#for some reason i just haven’t been able to write smut recently

[jjunieworld]

i’m really gonna try and finish the rules today

[asdfghjklmals]

ACCIDENTS✩༶‧˚

GENRE + T/W: sfw, fluff, angst. no smut. mentions of pregnancy, sex, injury, blood, and abortion. suggestive comments. WORD COUNT: 4.5k words. TAGS: satoru gojo x fem!oc, boyfriend!gojo, pregnant!oc, established couple.

SYNOPSIS: during oc gojo girlfriend's yearly check up with shoko, she finds out she's pregnant. how will satoru act when he finds out? AUTHOR'S NOTE: i did make some changes to the beginning compared to the preview that i posted! thank you @mdnxghtjj for staying up late with me to try to make up scenarios on how oc gojo girlfriend would be pregnant by accident lol my google search probably thinks i'm the pregnant one. here is the official start to my version of dad!gojo and the official start to the baby gojo chronicles 🥹 REMINDER: if you want to imagine yourself in oc gojo girlfriend's character descriptions, instead please do!

your least favorite time of the year was when shoko had everyone visit her office for a yearly check up. that was a full examination for everyone.

“here, pee on this.” shoko handed you a pregnancy test. you looked at her with confusion written all over your face.

shoko saw your facial expression and reassured you, “it’s just part of the protocol, (y/n). would you rather pee in a cup? last time you told me you hate peeing in cups because you don't want to accidentally pee on your hands.”

“fine... it’s gonna be negative anyways.” you said confidently. you took the test from her hand reluctantly and went to the bathroom.

as shoko gave you a thorough examination, you couldn’t help but peer at the white and blue pregnancy test sitting in the corner next to the sink. it wasn’t your first time using one, but it was always strange taking one. especially for no reason.

"alright, you're done. have you been feeling better since you caught that cold?" shoko asked as you hopped off the examination able. she went back to the sink to remove her gloves and wash her hands. you had caught some horrible cold or stomach bug over a month ago, and it left you with fever, chills, and non-stop vomitting for weeks. you were so sick that you told satoru you wanted to write a will to leave everything to megumi and tsumiki because you didn't think you were going to make it.

“yeah. i haven’t been that sick in so long. i was vomitting like every other hour. satoru thought he was going to die when i wouldn’t let him sleep in our bed. he slept in tsumiki's old room for two weeks, poor guy. i didn't want him to catch whatever it was,” you chuckled at the thought of your 6’3” boyfriend sleeping in a baby pink decorated room.

“(y/n)…”

“yeah?” you turned to face shoko.

shoko asked you cautiously, “are you on birth control?”

suspicion filled your eyes as you peered at the amber-eyed doctor, “yeah, i’ve been on birth control since i was 21… why?”

“your pregnancy test came back positive.”

you stared at the digital screen. the words “pregnant” screamed at you inside your head. were you really pregnant? this was something you never thought would happen, at least not right now.

“that’s not possible, shoko.” you laughed nervously in disbelief.

“according to the test, you are.” shoko looked confused. as a doctor, she was determined to figure out how one of her bestfriends, who was on birth control, got pregnant. she studied your charts and medical records as she chewed on the tip of her pen.

you tried to retrace your footsteps for the past month. you had a very specific routine, and you took your birth control every morning after brushing your teeth and washing your face. your package of pills sat in your bathroom drawer just below the sink as your daily reminder to take your birth control.

shoko folded her arms and cleared her throat, “uhm, i hate to ask you this because i truly don’t want to know, but when was the first time you and gojo had sex after you got sick?”

you thought it was a strange question because wouldn’t shoko want to know when the most recent time you were intimate with satoru was?

“well…” you looked at her sheepishly, a face full of embarrassment, “we had sex right when my cold symptoms went away.” it would’ve been uncomfortable for your aching body, so you made satoru wait. and yes, he complained about it for two weeks.

shoko massaged her temples as she realized what the problem was, “god, (y/n). remember you were literally throwing up all the time when you were sick?”

your jaw dropped, “does that mean i threw up my birth control…?”

“that could’ve been the case, but if you throw up 1-2 hours after taking your birth control, your body might not have the chance to absorb it. your body was technically missing dosages since you were vomiting almost every day for a week…” shoko explained.

you stared at the doctor. your heart was racing and your mind had a million thoughts running through your head. you couldn’t believe that you were pregnant. there was just no way. as much as you and satoru joked about having kids, you knew deep down that satoru wasn’t ready. and you didn’t think he’d ever be. but you were okay with that. you had spent most of your young adult life raising two kids, so you felt like you weren't missing out on much.

“please, don’t tell satoru.” you quietly pleaded with shoko.

“don’t tell gojo-sensei what?” megumi asked from the office door. he dropped his backpack and his gym bag on the floor, walking towards you and shoko.

your eyes widened as you discreetly shifted the pregnancy test under your thigh, “hi kiddo, don’t tell gojo-sensei that i bought him his favorite kikufuku as a surprise.” that was a horrible lie, you're usually better than that.

shoko cleared her throat to try and change the subject, “hi megumi! you’re early for your exam.”

“yeah, i finished jujutsu practice early.” he replied back to shoko as he reverted his gaze back at you, “(y/n), what’s going on?”

“nothing, i just finished my exam. shoko says i’m as healthy as a horse!” you laughed nervously.

“you’re pregnant, aren’t you?” megumi asked you straightforwardly, “you were complaining about your boobs hurting the other day, you felt sick yesterday morning at breakfast, and you complained about being bloated at lunch today. not to mention, you’re always throwing up in my bathroom at home.”

you stopped to think about the symptoms that megumi just listed. you didn’t even consider that being pregnant was the reason why you were experiencing those symptoms. you always thought you were in the clear with those stupid tiny birth control pills.

you sighed, lifting your thigh to grab the pregnancy test. you showed it to megumi. “satoru doesn’t know… and we’re going to keep it that way.”

“why don’t you want to tell him?” he asked you, “are you guys fighting?”

“no, we're not fighting. this whole thing was an accident because of my cold last month... and to be honest, i don't know if your sensei even wants kids.” you smiled halfheartedly at megumi.

“i won’t say anything.” megumi promised. he couldn't imagine satoru gojo not wanting to reproduce and to have mini-satorus running around to terrorize the jujutsu world.

you warned him, “that means you can’t tell tsumiki either, i don’t want her to rush back home from her study abroad program just because of this.” (read 'wherever you are' here)

megumi reached his pinky out to you and you locked yours with his, both of you kissing your thumbs to seal the seal. he wrapped his arms around you in a warm hug. you needed that comfort right now.

“if i do the math, you’re about 5 weeks pregnant, (y/n).” shoko said, “so stop taking your birth control if you want to keep your baby.” megumi’s green eyes peered over at you, interested in what you had to say about that.

“what if i want to get an abortion…?” you asked quietly. megumi’s eyes now wide in horror. 'how could you even think about abortion?' he thought.

shoko sighed, “i think that’s something you should have a serious talk with gojo about. it would be unfair for him not to know.”

you weren’t sure if you should feel excited, nervous, or scared. you were excited because who wouldn’t want to have a child with the love of their life? you were nervous (and scared) because you didn’t know how satoru would react if you told him. you were scared because your unborn baby would be a target to all rival clans, inheriting all of yours and satoru’s enemies. not only that, but also a target for all intelligent curses as well.

later that night: the gojo/(l/n) household

“how was your yearly check up?” satoru asked as you poked at your medium rare steak that you probably shouldn’t be eating now that you were pregnant. he watched you as you rolled a roasted baby potato around your plate with your fork.

“it was fine. healthy as a horse.” you recycled your joke from this afternoon. satoru furrowed his brows, he sensed something was wrong. you were fine this morning, so what happened between the time you went to work and the time you got home?

“are you sure…?” he started to pry.

annoyance starting to rise in your tone. you kissed the back of your teeth, “i just don’t feel well… and the steak is too rare.” you lied. you always ate your steak medium rare. rareness did not bother you, the cow could still be mooing and you’d eat it.

“i can always put it back on the grill, babe. want it medium?”

“well-done, please.” you mumbled, “thanks, sweetheart.”

satoru picked up your plate, extremely confused on why all of a sudden you would eat a well-done steak. it was very unlike you. he kissed you on the cheek to try to ease whatever it was that was bugging you. you wanted to tell him so badly that you were pregnant. you never kept secrets from each other. you watched him slide on his slippers, opening the door to the patio with catoru following behind him. he slapped your steak on the grill again while looking out at the tokyo skyline.

during this time, you wondered what kind of father satoru would be. you imagined he would be the carefree type of dad. he would be the fun, loving, lenient father while you were the one to lay down the rules. that’s how it was when you were both raising megumi and tsumiki. your eyes started to well up with tears at the thought of satoru possibly becoming a father. was this the pregnancy hormones getting to you?

you quickly wiped your tears as satoru made his way back into the apartment with your steak. he closed the door behind him and sat down next to you at the dining table.

“why were you crying just barely?” he asked softly. he could sense your cursed energy wavering from the patio. he knew every mood you were in just because of how your cursed energy looked to his six eyes.

“i wasn’t crying,” you said adamantly, “my eyes were itchy.”

satoru understood that whatever was bothering you, you didn’t want to talk about it. normally, he would pry and pry until you would finally tell him what was wrong, but tonight, he felt that he shouldn’t. he cut your steak into bite-sized cubes for you, just like how you always did before you started eating.

you caressed his cheek with your hand, giving him a soft smile in appreciation.

“should we go get some ice cream with the kids tomorrow? i promise i’ll treat.” he asked, knowing that ice cream always made you feel better after a shitty day.

“yeah. i need that dairy-free double scoop of chocolate ice cream right now.” (read ‘seeing red’ here)

the next day

you had taken half a day off to meet satoru, nobara, yuji, and megumi in shibuya to grab the ice cream that satoru promised you last night. you and satoru walked next to each together as your spirit birds flew overhead. the students were following behind you with their ice cream cones.

“i still can’t believe gojo-sensei has been dating (y/n)-sensei for over 10 years.” nobara hissed at her two partners as she watched you and satoru walking together in front of them.

“why is it hard to believe? sensei is a pretty good looking dude.” yuji said nonchalantly.

megumi sighed and explained, “that’s not the point, itadori. the point is that (y/n)-sensei is way out of his league.”

“you seem pretty close to her, fushiguro.” yuji pointed out, noticing that megumi always defended you no matter what the topic was.

“i kinda owe her and gojo-sensei my life.” megumi grumbled, “they took me in when i was five.”

nobara looked at him, wide-eyed, “you mean… they adopted you when they were 18?! and (y/n)-sensei is basically like your mom?! oh my god! he needs to put a ring on her immediately for all he puts her through!”

megumi knew the reason why you two weren’t married yet. it was for your safety, not because gojo-sensei didn’t want to. he would’ve married you right after high school graduation if that was the case.

you giggled to yourself as you scooped chocolate ice cream to feed to satoru. he grabbed the spoon from you, licking it clean.

“their conversation is so funny.” you said to him.

“are you listening to them with your shikigami? you’re so nosy.” satoru playfully chastised you.

you called back your birds with your hand signal as they flew closer to you and satoru. they seemed to be flying happily as no danger was around. “your students are wondering why we aren’t married yet.”

“you already know why.” satoru put the spoon back into your ice cream.

“you don’t want to make me a target.” you recited back to him. satoru gojo believed that if you were to marry him, you would be a target and gain all his and the gojo clan’s enemies. that would make you the achilles' heel to the strongest sorcerer known to man.

“it’s not like people don’t know that we’re together.” you rolled your eyes, “i can take care of myself, satoru. i'm pretty sure the kamo clan is out for my head as we speak.” (read ‘love at first fight’ here)

“i know you can take care of yourself. i just think it’s safer this way.” he shrugged.

“but i want to have kids too. i’m not getting any younger.” you inserted, hoping he’d take the bait to talk about having kids.

“what are you talking about? we have two kids, megumi and tsumiki.” satoru said nonchalantly, you wanted to face palm your forehead to how oblivious he was.

digging deeper, you added, “i want kids with white hair and blue eyes running around.”

“hate to break it to you sweetheart, but they won’t be getting blue eyes. there can only be one six eyes in a lifetime, you already know that.”

“what about your white hair?” you tip-toed to ruffle his hair as he laughed, grabbing your hand.

“what about your black hair and beautiful green eyes that i love so much?” satoru grinned at you, “if you want, we can practice reproducing later tonight?”

you threw an ice shard at him, hitting his infinity. “no inappropriate jokes around the students, please.” you chastised him as he winked at you. you scooped another bite of ice cream into your mouth as you frowned.

“so feisty… i’m in for a world of trouble if our future kids ever get your attitude.”

“if that’s the case… you better get ready.” you muttered under your breath.

satoru didn’t hear your comment. “hmmm? what’d you say?” he asked.

“nothing, eat your ice cream.” you replied, quickly shoving another spoonful in his mouth.

"ouch, brain freeze." satoru grimaced.

one week later

time was ticking as the baby in your stomach was growing. you had to tell satoru you were pregnant.

your morning sickness was horrible. you didn’t want satoru to catch onto anything, so whenever you felt sick, you ran to the bathroom near megumi’s room across the apartment instead of your master bathroom. (see the apartment layout here)

“babe?” satoru found you in the guest bathroom, hurled over the toilet, dry heaving. “are you okay?” he crouched down to pull your hair back, “do we need to go see shoko?”

“no, it’s fine.” you pushed him away, “leave me alone, please. i don't want to you see me like this.”

“and why would i leave you alone? there's clearly something going on with your health again.” he comforted you, rubbing firm circles on your upper back.

after your morning sickness session in the bathroom subsided, you miserably dragged your feet back to your bathroom to brush your teeth. satoru leaned against the bathroom door frame, arms folded. you turned to face him.

“don’t you have a mission today?” you asked him, hoping that he'd leave soon.

“yeah, i do. but don’t change the subject. what is going on? are you sick?” satoru asked. the past week you had unintentionally become distant and avoided having deep conversations with him. he felt the cold shoulder from you emotionally and he hated it. he was starting to get fed up.

“no. i’m not sick.”

“do you have some type of terminal illness or something that you’re not telling me about?”

“no, satoru!” you scoffed in disbelief. he was so smart and cunning in battle, how could he not put 2+2 together for something as simple as this?

“do you want to break up with me? is that it? are you tired of me?” he asked quietly.

how could he ask you that after 10 years of putting up with him?

“no!!!” you shouted at him.

“then what is it, (y/n)?!” he finally snapped after a week of trying to be patient, “what are you hiding from me?” satoru’s voice raised an octave as he got more frustrated as the conversation was going nowhere.

you couldn’t handle it anymore. you clenched your fists, water started pouring out of the apartment faucets and showers from your raging cursed energy.

“i’m pregnant!” you shouted back at him.

satoru lifted his blindfold, his blue eyes widened, jaw dropped. it was as if time stood still for him. the only thing he could hear was the sound of your angry breathing and all the faucets flowing throughout the apartment.

“what…?” satoru whispered, “that can’t happen. you’re on birth control.”

“that’s what i thought too. but shoko confirmed it.” you told him as tears started to form on your long dark lashes.

“damn it… damn it. damn it!” satoru hissed. he ran his fingers through his hair, pushing off his blindfold and throwing it at the bathroom counter. “why didn’t you tell me?”

his reaction hurt your feelings, “because i didn’t know what your reaction would be and clearly you’re not happy about it.”

“how far along are you?” he asked, ignoring your comment. he walked towards you to stand beside you, putting his hand on top of yours. you flinched as you took your hand back to wipe your tears away.

“6 weeks. it’s early enough that i can get an abortion.” you sniffled.

“just… don’t make any decisions right now.” he said. it sounded like he was begging you, “we can talk more when i get back from this damn mission.”

satoru leaned towards you. he grabbed the side of your head to kiss your temple, “i love you, (y/n). i'm not mad at you.” he whispered.

satoru’s mission

it took everything in satoru not to leave you behind at the apartment alone after the way he reacted. why did he have to be assigned such a lowly mission? any of the students could’ve handled it, so why did it have to be him out of all people and out of all the days?

he teleported to shinagawa where it was reported that a curse was terrorizing an elementary school. it looked deserted when he arrived at the front gate.

satoru raised two fingers to put up a veil, “emerge from darkness, blacker still. purify that which is impure.”

he walked into the school, his six eyes sensing the curse right away. it couldn’t have been more than a grade 2 or 3. he heard a bloodcurdling scream, leading him to the gymnasium.

“please help!” a woman’s voice screamed and begged as the curse towered over her. satoru teleported in front of the woman and swiftly blasted the curse away with sheer force, exorcising it immediately.

“are you alright?” satoru turned to ask the woman. he stopped dead in his tracks.

she was pregnant.

“please sir, save my baby.” she begged as she was bleeding from her abdomen. her hands and arms shielding her womb protectively. the curse must’ve already injured her before satoru arrived. he kicked himself for his late arrival. he could’ve prevented this if he came earlier.

he lifted the injured woman in his arms, “don’t worry. i’ll save you. nothing will happen to you or your baby.” he promised as he teleported to the closest hospital.

tokyo shinagawa hospital

“it looks like the patient and her baby will be fine. she was close to full term. if she lost any more blood, her and the baby would’ve died.” the doctor reported back to satoru as ijichi stood next to him, documenting everything for the report that he would have to fill out later.

satoru was deep in thought about how this woman begged him to save her baby and not herself. it was the fact that she so selflessly put her baby first that really got to him.

he thought about you and what you would’ve done if you were in that woman’s shoes. he knew that you would protect your baby with your life because he would do the exact same thing. satoru felt his protective instinct skyrocket now more than ever.

satoru’s heart felt heavy. he immediately felt guilty knowing that you thought he didn't want to have kids and how hard this must have been for you the past week. he wanted to be there for you, but he was terrified of the unknown. would he be a good father? would he be able to protect this baby? and were you even happy being pregnant with his child?

“ijichi, can you take care of the rest? i have somewhere i need to be.” satoru asked impatiently.

ijichi complained, “are you sure you’re not just trying to pawn off your work to me?”

“there are two people who need me right now.” satoru waved as he teleported back to the apartment. the two people in question? you and the baby that was growing in your belly.

back at the apartment

you felt satoru’s cursed energy appear as he teleported back into the living room. he walked towards you and hugged you tightly, surprising you.

“can’t. breathe.” you said as your face was squished into his firm chest.

he immediately let go of you, scared he hurt the baby by embracing you so tightly.

“i know what you're thinking, the baby is fine.” you said as you hugged him back even tighter in return, “did you know the baby is the size of a sweet pea according to my baby tracking app? so they wouldn't have even felt that hug.”

“that’s pretty small.” he said, chuckling softly. he paused to take a deep breath, he then looked down at you, “can we talk?”

you nodded as he guided you back to the couch, sitting down in the soft white cushions as he sat on the floor in front of you, holding your hands.

he looked you in the eyes, “don’t get an abortion, (y/n).”

you blinked twice, “well, that’s not what i was expecting. what changed your mind?”

“i never said i didn’t want kids, babe.” satoru said defensively.

you mumbled as you folded your arms, “you made it sound like you didn’t. and your reaction when i told you i was pregnant earlier today doesn’t support that statement.” avoiding eye contact with him.

he grabbed your hands again and explained his point of view, “i was upset that you hid it from me. and i was surprised because you were on birth control which is supposed to prevent pregnancy. and i was really fucking scared.”

“scared? the satoru gojo scared of a baby the size of a sweet pea?” you emphasized. he furrowed his eyebrows at you.

“i had a come-to-jesus moment during my mission.” he started to say, “(y/n), i’d do anything for you. just like you would for me. but now… we can’t put each other first anymore. we have to set our priorities elsewhere.”

“what do you mean by that?”

“we have to think of this baby and how this baby will always come first now.”

you were quiet, processing what satoru just said. yours and satoru's lives were going to drastically change. this baby would be your number one priority in life. you and satoru spent the last decade caring deeply for each other and being each other's prime concern, now this baby would come first.

you realized that he was terrified of having this baby be the center of his universe, knowing that the baby would be defenseless without you and him. satoru wanted to protect this baby with his life, just like the mother he saved today who wanted to save her baby's life.

being a parent meant that you would always have your heart living outside of your body, and that would make you vulnerable to extreme pain, but also let you experience indescribable love. and that was something you were willing to risk experiencing in life with satoru.

“you're right, babe. i agree.” you said softly, you held his cheek in your hand. “you really want to do this? you really want to be a dad?”

“hell yes i want this.” satoru said confidently, holding your hand against his cheek.

“how dare you get me pregnant, satoru gojo.” you jokingly reprimanded him.

he kneeled forward into you as he kissed you softly, ���sorry, it was an accident.”

EXTRA:

“babe! show me this baby app you’ve been using this past week.” satoru demanded playfully as he pulled you into his lap. you grinned as you grabbed your phone to pull up the ‘what to expect’ app.

“so! baby gojo is the size of a sweet pea or a nail head. and they’re .25 inches small.”

"baby gojo... i like the sound of that." he smiled at the thought. he nodded, a signal for you to continue.

“it says that baby gojo’s face is forming and taking shape! i hope they don’t get your big head...” you laughed as satoru frowned.

“my head is not big!” he defended himself, “moving on.”

“it says that the heart starts to pulse around this time and we should be able to hear a heartbeat at my first pre-natal appointment…” you said with a smile.

“i’ll make sure i request that day off.”

“you better! or i’ll have a word with principal yaga.” you smacked his chest playfully with the back of your hand. “baby gojo supposedly looks like a tadpole with a tiny tail. and i won’t feel any movement for awhile.”

“so you can’t feel it move or anything?” satoru asked curiously.

“no, but i’m feeling these pregnancy symptoms.” you complained, “my boobs hurt, my heartburn is worse than usual, and the morning sickness is killing me.”

“okay, so basically, don’t touch your boobs anymore, carry extra tums for you, and hold your hair for you when you throw up in the morning. got it.” satoru noted.

you glared at him with your emerald green eyes, “please stop talking.”

wanna know how the rest of oc gojo girlfriend's pregnancy goes? read the next chapter, ‘milestones’ here.

© 2023 ASDFGHJKLMALS — ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORK.

DIVIDERS PROVIDED BY @/ANLIAN-AISHANG

[glossdebut]

Take a Bite Ch. 3

✧ PAIRING: yoongi x fem!reader

✧ SUMMARY: Your fledgling career as a music journalist is finally going in some kind of direction that must be on the path to success. Your coworkers like you enough to invite you out on Fridays, your boss is starting to think you’re competent enough to let you score a few bylines, and you're finally getting the hang of InDesign. All of your hard work, late nights, and complete lack of a social life are starting to pay off... Even if it all came at the expense of the longest relationship of your life. Fine. You've accepted the fact that romance isn't for you, under any circumstances. You won't risk your career for anybody. Not even Min Yoongi.

✧ TAGS: slow burn, eventual smut, eventual romance, producer yoongi, music journalist reader, neighbors to friends to lovers? you'll see, reader is bad at feelings, reader is post-break up

✧ WARNINGS: yoongi being RICH. also... remember that eventual smut? well it's kind of here! if you wanna skip, stop reading at [Maybe you should fix that.] and then continue at [After another moment, you roll over onto your stomach...]

✧ WORDCOUNT: 3.5k

✧ STATUS: ongoing

✧ AUTHOR'S NOTE: hi i normally post on wednesdays but we're about to get a HURRICANE where i'm at so i'm posting early lmfao. rating goes up in this chapter whoops! not sure when chapter 4 will be posted but i'll keep you guys updated. thank you all so much for the engagement i've been receiving on this fic!!! it's my first one ever and i never expected to get so many readers so quickly <3 you guys are keeping me writing so please feel free to send me feedback if you like this chapter. i'd love to read it if i have power over the next few days LOL

Chapter 3: I Wanna Fold Clothes For You

So, you and Yoongi are friends.

Of course, seeing him three times within twenty four hours was a fluke, and over the next six days you don’t see him once, not even in passing in your shared hallway. You’re not privy to his work hours, but you know based on what little he’s told you that working as a producer demands more than the normal nine to five, as does your job.

Still, there’s something about coming home every night and knowing that you have a friend right down the hall, if you need one. You haven’t had that in a long time, and you feel so much lighter now that you do have it. 

There is, of course, an upside to not being able to see Yoongi often. Given that you’ve only just met him, you don’t have his appearance committed to memory quite yet, and mercifully, you’re beginning to forget why you were so viscerally attracted to him in the first place. 

You reason that it must’ve been the alcohol. You were getting drunk when you met him, stupidly drunk when you discovered that you’re neighbors, hungover when you shared a tangerine, and drinking from a bottomless glass of wine (courtesy of Seokjin) when you drooled over his hands for a solid ten minutes. You have yet to interact with Yoongi clear-headed and lucid. Not to mention you’re just a little bit… pent up, recently. Drunk and horny Y/N had the wheel. That has to be it. Nobody is that hot. You’re sure of that. Men ain’t special!

So you go through your week business as usual, but with a slight spring in your step, and it’s lovely. You even venture way further away from the office for your lunch hour on Friday than you normally would to go to a restaurant you’ve been dying to try. You’re usually so tied to the office that the furthest you tend to go is the convenience store down the street for the instant stuff.

And then, since the universe demands correction (or overcorrection where you’re concerned), all of the floaty goodness comes to a screeching halt when you get in your car to head back to the office. Your car which, in the past hour you’ve been blissfully stuffing your face with tteokbokki, has decided it has done its job and is ready to retire.

It just straight up won’t start.

Sitting in the parking lot of the restaurant, you go into crisis management mode.

You’re thankfully not completely clueless where cars are concerned. It comes with the territory of owning a beater. You keep up with your oil changes, you don’t leave the lights on when you get home late. You replaced your battery semi-recently, so that shouldn’t be it. Unfortunately, you don’t have much time to troubleshoot. You need to get back to work. Okay… Damage control, then.

The most obvious solution is to call one of your coworkers to come and rescue you, but your coworkers are just as notorious for being tethered within a one mile radius of the office as you are, so that would more than likely end up being a waste of time. You could find the nearest bus stop, but who knows how long public transportation could take right now? Too unpredictable. You could call your boss and tell him that you’re not going to be back to the office anytime soon (or at all today) and get your car towed and repaired. But then you would suddenly have a reputation of being unreliable, because god forbid you have a human moment. That’s straight up not an option. You’ve been doing so good this week.

You’re sure there are other options. But isn’t this what friends are for?

He answers on the fifth ring, but he answers.

“Y/N?” 

“Yoongi.” You feel your shoulders slump in relief. You try your best not to sound as panicked as you feel. “Are you busy?”

“Um. I’m at the studio,” he says, confusion in his voice. “But I have a minute. Is everything okay?” Confusion and concern? That’s nice.

“Everything’s fine!” you blurt out. “Okay, maybe not. My car won’t start! I don’t know why, but it won’t, and I need to get back to work, but you’re at work, too! I don’t even know where you work, but I doubt it’s anywhere near where I am, and even if it is, I don’t want to tear you away from anything important—”

“Y/N.”

“—I know you said you had a minute, but I really don’t want to fuck up your flow. That’s a term, right? You’re a producer, you… flow. Anyway, I just don’t really know anyone here and I didn’t know who to call, and if I don’t get back to work soon my boss is going to kill me—”

“Y/N,” he says, more firmly. Your mouth snaps shut. “Where are you?”

“In my car,” you say dumbly, frazzled.

Yoongi sighs. “Send me your location.”

“For what?”

“I’m gonna send a car to come get you and drive you to your office,” he says, and he sounds just the slightest bit exasperated about needing to explain that to you.

Send a car? What the fuck? You have so many questions, such as: how fucking loaded is the guy who lives two doors down from you in your very shitty apartment building? What label does he even work for? How famous of a producer is he to be able to send a car to you? But your immediate instinct to turn down his help wins out over asking any of them.

“What? Yoongi, no, that’s too much,” you complain. “Don’t do that. I just freaked out a little bit, I can–”

“Y/N,” he interrupts. If you’re not mistaken, it sounds a bit like he’s trying not to laugh at you. Fucker. “Location.”

So you send him your location. What other option do you have?

“You’re not far,” Yoongi says once he receives your text. A few moments pass, and then: “Car will be there in ten.”

“Thank you,” you say. You feel nauseous, like maybe you’re going to cry, but there’s also a good amount of relief there, too. “I’ll make it up to you.”

“No need,” he says. “I’d come get you myself, but I really can’t get away right now.”

“Still, there’s a comically large bottle of an alcohol of your choosing in your future. Seriously, thank you.”

His responding laugh is enough to settle your stomach just a little. “Seriously, you don’t need to pay me back…” A pause. “But for the record, I like whiskey.”

You wrinkle your nose even though he can’t see it. “Gross.”

“Don’t be a hater.”

“As long as you don’t make me drink it with you, I’ll keep my comments to myself,” you say, finding yourself smiling.

“Oh, you think I share?” Yoongi teases back. He sighs again. “I really have to go.”

“Go, go,” you say. “Thanks for saving me. Even if it’s by proxy.”

“You can always call me if you need shit like this,” he says. You can tell that he means it. “I’m glad you called me. Means I’m doing something right.”

“You are,” you say, your voice soft. Your cheeks feel warm. Probably because you’re sitting in a dead car. “Thanks.”

Yoongi hums in response. “Text me when you get back to the office safe, okay?”

“I will. Bye, Yoongi.”

And that’s that.

★ ★ ★

True to your word, you text Yoongi when the stupidly luxurious car he ordered for you drops you off at your office, only ten minutes later than you’re due back from your lunch break. You’re able to slip in without anyone noticing that you’re late at all, which is great. Crisis partially averted.

He sends back a thumbs up emoji, and then decides to drop the bomb that he intends to pay for your car to be towed.

[1:21] You: YOONGI NO

[1:21] You: you can’t do that!!!!

[1:24] Yoongi: 100% I can and will as soon as I get ten minutes to make a phone call to sort it out.

The audacity of this man.

[1:25] You: seriously i cannot ask you to do that

[1:25] You: i was just going to take the bus back to the restaurant after work and deal with it from there. i’m actively researching towing companies and repair places on company time as we speak

[1:30] Yoongi: You’re not asking me. You’ve got enough to worry about. Let me take care of it. I know the places.

[1:31] You: still, i can’t let you spend money like that on me. i don’t even wanna think about what that car cost you

[1:31] Yoongi: If it helps you sleep at night you can pay me back on your own time. You definitely don’t have to though.

[1:32] Yoongi: That reminds me. You can use that car until yours is taken care of if you need to. I’ll send you the driver’s contact. Don’t take the bus.

You feel like you’re going insane.

[1:33] You: do you have a grammy or something? what do you DO to be able to afford shit like this? why do you live in our building? are you a drug dealer?

[1:37] Yoongi: :]

Of course, he gives you no clues about what exactly he does, but after a bit more back-and-forth, you finally give in and let Yoongi handle everything under the condition that you’re going to pay him back. He doesn’t seem all that worried about it, which infuriates you just a little.

You go through the rest of your day like normal, if not a tad twitchy. Come quitting time, you take advantage of having a driver at your disposal and have him stop a liquor store on your way home.

As you take the elevator up to your floor, comically large whiskey bottle (as promised) in tow, you text Yoongi and ask if he’s home yet. At his responding ‘No, why?’ you cackle to yourself and pocket your phone. The elevator doors slide open. You were hoping that would be the case. 

You clocked out at a semi-normal time tonight, a gift to yourself to cope with the stress of the day, and so you take great pleasure in setting the bottle down on Yoongi’s very tasteful cat doormat, flipping it off right back on your way into your own apartment.

You silently pray to whatever god may be listening that the whiskey isn’t swiped by someone before Yoongi gets home. Your cat, Pepper, is blinking at you lazily on the kitchen counter, and you give her a triumphant little scratch on the head before padding to your bedroom to deal with your laundry.

Your move, Min Yoongi.

★ ★ ★

“Do I need to be jealous?”

You take advantage of getting off work early to call your best friend Rina for the first time in what feels like forever. She’s in Paris this month, debuting a play that she’s been working on tirelessly about aliens and drug addiction. You’ve read the script six times over. It’s both campy and gut wrenching all at once, and you’ve cried every time. You picture her with her very chic haircut, sipping from a flute of champagne. The thought of her being jealous of any part of your life is laughable. 

“What do you have to be jealous of, exactly?” you snort, holding your phone between your ear and shoulder as you toss your laundry basket upside down on your bed unceremoniously. Your clothes are covered in a perma-layer of Pepper hair, and you think it’s lucky that Pepper is a black cat and most of your clothes are black. Very enviable.

“Of Yoongi, dipshit,” she coos through the phone. “You’re replacing me.”

“Sure,” you say, like she’s making total sense. You’re lying on top of your laundry now instead of folding it. You put her on speakerphone and rest your phone on your chest. “I’m throwing away ten years of being your best friend for a guy that I met a week ago. I’m glad you figured it out, honestly, because I was dreading telling you. I was going to wait until your matinée, but you don’t seem too broken up about it.”

“Of course. You have to do what’s right for you, I’ve always told you that,” she deadpans back, and you groan. You don’t want to hear it. “No, I just mean… It’s good. That you’re meeting people.”

“We’re neighbors,” you say, flopping over onto your front to rub at your temples. Rina is resting on a pile of your underwear now. “We talk about work. My work, not his, because he thinks it’s funny to act like he’s too cool to tell me about his job. He’s helping me with my car. We’re… neighborly.”

“And you want to fuck him,” she says. Maybe calling Rina was a bad idea. Debriefing over text would have sufficed.

“I don’t want to fuck him,” you say, indignant. “We’re friends. He’s nice. I can have a guy friend.”

“Of course you can,” Rina says, like you’re dumb for even thinking she would imply otherwise. “And you can be friends with him all you want. But you also want to fuck him.”

You groan in protest but she speaks over it.

“Baby, you can pretend, but I know how you talk about people you want to have sex with, even if you don’t say it outright,” she continues. “He may just be feeding you and helping you and talking to you about the weather, but I know you, and I know the whole time he’s talking you’re just agonizing over how he might fuck you if you let him.”

“That’s not fair,” you mumble, letting your face drop into your laundry. It smells good. Small comforts.

“Are you going to let him?”

“No,” you whine, muffled by the cotton. “I don’t need that. There are always strings. I hate strings.”

“You said he’s a super straightforward, honest guy, right?” Rina asks.

“Brutally so,” you grumble.

“So. Maybe he’d be cool with a lack of strings. You won’t know unless you ask, baby.”

You want to tell her that’s easy for her to say, but you don’t want to fight with her when you know you won’t hear from her like this again for a while. 

Rina has never compromised for anything. She decided in both of your sophomore year of college, after flirting with both performance and directing, that she wanted to be a playwright, and that was that. 

She wrote and wrote and wrote, and after you graduated together, her career blossomed almost instantly because she worked goddamn hard for it. She got opportunities to travel and work with theatre companies around the world, and she took them without giving it a second thought because she knew it was what she wanted. And she’s had a consistent, loyal boyfriend nearly the whole time. He doesn’t always travel with her, but he supports her in everything she does. They’re excruciatingly healthy about it. 

When your long-term college boyfriend dumped you unceremoniously two months into your first reporter gig because he felt he came second to your career, Rina was there for you. But you resented her a little bit. There was no way she could understand any of it. 

Still, as much as you hate to admit it, she has a point. You could just ask Yoongi if he wants to fool around without it being a thing, and you know he’d give you a straight answer. You’re even pretty confident he wouldn’t make it weird if his answer was no. That’s not the problem. It never is.

“The problem isn’t whether or not I think he’d be cool with it,” you mumble. “The problem is if he is cool with it, and then the strings come anyway. The friendship is nice. I’m attracted to him, yeah, fine. But I can ignore it if it means I get to be his friend.”

Theres a long pause on the line, and then Rina sighs.

“Your life would be a lot easier if you could do one night stands,” she says.

Don’t you know it. 

“Yeah.”

“I’ve gotta go, okay? Text me. Keep me updated on life.” You read between the lines. On Yoongi, she means. “I love you.”

“Mmmhh,” you mumble back, still burying your face into your laundry. 

When the line disconnects, you feel considerably more twitchy and irritable than you did before talking to Rina.

So, you’re attracted to Yoongi. Or you were, when you were drunk and he was all… hot and considerate. That doesn’t mean you have to act on it! You’re not going to act on it. You’re just pent up, that’s all. It’s been a long time since you’ve had an orgasm, self-inflicted or otherwise, and you can’t think straight.

Maybe you should fix that.

It’s clear you’re giving up on laundry for the night, so you shove the mountain of clothes back into the basket on the floor, sighing as you lay back on your bed.

You feel only slightly ridiculous as you shimmy your sleep shorts down your thighs, your hands sliding up your shirt to cup your breasts, squeezing slightly. Warming yourself up.

You quickly decide to get to the point, though. You’re struggling to immerse yourself in the fantasy that usually does the trick, too wound up and embarrassed (as if it’s not you in here by yourself, as usual) at groping yourself.

Despite the embarrassment, it becomes abundantly clear that you didn’t really need to warm yourself up anyway. Your fingers slide through your folds with ease, drenched like you’ve been that way all fucking day, unbeknownst to you, and a surprised moan falls from your lips. Fuck.

Closing your eyes, you circle two fingers around your clit experimentally, making your hips jerk up under you, sensitive. You do it again, a little firmer, starting a slow rhythm that makes you squirm against your mattress, your bottom lip rolling between your teeth.

It feels good. It usually does—you’ve always been able to make quick work of an orgasm to rid yourself of any lingering jitters before bed. But it feels really good right now, your pussy extra sensitive tonight, and you can’t figure out why. There’s nothing new about what you’re doing.

Rina’s words worm their way into your brain uninvited—the whole time he’s talking you’re just agonizing over how he might fuck you if you let him—and you’re too turned on to stop that train of thought, flashes of capable hands and pink tongue (tonguetechnologytonguetechnologytonguetechnology) filling your mind, and you’re moaning softly despite yourself as you rub your clit a little faster.

You continue to make soft noises of pleasure, your tongue darting out to wet your lips, dry from panting as the barrage of Yoongi-related thoughts keep coming, bringing you closer and closer to your release. 

Dark, dark eyes looking down at you. A delicate chain dangling above your face. You whimper, your fingers sliding down from your clit to sink into your pussy, curling up to rub at your inner walls. A thick cock sliding into you, filling you so deliciously.

You pump your fingers fast and desperate as you get closer and closer to that sweet edge. You wonder what Yoongi would sound like if he was the one fucking into you right now. Would he moan in your ear in that gravelly voice of his? He’s a man of few words. Would he be like that in bed, too? Would he call you sweet names? Not so sweet? Which ones?

Your walls flutter around your fingers, your hips stuttering up off the mattress as your orgasm crashes over you and you gasp out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding.

You stare up at the ceiling for a minute panting. The high of your release buzzes pleasantly through your body before it starts ebbing away, but the thoughts of Yoongi pervade. Well, fuck.

After another moment, you roll over onto your stomach to grab a towel from your laundry basket and wipe off your fingers, tossing it on the floor. You grab your phone, only to be greeted by a notification from the subject of your masturbation fantasy himself. He sent it about ten minutes ago.

When you tap it open, you’re greeted with a photo (!!!) of Yoongi holding your gift next to his head, the hand wrapped around the neck of the whiskey bottle almost dwarfed by its sheer size. A testament to the ridiculousness of it, because you’re well aware of how long Yoongi’s fingers are. There’s a lazy smirk on his face, and a mole that you’re just now noticing on his right cheek.

[8:23] Yoongi: Cute. 

Yep. Yep. Cool.

You swipe out, tapping on Rina’s contact.

[8:35] You: okay. i want to fuck him. 

[8:35] Rina: 🥂🥳🎉

Shit.

✧ shoot me a reply or an ask if you enjoyed this chapter! feedback is always appreciated <3 join my taglist if you want to be tagged in future chapters!

@dollfaceksj @jajabro

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[daisynik7]

Omg Nikki!!! Congrats on the milestone!!!! 🥂 May I submit a request for this fun event? Me & U, Cassie for Gojo Satoru? -Smut if you don't mind ? 🥺

Me & U

It's me and you, I've been waiting, think I wanna make that move now

Pairing: frat boy!Gojo x sorority girl!reader

Rating: Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~2.2k

cw: college au, drinking, explicit language, smut – PIV sex (cowgirl), cunnilingus, fingering, sex without a condom, creampie, pet names (sweetheart, baby)

Summary: You’re hosting a party tonight to celebrate Shoko’s acceptance into medical school. She invites a few of her friends, including resident frat star Satoru Gojo, who you historically don’t get along with. That changes when you find out his true feelings for you. 

Author’s Notes: Thanks for requesting this @mochimooon! This is a classic y2k hit for the karaoke party! I haven’t written much for Gojo, I find him so intimidating for some reason! But I had fun writing this. I hope you like it!

Shoko kneels on one knee, expertly double fisting Smirnoff Ices as you and your sisters chant your favorite drinking song. “Here’s to sister Shoko, sister Shoko, sister Shoko! Here’s to sister Shoko who’s with us tonight.”

“She’s slutty! She’s sleazy! She’s so fucking easy! Here’s to sister Shoko who’s with us tonight!”

“Now drink motherfucker, drink motherfucker, drink motherfucker. Drink!”

“NOW DRINK MOTHERFUCKER, DRINK MOTHERFUCKER, DRINK MOTHERFUCKER. DRINK!” This last line is the loudest, resulting in an uproar of cheers and laughter as she waves the two empty bottles, showing off her drinking prowess.

She recently got into her dream medical school and you’re hosting this party to celebrate, one last bang before she’s sent off in the fall. It’s only the seniors gathered tonight, all of you squeezing into your teensy off-campus, one-bedroom apartment. The celebrant wraps her arm around your shoulder, kissing you on the cheek. “Thank you for this. Might be the last time I’ll be able to for a while.”

You smile, hugging her back. “Then you better keep drinking while you still have the chance.”

She grabs the handle of vodka on the counter, twisting off the cap to take a swig. “You don’t have to tell me twice."

Since it’s an unofficial gathering of more than three sisters involving alcohol, you decide to do the responsible thing and volunteer to be sober monitor, just in case all hell breaks loose. You nurse a sparkling water, watching with amusement as your sorority sisters gradually get more and more intoxicated, especially Shoko, who’s got a happy buzz going. 

There’s loud banging on the door, causing a few of the girls to shriek. You answer it only to be met by blinding white hair, piercing blue eyes, and that all-too-familiar smirk. “Hey there, sweetheart.”

Satoru Gojo. Self-proclaimed frat star. Notorious playboy. Overall nuisance. And, unfortunately, Shoko’s good friend, which is why he’s here. 

You resist the urge to roll your eyes at him, swinging the door open to let him in. His fraternity brother, Geto, greets you politely with an embrace. You’re fond of him, having spent time with him over this past year after being voted sweetheart of their fraternity. In fact, you’re quite fond of all of the brothers, except for one. 

You’re not quite sure why you and Gojo don’t get along. Maybe it’s because of his arrogant attitude, or his inability to be serious when you need him to be. You’ve had to work alongside him on several occasions, each one resulting in disagreements or petty arguments. Like oil and water, the two of you don’t mix, simple as that. But, for Shoko’s sake, you tolerate him, enough to remain cordial, for the most part. 

“Shoko!” he greets, hugging her tightly. “Happy birthday!”

You notice the other sisters watching them, whispering to each other with giddy smiles on their faces. Of course they’re happy to see him. After all, even you can’t deny his striking good looks and charisma. While the two of them catch up, you stand by Geto, who’s searching the fridge for a beer. “How’s it going?”

He cracks open the can, taking a sip before answering. “Alright. We missed you at last week’s party. Everything okay?”

You smile at him, appreciating his concern. “Yeah, I just had to finish some projects.”

He leans against the counter, gazing at you with a smirk. “You know, Satoru was really excited for tonight.”

“Yeah? To celebrate Shoko?”

“That, and to see you.”

You raise a brow at him. “Me? Why me?”

He laughs softy. “Do you really not know?”

“Know what?”

He hums, finishing his beer. “Maybe I should just let you figure it out for yourself.”

“Geto!” you whine, clinging to his arm. “Just tell me!”

He taps his finger to his lips, winking at you, not saying another word. When he continues to remain silent even after pestering him to elaborate, you leave him, trying to distract yourself by chatting with your sisters. No matter what you do though, your mind always goes back to Satoru Gojo. Why would he be excited to see youof all people? You sneak glances at him as he maneuvers through the party, his impressive stature and magnetic personality taking up most of the space in your small apartment. At least, that’s what it seems like. All your friends fawn over him, eyes sparkling with admiration and lust. All of them except for Shoko, who’s so used to him by now that she’s unfazed. 

You find your way back to her, cradling the half-empty vodka bottle in her hands. “Did Gojo help you with that?” 

She shakes her head. “Nope. This was all me. Besides, Gojo doesn’t drink.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Can you imagine all of that with all of this?” She waves the bottle in her hand. “Pretty sure he would explode.”

You chuckle, observing him further as he performs a party trick involving a blindfold and the beer pong table, successfully making each shot without being able to see. Pretty impressive. 

The night continues. Eventually, most of the liquor stocked in your fridge and cabinets is consumed. All your sisters are drunk, including Shoko, though she manages to maintain her composure well enough to stay up on her feet. Your place is a mess now, cups and cans littered on the floor, trash thrown everywhere except the actual bin, random articles of clothing draped over the couch and TV. It’s the stereotypical image of a successful rager, and unfortunately, it’s your mess to clean up. You don’t mind it too much, especially when Shoko gives you a big smooch on the forehead, thanking you again for hosting. She’s being held between Geto and one of your other sisters, who carry her out the door towards the sorority house where she lives. One by one, each sister thanks you with a loving embrace, all smelling sickly sweet from the liquor. 

Just when you think everyone has left, you’re surprised to see Gojo drag your garbage bin from the kitchen into the living room, bending down to pick up trash.

“You really don’t have to do that,” you tell him, rushing to his side.

“And leave you to deal with this on your own? Come on, I really don’t mind.”

You mutter a quiet, “Thanks,” surprised by his kind gesture. It almost makes you forget about your history together, until he teases, “I take cash or check for my services, by the way.” 

Normally, you’d roll your eyes at him, but this time, you laugh, tossing a few cups into the bin, playing along. “How much do I owe you?”

“Hm…I think I’ll let it slide just this once.” He looks up, grinning at you. There’s a spark for the quickest moment as you hold his gaze. 

Thanks to his help, you manage to get the apartment tidied within minutes. The two of you remain silent for the most part, music still playing in the background on your speaker. He hums along to the tunes he recognizes, picking up the last bits of junk from the floor while you wipe down your sticky kitchen counter. The both of you wash your hands thoroughly, satisfied with your work. 

As he dries his hands, you remember what Geto mentioned earlier. Deciding to be bold, you ask, “I heard you were excited to see me tonight. Is that true?”

A small smirk forms on his lips as he nods. “That is true, yes.”

“Why?”

He shrugs, leaning against the counter. “I just thought it’d be nice to see you. You are our sweetheart, after all.”

There he goes again, being so unserious. You cross your arms over your chest, glaring at him. “Don’t bullshit with me, Gojo. I thought you hated me.”

“When did I ever say that?!”

“You didn’t have to! We’re always bickering over the simplest things. Like right now.”

“And who’s fault is that? You always get annoyed for no reason.”

“Oh, I have plenty of reasons to be annoyed by you,” you scoff, shaking your head at him. Of course your conversation would turn into another argument. 

He scratches the back of his neck, sighing. “I don’t want it to be like this.”

“What do you mean?”

“Me and you. Always at each other’s throats. You hating me.”

You stare down at your feet, heat rushing into your cheeks. “I don’t hate you.”

He steps closer, towering over you. “But you don’t like me.”

You peer up at him, defensive. “Well, do you like me?”

He smirks, eyes softening as he stares down at you. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

Ready to kick him out, you groan. “Ugh, there you go again, being such a fucking nuisance – ”

Before you can turn your back to him, he grips your wrist, pulling you in for you a kiss. His lips surround yours, warm and delicate against your mouth. “Is this a good enough answer for you?”

You don’t respond with words, but with another kiss instead, wrapping your arms around him to deepen it, tongues swirling around each other’s, desperate and needy. His hands are on your waist, thumbs brushing the plush skin of your belly. You moan into his mouth, gasping for breath. “Gojo.”

“I’ve been waiting for this,” he whispers, lifting you easily, sitting you up on the counter. He slips his fingers beneath the waistband of your pants. 

“Waiting for what?” you ask, spreading yourself for him, already anticipating his answer. 

He bites his lip, slowly sliding the fabric down your legs, revealing your pretty panties. “To be alone with you.” He spreads gentle kisses on the inside of your thighs. “To have my way with you.” He nuzzles his nose to your clothed pussy, stimulating your clit. 

“And who says I’ll let you?” you huff, pretending to be defiant. You’re already wet, arousal seeping from your slit, pussy aching for him. 

He chuckles, hooking his finger around your underwear, exposing your sopping cunt. “Just look at you, sweetheart. Already so fucking juicy for me.” He puckers his lips around your clit, sliding his middle finger inside you, curving at the tip to reach your G-spot. 

You buck your hips, core tight with pleasure, eager for more. “Fuck!”

Spreading his tongue wider, he smears his saliva over your swelling bud. “You love this, don’t you?”

Bunching his hair in your fist, you shove him deeper into your cunt, rocking yourself on his face. 

“Fuck yeah,” he muffles, eating you out sloppily. “Ride my face. Come for me.”

He sucks on your clit, finger pumping in and out of you relentlessly until you orgasm, thighs squeezed around his cheeks as you ride it out. When you’re done, he licks you clean, collecting all of your cum on his tongue to drink it up. When he surfaces, a cocky grin spread on his face, he runs his thumb along his nose and chin, getting every last drop. 

Your pants are still pooled around your ankles, so you kick them off, leaving you completely naked from the waist down. “Fuck me,” you say, rubbing your swollen clit. 

“Yeah? That wasn’t enough for you?” he teases, stripping out of his bottoms, stroking his stiff cock in his fist. “You need to be filled up, huh?”

All you can do is nod as he picks you up, wrapping your legs around his waist, carrying you into your bedroom. He kisses you, sucking on your bottom lip, kicking open the door, tossing you onto the mattress. “How do you want it? Tell me.” His cock is hard in his hand, tip glistening with precum.

“I want to ride you,” you say, hoisting your top off, quickly unhooking your bra. 

His smile widens, crawling up the bed to position himself against the headboard. “That’s exactly what I want too.”

You straddle his lap, rubbing your pussy along his shaft. He taps the tip against your clit, the lewd wet smacks driving you crazy. You guide him inside you until he bottoms out, nestling your ass comfortable onto his lap. 

“Fuck,” he moans, flicking his tongue on your nipple. “Give it to me, sweetheart. Make me come.”

You fuck him slowly at first, relishing the way his big cock fills you up. He sucks on your tits while you ride him, nipples perky between his lips. Soon, you’re fucking him faster, desperate to unravel him the way he did you. 

“Fuck, baby. Do it just like that. Don’t stop,” he whimpers, thrusting his hips in tandem with you. “Gonna make me nut so fucking hard.”

“Come for me, Gojo,” you breathe out, close to your second orgasm.

“You too,” he says, his thumb pressed to your clit. “Come with me, baby. Please.”

Pleasure ripples through your body, pussy tightening around him. He curses, shooting his load inside you, stuffing you full of his seed. He twitches beneath you, cock spurting every last pulse until he’s drained of energy and cum. You collapse on top of him, resting your face on his chest, catching your breath. 

After a brief moment of silence, the two of you listening to your own steadying heartbeats, he speaks. “Wow.”

You giggle, looking up at him. “Why didn’t we do this sooner?”

“Because it’s the first time we’ve ever been alone. Not with my brothers, not with your sisters. Just me and you. I’ve been waiting to make my move this whole time.” He smiles at you, pinching your nose playfully. 

“Well, you waited too long,” you say, cuddling him.

“Better late than never, right?” He cradles you in his arms, snuggling you sweetly. 

[theragethatisdesire]

"l’amore è cieco" - eren x reader - 18+!!!

back to the ti penso universe!!! finally!! did you guys miss it? i know i did; i am utterly obsessed with these two. i've had this sitting in my unfinished wip pile for way too long not to share.

our lovebirds have gotten the wedding all wrapped up with, so we're a solid four years past them reuniting in italy....and surprise! they're expecting!!!!! i could literally scream just writing that; the grip dad!eren has on me will never let up, i fear......anyways, this one's a little rough because i've picked it apart a thousand times and i'm just tired of editing, so you guys enjoy!!! sorry if it's not quite up to par :/

pairing: eren x reader

wc: 4k

DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. if you are a minor, please do not read below the cut.

CWs: smut, reader is pregnant, use of names (baby, mama, pretty, beautiful, etc), swearing, vaginal sex, fingering, multiple orgasms, breeding kink, lactation kink, creampie, crying, tooth-rotting fluff

title means "love is blind" in italian, per tradition w this verse <3

-

Right on schedule with your new daily, depressing routine, you stand in front of the mirror running your hands over your body, examining the recent changes. On second thought, scrutinizing might be a better word.

You’re grateful your job has allowed you to work from home for your entire pregnancy, editing articles from the journalists who can actually travel while snuggled up on your couch, but the downside of it is that you’ve had far too much time to mull on all of the ways your body has stretched and warped to accommodate the growing little girl in your stomach. You thought pregnancy was supposed to be beautiful, and sometimes it is, but more often than not, you just feel like a swollen, hormonal mess.

You “popped”, as all the mommy podcasts say, about two weeks ago, and thin stretch marks have begun to appear on your stomach. Eren calls them your “tiger stripes”, having been in full-blown cringe dad mode since the day you took the test. Bizarre cravings control you at all hours of the day, evidenced by the little black crumbs you’re picking out of your sports bra, left behind by your fourteen-Oreo breakfast today. You gaze longingly at the jewelry box on your bathroom counter; you haven’t been able to wear your wedding band in weeks, the tan line already beginning to fade from your finger. Before you can get a hold of yourself, the hormones have you in their grip, and hot, frustrated tears are spilling down your cheeks.

“Babe, have you seen that tie with the red–” Eren materializes in the doorway with absolutely no warning, as he’s prone to do, but cuts himself off at the sight of you, “baby, no, again?”

“Don’t say it like that,” you say, reluctantly allowing him to take you in his arms.

“Like what?” Eren’s voice is sweet, but hesitant. He’s been living under the constant threat of getting his head bitten off for mundane reasons because of you. It makes you feel worse, makes you shove him away and glare at him accusingly.

“Like I’m always fucking crying.” You are always crying, but you wish he would at least muster up some semblance of surprise at finding you in tears yet again. You turn away from him, wiping your face in the mirror. “Shouldn’t you be packing? Your flight leaves in like, three hours.”

“I’ll cancel,” Eren coos, stepping behind you to wrap his arms around your waist, picking your belly up in his hands.

It’s some hack he got off Tik Tok, supposed to take the weight off of your back for a precious moment, and as much as you don’t necessarily want to be touched right now, it actually helps. You’ve been alternating between thinking Eren’s overenthusiastic parenting research is adorable and mind-numbingly annoying, but for the moment, your back has stopped aching for the first time all morning, and you sigh, leaning into him.

“You can’t cancel,” you murmur, momentarily soothed, “‘s a big client. Where is it again? France?”

“I just got back from France, Miss Pregnancy Brain,” Eren chuckles, quieting immediately upon catching your lethal gaze in the mirror. “It’s just over in LA, and honestly, I could have Hitch go if you need me.”

“No, I can take care of myself, it’s just like…” a fresh wave of tears spills down your cheeks, “fuck, I don’t even know what’s wrong with me.”

Eren nods into your shoulder, letting you sniffle. It’s not a new trait, your outright refusal to ask for help, but it’s been exacerbated by your pregnancy, especially considering exactly how much help you actually need now.

You’ve taken custody of all of his sweatpants, not yet able to bring yourself to buy maternity clothes. You’d walked in sobbing and humiliated the other day because you’d peed yourself on the long elevator ride up to your apartment in front of the neighbors. You can’t sleep on your stomach anymore; Eren has to prop himself up just right beside you and sandwich you between himself and a wall of pillows to stop you from turning. You know it hurts him seeing you miserable, and you try to suck it up and enjoy the positives of pregnancy as much as you can, but you can’t muster up that strength every day.

“Hush,” Eren pulls your wet face to his chest, letting you stain the Number 1 Dad! t-shirt he had bought himself. “I’m not going.”

“Eren–”

“I’m not,” he says firmly, rubbing small circles into the bottom of your spine, “you need me here, whether you want to admit it or not.”

You grumble complacently, nuzzling into him. You do need him, as much as you want to think you can tough it out on your own. Eren’s bought book after book, not just for the baby, but for you. Most nights you find him reading titles like You’ve Made the Baby…Now What? or How to Survive Pregnancy: A Guide for Men with his feet propped up on the coffee table, a habit that, despite your efforts, you cannot nag him out of. It’s cute, honestly, how over-the-top he’s gotten with baby prep, especially when you’re often too exhausted to wrap your mind around reading a parenting guide.

“I feel ugly,” you admit quietly, sticky and snotty against his shirt. “I feel disgusting.”

“What?” Eren’s reaction is one of genuine confusion. He pushes you away from him so he can search your face, waiting patiently for you to elaborate.

“I’m gaining an obscene amount of weight, my ankles are the size of my knees, I can’t wear a single one of my rings, what am I supposed to feel like?”

Eren frowns. “Those things are supposed to happen. I read last night–”

“I don’t care!” Your voice cracks under the weight of your frustration, and you press your fingers into your eyes hard enough to see stars, trying to regain control of your temper. “I don’t care that it’s supposed to happen. It still sucks.”

“I think you’re beautiful,” Eren sounds earnest, but you scoff at him anyway.

“We’re married. You’re supposed to say that.”

“I don’t have to.”

You cock an eyebrow at him. “If you want your head to stay on your shoulders you do.”

Eren laughs at that, tugging you over to stand between his legs as he sits on the bed. “So, you’re serious? You genuinely don’t think you look good pregnant?”

“No,” you rub at your nose, “I don’t.”

Eren looks up at you, cupping your face gently. “I disagree.”

“Do you really?”

“I think you look better than ever.”

“That’s an insult to non-pregnant me,” you roll your eyes, moving to step away, but Eren holds you tight between his legs.

“It’s not,” he insists, “there’s just some things your pregnant body has that you didn’t necessarily have before. Some things that I like.”

You cock an eyebrow at him. “Cankles?”

Eren chuckles breathily, shaking his head. “I adore your cankles, but they weren't exactly the first thing that came to mind. Take these, for one thing.”

Eren presses his nose into your sports bra, hands moving up underneath to palm at your swollen tits. You let out a breathy laugh as he explores, already feeling a low heat beginning to simmer in your core. That’s one perk of entering your second trimester; your hormones might turn on a dime, but your sex drive has skyrocketed.

Eren shoves your bra up to free your tits, groaning appreciatively as he takes a nipple into his mouth, licking and sucking. You watch as he feels his way around with his mouth, humming contentedly under your breath, when suddenly, his eyes fly open and he shoots away from you.

“What?”

Eren shushes you, bringing a hand to the breast that had been in his mouth and squeezing lightly. White liquid beads on your nipple, and you cover your face in shame.

“When did that start?”

“A few days ago,” you admit, trying to push his hands off of you, cheeks burning. Eren swats you away, leaning back into your nipple, sucking harder. You can feel a small stream of milk leaving you, relieving some of the pressure in your tits; a moan rumbles deep in Eren’s chest, and you can see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows. Eren releases your nipple with a loud pop and looks up at you panting, eyes blown wide.

“Is it weird that that’s kinda hot?”

“Probably.”

“Does it hurt?”

“No,” you hum, threading your hands through his hair and urging him back to your chest, “feels good.”

That’s all Eren needs to hear, diving back into your chest with renewed vigor. As he continues, you realize it doesn’t just feel good, it actually feels incredible. You’ve always had sensitive breasts, but with the pregnancy, sensation has increased tenfold; you can feel your panties getting wetter as the weight of your full breast decreases. When Eren’s gotten all he can from your left nipple, he moves to your right, replacing his mouth on the now-abandoned nipple with his hand to twist gently at the wet skin.

The combined sensation makes your knees buckle; Eren saves you smoothly by wrapping an arm around your lower back, yanking you to him to straddle his leg. It’s the perfect angle for you to roll your hips against his thigh slowly, feeling the much-needed friction of his sweatpants against your cunt.

“Eren…” you breathe out, voice nothing more than a wisp of air.

“I know baby,” Eren speaks directly into your flesh, not willing to back away for even a moment, “feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Feels so good,” you whimper, clutching him to you with fistfuls of his hair.

“Told you this new body’s not so bad, hm?” Eren closes his teeth down on your nipple lightly; you almost keel over from the shockwave it sends through you.

You nod, rubbing yourself against his thigh faster. It’s awkward and cumbersome with your belly in the way, but it’s enough for now, enough to light your nerves on fire in that way that only Eren’s ever been able to.

“Fuckin’ ridiculous,” Eren mutters, grabbing onto your hips to help you get your rhythm right, “you’re so perfect, and you don’t even see it.”

Your fingers dig into his arms as you moan. “But my stomach–”

“But nothing,” Eren kisses you, mumbling into your mouth, “love your stomach, love your tits, love all of it. You think it doesn’t make me so fucking hard, watching you walk around with that big belly and knowing what it came from? I did that. We did that, didn’t we baby?”

“Mhm,” you bite into his shoulder, the friction on your clit through your sweatpants is getting to your head, making you dizzy. “Eren, Eren–”

“Sh sh sh,” Eren shushes you, moving so that he can look you in the eyes, “what do you need? Tell me.”

“I don’t– I don’t know, I just…” you can’t find the words, so in need of him that you can’t even decide what sounds best. His mouth? His fingers? All of it?

“Okay, okay,” Eren says quietly, standing you both up only to lay you against the pillows, “I’ve gotcha.”

He nudges his sweatpants down your legs, bringing your panties with them, spreads your legs so he can see the most intimate part of you. Eren brings his hand to your clit, rubbing tentatively, but you’re so desperate for him that it’s enough to make your back arch, a long, throaty moan ripping out of you. He lays beside you, gently playing with your clit and watching in awe at the reaction you give him, already a blubbering mess after only a few minutes.

“So sensitive, aren’t you mama?”

“Yes,” you hiss out through clenched teeth, a fresh wave of arousal flooding you at the name, “s-so sensitive. Need to cum, I need, n-need–”

“I’ll make you cum,” Eren promises, sinking a finger into you, “I’ll make you cum, baby.”

“Fuck, Eren, it’s– I can’t–”

“Feel good?”

“So fucking good,” you’re basically sobbing at this point, fingers clenched into the muscles of his bicep, clinging to him and humping his hand. You’re not sure if it’s the lack of sex over the first trimester (“What if I hit the baby’s head?” Eren had asked nervously whenever you approached him) or the rawness of the sensation against your over-sensitive body, but you’ve never been so close to your orgasm so quickly.

You don’t hold out long; Eren’s skilled with even just one finger, and before long, you’re crying out his name, gushing all over his hand. Eren presses his lips to your forehead in a sweet kiss despite having utterly destroyed you less than thirty seconds ago.

“Ready for me?”

“Sit,” you pant, pointing to the massive stack of pillows against your headboard. Eren raises his eyebrows in surprise, but does as he’s told, only pausing to pull his clothes off. The loss of the stupid dad t-shirt is a relief as much as feeling his bare chest under your hands. Due to your hormones, you’ve thrown Eren out of the house several times, and you’ve demanded to be alone enough to where his only solution is to go to the gym downstairs and work out until you’ve calmed down. It shows: his chest has grown broader and stronger, and the veins on his arms are nearly popping through the skin. “You look good.”

“Yeah?” Eren offers a shit-eating grin, flexing his bicep ever so subtly. “You should see yourself.”

“You seriously think I look good like this?” You’re straddling his hips now, rubbing your clit on his bare cock. It’s a lewd sight, his cock drooling on his abs, glistening with your cum; your cunt clenches around nothing, more than ready to be filled.

“Mhm, you look so fucking good like that,” Eren grunts, hands finding your hips again and lifting you up to sink you down on his cock, both of you letting out loud, satisfied groans, “but you look much better like this.”

You grind your hips against his, not possessing the energy to bounce your now-heavier body, but it makes you see stars. Eren rarely lets you ride him, much preferring to bend you over or pin you to the bed himself, but with your bump, you now have an excuse to hop on top of him whenever you like. It’s been close to a decade of fucking him, but the full stretch of him never fails to shock you, the way he pushes into you until you’re positive he’s in your stomach. With Eren sitting up, his cock stays firmly nestled against your g-spot, pushing little bits of squirt out of you with each movement of your hips.

“Eren–” you whimper, holding your breasts as you rock into him.

“Shit- you’re so tight like this,” Eren says through his clenched jaw, throwing his head back against the headboard, “why don’t you ride me more often?”

“You don’t let me,” you say with a watery giggle.

“Stupid,” Eren gasps, “‘m so fucking stupid.”

You’re too fucked out to voice your agreement, opting for sliding a hand down your body to flick at your clit. You can’t quite reach it around your bump, though, a discontented noise leaving your lips. Eren opens his eyes, takes notice of the way you’re hunching your back, and swats your hand away.

“I got it, I got it,” he pants, tucking his hand underneath your swollen belly to rub your clit just the way he knows you like it.

“Oh, f-fuck,” you choke out, throwing your head back.

“Good?”

“Yeah,” you hiss, “‘s perfect.”

“Take what you need, mama,” Eren’s watching you intently, a glimmer of admiration in his eye, “take what you need.”

You’re moaning pitifully, loud and wanton as Eren’s cock moves inside of you. Your cunt tightens around him desperately as the bubble building in your stomach threatens to explode.

“Think you get wetter like this, all swollen with my baby,” Eren muses, leaning forward to latch his mouth around one of your nipples where more milk has already started to pool. His words have a visceral reaction on you; you cry, tears welling in your eyes as you spiral towards your release. 

“I think–I think I’m gonna– oh fuck, don’t stop,” you croon, rocking your hips as fast as you can manage. Eren mumbles around your nipple, something about how beautiful you look, and you come undone around him, grinding your hips hard against his and cradling him to your chest. He might have a point- there’s damn near a puddle of your arousal at the base of where you’re connected, slicking up the skin on his hips and the inside of your thighs.

“Better?” Eren pulls you in for a kiss; you can feel him grinning through it.

“Maybe a little,” you admit, laughing light and watery against his mouth.

“Mmm,” Eren hums, grabbing you by the hips and lifting you only to drop you down again and turn your laughter to a quiet whimper, “not good enough. Need you to be much better.”

“Fuck me, then,” you nip at his bottom lip, earn yourself a deep groan.

“Can you— can you hold yourself up like this?” Eren scooches both of you down, albeit, a little awkwardly, so that he can lay flat on the bed. He moves you up until you’ve only got him halfway inside of you, cocking a questioning eyebrow at you.

“Yeah, I–I think so.”

“And you’re sure I’m not going to hurt–”

“Jesus Christ– no Eren, it’s fine, just– fuck,” he cuts you off with a sharp snap of his hips up into yours, grinning menacingly when your eyes roll back.

“Like that?”

“Just like that,” you moan, annoyance wiped from you with one clean stroke. Eren takes that for the green light that it is and starts pistoning his hips up into you, swearing under his breath. Even though he’d instructed you to hold yourself up, he makes good use of his new muscles, suspending you at the perfect height to feel every inch of him as he fucks up into you like his life depends on it.

“You look so fucking gorgeous like this,” Eren growls, “all swollen with my fuckin’ baby. Gonna keep you like this, give you as many as you want.”

“Eren–” you choke out, suffocating on the way he’s fucking you, his words, him. For the first time in months, you feel amazing, holding your chest and groaning long and loud as Eren thrusts up into you.

“Baby, I’m- fuck, not gonna–” Eren cuts himself off with something that sounds suspiciously close to a whimper, throwing his head back.

“Cum in me,” you pant, nodding urgently at him, “want it so bad.”

“Oh fuck,” Eren groans, hips moving impossibly faster. His fingers are digging into your hips near to the point of pain, and that little frown he makes when he’s about to cum is crumpling his face. You do want it, badly.

“Please Eren, I need it,” you gasp, legs trembling on either side of his hips.

“Fucking love you, love you so much,” Eren slurs, hips stuttering. With a long, throaty moan, he slams you down one final time, cumming deep inside of you. You grind against him as he does, moaning along with him at the familiar warmth in your belly. Exhausted, you momentarily forget about your bump and try to collapse facefirst on him- that’s enough to snap Eren out of his post-orgasm haze.

“Whoa, whoa,” Eren shoves you back upright, lifting you under your shoulders and laying you on your back, “careful.”

You wince. “Shit, sorry. Sometimes I forget. It’s still sort of new.”

“I know,” Eren agrees, eyes locked lovingly on your baby bump, “love it, though.”

“Really?”

Eren cocks a disbelieving eyebrow at you. “If that didn’t convince you, I don’t know what will.”

You giggle at that; he’s always been good at this, cheering you up and diffusing your worries like it’s second nature. After ten years, it probably is at this point.

“I don’t mean to be so down on myself, really,” you sigh, tracing a finger over where his hand’s splayed on your stomach, “it’s just…so much harder than I thought it would be.”

Eren nods thoughtfully. “That’s reasonable. But you’re so good at it.”

“I haven’t even– what?” The insecurities that you’ve been successfully masking under good natured teasing and occasional annoyance come slipping from between your lips. You’ve thought it for weeks; how Eren’s so into all the baby stuff, so enthusiastic about learning everything he can, while all you’ve managed is trying not to gag when he cooks eggs in the morning and picking out some onesies. “What about all of your books and your podcasts and crap? You’re the one doing everything.”

“That’s all I can do,” Eren scoffs, “you’re doing all the hard stuff, like carrying the baby around and puking every morning and crying all the time–”

“Hey!”

“I’m serious,” Eren shushes you, “you’re putting in all the legwork. I mean, you’re literally growing our baby. You’re a fucking rockstar mom already. If anyone’s not doing enough here, it’s me.”

That’s one thing about Eren that will never get easier; his deep, unwavering admiration for you, no matter what you’re doing. Sure, it’s endearing when Eren spins you around in his arms for something as simple as finally getting that croissant recipe to come out well, but when he’s praising you for something that’s actually difficult? It’s sweet enough to give you a cavity, warm your heart, and turn your cheeks pink all at once, even after all this time.

“Well, if you’d like to take a shift carrying her around, be my guest. She’s a chunky little thing already,” you roll your eyes, tucking your face into Eren’s ribs to mask the flush rising to your face.

“I’d do it for you if I could,” Eren sighs in faux-thoughtfulness, “but I wouldn’t look half as hot.”

You giggle furiously when he lands a slap to your ass, swatting at his chest. “God, it still doesn’t feel real, does it? A little girl that’s half you, half me.”

“It does and it doesn’t,” Eren shrugs, bringing a hand back to your stomach, “I don’t know about you, but I’ve been thinking about it since Italy.”

You gape at him. “That long?”

“You know I’m always ahead of you on this stuff,” Eren teases, squeezing your cheeks together, “knew I wanted you first, knew I wanted you back first, knew we should get married…”

“Yeah, yeah,” you roll your eyes at his bragging, “it’s just, like…are we ready? To do this?”

“This?” Eren cocks his head.

“The whole…‘parents’ thing.”

“Putting aside the fact that you're way too late to be having those kinds of thoughts,” Eren says, rubbing your lower back, “of course we’re ready. There’s no perfect parents, but I believe in us– believe in you. Gonna be the best mama any baby’s ever had, I know you will.”

“I don’t even…oh, Eren.” You’re tearing up again–damn hormones. Eren wipes at your tears, planting a big kiss on your forehead.

“I mean it. You’re going to be great, already are,” he says, smiling down at you. He holds you just like that for a few moments, letting you nuzzle into his chest, until his little grin grows wicked. “Although…the only thing I can say I am worried about is which one of us is going to accidentally teach her her first swear word. Should we bet on it?"

Even through your tears, you cock an eyebrow at him. “You and I both know that’s going to be Jean. Especially after what you taught Clara the last time we babysat.”

Eren barks out a laugh. “Hey, hearing her call Jean ‘Daddy Jackass’ was funny, and you know it!”

“Thanks for reminding me,” you smirk, “now I know what I’m teaching our little girl first.”

“No way!”

[spookyscarydemonbabe]

Tummy

A/N- i feel like i’ve been giving Eddie a little more attention with smut recently just from my NSFW alphabet series, and to be honest i’ve really been on a Gareth kick lately, so i wanted to write some smut for him 🥰 i know he deserves it 😘 plus i know for a FACT he’s got a dad bod under that vest and i want to get my hands on it 🤤 (also please let me know if the last few sentences are missing, the very last thing should be a border saying *Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated* i’ve been having a lot of issues with this recently)

⚠️Gareth has been aged up to 19⚠️

Summary- Gareth feels a bit insecure about the way he looks, but you show him how much you absolutely adore him

Genre- Fluff, smut

Warnings- Gareth feeling insecure, feelings of body dysmorphia, piv sex, oral sex (m and f receiving), body worship, mirror sex (if i’ve missed anything please let me know)

Tag List- @imagine-all-the-imagines @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @munsonology @esme-viridian @manyfandomsfanvergent

Word Count- 6.3k

You and Gareth were sat in his bed, one of his sci-fi movies playing for him as he laid his head in your lap while you were fully immersed in your book, one of your hands moving through his hair and your fingertips massaging his scalp as you turned the page.

You couldn’t be sure what movie was playing, but whatever it was, Gareth seemed to be paying close attention to it, and you didn’t mind it. As long as you were able to spend time with each other it didn’t matter to you what you were doing.

If he was happy, then you were happy.

What you didn’t know was that though on the outside he was always smiley and happy, his insecurities were getting harder and harder to cover as summer was approaching closer.

The time of year where he had to see all the other guys at the beach with their shirts off, getting stares and compliments and giggles from all the girls admiring their muscles and though he didn’t care much for the attention of other girls he didn’t know how you could pick him over a guy like that.

He didn’t have a six pack or even a flat stomach, he didn’t have the strength that they had, he didn’t have their sharp features. He had extra skin on his tummy, a round face, and he was nothing compared to the guys he saw in all those movies.

You were brought out from the fantasy world of your book when you heard a sigh come from Gareth as he laid with you, though this was different than just a normal sigh. It was shaky, and you knew that there was something that was upsetting him. You closed your book and set it onto the nightstand, looking down at his as your hand brushed back the hair back out of his face,

“What’s wrong?”

Gareth’s eyes peeked up to you before shrugging and going back to the TV screen,

“Nothings wrong.”

“Don’t lie to me.” You moved him to sit him up and look at you, your hand going to hold his cheek and seeing the look of pain in his eyes, “You know i know you better than you know yourself, and i know when you’re lying.” Your thumb brushed over his cheek, “Tell me what’s wrong my love, i know that there’s something bothering you.”

He sighed again and looked into your eyes, and he knew that you were worried for him. He knew you hated to see him upset.

“Why do you like me?”

You were taken back by his question,

“What do you mean? I like you for tons of reasons! You’re sweet and you’re funny and you’re smart, you’re always so considerate of my emotions and my feelings and whenever i’m feeling upset or having a bad day you always go out of your way to make me feel better. Not to mention the fact that i haven’t touched a door or had to pull out a chair since our first date. You know why i like you, why are you asking?”

He looked down at his hands in his lap and shrugged again,

“I don’t know i just…” He hesitated for a moment before looking back up into your eyes, “You could have anyone you wanted, you could’ve gotten a guy who looks better and treats you better and doesn’t…” He stopped before saying anything more, but you knew he couldn’t keep things in like that, especially if they were hurting him this much.

“Doesn’t what?”

“Doesn’t…” He looked down to his lap once again, “Look like me.”

He was hurt, and seeing him like this hurt you more than anything else in the world.

“Gare look at me,” Your other hand went to cup his other cheek and turned his face up to look at you, bringing him close to you and gently kissing him before resting your forehead onto his, “I love you for you. If i didn’t then i wouldn’t be with you and you know that. Why is this on your mind, what’s going on?”

His eyes wandered yours for a moment before taking a deep breath and deciding that it would be easier to just come clean instead of hiding it to you,

“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. About me, about us, about the way that you look and the way that i look…” You could hear the hurt in his voice.

You knew that Gareth had his insecurities just like everyone else but if it was getting to him like this than it was worse than you ever thought it was, especially if it came to your relationship.

Your hands went around his neck and you slowly moved yourself into his lap, straddling his waist with your chest pressed up to his. You leaned in and softly kissed him, feeling his hands move to hold onto your thighs as you were sat in his lap. He loved having you close to him, but each and every time you were close to one another he was always the one making you feel beautiful.

His hands would wander your body and leave no part of your skin untouched, his lips would leave trails of kisses up and down each of your appendages until there was no where left for him to kiss, he would whisper sweet nothings mixed in with breathy gasps and moans each time he thrusted into you. He always did everything he could to make you feel gorgeous, even with all your insecurities, and now it was your turn.

It was your turn to make him feel beautiful.

“Gare, look at me.” You tilted his chin up and forced him to look into your eyes, “i love you. I love all of you. And i know that you might think badly of the way that you look but can i be honest with you?”

He nodded and you smiled, your hands slowly moving down over his chest to the hem of his shirt, your fingertips grazing the soft skin underneath it before taking the hem between your fingertips and slowly lifting it up. The backs of your fingers making sure to stay pressed against his skin as you lifted his shirt up over his head, his hands moving away from your thighs to help you lift it over his head and your pressed yourself up against him again, leaning your head down to slowly kiss just below his ear,

“Nothing gets me hotter than seeing you without that shirt on baby.”

You could feel him tense up just a bit as you kept kissing over his neck, your arms wrapping around him to pull him in closer to you, his hands moving to hold onto the back of your thighs. You lifted your lips away from his neck and looked back up to his face, seeing the bright red blush that was dusted over his cheeks.

You giggled seeing his lips curl into a smile,

“I mean it!” You put your hands to his shoulders and gently pushed back, laying him down on his bed as you still sat up in his lap, your hands moving down from his shoulders to over his chest and finally resting on the soft skin of his tummy, “You might think that every girl wants some body builder type of guy who’s got abs and all that but all i want is you Gare. Besides…” You smiled down at him and placed a few gentle kisses onto his lips before pulling your shirt up over your head, reaching behind your back and undoing the clasp on your bra, tossing it away before leaning down onto him. Your hands were on either side of his head and your soft chest was pressed against his, the plush skin of his tummy resting beneath yours, “there’s just more of you for me to love pretty boy.”

You heard a few whimpers escape his lips as your lips went to kiss over his collarbone and moved down to his chest, one of your hands moving from the side of his head to slowly and softly trail over his body, making sure to feel every curve of his skin. His hands were gripped tightly on the back of your thighs and you knew that when he was flustered and trying to keep his composure he would be frozen in place and that’s exactly how you wanted him.

You wanted him to be under you, whimpering and whining with each kiss and touch you gave to him, He was always so sensitive when you put him in his subspace but he loved being submissive for you more than anything. He loved it when you made him feel small.

He was always so used to being the one on top. Being the person who was making you feel good and making you feel beautiful but you knew that now it was his time to feel beautiful. And you wouldn’t stop until he could see how beautiful he was in your eyes.

Every part of him was mouthwatering.

His shaggy curls that were always so soft between your fingers, his light blue eyes that always looked so lovingly into yours, his perfect smile that always made you smile back at him whenever you saw him, his big strong arms that held you so tightly whenever you were snuggling in bed, his soft hands that loved to hold yours whenever he had the chance to. Every part of him was so soft and sweet and perfect, and you weren’t kidding about how he made you feel whenever you saw him without his shirt on.

He was everything you wanted in a man and more.

And being able to have him all to yourself was the best feeling in the world.

Your hands were slowly moving along the soft skin of his torso, watching as your fingers gently sunk into it as you pressed them further into him, smiling each and every time you heard a little whimper leave his lips,

“Are you alright Gare?” You asked him with a giggle, “You’re not getting nervous are you?”

He shook his head and laughed, trying his best to not show you how hard he was having to hold himself back from begging you to ride him as you were sat comfortable on his lap, grinding into him.

“You’re sure?” You giggled again, leaning down and pecking his lips, feeling him start to tremble beneath your touch, “You’re starting to act like you did when we first started dating. You remember how you used to act around me?”

His hands were slowly moving up and your thighs, carefully working their way up to hold your waist as he slowly shook his head.

“No? God, you were so cute!” You moved one hand up to hold his cheek as you kissed him, the other staying just above his heart, feeling each soft beat through his chest, “You were so nervous to be around me, so scared you were going to do something or say something that would mess up our first few dates and you were so shy too!” You moved your body down just a bit to lay over him, your head resting on his shoulder as his hands stayed planted on your hips, your hands moving around his neck to hold him close, “How come you’re all nervous now handsome?”

“I don’t know… I just…” He sighed and you lifted yourself off of him for just a moment, laying next to him in bed and gently holding his cheek in your hand, “I just feel like you should be with someone like that. I don’t know why i get like this, but i just start to feel insecure about how i look and then i feel like you deserve someone better looking than me, no one wants me.”

To hear how Gareth really felt about himself was heartbreaking. You loved him more than anyone else in the world, and all you wanted was for him to see how beautiful you thought he was.

You looked to him and your thumb gently stroked his cheek, thinking about how you could really make him see how much you loved him.

And your lips curled into a smile as soon as you thought of the perfect thing.

You quickly got up from his bed and wandered over to the corner of his room where he kept a floor length mirror. You slowly and carefully moved it in front of the TV at the end of his bed and have gave you a strange look as you walked in front of it and smiled at your reflection.

“What’s this for?”

“You’ll see.” You turned to him with a smile and reached your hands out to pull him closer to you, making him sit at the edge of his bed as you held his hands in yours.

“I think i know how to make you feel better about how you look baby.”

“Yeah? How’s that?” He smiled as you moved your arms around his neck, straddling his waist as his hands went to your hips to help keep you supported.

You kissed him and pressed your body up against his, your lips trailing down from his lips to his jawline to his neck and finally to just below his ear,

“You’re gonna watch how good you make me feel…”

You felt him shudder as you whispered to him taking his hands and placing them onto your breasts, feeling him start to get a bit more confidence and lightly squeeze them.

You giggle and quickly get off of his lap, pulling him closer to the edge of his bed, his legs hanging off the end as you stand before him. He watches as you slowly undo the button and zip on your shorts, pulling them down your thighs, tossing them away onto his floor.

Seeing you exposed like this in front of him was enough to make him drool, his eyes wandering over your soft skin, not being able to stop and admire one part of you at a time. He wanted to take in all of you at once.

His eyes went wide as you kneeled before him, your hands going to the button on his jeans, and as you caught him staring you placed your fingers on his chin and tilted his head back up,

“No baby, look in the mirror…” You smiled as you pulled down his jeans and boxers, his hard pink cock sprung free and you could tell he was blushing, he always did when he was naked around you, “You’re gonna watch me make you feel good.”

He nodded down at you as you wrapped your hand around him, slowly pumping up and down as you placed a few soft kisses to the head. You smirked and bit your lip as you looked up at him.

His cheeks were pink, his chest heaving, his lips slightly parted and his eyes were struggling to stay open.

You loved making him feel good.

You started to pump your hand faster, hearing him groan as you tightened your grip around him.

He watched himself in the mirror and being able to see you from the opposite side, focusing all your energy on making him feel good, was definitely giving him a bit of an ego boost. And he had never been able to see himself in this state before, but he had to admit, he liked it.

He liked being able to see how good you made him feel.

You bit your lips as you smiled, peeking up at him as you started to pump your hand faster and faster, gripping it tighter as you saw his fingers start to claw at the bedsheets beneath him. You dipped your head down and gave his swollen head a few gentle licks, looking up and seeing his eyes nearly roll into the back of his head only encouraged you further.

As you slowly slid your lips down his length, he let out a slow groan through his gritted teeth, but his next move surprised you.

He placed his hand gently on top of your head before shouting,

“Stop!”

You did as he said, quickly removing your mouth from him and placing your hands to his thighs, looking up to his face for any sign of discomfort.

“What is it? Are you ok, did i do something wrong?”

He shook his head and looked down at you with a smirk on his lips, leaning down to place a kiss onto your forehead,

“No no baby, you didn’t do anything wrong. I just want to be able to make you feel good too,” He smiled down at you before leaning over and placing a gentle kiss to your lips, “stand up and lay down for me. Please?”

You giggled and did as he said, laying down backwards on his bed and laying your head over the edge as he moved back to make some more room for you,

“Aww Gare, even when we’re dirty you’re still so sweet.”

He smiled as he crawled over your body, his hands resting on either side of your head as they gripped the edge of the bed, his body pressed up against yours and his skin felt so soft and warm. You loved having him on top of you.

He tilted his head down and kissed you gently, trailing his lips down your jawline, staying attached to your neck for a moment. He found your sweet spot and a gentle moan escaped your lips as you tilted your head back over the edge of his bed, looking into the mirror.

One of your hands was around his back while the other was placed gently on the back of his head, ruffling his soft curls as his lips stayed on your neck.

You gasped gently as you felt him start to move himself lower, placing a trail of kisses on each spot on your body that he passed. Over your collarbone and down the valley of your breasts, down your tummy and just above the lace lining of your panties before sitting up on his knees and looking down at you.

You tilted your head up to look at him once more and he carefully hooked his fingers through the sides of your underwear,

“Can i?”

You blushed and slowly nodded, watching as he leaned down and pressed one last kiss to your clothed core before slipping your panties down over your legs and tossing them aside.

He laid himself down in bed, his head between your thighs as he helped move your legs over his shoulders. He gently held your thighs as he dipped his head down and placed a few gentle kisses before licking a long slow stripe over your folds.

Your tilted your head back over the edge of his bed and one of your hands found it’s way back into his curls, the other gripping the bedsheets beside you as you clenched your eyes shut, getting lost in the pleasure of his lips and tongue as he moved them slowly and so sweetly.

He slowly moved one hand from your thigh, reaching up and grasping onto your hand that was gripping the bedsheets, intertwining your fingers together as his other hand was still gripped onto the soft flesh of your thigh.

The sound of his name gently escaping your lips in between each moan was only encouraging him further, moving his tongue over you faster as he felt you start to grind your hips along to the movements of his lips.

It was only when he glanced up into the mirror that he understood exactly why you wanted to use it.

Seeing you there, your cheeks flushed, a look of pure pleasure plastered across your face as you were laid over his bed. And he was the one making you feel this way. Making those pretty faces and letting out all those pretty sounds were all because of him, and he wanted more.

His face pressed deeper between your legs, pinning your hips to the bed as he circled his tongue over your clit, wanting to hear just how loud he could make you. He could feel your hand grip his curls tighter, and though the feeling of your nails in his scalp hurt, knowing that he was the one making you feel this way felt so much better. As your moans and cries became longer and higher pitched he could tell that you were getting close.

Your thighs were wrapped tightly around the sides of his head, doing your best not to suffocate him as his face was buried into your pussy. He didn’t plan on stopping until he made you finish.

With one last long slow luck to your folds, he felt your body tense up and watched in the mirror as your back arched, your hands gripping his hair and holding tightly onto his own as you let out a loud, almost pornographic moan. His hands let go of your own and moved to hold your thighs once more, slowly petting over the soft skin as you came down from your high.

Your chest was heaving, your face was red, and he could feel your body slowly start to relax as your thighs loosened their hold from around his neck. He made sure to never take his hands off of you, moving them slowly and softly over your thighs and tummy as you caught your breath, your hand moving back into his hair and combing gently through his curls as he licked you clean.

Your legs twitched each time you felt his tongue move through your folds to lap up your juices, still so sensitive to his touch. He gave one last gentle kiss to your clit before slowly sitting himself up, smiling down at you as he crawled over your body, kissing his way up your neck and back to your lips. You giggled as he pulled away, the taste of you still lingering on his tongue.

He smiled down at you, looking over your body once more before his eyes moved back up to yours, sighing in bliss as he saw how gorgeous you looked beneath him. Your soft body relaxed beneath him, your hands gently clinging onto him, your cheeks still had a gentle glow to them from your orgasm and all he wanted to see was that beautiful glow all over you.

He leaned down once more and softly kissed you before his lips trailed down to your neck, but you moved your hands to his shoulders and gently pushed him back,

“No, no baby, don’t you remember?” He moved his lips off of your neck and looked back down to you.

“Remember what angel?”

You giggled and pecked his lips, slowly pushing him off of you, “This is about you handsome, not me.” You groaned as your body adjusted to movement once more, crawling over and opening the drawer on his bedside table and pulling out a condom.

Gareth leaned back on his elbows and you shut the drawer, watching as you crawled back over to him, one hand on his chest to slowly push him to lay back,

“Now it’s your turn to lay back baby, let me make you feel good.”

Gareth blushed and did as you told him, laying himself back as you did before, his head back over the edge of the bed to give him a perfect view of himself in the mirror. He watched for a moment as you straddled his legs, positioning yourself just above his cock and teasing your entrance at his tip.

He let out a shaky breath, slowly tilting his head back but keeping his eyes open, watching you in the mirror as you toyed and teased him.

You slowly moved your hands up and down his chest and torso, soothing him as you did your best to tease him as slowly as you could, wanting him to be able to enjoy every single thing you were doing to him,

“Just watch baby, ok?” He stated at your body in the mirror, his lips parting and his eyes trying to keep themselves open as he watched you slowly slide down onto him in the mirror, his hands moving to carefully hold your thighs, “I want you to see how desperate i am for you…”

Gareth watched himself in the mirror as you told him and he wasn’t entirely sure if it should be you or himself that he was looking at.

He could clearly see how good you were making him feel. His hair brushed back, waving down with a few strands still stuck to his forehead from sweat. His cheeks were still red, from a combination of his exhaustion from going down on you and his own embarrassment. He knew he should be watching himself like you told him to but it was impossible for him to keep his eyes off of you in his lap.

You were straddling him and gently gliding your folds over his cock, teasing him as much as you could to help him feel more comfortable, especially from wanting to try something new. He watched your chest heaving and your breasts carefully moving with each breath as your hands were placed so gently on his stomach, your fingers pressing into the soft flesh of his tummy to help keep yourself grounded. You didn’t want to lose yourself this early.

You slowly moved your hands over his stomach and up to his chest, carefully laying yourself over him, making Gareth glance up at you from his position on the bed. He looked into your eyes as you smiled to him, brushing back the few strands of hair that were stuck to his forehead before giving him a gentle kiss,

“Are you ready?”

You asked him with eager eyes, but all Gareth could do was smile bashfully and nod to you.

You slowly tilted his head back over the bed as you crawled your way back down his body, straddling his hips once more and moving your hand between your legs, your fingertips grazing over his cock as you guided it to your entrance, still dripping wet with the mixture of your own slick and Gareth’s saliva.

You waited until you saw he was watching in the mirror once more and took a deep breath before slowly sliding yourself down onto his tip.

His hands gripped your thighs as he felt you carefully slide onto him, his eyes almost squinting shut from the pleasure, though he knew it would be so much more than this once he was fully sheathed inside you.

You let out a soft groan as you adjusted to his size, making sure to keep a steady pace as you slid down onto him, making sure not to make yourself too overwhelmed with the sensations around you. Gareth beneath you, his hands holding tightly onto you, his thick cock stretching you as you slid down onto him, his soft flesh between your fingers.

Everything was so intoxicating, and it had only just started.

Once you could feel Gareth’s full length inside of you, you had to stay sat on his lap for a moment, adjusting to his size and to make sure he was alright beneath you before you started moving. You took a deep breath and moved both hands to his stomach, slowly and gently moving your fingers up and down his torso to wherever they could possibly reach.

“I’m going to move…” You told him as you got yourself into a comfortable position above him, ensuring that you wouldn’t stop until you could feel him fill the condom as it laid so deeply in you, “are you ok?”

Gareth nodded once more and as soon as you saw the corners of his lips turn into a small smile you knew it was your queue to start moving.

You took one last deep breath and slowly started to move, setting a slow and gentle pace as you got comfortable above Gareth.

As he felt you start moving he couldn’t help but let out a long groan.

He loved the feeling of you being on top of him. Setting the pace, controlling him as much as you pleased, being able to look up at your pretty pink cheeks as he felt a wave of pleasure coat his thighs as your hands gripped onto him as you finished, but being able to watch himself was an entirely new experience.

He could not only see you, but he could see himself, and as he saw you slowly moving on top of him he couldn’t take his eyes away from the little bit of space between your legs. He was watching you fuck him and it felt nothing like anything he had ever experienced before.

Like he wasn’t supposed to. Like he was seeing it through another person’s eyes. And it was so naughty, he didn’t know why the idea hadn’t come to him sooner.

He watched as you rode him in the mirror, your head tilted back, eyes shut, face red, mouth open moaning out his name each chance you could. Every time you were on top of him it felt like it was the very first time.

Gareth could feel your legs start to tremble and as you slowed your pace he knew exactly what was coming. He knew that as much as you loved being on top of him, you couldn’t help but start to get exhausted from the amount of work you were putting in. But he never let that stop your fun.

He tilted his head up to look back at you in his lap and moved his hands from your thighs to your waist, and as you felt his fingers move up your body you opened your eyes to him once more.

“It’s alright… come here,” Gareth pulled you down on top of him, your hands holding onto the edge of the bed next to his head as his arms held you tightly, “it’s my turn to take care of you…”

Your arms moved to wrap around Gareths neck as he thrusted up into you, holding you so tightly and yet still being so gentle with you. He slowly found his rhythm, thrusting deep up into you as he listened to your moans, waiting until he heard that high pitched squeal he loved to let him know that he was hitting the right spot.

The moment he felt your hands gripping into his curls he knew he was ready to make you cum. Especially in his absolute favorite position.

You laying over him, arms wrapped around one another as he thrusted into you, hearing your moans ring out in his ear.

His arms wrapped around your back and kept you still as he quickened his pace, slamming into you from underneath. The overwhelming feeling of every one of your senses being overcome by Gareth was enough to make you cum.

You could hear all of his grunts and groans from each and every thrust.

You could taste the sweat on his neck each time your lips reached out to kiss him.

You you feel his strong arms wrapped around you as he kept you still while he was fucking himself into you.

You saw stars after every time he hit your sweet spot.

And the room all around you smelled of pure lust.

You never wanted this pleasure to end but you could feel yourself getting closer and closer to release. You did your best to try and say something, anything, just to get anything out other than moans but it felt near impossible,

“…Gare… I-“

“Are you gonna cum for me angel?” Gareth cut you off and slowed his pace, wanting to hear your voice tell him exactly what you needed,

“Tell me pretty girl, i need to hear you say it.”

You carefully tilted your head up away from his neck, your hands moving to hold his cheeks as you kissed him slow and deep, wanting him to be able to feel how much you still loved and adored him, even through all the pleasure.

“Please, Gareth, make me cum…”

Gareth leaned his head up and kissed you gently, moving his hands to get a good grip on your hips as he picked up his pace once more, pounding into you as fast as he could go.

Your arms wrapped around him once more, your head going back into the crook of his neck, littering it with light kisses just to keep yourself still grounded as he brought you close and closer to the edge.

Your legs held onto him tighter, your nails clawed into his shoulder, and you had to keep yourself from biting into his shoulder as he hit your sweet spot one last time before you came, your thighs getting sticky and wet after they were coated with your pleasure. Soon after, Gareth slowed his thrusts as his hands gripped your hips, his head tilting back as he moaned out in ecstasy as he filled the condom while still buried deep inside you.

He held you there for a moment, wanting to relish in the aftereffects of your lovemaking.

Your limbs loosening their grip on one another, the feeling of each other’s chests raising as you caught your breath, the careful kisses you gave one another to show that you were alright. It was his favorite part.

Gareth moved his hands from your hips to around your back, one moving into your hair and slowly moving his fingers along your scalp,

“God, i love you…” He got no response from you, usually meaning you needed some more time to recollect yourself from the overwhelming sensation of finishing with such force, “Do you want to lay with me for a minute?”

You nodded carefully and Gareth pressed another kiss to your temple,

“I’m going to pull out ok? And then i’m going to move us to lay back against the headboard, is that alright?” He stayed still until he felt you gently nod once more, making sure to be careful as he slowly pulled out from between your legs, hearing a groan from you as the emptiness between your thighs started to feel foreign from having him buried there for so long.

Gareth then carefully adjusted your bodies on the bed, being sure to move slow as he turned you to lay your heads against his pillows. As you lay there together, you found yourself moving back closer into him, your arm draping across his stomach and your head pressing to his chest, listening to his heartbeat. It was so calming, so comforting. It was just what you needed after the last hour of passion you had just endured together.

He smiled down at you once more and pressed another sweet kiss to your forehead, looking down at your bodies as you lay in his bed, his eyes focusing on your arm draped over the soft flesh of his stomach,

“You really love my tummy don’t you?”

“Of course i do…” You slowly moved your hand up and down over his skin, “like i said, more of you for me to love…”

He laughed to himself as you snuggled further into him,

“You know… As much as i don’t want to like the way that i look, you always manage to make me feel so much better about it.” He tilted your chin up and placed a soft, gentle kiss to your lips, earning a smile from you as you finally caught your breath, “Thank you my angel.”

You smiled up at him once more and his arm wrapped around your shoulder, holding you close to him and admiring the softness and warmth of your bodies pressed together.

“Five more minutes of snuggles, and then i’ll clean us up ok?” He asked you, and you nodded once more in response.

Gareth was always so wonderful when it came to aftercare. He was someone who was such a sweetheart to you outside the bedroom, still so nervous to ask if he could hold your hand and he still blushed when you leaned up to kiss him, and he was an absolute beast in the sheets. But he knew that if he wanted to see you writhing in pleasure for him, he would need to be the one to help you afterwards, and he never once complained about it.

He’d always get up slowly, give you a kiss and leave to his bathroom to clean himself up and grab a warm rag and a glass of water for you, sometimes even a snack if he was up for it. He’d walk back into his room and help you sit up, handing you the glass of water for you to sip as he moved the rag over your body, wiping away whatever was left behind of your lovemaking. He was always so gentle.

You barely noticed it when he slipped out from beneath you, and as your eyes gently peeked open you watched as he was leaning over you, placing his lips to your forehead,

“I’ll be right back, ok angel?”

You held his cheek and brought him close to you for one more kiss before he slowly made his way to the bathroom.

He stopped himself as soon as he looked at his body

in the mirror and took a step back to look at it once more. His eyes moved up and down his figure and he turned to the side to see his stomach, his hand carefully running across it with a smile on his face before he looked to you once more and left his bedroom.

You did exactly what you planned on doing to Gareth.

You made it so much easier for him to love himself.

You made him feel beautiful again.

[skz317cb97]

Drunk Confessions pt 4

Changbin x Female reader

Word count: 1.6k

Synopsis: After the worst day of your life you drink with your friend Changbin and the truth serum that is tequila betrays you.

A/N: 18+ ONLY! Here's part 4 guys! Had some stuff happen hopefully I'll be able to get some writing done still but please be patient if the last few take a bit to be posted! I hope you enjoy this one! Warning's and smut below the cut!

Warning: 18+ ONLY MDNI! Cursing/strong language, Mentions of drinking/over drinking/being drunk, mentions of vomit. That's it! If I missed something please let me know and I'll add it to the warnings

Your morning didn’t start out the greatest. Your roommate had used all the hot water so it was a cold shower for you. Then you decided breakfast was a must, that was until you burnt it and realized you were running behind. No problem, skip breakfast for one day. At least you have your coffee.  

Had. Not only did you drop your coffee, it was hot and you dropped it in your lap. Then as you were trying to sop up the burning hot liquid you ran over something in the road that flattened your tire. Just as you got out to inspect the flat God decided comedy was his forte and it started to rain. Hard. It took you forty five minutes to finally get your tire completely changed, no one stopping to ask if you needed help. Chivalry was dead.  

You finally made it to work, very late. Towards the end of your day, you were called into your boss's office. You stood there still wet from the morning, a coffee stain on your slacks, utterly dumbfounded as he explained cut backs and how your position was being terminated due to downsizing. You walked back out into the rain and got into your car to go home and crawl into bed. You turned your key in the ignition. Click. Nothing. You tried again. Click click. Nothing! You banged your hands against the steering wheel and screamed. 

“FUUUUUCK!!!” You pulled out your phone. You would call Cam, the guy you had been talking to and see if he could come get you, but he ghosted you recently. There was only one person you could truly depend on. You clicked the number and put the phone up to your ear. 

“Hey y/n what’s up” You started crying immediately once you heard Changbin’s voice. 

“Changbin I’ve had the worst day of my life and my car won’t start, can you come pick me up from the office?” He shushed you. 

“Hey hey it’s okay it’s okay. I can come get you. What time are you off?” You sniffled. 

“Now, they fired me.” Changbin was surprised to hear that. You had a good work ethic, a place like that should feel lucky to have had you working for their company.  

“Okay I’m on my way now alright? Just hold tight for a minute, okay?” You wiped your eyes and sniffled again. 

“Okay Binnie.” He smiled hearing you call him that nick name. 

“I’ll be there before you know it. See you soon.” You hung up with Changbin and sat in your car in the rain and dwelled on all the bad shit that had happened to you that day. It wasn’t long before Changbin was knocking on your car window, umbrella in hand. 

“You ordered a knight in shining armor?” You forced a smile. 

“Thanks Bin I owe you one.” He shook his head. 

“Don’t worry about it. Just happy to help.” You both quickly made your way through the rain and got into Changbin’s car. Once you were inside and out of the weather he turned to you. 

“Hey! Why don’t you come over to mine and have a sleep over. We haven’t done that in forever.” You debated it. The reason it had been a while was because of your inconvenient crush on Changbin which was the only reason you had even been talking to that dick Cam that ghosted you. You had been trying to forget about the man you actually had feelings for. You almost decided against it but you’d had such a shit day, you deserved to go and hang out with your friend. Feelings or not. You asked the most important question at that time. 

“Can we drink?” He smirked and shook his head. 

“Absolutely.” You buckled up. 

“Then onward.” You pointed towards the road. Changbin put the car into gear and you both drove off towards his place. When you got to his, the rain had started to let up. You both still got inside quickly and Changbin immediately went to grab you some of his sweats and a hoodie so you could change out of your wet clothes. As soon as you pulled the hoodie that smelled of Changbin’s cologne on over your head your nerves started to calm. You still wanted a drink though, so when you joined Changbin again in the living room you went straight to his liquor cabinet. 

“You weren’t joking about drinking huh?” You laughed spitefully. 

“Changbin if you had hard drugs, I’d do them at this point.” He shook his head. 

“Well there’s only booze, so pick your poison.” You scanned the liquor cabinet until your eyes landed on a fresh bottle of silver tequila, not the cheap stuff either. Never with Changbin. No this was top shelf. You turned to him. 

“Anything?” He nodded. 

“Yea pick whatever it’s fine, you’re spending the night. What do you see?” 

“Tequila.” Changbin laughed. 

“You weren’t kidding about the hard drugs huh?” You looked at him incredulously and he put his hands up in defense. 

“Tequila is fine with me; I’ll go grab the limes and salt shaker.” While you grabbed the bottle Changbin got the fixins. When Changbin came back he brought shot glasses as well as the limes and salt, he caught you taking a sip from the bottle already. 

“I thought we could be civilized and drink from these tonight.” You wiped your lips. 

“Sorry just tasting.” He handed you the shot glasses and opened the tupperware of sliced limes he kept in the fridge for just such an occasion, while you poured a couple of shots. Changbin couldn’t help but watch your mouth as you ran your tongue over the back of your hand to make the salt adhere. He found it hard to not look at your lips often. When he wasn’t looking at them, he thought about them. You were his friend he shouldn’t think about such things but it wasn’t just sexual for him. He thought about how kind you were, how much you made him laugh, and your lips. He snapped out it when you went to hand him his shot. 

“Cheers.” You said before tapping his shot glass then the table as you licked the salt from your hand. You shot back the tequila and bit the lime you had in hand. Changbin followed suit licking the salt, taking the shot, and biting the lime. You went to pour two more. 

“Okay speed racer slow down we have all night.” He laughed and you tapped his glass then the table taking another shot. 

“I just want to get my buzz going.” Changbin took his shot. 

“Okay but don’t make yourself sick okay I’m not good with vomit.” You laughed and started to pour two more shots. 

“I can handle my booze Mr. Seo now bottoms up!” You tapped his glass and then the table, licked the salt took the shot bit the lime. Usually you could handle your booze but with no breakfast and a light lunch it was hitting you harder than normal. A couple of hours went by and you and Changbin were laughing, telling stories, talking about anything other than your terrible day and drinking, you a bit more than him. Changbin had tapped out after a few shots knowing his limits. You tapped your shot against his forehead and laughed, then down on the table before forgetting the salt altogether and shooting the tequila, then chomping down on another lime. 

“You know whaat?” You slurred pointing at Changbin. 

“You’re drunk as fuck.” You nodded lazily. 

“Yesss but d’you know what else?” Changbin shook his head. 

“T’day was the worst day of my life, I had t’take a cold shower, I b’rnt my breakfist, I spilled my coffeeee, got a flat tire, got rained on, got fired, and my car wou’dn’t start, Cam hasn’t respondedd to ‘ny of my calls or texts for over a week and he was supposed to keep me distracted from bein’ in love with you and you not loving me too is the worst part of the whole day!” You started to cry and Changbin hugged you tightly as you sobbed into his chest and he comforted you.  

“Oh no no don’t cry, you’re wrong.” You sobbed and looked at him like he was stupid. 

“No I'm not all that happened today Bin!” He pulled you back into his hug shushing you. 

“Yea but that last thing. You’re wrong.” You looked at him again. You were confused still, too drunk for your own good. Changbin should have made you stop two shots ago. 

“I do love you y/n. I just didn’t know you felt the same and didn’t want to ruin what we had.” Your expression was frozen and then your eyes went wide. Changbin shook his head knowingly. 

“I’m gonna be sick!” You yelled 

“Oh. OH! Bathroom quick!” He yelled back. You slapped your hands over your mouth and Changbin helped you stumble to the bathroom. You made it to the toilet just in time and Changbin held back your hair as you evacuated your stomach. When you finally stopped you looked over your shoulder at Changbin. 

“I thought you weren’t good with vomit.” He shrugged his shoulders. 

“You needed me.” Your eyes got big and glassy.  

“Did you really mean it when you said you love me too?” Changbin nodded. 

“And I threw up oh god I’m so sorry Binnie.” He laughed a little. 

“Not the reaction I was hoping for but it’s okay. I’ll confess again tomorrow when you’ll remember. We’ll save our first kiss for then too. After you’ve sobered up and brushed your teeth a couple times.” You laughed nodding. 

“Deal. I should probably lay down.” You rinsed your mouth with some mouthwash and Changbin helped you to the guest room. He made sure to leave water and Tylenol by the bed then he sat on the edge and pushed some stray hair out of your face.  

“Sleep well. I love you.” Your eyes got heavy you were almost out. 

“I love you too Bin.” His heart nearly exploded finally getting to hear you say it back.  

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[beyonddmythoughtssworld]

So idk if you write for Pope (but he’s very underrated and my fav, if you don’t then could you do this for rafe?)

A Pope fic where you and Pope haven’t had sex for a while for some reason (like maybe one of you were sick or on vacation or just busy) and when you guys finally have alone time together and you guys are making out and he goes to undress you, you remember that you haven’t shaved/waxed recently and you’re like “wait no stop” and of course he gets worried he did something wrong and you were uncomfortable with something and you’re like “no nothing like that I just haven’t had time to shave” and he’s just like “🤨 okay?” And you’re like “so we should probably stop, I can still help you out though” and he’s just like “why does that matter” cause he’s just dumbfounded that you would think that is important to him

i'm grown | pope heyward x reader

Summary: Pope is highly offended that you think he would care about something so trivial.

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: 18+ content, smut, fingering, missionary, eating out, insecure!reader, light spanking, doggystyle

A/N: Pope is most definitely underrated so this was fun to write cause I do have a special place in my heart for that man💕

You moan into Pope’s mouth as you walk him back into the bed. He grabs your waist to pull you down with him as he falls clumsily, causing the two of you to laugh. You move to straddle his hips, leaning over him with a smile.

Pope grins back as he brings his fingers to push your hair out of your face, meeting you halfway to push his lips against yours in a less rushed manner. You had to remind yourselves that you had time; something you haven’t had a lot of lately. In fact, it’s been almost a month since you’ve had any quality time.

If Pope wasn’t working, you were; and with the free time you two did have it was spent around the Pogues where there isn’t really much privacy or lack of interruptions. The two of you were going insane.

Not even due to just a lack of sex, but the quality time you were missing out on. Being able to talk for hours about the most random, bizarre topics. Binge watching movie series over and over to catch the things you missed. You’d been dating for over a year, so it’s not far off to say you guys like being around each other.

The sex was just a really, really good bonus.

When you snuck over to see him after a late shift, falling asleep almost instantly, Pope woke up this morning with one saying on his mind. Desperate times call for desperate measures. So, he called in sick for you, told the Pogues not to call unless it was an absolute emergency, and sent his parents off to an early brunch with only minor setbacks. No one would be within a ten mile radius, which was perfect for him.

The two of you continue to make out slowly, pulling away so he can sit up to take his shirt off. Pope talks as he does so, something he does often that you find cute. It’s always a small conversation, even between rounds of sex he just wants to ask you how your day was.

“Did you sleep well?”

You giggle as he lays back down, hands grasping the sides of your neck lightly to bring you down with him into a soft kiss. Running your hands down his chest to his stomach, Pope shivering against your fingertips, you begin to lightly grind onto him.

“Yeah,” You hum against his lips. “You kept taking the blanket though.”

“I’ll get two for tonight.”

He grabs your ass in his hands, guiding your movements against him as he starts to harden in his boxers. You palm his bulge, causing Pope to groan as his hips raise. He asks you between small pecks, “‘Move to the top of the bed?”

You nod, moving to the top of the bed and laying down. Pope follows, hovering over you with his hands on either side of your head. Your hands come out to touch his waist as he presses himself against you, wrapping your legs loosely around his.

Pope’s phone rings, making him groan as he sits up straight, reaching over to the nightstand to grab it. answering it with a huff. Your legs are still loosely wrapped around him when he sits back up straight above you, bringing one hand to rub at your thigh.

Your jaw clenches in annoyance, halfway ready to throw his phone across the room if he didn’t hang up in thirty seconds.

“JJ I’m busy-” Pope says between clenched teeth, the blonde interrupting him. Pope furrows his eyebrows as he scoffs. “Wh- No I haven’t seen your weed.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose, eyes screwed shut in annoyance. “Why would I hide it? That makes..”

“Pope,” You glare at him, Pope’s hand movements stopping as he looks down at you. “Hang up the phone.”

Pope’s eyes widen as they meet yours, cursing when he sees the look of lust blown out on your face. He fumbles to hang up, tossing it on the floor as he forgets all about it. You take your shirt off, flinging it across the room just in time for him to catch your lips in a heated kiss. You moan against his full lips when Pope’s hand runs along the lining of your underwear, and you run the usual through your head.

Everything was good down there, nice and smooth, ready for ac-

Your eyes pop open as you realize everything was not ready for action. You’d been so wrapped up in horniness you didn’t even think about it. With everything going on and you two never having time for sex, you haven’t really shaved in a few weeks. And with Pope being impulsive for the first time in his life, you didn’t have time to prepare yourself. You thought you’d be taking orders and bussing tables right about now.

You moved your lips distractedly against his, thinking to yourself how maybe you can just slip to the bathroom. But he would get suspicious if you took too long. You could always tell him, it’s not like he’s never seen hair before but normally you keep it clean shaven before you have sex just as a personal preference.

Pope notices your distraction, pulling away with knitted eyebrows, “What’s wrong? Am I moving too fast?”

“No, you’re great. I, um, I just.. remembered I haven’t really shaved in a little while.”

Pope pauses in his movements, head tilting slightly. You mistake his reaction for distaste, quickly sitting up and shaking your head. “We don’t have to do anything! I can just do something for you.. I still missed you.”

Pope still wears the same expression, and you bite your lip, “I’m sorry for not being ready, babe, you just surprised me-”

“What- I’m not mad,” Pope shakes his head with a confused smile, bringing your hands up to his lips to kiss them. “I’m just a little lost. Do you not want to have sex?”

“Of course I do,” You reply, shrugging awkwardly as your face flushes. “I’m saying that if you don’t want to-“

“Why wouldn’t I want to?”

“Because I’m not..” You motion your head to between your legs, Pope following your line of vision. You watch the moment  it clicks as he nods with pursed lips.

“Y/N.. I’m gonna say this is in the nicest way possible,” He starts, kissing your knuckles one more time before settling over you. “I don’t give a single fuck.”

You laugh, Pope smiling in return as you look up at him,“Really?”

He nods slightly, eyes darkening as he gazes down at you. He presses himself back against you, “Come ‘ere.”

You lean up to meet his lips, Pope returning his hand to the top of your underwear.  You spread your legs more to give him room as he slides his hands into your panties, moaning as he rubbed up and down your folds. It took you a second to get over the insecurity of not being shaved, but Pope’s groan against your lips when he felt your slickness helped.

He circled his fingers on your clit, your head leaning back to rest on the pillow. Pope places kisses on your neck as he moves his fingers to your entrance, gathering the wetness before sliding them both in. Your mouth falls open as he pumps his fingers slowly inside your heat, hand coming to grasp the back of his neck.

You roll your hips to meet his fingers, Pope pulling away to watch his hands move in your underwear. He curses to himself as he sees your wetness through your underwear, your juices practically soaking his hand at this point. He moves his head back to yours to give you a soft kiss.

“I’m gonna take your underwear off now, okay?”

You nod, biting your lip as Pope pulls away fully to slide your underwear down your legs. You keep your thighs together at first, Pope kissing both of your knees before grabbing them both in his hands, spreading your legs out so he can see your folds.

He moves further down the bed, placing kisses from your knees down the middle of your thighs as he settles his head over your heat. He blows on your folds, making you giggle and buck your hips slightly at the cold air hitting your warm center. He gives you a slanted smile, wrapping his arms around your thighs and using his fingers to spread your lips.

Your breathing picks up as he runs his tongue up your folds before enveloping your entire pussy in his mouth. His arms tighten around your thighs when you start to squirm, his head moving up and down as he sucks your folds. As much as you wanted to and could come from this alone, it’s been too long since you’ve felt him.

“Pope,” You whine, hitting his shoulder to catch his attention. He hums against you, licking you a couple more times before pulling off, “Yeah?”

“I want you inside of me,” You start pulling at his arms, Pope nodding quickly as he kisses your pussy one last time. He removes his arms from around your thighs, sitting up and grunting as you immediately pull him over you. Your hand lightly cups his jaw as he leans in to give you a heated kiss, slipping his tongue into your mouth.

You moan at the taste of him, hands moving to his waist as he starts to grind on you. Hard as ever, Pope groans become more frequent as he presses himself harder against you. You move your hands to his hips, pulling at his boxers and sliding them down. He finishes the job, pulling at them until they are down his legs and throwing them.

Moving back over you, he hovers over you as he takes your breast in his hands, kissing and sucking at them like he’s never gonna see them again. You whine his name again, making him smile into your chest as he pulls off to kiss you, “So needy.”

You lift an eyebrow, cupping his dick in your hand and stroking it. He shudders, hips bucking into your hands as he moans your name. You give him an amused look, “So needy.”

“Shut up,” He jokes back, slapping your hand away and sitting up. He lines his cock with your folds, pushing in slowly. He slides in embarrassingly easy, your eyes closing at the feeling of him inside of you after so long. He places his elbows next to your head as he leans over you, not moving his hips as he leans down to kiss you.

“You okay?” He asks, kissing your jaw.

You nod your head, eyes still closed but relaxing your muscles. He places soft kisses on your jaw and neck as he waits for you to give him the go, and when your legs wrap around his waist as you pull him deeper inside of you, he takes that as the cue.

He starts to move inside of you, pulling all the way out to push back in with hard, slow thrusts. Your head throws back at the feeling of his cock stretching you out as he kisses anywhere he can get lips on, moving faster.

The sound of skin slapping together rings throughout the room, Pope taking your legs from around his waist to fold them as he sits up and presses himself deeper inside of you. He’s trying to hold back his moans, biting his lip as his eyes close in pleasure. You on the other hand are a moaning mess.

Your eyes trace his face, head tilted back as he groans softly at the feeling of you. Your hand comes to his stomach, touching the muscle as he moves his hips harder to slam into you. Your moans are tumbling from your lips, your pussy soaking his cock as he moves inside of you.

After a little bit, knowing neither of you were gonna last that long, you grew needier the more he was quiet. You want to hear him moan, knowing the exact position to get what you want.

“Hold on,” You breathe out, Pope slowing down as he looks down at you. You push him away so he can pull out, making room so you can flip over. “I wanna..”

You flip over and get on your knees, moving the pillows from the bed and throwing them. Leaning on your forearms, you arch your back and push your ass back onto him. Your breasts are pressed against the sheets, offering some friction for your hard, sensitive nipples.

“Fucking hell.”

Pope curses, instantly getting on his knees and pressing himself against you. He slaps his dick on your ass, breathing hard as he pulls away a little to lean down to kiss both of the cheeks of your ass softly. You giggle at the feeling, shaking your ass playfully.

He sits up, hands coming to your ass and gripping the flesh. He spreads them as he moves closer to you, tip of his cock prodding at your entrance. He pushes himself in all the way to the hilt as you rest your forehead against your forearms, moaning loudly.

“That feel good, baby?”

“Mhm..” You nod, eyes fluttering as he starts to move inside of you, cock reaching deeper inside of you in this position.  “So deep like this.”

“Fuck, Y/N. You feel so good,” He groans, hands gripping your ass harder now. “I’m gonna fuck you harder now, alright?”

“Please,” You whine, a broken gasp leaving you as he starts to pound his cock inside of you. Your ass moves at the force he’s fucking you with, you moaning loudly as you push back to meet his thrusts. Pope watches you as you do so, a combination of your name and loud groans coming from him as he continues to pump himself inside of you.

He leans down, leaving wet kisses down the middle of your back as your legs begin to vibrate, head thrown back as your eyes close in ecstasy. Pope slaps your ass, making your pussy clench as you move back faster against him.

“You getting close?” He mumbles into your back, kissing a couple more times as you nod your head before sitting back up on his knees. “Me too. Come whenever you want, baby.”

He grabs your hips, stopping your own movements as he fucks himself harder into you. He’s moving faster now, cock hitting the perfect spot.

“Right there,” You squeak out, head pushing into the sheets as your hand grips the sheets, bringing your other hand between your legs to rub at your clit. You’re moaning loudly as he makes sure he continues to hit that spot inside of you, deep moans falling from his lips.

“There? I got you, baby, let go for me.”

From his words and the way he’s massaging your hips now, your eyes roll as your orgasm washes over you. Pope moves faster, mumbling incoherently as he lets himself get louder, thrusts growing slow and he’s again when he reaches his own climax. His orgasm magnifies yours, you nodding into the sheets as you bite down.

He slams his hips into yours, holding himself there for a couple of seconds before pulling back and continuing the same motion as he comes inside of you. He falls into your back as his orgasm begins to make his legs shake, kissing your upper back as he continues to come.

“So good… Missed you so much .. You’re so perfect,” He mumbles in between kisses as he rides out both of your highs. As they subsides, he rests against your for a little while longer before pulling out. He helps you flip back over, laying next to you as he pulls you into his side. You look up at him, adoration laced in your expression.

Moving your hair from your face, a ghost of a smile is on his lips as he peers down at you, "You good?"

"Yeah, you?"

"More than good," He kissed you, the two of you smiling into the kiss. Pulling back, he leans his head back on the bed as the two of you lay there in the comfortable silence.

"Okay," You mutter, kissing his chest before sitting up. "I'm gonna go to the bathroom. You pick the pillows up off the ground and get your computer. Time for us.."

You lean back over him to peck his lips, "..To have some quality time."

"Sounds great," He responds, watching you as you get off the bed. You reach down to grab his discarded shirt, Pope catching your attention. "Uh, don't put any pants on."

You smirk over at him, shaking your head amusedly as you throw his shirt over you. He gets off the bed, walking over to you and holding your waist as he pulls you into him, "I kind of like the thought of you walking around with just my shirt on."

"Is that so?" You mutter, Pope nodding and kissing you. 

Pope moves his lips to your forehead as he lands a small slap on your ass, “And don’t ever worry about that shit again.” 

Knowing what he was talking about, your face flushes again as you gaze up at him. His eyes are serious as he looks down at you, “I mean it.” 

Biting your lip at his tone, you lean up to kiss his lips, “Yes, sir.” 

He slaps your ass again at that, pushing you away while mumbling about you starting something, making you laugh. You pull back, heading to the door as he goes to pick up the discard pillow from across the room.

[annesstardustchords]

The Devil’s Calling - Matt Murdock

CW: masturbation (f+m), phone sex, sort of established relationship, mentions of p in v and oral (f+m), dom Matt, pet names, edging

18+ MINORS DNI

my first official tumblr smut :) feels like a good upgrade from wattpad, especially writing about Matt considering the CHOKEHOLD he’s had me in recently.

DMs are always open for requests, so don’t hesitate to reach out!!

enjoy

It’d been two weeks of torture.

You’ve been at a cottage in the middle of nowhere for two weeks with just your family - including aunts and uncles - and you just couldn’t take it anymore. Yes, you love your family, but you’ve been living on your own for a year in the big city now, working for Nelson and Murdock. You’ve even got yourself a nice little apartment. You’ve tasted that freedom, so you didn’t love being treated like a child again. You also missed your friends, missed your apartment, and you especially missed your boyfriend, Matt. 

You hated everything about this stupid little “vacation.”

Being away from Matt was hard... The two of you hadn’t gone more than 2 days without sex in the 4 months you’d been together, so a whole week without him was… not easy.

Being lonely, missing matt- those are an understatement; irrevocably horny and desperate is probably a better way to explain it. Your family is constantly around so you haven’t even been able to take care of the growing pain in your lower belly on your own, and it’s eating away at you… and anyways, your hands don’t feel as good as Matts hands, mouth or dick.

You gulp then, remembering the feeling of him filling you up, his thumb on your clit as he fucked you hard. his little smirk when he heard your breathing intensify, and your heart skip a couple beats. the way he could merely listen and know when you were about to fall over the edge.

As you think about him -Matt- his big, strong hands holding your hips in place as he peppers kisses down your stomach all the way to your panties, you find your fingertips mimicking his mouth - slowly trailing a line down the soft skin of your tummy, almost insatiable as your touch reaches the hem of your panties. You slide a hand under the band, delicately feathering over your clit and down to your hole, and back up again. You take a shaky breath, trying to stay quiet once you begin rubbing small, light circles on your clit. 

Your other hand comes up to your chest, giving a small pinch to your nipple as your circles grow harsher on your throbbing bud. 

Your phone rings then, loudly disrupting your blissful state. It’s nearly three am, there’s no reason anyone should be calling, but you roll over anyways, thoroughly pissed off as you rid your body of pleasure and pick up the phone.

“Hello?” you question, impatience evident in your tone as you let out a deep sigh.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Matt’s voice rings from the other line, low and raspy as per usual.

“Oh, hi Matty. Sorry, you caught me off guard,” you chuckle, laying back down  and placing the phone on your chest once you’ve hit the speaker button.

“Sorry, love. didn’t mean to scare you. What’re you doing up so late? I didn’t think you’d pick up,” he laughs- the vibration of his laugh radiating from the speaker on your phone going straight to your cunt.

“Oh… uhm- just couldn’t sleep,” you lie, pressing your thighs together to relieve some pressure, “what’re you doing up so late?”

“You know- uh-“ 

“Matt, I swear to god, did you put on the suit again?” you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“I- uh-“ he stutters.

“Matt, you’re supposed to be resting. you took some pretty serious hits the other night.. and your hearing,” you blurt, taking a breath to calm yourself down, “you have to be careful, please, Matt. I’m worried about you.”

“Don’t be. You know i’m fully capable of taking care myself,” he assures you, a smile almost audible through the phone.

“I know, Matty… I just-“

“I’m sorry, baby. I won’t go out again until your home- Until I have you to stitch me up again.”

“You and I both know that’s not true,” you laugh, running a hand through your hair.

“Mhm, definitely not true. You wanna know what else isn’t true, though?” he asks almost playfully.

“What?” you smile.

“You telling me you couldn’t sleep,” he murmurs, voice lower than before.

“I- what?” you stammer.

 “I can hear your heart, darling. Either you just went on a jog at 3am in the middle of nowhere, or your pretty little fingers were in between your thighs.”

Your heart caught in your through then, silently cursing yourself forgetting just how good his hearing was.

“I…” you start to say.

“Uh-uh,” he tsks, “don’t let me stop you now, darling. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“Matty, I-“ you start, cheeks burning red with embarrassment.

“I want you to touch yourself,” he demands, resulting in an even bigger pool of wetness dripping onto the lace of your underwear, “and by the sound of it, you want that too.”

“No, I want you, matt. it’s been too long, and my family’s around and i just… need you… I don’t want my fingers, I want yours” you blurt, coming off more desperate than intended.

“Then let me help you, princess,” he breaths, “come one now, start with your chest.”

And so you did, gently caressing the apex where the harshness of your collarbones and the smooth flesh of your breasts met, letting your head lull to the side.

“Good, darling. Now, slowly make your way down to you panties. Not too fast, I’ll know if your touching yourself, and I’m not letting you do that just yet,” he says, slight shuffling going on in the background of the call.

“Wish it were you touching me,” you whine, careful passing over your belly button.

“Mh, me too,” he groans, “soon, my love. You reached your panties yet?”

“Mhm,” you smile.

“Good. Touch yourself on top of the fabric.”

“Im wearing the ones you like… the lace ones,” you tell him as featherlight touches pass by the dull ache at he top of your cunt.

“Always loved how they felt against your skin,” he mutters, “the lace in contrast to how soft you are… its perfect.”

“Fuck, Matt, please,” you sigh, the delicate touches no longer suffusing.

“What do you want, doll?” he chuckles.

“Want to touch myself,” you whine, begging for him to allow you too.

“Okay, baby. Take your panties off, hm?” he requests, urge and desire dripping from his tone.

You do as he requests, placing the phone on your tummy so he can hear the lace slipping down your thighs. That seems to do the trick, earning a small grunt from Matt.

“Mh- Start on your clit, darling- real slow for me, yeah?” he breaths, each breath he takes becoming more exasperated.

You gasp a little when the cool touch of your fingertips met your heat, rubbing dreadfully slow circles into your already sensitive nub from what you’d been doing before Matt called.

“Good girl,” Matt groans, obviously joining in on the fun, “a little faster now, princess.”

You listen again, speeding up your find here and tracing up your body to grab at your nipple.

“Hands off your chest,” he grumbles, more angsty than you’d expected him to be.

“No,” you whine, followed by a string of moans and whines.

“Now, Y/N. Hands off or I’m not gonna let you cum tonight.”

Your hand immediately left your chest, returning to the mattress as you squeeze at the fabric below it.

“Good girl,” he mumbles, “such a good little slut for me, hm?”

“Matty,” you whimper, circling faster.

“Use your words, sweetness. What do you want?” he teases.

“Want you to touch yourself with me,” you groan, “Want to hear you.”

“Not yet, doll,” he sighs, his self control hitting a low.

“Fuck,” you moan, “I’m so close.”

“Hands off,” he grumbles.

“But-”

“Now, y/n,” he demands, and you know better than to defy him, so you reluctantly stop your movements.

“Good,” he lets out a low laugh, “Now, I’ll let you cum if you do something for me.”

“Yes, yes, anything,” you promise, sexual frustration hitting its peak.

“Beg,” he growls.

“What?”

“Beg for it,” he says again, the sound of a zipper being undone making its way to your ears.

“Please, Matty,” you whine, “Please let me touch myself. I want to cum. Please let me cum- need to.”

“Good girl. Such a good girl,” he moans, “Fuuuuck.”

“Are you touching yourself, Matty?” you ask excitedly.

“Yes, baby- but I won’t last long. Touch yourself again for me, hm?” he whispers, barely audible beneath the pants he lets out.

You do as he says, returning your hand to your cunt and rubbing harsh, fast circles out of pure desperation. 

“That’s it, sweetheart. Love it when your heart beats like that- can tell you’re so close for me.”

“Fuck,” you moan, your other hand sliding inside yourself with two fingers, “I’m so wet, Matty. All for you.”

“That’s it, baby,” he whimpers, “Come on now, cum for me.”

You let yourself go, fast circles on your clit matching the slick, wet sounds of Matt’s actions on the other side of the phone.

“Matty, mmph, gonna-” you’re cut off by your orgasm crashing down over you for the first time in two weeks. The relief of it all being nearly too much to bear as your legs close around your hands.

“Fuuuck,” Matt drawls out as he finishes.

“That was-” you pant, “Perfect.

“Not as perfect as it will be once you’re home,” he breathlessly laughs.

“I think I’m going to fly home a couple days early,” you giggle, pulling up your panties.

“I think that’s a great idea,” he agrees, “Now get some sleep, baby. I’ll see you soon.”

“I love you, Matt.”

“I love you, too, darling.”

[onigiri-dorkk]

Thanks all so far for enjoying the oneshot 🥹 I’ve been sad that I haven’t been able to publish things regularly lately so it felt fulfilling again to finally share something again!!

I had a lot of fun with 104th’s Top Cadet — I tested something where I intentionally backed off of descriptions/scenery, doing less than I typically end up doing, and instead spent more time building dialogue which was really enjoyable for me. In hindsight I always felt like dialogue scenes in, for example, Microcosmos could have been built even more so I’ve been challenging myself lately in all my WIPs to get used to giving dialogue and conversations a little more time and care (without going overboard).

I find when I read long fanfics, I tend to breeze through when there’s too much detail/description/etc and my eyes aim for dialogue to push through story, so that’s probably another reason. Especially in action-centered scenes, or scenes that are supposed to lead to something else!

It was even fun to study things like canon dialogue between Levi and Erwin, or Erwin to soldiers to get things right. For Mikasa, I tend to write her a bit more lively and expressive and sweet (bc that’s how I envision she grows to be tbh) but sticking to her stoic and fierce personality was good — especially for this timeframe when she doesn’t know Levi yet and doesn’t trust him.

A lot of why I ship them is built around S3 and onwards, post-war especially, because of the mutual quiet respect and admiration they have for each other, and I’ve gotten used to reading and writing that type of dynamic. So it’s fun and almost exciting to go back to the beginning where Levi is absolutely annoyed with her, and Mikasa sees him the same 🤣 It’s so different than what they became! But I love it because it emphasizes how much they HAVE grown. I think I wrote this recently but Mikasa’s relationship with Levi is her most transformed relationship amongst anyone else in the series.

With Eren, it’s kinda just… the same. Their moments we see in Marley S4 are exactly the same as S1 episode 1/when they’re children in Shiganshina. There’s no built trust. There’s no build of romance, even. After the “I’ll wrap that scarf around you as many times as you want, now and forever” moment, their dynamic still didn’t change. (I started writing more about this but deleted it bc this isn’t supposed to be an analysis post LMAO)

Anyway, all that to say 🤣 I tried to venture off and do something new outside of fluff or smut I usually write for one-shots! Hope you enjoyed the action, completely staying in Levi POV, dialogue, staying more in character, etc. i have so many more WIPs I hoped to publish before Japan but it’ll likely have to wait 😩 Will def be doing some brainstorming on the planes to make it easier to start writing again when I get back hehee

[imnotoverlyobsessive]

Author Rec

Okay, so I need to gush. I’ve already done it to poor @meetmyothersouls and @softhecreator and now I’m going to subject all of you to it as well.

For the first time in a very long while, I have not just a book rec, but an author rec: Kathryn Ann Kingsley. In the past week, I’ve read eight of her novels. No, you’re not misreading that. I have read eight of her novels in the past week. I told my bestie that I haven’t been this excited about discovering an author since I first read A Court of Thorns and Roses, which I got a fucking tattoo for, and that literally could not be more true. Lemme explain why.

So, for those of you who aren’t aware/don’t know me, I have a thing for guys that are, for all intents and purposes, shaped like twinks. I mean, I write about Timothée Chalamet, for fuck’s sake. That’s really the only shape of guy I find attractive, is skinny with a little bit of muscle. Tragically, finding romance novels about guys who are anything but huge muscular beefcakes is about as hard as swimming upriver when your legs and arms are all asleep. I wish I could read books with guys of other body types, but the beefcakes that are consistently portrayed in almost every romance novel are physically repulsive to me. I wish they weren’t, but here we are. Even guys that are just leanly muscular are so fucking hard to find. In any case, if you know anything about my reading tastes, be they fanfiction or otherwise, you know that I am the pickiest bitch there ever was.

So far, the guys I’ve read about in the novels (there have been four; one standalone, one longer series, and one set of two. I’ve also started on the fourth) have all been tall and skinny. I do mean tall, mind you; the guy in the most recent one was 6’5”. He also looks almost exactly like Timothée in every other respect (his height and eyes are really the only difference in their appearance). They’re a bit muscular, but there’s no passages about how insanely wide they are, how much space they take up (aside from their height, of course), their rippling muscles and whatnot. I have very few complaints about these books (the smut could be longer, I suppose; there’s always a reason that the couples portrayed are incapable of having children; the last series I read had some femdom stuff; both multiparters have contained anal which she included as the last smut in the series both times for whatever reason, but all of these things can be overlooked to a degree. The last on the list, I simply skipped lol). The writing is stellar, the smut is great, the plots are incredible, the guys are sexy, the characters are well-developed, and I’m shocked to say that there were plot twists that surprised me, and I’m very rarely surprised about plot twists.

Now, fair warning: these are fantasy books about characters that are either borderline evil or straight up evil falling in love. The guys are possessive and varying degrees of insane. Simon, the guy I described as looking so similar to Tim, is definitely the craziest of all. These are not books that are about healthy relationships. There may be scenes that make you uncomfortable. If any of them interest you and you’d like a full list of all the warnings I can think of, I’ll be happy to provide for the ones I’ve read (so far it’s just the Harrow Faire series, The Impossible Julian Strande duet thingy, and The Forgotten Phantom, which is standalone) and any I read in the future, which will most likely be everything she’s ever written. But yeah, these guys are not good people. You know that tumblr post that said “the best thing a fictional man can do is be insane and love his wife”? Yeah, that sums up all the male characters. They may not be nice guys, but they are most definitely wifeguys. If you are not someone who is able to read an unhealthy relationship and not get upset, take it to heart, or view it as ideal, do not read these books. They’re not for you. And that’s totally okay! But if you’ve ever looked at a villain and thought, “he’s insane. I wanna fuck him”, then these books are for you.

I cannot recommend this author highly enough. Seriously. If you’re into darker romance with skinny men, you have gotta check these out. Like I said, eight in the past week.

[euphoricfilter]

Ah so many good replies to my recent asks! Thank you! Not me asking for it and then feeling sad about the contract ending and the relationship for the contract ask lol it’s an interesting concept but oof it hurt a lil lol. My hollyhomburg thoughts kinda going everywhere lol. And I ask you for thoughts like 3 times, sorry lol. Yeah, I’ve read hollyhomburg’s fic! One of my favorite writers. They said the next ch is going to be smutty so 👀 I love their smut in bily but they space it out more which is nice too. The fluff is also super cute. And the angst is top tier. I’ve teared up to it a few times. Their omegaspace stuff is so good and written the most I’ve read in bts omega verse fics. Mc is so cute especially during it. The Namjoon feeding her on her lap and then lightly scruffing her part ahh omg. I love the casual dominance!! I wanted to ask you about it but idk if you’d know what I meant lol Please share some thoughts on it! I kinda want that bc I find it hard to take care of myself with food, water, and sleep ;^; Collars is a holy grail ch omg! it’s written so well for a concept I love. I follow them on Twitter and read some good member x members fics based on their likes. I’m too scared to check their nsfw account hmm even though I think they’re pretty. The snake top pic omg. I just want to imagine them as cute :( But not them saying mc’s heat will come closer to the end of the series TT I’m hoping we’ll get to see the others in rut and heat soon at least. The tae and Jimin in the car scene omg. Slick drunk Namjoon with his chain collar and leash. The spanking ch esp bc yoongi uses mc’s thighs and we first get to see slick drunk Namjoon. I can’t wait to read when mc can fit him. The few ideas she wrote that Namjoon is so big. It makes his pups quiet and dumb during cockwarming omg. I crave a full on puppy hobi scene with mc there too. But it’s still slow burn between them. It’s so torturous but good. Please share thoughts on puppy hobi and mc with Namjoon and Jin dom! Omg dom Jin is so good here. I also thought the full alpha bts pack would include omega mc but it’s cute as is too. Please share thoughts on thus! Tae’s story and poems. Mc’s development TT NOODLE best boi! Too bad he doesn’t like all of the pack, but the reasoning is nice :/ How could they make it that noddle doesn’t like Yoongi though?! I want to imagine Yoongi with a cat since we haven’t seen it irl :/ It’s such a masterpiece omg! -🖤

IM SORRY AVOUT THE CONTRACT ASK LMAO

ahhh i’ve been reading bily since the first chapter and i’m so excited for the next one!!!!!!! their writing is always so pretty ahhhh

the m/c and namjoon’s recent date was cute as well AND NOODLE IS A WHOLE BABY i’d have thought that maybe because the m/c and yoongi are bonded noodle would have warmed up to yoongi more

i’ve really enjoyed the series so far though! it was always nice to wake up to the new chapter and i don’t usually read slow burn fics because i’m extremely impatient and like to be able to finish a series in like 2 or 3 sittings. however! bily is definitely one of my favorite stories on tumblr!

i love the idea of just being taken care of, it can be really hard sometimes to remember to do everything by yourself and making sure that you’re healthy, i’d sell a kidney to just have someone do all of the hard bits for me 😭

ahh i haven’t followed them on twitter maybe i should do that!!!!

i’m interested in the way they plan to write the rut/ bear scenes especially since i think a lot of the big stuff if happening towards the end of the series!! i’ll wait though because i know it’s going to be good. it’ll be interesting to see everyone’s dynamics while all in that situation rather than 3-4 of them at a time

JIMIN AND TAE CAR SCENE I SCREAMED

there’s something so yummy about the m/c physically being too small to take namjoon and you just know it’s going to be so so good when she finally can

m/c x puppy hobi would be really interesting to see but as it stands we’re still slowly working towards their relationship 😭

i think puppy hobi is really cute and somehow really fits his character. i also love the dynamic between namjoon and the m/c, just broad alpha who’s really trying his best to keep everyone together and slowly learning how to love the m/c the way she needs to be loved is so precious. now i love the m/c x jin even more HES SO I DONT EVEN HAVE THE WORDS EXCEPT YES PLEASE jin is just so yummy and i love how he loves the m/c and just always seems to know what’s best and he’s firm but not pushy

the m/c’s development has been slow but when you look back on earlier chapters shes come so far!!!! and i love tae’s character she’s so precious and her whole storyline has been so interesting to read about and now that she’s come out IM SO EXCITED FOR MOMMY TAE IM GONNA SCREAM

bily is definitely a masterpiece and will remain one of my favorite fics i’ve ever read!

[mariaofdoranelle]

i’m new to the fandom and have been told you’re the place to go for good fics, so do you have a recommendation for where i should start on your master list? look at us now seems like a good plot but then again so does everything else haha!

also i wanted to ask if you’re ok with a minor reading your stuff (esp the smut) just to be sure!😊

Hi, Nonnie!! First and foremost, welcome to the fandom! I hope you have a good time here ❤️

My response got a little too big, so I’m putting it below the cut

Omg thank you so much!! You and your friend are too nice hahah and I hope my fics live up to the expectations 😂❤️❤️

My advice is, just pick a trope and go. I vary a lot between them (I think?) so I hope you find at least one of your favorites in my masterlist. I redid it recently, so the ones on top are the most liked by readers here and also on AO3.

About your last question: I know minors read the explicit content I post. I haven’t seen it happening, but I’ve been reading all kinds of smut online since I was 14. Trust me, I know.

The minor tag is there to protect young people from content that they’re not yet equipped to process. I use it with this goal, and will always recommend that minors steer clear of anything labelled in such a way.

However, I also want you and any other teenagers to know that there is no shame in being curious about smut and other adult content. I ignored my fair share of content warnings back in the day. Smut is fun. I won’t lie to you and pretend it’s not. But the problem is that most of the time, it’s not representative of reality.

I just hope you don’t try to bring whatever you read online into real life, because that got me into some trouble during my teenage years (yes, I was an Effy Stonem stan back in the day. Tough times.) I write unrealistic sex scenes, whether it’s about the characters’ “performance”, amount of orgasms, anything. What I post is a lot less awkward than the real thing. Some of the characters drink so much, but I haven’t been really drunk in a year. And no, I don’t eat edibles like some of the characters do lol nor do I recommend it. Fanfiction is not real life, and I can’t know if any person is ready to understand that.

‘Minor’ is such a vague term, so if you’re able to read it, process the information without being traumatized for life and know that it’s a fantasy, then you can make your own responsible decisions. If not, then I’d really recommend you stay away from it. Again, the content warnings are there for a reason, the age recommendation isn’t arbitrary, but you know yourself best.

With that being said, I put very detailed warnings in every single work I post. Whether you choose to read the smutty fics or not, I hope you have some healthy fun time ❤️

Anyways, thanks for the ask, Nonnie, and thank you @heirofflowers for helping me write a proper response hahahah

[meetmyothersouls]

Oh, please please do a second part to 'One Night Stand'❤ (also I love you)

I love you!! Here you go!

One Night Stand

Part 2 (reader’s POV)

Warnings: light smut

I managed to leave the hotel without waking him up. I knew that if he did, I wouldn’t have been able to. It killed me to sneak out of his warm grasp. To peel his arms away from me and leave them empty. I left him a note, I didn’t write anything other than a quote I knew he’d recognize. I could have left him my number, but I didn’t. I didn’t want him to contact me. Our lives wouldn’t mesh well together. People like me weren’t meant for people like him. So I left our relationship as is: a one night stand. 

As I hopped into a taxi, I wondered what he was doing. Was he still asleep? Had he woken up to the empty bed? I had only met him less than 24 hours ago but I already felt empty as the taxi drove me away from a night so magical I could have surly dreamt it. But it wasn’t a dream. The small purple love marks he left on my neck were proof. I touched them with my finger tips and could still feel him. I could taste him on my lips. Maybe he’d be mad. For having sex with him not once, but twice and sneaking off before he woke up. Maybe he’d be sad. Fuck. That thought alone could have been enough for me to ask the driver to turn the taxi around and take me back to him. Maybe he’d never think of me again and maybe that was good. 

I lived in New York and after a recent breakup with an abusive ex, I had no home. Staying in the hotel was pretty decent gig, and much cheaper, and nicer, than the typical New York apartment. So I lived there. For six months I stayed there writing articles for newspapers and magazines. Finding opportunities to interview celebrities, artists, and musicians and using their comments for my work. But, it was time for a new hotel, now that...well, you know. 

A week went by since my encounter with Timothee Chalamet. I didn’t know it was possible to miss a human you barely knew, but I did. Especially as I began writing about his latest film and my question I asked him. The cursor blinked at me on the screen. Taunting me. 

My phone rang and I answered without looking. 

“Hello?”

Silence. 

“Uhm, hello??”

Silence and then dial tone. 

“Okay...” I said out loud as I resumed my typing. I managed a few sentences before giving up. Shutting my laptop and tossing it to the side. I looked him up. I went to his Instagram and scrolled through, just to see his face again. “Pathetic,” I thought to myself. My phone rang again, interrupting my scrolling. Unknown caller. I sent it to voicemail, but they didn’t leave one. I fell asleep that night scrolling through his pictures, part of me wished I would have gotten one with him before I left him.

A dreamless sleep was interrupted by the sound and feeling of vibrations in my hand. It was the unknown caller again. Decline. I stayed in my hotel room that day opting for comfort. I ordered pizza and watched episodes of Friends on Netflix straight into the evening. 

It was 8:30 when my phone rang again. 

I answered that time, “Listen, if you don’t stop fucking calling me I --” 

“Y/n.” 

That voice. It stopped me dead in my tracks. “Who is this?” 

“It’s --” 

“H-how did you get my number?” 

“I’m sorry, you left and I...I got it from the front desk the second I realized you were gone. I paid them. I couldn’t let you go. Do you know how much I’ve thought about you? I haven’t been able to do a damn thing. I don’t know if you left because you don’t want me or, if it’s...for some other reason, but I had to hear your voice and I...” 

There was a knock at my door.

I unlocked it with shaky hands and slowly opened it. And there he was, his phone in his hand. His hair wet from the rain outside. It dripped onto his face and clothes. He looked like he hadn’t slept in the entire week that we’d been apart. 

“...I had to see your face. To see if you were real, or just an angle I had the pleasure of dreaming about. I had to see if you’d let me make you so happy, because I would.” He dropped his phone from his ear. I let mine slide out of my hand and onto the floor. We stared at each other. He didn’t cross the threshold as he whispered, “please, you are all I want. I knew it from the moment I laid eyes on you. Please, don’t make me leave.” 

I grabbed the collar of his wet jacket and pulled him inside, attaching my lips to his in the process. His hair dripped earthy tasting water onto my face and clothes. I peeled his jacket off and let it fall to the floor. His breaths were shaky as we separated, staring at each other again. Perhaps he was wondering if it was real. He touched my face and I leaned into it. His hands. Those fucking hands. I never thought I’d feel the delicate touch they were capable of again. But he was there and he was real and the moment was real. 

As I took in the situation, I couldn’t help but laugh. “What?” He asked chuckling at my laughter. “It’s just, the last time...I was the one who needed new clothes and now you need new clothes. You are drenched.” He stared at me, and smiled. His eyes scanned my face, in a way that a lover looks over his mate.

 “It’s okay. The walk in the rain was worth it.” 

“You walked? In the middle of a storm?” 

There was silence and then a hunger that took over us both instantly. I pulled his shirt out of his pants and over his head. He fumbled with his belt then his pants and we found ourselves in a familiar walk to my bed. He was naked, his body was covered in goosebumps as the cool air hit is damp skin. I pulled my shirt over my head, “take me, please,” I whispered. He was on me in seconds pulling at my shorts and scooting me further up the bed. He wasted no time as he pushed himself into me. We groaned in unison at the feeling of being one again. He made love to me, it was needier than our first time now that we’d experienced it and been with out it. Our lips connected with a passion that could not be replicated or achieved by any other lover. He buried himself into me over and over again until we were both shaking. I found myself pulsating around him as I cam on his cock. A feeling that brought him to his release promptly. He collapsed beside of me, and pulled me into his arms. My face buried into the crook of his neck, I inhaled his scent deeply. He brought his hands to my cheeks and lifted my face to his. “Please don’t leave again,” he pressed a soft kiss to my lips, “I might not be able to find you next time, and I cannot live with that. If you’re scared we’ll work through it, please don’t run.” His voice laden with desperation.

“I won’t. You’ve got me.”

Tags: @imnotoverlyobsessive @dayafied @soulofendlessbook @fashphotolife @chicchanelcigs @scentedkittenperfection @timotheeisthelomll @weasleytwinscumslut @mxciscastleintheair @marvelmaniac2000 @lovelyrocker @divine-1

[mypoisonedvine]

𝖙𝖜𝖎𝖈𝖊 I || professor!helmut zemo x reader

𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞 : history is so much more interesting when he’s teaching it.  you’d better be careful before the two of you end up with a history of your own.

𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙 : 6k

𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 : smut (incl. semi-public sex in an office and oral f receiving), significant age gap (reader is 20, zemo is 39; it isn’t actually mentioned though but it comes up in the next part), the slightest bit of angst?, nearly pwp at this point lol

                                    You wouldn’t know it by the way you were enraptured with his lecture, but you weren’t even a history major.  

Quite far from it, really, well outside of the college of liberal arts, and yet here you were in the front row, watching him gesture over a large map of Western Europe while he explained the sociocultural impacts of the Treaty of Versailles.

It was probably pretty obvious why you took such interest in all this, though.  After all, you were the only one who dressed as well as he did, your blazers and skirts and loafers standing out amongst a sea of hoodies and sweats and flip-flops; and, you were the only one who paid close attention and yet never seemed to be taking any notes…

Why would you, after all?  Looking away to write in your notebook would mean missing out on all the fun, and unfortunately you had found that when you copied down the words he spoke, his accent was not retained in writing.

Some kid in the back of the class had asked about his accent the first day; you thought it was kind of a rude question, if you were being honest, but he didn’t seem to mind too much (if perhaps a bit surprised that anyone cared).  He explained he was from a small country called Sokovia, but that his accent was a bit unique since he spoke Russian, German, Spanish, and Italian as well.

Because of course he did.  Like he was specifically designed to target all your weaknesses.

“Well, I could talk about that for the rest of the evening but I’ll spare you all and let you out a bit early today, how does that sound?” Professor Zemo offered.  The other students weakly cheered, a few claps here and there as you heard binders shutting and backpacks being zipped, but you were disappointed.  You didn’t want to go back to your dorm, all you were going to do there was think about him anyways.

Damn, I’ve really got it bad, you thought to yourself, shaking your head as you stood up and gathering your things, slinging your bag over your shoulder.  You glanced up at the podium where another student was chatting with Professor Zemo, and either he said something really funny or she was trying way too hard to flirt with him.  You rolled your eyes, irritated by the display and yet envious of her audacity to just go up there and talk to him.  Imagine having a crush and actually being able to look them in the eye and hold a conversation; you could barely do that with people you didn’t happen to find attractive.

Just as you were about to make it out the door, you heard your name and spun around.  You were shocked to realize it was the Professor trying to get your attention.  If only you’d thought to pretend you hadn’t heard him.

“Could I speak with you for a moment?” he requested, motioning you over with two curled fingers.  With a swallow and a nod, you stepped out of the flow of students exiting into the hallway and approached the desk at the front of the room.

“What is it?” you asked.

“I just wanted to discuss your most recent paper, if you have some time,” he explained, and your heart sunk.  Of course it was garbage, you’d written the whole thing last minute during a near-all-nighter.  “I still have the copy you turned in here in my bag.”

“Right, of course— sure,” you nodded.  By now the classroom was empty spare for the two of you, your words echoing slightly; presumably that was intentional, since these places were built for acoustics, but it made you worry you’d have to hear whatever criticism he had for you multiple times.

He pulled out the slightly-wrinkled paper and took his glasses off of his vest to wear (fuck, did he have to wear the glasses, just to personally attack you?) as he glanced over the top page before folding it over the staple.

“This essay,” he continued, “it’s—”

Ridiculous.  Idiotic.  A blight on humanity and a waste of printer ink.

“Fascinating,” he finished, surprising you.  “After I read it, I searched your student profile on my office computer—”

You gulped, trying not to take that as a compliment.

“I’m looking at your information and I’m seeing you aren’t even a history major— is this a mistake, when it says your major is computer science?”

“No, that’s my major,” you nodded.

“Well, that’s a shame,” he decided, “because you have some really interesting ideas in here, clearly you must have studied history before.”

“I mean, not really,” you shrugged.  “I didn’t even care that much about history until, you know, you...r class,” you finished quickly, realizing it sounded too odd otherwise.

And that smile, the way he looked down at the floor suddenly, was he blushing?  “Thank you.  I’m always… glad to inspire.”

If only you knew everything you’d inspired in me, Professor.

“If you didn’t care about history, what would motivate you to register for an honors history seminar?” he asked suddenly.  

“Well…” you trailed off, reaching up to scratch the back of your neck as you dodged his gaze.

“It couldn’t possibly be because I’m teaching it,” he realized.

“I came to your talk last year, the one you did about the Sokovian civil war,” you finally admitted, letting out a lungful of air as you said it and looking up at him sheepishly.

“Ah,” he nodded, “yes, that might make a bit more sense.  But we still haven’t found the real reason, have we?”  His eyebrow raised slightly and you felt like he was toying with you— but you liked it, the shiver that ran up your spine made that obvious.  “Because the question remains of what would possess a computer science student to take time out of her busy schedule on a Friday night— if I recall the night correctly— to listen to some stuffy visiting scholar talk about a bloody war in a country she may not have even heard of before.”

“My friend brought me,” you defended.

“Under what guise?” he pressed.

“She… may have mentioned something about… a cute professor with a sexy accent…” you stammered, cringing slightly as you spared a glance back up at him.  He was staring back at you with the most bewildering expression.  His eyes said ‘you thought I was cute?’, and yet his smile said ‘I knew it.’

“You must’ve been horribly disappointed when I took the stage,” he finally replied, voice a bit lower, softer, not echoing around the room anymore.  

“Not at all,” you returned, almost below your breath now, and suddenly you became very aware that you were standing too close to him, but you couldn’t move away, you couldn’t even look away anymore.  “I’m here, aren’t I?  Taking your class?”

“And you make it nearly impossible to focus, did you know that?  I swear your eyes never leave me, I can feel them on me.  It’s quite unfair, because I can’t stare back at you no matter how much I want to.”

Just as you looked down at his lips and back up to his eyes, which seemed to be following a similar pattern on your own face, just when you thought this might be it and you were about to do something you really shouldn’t (but really wanted to), you heard the door open behind you and you spun around so fast you nearly hurt your neck.

“Oh,” the man in the doorway mumbled, apparently surprised to see you enough to nearly drop the papers tucked under his arm.  “I’m teaching the next class in here— Honors History of Islam?”

“Professor Waters, yes, my apologies,” Zemo nodded, “we were just… our discussion ran a bit long, we’ll get out of your way.”

You and Zemo awkwardly gathered your things and made a dash for the door as the older professor took his place at the podium.  Once the two of you were out in the hall, you let out a sigh and gave each other a glance, like you were each waiting for the other to either acknowledge or ignore what had just (almost) happened.

“I have my next class across campus in a half hour,” he remembered suddenly, lifting his arm and pulling back the brown sleeve of his coat to look at his watch.  

“Right, you should… get to that,” you nodded.

“Walk with me?” he proposed, and you hoped your smile wasn’t as beaming as it felt.  

“I’d love to.”

So maybe you ended up skipping your evening class to sit in the back of his History of England course.  And, perhaps, he ended that one early, too, this time to buy you coffee at the student center; and your discussion ended up going on so long that the coffee shop closed and you had to go to his office to finish the conversation.

But, in a certain sense, it could be argued that you never really got a chance to finish that conversation after all… because a few moments after he shut the door to his office, you, for lack of a better term, jumped his bones.

“Fuck,” he mumbled against your lips as you pulled him closer by his jacket, “we can’t do this.”

You nodded, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck.  “Mhm, yeah, you’re right,” you agreed breathlessly.

His hands took their place at your waist as you both stepped back, the back of your legs bumping into his desk which you jumped up slightly to sit on.

“I mean, we really can’t do this,” he continued, kissing your neck instead now while your legs wrapped around his hips, your skirt riding up slightly, your fingers fumbling with the buttons on his collar.  “I want to, overwhelmingly so, but we can’t.”

“I know,” you sighed; your head fell back when his teeth grazed over your pulse, and his hand was right there to catch it and hold it up, gripping the back of your neck.

“This absolutely cannot happen,” he groaned when your legs pulled him closer, something hard and hot pressing up against your thigh through his trousers and you were really hoping it wasn’t just his cell phone.

Then he rocked his hips, just barely, and you felt the outline of the ridge of his head and it was definitely not his phone unless he had the most suggestively-shaped phone case of all time.  You gasped and grabbed his face to kiss him again, shamelessly desperate now, weaving your fingers into the hair just above the back of his neck.

By now you had managed to get a few of his buttons open so when you slid your fingers down from time to time, they ran over his chest and the patch of dark blonde hair there.  Funny enough, you couldn’t remember having any strong opinions on chest hair before this afternoon, but now you felt your walls fluttering around nothing.  

He helped you shed your blazer just before tossing his own coat aside, never breaking the kiss, holding your face gently while he pushed you down to lay on his desk— he reached behind you to clear a few stray papers out of the way first.  

Your back hit the glossy wood and his weight pinned you down, rough hands sliding up your legs and under your skirt as you tried to push your hips up for more friction where you needed him most.

He pushed your hips back down, not too roughly but definitely enough to get your attention, before sliding his hands up your skirt again where he toyed with the hem of your panties.

You wanted to say something, more specifically you wanted to beg him to touch you, but you had this fear that if you spoke now it would all become real and he would stop because, as he had so poignantly noted, this can’t happen.  And both of you knew that… so maybe it would be easier to let it happen if neither of you really acknowledged it.

Luckily, he didn’t tease you too long, reaching under the fabric and swiping the rough pads of his fingers over your slickened folds.  You choked on your gasp, accidentally digging your nails into his shoulders when he drew delicate circles around your clit.  All at once, he suddenly pushed those fingers right inside you and your back arched; you needed so much more than just his fingers but the way they twisted and curled against your walls was nearly perfect as well.  

They didn’t stay long, quickly pulling back as you watched him quickly open his trousers just before you felt the head of him pushing up to your entrance.

His eyes met yours, dark with need, yet somehow clearly asking you for permission, making sure this was what you wanted: and fuck, you wanted it more than anything.  The moment that you nodded, he began to push forward— slow and deliberate, but unyielding.  

Perhaps as a perfect healthy college student in a male-dominated major, you had no real excuse for it to have been so long since you’d had sex.  As you liked to put it: dating as a woman in computer science means the odds are good but the goods are odd.  Truth be told, you weren’t sure at this point if having had sex any time in the past year would’ve prepared you for him anyway.  It felt like he was forging a new path inside you— certainly a wider one than anyone else ever had since he was so thick.  

With his hips fully seated against yours, the tip of his cock just reached the end of you, just barely brushed over those sensitive spots you didn’t even know you had before.

It stung a bit to be filled this thoroughly, so it was no wonder you were biting down on your lip hard enough to bruise it, your fingers clutching at his shirt tightly.

“Am I hurting you?” he whispered, finally breaking the silence, voice strained like he was struggling just as much as you were (though in an entirely different way).

“A little,” you admitted.  “Please don’t stop.”

He groaned a few curses as he started to move back, and forth, and so slow you could hardly stand it.  

“Fuck,” you breathed, “oh my god, harder, please…”

A little smile crossed his face, a sharp exhale almost like a laugh, and it made your cheeks burn even hotter than they already were.  But, he obeyed, regardless, more aggressive in his movements yet not any faster as he held your hips to keep you from sliding across the desk’s glossy wood surface.

Your moans were starting to echo around the office’s beige walls at this point, and he snarled as he bit down on your neck.  “You need to stay quiet,” he hissed in your ear.  “Can you do that for me?  Can you stay quiet even when I’m making you feel so good?”

“I-I’m trying,” you whimpered, “your cock is… so deep…”

“Oh, I know,” he cooed, voice heavy with faux pity, “poor thing, you can’t take it?”

“No!” you yelped.  “I can take it!  Please, please don’t stop.”

“I won’t have to if you stay quiet, darling, we can’t have somebody hearing you now can we?” he chuckled, licking and sucking at your pulse point as your eyes rolled back in your head.  “We can’t have somebody hearing you cry for me, and coming in here, and seeing you laying on my desk getting fucked by your professor, right?”

What the hell was wrong with you that that idea actually turned you on?  Why did it actually make you want to moan louder until everyone could hear you?

And when his cock speared right against that spongy spot inside you, you did exactly that and he had to suddenly clamp his hand down over your mouth.

“Fuck,” he growled, “you’re going to get us both in trouble.”

Your attempts at apologies were totally incomprehensible with his hand over your mouth, not that they were likely to have made much sense either way.

Blinking your eyes shut, your legs began to quiver slightly as he rutted into you, your toes curling inside your loafers.  You felt so full you could hardly stand it, stretched so wide that you were forced to feel every detail of his cock as it filled you.  Already your walls were bearing down on him; you couldn’t help it, it was like your body was just his instrument now and instinct had taken control of your movements.  

His accent was definitely stronger now as he whispered in your ear, praising you gruffly.  You knew from the beginning that you loved high marks and encouragement from your teachers, but this… this was different, and you hadn't known how much it would affect you.

"Good girl," he breathed, "you're taking me so well, draga, you feel so perfect around me."

You whined from behind his hand and he chuckled at your obvious neediness.

"You like making me feel good, darling?" he presumed, his smile pressing against your neck between nipping kisses to your pulse point.  "You like knowing that I can barely take this tight cunt gripping me so well, that I'm already addicted to your precious body and want to fill it with my seed?"

With your eyes rolling back in your head you nodded feverishly, heavy in your state of total delirium as he pumped his cock deep into you over and over.

You reached up to try to pull his hand away from your mouth, and he met your gaze with fire in his eyes.

“If I take my hand away, will you be good?” he challenged, and you nodded feverishly.  He was a bit hesitant but slowly moved his hand down, and though you did have to keep biting your lip, you managed to restrain yourself.

Every drag of the ridge of his head inside you was somehow more intense than the last, somehow hitting right at your spot and it was like each rough thrust knocked his name out of your mind and onto your lips until you were chanting it like a prayer, or a plea.

And each time you said it, he fucked you harder, snarling and whispering your name back to you a few times, in between little praises; "Beautiful," he mumbled, "such a sweet little girl… such a perfect cunt."

“I— fuck, I’m gonna—” you stammered your warning.  

“Will you come for me?” he finished for you, and you nodded quickly.

“Fuck, I’m so close,” you hissed.

It was obvious just by the build-up that you were going to come hard, pleasure tightening in your core until you were sure that it would spill over but it just kept going, making you wonder if it would ever reach the breaking point.

And oh boy did it, it slammed into you in fact, and your legs quivered as you struggled for air.  He growled in your ear, fucking you harder through it all, stroking every place that had only become even more sensitive.  The moment you could form words again, you were wasting the ability on a string of swears and promises you couldn’t keep.

“Yours, fuck, it’s yours,” you sobbed.  He chuckled a little, pulling back to examine your face which must have given away how fucked-out and cockdrunk you were already.

“Say it again,” he demanded darkly, holding you tighter, fucking you a bit more deliberately though not any less aggressively.

“Yours,” you gasped, cut off by a rough and dominating kiss.  Your moans were lost to his tongue but he didn’t need them to know you were coming, the way your body gripped him tighter than ever was sign enough.

“So good,” he whispered against your lips, “you’re doing so good for me…”

His words washed over your skin and soothed you like a salve, bringing some relief from the overwhelming feelings his body was assaulting yours with.

All things considered, he was still moving rather slowly, each of his thrusts measured and patient, and never really changing speed even as you were coming around him.  Weak little cries fell from your throat each time his hips met yours and the tip of his cock kissed the deepest parts of you.

Your body went limp in his arms and you hadn't noticed before how good it felt for him to hold you, for his strong hands to support you like it was nothing.  His thumb gently stroked your back through your shirt and you mewled weakly into his shoulder.

"So good, draga, so fucking good," he mumbled, holding you closer.

"Please… faster," you whimpered, "I want you to come."

"Is that what you want?" he taunted, ignoring the way you nodded immediately.  "You want to make me come, darling?"

"Yes, please, want it so much," you gasped.

He finally sped up, though it was still nothing like the lightning-speed jackhammering you were used to from guys your age: it was better, certainly, especially when he lifted your leg onto his shoulder and pushed so deep you saw stars.

The second one seemed to hit you all at once, almost out of nowhere, and you heard yourself mumble, “Professor, I’m coming.”  It sounded a bit pitiful, the way you said it, but he apparently didn’t mind as you felt him nod encouragingly in the crook of your neck.

You felt totally drained by now, exhausted even though all you’d been doing was lying there and taking it, but you knew he wasn’t done with you yet.  But, if the way his thrusts were becoming more desperate and erratic were anything to go by, he might be done with you soon.

"I'm going to come inside you," he groaned against your ear.  You were, like, 99.9% sure that if you told him not to, he would pull out, but the way that he phrased it, like a demand, like you didn't have a choice and he would do it either way… it had an effect on you, one he noticed when your channel tightened around him instantly.  "Oh, you like that idea, hm?  You want to be full of my come?  Your sweet little cunt is already trying to milk every drop from me."

"Yes," you breathed, "fuck, I want your come in me, please!"

He sped up quite a bit then, each slam of his hips into yours making you choke on a whine, your arms weakly clinging onto him for dear life.

You could feel his cock swelling, flexing, pushing your body to its limits as he moaned lowly through his teeth, streams of come making you feel warm and full.

He didn't stop until every drop was in you, thrusting in time with each pump of his release until he slowed to a stop.

Strands of hair fell into his face as he hung his head, panting hard and fast.  You melted back onto the desk, realizing this might be the first time in a solid half hour your back wasn’t arched.

It was a bit of a struggle to keep your eyes open against the heavy fog of afterglow that filled your mind; you couldn’t remember the last time you felt so… satiated.  As a college student, you were always thinking about the next assignment, mentally re-evaluating your calendar, or preparing for something— and usually all on less than six hours of sleep.

But now your mind was as close to a blank slate as it had been in at least a decade.  Even though you probably should’ve been, you weren’t even thinking about the potential consequences of this, the implications, the risks.  No, you were just staring up at him, thinking about kissing him again.

He would have to lean down for that, though; there was no way you were going to sit up now.

You hadn't even noticed that you had closed your eyes, almost falling asleep right there on his desk, until you felt his hand cradle your face softly, a calloused thumb rubbing over your cheek.

In unison, the both of you sighed deeply.

As much as it felt like a real effort, you blinked open your eyes and looked up at him, watching him comb his fingers through his hair.  It only messed up the style even further yet he looked better than ever.

He slowly moved his hips back, leaving you annoyingly empty, and readjusted himself until he almost looked put together again… but his collar was still uneven and his lips still looked bitten and there was still that precious pinkish hue on his cheeks.  If anyone else saw him in this state, they’d either know what happened between you two or think he’d just run across campus or something.

If anyone else saw him in this state, you’d be a little jealous, to be totally honest.

You got back to work trying to right your appearance as well, though you knew the best you could hope for was only mildly presentable; he looked at you like you’d never looked better, though.

“Well, this was fun,” you chuckled breathlessly, “but it’s getting pretty late and I have an eight a.m. tomorrow…”

“Yeah, so do I,” he nodded, glancing away.  

You picked up your bag from where you’d dropped it by the door, lifting the strap over your shoulder and starting to turn to leave.

"I… I should walk you back to your dorm," he announced, making you smile.

"That's sweet, but save your chivalry.  I can take care of myself just fine."

"But—"

"I think it's safer if we're not seen together walking together by my dorm," you interjected, "especially when I'm walking a little funny…"

"I hope I didn't hurt you," he winced sympathetically.

"No, trust me, that was… exactly what I needed," you breathed.  He smiled a little, looking down at the floor.

"Then I'll see you in class," he nodded, watching you closely as you stepped back and picked up your bag, starting to leave his office with one last small wave goodbye.  “Wait, wait!” he whispered harshly just before you could let go of his door, and you giggled as he leaned out into the hall and glanced around to make sure no one was nearby.  

When he confirmed the coast was clear, he smiled and grabbed your face with one hand, pulling you into a sudden kiss.  And you smiled too— you couldn’t help it— as you kissed him back, almost ready for him to drag you back into that office and start this all over again.  He did let you go, though, with one more whispered ‘goodnight’ and a look that made your heart do little somersaults.

As you finally did make your way back to your dorm, you tried to figure out if that was a goodbye kiss or a ‘see you soon’ kiss.  Or maybe a ‘thanks for the one-time office quickie’ kiss?  But you didn’t know enough about this sort of thing to know if that was even an option.

All you did know was that you really hoped it wasn’t the last kiss you’d have with him.

Can I speak to you in my office today after class?  Thank you.

-Z

You may ask yourself: can one simple email, in only thirteen words, strike fear into the hearts of those who read it?  And the answer is yes, assuming that email is from Professor Helmut Zemo and read by the lovestruck student who slept with him two days ago and hasn't stopped thinking about it since.

Only one of a few things could happen in his office after class, and there was a massive gap between the best and worst case scenarios.  You dressed for the best but prepared yourself psychologically for the worst.

You caught him staring as you walked past the teaching podium to your seat in the front; you just hoped nobody else caught him.  And if you'd thought paying attention in class was tough before, boy oh boy was it a challenge now.  The nerves of what he wanted to discuss with you were bad enough alone, but that combined with memories from two days earlier randomly assaulting your psyche was just overwhelming.

When he pointed at the map with two fingers, you could remember exactly how those fingers had felt inside you, twisting and curling and getting you ready for his cock.

When he spoke, you could hear the difference in his voice compared to how he groaned out his praises while he was fucking you within a damn inch of your life.

And every once in a while, when he couldn’t help but glance at you for a moment, his gaze burned right through you; you were helpless to those brown eyes, completely paralyzed by them, and it must’ve been hours of that before class finally ended.

For the first time, you were the first person out the door when he released the class.  As much as it was going to be a little bit weird to beat him to his office, it was certainly better than any of your other options.  There was a chair in the hall beside the door, and you took a seat and pretended to read a book just to look busy (there was no way you could actually turn symbols on a page into readable language right now, not when you knew he’d be here any minute to talk about… something).

Your peripheral caught him coming down the hall, but you pretended to be deeply immersed in your book until he was right beside you, unlocking his door and opening it for you and himself.  Tucking your book away and following him inside, you found him already staring at you, expression completely unreadable.  Your gut sank in anticipation of whatever conversation this was going to become, and a moment passed in heavy silence.

"Hi," you greeted plainly, letting out a quick breath.

"Hi," he returned.  "Close the door behind you."

You nodded and did as you were told, quietly pushing the wood back until the door latched before approaching where he had come to stand beside his desk.  Though you didn't originally intend to, you found yourself standing a bit too close.

"I'm not quite sure where to start," he admitted, chuckling breathlessly as he reached up to rub the back of his neck.  He looked cute flustered, which was a shame because his tone seemed to imply you needed to not be thinking about how cute he was.  “Listen, you should know that what happened before… it was a mistake,” he sighed.  “It can’t happen again.”

“Do you regret it?” you asked point-blank.

“It can’t happen again,” he repeated in lieu of a real answer, and you looked closely at his face; you didn’t find as much confidence there as you were looking for, it wasn’t the face of a man who knew he was making the right choice.  You certainly didn’t think he was making the right choice.

“Why did you want to have this conversation alone in your office, then?” you challenged.

He cleared his throat slightly.  “So no one would hear us.”

“Hear us talk?” you pressed.  “Is that all?”

“That’s… definitely the plan,” he nodded, swallowing dryly.  "Like I said, it was a mistake— my fault, not yours.  And I just hope we can put it behind us respectfully."

“All the best mistakes are made at least twice,” you whispered, reaching up to trail your finger down his lapel.  “Don’t you think?”

“Don’t do that,” he requested tensely.

"Do what?"

"That," he hissed.  "Stop being… irresistible," he clarified, eyes darting from your lips to your finger to your eyes and back again.  "A man can only take so much.  I'm trying to do right by you."

"You already did when you fucked me that good," you smirked.  "Nothing else could be as right as that."

Your fingers were just barely brushing over his belt when he grabbed you by the wrist.  Jaw tight and eyes solemn, he shook his head.

You wrenched out of his grasp with a nod.  It was worth a shot, but you didn't want to be that person who couldn't take no for an answer— so, you gave him a little smile and readjusted the strap of your bag.  “Well, if it was just the once, then you should know that I’m still glad it happened.  Even if it shouldn’t have.”

He nodded, strategically not speaking— but you knew he would agree, if he could.

“And if it’s any consolation to you now, you were the best I ever had.”

You reached for the doorknob, just starting to turn it and open your way out when he suddenly slammed it shut with a hand right above your head, making you gasp and spin around to look up at his dark gaze.

“Professor…” you whispered.

“The best you ever had?” he repeated, grinning proudly when you nodded.  “Oh, sweetheart, I wasn’t even trying.”  He leaned down to brush his lips against your ear as he whispered to you: “You don’t even know yet how good I can make you feel.”

A shiver ran up your spine; your tongue darted out to lick your lips.  “Are you going to get on with it and show me?”

He didn’t even let you step away from the door, dropping to his knees right there and pushing up your skirt to kiss and bite your thighs.  “Only if you ask very nicely,” he taunted with a brow raised in challenge.

“Please,” you breathed, “fuck, please, want you to taste me.”

His hands slid up your legs, grabbing the hem of your panties before sliding back down.

It wasn’t like you’d never been eaten out before, but this still felt like a first considering your skirt was pushed up to your waist, your panties were pulled down to your ankles, and even just one slow lick over your folds made it obvious he knew exactly what he was doing.

“F-fuck,” you choked, reaching down to weave your fingers into his hair.  He grinned against your skin and kept going, exploring you carefully before finally sucking on your swollen clit.  Your knees threatened to buckle, your head fell back against the door so hard it almost hurt, but all you could really feel was his mouth on you, moving like he knew your body better than you did.

So it was no wonder, then, that you already began to spiral towards your release, legs shaking around his head as he devoured you mercilessly.

"Oh my god, I—" you tried to warn him, but he already knew, and he pulled back to wipe his mouth with his sleeve and stand up.  He grabbed your jaw and kissed you roughly, stopping to whisper to you so close that his lips brushed against yours.

"I'm sorry, draga, but you've spoiled me… now that I've felt you come around my cock, I can't imagine making you come any other way.  I need to feel your cunt grip me so fucking tight… it's all I've been thinking about since I last saw you," he admitted.

"I thought about it, too," you sighed.  "I was up all night trying to make myself come as good as you did but I couldn't… your come was still leaking out of me."

He growled and leaned in to nip at your ear.  "Oh, poor thing… I can imagine it so easily, you laying in your bed with your legs spread, fingers getting exhausted from playing with your little pussy too much, these perfect lips whining for me because you need me to take care of you."

"H-Helmut, please," you whimpered.  

"Yeah, something like that," he smirked.

"I can't wait any more, just fuck me.  Need you inside me," you breathed.

"Then bend over my desk."

{part 2}

[emmyhem]

job well done (l.r.h)

a/n: hi!! long time no post. so i’m finally back posting again, i’ve been really busy with work recently and haven’t been feeling as motivated to write when i’m off but I was finally able to get this one ready to post. so this is part two of “don’t mind the heat” with assistant!y/n, it’s mostly smut so if that’s not your favorite i’m gonna be posting a childhood bff!luke piece soon. anyway I hope you’re all doing well, comments and criticisms are always appreciated. if you have any suggestions or ideas, while my requests are closed, there’s a form further down on my blog called “what’s next” where you can give me a suggestion of what you’d like to see and vote for which of my wips i’ll be posting next. with that all being said, I hope you enjoy - emmy <333

pairing: luke hemmings x assistant!y/n 

summary: it’s finally time for you and luke’s first date and you were promised a night of movies, and popcorn. but how much watching will you really be doing?

warning(s): swearing, smut, oral sex (female receiving) 

word count: 3.4k 

pt.1 

“Don’t psych yourself out, it’s just Luke.” your friend said from where she sat on your bed watching you obsessively tuck and untuck your hair behind your ear, unsure which way suits you best. 

It’s just Luke. 

Only it’s not just Luke, it’s Luke your boss. Luke who somehow manages to awaken slews of butterflies in your tummy from just entering the room. Luke who writes your paychecks. Luke who gave you the best night of your life. It’s Luke and that’s a big deal. 

“I feel like I have a giant pit in my stomach.” you admitted, finally deciding on tucking behind your ears. 

“Eat something babe.” she suggested. 

You swallowed thickly, scrunching up your face in disgust. 

“I can’t, I'll throw up.” you responded, the idea of mixing food with your colossal nerves making you slightly nauseous. 

Your friend stood to her feet, walking up to where you sat at your vanity and placing both hands on your shoulders. 

“There’s no reason to be worried, okay? From what you’ve told me the kid’s essentially obsessed with you.” 

You smiled down to your lap at her words. 

“I really like him.” you mumbled, not looking up. “What if I get all awkward and fidgety like I normally get on dates?” 

“You won’t.” she assured. 

“Oh my god, I totally will.” you groaned. “I’ll get all choked up, and I won’t even know what to say when I see him.” 

“y/n, you see him literally everyday.” 

“This is different.” you argued. 

Things were different now. 

Some things had remained the same since you had returned from the trip about a week and a half ago. You still went to work each day, completed your tasks, spent copious amounts of time walking in the harsh California heat with Petunia, and then made your way back to your apartment to binge watch tacky rom-coms in the privacy of your bedroom. But there were some small changes since the trip, like Luke no longer greeting you each morning with a casual wave but instead by pressing a quick kiss to your lips, followed by a heartfelt mumble of, “G’morning, missed you.” 

Other than your quick interactions in the morning you hadn’t been seeing much of him, the album process was moving along quickly and he’d been at the studio almost all the time, normally returning after you had already gone home for the night. Due to his newly busy schedule the anticipated first date had to wait, but that morning as you arrived, bright and early to take Petunia to the groomers, Luke had mentioned he wouldn’t be working late. 

“Up for a movie tonight?” he had questioned casually before heading out. 

“Like a date?” 

“Our first date.” he said, grinning ear to ear. “If I’m remembering correctly, I promised you a Marvel movie, and Petunia.” 

“And popcorn.” you interrupted, making him laugh. 

“And popcorn.” he repeated to assure you. “Anyway, I managed to convince Mike to let me borrow some of  his DVDs, so if you’re free?”

“I’m free.” you blurted out, so eagerly you were almost embarrassed. 

“Great. I have to head to the studio right now, but I’ll text you the time.” he said, crossing the room to leave a peck on your cheek. “Can’t wait.” he continued as he pulled away. 

As you went about your day, the date approaching quickly, a bundle of nerves had started to build in your stomach causing you to panic by the time you had gotten back to your apartment. In need of moral support you called over your friend who essentially held your hand through the entire getting ready process, giving her input on possible outfits, and making the final call on what lipgloss you’d later be leaving traces of on Luke’s lips. Now as you sat in your room putting your shoes on, 20 minutes until you had to go to Luke’s she was providing you with words of encouragement, and, annoyingly, stressing the importance of condom use. 

“I promise I’ll be safe.” you guaranteed, crossing the room to smack a kiss to her cheek. “You were a huge help tonight, thank you. I’ve gotta head out but you can stay as long as you want, just lock the door when you leave?” 

“You got it.” she nodded. “Just don’t drive yourself crazy, you’ll do great.” 

You swallowed a lump in your throat and thanked her once more before heading out to your car. 

As you put your keys in the ignition your phone dinged from where it sat in your cup holder. When you picked it up it revealed a text from Luke with a picture of Petunia sprawled across the couch, the message underneath read, “Patiently awaiting your arrival.” and it made you wonder why you were so nervous in the first place. There’s no way you could embarrass yourself, Luke wouldn’t let you. 

The drive was quick and easy, you took the same route everyday to work so it was essentially muscle memory at this point. As you pulled into the driveway you gave yourself one more internal pep talk and reapplied a thin layer of cherry flavored gloss onto your lips before heading to the door. Luke swung it open before you even had the chance to knock, Petunia sitting by his feet panting excitedly. 

“Hi.” he chirped, his body falling slack against the doorway as he took in your near ethereal state. 

“Hi.” you returned, snaking your arms around his torso as you entered. 

“Y’look gorgeous.” he praised, pressing his lips to the top of your head. 

“Not so bad yourself.” you returned, nuzzling further into his side.

You wandered through the kitchen, Luke's hands trailing further down your skin as you walked towards the living room. 

He explained how his day was as you walked, grabbing a bag of popcorn on the way. You nodded along and offered words of praise when he explained that they had a very productive day in the studio. 

“How ‘bout you?” he asked after finishing his recount of the day. 

At this point you had made it into the living room, and had -unfortunately- detached from one another. You dropped to the couch and Luke stood by the tv, fiddling with the dvd player. 

“Well,” you started. “First I took Pig to the groomers, but you already knew that.” 

As if on cue Petunia clambered into the room, nearly knocking Luke off his feet as she made her way to you. 

You laughed and reached out a hand to rub her head affectionately. 

“Did you hear us talking about you, pretty girl?

“I need to put some distance between the two of you.” Luke teased. “It’s like I don’t even exist when you’re around.” 

“We have a connection.” you threw back. “It’s a girl thing, you wouldn’t understand.”

Luke laughed and gathered a few DVDs in his hand, muttering, “Snubbed again.” 

“Movie time?” you asked.

“Infinity war?” he responded, holding up the disc. 

“Not unless you want to deal with the aftermath of Peter disappearing, and it involves a lot of tears.” 

Luke raised an eyebrow at you. 

“I have a soft spot for Tom Holland.” you added, pressing a hand to your heart.

“Right then,” he laughed. “Iron Man?” 

“Excellent choice.” 

As the intro played Luke settled beside you, hip to hip, and close enough that he could lean his head on your shoulder comfortably when the opportunity presented itself. 

You watched intently, grateful for the distraction from his mind muddling proximity, only getting interrupted by Luke’s repetitive yawning. 

“Are you tired?” you asked when he yawned for the third time within the span of ten minutes. 

“Hm?” he quipped, straightening his posture. “Not really.” 

You raised an eyebrow at him. 

“A little bit,” he admitted. “It was just a busy day in the studio today. I’m really more mentally drained than tired.” 

“Here,” you said, scooting a bit further down the couch. You patted your lap as an indication for him to lay his head down. “When I was in highschool and I’d be super stressed or had a really long day my mom would play with my hair for hours and it would really help me to relax.” you explained. “It works like a charm, promise.” 

“Are you sure this isn’t an excuse for you to touch my hair?” he teased, already moving towards you. 

“Caught me.” you shot back. 

As Luke settled, curling his legs up in an effort to keep them from hanging off the couch, your hand  found its way into his hair, stroking lightly from the root. 

He hummed in content as your movements found a steady rhythm. 

“Feels nice.” 

“Happy to help.” you muttered, turning your attention back to Robert Downey Jr. 

Only five minutes or so had passed before your focus on the movie was stolen once again, this time by the feeling of Luke’s hand, which had been resting on your knee, inching further up your skin, pausing sporadically to run his fingers across the smooth surface.

“Luke, what’re you doing?” you asked through shallow breaths. 

“Nothing.” he returned, feigning innocence. 

You huffed quietly in frustration, but attempted to continue watching, as his hand had become stationary again. 

 That lasted all of 2 minutes.

“Luke,” you sighed. 

“What?” 

“I thought you were tired.”

“M’not anymore.” he mumbled, pinching the skin of your upper thigh.

You jerked a bit but remained relatively unfazed.             

 “Good, we’ve got a movie to watch.” 

“Or we could do something else.” he preened quietly, turning his head so he could nudge the spot he had pinched with his nose, as if soothing his previous actions. 

Only there was nothing soothing about it, and you were anything but relaxed. You could practically feel your arousal spreading in the light blue lace panties you had selected earlier that night.

“They match his eyes.” you had teased, flinging them across the room to your friend, who dodged them easily and gave you a disapproving look. 

“You’re odd.” she laughed, shaking her head.

It was hard to laugh about them now as your mind turned to mush and the only thing it could conjure up was vivid images of Luke ripping them off of you. 

Luke’s voice broke you from your thoughts, “Missed you.” he hummed sweetly. 

Your fingers unconsciously tightened on his hair eliciting a subtle groan. 

“Missed you too.”  

As you spoke your eyes drifted down his features, cataloguing them in your brain. 

Luke could feel your eyes on him, practically burning into his head, making it exponentially harder for him to keep his hands to himself for much longer. 

He darted his gaze up to you, slyly muttering, “You’re missing the movie baby.” 

You sighed lightly at the pet name, your breath catching as Luke sat up abruptly, capturing your face in his hands.

His lips slotted effortlessly against yours. 

Your brief kisses over the past week had no comparison to what you were experiencing now, fireworks erupting in your brain, and nerves buzzing in your stomach. 

The kiss was nowhere near perfect, in fact it was needy and a bit sloppy but each time your tongue collided with his you felt dizzy and desperate, for his hands, his mouth, him. 

As his kisses traveled down your jaw to your neck your head dropped to the side, making your eye catch on the tv. 

“Luke, the movie.” you reminded, your voice taut. 

“We’ll finish it in the morning.” he breathed, clicking it off in one swift motion. 

“Bit presumptuous to assume I’ll be staying the night.” 

“Bit presumptuous to assume there’s anyway I’m letting you out of my bed after I'm done with you.” he threw back before smacking a quick kiss to your neck and pulling you to your feet. 

The walk to Luke’s bedroom was a blur of explorative hands and teasing words, your need for him taking you there in record time. 

When your back eventually knocked against his bedroom door, pressing him against you snugly, he tugged greedily on the clothes covering your burning skin. 

“Lu” you mewled, your hand searching aimlessly for the doorknob. 

By the time you found it, both of you stumbling clumsily into the room, you were almost completely naked. 

Luke’s eyes, completely fogged with lust, wracked over the vast expanse of skin in front of him, his hands itching with need beside him. 

After seamlessly guiding you over to the bed he pulled his shirt over his head, allowing you a chance to admire the tensing of his muscles as he stretched his arms into the air.

You dropped to the mattress, making it bounce a bit beneath you. 

“So pretty.” Luke said, running a knuckle lightly across your collarbone. You shivered under the touch, making him grin smugly. 

“Lay back back for me, baby?” 

You compliantly laid flat, Luke’s hands tight on your hips. 

His fingers traced slowly down your thighs causing you to languidly throw your head back.

“Need to taste you” he announced, voice gruff, fingers running across your hips lightly. 

You agreed with a breathy moan, bucking your hips up in the process. 

His hands gripped tightly on either side of you, fingers marking your hips in light purple bruises that looked nearly too pretty for him to handle. 

When his tongue finally met the sensitive area of nerves just above the place where you needed him most you jerked upwards, clenching around nothing as his tongue explored the new area. 

He had been fantasizing about tasting you since the night at the vacation house, wanting nothing more than his tongue relentlessly flicking over the tightly wound bud until you had that hazy, fucked look in your eyes that turned him into putty in your hand.

His hands remained tightly secured to your hips which were thrusting up eagerly, despite his hold.

“So fucking soaked f’me” he groaned, fingers lazily running over the sopping area beneath him.

“I could take you so easily baby”  he continued, lightly tracing his tongue over your opening, making you clench. “Slip in so nicely,” 

“Please,” you breathed, tightly. 

“D’ya need me, love?” he teased, cruelly. 

You nodded repeatedly, body lying exhausted on the mattress. 

“Need you, Lu.” you begged. 

In between strategically placing kisses across your hips and thighs, he spoke, “Been needing you all week, I could hardly get any work done knowing you were sitting at my house all by yourself.” 

The hazy image of your body pressed so tightly against his made getting anything done nearly impossible. Every strum on his guitar reminded him of  how flawlessly your fingers had played him. Every grueling harmony at the very top of his register echoed one of your sweet and haunting sighs of pleasure.

 So, for his time spent at the studio Luke was left wondering how he was supposed to focus on making new music when the the music the two of you had created together was on a constant loop in his mind. 

And he desperately needed more. 

He continued to run his tongue across your heat, his movements being the exact opposite of how he was feeling. He moved slowly against you, unrushed, and thorough. 

Your tear filled eyes locked on the ceiling, squeezing shut each time the tip of his nose bumped your clit. 

“Oh,” you choked when you felt two fingers begin a gentle prod at your needy opening. 

Luke groaned at your sounds of pleasure while circling your entrance teasingly. 

“Need something, Luke. Please.” you begged, as his fingers continued their mocking assault. 

He mouthed eagerly at your bare chest and slipped a finger in seamlessly, making you yelp in need. 

When you clenched around his single digit he spoke, “Feels good?” 

Your head bobbed up and down enthusiastically, hips pushing onto him for a deeper thrust. 

“Good, baby.” he praised, teasing another finger. 

You whined desperately as a heat traveled down your body, swirling in a flustering pit at the bottom of your stomach. 

“Nice and tight f’me, love.” he preened, slipping in another finger and speeding up his thrusts. 

When his fingers curled up, brushing against your g-spot you whined loudly. 

“Does that feel good, gorgeous? Show me how good you feel. C’mon, come around my fingers.” he commanded, the pacing of his thrusts speeding up significantly. 

He loved seeing you blissed out, completely at his mercy, pleasure overtaking you. 

You bucked defenselessly against him, chasing your release as satisfied moans and whines passed your lips, only encouraging Luke in his ravenous exploration of your heat.

Reaching your climax, your walls fluttered around his fingers, causing his cock to grow painfully hard in the constrictions of his pants. He offered heartfelt praises of, “good girl” with each spasm of your body while sliding a condom down his tender length. 

As you came down from your high, your head feeling lighter, and your body feeling heavier, seemingly sinking further into the mattress, Luke adjusted himself, complimenting your dazed expression as he aligned his aching member with your, now, leaking entrance. 

Before pushing into you he leaned down to attach his lips to yours, his tongue running against yours with a heavy sigh. 

A high pitched grunt rang through the room as he ran his head through your folds, slowly sliding his lips lazily from your mouth down your jaw. 

Breaking apart from you, he spoke through a gruff voice, “Please say you’re ready for me, baby.” you could feel his hot breath against your neck and you unconsciously pushed off the mattress, causing his head to dip into the slippery heat of your cunt. 

His breath hitched at the feeling and a quiet cry of approval gave him all the reassurance he needed to bury himself into you, eliciting a throaty yelp. 

His forehead fell against yours, the thin sheen of sweat covering the both of you creating a humid atmosphere, completely silent other than the saturated sounds of your bodies crashing together. 

“Baby,” he sighed brokenly, the feeling of you so close overwhelming him in record time. 

You clenched around him at the pet name, making his eyebrows pull together, his thrusts slowing in an effort to prolong your intimacy. 

“You gonna give me one more, angel?” he quipped confidently, the head of his cock nudging overwhelmingly against your most sensitive spot. Each nudge sent a wave of pleasure over your body from the very top of your head to the tips of your toes. The unrelenting pace and force soon left your body numb with it, making you incapable of doing anything but chanting Luke’s name, soft and breathy, and so fucking pretty he would do basically anything to ensure you didn’t stop. 

With a particularly forceful prod of your sensitivity your vision went blurry, the fuzzy image of stars overtaking you as your strained cry, accompanied by a throbbing grip on his length brought him to his own climax. 

His right hand slammed against the bed frame with a loud smack as you unwinded around him, while his left held your hip tightly, squeezing with each spasm of your hips. 

When he pulled out of you, with a hiss, he soothed the empty sting it left behind with a sincere kiss to your hairline. 

“So perfect.” he hailed, a hand rubbing soothingly on the sensitive smoothness of your thigh, as he took his spot beside you. 

Your bare chest heaved beside him, your head dropping to the side to admire the soft flutter of his eyelids as exhaustion carried across his face. 

You felt a fizzle of heat down your legs, carrying all the way to your toes, uncurling as you settled into a comfortable buzz of pleasure. 

The feeling of a soft kiss against your shoulder broke you from your cloud of pleasure to see Luke peering up at you in awe. 

“Hi, sweet girl.” he spoke softly. 

Unsure you had the strength to respond in words you squeaked quietly  in response, your shaky hand intertwining with his longingly. The second they clasped his thumb began running faintly across the back of your hand. 

He looked towards the ceiling, as if overtaken by the overwhelming reality of your connection. 

“M’so gone for you.” he admitted under his breath, as you watched him in admiration. 

“Me too.” you agreed in an exhale, turning on your side to snuggle against his warm skin. 

His head turned only enough to rest his lips lightly on your hairline, “Stay the night please?” 

You nodded against his mouth in agreement, too tired to respond verbally. 

“Good, I’m not planning on letting you go anytime soon.”