#didn’t think too hard about cleaning it up

[starlightxsvt]

VERDICT | sibilance. FINAL

synopsis ➳ you have found your way back to each other but that doesn't mean it is smooth sailing from now on. wonwoo's father is still trying to get him married and you have a decision to make. pairing ➳ rich badboy!wonwoo x lawyer fem!reader genre ➳ fluff, romance, smut. word count ➳ 13k warnings ➳ cursing, some mentions of food and eating, jealousy, reader is insecure at some point, jeonghan being a brat, a smidge of drama, brief angst in the sense of longing and regret, fingering, unprotected sex, edging, female oral, multiple orgasms, big dic wonu, creampie, soft sex.

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The soft clutter of utensils and cupboards being opened and closed occupies the otherwise silent atmosphere inside Wonwoo’s house. You sit in the living room and watch with slight amusement as he moves about rather clumsily. You never thought making a cup of tea could be such a challenging task but as you watch Wonwoo scramble in the kitchen, you almost start to believe he is preparing a three course meal in there.

Gingerly, the man turns his head back, as if to check whether you are looking at him and once he sees that you are, in fact, he whips his head around and observes the boiling kettle with acute fascination. 

You suppress a smile and take a sip of water from the tall mug he gave you five minutes ago. 

His place is neat and tidy, taking you by surprise because the last time you were here, it was easy to think that a racoon broke in and rummaged through everything. 

The pillows on the couch and the centrepiece on the coffee table are neatly placed. The cream coloured carpet is straight and clean, looking freshly vacuumed and spotless. There are even a bunch of new books sitting on his bookshelf which you remember was previously almost empty and dusty, full of random nicknacks. Most astonishingly, you spot plants throughout his space, whether fake or real you are not sure but the green adds a tasteful pop of colour to the house. 

“Here you go.” Wonwoo murmurs, setting down your steaming cup of tea on a coaster. 

Then he awkwardly stands next to you, wringing his hands and watching you with nervous, careful eyes. You pick up the cup and the steam immediately fogs your glasses, helping you establish that the tea is still too hot to drink.

You set it down. “Have a seat.” You point to the velvet, cushiony chair opposite to you and he obliges immediately. He sits down and starts wiping his head with the damp towel around his neck, rubbing a single spot repeatedly as his eyes remain downcast, fixed on the floor. His acting reminds you of the naughty boys in your school when they were summoned in front of the principal and you find it quite amusing.

“Thank you for the dinner.” You start, deeming the topic a good conversation starter. “Mr. Pi told us that it was your treat. You really didn’t have to but thank you.”

“Oh.” He finally meets your eyes, his movement jittery. “No, it was really nothing. You guys worked hard. You deserved it.”

You smile. “Everyone had a great time. Jeonghan ordered a lot of food. He was out to drain your card. He even took some side dishes home.”

You don’t miss the way his face falls immediately at the mention of Jeonghan. “I see,” he supplies and goes back to staring at the ground.

A silence settles between the two of you. You watch him sit and fiddle with the towel, one of his legs bouncing up and down nervously.

“You are starting next week, right?” You ask, hoping to bring some life back in him.

His head jerks up. “Huh? Yeah. Next week.”

“I heard you are not using your father’s office.”

“No. I never liked that place. It comes with too many memories I wish to forget.” He explains quietly. 

“It’s always good to start fresh. So you’re leaving that empty for now?”

He nods.

Another beat of silence.

You reach for your tea and take a slow sip.

This is getting a bit too awkward. You have never seen Wonwoo like this; so out of place, so nervous and spooked. He is acting like he murdered your dog and you are about to punish him for that. Maybe, you should just cut to the chase. It is clear he won’t say anything, so you might as well speak your part and clear things out.

“So,” you begin, setting the cup down. “The reason why I’m here—”

“I didn’t think you would make your decision so quickly,” Wonwoo interrupts, his voice coated with a nervous edge. He looks at you, his pupils slightly dilated and his face paler than usual. “I mean…you are free to do however you want to…I just…I just thought I might have a c-chance this time, you know?” He swallows and licks his lips, his eyes bouncing around the room nervously. 

“I know how awful I was to you and still…I don’t know, I was clinging onto the hope that you would take me back even out of pity. I…imagined this moment hundreds of times. I…I thought you would tell me to go fuck myself over a text but it’s nice of you to come see me and break it to my face. I’m just…I’m just not ready I guess…” He trails off, his nervous rant coming to an end.

“You did not even hear what I have to say.” You raise an amused brow at him.

“Right.” He drops the towel on the floor and rubs his palms over his thighs. “Give it to me.”

You pause, carefully watching him before uttering. “Let’s start again, Wonwoo. One last time.”

Wonwoo blinks and then remains unmoving in his place, so still that one can easily mistake him for a statue. You wait and watch him, eager and amused for his next words.

You see his throat bob as he swallows and finally breaks off eye contact with you.

“You…you really mean it?” His voice comes out thick and scratchy almost like he is on the verge of tears. 

“Yes, I do.”

A sudden burst of laughter escapes his lips, the sound short and abrupt before he rests his elbows on his thighs and hangs his head low, staring at the ground in pure awe. “I…” He shakes his head. “Thank you.” His eyes meet yours, bright and shining with unshed tears. “Fuck…thank you. I promise to treat you right this time.”

You offer him a reassuring smile. He returns it, a bit wobbly at first before it grows, puffing up his cheeks and making his eyes form crescents. 

“Let’s take it slow this time.” You state, taking a sip of your tea. “Let’s get to know each other all over again. Slowly but steadily.”

He sits up straight and shakes his head with a determined nod. “Yes, of course. You call the shots this time. We will go at your pace.” He stops, watching you with a fond gaze. As an afterthought, he softly adds, “I am really very sorry about my behaviour so far. I have been foolish and immature about everything in my life. Now that I know how much you mean to me…how much all of this means to me…I will not let you down this time. I will not fuck this up.”

“I believe you won’t.” You reassure with a smile.

You finish your tea in a comfortable silence.

Soon after, Wonwoo drives you home. His car zooms down the empty streets of the city as you two sit next to each other, silent but comfortable. Soft tunes from the radio fill the car while you admire the view out your window, finding this boring, familiar city suddenly wondrous and full of colour. 

You feel like yourself after a long while, nothing weighing heavily on your chest and you can breathe freely. You glance at Wonwoo beside you and he does the same and when your eyes meet, the two of you break into a smile. 

—

The first week of your vacation goes by slowly but cozily at your parents' place in your hometown. Far from the hectic morning schedules of checking emails and going through hundreds of pages of case files, you stroll around your village, enjoying the greenery around you and the sunlight on your skin. You eat meals with your parents, help your mom with the household work, accompany your dad with his gardening and then sit by the nearby river and watch the children play as the sun goes down on the western sky. 

Your phone, which used to buzz with notifications every other minute, now remains mostly silent, except for certain times, like mornings and nights. Every morning, you wake up to a good morning text from Wonwoo, and at night, you receive a good night text. He asks you about your day and in return you ask about his, smiling at your phone at the simple, otherwise mundane words sent from him.

Despite being physically far away from him, you realize you feel closer and more connected to him than when you lay next to him. 

On the third day of your stay in your hometown, a package arrives early in the morning. 

Your attention from the TV is disrupted when you see your mom enter the dining space with a huge and expensive looking fruit basket in her hands. The confusion on her face makes you get up from your spot on the floor and observe the basket carefully.

It comes with a handwritten note that says, 

Dear ___,

A little gift for you and your family. I hope they enjoy it and I hope you have a good time at home. 

Love,

W

You try hard to stifle a silly smile. 

“Who is it from?” Your mother asks, opening the basket. “This does not come in cheap.”

“Oh, it’s from my boss.” You reply. “It's just a gift. I worked hard the past few months so he wants me to enjoy it with you guys.”

“How nice of him! I didn’t know bosses so nice existed any more.”

You only smile, helping your mom to take out the wide assortment of fruits. Once you are back in your room, you send a quick text to Wonwoo.

You: Thank you for the fruit basket. My mom really likes it.

His reply comes immediately.

Wonwoo: Don’t mention it. It was my pleasure. I want you to have a good time.

You: It was a thoughtful gesture. And don’t worry, I am having a good time.

Wonwoo: I am glad to hear it then. Let me know if you need anything.

You: Okay. Have a good day at work.

Wonwoo: Now that you texted me, I will have a great day ;)

Like a lovestruck fool, you grin at your screen.

—

The second week of your vacation passes as you organize your apartment and declutter all the junk that has piled up. In the evenings, you catch up with friends, visit cafes and restaurants, and go on a shopping spree before returning home for a peaceful sleep.

Wonwoo and you have fallen into a routine now. Other than random texts throughout the day, a voice call at night has become mandatory for you. He has been calling you every night after you get into bed and it is almost embarrassing how easily you fall asleep while listening to his voice over the phone. 

“When can I take you out on a date?” He asks randomly on a Friday night as you lay in bed and twirl your hair, staring at your ceiling.

“I don’t know.” You reply teasingly. You hear him sigh. 

“Are you really coming back to work this Monday?” He questions after a pause.

“Yes, I am.” “Take a longer break. Seriously.”

You release a sigh. “I have done all that I wanted to do for this break. I am honestly looking forward to returning. I miss my office.”

“Said no one ever.” Wonwoo huffs, making you laugh.

“Plus,” you grin even though he cannot see it. “I look forward to experiencing my first-ever office romance.”

You hear a short burst of laughter and you imagine Wonwoo’s face. 

“Well, then I need to give you enough work so that you visit my office every day.”

“How cruel of you.” You mock. “How can you do that to your over worked girlfriend?”

Wonwoo laughs which is followed by silence.

You observe the night sky from your bed, marveling at the beauty of the twinkling stars in the dark sky in the quiet solitude of the night. Wonwoo softly calls your name.

“Hm?” You hum.

“I am so lucky to have you.” His soft voice floats through the speaker. “I sometimes can’t believe you are my girlfriend now. Thank you, truly, for choosing me.”

His words make your heart soar, pounding loudly in your ribcage and you smile into your pillow.

“Quite a romantic, aren’t you, Mr. Jeon?”

He chuckles, the sound deep and throaty, sending tingles all through your body. Suddenly, you wish he was next to you so that you could kiss him.

“Only for you.” He replies, making your grin broader. 

—

You did not expect to be greeted by a huge bouquet of roses when you entered your office after your break. You stand on the threshold of your office, your mouth agape because of the bright red roses sitting on your desk and one of your co-workers sitting nearby takes notice of your shock.

“It came about fifteen minutes ago. A delivery man left it.” She explains. “The sender was anonymous. We were so curious we had to ask.” She adds sheepishly. 

You awkwardly chuckle at her words. 

Who could it be?

Shutting the door behind you, you drop your coat and bag and rush straight to the bouquet, smelling the sweet, heady scent of the flowers. They look even more beautiful up close, bright red and shiny and you cannot help a giddy smile of excitement. As you take the bouquet and carefully observe it, you find a pastel pink card stuck near the bottom of the stems. 

Immediately, you snatch it and pry it open. 

Welcome back. Thank you for another chance. Here is to new beginnings. 

Love, W

You bite your lip, trying to stifle the goofy smile spreading on your lips.

“Damn, who got you smiling like that?” Jeonghan bursts open through the door, ruining your moment.

“Ugh, Jeonghan!” You glare at the man, folding the note and stuffing it in your pocket.

He strolls in. “That is not how you greet me after not seeing me for two weeks.” He eyes the roses with a smirk. “I see we have a loverboy in our hands.” You roll your eyes. 

Jeonghan leans closer to your face and wiggles his eyebrows. “Looks like you two have…” he makes a suspicious gesture with his hands by slowly intertwining them, “reconciled in your break.”

This man, you swear to god. 

Ignoring him, you gently set aside the bouquet on your coffee table and fish out your phone from your pocket. “Shouldn’t you be asking how my vacation went?”

“Why bother with that when I can clearly see how good it went.” He grins suggestively.

“Gosh, you’re so annoying. Don’t you have any work to do?”

He pouts. “I just wanted to welcome you back. Also for your information, yes I do. With you gone Mr. Pi was stuck on me all day. Do you know how many cases I’m working on at the same time?”

“Mhmm.” You try to pay attention to his words while typing a message to Wonwoo.

Thank you for the roses. They are absolutely stunning.

Jeonghan, noticing your lack of response, leans over your shoulder to peek at your screen. “Ugh.” He makes a noise of disgust, waving his hand dismissively. “I cannot believe you’re choosing hoes over bros.”

You set your phone down. “I can see you’re as dramatic as before, bro.”

Jeonghan rolls his eyes, ready for a comeback with a snarky reply when his phone starts ringing. With a dejected sigh, he pulls it out of his pocket, heading for the door and casually pulling out a flower from your bouquet on his way. He grins, waving the flower at you and smoothly slips out of your room, leaving your mouth open. 

Gosh, he can be such a brat sometimes.

Your phone vibrates just then and you immediately unlock it to read Wonwoo’s message. 

My pleasure, love. They are not half as beautiful as you but I’m glad it made you happy.

You keep smiling goofily at your screen.

—

A shocking email waits for you in your inbox when you get to work on Tuesday morning. 

It is from secretary Yu, informing you that you have been selected for a promotion. If you accept, you will be the deputy head of the legal team of Jeon Industries. The email states you have two days to think it over and a response is expected before the meeting on Thursday.

You are blown out of the water.

For many long moments, you think you are reading it wrong and then for another good minute, you think it is addressed to the wrong person.

Once you realize none of that is true and this is in fact, reality, your hands fly to your gaping mouth. You scramble to find your phone and immediately dial Wonwoo who picks up on the third ring. 

“Hey there. Good morning.” He greets you warmly.

“Wonwoo—” You stop, struggling to arrange your thoughts. “Did you…did you recommend me for a promotion?”

“What? No.” It's hard to gauge his tone through the phone.

“Wonwoo, be serious.”

“I am. I didn’t!” There is a short pause. “Wait— did you get a promotion?” He almost yells.

“Apparently,” you murmur, staring at your computer. “I just saw Secretary Yu’s email.”

“What does it say?”

“I am chosen to be the next deputy head of your legal team.”

Silence.

“Holy shit.” He breathes. “Congratulations, sweetheart! You deserve it. I promise I had nothing to do with this.”

“Thank you. I…I just can’t believe it. It seems unreal.”

“Trust me, you deserve it so much.”

“I think your father is behind this.”

Wonwoo is quiet for a few beats. “I think you’re right. Well, this is the only decision of his I fully support and agree with.”

You smile, shaking your head at his words. 

Looks like you have got a decision to make.

—

“You’re hiding something from me,” Jeonghan states pointedly as you two wait in front of the elevator, ready to clock out for the day.

You whip your head towards him who stands with his hands in his pockets, his eyes trained on the little screen showing the floor number on top of the doors.

“What makes you say that?” You ask, amused.

“So you are hiding something from me,” he stares at you. The elevator reaches your floor, opening with a soft ding and you step in, followed by Jeonghan. “What is it?” he asks as the doors close. You smile, humming.

“Oh come on!”

The doors reopen on the next floor and the empty elevator is suddenly overcrowded as a dozen of people flood in. You and your colleague are pushed to the very back, your backs pressed against the cold steel wall.

“I got a promotion.” You whisper to Jeonghan who stands next to you. He takes a second to register your words before his eyes widen and then, in the crowded, confined space, he yells, “What!”

Everyone turns to look at him. You avoid their gaze out of embarrassment, instead staring hard at your shoes, stifling a smile while being hyper aware that Jeonghan is drilling holes into your face with his eyes.

As soon as you are out of the elevator, Jeonghan blocks your way in a dramatic fashion. “Lawyer ___, you have got some explaining to do. Right now.”

“I’ve been selected as the deputy head of the legal team of Jeon Industries.”

His jaw falls slack. The next moment, he is engulfing you in a bear hug. “Congratulations! Fucking hell, I’m so happy for you! Wait…why did you keep this from me?” His face deadpans as he observes you carefully.

“I…I didn’t necessarily hide it from you.” You look down. “I’m just…still processing it. It feels too good to be true.” “Are you seriously doubting your capabilities right now? You’re the perfect person for the job. Hell, I don’t see why they did not make you the head.”

You laugh, shaking your head at his words.

“No, I’m serious! Don’t laugh!”

You nod, still smiling. Pushing your glasses up your nose, you look into his eyes. “Thank you Jeonghan. Seriously.”

“Well, a thank you won’t cut it,” he announces, heading towards the revolving doors, dragging you by your arm. “You need to treat me. Let’s go for some drinks.”

“I’m really sorry.” You stop. “I have plans.”

Jeonghan turns back, his eyes narrow. “Let me guess, with the billionaire, alpha hot CEO Mr. Jeon Wonwoo?”

You snicker, shoving him playfully. “Oh my god, you’re so annoying!”

He grins. “Is he coming to pick you up?”

“No, I’ll meet him at the park next block.”

“Ah, I see.” He nods. “Keeping it under the wraps now, eh? You don’t want to make it public?”

You immediately shake your head no. “You know how it is. He just became the CEO and a dating rumour would put him under even more speculation. Plus, we’re taking it slow this time. It’s still too early to announce anything.”

“Hmm, it’s a good call.” He reaches into his jacket, fishing for his keys. “Would you like me to drop you off over there?”

You chuckle, “It’s barely a five minute walk, Jeonghan.”

“Alright then. Have fun with your lover boy, I guess. You still owe me drinks!” He starts walking. “Also, don’t forget to use protection!” He yells out loud and purposefully, grinning like a gremlin at your horrified reaction. 

The lobby is fairly empty but you don’t miss the looks the few people around are giving you.

“Fuck you, Jeonghan! No drinks for you!” You yell back, face heated with mortification.

—

“I cannot believe we’re here doing this,” Wonwoo murmurs, staring at the tray of burger, fries and drinks on his lap. You pause in the middle of a bite of your burger to look at him. 

“I really thought I could get a reservation there.” he sighs, referring to the Michelin-star restaurant he wanted to take you to for dinner. “I wanted to celebrate your promotion with a seven course meal and here we are eating…burgers.”

You finish chewing your bite and then glance at him. “Wonwoo, seriously, this is great. I was craving fast food anyway. And you have to admit, this is much more fun. Getting drive through and eating in your car after work? I’ll take this over a fancy restaurant any day.”

Wonwoo looks at you, a soft smile blooming on his lips. 

You point your chin at his food. “Try the burger, seriously, it is so good.” You reach for your own, taking a quick sip of your drink and letting out a satisfied groan. The fizzy drinks and the greasy burger are a phenomenal combo.

“You look beautiful.” Wonwoo suddenly says, making you pause chewing your food and look at him, both startled and shy. His thumb brushes across your lower lip, wiping away the stain of sauce. He brings the finger to his lips, licking it clean while holding eye contact with you.

Your heart skips a beat and you immediately look away, feeling your face heat up. 

It feels like a thousand degrees in here suddenly. 

“I really missed you.” He murmurs, his voice tender and sweet, doing nothing but increasing the beat of your racing heart. You take a long gulp of your drink before meeting his soft gaze. In the dimly lit parking space, the artificial lights cast weird shadows on his face yet he has never looked this handsome, this ethereal, you realize. 

“I missed you too.” You whisper with a twinge of smile. “Two weeks turned out to be longer than I thought.”

He smiles. “It was long. Excruciatingly so.” He pauses. “Have you thought about the offer? You’re taking it right?”

“It sure is tempting.” You reply, going back to your food. With every bite you take, your hunger seems to increase tenfold. You briefly wonder what they put into this.

“If you are doubting yourself then please don’t.” Wonwoo places a soft hand on your thigh. “You are so talented and hardworking. More than anyone else, you deserve it. After all, no one handled my tantrums and all the troubles I caused better than you.”

You laugh, nodding. “That is true.” 

“Plus,” he leans closer to you. “We cannot have that office romance I was talking about if we are not in the same office.”

You meet his gaze. “Oh! You are right about that. But wait…are you trying to bribe me into taking the position?” You playfully narrow your eyes at him, popping a fry into your mouth. 

“You caught me there,” he grins before smirking at you. “Just think of all the fun things we could do at work.” He wiggles his brows suggestively.

“Jeon Wonwoo!” You throw a fry at him, laughing. He grins his signature foxy grin that sends your heart racing and butterflies erupting in your stomach. 

“But seriously,” You watch his expression shift as he pops the fry into his mouth before looking at you. “I know the new title will come with a lot of responsibilities. And I also understand that you will be leaving your colleagues behind so the scene will be unfamiliar to you at first. Still, I think you will smash this job. I was going to offer you a permanent position at my company anyway before I heard this.”

“Hmm, I wonder why.” You tease. “To do scandalous things at work with me?”

Wonwoo huffs but you don’t miss the smile creeping up on his lips. “I’m being serious, ____.”

You nod, wiping your fingers with the napkin. “I know. Thank you for your words, truly.” You place your hand on top of his knuckles. 

“I’m just speaking the truth.” He replies, holding your hand between his.

“Thank you, Wonwoo. For this—” you gesture at the food and the interior of his car, “for your kind words and for your support. Thank you.”

His lips touch your knuckles for a soft, sweet kiss. “It is my pleasure, always.” 

—

The meeting goes well on Thursday morning. You are surprised to find Chairman Jeon there along with Wonwoo, who wanted to officially introduce you as the deputy head to the entire team. After the meeting, you are shown a room, which is set to be your personal office from next week, located on the same floor as Wonwoo’s office and right next to Mr. Choi’s office, who is the most senior and head lawyer of the company.

That night, Mr. Pi takes you and some of your closest colleagues for drinks, treating it as an official goodbye party for you. He even sings two songs for you, crying his drunk heart out while saying goodbye and wishing you well while you and everyone else cringe in their seats, covering your ears. 

“I’ll miss you, seriously.” Jeonghan murmurs, staring at the ground as you both walk home after the drinks and deafening singing.

“I will too.” You sigh. “Come visit me often. We have meetings every week at the headquarters anyway.” He nods. “You know, I am so glad that I met you. It was so fun working with you for the last few months.”

You smile. “Same for me. Though you were really annoying sometimes, I will miss you, Lawyer Yoon.”

He grins. “Well, as my final show of respect for you, I shall escort you home tonight. Protect you from the dangers of the night.”

“Mhmm,” you smirk. “From stray dogs too? There are a few in the park by my apartment.” You watch his face for his reaction, knowing very well Jeonghan is afraid of dogs. He doesn’t like dogs and unsurprisingly, dogs don’t want him either.

“Well then, my lady,” Jeoghan says with mock seriousness, “you will have to fend for yourself.”

Your laughter echoes through the quiet air of the night. As you continue down your path home, you realize something. You have been smiling so much recently, more than ever before.

The revelation once again, makes you smile. 

—

The lobby of the Grand Hotel is slightly more crowded for a Saturday morning, you observe while sipping your coffee and waiting for your friend to come downstairs. A business convention is taking place in the hall room, which accounts for the men in suits and ties scrambling all over.

You are here to see an old friend from college who has settled abroad because of her career as a fashion designer. She is staying here and you are set to meet at the lobby before going on a shopping and eating spree. She rarely visits her homeland and now that she has, a reunion of the two of you was a must.

Your eyes skirting all over the huge lobby spot Rina before she spots you as you find her stepping out of the VIP elevators. Your hands spring up on their own out of excitement and you start waving them to gain her attention. She notices you immediately and with a squeal dashes to you and engulfs you in a hug.

Your conversations flow immediately as you two plop down on the plush sofas in the lobby, ordering some drinks for your throats which will soon be parched from all the talking and the laughing.

Rina shares about her life and work abroad and you talk about your work and your recent promotion. The topics flow smoother than the current of a river as you eagerly listen to every word your friend says, sipping your drink occasionally.

Until…

Until suddenly, your attention from your friend’s words is snatched away as you spot something in front of you. Something so serious it pries you away from the conversation you were so engaged in. 

About a hundred feet away from where you sit there are a group of people, two older men who you immediately recognize. One is Chairman Jeon and the other is President Lee, owner of the biggest textile industry in the country. Seeing them here is nothing out of the ordinary because today’s convention is arranged by Mr. Lee’s company and Chairman Jeon is a close friend of his, thus he is naturally attending. As they sit down, you spot a young girl next to Mr. Lee, appearing to be his daughter.

What catches your full attention and sends your heart racing, however, is the presence of Wonwoo, dressed formally in a grey suit and pants, who walks to the group, shakes hands with Mr. Lee and then sits next to his father, his back facing you.

Agitation crawls up your neck like a slithering snake as you watch the group talk, a bright smile plastered on the girl's face as she talks to Wonwoo. Then suddenly, it hits you like a ton of bricks.

It is Yuna Lee. 

Of course. Yuna Lee, the only daughter of Mr. Lee, the girl Chairman Jeon wants Wonwoo to marry.

A stuttered breath falls from your lips as you continue watching their exchange until you cannot anymore. 

“Rina,” Your sharp and urgent tone stops your friend in her speech. She regards you with slightly wide and puzzled eyes.

“Let’s get out of here.” You stand up, slinging your bag over your shoulders. “It is too crowded. There’s a nice cafe on the next block.”

You force a smile.

—

You lie in your bed, sprawled out, blank gaze fixed on the ceiling of your bedroom.

Today was shit.

You were so excited to catch up with Rina, take her around the city and have a fun time reconnecting with an old friend. None of that happened because you spent the entire day in a haze, your mind repeatedly going back to Wonwoo and Yuna, her shining eyes and bright smile, looking eagerly at Wonwoo.

Yuna Lee, the ex prima ballerina. Yuna Lee, the most sought after single woman in the country, both by men and the hundreds of brands eager to work with her. Yuna Lee with her porcelain skin, slanted eyes and a smile so sweet it could cure the plague. Yuna Lee, heir to billions and a perfect match for Wonwoo, in all ways.

The thought raises bile to your throat, and you hate how bitter, insignificant, and jealous you feel. What is worse is that Wonwoo never mentioned this meeting to you. Yesterday, he took you out to dinner to celebrate your promotion and then drove you home afterwards. He walked you to your door, pressed a soft, loving kiss to your lips, and wished you a nice time with your friend.

Did he know all along? Why did he lie to you? He rejected Yuna, didn’t he?

As if on cue, your phone rings, jolting you out of your thoughts. The caller is Wonwoo and you stare at the screen, your hands not moving to pick up the call. It continues ringing before finally the call disconnects and with a sigh, you lie back down, slightly relieved. You don’t feel like talking to him right now. He texted you earlier, asking how your hangout went but you have not replied. It is petty and childish and very unlike you but today, you cannot find it in yourself to give a fuck.

The phone rings again and with a huff, you sit up, contemplating. Finally, on the fifth ring, you begrudgingly pick up the call. 

“Hey? You alright?” Wonwoo’s voice immediately floats through, concerned and hurried.

“Yes,” you try to put some effort into making your voice lively. “I was in the bathroom, didn’t hear the ring.” The lies slip away easily.

“It’s okay. I was getting worried. Did your date go well? How long is your friend staying?” 

“Yes, it was good.” Your voice is flat and you are aware of how dry you sound. “Another week, I think. She needs to return to Italy for the fashion week.”

“I see.” Wonwoo hums. “Oh, right. ____, could you open your door real quick? I sent something for you. My assistant is there.” “Wait? What?” You sit up straighter. “Now?”

Wonwoo laughs, “Yes, now. I wanted to surprise you. I’ll be on the call, just open the door.”

You shuffle out of bed, putting on your slippers and hurrying out of the room. Without bothering to look at the intercom screen, you open your door and fall silent.

With parted lips and wide eyes, you stand there, holding the door open as your hand holding your phone to the ear falls down your side.

Wonwoo grins, sweet and cheeky, his nose scrunching up from the action. He stands there in a navy blue oversized sweater and cream pants, looking boyish and happy as he extends a bouquet of mixed flowers to you.

“Surprise!” He chirps, hanging up the call.

A noise of shock and bewilderment comes from you as you reach out for the flowers. “I— you…”

Wonwoo chuckles, walking into your apartment. “I see you are surprised, love.” He smiles, pressing a kiss to your forehead. Momentarily, you are taken over by the clean, soapy scent coming from him and you close your eyes, savouring his smell and his touch. Too quickly for your liking, he moves away, toeing off his loafers and stepping into your living area.

“I was wondering if I did something wrong you know,” he smiles as you follow him in. “You didn’t reply to my messages earlier and my call so I was wondering how I fucked up.”

“So you came prepared with the flowers?” You ask, your voice less playful than you intended it to be. 

“Not really,” he replies, watching you set the bouquet in a vase and place it in a corner of your kitchen counter. “I wanted to surprise you anyway…” He trails off, walking closer to you. Gently holding your shoulders, he makes you turn to face him, his eyes focused and curiously set on your face. He whispers, “You know, I’m not really good at this stuff but I do think that something is wrong. You are mad at me aren’t you?”

You cannot help a smirk. He did grow up, didn’t he?

“Well…if you haven’t done anything wrong then it should be fine, no?” You walk past him and head into your bedroom, sitting down comfortably on the bed. Like an obedient puppy, he trails after you and then sits next to you.

“Fuck, I’m sorry. I really don’t know what I did wrong. I’m sorry for not getting it and I’m sorry for whatever I did wrong.” The genuine look of distress on his face makes you sigh softly.

“Wonwoo…” You murmur, looking at his hands fidgeting on top of his lap. “I saw you today, at the Grand Hotel. With your father and Mr. Lee and…Yuna.”

Wonwoo’s eyes widen slightly as recognition flashes over his face. “Ah, that.” He sounds almost relieved.

“You didn’t tell me you were seeing her today.” You whisper, your voice meek and small, your gaze trained on your own lap.

“Sweetheart, I didn’t know, I promise.” Wonwoo urges, his hands coming to rest on top of yours. “I was there to attend the conference and then I got a call from my father, asking me to come out and meet Mr. Lee. I didn’t know she was there.”

“What did you guys talk about?” You whisper, relishing the feeling of his warm hands on yours. Wonwoo remains silent for a beat and you know what the answer is. You cannot bring yourself to meet his gaze so you choose to stare at his hands instead. 

“Marriage.” Wonwoo’s voice is quiet. “My father and Mr. Lee wish to see us married.”

“Yuna too.” You murmur, almost to yourself.

“What?”

“Yuna too.” You exhale a heavy sigh before looking at him. “She likes you, Wonwoo. I saw how she was looking at you. I know that look. She also wants to get married to you.”

Wonwoo remains silent, his lips pressed into a thin line, his gaze piercing your heart and soul, leaving you unable to guess what he is thinking. For one too horrible moment, you think you have lost Wonwoo.

“Well that's too bad,” he says, squeezing your hands. “Because I don’t feel the same way about her. There is only one woman on this planet I want to marry and I think we both know who that is.”

The corners of his mouth lift in a teasing smile and your heart soars, a small smile creeping on your face too.

He continues. “I told them very clearly today that I won’t marry Yuna. My father was very annoyed, of course, but I don’t care. So rest assured sweetheart, I’m all yours.”

Your shy smile morphs into a giggle as you lean on him, putting your face on his shoulder. With a soft laugh, he envelops you with his arms, holding you tight against his body. “Are we good now? Am I out of the dog house?”

“Yes,” you laugh.

“Good,” he hums. “Because I missed you. I always miss you.” He murmurs, pressing a kiss on top of your head. Holding you against his body, he lies down on the bed on his back, dragging you with him. Half of your body lays on top of him as you get comfortable, placing your head on his chest and listening to his rhythmic heartbeat, your fingers mindlessly tracing the subtle patterns on his sweater. 

“Wonwoo?” You call him softly.

“Hm?”

“I think we should tell Chairman Jeon about us.”

Silence follows. You remove your head to look at your boyfriend’s face. He observes you inquisitively as if trying to decode the inner workings of your mind. 

“Are you sure?” He asks quietly.

You nod, propping your body on your elbows so that you can look at him. “Before my vacation, he called me to his office for a chat. He asked me if I knew who was the girl you are interested in. I lied and said no, which did not feel good. He seemed open to meeting her you know. I think we should go see him.”

Wonwoo continues looking at you silently. “What are you thinking?” You whisper, slightly tense.

“I just…am surprised, I guess. I mean, I have no problem with us meeting him but I don’t want to pressure you. I know it might be tough and uncomfortable for you since you have a professional relationship with him. But if you really want to, then let’s go see him on Monday.”

“Are you uncomfortable with the idea?”

“No.” He ponders for a moment. “I just don’t care enough. I won’t exactly ask for his blessings, you know. We don’t have a relationship like that. So don’t worry too much about what he will think of you because, at the end of the day, it won’t matter. I will date you, whether he likes it or not.”

“He might be disappointed.” You whisper softly, your hand absent mindedly reaching to his throat to trace his adam’s apple. “Compared to Yuna, you know. That match is profitable in so many ways.”

“Love is not about profit,” Wonwoo replies, his voice quiet and serious. “Like I said, it doesn’t matter what he thinks. Come here.” He pulls you in for a hug, your body wrapping around his while your head remains nestled against his throat, breathing in his addictive scent. You lay like that for a while basking in the peaceful silence and each other's warmth, his fingers drawing soothing on your back.

“Did you have dinner?” He asks softly. With a negative shake of your head, you look at his face, studying his stunning features up close. Without much of a thought, you press a kiss to his jaw, slowly trailing it to his lips. His soft lips meet yours for a chaste sweet kiss that gradually turns into a passionate, fiery one.

Wonwoo shifts, his body pressing yours flat on the bed as he comes on top, craning your neck higher to gain better access to your mouth. He kisses you like a starved man, his tongue exploring every inch of your mouth and you return the kiss with equal fervour, your hands tightly clinging onto his sweater, tugging on it, twisting the fabric in your grip as you lose yourself in his touch.

“Fuck,” Wonwoo inhales sharply, breaking apart from you. His eyes are glassy, illuminated by desire and his lips are bright red and swollen, a clear evidence of your passion. “Fuck, if we keep going, I cannot hold myself back.”

“Then don’t.” You whisper, looking up at him eagerly while licking your swollen lips. Wonwoo closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “No, I…I didn’t come here for this, fuck. I don’t want you to think that I’m—”

You shush him with a quick, soft kiss on his lips.

“We agreed to go on my pace, right? I want this Wonwoo, I promise.” You smile at him. Wonwoo hesitates, staring at you intensely and you see his eyes glance at your lips and his jaw harden. Then, with a soft, dejected sigh, he leans down and kisses you. He is softer and slower this time but there is determination in his every move, his hands going all over your body in a passionate, devoted caress.

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispers, looking into your eyes lovingly and in that moment, the pure adoration in his voice makes you truly feel beautiful. Beautiful and loved. You break into a shy but giddy smile, your hands working on unbuttoning the top two buttons of his sweater. Your movements are not rushed and Wonwoo is patient, simply observing you with adoration as you finish your task. Then, he sits up and takes off the sweater in a smooth motion.

Your eyes feast on every delicious inch of his naked skin, every contour of his muscles, scouring all over his chiseled body. It has been a long time since you saw him naked and you unashamedly cherish the visual in front of you, taking your time.

“May I?” Wonwoo asks softly, pointing to the hem of your sweater. With a smile you nod and he pulls it off, revealing your bare torso. Your nipples harden and your skin breaks into goosebumps because of the slight chill. Wonwoo immediately wraps his body around yours, hugging you tight and pressing kisses all over your neck and shoulders. He takes his time, kissing, sucking and marking your flesh while his hands work on taking off your bottoms.

"Do you know how mesmerizing you are?" He whispers, his thumb stroking your cheek with utmost tenderness as he flings away the last bit of clothing from your body. You lean into his touch, eyes falling closed at the contact as a soft sigh escapes your lips. He is looking at you like you are his entire world, like you are the only thing keeping him alive and it creates a foreign sense of desire in your belly, one you have never felt before.

"Lean back," his voice is a quiet command that you follow instantly, resting your back against the headboard and letting him sit comfortably. Not breaking eye contact with you, Wonwoo slowly spreads your legs wide. You watch with bated breath and a squeak leaves your mouth when he pushes his index finger inside you, slipping in easily due to your wetness. He makes a noise, a deep throaty groan as his digit finds home inside you. 

"Fuck, you're so wet," he murmurs as he inserts another finger and then another before curling them inside you.

"God— Wonwoo" You hiss at the pleasurable intrusion, grabbing the nearby pillow as your hips lift off the mattress. Your reaction makes him grunt as he fastens his pace and you feel your legs tremble, making you think that you are going to come already. Your core tightens around his fingers as more wetness leaks from you, only amplified when he brushes his thumb against your clit. Wonwoo devotes all his attention to your face, watching your expressions with a close, fascinated eye. “Close?” He whispers, his voice deep and scratchy. 

You nod your head aggressively, eyes screwed shut and your hips chasing his fingers in their own tandem. You climb higher and higher to your release, tingles shooting all through your body, making your legs shake. You open your eyes to see Wonwoo’s fingers still moving inside you while he shifts his position, making himself comfortable between your legs and leaning down.

“Wonwoo,” you croak, flushed with desire. 

“Shh,” he shushes you, slowing the movements of his fingers. “Let me taste you, hmm? I want you to cum on my face.” He murmurs, lips hovering over your thighs, the touch of his warm breath giving you goosebumps. The low gravel of his voice paired with the way he keeps looking at you from between your thighs makes you swallow thickly before resting your head back against the headboard, a shuddering breath leaving your lips as you feel your heart pound faster than ever.. 

The next moment you feel him flick your clit with his tongue and your entire body jolts, a long drawn out moan rushing past your mouth.

Fuck, you just might die.

Your body writhes while he holds your thighs open in a strong grip, incoherent gasps and curses of pleasure falling from your lips. Wonwoo is a man starved as he eats you out mercilessly, alternating between slow and fast licks, his tongue going deep inside your most intimate parts. You can't remain still, tears of pleasure stinging your eyes as your body shakes and pleas fall from your lips.

“Wonwoo, please… I need to come.”

“You want to come, sweetheart?” His voice comes out muffled. “Then come for me.” 

His words have your toes curling as he gives a harsh suck to your clit and in an instant, you go off like a firework. The heated coil in your belly snaps as your body twitches, sending you headfirst into an orgasm so good, so deep, tears drip down your eyes. All through it, Wonwoo keeps sucking your pussy, almost making you numb before stopping with a final kiss on your pussy and sitting back.

His lips glisten with your release as he sits on his knees, a cocky smile on his lips.

“You taste addictive, my love.” He murmurs, leaning forward to press soft, tantalising kisses on your jaw and down your throat. A satisfied hum falls from your lips as you close your eyes and savour his kisses, your body still reeling from that mind blowing orgasm.

His lips find yours again and your mouth reconnect in an embrace of passion, his tongue poking in your mouth as you taste yourself. One of his hands moves down amidst the kiss and you realize he's taking off his pants. With a soft groan, he breaks the kiss and quickly stands up to kick his boxers and pants down his legs. 

With your heartbeat still echoing in your ears, you admire him in his nakedness in the softly lit room, drinking every glorious inch of him. You can't stray your eyes from his cock, hard and leaking as you gulp and press your thighs together, feeling desire pool between your legs all over again.

Wonwoo crawls back into the bed, his eyes lit with carnal hunger as he makes himself comfortable on top of you, resting his weight on his elbows. “You ready for me?”

“Yes, please.” You almost whimper. “I need you so bad, Wonwoo. Just fuck me.”

He smiles. “As you wish.” He lines himself up and in the next moment, you feel his tip prodding at your core. He slides in easily, almost embarrassingly easy as your sopping cunt welcomes him with wide open arms. A low groan escapes from his throat as he buries his head in the crook of your neck, cursing under his breath The sound makes you clench around him which makes him curse again.

“Fuck, you are so tight, sweetheart. I missed you. I missed being inside you like this, fuck.”

You can only respond in an incoherent hum as he starts moving inside you, making you throw your head back and let out a loud moan. He raises his head to look at you and your eyes meet, making everything even more intense and intimate. The look in his eyes is ever captivating, enamoured yet full of heated desire as he thrusts in and out of you tirelessly, hitting that sensitive spot inside you perfectly each time.

“You're going to be the death of me.” He whispers, his mouth working on your jaw, moving down to your throat and sucking harshly on the soft flesh, making you shudder in pleasure. “Wonwoo!” You cry. “Fuck—”

“Where do you want me to cum, sweetheart?” He hums, trailing his lips back up to your mouth. “Inside me,” you reply immediately, every other thought and worry slipping out of your mind as you find yourself lost in his touch.

“Okay,” Wonwoo grunts, slightly increasing his pace. You pant heavily, clutching onto his back as he drives deep into you, his hands holding your waist in a bruising grip. “Gonna fill you up then, then. Make you mine all over again.” He promises, his eyes trained on your face like he is mesmerized by it as he delivers one particular thrust that has you arching off the bed and seeing stars. Each touch makes you feel like a goddess, like Wonwoo is a desperate devotee worshipping you at your altar which is your body. His pace is unforgiving, maddening, yet the look in his eyes is something new and intimate that turns this act into something so much more real, something that tugs at your heartstrings and makes you feel whole in an overwhelming way.

Then there is a soft touch on your swollen clit and a quiet command from him which has fireworks exploding all throughout your body. You cry out from the intense flood of pleasure as white spots dance in your vision, your hands twisting the fabric of the bedsheet so hard it would be no surprise if they tore. 

The next moment you feel Wonwoo release inside you with a deep groan and the feeling of his warm cum coating your insides gives your body another round of shivers as you almost blank out. Your body twitches and shivers as you feel numb for a few moments, your brain covered in a deep fog of mind numbing pleasure.

“You okay?” Wonwoo’s soft voice slowly brings you back to your senses and you smile with your eyes half closed. ‘Mhmm,” you mumble, leaning closer to him as he wraps an arm around you, rubbing your shoulders soothingly. You hum, eyes easily falling closed in the comfort and safety of his body.

“Hold on.” He whispers. “Let me clean you up, hm?”

You mutter complaints when he leaves your side to go to the bathroom. By the time he returns, you have drifted off with a smile still lingering on your face.

—

Your heels click on the hard floor as you walk down the hall to Chairman Jeon’s office. Despite resigning from his post, he often spends his mornings at his old office room, reading newspapers or idly staring at the city skyline from his window. It is convenient for you and Wonwoo because it is just nine o’clock and the first thing you have decided to do today is visit him and get it done with. 

Wonwoo walks in front of you, his steps quick and determined. Initially, he asked you to hold his hand while you showed up to meet Chairman Jeon but you refused. 

It felt improper to do. This is your workplace after all.

Wonwoo comes to a halt right in front of the door, his hand resting on the handle when he turns his head back to look at you. You give him a nod and a shaky smile and he returns it, bright and reassuring, his eyes silently cheering you on.

Then, without bothering to knock, Wonwoo pushes the door open and marches in.

You wait for a couple of seconds, taking a deep breath and preparing yourself before you follow him in. Chairman Jeon is surprised to see Wonwoo and even shocked to see you step in.

“I was not expecting to see you,” his tone is slightly flat and directed at Wonwoo, you realize. “Father,” Wonwoo murmurs as a greeting, looking rather bored. You watch the exchange awkwardly before the Chairman glances at you. “Ah, Miss ____. I was not expecting you either but what a pleasant surprise. I was going to ask you to come in for a chat soon. How was your vacation?”

“It was great, sir.” You reply, more politely and humbly than ever before.

“Good, good.” he nods. “What brings you here this early?” He pauses for a second, his eyes averting to his son. “Don’t tell me he got into any trouble?”

“Oh! No, sir, not at all.” You rush to clarify, looking helplessly at Wonwoo. He catches your gaze and takes the lead. “I’m here to talk to you,” he announces. “About something important.” 

A pause. “You wanted to know who I’m seeing, right?”

The chairman nods. Suddenly his eyes flash bright and he looks at you with excitement. “Did you finally manage to convince him to share it with me? I knew you could do it!”

Oh god. You cringe inwardly, an awkward yet terrified smile plastered on your face.

“No, father, please—” Wonwoo sighs, rubbing his forehead. He slumps down on the empty couch in front of Chairman Jeon and motions you to sit next to him. You tentatively do so.

“You wanted to see her. Here she is.” Wonwoo states matter of factly, looking at his father dead in the eyes like he is talking about the weather. 

Chairman Jeon blinks at his son, evidently confused. Then he glances at you and after a moment's pause, his eyes widen and his lips part slightly.

Well, the cat is out of the bag now.

Wonwoo has the grace to give his father a few moments to digest the information before he continues. “Out of respect for you, she wanted to do this. Now the thing is father…” Wonwoo pauses, putting his elbows on his knees to interlock his fingers and lean closer, “I love her.”

The confession has your heart skipping not one but multiple beats as your head whips towards him, absolutely stunned. 

He is dead serious. 

He continues, looking at his father in the eye, “She is the one for me so I’m sure now you get why I was so against your matchmaking. More importantly, I need you to know that I’m not here to ask your permission or blessings. I will continue to see her, whether you like it or not. There is that.”

You have the urge to put your head in your hands, maybe even scream at Wonwoo. Could he not have been slightly nicer?

The chairman continues to stare at his son impassively for long, suffocating moments. The two seem to have engaged in a staring contest, their gaze loaded with challenge as the air in the room thickens up with tension. You start to think they have forgotten about your presence in the room when finally, Chairman Jeon turns his glance to you.

“Could you please excuse us, Miss ___?” His voice is normal, devoid of any indication of pleasure or lack thereof. “I need to speak to my son in private.” The latter words come out sharper as his gaze refocuses on Wonwoo.

You immediately stand up. “Yes sir, of course.” You murmur and turn around. Your eyes lock with Wonwoo’s and you scowl at him but he just smiles. “I’ll see you later.”

You give him a stiff nod and rush out the door to find Secretary Yu standing right outside.

“Miss ___.” He greets in his regular monotone voice.

“Secretary Yu,” your words come out slightly breathy due to your shock. You are about to pretend nothing happened and walk away but a question pops in your head and you glance back at him.

“Did you know?” You ask.

He remains silent, his face stoic and his gaze boring at you but he seems to have understood what you are referring to. Finally, he replies. “I had a guess.”

“Why did you not tell Chairman Jeon?”

“Because I did not have evidence. And to be honest, knowing CEO Jeon, I assumed he was not serious about you. I am surprised to learn otherwise.” Neither his face nor his tone indicates any surprise. You are not even sure if you detect approval or dismay in his words. As always, he is unreadable and you feel slightly frustrated.

“I see.” You reply, your tone flat. Your feet continue down the hallway, your footsteps echoing through the narrow chamber. Secretary Yu calls your name, forcing you to stop and turn around.

“Take it easy.”

You nod and continue walking.

—

Originally, today was supposed to be your first day at Jeon Industries but the plan changed due to some last minute shifts. You still have one more case to wrap up for your firm so you are set to start at Jeon Industries from tomorrow. Now, you are more than grateful for this delay because staying inside the building was suffocating. You could not have gotten any work done, knowing Chairman Jeon was right down the hallway, talking to Wonwoo and deciding your fate. 

As soon as you are out of the building, you breathe a sigh of relief and hail a cab to meet up with your last client from your previous workplace. Ten minutes into the car ride, your phone rings and you know it is Wonwoo. You pick up immediately.

“Hi.” You whisper, your voice slightly breathy, your heart thudding loudly in your chest.

“Hey,” Wonwoo’s soft voice comes through the speaker. “Are you on your way to meet your client?”

“Yes.” You reply quickly. “How was it, Wonwoo? Does he hate me?”

You hear your boyfriend laugh, leaving you perplexed. “No actually. He hates me but that’s old news.” “Gosh, Wonwoo—” You huff, raking a hand through your hair out of frustration. “Will you just tell me what he told you?” “Alright, alright. He just asked me if I knew what I was doing and if I could really make this work with you.”

“Huh?”

“Trust me, I was surprised too.” He chuckles. “He was pretty tame about it. If anything, he seemed to be worried for you. He flat out told me he thinks I don’t have the balls to keep a girl like you around. He said I would blow it which, to be fair, I did once so he’s not wrong about that.”

You are stunned to silence.

“Really? Are you sure you’re not kidding, Wonwoo?”

“Yes, sweetheart, I’m sure. You can relax now. You had nothing much to worry about in the first place. He has no reason to dislike you and even if he did, it would not have mattered.”

You let out a loud breath of relief, one you feel like you have holding all morning. “Well,” you smile even though he cannot see it. “I am relieved.”

“I’m glad to hear that. Should we meet up tonight? I am heading out right now to visit our factories and I think my work there will take up the day.”

“I have plans with Rina tonight.” You reply apologetically.

“Ah, that’s alright. Have fun. I will see you tomorrow at the office anyway.”

“Mhmm.” You bite your lip, hesitating to ask the question bugging your mind.

“I know you have something you want to tell me.” Wonwoo’s voice is playful and you cannot help but giggle out loud. “How did you know?”

He laughs and you imagine his cocky smirk. “I just do. You’re my girlfriend, after all. Now spill.”

You take a deep breath in. “Do you love me?”

“What kind of a question is that?”

“No… it's just that, earlier, you said that you loved me. Do you really?”

“Of course I do.” His voice is soft, almost pleading. 

A broad smile kisses your lips. “I see. I just wanted to make sure. I mean…you never said it to my face before.”

“I…I didn’t because—” he stutters, “well, I did not want to put pressure on you. We agreed to take it slow this time and I thought it might be…I don’t know…I’m sorry. I was so passionate in there and it just came out…” He trails off nervously. 

“Wonwoo?” You call softly.

“Yes?”

“I love you too.”

You can practically hear him break into a smile. “Really?” He asks, his pitch higher than usual, a clear sign he’s excited. You grin, shaking your head up and down. “Really.”

His deep, melodic laughter floats through and you cannot help but join in. Briefly, you wonder what the cab driver may think of you, laughing like this with your phone pressed to your ear but you’re too in love to care.

“Thank you.” Wonwoo finally says, his voice soft yet serious. “It…it took me losing you to realize how much I love you. At first, I was mad, to be honest. I have never been rejected by a girl before. But then as days passed, a sinking feeling swallowed me up whole. I realized I love you and I was an asshole to you. I became sure of it when I saw you with Jeonghan and for many days, I thought I lost you for good. God, I don’t want to feel like that ever again.” He ends with a deep sigh, his words so raw they penetrate deep into your heart. 

You open your mouth to assure him but he continues. “I’m sorry it took me losing you to love you but still, I’m glad. I’m glad and I’m happy that you gave me another chance. I love you, ___. I am so happy I get to love you.”

God have mercy. Tears sting your eyes and you look up, fanning your face.

“Wow, Jeon Wonwoo,” you try to sound playful but your voice comes out hoarse, choked with emotions. “I was not expecting this. Especially over the phone.”

His soft laughter floats through. “I know right, I wasn’t either. I just…felt like telling you, I guess.”

“Well, thank you. I love it when you are honest with me.”

“Then I will try to be more honest with you from now on.” He pauses and then sighs. “Sweetheart, I’m getting a call. I’ll call you tonight?”

“Yes, tonight.” You reply with a smile.

—

The breakfast club is packed, full of elderly people—retired rich businessmen and their wives, to be exact—who gossip, play golf, eat, and smoke in the early morning on a Tuesday while the rest of the world is on their way to work. 

You feel out of your depth here and you would have never come to a place like this had it not been for Chairman Jeon’s instructions.

Last night after you got back from dinner with Rina, you saw the text Chairman Jeon sent you. There was an address below which he wrote:

Meet me here tomorrow at 8.30 am.

Your heart stopped beating immediately and shriveled up in your chest as the reality of the situation hit you. The other shoe had finally dropped and you spent the entire night feeling restless and worrying out of your mind. You lied to Wonwoo to avoid talking to him, saying you felt very sleepy. Instead, you spent the majority of your night pacing back and forth in your room, conjuring up a thousand different ways this meeting could go.

Now, you are here, amidst the chatter of rich people, waiting for your fate to be decided.

With a deep breath, you square your shoulders and put your best game face on as you walk through the large dining space enclosed in a glass building right next to the huge golf field. You continue straight down until you reach the end of the room and find Chairman Jeon at a table, flipping through a newspaper. 

Before your mind starts spiraling you head towards him.

“Good morning, Chairman.”

He looks up from his newspaper and smiles. “Ah, you’re just on time! Sit.” He motions to the empty space opposite him and you do so diligently. A waitress comes to your table, serving you a cup of earl grey tea and refilling the Chairman’s empty cup.

“Thank you for taking the trouble to come see me before your work.” He says, folding the newspaper and putting it on the table, next to his teacup.

“No trouble, sir.” You murmur humbly. 

“Try the tea while it's hot.” He ushers you to take a sip. “It is very good.”

You do so, taking small sips of your tea and observing him over the rim of the cup. He is dressed in a tracksuit and pants, the most informal you have ever seen him. He remains silent, simply sipping his tea and glancing outside the floor to ceiling windows of the breakfast area and out into the golf field.

Your mind starts running rampant.

He is here to tell you off right? You have seen it in dramas; he will hand you a stack of money and tell you to fuck off and leave his son alone. If he is more pissed, he might splatter that tea all over you. Or worse, what if he tells you that you are fired from Jeon Industries? Oh my god, how embarrassing it would be. What would you say to your colleagues?

Oh God help me.

Despite the downward spiral of your brain, you take notice of one thing. Chairman Jeon’s gaze is still trained outside the window, the look in his eyes tender and full of longing. Curious, you follow his line of sight and spot a group of people on the golf field. An elderly man dressed in a tracksuit, holding a golf stick while talking animatedly to an elderly woman, presumably his wife, dressed like him. Beside them stands a younger girl, smiling at whatever he says while carrying a toddler. The old man interacts with the child, playing with him before taking him in his arms and swinging him around. It looks like they are a family, the grandparents bonding with their grandchild, and then you understand the look in the Chairman’s eyes.

As if he can hear your thoughts, he suddenly says, “You know, all my life all I did was work. My father founded this company and it was upon me to bring us name and fame. From my twenties all I knew was work and outside of it, nothing existed. Not even my wife and my son who needed me.” He pauses, a quiet heavy sigh falling from his lips. His eyes, however, remain trained on the family outside.

“I have known nothing but my work so maybe that’s why I still show up at the office even though I am retired, like yesterday. I am trying to build a life outside of work now but that ship has sailed, no?” he juts his chin to the family. “I have no one to spend time with, no one to call family. Not a wife who will spend the rest of my time with me. Not even a handful of good friends. My business mindset made me burn the bridges I built and I lost the few friends I had. Instead, I made enemies. I made my company great and I made enough people jealous of who I am and what I achieved. But now that those days are no more and I am just a retired old man, it is hard being here alone when everyone my age is here to spend time with their family and friends.”

Heavy silence hangs in the air.

You continue looking at Chairman Jeon, your heart heavy with the weight of his words. He has not been a good father or a good husband, you know that from Wonwoo and others. He, however, has been a good boss and a good leader for the company. You want to voice out those words to improve the mood but there is a lump in your throat that leaves you voiceless, making it hard for you to utter a word of reassurance. 

He finally casts his eyes at you. “When he told me it was you I was very surprised. I took the entire day processing this information.”

You sit straighter and nod understandingly. “I am very sorry for lying to you, sir. It really was not my intention. Plus, I wasn’t seeing Wonwoo at that time. We…we were on a break, I guess.”

The chairman sips his tea, looking at you inquisitively. “It will not be wrong of me to assume that my son did something wrong, will it?”

You press your lips together and tuck your chin to your neck, looking at him sheepishly over your glasses.

He laughs, the sound coming out as half a scoff. “This is what worries me. I think Wonwoo is incapable of holding on to a woman like you.”

There is a pause and you decide to break it. “Wonwoo is a good man, sir. He has changed a lot since the first time I met him. I trust him now. I trust his capabilities and his decisions.”

“He definitely has changed,” he murmurs, taking another sip. “I still am worried. A father’s concern I suppose.” He pauses, glancing outside the window for a moment. 

“You are one of my most valuable employees, Miss ___. You’re an asset to the company and everyone agrees on this. You have handled all issues of my son with the utmost expertise and you have been a stellar employee. It’s just that…”

What? I’m not good enough to be your potential daughter-in-law? The chairman sighs, “I don’t trust my son. If this relationship fizzles out then you cannot just cut yourself off, can you? You will still be an employee here. And if you decide to leave…”

What? Is he worried that you will spill all the details, all the private information to someone else?

“Sir,” You begin, your voice steady and confident. “If you are worried about my loyalty then please know that it will not waver. Whatever the outcome of my relationship with Wonwoo is, I will continue to be an employee here. I assure you that my— our professional life will be separate from our personal one.”

Chairman Jeon regards you silently for a long while as if pondering your words before nodding his head thoughtfully. Then, he smiles. “You know, I have more faith in you than my own son. You have proven yourself capable many times…something that my son has yet to do.” His gaze in his eyes becomes unfocused as you see his mind trail off somewhere else. “Sometimes I wonder whether it was a good idea to make him the CEO so quickly.”

“Sir,” you begin carefully. “He is still young and very new to this entire thing. Give him some time to prove himself. Let him face the challenges so that he can overcome them by himself. I have faith in him, sir, and I think you should too. We need to cheer him on so he does not question himself.” You abruptly stop, your face heating up at the passion and the borderline annoyance in your tone. Too shy to meet his eyes, you hastily fix your glasses a take a sip of your tea to busy yourself.

Chairman Jeon who has been watching you rather fascinatedly breaks into an amused smile. “Hm, you are quite right.” He hums, his sharp eyes, so much like Wonwoo’s, set intensely on you. “Well then, I suppose I can only wish you well on your new journey. With your work and your relationship.”

“Thank you, sir.” You smile gratefully, your heart finally at ease and free of weight. He nods, glancing at his watch. “I have kept you for too long already. You will be late for office on your first day.” “It’s alright, sir.” You reply, truly meaning it. Sliding your bag over your shoulder you stand up. “It was lovely to spend time with you.”

“Go on now. I’ll see you around.” He ushers you away with his hands. You nod respectfully and take your leave. Taking only three steps away from the table, you stop and turn around, unable to hold back the words brewing in your mind.

“Sir?”

“Hm?” He glances up.

“You still have a family, you know. You still have Wonwoo.” You hold his gaze, speaking the words slowly and carefully. He remains mute, watching you with a gaze clouded by a thick haze. Of what, you don’t know.

Finally, he nods, a small, subtle shake of his head. With that, the corners of his lips upturn slightly, just ever so slightly but it is a smile nevertheless.

You smile back and walk away.

—

You head to Wonwoo’s office first thing after parking your car in the garage. 

Your heels click against the shiny floor as you walk down the hallway, stopping in front of Secretary Yu’s office. “Is Wo— CEO Jeon in?”

He nods, looking at you with a subtle frown. “Thanks.” You chirp and rush towards his room, entering after a quick knock. 

Wonwoo sits behind his desk, focused on his computer. The sound of the door opening makes him look up and surprise flutters across his face.

“Hey there, sweetheart.” He grins, rolling his chair back to stand up. “Came to see me first thing in the morning?” You only smile and hurry towards him, wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your head on his solid chest, a content sigh falling from your lips. “I just met your dad.” You mumble.

You feel him become tense. Gently holding your shoulders, he pries you from his body and looks at you with concern. “What? Why? Did he say something to you?”

You shake his head with a smile. “No. It was just a chat. He was very lovely. I think he approves of me.”

Wonwoo watches you, the concern on his face melting away. A bemused smile kisses his lips. “Is that why you are so happy?”

You nod with a smile and Wonwoo laughs softly. 

“You know,’’ you murmur thoughtfully. “Your father is quite nice after all.” He arches an amused brow.

You smile. “I’m just saying. You should give him another chance.”

“Wow. My girl is quite optimistic today, isn’t she?” 

You giggle, hugging him again. “I love you.” The words fall from your lips easily and naturally, like you have spoken them your entire life. “Let’s be happy together.”

You feel Wonwoo’s body relax, his hands coming to rest on the crown of your head, his fingers going through your hair. He presses a kiss on the top of your head and hugs you tighter. “We will be. I promise.”

Your chin rests right below his collarbone, your eyes peeking at his face with a doe eyed look. He kisses your lips, soft and sweet. “I love you. Always.” He whispers.

I love you.

That’s it. That’s the verdict. 

for a special epilogue click here and take a look at their future!

© startlightxsvt 2025 | All Rights Reserved. Do not copy, translate, adapt, or repurpose any of my works.

A/N: so, that is the end of our journey! when I tell you writing this was fun, I really mean it, esp this final part. i had a blast with this and i hope it was equally good for you guys. i am really looking forward to hear what you all thought of this entire series so please drop your thoughts in my ask box. as always like and share and have a lovely day!

on a separate note, i will not upload anything for the next month or so as i'm working on a huge vernon fic which i am VERY excited to share with you all. the teaser should come out in late feb/early march but nothing is set yet. still, i hope y'all anticipate it <33

[xoxo-lixie]

Gloss and Glances ᝰ.ᐟ

Paring- Felix x Reader

Summary- Backstage, Felix pouts for attention as Y/N, Stray Kids’ makeup artist and his girlfriend, applies his lip gloss. Frustrated by her focus on work, he kisses her, smudging the gloss

The backstage area of the arena was alive with energy—stylists rushing between stations, cords snaking across the floor, and the distant echo of fans chanting outside. Under the bright dressing room lights, Felix sat patiently in a chair, though “patiently” might have been a stretch. His foot tapped lightly against the floor, not out of nerves for the upcoming performance, but for an entirely different reason.

Y/N, Stray Kids’ trusted makeup artist and Felix’s not-so-secret girlfriend, was busy organizing her kit. Her hands moved quickly, adjusting palettes and brushes, her focus sharp. She’d already done touch-ups on most of the members, and now it was Felix’s turn.

Finally.

Y/N approached with her usual professional demeanor, her eyes scanning his face with practiced precision. She picked up the small tube of clear lip gloss from her kit and uncapped it, not noticing the way Felix’s eyes had softened the moment she stepped closer.

“Alright, stay still,” she murmured, her thumb gently resting under his chin to steady his face.

Felix obeyed, but his pout had already started to form, subtle at first. His gaze never left her face, drinking in the details—the slight crinkle between her brows when she concentrated, the way her bottom lip tucked between her teeth as she focused. She was always like this when she worked: calm, meticulous, almost too professional for his liking.

He wanted her attention—not the kind she gave to every member, but his attention.

“You know,” Felix said quietly, his voice low and slightly playful, “I think you like this gloss more than you like me.”

Y/N’s hand paused mid-swipe, her eyes flickering up to meet his. “Don’t be dramatic.” She fought the small smile threatening to break through her professional facade.

Felix, not one to back down, pushed his pout out further. “I’m serious. You’re focusing so hard on my lips, but not because you like them. It’s just… work to you.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, finishing the last swipe of gloss on his bottom lip. She leaned back slightly, inspecting her work. “First of all, I do like your lips. They’re symmetrical, soft, and easy to work with.”

Felix’s pout deepened. “That sounds like something you’d say about a good makeup brush.”

She couldn’t help it—she laughed, the sound light and genuine, making Felix’s heart flutter. But she didn’t respond with words. Instead, she reached out with a tissue to clean up a tiny smudge near the corner of his mouth.

Felix caught her wrist gently before she could pull away. His touch was soft, but it sent a current of warmth straight through her.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice softer now, no teasing undertone—just sincere, raw affection.

Her heart stuttered. She met his gaze, expecting another playful remark, but instead, she was met with eyes filled with warmth, the kind of look that melted away the noise around them.

“I miss you,” he whispered simply.

Y/N felt her breath hitch. They’d been so busy lately—schedules packed, rehearsals endless. Even though she was always near him, it wasn’t the same. She couldn’t respond like she wanted to, not in the middle of work, surrounded by staff and members.

But Felix didn’t care about any of that.

Without another word, he leaned forward, closing the small gap between them, and pressed his lips to hers. It was soft, tentative at first, as if asking for permission. The faint sweetness of the gloss lingered between them, but neither of them cared if it smudged.

Y/N froze for a heartbeat, stunned by the suddenness of it, but then she melted into the kiss, her hand instinctively finding its place on his cheek. It was brief, maybe only a few seconds, but it held everything they hadn’t had the chance to say aloud.

When Felix finally pulled back, his eyes crinkled slightly at the corners from the soft smile spreading across his face.

“Now,” he whispered, his forehead resting gently against hers, “that’s attention.”

Y/N was breathless, her heart racing in a way that had nothing to do with the chaotic energy of the backstage environment. She tried to muster a response, something witty to break the tension, but all she managed was a soft, shaky laugh.

“You just ruined your gloss,” she whispered.

Felix grinned, unbothered. “Guess you’ll have to fix it.”

Y/N shook her head, her cheeks flushed, but she picked up the gloss again. This time, as she leaned in to reapply it, Felix didn’t pout or complain. He just watched her with the same loving look, his heart full, knowing that even in the chaos, they’d always find small moments like this—where it was just the two of them, gloss and all.

[ladiesworldsblog]

I nodded silently, my cock tried to get hard, but she locked it and reminded me, that it’s her privilege afterwards to release me.

I lost sight of her during the party several times, but as she appeared again, she had that lovely sexy smile, that special glow on her face - and I instantly knew where this was coming from.

It was a great party and I really enjoyed to see some of my friends again, there aren’t too many chances as some of them live far away from our place.

As he last guest left our house, I looked around to search for my wife, I heard her calling me to the bedroom. She made herself feel comfy on our bed, had taken her shoes off and gave me a daring peek on her pussy. She was so swollen red and slimy, I discovered lots of dried cum on her cunt.

My slutty wife had fun for sure. She spread her legs for me and I could see, that cum was oozing out of her pussy. I knew what she expected from me. I crawled onto our bed between her legs and started to kiss and lick her sensitive area.

She started to tell me, that she has snacked some of my friends and she reminded me, that obviously everyone of them has so much more to offer in size, thickness, technique and stamina compared to me. And she let them cum inside of her.

She undressed her blouse to let me see her beautiful boobs, while I was eating her out like a hungry wolf. Obviously I did it right, she was getting close and finally she came so hard and had her contractions, he toe curled and she gave me her lovely O-face.

She needed to calm down a minute or two and told me to get rid of my clothes, she’s ready to give me her birthday gift now and she showed me the key. I had hoped for a release tonight, but of course I didn’t dared to ask or beg for it, otherwise I would have risked to ruin my chance.

We snuggled and cuddled while she unlocked me, I still had sperm on my lips and in my face and she kissed me passionately to get a taste of cum, she loves the taste. She rolled on her back and let me mount her, my cock was hard and she helped me to get it into her well used pussy.

She usually doesn’t like the missionary position - at least not with me, she did it as a favor for me. And I enjoyed it, much more than she did. Her silky and sloppy cunt felt so fucking great, it has been a while for me, since she gave me that pleasure.

While I was slowly fucking her and she faked some moans to give me an impression that I‘m making something right, she started to tell me the names of our guests, who had the same pleasure before. She already had told me four names as she made a pause and I thought this would be it. But she pulled me close and whispered a fifth name in my ear.

I was shocked and looked deep into her lustful eyes, I couldn’t believe it, but she just nodded and I pulled out and jerked my cock until I sprayed her whole body with my juice. She gave me a winning smile and instantly locked me up again.

Of course, I licked her clean and enjoyed the taste of my hot sperm and inhaled the scent of sex from her lovely body. She didn’t told me the name of another friend, it was my dad’s name. He always had an eye on her and I remember that I‘d seen him flirting with her today, but I never imagined that she‘ll let him have her. I was so wrong.

She told me that she can’t believe that I‘m his son as he’s quite hung and knows how to fuck a woman and make her cum on his cock. She cuddled and kissed me, telling me to get some sleep now. And as my mind was already spinning, thinking about my old man having fun with my wife, she added that he invited us for dinner the next day. And I felt how my cock was trying hard to escape its prison, but I won’t get lucky again soon.

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

When You're Ready

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.3k

Warnings: being a single mom, the hard side of being a parent, overstimulation?

Summary: Being a single mother hasn’t always been easy, and life catches up to you whether you want it to or not. You have so much on your plate that you’re not even thinking about being in a relationship. Spencer likes you and he makes it clear that he’ll wait for you no matter how long it takes.

Square Filled: huddle for warmth for @anyfandomgoesbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are greatly appreciated <3

x

Today could not be any worse than it is right now. You didn’t have time to brush your hair, you barely got your teeth brushed, your clothes are wrinkly because you forgot to iron them last night, the heater is broken in your house so all your daughter does is complain that it’s too cold, and you’re trying to get both her and yourself ready for the day.

“Mama, I’m hungry!” she whines.

“Food is coming, baby,” you say.

As you try not to cry, you plate more breakfast for her and set it on her tray. She immediately digs into the pancakes like she’s never been fed before. The TV is blaring in the living room as it plays yet another episode of Spongebob, her favorite TV show. Right now, that little sponge is giving you a massive headache. The coffee machine beeps for the tenth time, and you have an overwhelming urge to chuck it out the window. The machine has been broken for quite some time now but will make a cup of coffee every once in a while.

Today is not one of those days.

Suddenly, the doorbell rings and you just about stop and cry right there. What now? Who could this possibly be while you’re already running late for work? You leave Casey in the kitchen and walk to the front door. On the way, you almost slip on one of her toys, and you kick it harder than you should have. You open the front door and see your housekeeper standing there. You barely have enough to pay her since you had to downgrade a bunch of stuff since the divorce, but she stayed and accepted the new salary.

You’re honestly not sure what you would do without her.

“Oh, Shelly, it’s you.”

“Rough morning?” Tears well in your eyes at her question because you’re forced to think how this morning has been in a sea of bad ones. “Oh, Y/N, don’t worry about a thing. I’m here now.”

“Thanks,” you whisper and close the door behind her. You turn down the TV so that you don’t have to shout at Shelly. “Um, Casey has a field trip today. I looked at the weather and it’s going to be cold so make sure she packs a jacket. She’ll fight it but make sure she has one, okay?”

“Y/N, how long have I been looking after this little girl? I’ll be okay. Don’t you have work?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Here, let me.”

She fixes your hair until it looks presentable, and you give her a warm smile.

“Thank you. The coffee machine is broken. I’ll pick one up on the way home.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll get a new one. I have a few other things to pick up at the store.”

“Okay. Bye, Casey! Mommy is off to work. I love you!”

“I love you!” she sings back.

Despite how hard it’s being a single mom, she always brings a smile to your face. Not only is it hard being a single mom, but you work in the FBI where your job is demanding and requires a lot out of you. It’s why you needed to hire Shelly. Before, she was here because your ex-husband paid to have her clean the house. You both had jobs and weren't home enough to keep up with it. Now with Casey, she’s a blessing in disguise.

Hotch makes it look so easy. Since Haley was killed, he’s been doing a good job at raising his son and being the Unit Chief. He has Beth and Haley’s sister, but it’s just him most of the time. You have no one but Shelly, and she only comes three times a week. Casey’s father fled the second you told him you were pregnant so you had to do this entire thing by yourself. All Casey knows is the team because you have them over ever so often.

She’s more familiar with Hotch since he brings Jack over for playdates because they are around the same age. Though, she loves Spencer more than anyone on the team. You’re only friends with him but he’s expressed interest in you. He’s made it clear that you’re on his mind, but you can’t be dating right now. There’s no time for boyfriends or flings or whatever Spencer would be. Your life is too complicated. Add in a toddler and a lawsuit for child support, and it’s too much for someone else to handle.

You told him this much, and he seems okay with being your friend. You still catch him watching you and blushing when you give him a compliment, but he’s been respectful of your boundaries.

You walk into work and notice everyone inside the briefing room. You practically throw your shit down on your desk and run to the briefing room.

“So sorry I’m late. Traffic,” you white-lie.

“It’s okay. We’re just going over updates on our cases and finishing files,” Hotch says.

The B Team must be out right now, and you sag your shoulders in relief. You need a chill day right now more than anything. After a rundown of the open cases, you take yours back to your desk to get started on them. Spencer does the same but he approaches your desk from the front.

You barely look up at him. “Oh, hey, Spencer.”

“Rough morning?” You scoff but don’t say anything. You don’t want to hurt his feelings. “How is Casey doing?”

“She’s good. She has a field trip today at the aquarium.”

Spencer is about to say a fact when he sees the look on your face. Maybe he shouldn’t be himself right now.

“That should be fun.” Again, you don’t respond. All you want to do is focus on your work and not on the headache you have. Instead of going back to his desk, he sits next to yours. “You know, if you ever need someone to watch Casey, I’m more than happy to do it. Even for an entire weekend. It’ll give you time to yourself.” You stop typing and look at him. “Only if it’s okay with you, of course. Or maybe I can come over and hang with her while you get some sleep or something.”

“What are you doing?”

“What? I’m just trying to help.”

It’s the way he said it that makes your back crack under the pressure. You know he doesn’t deserve this but you’re saying it anyway because he’s here.

“You’re not her father, Spencer!”

“I know, but--”

“Look, that’s nice of you to offer but I have been raising her by myself since she was born. Even before she was born. I didn’t need help then and I don’t need it now. If you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”

You gather your finished files and walk away from your desk. Tears threaten to spill but you won’t let it. Not now.

“Okay,” Spencer says, his voice small.

Yep, you hate yourself now. Truth be told, he kind of scares you. He’s everything you’ve ever wanted in a man, and that scares you. He’s safe and predictable and dependable, everything you never had, not even with Casey’s father. He messed you up so badly that you learned you can’t depend on anyone for anything.

Not even Spencer.

After putting your files away, you slip into the bathroom and just cry. All this stress shouldn’t be good for you. The bathroom door opens and you immediately wipe the tears away. JJ frowns when she sees the tears, and you splash some water on your face to get the redness to go away.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. What’s up?”

“I was just wondering if you could come over to my place at two instead of four. Will is having his boys come at two, and I figured my girls could be there at the same time to get coordinated with them.”

“What?”

“Please don’t tell me you forgot about my wedding. It’s next weekend. You’re my maid of honor.”

Shit. You completely forgot about that. You’ve been so focused on not breaking down that her wedding has completely slipped your mind.

“No, I didn't forget.” You wince at the lie. “Okay, it slipped my mind, but I will be there. Two, not four.” You’re about to leave when you remember Shelly telling you she is going out of town next weekend. You don’t have money for a babysitter. “Would it be okay if I brought Casey? Shelly is going to be out of town.”

“Yes, the more the merrier. I love Casey, and I know Henry does, too.”

“Thank you, JJ,” you sigh.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m just stressed is all. I don’t think I slept more than a few hours each night, my hair needs a cut, I need an everything shower, and I don’t have time to do any of it.”

“Yeah, motherhood can be tough.”

“Tell me about it. Not to mention, I think I might have hurt Spencer’s feelings. I yelled at him. He’s just trying to help.”

“He’s a big boy. He’ll get over it. What did he say?”

“He offered to look after Casey for a weekend.”

“It might be good to take him up on the offer.”

You shrug. “I gotta get back to work.” You leave the bathroom and notice Spencer at his own desk. “Spencer?” He looks up and smiles when he sees you, making you feel even worse than you do. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you or said those things.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not okay. You were just trying to help.”

“The offer still stands if and when you want to use it. Think about it.”

The rest of the week is pretty chill since the B Team is still out, giving you and Spencer more time to strengthen your relationship. He shows up to work with an extra coffee, a breakfast sandwich, and a smile just for you. He wants to make sure you eat because that’s the only thing he can do right now to help you.

On the day of the wedding, you know he is going to be right there in the audience. He agreed to look after Casey while you stand next to JJ, so you’re getting her dressed in her pretty pink sparkle dress.

“So, while Mommy is up with Aunt JJ, you’re going to be seated next to Spencer in the audience. Right there in the front.”

“I like Spencer,” she grins.

You smooth down your hair and smile. “Me, too.”

“Are you gonna marry him?”

“No,” you laugh.

“I bet he’d make a great dad.”

You choose not to say anything to that and lead her down the aisle where Spencer is seated. The wedding is located in JJ’s own backyard, but it’s perfect. It’s everything she’s ever wanted and more. Casey has a strict bedtime but the wedding goes past that, so naturally, she gets cranky by the time the reception happens. She’s hungry and restless, two things a toddler should never be at the same time.

“Just another hour and I promise, we can go home. I promised JJ we’d be here.”

“I’m hungry, Mama, and I’m bored.”

“Hey, what’s going on here?”

You look up and see Spencer approaching you two.

“Sorry, she skipped her nap today, and it’s past her bedtime. She’s just bored.”

“May I?” You nod. “Hey, Casey? Would you like to dance? Just one, and then maybe we can get some cake.”

“Okay,” she grins.

Spencer takes her to the dancefloor while you stay seated at one of the tables. He whispers something to her and she eagerly steps onto his shoes. He dances around in circles with her on his shoes, and she giggles happily. It doesn’t matter how much of a shitty week you’ve been having. She’s smiling and laughing and that means you’re doing a pretty damn good job. Spencer picks her up and holds her close so he can dance properly, and she leans her head on his chest.

Would it be so bad to let him in? Maybe not, but you’re clearly not in the headspace for it. Is he willing to wait? You don’t want to keep him from other relationships even though it doesn’t look like he’s rushing to be in one.

After two songs are over, Spencer lets her down. He whispers something to her and she runs off in search of either Henry, Jack, or both. He walks over to you and holds out his hand.

“Care to dance?”

“Yes,” you smile.

You grab his hand and he brings you to the dancefloor. The next song is a slow one, so he pulls you in close to him. One hand in yours and the other low on your back. Has he always smelled this good?

“Thank you for what you did. She likes you a lot.”

“I like her a lot.” He dips his head lower so that his forehead barely touches the top of your head. “I like her mother, too.” Your heart thumps but in a good way. It’s like everyone else around you disappears until it’s only you and Spencer. “I’ll wait however long you need me to.”

You look up at him with tears. “What?”

“If time and space is what you need, I’ll give it to you. Just know that I’ll be here when you’re ready.”

“You might be waiting a while,” you whisper.

“I’m a patient man.”

You rest your head on Spencer’s chest and let the music guide you. He runs his hand up and down your back, creating a safe and warm aura about him.

“You make me feel safe,” you whisper.

Whether he hears it or not, he doesn’t respond. He just continues to dance with you long after the song has ended.

x

Want to be tagged? Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[deansbeer]

♡ a hunter's journey to fatherhood ⎯⎯ dean winchester.

📖 LIBRARY !

SYNOPSIS. dean struggles with anxiety about fatherhood, avoiding you until guidance from mildred helps him embrace love, vulnerability, and hope.

WARNING(S). slight angst | hurt comfort | f!reader | anxiety | self-doubt | dean's fear of failure as a new father | emotional vulnerability | moments of crying | mentions of childhood trauma (a big FUCK U 2 john winchester) | alcohol use (though not excessively) | avoidance | isolation | pregnancy.

kari talks ◞ i saw these gifs of dean n mildred pop up on my feed this morning so i had to write something w a lil fluffy angst <3 don't hate me bc it does have a happy ending !!! + this may sound rushed, has not much dialogue at the end, n repetitive :) my apologies !

dean winchester is an anxiety-riddled mess.

you’ve always known he’s carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, but ever since you told him you were pregnant, he’s been distant. not outright cold, but the kind of distant that eats at you—quiet moments stretched too long, averted gazes, and excuses to leave the room.

it hurts.

you knew dean had his doubts about himself; he’s never been shy about the scars his childhood left behind. but you didn’t expect him to pull away like this.

every time you thought about asking him where he stood—whether he was happy, scared, or maybe regretting it altogether—you stopped yourself. you didn’t want to burden him more than he already seemed to be.

so you busied yourself with little things, distracting yourself by cleaning the house, organizing your shared bedroom, or just sitting on the couch with a book, hoping he’d come around.

but tonight, dean isn’t home.

he’d slipped out a few hours ago, mumbling something about needing air. you didn’t push. you’d seen the tension in his jaw, the way his hands flexed and tightened at his sides like he didn’t know what to do with them.

what you didn’t know was that dean had driven into town, parked the impala outside the local dive bar, and gone inside to drown his thoughts in whiskey.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

the bar was dimly lit and half-empty, perfect for someone who didn’t want to be noticed.

dean sat at the counter, nursing his third drink, his mind spinning.

he couldn’t stop thinking about it. about you. about the baby.

him, a dad.

he snorted bitterly into his glass. what the hell did he know about being a father? he’d barely survived his own childhood. john winchester had been a lot of things—strong, determined, relentless—but a good dad? not even close.

and what if dean turned out just like him?

the thought made his chest tighten, panic clawing at his throat.

he closed his eyes, swallowing hard. the whiskey wasn’t helping; it was only making his emotions come faster, harder.

he slammed a couple of bills on the bar top and left, walking out into the cool night air.

he sat in the impala, gripping the steering wheel as his breath hitched.

and then it hit him—hot tears stinging his eyes, rolling down his cheeks before he could stop them.

he wiped at his face angrily, cursing under his breath.

what the hell is wrong with me?

but then, through the fog of his thoughts, he remembered mildred baker.

she’d helped him and sam on a hunt years ago, and she’d been one of the few people who’d ever managed to get through to him. she was kind, wise, and had this way of making you feel like everything was going to be okay, even when it felt like the world was falling apart.

before he could second-guess himself, he started the car and drove to her place.

⎯��⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

mildred greeted him with the warmth he hadn’t realized he needed.

“dean winchester,” she said with a smile, stepping aside to let him in. “to what do i owe the pleasure?”

he hesitated for a moment, standing in her doorway like a lost kid.

“uh... sorry for showing up so late,” he mumbled, scratching the back of his neck. “i just... i didn’t know where else to go.”

she frowned slightly, concern flickering across her face, but she didn’t ask questions.

“come on in,” she said gently, motioning for him to sit on the couch.

once they were seated, mildred folded her hands in her lap and waited patiently.

“so,” she said after a beat, her voice soft. “what’s got you all tied up in knots?”

and that’s when it all came tumbling out.

words spilled from dean’s mouth faster than he could stop them—about you, about the baby, about how terrified he was of screwing everything up.

“i just... i don’t know how to do this,” he admitted, his voice cracking slightly. “hell, i don’t even know if i can do this. what if i screw the kid up? what if i screw her up? she deserves better than me. they both do.”

mildred listened quietly, her expression soft but unreadable.

when he finally stopped, his chest heaving slightly from the emotional release, she reached over and placed a hand on his arm.

“dean,” she said gently, her voice steady. “you’re not your father.”

his head snapped up at that, his green eyes wide and vulnerable.

“but what if i am?” he whispered.

she smiled softly, shaking her head.

“you’re not,” she said firmly. “you’ve already proven that by coming here tonight. you care, dean. you care so much it’s eating you alive. and that’s what makes you different. john winchester loved you boys, but he didn’t know how to show it. you do. and that’s all that matters.”

dean swallowed hard, his throat tight.

“but what if i mess up?” he asked, his voice small.

“you will,” she said with a chuckle. “because that’s what parents do. we mess up. we’re human. but as long as you love that baby and love itd mama, you’ll figure it out.”

her words settled over him like a warm blanket, easing some of the tension in his chest.

“you’re gonna be a great dad, dean,” she said, her voice soft. “just follow your heart.”

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

later that night, after mildred helped him sober up, dean drove back home.

the house was quiet when he walked in, the only sound coming from the soft clinking of dishes in the kitchen.

he followed the sound, stopping in the doorway when he saw you standing at the sink.

you were wearing one of his old flannels, the sleeves rolled up as you washed the few remaining dishes from dinner.

he leaned against the doorframe, watching you for a moment.

god, you were beautiful.

even now, with your hair slightly messy and your focus on the task in front of you, you took his breath away.

he took a deep breath, gathering his courage, and stepped toward you.

you didn’t notice him at first, too lost in your own thoughts.

it wasn’t until he wrapped his arms around you from behind that you startled slightly, your body tensing before relaxing into his embrace.

“baby,” you said softly, your hands stilling in the soapy water.

he buried his face in the crook of your neck, breathing you in.

“where’ve you been?” you asked, your voice gentle but cautious. “are you okay?”

“yeah,” he said, his voice muffled against your skin. “i’m okay.”

you didn’t push for more, not when he mentioned he’d gone to see mildred.

instead, you leaned into him, letting his warmth settle around you like a shield.

he rubbed small circles on your stomach, his lips brushing against your neck.

and for the first time in weeks, you felt a flicker of hope.

but when you opened your mouth to ask him where he stood on the baby, he didn’t let you speak.

instead, he started rambling, the words tumbling out in a rush.

he told you how scared he was, how he’d been afraid he’d ruin everything, that he’d turn out like his dad or disappoint you.

“but i want this, sweetheart,” he said finally, his voice breaking slightly. “i want you. and i want this baby. i just... i needed to figure out how to not screw it up.”

tears stung your eyes as you turned to face him, cupping his face in your hands.

“dean,” you said softly, your voice thick with emotion. “you could never be like him. you love so much, sometimes too much. you’re going to be an amazing dad. i know it.”

he closed his eyes, leaning into your touch as a single tear slid down his cheek.

“thank you, baby,” he whispered.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

after you’d finished the dishes, you drew a bath for the both of you.

you knew he’d been sore and achy from a recent hunt, and you figured the warm water would help.

he sat behind you in the tub, his arms resting on either side of the rim as you leaned back against his chest.

you brought the soapy cloth to your chest, letting the warmth soothe you before handing it to him.

he took it, running it over his own chest before reaching down to gently rub your shoulders.

the quiet intimacy of the moment was enough to ease both your minds, the tension of the past few weeks melting away.

when the water started to cool, dean helped you out of the tub, wrapping a fluffy towel around you before leaning down to kiss your stomach.

you weren’t even showing yet, but the gesture made your heart swell.

he wrapped a towel around himself, and the two of you went through your nightly routines before climbing into bed.

dean was already lying down when you joined him, his hands behind his head as he waited for you.

you turned off the lights and crawled into bed, settling on top of him with your head on his chest.

his hand rested on your lower back, the other cradling the back of your head as he pressed a soft kiss to your hair.

the two of you talked quietly about what to expect, about names and nurseries and everything in between.

and when you finally drifted off to sleep, wrapped in his arms, you knew everything was going to be okay.

because dean winchester was going to be the best damn dad in the world.

[goodlucktai]

could you please do prompt number one with the a team duo? (raph and leo!!!) i just think leo is in need of big brother love sometimes <3 prompt number one: "Shit. Shit, shit, shit, c'mere." (btw, ur writing is amazing im literally blown away every time!!! tysm for all the writing u do)

dialogue prompts

1. “Shit. Shit, shit, shit, c’mere.”

x

Something bad happened to Leo in the prison dimension. In the minutes—the minutes—between losing him and getting him back, something bad happened to him.

“This isn’t right,” Casey had said that first night in the medbay, staring at the X-rays on the illuminator as if he could change them by wanting it hard enough. “These breaks aren’t new. They can’t be.” 

“He wasn’t running around with a spiral fracture in his tibia before the alien invasion,” Donnie replied tersely, more high strung with every second his twin remained limp and unresponsive on the infirmary bed. 

Mikey was glued to Leo’s side like a miserable orange barnacle, Splinter rarely venturing more than two steps away at a time. April had been torn in two with worry for Leo and worry for her mom, and had only been convinced to leave when S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N pinkie-promised to feed live updates to her phone at the top of every minute. 

If Leo had woken up even for just a minute back on Staten Island, it would have been a reassurance his family could stack all their hopes on. Instead, the brother they dragged out of the void had about as much life to his limbs as a ragdoll. His head lolled in Donnie’s hands like something out of a horror movie—and Mikey’s breaths started to shudder, and Raph thought for a fleeting, hysterical second that the world had ended, after all—and then Donnie found a heartbeat. He showed a weeping Mikey where to find it, their fingers pressed in the soft hollow of Leo’s throat where the carotid artery pulsed loud and clear. Raph kept his own hand there for the entire trip home. If that stubborn heart stopped he didn’t know what he would do. He didn’t know what he would do. 

“But the bone has already formed a hard callus,” Casey said. “I know sensei and my uncles healed faster than mom and Aunt April did but still. Leo shouldn’t have reached this stage of healing for another week at least.” 

Donnie’s face, already stormy, reached a level of dark anger Raph had never seen before. He studied the charts on the wall without speaking, memorizing them. Ninpo sparked around his fingers like he was only barely resisting committing violence, and only because the desired target was well beyond his reach. 

“What does that mean?” Raph asked hoarsely. His hands were squeezed tight between his knees so no one would see if they started to shake. 

“It means that either Nardo broke his bones in about eight different places a week ago and no one noticed,” Donnie said in a brittle deadpan, “or that monster put its hands on him in the prison dimension and Leo healed from it somehow.” 

“But he was only in there for like, for like ten minutes,” Mikey warbled. He sounded heartsick and confused and too young to carry the weight of the world on his shell. “We got him right back out, we—we didn’t leave him in there long enough for all that.” 

“I have a theory,” Donnie said, and then didn’t say anything else. He dragged a chair over to Leo’s bed with an unholy screeching sound, tucked his head against his twin’s at what couldn’t have been a comfortable angle, and started to tap around on his phone. 

“Okay,” Casey said at length, recognizing an immovable object when he saw one. He turned to Raph instead, a child-sized soldier whose mission wasn’t quite finished yet. “Raphael, could I look at your eye?”

He had finished cleaning Raph’s eye and patching up his shoulder and moved onto wrapping Mikey’s hands when Donnie surged up from his chair so suddenly that everyone in the room jumped. His phone crunched into two distinct pieces in his hand, military-grade case and all, and he flung them away. 

“Woah, hey,” Raph said, “Dee, are you—” 

“I ran diagnostics on Leo’s gear,” Donnie said. It was his flat, toneless voice, the one that meant he was feeling so many things he had to shut something down to prevent a total systems failure. “The timestamps didn’t make any sense. So I ran them again. And again. And everything seems to be indicating that Leo was in the prison dimension for over three hundred hours.”

No, Raph thought. He stared at the shape of his little brother in that bed, at the vivid black and blue bruises on his face—noticing for the first time the faint yellows of much older ones around his neck. 

Horror crept up Raph’s throat. 

Please, no. 

“What?” Mikey blurted, sounding as hysterical as Raph felt. “What? No, he couldn’t. He couldn’t have. It was only—”

“For us, thirteen minutes,” Donnie said bleakly. “For Leo, thirteen days.”

Since then, Raph has learned a lot more about temporal differentials and post-captivity recovery than he ever wanted to know. Donnie made four different PowerPoint presentations that the entire family was forced to sit through. All of them are budding experts on several subjects that they might otherwise not have been, studying as feverishly as undergrad students cramming for a final, desperate to be helpful. 

So this is Raph’s fault. He knew better.

If he’d taken even a second to think before following the unmistakable sound of a turtle falling out of bed into Leo’s room, before lunging over to the crumpled-up form of his little brother on the floor, he would have recognized the blackout for what it was. He, of all people, should have seen it. 

The episodes are few and far between, but only because Leo is rarely left alone when he’s awake, and sleeps even less than he did before. It’s easier for him to keep his head straight when he’s ensconced in a turtle pile, or curled up in Splinter’s lap for reruns of really bad soap operas that he mumbles along to in Spanish, or keeping Mikey company in the kitchen, taste-testing everything that gets pushed his way (handily supplementing all the meals he only picks at, Michelangelo is a genius for discovering that work-around). 

It’s when he’s asleep and the nightmares come knocking that they have to worry. If Raph had known he was in here taking a nap, he would have made sure Leo had company. He probably would have curled up around the slider himself, giving Leo’s highly strung subconscious a hand,  soothing him back to sleep before the bad dream could dig its hooks into him and yank him awake. 

But the sleepiness probably hit him in a sudden burst, the messy pile of pillows and stolen purple blanket too tempting to resist. He must have curled up to rest his eyes and drifted off. 

And he woke up alone, in the dark. The shape of someone much bigger than him looming above everything else. Raph knew better. He did. Of course a cornered animal was going to bite. 

“Fuck,” he breaths out, white hot pain shooting up his arm from where Leo had buried his teeth a moment ago. It hurt, but it had nothing on the way his heart was breaking. 

He’d seen Donnie lash out like this a few times before, overstimulated and fully ready to bite whoever was stupid enough to put their hands on him, but not since they were kids. Mikey used to handle all fits of temper by hiding in his shell and closing the little hinge to keep everyone else firmly out, grumbling ticked-off turtle noises until he was left alone. 

When Leo was little, on the other hand, he wanted attention when he was feeling bad—he wanted to be picked up and held and would cry and pout until he got his way. Whether he was feeling upset or angry or scared, the solution was always more or less the same.

There’s no recognition in his eyes now. Leo has never looked at Raph this way before, even when Raph was the Krang’s puppet, even when Raph had him dangling by a strangling grip on his throat—even then, Leo didn’t look at him like he was a stranger. 

He had to fight like this in the prison dimension, didn’t he? He had to tear survival out of that place piece by bloody piece.

Raph hates that he had to do that and loves him for it in equal measure. 

“It’s okay, Leo,” Raph murmurs. “You did just right, okay? You stayed alive. However you have to do that is okay. You got mixed up just now, but it’s not your fault. I shouldn’t have scared you. Raph’s so sorry.”

Leo is staring at him, eyes wide and glassy. All the gold in them is edged out to black, pupil swallowing iris whole. There’s blood on the corner of his mouth. He smacks his tongue, tasting it. Like the worst version of giving him ice cubes to hold or peppermint to smell, it grounds him, bringing him back to the present moment. 

Raph watches Leo realize where he is and what he’s doing, sitting on the floor in the corner of the room with blood in his mouth. 

“Raph?” he says, small and scared and sixteen years old. 

“It’s me, I’m here,” Raph says, too fast, “you’re safe, Leon.” 

Leo’s eyes drift lower. He clocks the teeth marks in Raph’s arm and starts to cry.

“Shit,” Raph says, scrambling forward frantically on hands and knees. “Shit, shit, shit, c’mere.” 

Leo spills willingly into his hug, like it’s ten years ago and he’s had his heart broken by an argument with his twin and nothing on earth could possibly console him but he was willing to let Raphie try. 

Except Raphie knew all the tricks. Raphie knew that tearful little turtles just needed to be squeezed tight and rumbled at and snuffled until they couldn’t help but giggle. 

It isn’t such an easy fix this time. Leo’s shoulders shake like he’ll never stop crying, his wet sticky face smearing salt and blood where he has it crammed in the crook of Raph’s neck. He clings as if he’s half-afraid something or someone is going to wrench him away. 

Not in this lifetime. Never again. 

“I’ve got you,” Raph tells him. Heart settling now that his little star is in his arms, safe and sound. They could come back from anything as long as they had this much. “Raph’s always got you. Don’t be scared. Don’t be sorry. We’re okay.” 

[demonslayedher]

Kimetsu no Yaiba merch and a chance to get nerdy with it? Don’t mind if I do.

Bath time!!

This set of a towel, badge to hang on a bag like one you might take to your local bathhouse, and Swordsmith Village onsen-inspired bath salt was originally sold at the traveling Gotouge gallery, but many of those items were put up for sale again recently at a handful of Shonen Jump stores. I highly enjoyed the very flamboyant bath bomb I got at an Ufotable gallery, so I decided to give it a shot. I like onsen too, and the one in the Swordsmith Village is supposed to be especially nice, right?

In order to be classified as such in the modern Reiwa era, naturally occurring onsen must be at least 25 degrees C when the water emerges from the earth and have a minimum concentration of 1 to 19 certain minerals (amounts per 1kg of water vary depending on the mineral). If they have enough dissolved mineral content to be an onsen but don’t have a particularly high concentration of any mineral, they are classified as simple, low-alkaline onsen. So like, still nice, but harder to brag about. Locals will brag anyway. However, if the water has a high enough concentration of a particular kind of mineral, then it will be classified into different categories. The locals will really brag about these ones and their many health and beauty benefits, and even though there have been studies of some sort, it’s safest to say “purported” benefits. If you want to get nerdy with it, start here.

So anyway, the manga didn’t get that detailed, but, Ufotable wrote this in about the Swordsmith Village onsen: “It can heal anything, like cuts, burns, hemorrhoids and bleeding piles, constipation, gout, broken heart, anything.”

However, this is a product from a manga gallery, and Ufotable did not necessarily influence the making of it. Going by this product (which I’ll bet Gotouge had no influence on the production of), here are some things we might suppose. This particular product is a mix of sodium sulfate, sodium chloride, sodium bicarbonate, sodium carbonate, and sodium thiosulfate. If you’re only bathing in it and not drinking it (and the package says not to drink it), then it purportedly would help with cuts, bruises, burns, skin ailments, dry skin, reducing inflammation, muscle pain, joint pain, sensitivity to the cold, depression, and the ever mysterious “women’s ailments.” If you were to drink clean onsen waters like these, it purportedly could also help with constipation, too.

Although it’s not enough to consider it something your body would absorb any benefit from, there is enough sulfur in this product to give it a fun(ky) smell. Enough of a sulfur smell to make your brain think, “yay, onsen,” without quite enough to think “ew, rotten eggs.” Now, this suggests that the onsen in the Swordsmith Village also has that mineral component, which would also purportedly make it good for treating acne and diabetes. This might also be one of the components that made it hard for Tanjirou to sniff out a secret training weapon.

So like, that covers a lot of the claims Ufotable wrote in. Maybe to cover that gout claim, it’s also carbonated or radioactive. Who knows.

There’s one more thing this product includes: artificial color! For the onsen nerd, there’s a lot more to categorizing onsen than just their mineral content. There’s also how slick or grainy the water feels, how clear or cloudy it is, and what color it appears! Although many are known for being crystal clear, there’s a range of tints, including dramatic ones like reddish-orange, aquamarine, and black. In this case, they merely recreated the effect for fun. With a base of red, yellow, and blue, the powder starts a nice rosy pink when it’s dry in the package, and then---HOLY YORIICHI WHAT IS THAT

That is soooooo not an appealing color, ohhhh my gooooshhhh

Although it all mostly mixes into a yellowish-brownish cloud, there are random bits of magenta or teal or even purple-ish-ness. The tiny specs that wound up on the edges of my bathtub made it look like they chose some strange way to page homage to Mitsuri, Muichiro, and Genya all at once.

Anyway, the color eventually settled to more of a muddy yellow and I got in. The sulfur scent was only enough to be pleasant, the texture was somewhat on the silky side but not dramatically so, and I was healed of all my wounds and ailments. Purportedly.

[scuttlingcrab]

The Wrong Kind of Spice

Summary: Manfred helps Emmrich prepare a romantic dinner for Rook at the Lighthouse. Things are going pretty good at first, until Manfred accidentally uses one of Lucanis’ very special spices. The kind of spices that are hidden away at the bottom of chests, meant for no one else but a skilled assassin to find and use.

Notes: Hide your knives, hide your spices, no one is safe when Manfred is around.

You can find it on AO3 too.

“Ah! No, no, Manfred. That’s not how you hold a knife. Must we go over this again?”  

Knives were pretty tricky for Manfred. He didn’t like how they slipped out of his hands whenever he picked them up from the non-pointy part, which apparently was very, very dangerous for anyone with skin on their bones.

Once he cut four of his fingers clean off while trying to chop an apple with a butcher's knife. Manfred chose that knife because it was big and blocky and he could see his reflection in it. Emmrich had searched for his longest finger all afternoon, which had somehow rolled underneath the stove in the Lighthouse.

Manfred was upset at first because he thought he’d need to get a new one. He really, really liked that middle finger. It had been a painter's finger, and Manfred knew almost everything about painting. It’s pretty colours, and how Emmrich’s face brightened like one of his fancy spells whenever Manfred showed him a new picture. But the day he cut off his fingers, Emmrich huffed and puffed the entire time until he found it, his nose doing the funny thing that made him look like a dragon.

Emmrich asked Lucanis to hide all the big knives after that. Sometimes, the assassin still lets Manfred see them if he asks politely, and especially if he’s absolutely sure Emmrich has gone to bed. It's their own little secret. 

Emmrich carefully took the knife away from Manfred, positioning it the correct way around. He stared at the pile of Manfred’s squashed tomatoes for a long time, rubbing the middle of his nose. 

“Again?” Manfred asked, reaching for another tomato. He could almost see the bottom of the basket now. When they had started, the different vegetables were stacked higher than Manfred and he had to stand on his tippy toes just to reach one.

“Perhaps, Manfred, it's best if I cut the rest of these? They may still be salvageable but I will have to rethink the salad. I’d hate for them to go to waste… especially after Neve’s valiant efforts to acquire them.”

Manfred rested his elbows on the table, leaning in as Emmrich sliced the tomatoes. Emmrich cut them so fast and so perfectly that the tomatoes soon turned into small, tiny squares. Manfred needed to get a good look, needed to get every detail so he could copy his master the next time he picked up a knife.

He got so close to the chopping board he could barely see the knife move at all anymore. That’s when Emmrich froze, looking down at him. His mouth was in a straight line, and he tilted his head back. This told Manfred two things: that he might be in trouble, or maybe he was about to get another lesson, so he better pay attention. 

”Manfred?” 

“Yes!”

”What's the most important rule when dealing with sharp objects?”

Manfred brought a hand to his chin, placing the other on his hip, pretending like he was Emmrich thinking long and hard when someone asked him a question about the Fade, or necromancy, or even about Rook.

“Sharp? Knife.” 

”That’s correct.”

”No running… No throwing. No… putting in mouth.”

Emmrich let out a long sigh, like he was releasing all the air from his chest. And Manfred suddenly found himself thinking about breathing, wondering why people needed to breathe in the first place. If they were surrounded by air all the time, then why did they have to keep putting it ‘in and out?’

Manfred tried to make the same sound he heard from Emmrich, of what he thought everyone at the Lighthouse sounded like when they breathed. His ribs started rubbing together in a weird way that made him tingle all over. 

“Manfred. Whatever are you doing?” 

Manfred’s sounds got crunchier, louder, his jaw rattling. 

“Practicing. Breathing.” 

“That’s quite enough. If I ever had the misfortune of hearing someone breathe like that, well, I’d send them straight to the infirmary. And administer their last rites while I was at it. Now, back to our aforementioned topic…”

“Knives!”

”Yes . It‘s imperative we keep our distance, Manfred.”

“Oh! Distance… Stay. Away.” 

“Precisely. It’s hazardous.” 

“Hazard. Danger. Emmrich hates.” 

“Indeed, to a certain degree, but it’s entirely for your own good. I shudder at the thought of any more damage happening to your form, Manfred, seeing as I’ve only just gotten you back.”

Emmrich moved his nicer chopped tomatoes to a separate bowl, then scooped up Manfred’s dripping ones. He carried them over to a small pot on top of the stove, dumping them inside. 

“And it’s ‘ I hate danger’, never ‘danger I hate.’ We are not speaking in riddles, Manfred. I will have to increase the number of our elocution lessons, it seems we’re not making as much progress as I hoped.”

“Class now?” 

Emmrich shook his head, instead giving Manfred a big wooden spoon. 

“We must make haste and finish cooking before Rook arrives. Now, could you kindly do me a favour and start mixing the soup?”

This was an easy task, it was just moving the spoon in circles, like the paint brushes he used before. Manfred tilted his head one way, and then the other, trying to decide where he would put the spoon first. 

“Let it simmer, just like I showed you. Vigorous stirring will only ruin the consistency. We don’t want to make another mess either...” Emmrich said this a bit quieter, but Manfred could still hear him, “And I can’t afford to change my garments a second time.”

“Slowly. Stir. Stir!” 

Manfred stared at the liquid, at the chunks of food that floated in the pot, until he saw bubbles forming, and then more and more appeared. 

“Simmer!” Manfred shouted, pointing the spoon towards it. 

Emmrich grinned from ear to ear as he looked at Manfred, nodding. He liked when his master smiled at him, at his books, and at Rook too. That’s how Manfred knew he was doing a great job, and that Emmrich was happy. And when Emmrich was happy, so was Manfred, even though he didn’t really understand what that meant either; just like breathing, people's emotions were confusing, but he knew it meant nice. It meant safe.

Manfred finally found the perfect spot to place the spoon, right in the middle of the soup and started stiring. 

“Brilliant work, Manfred. Now can I trust you with this as I finish assembling the other dishes?”

Manfred stopped and pointed his arm towards Emmrich, turning his hand into a big fist. He then stuck his thumb up really tall, like a gravestone. Rook had taught him that one, and some other fun hand gestures, but she told him those were ‘inappropriate’ to do around Emmrich. 

“What kind of…? Agh, I’m almost afraid to ask.” Emmrich shook his head and left him alone at the stove. 

Manfred focused long and hard, counting to 10 and then stirring. And then counting again, and stirring some more. He wanted to stick his finger in the liquid and put it in his mouth, like he’d seen Emmrich do once or twice before. But that would only get his fingers dirty, and it wouldn’t taste like anything. Plus, the food would fall right out of his chest and onto the floor. And Manfred did not want to spill even one more drop of this soup today. 

While Emmrich was busy preparing the other food dishes he made a new, buzzing noise, like he was singing, but without words. His master did this a lot lately, especially when he started spending all his free time with Rook; almost as much time as they spent together with their lessons and tasks. The buzzing reminded Manfred of those small toys he’d find around Emmrich’s study. Those box-shaped things that played all sorts of songs, but only if you twisted the handles round and round. Sometimes Emmrich would even play a song for Manfred before the day was over. 

“How is the stirring coming along, Manfred?” 

Emmrich came back to the stove, looking into the pot. 

“Yes, it looks nearly done. May I?” Manfred handed the spoon to Emmrich. He scooped up some of the soup, blowing on the liquid before he gave it a taste. 

“I wonder… maybe it could use a little… oh! Yes, Manfred! I’d like to try some of that new spice from Lucanis. Would you be able to fetch it for me?”

Manfred approached where the spices were normally kept in the dining hall, right by the fireplace, but he stopped. He needed Lucanis’ spices, not the normal spices. And Manfred had seen where Lucanis kept his very special spices, because it was also the same place he kept the knives. 

Manfred peeked over his shoulder, triple double checking Emmrich did not see him walking away. His master was too busy looking into the oven now, poking at some more food, to bother noticing him. 

He opened the door to Lucanis’ room like he was sneaking around the Lighthouse at night, or walking around the Memorial Gardens while Emmrich was talking to wisps or messing around with roses. Quietly and slowly. Very slowly.  

Lucanis was snoring, talking to himself in his sleep again. He slept way more than usual since becoming closer with Spite. Manfred didn’t have time to stop and listen though, so he walked right up to the wooden shelves. He went straight for the big chest that was hidden underneath all the other boxes and sacks. It was so big Manfred could fit inside it. He tried it once, and Lucanis said it could hold at least two more bodies if he ever needed it to. 

Manfred found the spices at the bottom of the chest, after moving through the knives he loved so much, and the other interesting shaped objects and papers that were hidden in there. Lucanis had a lot of spices, and Manfred was unsure which one Emmrich wanted, so he picked the jar that looked the most interesting. 

He returned to Emmrich as fast as he could and gave him the spice. 

“Ah, thank you, Manfred.”

Emmrich looked at the jar and turned it around in his hands, lifting one of his eyebrows in confusion.

“Turmeric? Is this what Lucanis was raving on about?”

“Orange! Like soup.” 

“Yes, nice observation, Manfred.” 

Emmrich opened the jar and measured a large amount of the spice he called turmeric, putting it into the pot. He stirred it a couple times, then gave it another taste. 

“Hmm, perhaps they do turmeric differently in Treviso? A slight variation… but I suppose this’ll do.”

Emmrich placed a lid on top of the pot and moved it off to the side. He then bent down, removing a pile of dishes from a crate. 

“Manfred, the dinner plates, please.”

Emmrich gave Manfred two big plates and he placed them towards the end of the dining table, where Rook and Emmrich usually ate together. When he was done, Emmrich gave him another set of plates, these ones were smaller and a different colour.

“And where do the salad plates go, Manfred?”

Manfred glanced at Emmrich for a moment, instantly remembering all the old lessons they had about properly setting the table. 

“On top! On top of big plates.”

Emmrich nodded and Manfred stacked the plates on top of each other. His master gave him more plates and bowls and glasses that he set down around the others in a circle. When Manfred was finished, Emmrich handed him all the forks and spoons and boring looking knives. He laid those out as he had been taught, bigger to smaller. The last step was laying down the napkins, which Emmrich had folded into something that looked like a bird.

“Hey Manfred!” A familiar voice called out to him, “I see you’ve been hard at work. Don’t tell me Emmrich is giving you a hard time again?” 

He turned around and found Rook standing at the entrance to the dining hall, waving at him. She was almost as tall as Emmrich, with pointy ears that sprouted from her cropped purple hair. For some reason, Manfred didn’t hear the doors open. Maybe it was because he was too focused on making sure everything was perfect, and that no fork or spoon or glass was crooked. Or else he would’ve greeted Rook with a big bow, maybe even another ‘high five.’

“Oh come now, Rook. You make it sound as if I’ve forced some sort of arduous labour upon Manfred. He is simply assisting. He does love being involved, even if he can’t partake in any of the fare.” 

“Rook! Table is ready!”

“Oh wow, super impressive, Manfred. Thank you!”

Emmrich stood beside Rook, with his hand on her lower back. He slanted towards her and they pressed their faces together in what Manfred had recently learned was a ‘kiss.’ His master then led Rook to the table, pulling out a chair for her. 

“Emmrich, I told you this didn’t need to be another fancy meal.”

“It’s no bother, really, dearest. Besides, it gave me an excellent excuse to dig out this old crockery from my residence in the Necropolis. It would’ve continued collecting dust otherwise.”

“The skull designs are a nice touch though, I’ll give you that.”

“I’m delighted you think so.”

Emmrich poured some wine into their glasses and took his seat at the table. His master never stopped looking at Rook, his eyes twinkling like stars and his lips growing bigger every minute Manfred stood there watching him. They held hands as they talked, playing with each other's fingers and laughing at jokes Manfred didn’t really think were funny at all.

Manfred wasn’t sure how much time passed before Emmrich turned to him and nodded. He knew what that meant, what he had to do next: it was go time, he would serve them food and refill their glasses whenever they got too close to being empty. Never keeping them waiting . Manfred brought over the bread first, the appetisers, and then the salad. After that he brought over the soup and the main dish. He was about to serve them the dessert, a fluffy cake Emmrich had spent all morning baking, when he heard Lucanis scream from his room.

“Who’s been – no! Where is it?” 

Lucanis burst into the kitchen, nearly tripping over his own feet. When his eyes found Manfred he rushed towards him, putting both hands on his shoulders. 

“Manfred! Did you take the po–”

Emmrich opened his mouth as if he was about to ask Lucanis a question, just as Rook unexpectedly fell out of her chair and onto the floor with a loud THONK.  

“Rook! Are you alright?”

Emmrich jumped from his chair, but before he could even reach her he stumbled backwards, holding onto the table to balance himself. His face was scrunched up, like he had just dropped a book on his big toe. 

“Spice!” Manfred pointed to the jar near the stove. “Borrowed!”

Lucanis’ head slowly moved to where Manfred pointed, his eyes getting wider as they stared at the jar. He practically flew towards the stove, picking it up.

“My word… my head. What’s… what’s the meaning…?” 

“Please don’t tell me you used this ?”

Emmrich looked up at Lucanis, his face covered in sweat. 

“The turmeric? Of-of course, I only put a s-smidge into the soup.”

There was a long pause. So long, Manfred was about to ask Emmrich and Lucanis if they wanted some of the cake he was still holding or if he should maybe put it away.

“Mierda.”

“Why do you look…”

Emmrich’s face turned white, whiter than Manfred’s own body or any skeleton he had ever seen walking around in the Necropolis. His mouth fell open and his eyebrows crawled to the top of his forehead. 

“Ah. Th-That’s not turmeric, is it?”

Lucanis shook his head.

“No! Special spice!” Manfred shouted, just in case they were still confused. 

“Curiosity. Killed!” 

“Spite. No.” Lucanis immediately cut in.  

Emmrich fell to his knees, reaching for Rook. “Darling… C-can you hear me?” He put his hand on her neck, searching for something and sighed with relief when he found it. “She’s still breathing.”

Manfred wasn’t sure why Emmrich was getting so upset. He had seen Rook fall a few times when she drank too much of the wine, and they had gone through almost two bottles of it already tonight. Manfred knew why the assassin was mad though, because he took something from him without asking permission. 

“Lucanis, may I-I suggest you mark your spices accordingly?”

“How could I call myself an assassin if I left my poisons so obviously labeled?”

“You didn’t think for a second one of us might've accidentally used it?”

“Of course not! None of you know how to cook.”

“What impudence! I’d like you to kn-know I am a perfectly f-fine cook.”

“Spices. Too hot?” Manfred cut in, putting down the cake. He poured some water into a glass, handing it to Emmrich. 

“Manfred… oh my dear, Manfred. T-thank you. Pl-please put it on the table there. This is not… you could never have known...I mu-!”

Emmrich squeezed his eyes shut, still on his knees as he swayed back and forth. He placed one trembling hand on his head, his chest moving faster and faster. His breathing was starting to sound a lot like Manfred’s. 

“I’ve doomed us all.” Emmrich whispered. 

“Curiosity has hands. Hands that kill. Kill!”

Lucanis sprinted back to his room and returned in a matter of seconds, holding a small vial. 

“Here, I have an antidote, but I must warn you… it’s quite potent.”

“Rook… first, I insist.” Emmrich gasped. 

Lucanis knelt by Rook, tilting her head slightly and pouring a few drops of the antidote into her mouth. She still didn’t move, but both Emmrich and Lucanis seemed to relax when she swallowed it; the assassin loosening his shoulders and his master falling onto his backside.

“Now you, drink.”

Lucanis quickly handed the vial to Emmrich. He grabbed it with both hands and finished it in one big gulp. He instantly started coughing, shivering even, throwing the vial away from him. 

“Positively ghastly.”  

“I’ve never actually tried it myself. I don’t usually hand out antidotes to poisoned victims. I’ll make sure the next one is more to your liking, when you inevitably get yourself poisoned again.”

“Very amusing, Lucanis.”

Emmrich held onto the table as he tried to pull himself up. He staggered dramatically as Lucanis caught him. His master leaned on the assassin for support as he walked him towards the doors.

“How about we take you back to your room, yes?”

Emmrich’s movements were a little stiff now, almost like that one time when Manfred skipped a ‘joint rotation day’ on purpose. He wanted to see what would happen and could barely bend his knees or move his arms. It was like he turned into a statue, which was fun, but he wasn’t going to do that again any time soon. Especially since Emmrich lectured him for hours on the importance of ‘routine and structure.’

“Yes, a-an excellent idea… but wait! What about Rook? She-I cannot leave h-her…I must… if anything were to happen, I wo…”

Emmrich pushed against Lucanis, trying to turn around but Lucanis held him in place.

“Manfred will watch over Rook until I’m back. Isn’t that right, Manfred?”

“Yes! Watch. Rook safe.” 

“Thank you, Manfred.” Lucanis and Emmrich seemed to say together as they promptly walked through the doors, leaving Manfred alone with Rook.

Manfred sat on the floor next to Rook and rested his head against her body. He could hear her heartbeat thumping slowly and his head rose and fell along with each of her small breaths. He’d watch over Rook just like Emmrich did, that way his master didn’t have to worry. And he’d make sure no one woke her. As Emmrich said, it was ‘imperative to get a good night’s rest if one was to face the next day with success.’

As Manfred listened to Rook’s heartbeat, he wondered about the spices. When Lucanis got back he’d ask him about the others in his chest, and if that’s what usually happened when people put them in their soup.

[iz-belljolie]

puppy art who gets so horny when you’re not around that he humps the bed

Inappropriate content below so read at your own risk!!

well yes. Like I can just imagine you having a class at like 6 p.m that goes until 8, and he’s just waiting for you in your dorm. He reads, does homework, texts Patrick for a bit, anything to distract himself from being alone with his thoughts. Then he’s looking around your room. Roaming through your desk, glancing at all the pictures on your walls. Then he goes to your closet, he thinks it would be silly to see how many of his sweaters and shirts you’ve collected throughout the year and confront you about it. But when he opens the closet door and sees your underwear and bra drawer open, his mouth goes dry and his breathing grows heavy. His mind fills with images of you and your beautiful tits spilling from your lacy bra.

He picks up one of your bras from Victoria secret and feels the fabric with his pointer finger and thumb. He sighs and puts it back.

Then be picks up a pair of your panties. It’s just a simple pair of underwear, black with a tiny white bow on the front of the waistband. He could feel the blood rushing down to his cock as the swirly feeing of arousal filled his lower belly. He brought the underwear up to his cheek and took in a deep breath as he felt the smooth fabric against his skin. He then brought it to his nose and inhaled deeply before groaning. Obviously this pair was clean and smelled like laundry detergent, but of course anything slightly dirty like your undergarments, made Art horny as fuck. Without thinking he walked over to your bed and laid down on his stomach, the panties covering his nose and mouth as he started to grind against your covers. He panted softly against the silky fabric, his eyes shut and his eyebrows pinched together.

His shorts felt too tight and uncomfortable as his cock was fully hard now. He sat up quickly and took off his shirt and shorts, then he slowly dragged his boxers down his legs and threw them on the floor. He shifted onto his stomach and sighed happily when his cock rubbed against the bed. He brought the underwear to his nose hummed as his hips started to move and grind against the mattress. The feeling of pleasure consumed him. Soon, his grinding turned into rutting, he panted and moaned loudly as he humped your bed. As he got closer and closer his moans grew high pitched and whiny. As he felt the band in his lower belly tightening he shoved your panties into his mouth and breathed heavily against them, the fabric muffling his moans and whimpers. His hips and legs were moving quickly, eager to achieve more pleasure. Suddenly, the band in his belly snapped and his orgasm hit him with a wave of pleasure. He moaned loudly, his shaky legs continuing to move against the bed to get friction against his sensitive cock, hoping to prolong the pleasure. Ropes of his satin white cum stained your bed, but Art didn’t even notice, his brain too blank and dumb from pleasure to notice anything other than the pulsing he felt in his dick and the pleasure that overwhelmed his entire body. His lower body finally stopped moving. He lazily pulled your underwear from his mouth and he inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, his body relaxing. He cuddled up against your pillow, his eyes still shut, but the crease between his eyebrows was gone.

When you got back to your dorm after class, he was passed out, but the evidence of his actions were visible. You smiled to yourself, of course he would do this, he’s just a puppy with needs after all.

(Hope you guys like! Sorry if there’s any mistakes!)

[chiricat]

[photo added to the archives!] 🍡

[turtleblogatlast]

Every day I’m haunted by the fact the boys happily swim in sewer water

Even if it’s filtered somehow there’s no way it’s not still nasty 😭 Bet they can defeat any of their villains just by accidentally giving them diseases I swear

[fanfoolishness]

Just losing my mind at the implications that the companions have all been trying to help Rook grieve Varric, and Rook doesn’t know

Emmrich, wise and long-familiar with grief, being told by Neve and Harding what happened; understanding why sometimes he overhears Rook’s muffled voice in the Infirmary, talking to no one. He takes Rook to the Memorial Gardens and mentions he talks to his parents, thinking Rook might be comfortable with the same. Rook lights candles and rings bells but Emmrich watches, sorrowed, to see Rook still seems in deep denial.

Neve takes Rook to the Wall of Light; a Shadow Dragon Rook knows just what this means but any Rook can understand the solemnity, the power of remembrance. Neve reenergizes Brom’s light and looks to Rook, hoping Rook will mention wanting to make one for Varric. Rook is kind and comforting to Neve, but Neve is lost in wondering why Rook doesn’t take the chance to open up. She can’t figure it. Maybe Rook just can’t face it, not yet. Maybe Rook does something privately. She isn’t sure but it nags at her.

Davrin’s not big on talking about feelings. He’d rather just move on. But he sees the way Rook seems a little hollow sometimes, a little distant; he sees how Rook takes so quickly to Assan. “Hey Rook,” he says, and invites them to come with him and Assan to safe places in Arlathan, where the woods are clean and green and growing, where real sunlight dapples through the trees. Rook always seems to love these outings, seems lighter afterwards. But Davrin feels a little confused in that Rook never seems to realize the outings are mostly for them.

Taash is another person not big on feelings. But they know how much feelings can twist you up and mess with your head. When Lace tells them about Varric they feel badly for Rook, and think to how they feel when they’re struggling. Epic fights, dragon fights, drinks with the Lords. Taash is perfectly capable of doing all that on their own. But maybe bringing Rook along will help get them out of their head a little bit. Does it help? Taash isn’t sure.

Bellara’s double-versed in grief after what happens to Cyrian. Rook helped her through trying to reach him, and Bellara wonders, in her own pain, if she can help Rook a little bit too. Especially if Rook is elven, teaching Rook about the braziers and the challenges is another tool she can share about her or their people, another way that might help Rook with their grief. Neve’s told her that the Wall of Light didn’t seem to help Rook much, but maybe a different funeral tradition could help them instead. Rook helps her light the braziers and Bellara feels her heart lightening, though she wonders at Rook, who seems more moved by Bellara’s reactions than anything else.

Lucanis is nearly as allergic to dealing with feelings as Davrin is, but he immediately clocks how Neve and Harding are acting, and asks what happened before he joined them. They tell him about Varric and that they’re worried about Rook, that Rook seems to just be shoving those feelings down without dealing with them. Lucanis is no stranger to that, but while it’s fine for him, he doesn’t want to see someone who risked their life to save him share that struggle. He brings Rook to Caterina’s funeral planning to show Rook it’s okay to admit the loss and honor it. When that doesn’t seem to make a dent, he falls back to his standard - lavish meals, small gifts, coffee. He knows it would help him. He just wishes it helped Rook too.

Lace hurts the worst after losing Varric and Lace is where Solas’ magic comes the closest to faltering. Rook can see Lace is down, she’s quiet, she’s afraid after what happens with the gods escaping; but Solas’ magic holds and Rook can still never see quite why. Lace would love to sit over drinks one night and share stories about Varric, but she sees that Rook doesn’t seem ready, and she doesn’t want to push. Instead she writes letters to Ma, to the Inquisitor, to Cassandra, to Aveline, maybe even to Hawke. She writes out her stories with Varric’s old quill and she carries a bolt of Bianca with her. A dozen times she goes to talk to Rook about him, and when she tries Rook turns away or changes the subject. It hurts, but Lace knows she can’t make Rook talk about him, and she hopes in time it will get better.

This just absolutely crushes me the more I think about it 😭

Edit: Varric’s death is Rook’s personal companion quest every other single companion tries to help them with, and can’t 😭😭😭

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: implied noncon, break-up, toxic relationship, crazy ex-boyfriend, intrusive thoughts, anger issues

♡ FEM reader

Thinking about gamer boyfriend who doesn’t know what he has before it’s gone…

You told him you were leaving, but it didn’t dawn on him that’s what you’d meant. He was deep in-game—he couldn't pay attention to your whining. He figured you went out to the store or something, but later, after midnight, he realized he was hungry, and you were nowhere. Not in the kitchen making dinner, not in his bed sleeping, and not in the bathroom either. 

Did you go home? He wonders, standing alone in the dark, empty silence—feeling a little put off at the sight of his room—how even in the dim light, it’s a clear fucking mess. You usually tidy up a bit for him, but you hadn’t this time—no, there’s old underwear and socks everywhere, shirts and hoodies too, empty cans and pizza boxes. It’s a bit gross, actually, he admits while scratching his neck. 

The drawer he’d dedicated to you in his dresser is open and empty. Did you take everything to get it cleaned? You are a bit of a neat freak—unlike him. Suppose that would be something you’d do. Weird of you not to take any of his laundry as well, though.

Oh, well. He shoots you a “gn bby” on his phone, then collapses on his bed and falls asleep—smiles a bit as he does so—it’s nice not having you here to tell him to undress and go shower first. Yeah, you can be such a nag sometimes.

He wakes up late in the day. You’re not there. Usually, you come over to wake him with some breakfast. He checks his phone—you didn’t reply last night. It isn't that weird—you were probably already asleep at that point. But why didn’t you answer when you woke up? There’s no way you’re still asleep, right? 

Fuck, he’s hungry.

“gm,” he sends—contemplates asking you what’s up but doesn’t. You must be busy with something not to have checked your phone yet.

The entire day goes by, and you still don’t answer. He doesn’t take it too hard. But he won’t deny being a bit miffed.

It’s when three days go by that he’s well and truly confused. He’s sent you several texts at this point, even called you a few times, getting a little worried something had happened to you before he got the message that he’d been blocked. 

What the fuck’s going on with you?

He thinks back to the last time he saw you. What did you even say? He can’t remember. Something about being tired—something, something—I’m leaving.

He swallows thickly. No… No way, that’s what you meant, right? No, can’t be. You love him. You’re his pretty girlfriend. The one that comes with his food and later comes back for his bowl. The one that sucks his dick under his desk as he goes on a kill streak. The warm pillow he uses when he finally drags his bad posture to the bed and falls asleep.

No. Where the fuck are you? Are you sick or something? Yeah, must be, right? So delirious you’ve managed to block him somehow. You were probably only trying to call him back. You were never so tech-savvy—a fever must have worsened it. He should go to you. He can bring his pc. Or no, he can get you and bring you back here. Yeah, that would be easier.

He calls your roommate, tells her he’s coming, and asks her to let you know to get ready.

“What are you talking about?” she says through a piece of gum—her voice all dull as if bothered to have picked up the phone. Or, rather, she sounds a bit drunk. There’s music in the background. “Girl broke up with you, didn’t she?”

His blood runs cold at that. A lump forms in his throat—a thick, unmovable lump that makes him think he’s about to throw up. “N-no, she didn’t.”

“Hey!” she calls out, not to him, though—she’s covered the mic with her hand. He only hears the muted distortion of voices and bass through it before your roommate comes back to him. 

“Sorry—she’s telling me a different story,” she relays, popping her gum in his ear before sneering—or, at least, that’s what he pictures. “Honestly, how long did you think she was gonna put up with cleaning up after you anyway? I know I wouldn’t last half as long as she has.” The lump in his throat grows thicker, swelling up until it's choking him. “Anyway, good luck.”

She hangs up, and he drops his phone. There’s a crack as it hits the floor. And then something wet on his face. Something hot. Something searing as it tracks down his cheeks and drops off like acid onto the floor. 

What should he do? What do you want him to do? To tidy up? He can do that! He’s not some imbecile like your friend makes him out to be who can’t even do the basics of chores. Of course, he can! And so that’s what he does—hands shaking as he tidies. 

It feels foreign, and he’s not even sure where to start. And it quickly proves to be a lot worse than what he’d thought. Beyond stinky clothes and dirty dishes, there’s trash, rotten food, sticky surfaces, and other things he can’t even put a name to. It’s gross, actually. Downright disgusting. How long’s it been like this?

Even after everything’s put in order, there’s a smell that lingers and no end to the dust he has to clean—cringing at the little insects that come crawling out of their hiding spots. Geez—has it really been this bad?

He falls asleep on the floor at some point—having completely forgotten to eat—then wakes up feeling awful the next day. The kitchen is barren, and so he orders take-out. Eats and then goes back to cleaning. There’s still a lot left.

It’s barely recognizable once he’s done. Nice and bright and tidy and clean. There’s a sum of a dozen large black trash bags in the hallway he needs to take out, but other than that, everything’s perfect—perfectly presentable to have you come over again.

Still, he gives it a couple of days. He knows you. You’re going to change your mind. You’re too sweet to be breaking up with him. Too nice. You wouldn’t just leave him, not like this. Yeah, you’re only trying to teach him a lesson—after a while, you’ll come back on your own. You’ll be ecstatic over what he’s done with the place—apologetic even as you tell him you were wrong about him—and then everything will go back to normal. Make-up sex and everything. 

But you don’t. No. You’re nowhere to be seen or found—even after a week’s passed. You’re still gone. And he’s starting to believe you might just be gone for real.

No. He sees what this is. You’re waiting for the grand gesture, aren’t you? He never knew you could be so petty—but it’s actually kind of cute. Fine then. He’ll play along—come crawling to you on his hands and knees with the best apology you’ve ever heard. And then you can end this whole thing.

And so he finds himself at your place, pressing the buzzer, not knowing if he’s catching you at home—if not, he’ll just try again tomorrow, and so on until he does. He hears someone at the other side of the door—they must be looking at him through the peephole. It takes a while before the locks click and open.

“Hey…”

It’s you. 

“Hi,” he smiles in return, happy to see you. He’s been so nervous, but somehow, your face and voice are enough to calm him down.

“What are you doing here?” you ask.

Oh, of course. You weren’t expecting him. Still, it feels weird of you not to gush happily over the surprise and rush him inside. It’s not every day he goes outside—you should be a little impressed.

But no, of course, you’re playing the part of fed-up girlfriend—acting hard-to-get. He’s got you—he’ll play his part, so don’t worry.

“I wanted to apologize,” he announces. “I haven’t been a good boyfriend—I see that now. But I’ll be better from now on, I promise—come over, and I’ll prove it to you.”

As far as apologies and promises go, he thinks that sounded pretty smooth—not too desperate, not too demanding. Pretty slick, if he can say so himself.

And so, why aren’t you smiling? He can understand being nervous—so is he—but why do you look guilty?

“That’s really nice. And… I’m really happy you’re looking better. But…” you start, and his gut’s already wrenching. “I think you need more time for yourself to just… enjoy what it’s like to be independent, you know?” 

No, he doesn’t know. What are you saying? And why are you holding onto the doorknob like that? Holding it steady as if you’re planning to shut it as soon as you can—why?

“Thanks for stopping by. It was nice seeing you—it really was. Take care of yourself, okay?”

It’s shutting—his plans—disappearing right before his face. He knows he isn’t owed a second shot, but this isn’t fair. You can’t be serious—are you?

“What? No, wait—” He stops you, weighing his own hand on the door, keeping it open. “Listen, I’m good now. I’ve pulled it together, you’ll see—I’ll come in, and we’ll talk about it.”

You resist, using both hands to almost push the door back on him. “I have company, so—”

“What’s up?” another voice announces himself—deep and presentful. He comes into view behind you—taller than you, taller than him—looking down his nose at him with a raised brow. “Who’s this?”

You look a bit panicked—no, embarrassed. “Oh, uhm—”

Why are you embarrassed? “Who’s that?” The bitterness in his voice surprises even himself—loaded with the same type of spite he seethes with when players use cheats to win.

“He’s an old friend, but he was just leaving,” you say, but you’re not speaking to him. No, you stroke a hand over the guy’s broad chest, looking up at him apologetically before turning back to him again, voice strict in a way he’s never heard, “Bye.”

“But—”

You shut the door. On him. In his face. 

His skin crawls—goosefleshed and chilled. Was that a date? No, right? You have a brother, don’t you? Yes, must be. No way you’re dating. There’s no way, right? It’s only been a week… no way you’ve moved on in only a week, right?

You looked really nice—wearing that sweet blouse with all the little bows and that cute little skirt you’d always wear out on dates. Damn, when was the last time the two of you went on a date? Must be months ago, if he can’t even remember. 

Come to think of it, the two of you would always have sex when you wore that skirt. Yeah, it’s your fuck-me-skirt. Are you going to fuck this guy too now? On the first date? Is it your first date? No, probably not—who has their first date at home? That’s more like a third or even fourth or fifth date, right? Were you dating him while the two of you were still together? Have you been cheating on him all this time? Laughing at him behind his back—talking shit with your bitch-roommate? About what a pathetic loser he is? About how he’s a slob who can’t take care of himself? How he needs you? Have you!?

He shouldn't be texting you all this from a random number. He knows that, but the full realization doesn’t dawn on him before it’s too late, and he’s sent you over a hundred messages, some small and others at such a length they take up more than what the screen allows. What the fuck’s he doing? He’d bought the new sim so that he could contact you in an emergency, not to spam you with accusations like some crazy ex. 

He starts deleting them—in some desperate wishful thinking, with the hope you wouldn’t see them, but then the dotted line starts beating, jumping in taunt. His eyes are wide as he stares at it, holding his breath. Ten seconds pass before it disappears—no message sent.

You blocked him again. And he can’t blame you.

And yet, he can’t let you go, either. 

He spends the first few weeks hauled up at home—his flat becoming as trashed as ever as he doomscrolls all your socials through a fake account. You’ve deleted all the pictures of him—even the ones of yourself when you’ve been with him. There’s no evidence the two of you were even dating.

How could you do this? How could you erase him like this?

He has questions, and he needs answers. You can’t just do this—the two of you haven’t even had the talk—he hasn’t even got to say his side yet!

He just wants to talk to you—why won’t you let him? He just wants you to hear him out. He deserves that much. But since you’re not giving him any option of contacting you, he’s had to resort to medieval methods—lurking outside your apartment like some creep, eyes peeled on your building’s entrance, waiting for you to show.

He’s there for hours, patiently—refusing to go home—thinking he’ll be there all night if he has to.

But then there you are—coming out of the complex, stepping down the alley, dressed all nice for the night. You seem to be in a hurry—are you on your way to another date? Well, wherever you’re going and whoever you’re meeting, they can wait.

“I need to talk—” he doesn’t get the words out.

You’d noticed him following you and tried to out-pace him—make him lose interest. But the area your flat’s situated in is a sketchy one—at least for girls, and you’d made the decision long ago that you’d never walk outside unprepared. And so, as soon as feeling the stranger's hand on your arm, you whip around to maze him right in the face.

“Argh!” he screeches and stumbles back, hands covering his eyes. “Fuck—ow-fuckin’dammit, shit—what the fuck did you do that for? Fuck—”

You were going to make a run for it, but the familiar voice has you halt—wait a minute…

You call his name, and sure enough, it’s him who looks up at you through the teary redness of your pepper spray assault. 

“Oh my god, shit—I’m so sorry—I thought you were a—” you stop yourself. “Fuck—never mind. Come—” You link his arm with yours and lead him back inside the apartment you just left. “I’ll help you rinse—I’m so sorry.”

You rush him to the bathroom, seating him atop the toilet lid as you wet a cloth and start soaking his face.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t see it was you—” you apologize again. “Are your eyes okay?”

“Not really,” he hisses through clenched teeth, though steals himself soon after. “But they're getting better…”

His face unswells after a good thirty minutes, after which he’s able to keep his eyes open again—sore and no doubt bloodshot, yet fine, if not for that. You’ve moved him into the living room instead, having done what you could to rinse off your attack—having provided him with an apologetic glass of water. Now sitting with him, waiting for the effects to wear off.

It feels nice to be with you again despite the circumstances—but it’s awkward how you don’t speak.

“You look nice,” he says—trying to break the tension. It’s not as if the two of you are strangers, and so you shouldn’t act like it.

“Oh, I’m going to a party—roomie’s already there, so…” you say, sitting at the edge of your seat. “If you’re okay, I should probably head out… soon.”

A silence fills his head, as well as the room—a heavy stillness before a single word leaves him. “What?” His face sinks—part confusion, part offense, and something else—something that makes his voice come out accusatory and outraged, “You maze me in the face, and you’re just gonna fuck off to a party?”

Your eyes widen.“Well… it’s—”

“No—what the fuck?” He stands abruptly. His head’s so empty except for the blinding darkness slowly overtaking it—leaving him feeling boiling and all but nuclear. “That’s all I get? Are you fucking serious?” He’s shouting now—and then he’s on you, with one hand fisting your pretty dress and another around your throat. “First, you dump me without warning, assault me like some maniac, give me a lousy apology, and then tell me to fuck off? What the fuck’s wrong with you?”

You splutter his name and push, but it’s like fighting a wall.

“Where are you actually going dressed like that, huh? What’s so fucking important? Is it another date? What, with that same oaf I saw here last time? Or is it someone new already? I know how flighty you can be. I mean, fuck, I knew you were a little freaky, but I didn’t know I was dating a fucking slut!”

His strength comes as a complete and utter devastating shock. You’d think sitting in a chair all day would make any muscle obsolete—but the hands holding you don’t right now is more than anything you could hope to fight against.

“Stop! Get off me—” you cry, thrashing hopelessly as he lifts your dress and rips your lace panty down your thighs. 

A growl in his voice and nothing but rage on his face.

“If anyone can get it—I might as well help myself.”

♡ INSPO

♡ BNHA – Shigaraki, Dabi, Denki, Kirishima ♡ BLLK – Nagi

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[tonycries]

Like A Fever

Synopsis. What was sweeter - you or the aphrodísiacs that they just so happened to take? Well, only one way to find out.

Pairings. Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, unprotected, bréeding, aphrodísiacs, cúmplay, needy desperate boys, oral (male + female receiving), spitting, overstimming, Geto is kinda mean, voyeurísm (Choso’s), semi-public (Nanami’s), some HEINOUS things, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 4.6k

A/N. Gojo’s came out accidentally a bit fluffy whoopsies.

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Like candy

“Ya better clean your act up, doll.” he chuckles darkly in your ear, lips dragging down your neck. “S’bad manners, y’know?”

Telling you to clean your act up when he was the one making such a mess of you? Oh you could just smack him for that little comment - well, if he didn’t have you folded in half and split apart on his throbbing cock, that is. 

And maybe he senses it - you wouldn’t be surprised. Because Toji’s giving a playful bite to your bottom lip, humming into your open mouth, “What? Got something to say to me?” As if to support his point, he pulls out - just enough that his cum dribbles down your shaky legs. “Had me eat that damn chocolate n’ now you’re giving me attitude?”

Only a souvenir from the way he’d gone so feral with just one bite, filling you up over and over until you were left wondering whether it was more the aphrodisiac or that Toji just liked seeing your poor pussy so overfilled and bloated.

“N-no.” you manage to get out.  

“Good. Because I’m not done yet.”

It’s all that’s said before he’s pulling out. Completely. 

A disappointed little whine leaves your lips before you even realize what’s happening. And you’re left clenching so greedily around nothing, thick globs of cum landing in a pool on the drenched sheets below. 

“No- come back-.” If you were in any better state of mind you’d almost be embarrassed about how pathetically you were begging for something- anything. Just anything but for Toji to pull away, kissing down your body until he was face-to-face with your dripping cunt. 

But did he listen? Of course not. Because it you were such a fucking vision down there, it was almost hard to look - your pretty pussy all painted white with his cum, seeping into your skin. 

And Toji’s so fucking hypnotized that he doesn’t even give you a warning before plunging nose-deep, unable to even think about bringing himself to be disgusted. No, the only thing on his mind was to bully his tongue through your swollen folds, dipping just into your sloppy entrance and ah-

He groans into your cunt as he tastes himself. Tastes you. 

Sweet. You were so fucking sweet. 

So pretty falling apart on his tongue as he laps up your juices like a man possessed. All your cute, broken little moans going straight to his aching dick. All that cum from before? It wouldn’t go to waste. 

“Shit.” you flinch as he hisses out little profanities into your sensitive pussy, “Y’taste so good, so mine.” Words slurred and unfocused, like the chocolate was getting to him - or maybe it was how pussydrunk he was now.

Toji is grinning, you can feel it on your throbbing clit as he wraps his lips around it - clearly having way too much fun with this. And shit you could almost cry from the overstimulation - walls fluttering sensitively around his relentless tongue. 

“C’mon, doll.” Toji’s grunting and smacking his lips against your own. “Give it t’me. Wan’ it all.”

And he was so fucking messy with it too - Toji always was, but right now it was like he couldn’t decide where to go next. Stretching you out, dipping inside your slutty hole, swirling his tongue against your ravaged clit over and over and- 

“Yes! Yes yes yes-” your body jerks violently. Shaking, bucking your hips into his touch so desperately. “Feels so fucking good- don’ stop-.” 

“So demanding.” he tuts mockingly around your dripping entrance, the vibrations sending white-hot jolts of electricity up your spine. But he’s becoming frenzied now, drinking in your cute little whimpers like he was addicted. It wasn’t enough - it never might be and fuck Toji wanted more. 

To taste it more. To have you like this - big fat tears dripping down your cheeks, pussy trying to suck up his hot tongue so needily, so hard that it was almost difficult to tonguefuck you into insanity. Half-lucidly, you wondered whether his jaw wasn’t tired, tongue cramping up. 

And honestly Toji could stay here on his knees for hours, just teasing you with his tongue - but no, there was something else more important.

“Shit- Toji, m’close m’-”

Without another word, he’s pulling away. Disappointment quickly turning into anticipation at the sheer sight of his face glossed so prettily with your juices, messy and dripping all the way down his chin. You gulp as Toji swipes his tongue across his lips, savoring every last drop of you. 

“You’re welcome, I cleaned up your act.” His fist wraps around his still-achingly hard cock, eyes locked on you like a predator cornering his prey, “Now s’time f’me to mess it all up again.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - Impatient!

“My love,” he whispers against your ear, barely audible above the bustling office party. One hand reaching down oh-so-covertly to cup your ass against that sinfully thin dress. “If I don’t fuck you right now, I think I might just fuckin’ lose it.”

Oh. 

Which is how you found yourself shoved against the wall of the nearest bathroom, the tile cool against your skin. Barely even fully inside before Nanami - desperate and already fumbling with his belt - is swiftly locking the door.

“K-Kento- ah-” you gasp, the words dying in your throat as he shoves your dress up. Bothering just enough to pull aside your panties before spitting on your poor pussy from behind. Once. Twice. Missing on purpose to let a steady stream of saliva and slick trail filthily down your quivering thighs. “People are gonna- hah- wonder…”

God, your head was spinning - Nanami was so fucking filthy right now, all sloppy desperation where he was usually suave kisses, playing you like a fine instrument during sex.

“Let them.” he groans against your ear. Smearing his spit all over your pussy, toying with you in a way that was so maddening. “I jus’ need you right- fuck, right now. Jus’ relax f’me, darling.”

You scoff, both as impatient and needy as you were confused. “Kento, you ngh- drag me out here and tell me to relax?” Clenching so desperately around nothing as he drags his swollen tip up and down your folds, sliding it so lewdly in-between. “Why don’t you just fuck me alre-”

Because the words are barely out of your mouth before he’s pushing in, inching inside just slow enough that he wouldn’t hurt his pretty girl.

“Oh! Shit- ah fuck fuck. S’too- ngh” you can barely form coherent sentences at just the stretch. 

“Big?” he’s huffing out a laugh as you keen at the stretch, as if your walls aren’t sucking him in so obscenely, hips bucking up mindlessly for more. “Y’can take it, I know- you can-”

Thrusting only in quick, shallow little jabs of his hips, like he was trying to stop some utterly depraved part of himself from fucking into your cute pussy until you were screaming his name. Not even wanting to give you time to adjust because shit he needed this- wanted this so bad-

Smack!

A hand comes down on the wall just inches away from your head, like a desperate attempt to collect himself. 

“Mmm- Kento.” you groan, drunk off the way he was filling you up so good. Full. So full - and he wasn’t even halfway in. wanting more. Veins pulsing against your walls in a dizzying thump! thump! thump! to which your sanity was slowly dancing away from you. 

“Y-yes?” 

You turn around to bat your lashes at him, “Just fuck me the way I know you want to.”

It’s like something snapped - maybe Nanami’s restraint, maybe his sanity, definitely you by the end of this. 

“Well then,” he hums, dangerously low. Looping two strong arms around your waist so you can’t escape. Tight, grip almost bruising. “What m’girl wants, she’s gonna-” Immediately reeling his hips back all the way till his weeping tip was just kissing your sloppy entrance. “-get.”

And God Nanami might be pussydrunk out of his mind, but whatever was left of that rational part of his mind had him shoving his fingers inside your mouth. Muffling the delicious little moan that rips from your throat as he finally bottoms out. 

Stretching you to insanity, heavy balls smacking your ass so hard you were sure it would leave marks.

“Y’know, thank fuck for Higuruma. Didn’t think you’d be taking it like such a little slut in the bathroom if he hadn’t slipped me that chocolate.” Not even giving you the time adjust before he was ramming his cock into you, whispering in your ear in such a mean little tone. “Better be thankful now, since m’going easy on you-”

A shiver runs down your spine - maybe at his words, maybe at the way he was fucking you liked he hated you. Not even letting you breathe with the way he had his hips smacking yours, tip kissing your cervix, fingers poised on your throbbing clit. 

Ready to break - to ruin you.

“-because we haven’t even gotten home, yet.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - "Shut up and cum."

“It’s probably not even that bad, right?”

Oh, you shouldn’t have said that - you really, really shouldn’t have said that. 

Because now, not only was Geto Suguru reeling from the after-effects of swallowing some damned lust curse - he was also going to make you bear the brunt of it. And the words have barely left your mouth before he’s pushing you onto the nearest flat surface - eyes dazed, hair untied, looking miles away as he all but rips off your shorts and drenched panties with it.

Whispering hotly against your ear, “You’re going to fucking regret that.”

That was over an hour ago. Probably, you were too far gone to keep track of the time at this point.

Because what you certainly didn’t expect was to still have Geto buried in your poor, abused cunt, ramming into you from behind like a fucking animal. So hard you were sure it left marks - your thighs on his, his balls on your ass, fingers on your hips. 

So debauched and merciless that all you can do is let out a pathetic little ah! ah! ah! each time his angry tip kisses your cervix. Words cracking as you manage to get out, “S-Sugu-”

“Shut up.”  Voice so jagged and hoarse that it takes you a second to realize that it’s your boyfriend. Hips only getting sloppier as he speeds up - his only response. 

You were getting fucked by your boyfriend - but it didn’t feel like your boyfriend. Just a madman out to ruin your ravaged pussy. He’s been teasing you this whole time - toying with your pretty pussy like his favorite fucktoy. Always stopping just when you were about to cum. Driving you mad so torturously slow.

“But Sugu~” you yelp, and he gives your ass a sharp smack. A warning - but you still plow on, hoping to speak some sense back into the man. “A-all I said was-”

“Didn’t I fucking tell you to shut up?” 

Honestly, Geto doesn’t even know why he’s mad - he loves you. He loves when you talk. He loves when you’re all needy for him. But it’s just that his cock was so hard it felt like he was about to fucking explode - and that there was no better cure for that than seeing you all breathless and crying to cum. 

Is he being a bully? Yeah. Does it make his balls squeeze so painfully hard watching you try and play with your pretty clit? Only for him to smack your hand away? Fuck yeah.

Which is why he can’t take his eyes off the heavenly sight of you spread so shamefully, sloppy and wet enough that you’re dripping all over him. Face scrunched into such an adorable pout while he massages your plushy walls, trying to milk something delicious..

So fucking pretty. It almost makes him wanna play nice.

“A-all ya gotta do- ngh-” you were milking him so good it was almost impossible for Geto to form coherent sentences. “-is shut up and take it. S’that so hard? Hah-”  Hips are erratic now, fucking any and every thought out of your mind. “Running your mouth for what? Just lemme take care of you, gorgeous.” 

It’s all you can do to not sob in desperation, hips grinding down traitorously on his cock in an attempt to meet his merciless cadence. You don’t even have to think about it - just some primal, pathetic part of yourself trying to get off. 

Surprisingly, Geto lets you - maybe he’s reached his limit, too. 

Because he’s letting you reach out an angle his hips, nails digging into his slutty waist. Just trying to fuck yourself deeper. Harder - the way you knew would have him hitting just the right spots that have you-

He’s stopped. 

“Now now, what did I say?” Geto’s tutting mockingly, lips curling into such a cruel little smile. And when he looks down at you, you don’t know whether it’s the aphrodisiac or that sadistic little part of himself taking over. Lips ghosting so gently over yours, “If you’re that impatient then make the both of us cum. Now. Or you’re not cumming at all.” Oh. He definitely hasn’t reached his limit - and you think he won’t stop until he’s broken yours.

♡ CHOSO KAMO - Not enough (never is)

“Please, baby.” Choso lets out a broken little grunt, milking his base tighter. Back arching off the bed each time his fist flies up and down his swollen cock, “C-can’t hah- cum without you.” 

God, fuck you and your secret “special chocolate” stash. 

Well, Choso wishes he could fuck you right now, because only one bite of that little pink chocolate that he’d found all the way in the back of the refrigerator and that’s all he could think about. 

So here he was - pants thrown across the room, boxers shoved down to his ankles. One hand wrapped around his cock, the other trying to muffle those pathetic moans leaving him each time he came at the thought of you. You, looking so unfairly pretty, flashing him that sultry smile before you left for work. You, how much better you’d look on your knees with that smile wrapped around his cock. Looking up at him with those beautiful, teary eyes as you choke around him - oh, how badly he just wants to steal you away from your workplace.

Trying so desperately to chase- which orgasm was it this time? He didn’t even know, doesn’t even think his fried brain could count right now. 

Ah, who gives a shit - Choso just can’t help himself, okay? It wasn’t enough. Never will be - he could cum at just the thought of you over and over again until he physically couldn’t anymore. 

“Shit.” Eyes rolling to the back of his head, Choso fights back a groan as he reaches a hand up to teasingly thumb under his slit. “Wan’ your ngh- sweet lips w-wrapped around me.” 

“Is that so, Cho?”

Your thighs squeeze together at the way Choso twitches so sensitively in his hands just at the sound of your voice. So red and so so angry, hard enough that you wondered whether it was painful. Eyeing everything from the way he was sprawled so pretty across your bed, a delicate flush spreading all over his body. Fist stalling - but still not stopping - at the sight of you. 

Your boyfriend manages to grit out, hips stuttering as he fucks his fist faster and faster, chest heaving, eyes locked on you. “Y-you’re early?”

“Mhm. Seems you’ve been busy?” you purr, walking ever-so-slowly into the heady room. Giving him a big, pouty look you knew he’d like. “Without me?”

And oh he lets out a broken moan of your name. Only getting sloppier - precum glistening all the way down his wrist, erratic with no rhythm like he was desperate to fuck something so delicious out. Something you really wanted to see. 

“Ngh- didn’t mean to, baby.” But he didn’t mean it, too focused on the way you were walking so agonizingly slowly towards him. “C-couldn’t stop mm- thinking of you.”

Ah, Choso was so pretty - delicate tears streaming down his face, cheeks flushed, hair undone. So overstimulated and needy that you just couldn’t not tease him. Just a little bit. 

“Guess you snuck into my secret stash, huh?” You get down on your knees between those thick, muscled thighs, running your hands up and down his milky skin. “What do we say then, Cho?”

He’s letting out a throaty moan of your name, balls squeezing so fucking painfully at the heavenly below him. What he’s wanted for so long.

So pathetically needy the way he inches his aching cock closer, precum dripping down your tongue, sliding all the way down your throat. Drip! Drip! Drip! So sweet and addictive - but still not giving into what he wanted so badly. “S-sorry-” 

“Louder.” 

“M’sorry- hngh- baby.”

“Then cum, f’me, Cho. All over m’face.”

And with that, Choso’s painting your pretty face white with him cum. Untouched. At the mere sight of you on your knees. So fucking messy with the way he was pumping out thick, hot cum. Rope after rope on your tongue - so hard and violent as if he hadn’t spent the last hour cumming all over his fist. 

Because shit nothing was better than seeing you suck him dry, swallowing every drop like you couldn’t get enough. Especially when you’re letting his seed drip all the way down your chin, looking up at him with delirious, cockdrunk eyes as you spit on his length. Once. Twice.

Palms smearing the saliva and cum along his throbbing length. Making him feel so fucking dirty as you give his pretty pink tip a chaste kiss. Swirling your tongue under the slit just the way he’d done before. 

Letting out a muffled little, “Started without me n’ I think you gotta pay the price, hm?”

Yeah, it’ll never be enough with you.

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - Easy girl

“Out.”

At first, everyone froze. 

It wasn’t unusual for the king of curses to rasp out a command, let alone tell everyone in his throne room to leave. But it was the way he said it - like he’d fucking snap anyone’s neck if they didn’t. And only one look at you - standing doe-eyed and uncertain at the doorway, thighs quivering ever-so-slightly - had everyone running out the room before Sukuna decided to wipe them out. Or worse. 

“Kuna…” you huff, shuffling to sit so prettily on his lap once you two were left alone. Nuzzling the crook of his neck, “Missed you.”

Ah, he loved you like this. 

You feel Sukuna’s muscled chest rumble with a laugh, pushing you to rest against his pecs as large hands come to rest on your ass. Squeezing and kneading with no care for any marks. “Is that all, brat?” He hums lazily, rocking your hips lazily right where his twitching cock was. “Cuz I can feel how wet that lil’ pussy is n’ I think she has something to tell me.”

And it was true - God, you were so needy and dripping all over Sukuna’s lap. Grinding your hips deliriously to meet his, not even realizing those broken little whimpers leaving your mouth. Shit, you were so far gone. And he knew that. 

“I-” you choke, feeling Sukuna’s cock swelling and hardening beneath your throbbing pussy. “...might’ve snuck into the kitchens. Uraume gave me some chocolate and I’ve been feeling so weird ever since.”

Oh, you were so cute. Big fat tears clinging to your lashes while you humped him like a bitch in heat - Sukuna just can’t stop himself from pulling aside your drenched panties. In awe at the way the flimsy fabric barely did anything to hide your pretty cunt, sticky and glistening so sloppily.

“That explains it.” 

Rip! 

And it’s all that’s said before Sukuna is just tearing your poor panties off, looping it around your neck to pull you closer with it. 

Losing his patience with each pathetic little whine spilling from your lips, the way he could feel your pulse around. So delicate and urgent. The way just one tight pull could have you gasping breathlessly.

“My pretty baby was needy, huh?” he chuckles, breath hot against your skin. Letting out a cruel laugh as he thumbs your swollen folds open, circling ÿour sopping hole, “Tell me.” Biting down your neck, “What do you want to do about it, brat?”

You bat your lashes up at him, fabric tightening around your neck. “Wan’ your cock, Kuna.”

Sukuna didn’t have to be asked twice - because what his cute lil’ human wants, she’ll get. And before you can even react, he’s shifting around his robe just enough for his cock to spring free. Already soaked with precum - or maybe that was your slick.

And shit it doesn’t take him even a second to stuff your tight cunt so full. Have you keening at the sheer stretch as he fucks you in shallow, mindless little grinds to squeeze himself inside your plushy walls. Desperate. 

Because Sukuna was big, so big that you never got used to that no matter how many times he played with your pretty pussy. Used to a few tears, a few lil’ whines of “S’too big, Kuna!”.

But, now, you were sucking him up so well. Milking his thick cock so well with no preparation, head thrown back and fucking yourself in mindless little bounces to meet his. Like the perfect little slut that Sukuna knew you were. 

Sukuna’s mouth drops into a soft little oh! at how quick he bottoms out - the fastest he ever has. You were taking him so good into your sloppy pussy. 

Shit, did you even know what you were doing? 

“F-fuck, maybe you should have those chocolates more often, huh?” Sukuna mutters with a strange sort of reverence. 

Of course, the only response he gets is an incoherent little babble of something - something that went straight to his heavy balls. Too busy with fucking yourself onto his thick cock, already buried so deep inside you, but still pushing relentlessly.

Hips stuttering and leaking your sweet, sweet so sloppily juices all over his thighs. So good but still not enough - still trying to take him deeper. Faster. Needing this more and more by the second. 

“C’mon now.” he muses, fucking his hips to meet your filthy cadence, grip tightening around your panties, a signal to answer. And you gasp - both for air and because you feel like you’re literally burning from the inside. 

“Ah- fuck fuck fuck I- wan’” Nails raking down his shoulder, messily kissing his lips. A desperate attempt to try and tell him what you really want - and he understands. Of course, he does. “Please.”

Which is probably why Sukuna’s laughing at your pathetic state. Too cockdrunk to speak, huh? Spreading your thighs even farther, so much so that it burned. Hands so bruisingly tight on your hips.  “Ya did well, brat.” he grins, “Now, let me be the one to take care of you.”

♡ GOJO SATORU - Won’t get out alive

“Sweetheart, fuck fuck fuck, please- M’gonna-” Gojo doesn’t even get to finish the sentence before he’s spilling all over you hand. Milking his aching cock as he keeps cumming and cumming so much that you wondered whether he’s okay - whether he’d make it out alive, even. 

“This is all because of your own stupidity.” you grumble, but still letting him fuck your first through his high - for the nth time today. Hands much smaller and softer than his - shit, was he glad he teleported to your apartment in the middle of class for this. 

And as Gojo blinks back his vision, heaving to regain his breath, his orgasm-addled brain finds it in himself to mutter out a pouty little, “S’not my fault.”

You’re so irritated by him and his stupidity that you pay no mind to the way he’s playing with the hem of your panties, fingers sliding so sneakily underneath. Huffing out a sulky, “I’m serious, Toru. If the elders find out then-”

“Then they can suck my dick.” your boyfriend cuts you off oh-so eloquently. Much more interested in just how sinfully drenched your panties were, all messy and sticking to your swollen folds. “But I’d rather this pretty pussy take care of me before that.”

That’s all that is said before Gojo’s immediately pressing his angry, leaking tip into your sloppy pussy, groaning when you clamp down on him so deliciously. God, he was so sensitive he could cum from just this. Hell, maybe he does, a creamy little ring of white forming at the base as he keeps pushing in. Inch by fucking inch.

And he doesn’t stop - can’t stop - until you’re all the way flush against those tufts of white at his toned pelvis. 

Gasping breathlessly at the hands all on your hips - your sensitive clit - your face - just everywhere because Gojo just can’t get enough of you. Especially when he’s so needy and desperate like this.

“Who let himself hah- g-get hit with a fucking aphrodisiac technique? On purpose?”

Your tone makes him flinch - and for his swollen cock to start twitching so dangerously exhaustedly inside you. So addictively that Gojo can’t even wait too long for you to adjust. Starting up quick, jagged thrusts into your snug pussy. Grinning quietly, “Whoopsies.”

“Ah! Hngh- Fuck. Y-you deserve to suffer the consequences alone, you dumbass.” you scold, tightening your legs around him. And you can do nothing but buck up deliriously as he speeds up his pace - thumbing your swollen clit, like a little apology.

“I know.” he hums into your skin, leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses down every inch of you he could reach. Gasping at the sheer overstimulation. It hurt so good. “Don’ deserve you.”

“That’s not what I-”

Gojo shuts you up with one, harsh thrust. One that knocks all the air out of your lungs and has you worrying whether he’s pushing his massive cock into your organs. You can only take it as his heavy balls smack your ass harder, throbbing cock massaging your gummy walls over and over and-

“Don’t deserve this heavenly pussy-” getting sloppier now, no rhyme or rhythm. Licking long, languid stripes up your neck. “Don’t deserve those cute lil’ moans, either. Or the way you put up with me.” 

Fingers getting frenzied on your clit now - the way they did when he was getting close. Moving in sloppy little patterns that were so eager to get you off. 

Broken little profanities leaving him every time his hips stutter inside of you. Too much to handle at this point that Gojo thinks he might just explode. 

And then finally, he’s pulling away. So fucking sensitive and overstimulated that tears cling to his long lashes, delicately flushed all the way from the tips of his ears down, down, down to where you couldn’t see. Lips so pretty and pink as they say, “But don’t you think for a second that m’gonna let you go, sweetheart.”

“Cum f’me, Toru.”

And Gojo’s so far-gone that he doesn’t realize when he is - pumping thick, hot ropes of cum into your poor pussy with a strangled groan of what sounds like your name. 

Filling you up to the brim like he’d just been waiting for permission. Too proud, too fucking embarrassed to show off this vulnerable little side of himself that was gasping and clawing breathlessly at you. Eyes screwing shut, head thrown back, holding on for some semblance of sanity as he cums harder than he has his entire life.

Babbling out barely-lucid moans of how he’s gonna “get payback for making him cum early” and “make you cum double next time”. 

Promises he well and fully intended to fulfill - if the way his cock was still twitching so ferally inside you was anything to go by. Hips fucking up deliriously - strained, like it hurt but he just had to. Like he couldn’t just not fuck your pretty lil’ pussy. Desperately starting up a pace that made you wonder - yeah, he was going to be the death of you.

A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.

[sugudolle]

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ CONTENT ⊹ 18+. ghostface x fem reader. any ghostface with a dick. stalking. knifeplay.

ghostface! mockingly tilting his masked head with his knife still in hand as he watches you in amusement, the pretty girl he’s been chasing, “unfortunately” get stuck under your plushie covered bed in a lewd position mid-chase wearing only your silky nightdress.

ghostface! studying the way your arched back and teasing wiggle of your ass gives him an almost too perfect view of the lacey panties that rest between your soft cheeks and cup your pussy—like you got caught on purpose just to show it off to him—already soaking the fabric with a cute wet spot all for him.

ghostface! easily cutting the sides of the pretty panties you put on just for him with two clean swipes. he roughly slides the fabric off, his whole gloved hand resting against your warm, sloppy cunt as presses his hard dick against the back of your thigh.

“silly girl. i know you watch scary movies because you wanna fuck the killers.”

ghostface! who makes your twisted fantasies come true and fucks you from behind while you’re still half stuck under your bed, his tone turning dark as he drawls on and on about how many times he’s watched you leave your bedroom curtains half closed at night on purpose, how he’s seen you hump your pillow until you’re a sweaty, filthy mess with your makeup running down your cheeks.

“you knew i was watching didn’t you? were you thinking about how much better it’d feel if it was my big cock in your tight little pussy? how nice and deep i’d fuck you?”

ghostface! who takes off his mask for the sole purpose of eating you out, grinning against your pussy knowing that you can’t see him and getting off on the fact that you don’t know who he is but his voice just sounds so familiar as he moans about how sweet you taste, how your pussy’s just so fucking good it’d be a shame to kill you—and how he’d literally kill for it.

ghostface! purring as he picks up the pace, completely drunk on your wet, perfect pussy, about how he’s the only one that gets to have you wrapped around his cock, how good you take it, how he’s the only one who has the privilege to taste you on his lips—how you’re now all his.

“think i’ll be keeping you around, pretty girl.”

[filmstarved]

i can fix him and fuck him.

18+ [logan x female!reader]

nobody can break through logan's walls with ease like you can. and he actually lets you, welcomes it even. he needs it to breathe and when he's ready to walk out of the gifted youngsters door, there you are again.

word count: 5,737

logan sulks. he’s so devoid of love and compassion that he sulks. he’s confused most days, too. unsure of who he is and what he even wants. the people who are somehow closest to him can’t even find their way past the fire breathing dragons that guard the drawbridge to his heart. (scott jokes that he doesn’t have a heart and that the adamantium replaced it and he’s fully pumping cold, hard metal).

logan is a man who answers to himself and doesn’t give people even the slightest chance to ask him a dumb fucking question because he’s not in the fucking mood. he’s never in the mood…unless you put him in one. usually a good one.

you earn a smile from logan as easy as the sun makes it seem to rise every morning and the moon to take its place at night. it leaves the team dumfounded. they believe if you weren’t here, logan would have left a long time ago. they’re right. logan used to search high and low for any excuse to leave. he never knew where he’d go, he’d just…go. but you didn’t dare let him out of your sight. not ever since the professor had brought you to what you call home a little over a year ago now.

deep down, he wanted reasons to stay. somewhere deep inside that metal frame…he wanted things to be right again. he’d find it tiring most days to carry around his grief and anger. but you gave him reasons to stay just one more day.

“so we’re working on that thing for charles together tomorrow right?” you asked on a wednesday, standing so cutely in the threshold of his door that it was almost annoying to him.

“so we’re catching that movie downtown with ororo and hank tomorrow right? it starts at 6!” you asked on a thursday.

“heeyyy, lo…do you possibly, maybe think you could sub for scott’s morning classes tomorrow? he has a dentist appointment…,” you shyly asked on a very late sunday night. (logan heard scott’s jokes about his heart so he made you ask. logan was the only one available.)

but behind his stoic stature and intimidating glare fixed on his face accompanied by knitted brows, he’d always say yes…to you. you were his reason for staying. he knew it but would never admit it. you knew it but played the oblivious part well. and the rest of the team would gossip about it when you two weren’t around. but as long as you were here, logan has nowhere else to be.

although as of late, you’ve been busy. much busier than usual. charles has you creating plans for a mission happening soon. when you’re not teaching mutant ethics 101 to freshmen, you’re hauled up in the lab or library; sometimes darting back and forth between the two multiple times a day leaving very little time to worry about logan.

tonight, you brought your work back to your dorm. as you cleaned up a rough draft of an exit strategy, rain began to tap lightly on the window. you had lit candles littered around the room as well as grouped on your table, a small desk lamp illuminated the surface further. as you reached up to stretch your aching back muscles, you were startled by the sound of a throat clearing.

your eyes shot to the sound at your door where logan stood, leaning against the frame; arms crossed and still like he had been glued to the spot. 

“hi lo,” you say. “y’scared me, heh.” you aren’t used to logan greeting you often, especially not this late. he’s over 150 years old, of course he’s grumpy and an early bird. you’re usually the one at his door with requests and invitations to social events he assumes can be nothing short of insufferable. he sighs, his stare dropping to burn holes in the ground. “logan, are you-“

“i think i’m gonna get out of here, bub.”

those words felt like an arrow hitting the bullseye in your chest and then another splitting the first one right through the center.

“wha-what do you mean?…you’re leaving?” you asked, confusion and frustration trembling in your voice.

“it’s too hard being here.”

with that, you stood up from your chair, beelining to him. “c’mere,” you say hushed, pulling on his leather clad arm, trying to unfold them and get him out of the door frame. he doesn’t budge and you pull “the look” that you know he can’t say no to. “come sit with me please, lo.”

he unfolds his arms which allows you to grab his hands to lead him to take a load off on your bed. your bare feet pat on the hardwood floor as you quickly go back to close the door.

you walked back over to him, assessing his body language. ever since he let you use your mutation to “read him” a few months ago, you told him you’d never do it again without his permission. one gaze into his eyes and a touch of his skin and you could feel everything wracking around in his head. anxiety, rage, hate but love, pain. it was hard to feel just for a moment and your heart cracked knowing he was riddled with those feelings constantly.

but right now you couldn’t help it, he was slouched on the edge of the bed, his head dropping to rest in his large hands, and apparently ready to walk right out of the door. your powers are amplified with a touch and even more when you can look into their eyes. from a distance, you could feel a sense of unease and something else… a pressure…built up in your stomach as you surveyed your friend. it didn’t feel bad though…it felt familiar. a good familiar. you stopped reading him and did your best to shrug off the aching stomach feeling and care for your disheveled logan.

he wasn’t emotional, like ever. he hid all that, only showing you what you wanted to see; what he believed you wished him to be — happy, whatever that was. but that couldn’t’ve been farther from the truth. sure, you want him to be happy but also just whatever he wanted to feel, you wouldn’t suppress it or try to change it to fit some ideal of who people on the outside want him to be. yes, he was one of the meanest motherfuckers you had ever met but he was your mean motherfucker. (whatever that means because nothing has ever really been clear between you two).

you walked closer to him, forcing yourself in his diabolical bubble. you stood between his legs, removing his hands from his face to wrap them around your waist. you scooped your hands under his scruffy chin, pulling up to get a look into his bloodshot eyes. oh, he’d been crying.

“lo…,” you muttered. “why were you crying, wolv?” you slide a thumb across his cheek where tears had stained the skin. “why do you want to leave?”

he pulled his face away, breaking his stare with you. he dropped his head forward to rest on your stomach, wrapping his arms around your legs so his hands rested on the back of your thighs. he began to slowly rub the exposed skin of them that your very short night shorts didn’t cover. he lifted the hem of your shirt slightly to press his hot face into the soft, cool skin underneath. he hummed into it, allowing you to feel the vibration.

“logan,” you softly moaned his name under your breath. his fingers press firmly, inching closer to the crease in the skin where your ass meets thigh.

“is this okay?” he asks lowly, when he looks up for confirmation to keep going, you’re already looking down at him nodding. “say it’s okay for me to touch you like this, bub.”

“yes, keep going, logan,” you said curtly. in your voice there is a hint of need. you hadn’t been touched like this since jean’s christmas party, tipsy off spiked egg nog in the garden with a guy whose mutation was a very wet, long tongue. flirting with him seemed intriguing in the moment, but five minutes later, it rendered itself utterly useless due to user error. the sexual tension between you and logan is so potent it usually clears out a room. aside from accidental brushes of hands and quick looks at each others lips mid conversation, neither one of you has acted on it.

his hums turn to growls and soft whimpers as your hands ran through and tugged his hair. your fingers found their way to his nape, splaying out to grip the hair there in your fist. he managed to place a single kiss on the skin right above the elastic of your shorts before you pulled his head back to scrutinize his face.

“you don’t have permission to read me,” he groaned. before you could ask how he even knew that’s what you were doing he said, “you get this serious, focused look in your eyes. i can feel you in my head.”

“logan, what are we doing?” you ask, releasing his hair and stepping out of his bubble. 

his hands drop from the absence of your thighs onto his lap and his sighs frustratingly. 

“what do you mean?” he asks, admiring your body in the dim light with a semi pressing on the denim of his jeans through his boxers.

“i’m…not doing this with you…if you’re just gonna disappear from my bed before the fuckin’ sun comes up. i’m not doing this,” you said, with your hands on your hips.

he pressed his hands into his knees to push himself up to tower over you. he took two big steps forward and stood in front of you. his hand raised up to brush the back of his fingers across your cheek to cup it and rub his thumb over the warm skin. 

he pressed his lips to yours, skillfully allowing his tongue access to it. you let him. “i give you permission,” he moaned in your mouth. “read me. feel how i feel about you…how i’ve always felt about you.”

he welcomed the hesitant slip of your hands past his jacket and under his shirt, shivering and chuckling “mm, cold” into your mouth. you rested your cool touch on his hips and with his mouth obsessed with yours, you read him. 

your head dizzied instantly and the hair on the back of your neck stood up. you had never felt anything as strong as this. you could almost taste the colors in logan’s head. your heart dropped to your stomach like you were on a rollercoaster, feeling sick from adrenaline in the best ways. and then, returned that good familiar feeling. this time buried even deeper in your stomach, moving it’s way lower…and lower until logan was swallowing the noises escaping you. before you literally passed out, you dropped your hands and took back ownership of your lips and tongue. breathing heavily, you moved away from him to collect yourself.

a beat of silence followed by a heavy sigh and a “well, say something” from logan passed and you opened your mouth to speak before shutting it again.

that…was the best thing you had ever felt. no drug could compare to the euphoria that a minute of kissing logan could bring. you could practically feel yourself lubricating and your upper thighs unconsciously squeezed together as you scrambled to find thoughts.

there were none. your mind already dumb and wanting more of him…more of the feeling. your fists planted firmly on both your hips as if you were grounding yourself to the floor to avoid buckling. you eyed the ground, looked back up at him and forwarded with another heated, taking-in-each-others-breath kiss. your hands found their way to the same place gripping the hair on his nape to which he praised the tug with a moan. he supported your balance as your whines got more whiney and needy and your hands held onto him like life support.

“lay down,” he said into your kiss. it wasn’t really a command, more of a warning because he tossed you on the bed like unfolded laundry.

he stood over you as you collected yourself, darting your tongue out to taste the spit he left behind. you propped yourself up on your elbows to get a look at the man casting a shadow over you. without the sounds of pleasure exclaiming in each others mouths, your ears absorbed the comforting sound of the battering rain. a tree branch smacked the window as thunder rumbled outside.

logan took a moment to admire your presence. starting at the top, he gazed upon your hair that he associates with vanilla and roses and the times he’d touch himself wondering how it’d feel being wrapped around his hand and pulled.

as he removed his leather jacket, he took his time mentally undressing you. feeling even more pressure build in your clit, you bore your hips down into the mattress, rolling them in circles to stimulate the swollen nub. he beheld your tits, flicking his tongue over his bottom lip at the sight of your hard buds under your very thin, white tank top. he threw his heavy jacket to the side, letting it thud in a ball on the ground.

“you look so beautiful, sweetheart,” he said, deeply enthralled by your scantily clad figure laid out in front of him. unable to stop staring, you could see the bulge in his pants get larger and it ridiculously turned you on. with you making eye contact with the crotch of his jeans, he effortlessly unfastened his belt buckle. the metallic buckle clanked to the floor as his jeans and boxers pooled around his ankles. 

he stroked himself while he looked upon you. it was like you could read his mind, because you began to touch yourself. the twitch of his lips and darkening of his eyes validated your teasing. letting yourself drop back on the bed, you caressed your body for him. one hand occupied by cupping your tit and pinching and twisting your nipple while the other is exploring the wet spot left on your panties. not being able to handle eye-fucking you any longer, he dropped to his knees on the edge of the bed between your legs. logan hooked his arms under your knees, pulling you close which in your intoxicatingly lustful brain you found funny, so you laughed.

logan spread your thighs open so he could fit in between them to leave wet, sloppy kisses all over your skin. he nibbled here and there, earning soft hisses and hums from your parted lips.

kiss kiss nibble hiss mmm kiss hum nibble nibble bite kiss suck

he spent about a minute just doing that, leaving warm welts in his mouths wake. “i need these off of you, princess.” once he had kissed his way up to the elastic of your shorts, he snapped it. you nodded and he did the honor of pulling them down and flinging them across the room like he was opening presents on christmas morning. 

he let out an amused scoff as he ran his trembling hand down his face, caught between ecstatic disbelief at the sight of your black lace panties with little black bows adorning the seams. you mentally thanked your past self for slacking on doing laundry and only having your “special occasion” panties left to wear.

“d’you know how pretty you are,” he said. his eyes traced over every inch of you in excitement like you were artwork he stole from the louvre and made out like a bandit with.

his hand disappeared to slickly stroke himself, his mouth watering in anticipation for your taste. his chest heaves as he takes in the sight of you, studying every curve prettily laid out before him; thinking about every position he wants to see you in and every way he wants to please you. without another groan inducing thought, he lunged forward to press a kiss to your lips, his tongue demanding attention. you drink his breath like liquor becoming completely intoxicated by him. he needed this, he needed you.

“need…to taste…you,” he breathed in between kisses. with this mouth obsessed with yours, his hands caress your tits, his thumbing circles on one of the nubs while he’s pinching and pulling on the other. your head falls back and your neck rolls at the sensation, earning profanities from your pretty, swollen lips. your tit misses the hand that he proceeds to run down and up your thigh to locate the spot in your panties you were playing with a moment before. as he parts from your kiss, he’s hooked two fingers under the elastic, pulling those off swiftly.

you yelp when he pushes your torso down. you stare up at the decorative ceiling as he savors you, kissing and massaging your thick thighs. he’s enjoying playing with you as much as possible before allowing himself any pleasure. he wants your juice to cover his face…his neck…his arm…the bed…the floor too when he gets you to pop like a water balloon.

“logan…please, please,” you beg, pawing at his hair. you lift your head to watch the man between your legs taking in the sight and smell of your pretty, wet pussy. even in the dim light, he could see how much you ached for him. he not so secretly got entertainment from watching you lightly buck your hips up to his face and he would’ve let it continue but your pheromones became overwhelming for him; engulfing his head in it’s enchanting aroma.

like fresh pie on a windowsill, he was drawn into you. logan opened wide to swipe one flat tongued lick up your slit. he had one goal — to knock all sense out of you, to fully engulf you in pleasure. he wants you dumb and begging for him to stay right where he is — at the mansion and also all over you. 

logan audibly sucked and popped your clit in and out of his mouth, teasing the most sensitive bit. he’d suck and pop and then lick up your slick, repeating the act. one of his big hands reached up to cup your tit, pinching and twisting and circling. from his hair to the tit he wasn’t playing with, you clawed at whatever would ground you. being eaten by logan felt like floating above the stratosphere.

your wet soaked his beard and it only made him more horny, his cock dripping and throbbing in his fist. tasting you, inhaling you, winning pretty sounds from you, knowing he’s the one making you buck up and fuck his nose only made his appetite for you insatiable. he let go of himself to push his pointer and middle fingers into your needing pussy. you hissed and cursed. the thrill of him devouring you began to reach its peak. his fingers pumped relentlessly into you, curling them to stimulate your g-spot. moans, curses, the gushing of your wet cunt, his sucking and popping and vibrating moans mixed with the rain and thunder grumbling outside filled the dorm like mozart’s symphony no. 25.

he wanted to kiss you, so he did. with his fingers still coaxing an orgasm out of you, he shared the sweet taste. he got back on the bed with you, sliding his free hand under your back to push you up to further to see the mess you were making on the sheets.

“look at how good you’re taking my fingers,” he groaned, inching closer to your ear so you could hear his dirty language loud and clear. “you can come for me, baby.” he peppered a few kisses to your forehead, removing his hand from behind you so he could press it into your stomach. this only heightened the overwhelming wash of pleasure coursing through you.

“lo…logan, i’m-“

“fuck my fingers, baby. use them…oh that’s it…that’s it…i feel that clenching, c’mon you can do it for me. go big baby, make me happy.” his dirty mouth and sporadic clit circling and pumping in and out of you with his tireless wrist pushed you over the edge. you cowered into his neck, pulling on his white tank top and biting the salty skin below his ear as your pussy obeyed, erupting with your juices. out of breath and fucking dumb already, you could feel the wet soak the sheets under your ass.

logan pulled his fingers out of you, landing a light smack on your pussy before licking you clean off of his digits. you fell back on the bed, your arms above your head as you heaved and saw stars.

“‘m not done with you, princess.” he slid off the bed, still delighted by your taste and engulfed in your aroma.

“fuuuck,” you groaned. the pulsing lightning feeling spread throughout both legs as an effect of your rocking orgasm. logan was wicked with his tongue, a devious magician with his fingers and you were his sole audience member wondering about his tricks for sleight of hand.

he quickly tossed his tank, that had tug marks from your attempt to ground yourself, to the side, his muscles flexing under his skin. as he let your post orgasm, cock-dumb brain fog clear, he spit in his hand to fuck his fist. his saliva mixed with the pre-cum leaking from the head, he groaned and sighed heavily at the feeling of giving his dick some sort of relief. you, needy for another hit of him, propped yourself up on your elbows to watch the most delectable creature pleasure himself.

just the sight of him illuminated by candles and flashes of lightning outside as he gets off to how fucked out and dumb you look was enough to have you open up again and play with yourself. the sensitivity from your swollen nub required a delicate touch but your pussy ached, clenching around nothing. his knitted brows relaxed, eyes darting from your pretty face, to your tits, to your fingers rubbing circles where his mouth resided moments ago back to look longingly into your eyes.

“you’re gonna stay,” you said. your hand reached your mouth, your tongue swiping a lick up your middle and ring fingers, wrapping your lips around them to coat them in your saliva. “tell me you’re going to stay for me,” you elaborated. your wet fingers found your aching center.

“there’s no where else i want to be,” he answered. he paced closer to the bed where you laid, his dick basically making eye contact with you as he stopped a few inches away. “you’re mine, you know that?” he noticed your hand slow, “keep going,” he commanded. logan reached out to cup your face, tilting his head to get a look at you obeying his every request. “your face…your mouth…,” his thumb swiped across your lips as he spoke. “your body…your cunt.” he leaned down to kiss your mouth, leaving a string of spit attached to your lower lip. “your laugh…your heart,” he said kindly, his hand massaging your scalp. moans earned from his praise escaped you. “you’re all mine. is that okay with you, baby?”

you’re so bewitched by his aura and his subtle touches make your heart race so fast that you can’t do anything but try to maintain his torrid eye contact and nod.

“use your words, honey.” his thumb returned to the softness of your parted lips.

“i’m yours, logan,” you said, taking his thumb in and closing your lips around it. “if you’ll stay with me, i’ll be yours forever,” you breathed around his thumb, speaking from a mix of eager lust and the terrifying need for him to not to be an asshole, just once.

“i’m not going anywhere…i promise,” he said matter of factly before leaning back down to hungrily devour your kiss. “i need to…fuck you…now,” he cursed in between swallowing moans. 

“do what you want…i’m yours,” you said just clearly audible over the storm rumbling outside. you two shared eye contact so intense that you noticed his dick twitch from your peripheral. you took his dick in your drooling mouth, reaching up to squeeze the base of him. it twitched from the warmth, pressure and tongue swiping rhythmically around his angry, red tip. you kept yourself enveloped around his length, bobbing your head to hit your gag reflex. the added lubrication drove him crazy, his abs twitching under the toned skin of his abdomen. you moaned around him purely from the enjoyment you got out of having him stretch the corners of your mouth, feeling the sting from it. 

logan reached down with both hands to hold your head steady while he sped up thrusting into your throat. your gags and gasps for air, his praise and the storm filled the room beautifully. 

“fuuuck, baby, keep that throat open for me please,” he begged. his hands left their position to find a new one — one supporting his thrusting hips, the other petting your head. “oh, you look so fuckin’ pretty with my cock down your throat…you’re taking me so good, sweetheart.”

he pulled his dick out of your mouth to smack it on your face, complimenting how gorgeous you look. he kissed and licked the mess off of your mouth.

“mm, baby i need to know how good you feel.” with that, he rounded the bed to lay down. “c’mere, baby.” you turned around, crawling on all fours to obey him. his cock in its usual place to be, in his fist, leaks pre-cum in anticipation for you to smother it with your warm, clenching pussy.

“lay down,” he said.

“damn, yes sir,” you say, jokingly annoyed with all of his demands. you lay down next to him, your knees instinctively parting slightly. he lays on his side, resting his hand on your stomach, rubbing his large hand in flat circles.

“d’you know how long i’ve thought about this moment with you?” he asked, leaning in to kiss and suck the skin in the crook of your neck. you lustfully sighed at the sensation of his hot breath. his hand finds its way between your legs again, tickling and tapping at your slit. “i want you to read me the whole time i’m inside…can you do that?”

“are you—“

“yes i’m sure, i feel so fucking good right now and i haven’t even felt you. i want you to feel that and more,” he explains, pulling your chin in to taste the desperation on you.

before he came just from your kiss and rutting against the sheets, he hovered above you. his lips stayed attached to your chest, kissing lower and lower to suck a tit into his mouth, flicking your nipple with his tongue then biting softly on the nub. his hand disappeared from the side of your head to grab hold of his shaft, flicking his tip against your clit. his head dropped as he watched and listened to your slick coating his cock. he quickly swiped up and down your pussy trying to savor every fold and feeling. his brows furrowed, not being able to resist your warmth, he lined himself up with your hole, using his hand to guide just the tip into it.

“oh…fuck,” he groaned in excitement. he pushed in just a little more which caused you to hiss. his head shot up and eyes scanned your face for any sign of regret or unsureness. “are you okay? d’you want to stop?”

“no, baby,” you giggled, lifting your arms rest around his neck, one hand always finding a way into his dark locks. “just been a while…keep going, i’m okay.”

with your permission, he pushed in a little more. he let out a deep groan at the feeling of you stretching to form perfectly around him. you gasped, pressing a hand into his chest, feeling a similar sting to the one you felt in the corners of your mouth earlier. against his want to start thrusting his whole length into you, his went slow, watching your demeanor for cues to keep going.

“you feel…fuck…like it was made for me,” he said which caused the butterflies in you to flutter their wings even faster. “are you okay?” his chest heaved and his breath fanned your face.

“fuck me…please logan,” you said. your hands reached his hips, pushing them down onto you. without wasting another minute, he did. 

he bent your knee more to press it into your chest as his hips repeatedly slammed down hard, his balls smacking your ass. with one hand giving him better access by positioning your leg higher, the other cupped and squeezed your bouncing tit.

“oh my…fucking god,” you moaned. you had let the walls of your mutation down, allowing yourself to be flooded by not only your pleasure…but the love logan feels for you plus the absolute sheer euphoria that he was experiencing deep inside of your pussy. it coursed through your body like a steam engine leaving the station. it had felt like you had been brought to five earth shattering orgasms before the one that was bound to shake you again soon.

“you know you feel so good, look at that fuckin’ fucked out smile. can you feel it? can you feel how good you make me feel, baby? don’t stop readin’ me, princess. it’s all for you,” he praised for you to hear every word.

“holy shit…mm fuckin’…ahh!” your hands couldn’t help but find their way above your head, subconsciously reaching for the bed post for something to ground you again.

“here, baby, hold onto me.” logan grabbed your wandering wrist with his free hand, slapping your hand on his chest which you pressed into as if you were pushing him away. before your cock drunk mind could register what happened, he had flipped the two of you so you were on top. 

logan looked so fucking pretty under you. you took a second to breathe and take in the view before bending your knees to put yourself in a squatting position on his cock. you placed your hands on his heaving chest for support as you started to bounce your ass on him. ‘oh this is so fun’, the thought making you giggle in elation as you drilled down your hips, rocking them back and forth to feel him stimulate the deepest parts of you. his thumb bored into your clit, drawing circles on it. 

as you kept bouncing your wet pussy on him just how he liked, logan lifted his knees up behind you and pushed you back onto them. he moved his hand away from your clit and picked his head up to watch his dick disappear deep inside you. then, he spit. his saliva landed on your pussy and stomach. he went back to stimulating you, fully realizing how much that turned you on from the tight clench around him and the extra juice running down his ass onto the sheets under you two.

he, still playing with your clit, summoned your face closer to his with the middle and ring fingers on the other hand. once closer, he grabbed your neck to kiss your fiercely. 

“you’re my good girl, huh?”

‘mhmm’ was all you could muster with his hand around your throat and his hips still ramming his cock into your stretched out hole.

“use those words for me, baby. are…mm, fuck…you my good girl?”

“ye…sss, baby i’m your…good…oh my fucking��girl!!”

“open your mouth.” he fucking spit in it. you moaned tasting him again and feeling it on your face. “good…fuckin’ girl,” he complimented, kissing you and then squeezing your cheeks to spit on your tongue again. 

your body started to go limp and your eyes were practically glued together. you could feel the searing hot orgasm burning up inside. you could feel logan in a way that you never thought possible. everything. 

his love, his passion, his longing, his fear, his anxiety, his lust, his heart…everything was yours in this moment. high on his feelings, you let your head fall back coming undone on top of him.

“oh you’re so pretty…that’s pretty, baby, keep…fuck…use me, it’s all for you.” his words took you further and further into ecstasy. it was a really good fucking trip that you never wanted to end. the pain of his cock fucking you out and his grip clutching your skin like he’d fall off earth without doing so made you moan so intensely that not even the thunder outside could compete.

he could tell you were a few fucks away from collapsing but so was he. 

“baby…you keep clenching around me like that…i’m gonna fuckin’ fill you,” he said. you kept bouncing on it, wanting him to even feel a fraction of how he just made you feel. he closed his eyes trying to last as long as possible in the heaven that he found in you. his thumbs bore into your hips as he used them to ground himself.

“i want it, baby…fill your good girl up.” you leaned down to speak into his ear and then carry on kissing his neck, letting him claim your moans as trophies. 

“fuuuuck…fuuuck,” he moaned as his thrusting became sloppy and you weren’t bouncing as much anymore. his abs twitched again along with his face. 

SNIKT!!

you hissed at the cool metal of his claws against your skin and the feel of him throbbing severely inside you as he let himself paint your walls. you thanked him in pleased moans before falling on his chest. still semi-hard inside, he kissed the top of your head to which you looked up and he gave you a proper kiss. he let himself twitch out a few more dribbles of cum inside you before pulling his claws back in to carefully rub your back.

a few beats of silence went by as you listened to each others hastened breaths and the rain tapping the glass. 

“…i love you, logan.”

“i think you know how much i love you, baby,” he said, smugly remembering how you looked coming on his dick, further escalated by his letting you read him.

you two snuggled naked under the covers and as you laid on his chest and listened to his light snoring, you read him again. 

ease and silence…and love.