knuckles, lips brushing your skin as he speaks. “I’ll be here waiting for you when you’re ready.”

You feel a bit out of breath as you leave Kyle’s room, and you’re sure your scent has sweetened with arousal and excitement. You might have been tempted to just jump Kyle’s bones right now, had it not been for your desire for Johnny, and your commitment to letting him be first again. You know Kyle’s right. You’d never hear the end of it if Johnny didn’t get the chance to be next in line.

Now you just have to find him and tell him the good news.

“Ye look nervous. Are ye nervous?”

“I mean, this is a big step...” You say, wrapping your arms around Johnny’s neck as he shifts you into his lap. You try not to think about how strong he is, how easily he moves you.

“Ye don’t have tae do this, if ye don’ want to.” He says, looking down into your eyes.

“It’s not that...” You say, shifting in his lap. “It’s more...there’s no going back after this.”

He wraps his arms tighter around you. “If I didnae want it, I wouldnae offer. Yer a fucking stunnin’ omega, kitten. Would be crazy not tae want ye.”

Your cheeks warm at his words, your gaze dropping from the intensity of his own. His stubble tickles your fingers as you trace the line of his jaw, working your way towards his lips. His tongue darts out, wetting his bottom lip as your fingers trace the jagged scar on his chin.

“Just...go easy on me? At least this first time?” You say, tracing his lips with your fingers.

“‘Course, kitten.” He says, pressing a kiss to your fingertips. “Wouldnae want to scare ye away.”

Your eyes widen slightly at the implications of his words, your stomach fluttering with excitement and a hint of fear at what he could possibly be alluding to. His hand lifts, gently grasping your chin, tilting your face slightly. He closes the distance between you, pressing his lips to yours.

“Don’ worry.” He murmurs against your lips. “Take good care of ye.”

You hum against his lips, tasting the chocolate he’d been snacking on when you sought him out as his tongue slips into your mouth. His hand leaves your chin, sliding down your throat to rest right at the base of your throat, fingers splayed across your clavicle. His thumb rests right on the edge of your mating mark, the pressure making you shiver.

Johnny pulls you tighter against his chest, your arms wrapping around his neck. He moans against your lips as you shift against him, the bulge in his pants pressing against your ass. It’s not the first time you’ve felt it, but this time it’s different. This time you’re going to do something about it.

“Fucking christ, take ye right here on this couch, if I’m not careful.” Johnny groans, nipping at your bottom lip.

“Then best take me to bed, Sergeant.” You say, pulling back slightly to give him what you hope is a sultry look.

The groan that’s pulled from his lips is downright salacious, something flashing in his eyes as you call him by his rank. He curses, tightening his hold around you before he stands, maneuvering you so you’re tossed over his shoulder. You let out a squeak of surprise that’s quickly replaced by giggles as he packs you down the hall to his room.

He sets you on your feet once you're inside, closing the door. You look around his room, surprised to see it full of art supplies with drawings and paintings all over the walls. You stare open mouthed, taking it all in. It's messier than John and Kyle's rooms, though there's still a sense of order to it. A chaotic order, but you suppose that explains Johnny perfectly.

“You draw?” You say, studying the art on the walls.

“Aye,” Johnny says, coming up behind you. “In my free time.”

“I didn't know that.” A small smile tugs at your lips. “They're beautiful.”

“Thank ye, kitten.” He wraps his arms around you from behind, reminding you of why you came in here in the first place. “Not quite as beautiful as you.”

Your face warms at his compliment and you tilt your head back, staring up at him. “You're such a charmer.”

“Try my best.” He grins, leaning down and kissing your forehead. “Promise I'll show ye my drawings later.”

You turn in his arms, wrapping your own around his neck. “I know. You're desperate.”

“Been waitin’ weeks for this, kitten.” He groans, grinding against you.

He leans down, pressing his lips to yours. You tighten your grip around his neck, jumping into his arms. He manages to catch you, stumbling half a step back as his hands grip your thighs. You wrap your legs around his waist, lifting yourself so you’re face to face with him.

“Christ.” He groans against your lips, walking forward until he reaches his bed.

He drops you on your back, your body bouncing on the mattress as he settles on his knees over you. His eyes have darkened as he stares down at you, your stomach twisting in excitement. Warmth has started to pool between your legs, your scent sweetening with arousal.

Johnny’s hands are rough as they slip under your shirt, tugging it up over your head. He groans, eyes fluttering as he realizes you’re without a bra underneath. He curses quietly, something you can’t quite understand as his hands immediately close around your breasts. Your lips part as he squeezes the flesh in his hands, leaning down to take a nipple in his mouth. You gasp at the sensation as his lips close around the sensitive bud, suckling at it like he’s a man starved.

Well, you suppose he is.

He has been waiting for quite a while for this opportunity. Something about it makes your brain tingle, arousal pooling in your stomach at the thought of someone desiring you that much.

It’s not just him, though. Three of the four members of your pack have expressed their desire for you in such a way. The thought makes your head spin. You’re just a simple omega, and yet, here they are going half crazy over you.

Johnny releases your nipple with a pop, shifting so he can give the same attention to the other one. Arousal continues to pool between your legs, your arms wrapping around his shoulders. You drag your fingernails across the back of his neck, a shiver wracking through his body, his hips grinding down against your thigh.

“Fuck,” He gasps, releasing your nipple to stare up at you.

You repeat the motion, dragging your fingers slower. His eyes roll back, hips grinding harder against your thigh. He’s so sensitive, you think, pushing your thigh up against him. He lets out what can only be described as almost a whine, rutting his hips against your leg.

“Fuck,” He curses again, pushing himself back up onto his knees. “Tonight is about you, kitten.” He takes a deep breath before slipping his fingers under the waistband of your pants, tugging them down quickly and tossing them on the floor next to your shirt.

He sinks his teeth into his lip as he stares down at your panties, one of the pairs he got you on your shopping trip before your date with John. You had changed into them specifically for Johnny, remembering how excited he’d looked when he bought you five pairs of the lacy garments. He groans quietly as he runs his fingers over your lace covered skin, slowly lowering his fingers between your thighs. He glances up at you, meeting his gaze and you give him a nod before his fingers dip lower, trailing the wet spot on the lacy fabric.

You part your legs more for him as he rubs you through your panties, quiet moans leaving your lips at the feeling of the friction from the fabric. His eyes are still on you, glued to your face as the pleasure begins to build just from his touch. You buck your hips against his hand, searching out more. More pleasure, more of his touch, more of him.

“Look at ye, needy little thing.” He groans, his thumb dragging up your slit until he finds your clit, slowly circling it through the fabric. “Barely touched ye an’ yer cunt’s already soakin’ yer skids. Fucking sweet little thing, so needy for me, aren’t ye?”

You push yourself up onto your elbows, staring down at him. “Are you going to sit there and run your mouth all night, or are you going to fuck me?”

He grins wickedly at you. “I’m just gettin’ started, kitten.”

He leans down, pressing a kiss to the inside of your knee before trailing kisses up your inner thigh. His thumb continues to stroke you through your panties, applying more and more pressure as he gets closer and closer to your center. He whispers out a curse as he shoves your panties to the side, revealing your glistening folds to him. He leans forward, warm breath fanning your slit before he closes his mouth around you.

You gasp at the sensation, dropping back onto your back on the bed as he drags his tongue through your folds, flicking it across your clit before he closes his lips around the sensitive bud, suckling at it like he did your nipples earlier. Pleasure shoots through you as he eats you like a man starved, slurping away at your pussy obscenely.

“Fuck, Johnny!” You gasp, legs trying to close around his head, but he holds your inner thighs, keeping them spread.

You’re not going to last very long, not with him alternating between sucking at your clit and swirling his tongue around it like that. He’s done this before, and you can’t help the momentary spike of jealousy at the thought of him between any other omega’s thighs now that he has you.

“Gonna cum!” You whine, hips bucking against his face.

“Yeah? Gonna make a mess all over my face?” He groans.

You curse, your back arching as he continues to work you up, hands fisting his sheets.

“That’s it.” He groans against your clit, dragging his teeth over the sensitive bud. “Be a good omega for me.”

You cum with a cry, soaking his chin as he continues to tease you. He laps at your juices, not slowing any as he works you through your orgasm, even as you begin to shake with overstimulation.

“I-I can’t.” You gasp, the burning feeling starting to pulse through you as he continues to suck at your clit. It’s quickly becoming too much, the feeling overwhelming you.

Ghost’s words flash through your mind at that moment, his suggestion yesterday while you both spent time in the rec room reading. You reach down, sinking your fingers into Johnny’s mohawk, gripping the short strands. He lets out a groan as you tug, pulling his face from your pussy finally. His chin is glistening with your release, his tongue darting out to lick your juices from his lips.

He follows as you tug upwards, drawing him away from your pussy. He crawls up your body until you’re almost face to face, your fingers still tangled in his hair.

“I said that’s enough.” You say, slightly breathless from your orgasm, but you put as much authority in your tone as you can manage.

“Yes ma’am.” He practically whines, the muscles in his arms flexing as he sinks his own fingers into the sheets around you.

The sudden shift in control has something buzzing in your brain, the back of your neck tingling. You’re an omega. You’re not supposed to be in control, and yet, here Johnny is, practically folding in front of you. A thrill shoots through your veins at the thought of what you could make him do, what lengths he’d go to for you simply because you have him in this position.

“Take your clothes off.” You say, releasing his mohawk.

He sits back without complaint, tugging his shirt over his head. You take him in, the hard lines of his muscles, the dark hair on his chest, the line disappearing under the waistband of his pants. You lick your lips as he undoes the button on his pants, undoing the zipper before tugging them down with his boxers.

His cock is hard and practically standing at attention as he kicks his pants off. He’s slightly smaller than John, but not by much. Your pussy clenches at the thought of him inside you, but you’re not ready for that quite yet. You guide Johnny back up to your face, pressing your lips against his. You can taste yourself on him, making him groan as you lick into his mouth.

You guide him onto his back, trading places with him. He settles beneath you, his hands lifting to your hips, but you push them back as you pull away. You smirk down at him for a moment before you move, changing your position so you’re facing away from him. You trap his hands against the bed with your legs like Ghost showed you, sitting yourself on his taut stomach. He has a clear view of your ass still sporting your lacy panties, your wet folds pressed against his skin.

“Simon show ye that one?” He asks, flexing his hands under you. He could easily overpower you and free himself, but he doesn’t.

“Uh huh.” You say, wrapping your hand around his cock.

“Hells bells, what are you two gettin’ into during trainin’?” He groans, obviously starting to picture the lewd things you and Ghost might be doing. You wonder how he’d react to seeing you on top of Ghost like you were yesterday.

“He’s just teaching me how to defend myself.” You say, slowly pumping his cock. “I’m finding there’s not much of a difference between fucking and fighting.”

Johnny lets out another groan, but you’re not sure if it’s because of your words, or your hand on his cock. You continue to pump his length, feeling the softness of him in your hand, squeezing gently to feel the vein running along the bottom side. Johnny lets out a choked groan, hands twitching again under your legs.

“Fuck, I cannae last much longer.” He gasps desperately, his length twitching in your hand.

Pearly white beads of precum have begun to slip from his tip, and you can’t help but lean down and drag your tongue across his head, gathering some in your mouth. He lets out a whine that rivals ones of your own, his hips bucking as he gets closer and closer to his own orgasm.

“Please, kitten, let me cum inside ye.” He begs, pulling his hands free from underneath you so he can grip your hips.

You pull away from his cock, sitting up on his stomach. He’s panting, his fingers digging into the skin of your hips. You shift yourself again, turning back around to face him. His eyes are hooded as he stares at you, pupils blown with lust. His lips are parted as he pants, sweat beading on his forehead from the strain of holding himself back. You push yourself back until you’re hovering over his cock, pulling your panties to the side with one hand, grabbing his length with the other.

You groan as you sink down onto him, bracing yourself with a hand on his stomach as he stretches you open. His hands settle on your waist, squeezing your hips as you work yourself down his length.

“Fuck,” You breathe, pressing your hands against his abs as you sink down completely onto his cock, your hips flush with his.

“So fucking tight and warm,” He groans, his grip near bruising around your hips. “Fucking feel fantastic, kitten.”

You slowly begin rocking your hips, using your hands on his stomach for leverage. Your toes are curling already from this angle, the tip of his cock brushing that spot deep inside you with every rock of your hips. Small whines and whimpers leave your lips as you fuck yourself on his cock, squeezing your legs around his hips. They’re shaking already, and you know you won’t last long in this position.

Johnny seems to notice that as well, his grip on your hips tightening as he starts to guide your movements. You’re starting to sweat from the effort, your thighs burning, but it feels too good to stop. You’re getting close again, the stretch of him inside you paired with the high of having such control over him just a few moments ago driving you closer and closer to the edge.

Johnny pushes himself up as your movements begin to slow, wrapping his arms around you to shift you in his lap, laying you down on the bed facing the footboard as he slots himself over you. He takes over, thrusting into you, setting a frantic pace. Your head falls back as he pounds into you, your back arching as he folds his body over yours, pressing his face into your neck.

“Gonna cum for me? Need tae feel ye squeezing ‘round my cock.” He grunts, nipping at the skin of your throat.

You let out a whimper, nails digging into his shoulders. “Just like that.” You pant, squeezing your legs around his hips. “Don’t stop!”

“Yes, ma’am.” He groans, continuing to rut into you like your pussy is the only thing that can save his life.

You practically see stars as you cum, squeezing around his cock as pleasure jolts through your body like electricity. Your hips buck against his, grinding together like some sort of forbidden dance as he’s forced into his own orgasm by your walls squeezing around him. His hips stutter before he stills, warmth spurting into you as he cums. You hold him there, his body trembling with yours as he groans into your throat.

“Fucking hell.” He moans, starting to shallowly thrust into you. He’s still hard, his cock dragging through your sensitive walls as he continues to fuck you despite having just orgasmed. “Never gonnae tire of this sweet cunt.”

He probably won’t, you think as he continues to slowly thrust into you again.

You’re in for a long night.

NEXT ->

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