#i think it just makes it way more text heavy when i did the text chapters

[wileys-russo]

(Ik it’s not a player but I love them) Solfresa “I could just take a tiny nap?”

oc x oc from my filling the void universe and @girlgenius1111 family line series

world class II fresa putellas + solstråle engen

"sol, no mi amor you cannot sleep now." fresa returned to the bedroom and noticed the norweigan starting to drift off, shaking her ankle as she groaned and opened her eyes.

"why?" the brunette sighed deeply, rubbing her face and crossing her arms over her chest with a small scowl, fresa pausing the nature documentary her girlfriend had been falling asleep to.

"the point of the schedule is to train your sleep pattern so you are well rested at all times, so you are fit to work once you start nights. which means no naps and only sleeping at the times you are supposed to mi amor." the younger girl smiled sympathetically as the norweigan groaned louder.

it had been a long grueling process for the tattooed firefighter to become qualified as so, one that the spaniard currently shaking her awake had not always been supportive of.

solstråle had failed fitness testing twice, both her sister and girlfriend trying to talk her into what they deemed a much less dangerous career path.

but solstråle had never wavered, only spending more hours in the gym and less time talking to those who she didn't think were helping her along the way.

so with a wall of silence in response to the pushback, and the lack of belief only driving solstråle harder into her training and to start developing some unhealthier habits, fresa and ingrid changed tune.

both had come around to helping solstråle instead of wasting time trying to change her mind, but the help wasn't without constant reminders that she needed to be at her most prepared as to avoid any sort of injury while on the job.

so now with fitness testing complete and all of her training finally starting to feel as if it was paying off, the girl was set to swap over from shadow shifts to a real roster, which included staying two nights a week at the station on call.

"fres, baby i could just take a tiny nap? then i will still sleep early on time tonight!" solstråle tried to bargain, pinching her thumb and pointer finger together to make a minuscule gap as fresa firmly shook her head. "not part of the plan amor." fresa smiled in amusement at the girls persistence, gesturing for her to sit up.

"you are no fun today putellas. first you have to study and i have to sit here alone to watch my show because i 'distract you'. now you come back and i am tired but you will not let me sleep?" solstråle huffed with a deepened scowl as the younger girl shook your head.

"you might not think i am fun engen, but is it fun cleaning the big trucks all day because your sister or your chief hears you are too tired to be cleared for the real work?" fresa warned lightly quirking an eyebrow and crossing her arms, solstråle's eyes widening a little in response.

"you wouldn't!" the norweigan sat up properly now with a scoff. "i would, if it meant you did not get hurt bebé." fresa promised softly, her girlfriend sighing and running a hand through her hair.

"snitches get stitches." solstråle mumbled grumpily, laying back down as her eyes began to once again feel heavy. "well you are great company today. go to sleep then, i do not care!" fresa rolled her eyes, knowing just how stubborn her girlfriend could be but not having the patience for it today, turning to leave as a hand quickly grabbed the back of her top.

"sorry! i'm just tired, and i missed you. i hate when you have exams and you have to ignore me." solstråle huffed, pulling fresa down onto the bed with her and trapping the shorter girl in between her arms and legs in a tight bear hug.

"i do not ignore you solstråle, i answered all your texts today amor, and there was a lot of them!" fresa laughed at the sudden switch in attitude from the girl, twisting her neck to sweetly peck her lips which were grumbling some sort of moody comment in norweigan.

"will you play fifa with me? i thought i was good but they have a tournament going at the station, and i haven't won a single game!" the brunette huffed, forever hotheaded and fiercely competitive as much as she could also be the softest sappy pile of mush at times too.

"do we have to? i do not have a clue how to play. in fact you and alexia told me no more playing because it was...what did you say? eh 'too hard to watch' remember?" fresa narrowed her eyes as a guilty smile curled into her girlfriends features.

one of the rare times her eldest sister actually spent any time with sol was playing fifa after a family dinner, granted that was silent bonding as alexia still refused to say more than a few words in response to solstråle's chatter.

"fresa that was ancient history, i am a much more patient woman now." solstråle grinned as the spaniard in her arms let out a loud sarcastic bark of laughter and tapped at her forearms to be let up.

"it was last week engen." fresa sat up and hovered over her girlfriend with a shake of her head, suddenly pulling back as sol tried to sit up and connect their mouths. "hey! give me a kiss." the norweigan demanded impatiently, tapping her puckered lips expectantly.

"no." fresa smiled sweetly, standing and heading out of the bedroom to make some food, not at all surprised at the sound of footsteps hurrying after her, her mami on an evening shift at work meaning the pair of them had the house to themselves for a couple more hours at least.

"solstråle!" the younger girl squealed as a body barrelled into her, almost taking her down to the floor before the well built norweigan grabbed her girlfriends hand, spinning and dipping fresa, holding her up just from falling to the floor as her heart raced.

"don't do that! its not funny." fresa hit at her girlfriends hoodie covered chest with a loud smack as she only laughed and the youngest putellas merely scowled.

trying to move past her before fresa could take another step a mouth was pressed against hers, feeling the firefighter to be smile into the kiss when fresa made no move to push her away

"you are a child sometimes. tonta!" fresa finally broke away and bonked her girlfriend on the head with a magazine that was handy within reach on the counter, only causing solstråle to smile wider, clearly proud of herself.

"food can wait, one game? it will help keep me awake." the norwegian tugged fresa gently away from the pantry with her best puppy dog eyes as fresa sighed.

"if you are turning down food, it must be serious." "please?" "fine. one game engen!"

~

"joder! how do you defend? i forget the controls!" fresa cursed in annoyance, only having had possession for about two seconds this entire half as her girlfriend knocked in goal after goal.

"solstråle!" she protested as the norweigan made her player do a backflip after another goal and cheered loudly in fresa's ear, kissing her cheek apologetically from where fresa lay between her legs, elbows resting on her knees and her back pressed to solstråles front.

"you said this would be easy." fresa complained as the game stopped for half time. "no, babe i said i would put the match settings on easy." her girlfriend corrected as fresa pinched her thigh unimpressed with the answer.

"amor you are winning 8-0 you can give me five fucking minutes to show the controls again?" fresa demanded before sol could click to resume play. "i like when you swear in english." her girlfriend mumbled, a lazy kiss pressed to her jaw as sol dropped her remote and her hands settled over fresa's.

"when you attack you click this to pass, this one to sprint. you click this one for a head pass or a short ball, and this to shoot." solstråle explained slowly, pointing out the different buttons as fresa nodded, eyebrows furrowed with concentration.

"when you defend it is this one to chase, this one to tackle, this one to slide tackle, this one to clear. then when it goes to your goalkeeper, just click this or this." the taller girl explained as again fresa nodded, doing her best to follow along but she'd already forgotten half of what was said, making a mental note to just button mash and hope.

"so does this mean you will let me have a pity goal mi vida?" fresa asked hopefully as the girl pressed behind her grabbed her own control and chuckled.

"not a chance elskling." sol stole a kiss and clicked play again before fresa could bite back with a remark, eyes widening as she hurried to rapidly click at any buttons she could reach on the controller much to her girlfriends amusement.

the second half fresa played a little better, but still failed to score and conceded another five goals making it so solstråle won with a whopping 13-0, the final whistle blowing meaning she let out a war cry of victory.

"eso fue humillante!" fresa scowled tossing the remote to the side onto the lounge and rolling her eyes, arms crossed and shoulders slumped.

"that is life no? you win some, you lose some. i feel a lot better about my games at the station now! thank you baby." the norweigans large hands settled either side of fresas face and tilted her head back so she could press kisses across the flushed skin.

"you are welcome." fresa rolled your eyes, gently tugging her hands away and sitting up, glancing to the screen only for a moment as her head snapped back to it and she frowned.

"world class? you said you put it on beginner sol!" fresa turned to glare at her girlfriend who shrugged, quickly turning off the tv and sitting up on her knees.

"did i? guess i must have clicked the wrong one babe, sorry." the norweigan grinned, pushing the shorter girl to lay down again as her smug face hovered over her girlfriends, not an ounce of remorse in her eyes.

"mentirosa! i cannot believe i like you." fresa grumbled with a scowl, solstråle pressing her face into her neck, lips scattering kisses across the warm skin.

"only like?" the norweigan whispered teasingly, tugging on fresa's earlobe with her teeth as her fingers danced across bare skin where her shirt had rode up.

"barely tolerate." fresa mumbled but all of the fire had dissapeared from her tone making solstråle smile against her neck.

"oh now what happened to love?" "maybe if you were not a dirty tramposa, you might get some engen."

[bueckersworld]

LIKE I WOULD

SYNOPSIS: you confide in your best friend paige about your boyfriend leaving you unsatisfied, not expecting her to react so seriously. she offers to show you what it’s supposed to feel like—and she means it. one kiss turns into something deeper, something undeniable, and you fall apart under her touch like never before. in the quiet after, she confesses she’s loved you all along. and this time, you finally choose her.

WARNING(S): smut — mdni, cheating, territoriality, possessiveness, pussy eating (r!receiving), jealous!bsf!paige

WORD COUNT: 2.7k RECOMMENDED SONG: like i would — zayn. info. masterlist. taglist.

────୨ৎ────

you don’t notice the look paige gives you when you start talking about your boyfriend. not really. you never do.

you’re sitting on her couch, legs tucked under you, nursing a barely-cold drink while you go on about the night before. you’re not trying to brag or anything — it’s not even worth bragging about. still, you’re rambling. maybe because you’re trying to convince yourself it wasn’t that bad.

“he just, like… stopped halfway through,” you say with a soft laugh, more bitter than amused. “said he was tired. i don’t know. i think he thought i finished already.”

you don’t look up, but if you did, you’d see her jaw tighten. her hand flexes against her thigh. she doesn’t say anything at first, and when she does, it’s low. dangerous.

“that’s it?” her voice is calm, but clipped. “he didn’t even ask?”

you finally glance up. she’s staring at the floor like it personally offended her. you shrug. “it’s whatever. i don’t want to make it a big deal.”

but it is a big deal. you wouldn’t have brought it up if it wasn’t.

paige shifts, leaning forward, elbows on knees. “you’re seriously okay with that?”

“i mean… it’s not like it’s always like that,” you lie. “he’s just… not that experienced, maybe.”

paige lets out a breathy laugh that’s anything but amused. “that’s not an excuse.”

you furrow your brows. “why are you so worked up about this?”

and that’s when she lifts her eyes to yours, and suddenly, the air changes.

her gaze is heavy. intent. you feel it all at once — her attention, her anger, her restraint, like she’s trying not to say something she’s been holding in too long.

“he doesn’t get it,” she says. “he doesn’t get you. he doesn’t know what to do with you.”

you blink. “paige—”

“i do.” her voice drops lower. steadier. “i know what you like. i’ve seen it. you try so hard to act like you’re fine with bare minimum, like it’s enough for you, but it’s not. you need someone who actually listens. who actually sees you.”

you stare at her, heart beginning to thump unevenly.

and then she says it, voice barely above a whisper:

“let me show you what it’s supposed to feel like.”

your breath catches.

she’s not joking.

she’s not smiling. she’s not teasing. her tone is so serious it makes your stomach twist in knots. “he won’t love you like i would.” she mutters quietly.

“i—” you start, but the words die in your throat.

she leans in, slower now, cautious, but her eyes stay locked on yours. “i wouldn’t leave you guessing. i’d take my time. you’d never have to ask twice.”

the room is quiet, except for the buzz of your nerves and the thunder of your pulse.

and suddenly, so much makes sense.

the way she always sits next to you, even when your boyfriend’s around.

the way she gets snippy when you text him too long.

the way she looks at you like she’s memorizing every inch.

you’ve been blind. or maybe just too scared to see it.

you don’t know who moves first. maybe it’s you. maybe it’s her.

but one second, you’re frozen, and the next, her mouth is on yours.

it’s slow at first — searching, warm, desperate in a way that doesn’t ask permission but still waits for your answer. and when you kiss her back, when your hand tangles in her hoodie and her fingers splay across your waist, it feels like breathing for the first time in weeks.

you shouldn’t be doing this.

but god, it feels so right.

she kisses you like she’s trying to erase every time you settled for less. her hands learn your body like it’s sacred, not a task. she doesn’t rush. doesn’t assume. she listens — every sigh, every hitch of your breath guiding her like a language only she speaks.

the couch cushions shift under you as she presses you back, not demanding, just wanting. and for once, you don’t want to pretend.

you want this.

you want her.

you’re completely lost in her — in the heat of her mouth, the way her tongue swirls against yours, slow and deep, like she’s trying to memorize your taste. her hands slide under your shirt with practiced ease, fingers splaying across your skin, mapping you like a place she’s always known.

she breaks the kiss only long enough to tug your shirt over your head, tossing it carelessly to the floor. her lips find yours again before you can even catch your breath, hands roaming freely now — tracing every curve, every soft dip of your body, like she’s been dying to touch you this way.

when her mouth leaves yours, it only travels down — across your jaw, the edge of your throat, open-mouthed kisses dragging heat down your neck. she makes quick work of your shorts, tugging them down with a soft grunt as her fingers skim along your thighs.

your breath hitches when she unclasps your bra with one hand, pulling the straps down your arms like it’s second nature, her mouth already chasing the new skin revealed. she kisses down your chest, slow and intentional, lips brushing your ribs and lower.

you shiver under her, and she feels it — smirks against your skin.

“just relax, baby,” she murmurs, voice like velvet, littering kisses across your stomach.

then she’s between your legs, kneeling on the floor in front of the couch, her warm breath ghosting over the soaked fabric of your underwear. she looks up at you through her lashes, eyes dark and full of hunger, before slowly pulling them down your legs. they hit the floor with a soft flutter as she pushes your thighs apart, keeping you spread and open just for her.

your gasp breaks the silence when her tongue drags a slow, deliberate line up your center. her groan rumbles against you, sending a ripple of pleasure straight through your core.

“fuckin’ hell…” she mutters, diving back in like a woman starved, her tongue flicking over your clit with a moan that vibrates through your entire body.

your back arches instinctively, hips rolling toward her mouth, soft gasps and broken moans spilling from your lips.

“oh fuck… paige—”

your hand tangles in her hair, tugging her impossibly closer, and she lets you. she wants to be closer — wants to disappear inside the way you sound when it’s her making you feel this way.

“mm, i know, baby… i know,” she mumbles against your heat, voice thick with desire.

then her fingers — two, slow and sure — slip inside you, curling upward immediately, brushing that perfect spot that makes your eyes roll back. her mouth never stops, tongue stroking and circling your clit with dizzying precision.

“fuuuuck…” you cry out, head falling back, heels digging into the cushions as your hips buck into her hand.

she switches effortlessly between sucking and flicking her tongue, her fingers pumping steadily in and out of you, scissoring you open like she was made to do this.

“just like that… oh my god, paige, just like that—” you whimper, breathless praise tumbling out between moans.

she groans in response, her eyes dark and blown as she looks up at you, her lips slick and swollen as she pulls her mouth away just long enough to speak. her fingers never stop.

“only i can make you feel like this. not him.” her voice is low, rough. “say it.”

you’re too far gone, too strung out on the edge to answer. your mouth parts, but nothing coherent comes out.

she growls, her fingers curling just right. “say it, baby — tell me this pussy’s mine.”

“y-yeah… all yours,” you moan, back arched, eyes squeezed shut. “only f—only for you…”

“yeah?” she breathes, leaning up to kiss your neck, soft and reverent. “then come for me. prove it.”

and you do.

you fall apart for her — back arching, thighs trembling, her name breaking from your lips like a prayer.

you’ve never felt anything like it.

not with him.

not with anyone.

and she knows it.

because now you do too.

—

the aftermath is quiet.

you’re still tangled in her sheets, wrapped in the scent of her hoodie, her breath warm against your shoulder.

your mind spins.

you just cheated. you cheated on your boyfriend.

but the worst part?

you don’t regret it. not even a little.

you turn slightly, looking at her in the dim light. paige is watching you already. like she hasn’t looked away once.

“i didn’t mean for that to happen,” you whisper, but it’s a lie.

she knows it. you both do.

“yeah, you did,” she says softly. “you just didn’t think you were allowed to want it.”

you feel a lump form in your throat.

“he doesn’t touch you like i do,” she adds, brushing a knuckle along your cheek. “doesn’t look at you like this.”

you close your eyes. her words remind you of the song she played in the car the other night — he won’t love you like i would. you didn’t think anything of it at the time. now it feels like a confession you missed.

“you love me,” you say, not as a question.

paige doesn’t flinch. “yeah,” she says. “i do.”

the silence sits heavy.

and still, she doesn’t pull away.

“i’ve been trying to show you for months,” she adds. “but you kept running back to someone who doesn’t even know how lucky he is.”

you turn toward her fully, voice small. “why didn’t you ever say anything?”

her eyes flicker. “because i wanted it to be your choice. i didn’t want to be your rebound.”

you nod slowly. “he’s not my choice anymore.”

she watches you carefully. “are you sure?”

you reach for her hand, fingers lacing between hers.

“i’m sure.”

—

you break up with him two days later. it doesn’t even hurt.

what hurts is how long it took you.

what hurts is the look on paige’s face when you show up at her apartment that night, eyes tired, hands trembling.

she opens the door in another hoodie, this one a little oversized, sleeves pushed to her elbows. she stares at you, unreadable.

“you okay?”

you nod. “i ended it.”

she exhales, shoulders falling slightly. “you sure?”

you step inside without answering and close the door behind you.

“he never made me feel anything,” you say, voice quiet. “not like you.”

she doesn’t move.

“and that night… with you…” you pause. swallow. “i haven’t stopped thinking about it.”

paige’s eyes darken, but she stays still. waiting.

you take a step forward. “i didn’t know what it was supposed to feel like.”

another step. she still doesn’t move.

“until you.”

her hand finds your waist again — same spot, like muscle memory. she pulls you in slow, letting the air burn between you.

“say it again,” she whispers.

you don’t hesitate.

“you make me feel everything.”

and this time, when her mouth meets yours, it’s not confusion or rebellion or recklessness.

it’s clarity.

it’s finally.

—

he wouldn’t love you like she would.

he never did.

but paige always has.

and now — you finally see it.

© bueckersworld

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬. ⋆˚꩜｡ smut smut smut, i was clenching my thighs writing this btw.. 😊

𝑤𝑖𝑡𝘩 𝘩𝑢𝑔𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑘𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑠, 𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑛𝑜𝑟

taglist: @elswhore @private-but-not-a-secret @paigebaby5 @raimund00 @bravemode @d1paigebueckersglazer @evanpeterstoe @zi0nnnn @jadasogay @fuddaround @jaylie-bee @everyonewatchesuconnwbb @mrsarnold

[alwaysmaybank]

soft rafe hours

soft!bf!rafe x reader

warnings: barely proofread, use of y/n once, really soft and mushy!

this is my first time actually writing anything fan fic related so idk if this is good or not.. sorry in advance for the people that follow me because of jj or "right in front of you" but when I made this blog I was in my jj phase and now I'm in my rafe one, so sorry! hope you like it !!

the title is so cringy help me

summary: nobody ever saw rafe like this—so soft. well, except for you, especially during soft rafe hours: at night after a long day, when you’re asleep, when he first wakes up, when you’re sick or hurt, after an argument, on rainy days, and even sometimes in bed. you loved this side of him, even if he only showed it to you. people see him as the confident, smug rafe cameron, but one phone call reveals just how different he truly is.

more under the cut!

after tossing and turning the entire night, slumber is finally taking over your eyelids. just as they start to close… ping! you could've sworn you left your phone on silent? after groaning about it and wondering who it could be, it clicks.

ping! it's rafe. this has become a familiar trend now, him not being able to sleep so he texts and texts until you reply.

ping! until you two call.

ping! you consider just ignoring it, ping! but how could you? it's rafe. plus, if you even tried to ignore him, he would come over and break the door down if he had to.

ping! you eventually open your phone, your eyes closing instinctively at the blinding brightness, six texts from rafe.

rafey:

2:14am

hey baby you up? i miss you

rafey:

2:32am

baby? are u up? y/n?

you saw him yesterday. you’re not sure what’s going on, but you suspect it has something to do with ward, given his clingy behavior.

2:35am

hey rafey

rafey:

did i wake you? sorry baby

you lie. you don't want to make him feel bad.

no no dw baby i was watching something

rafey:

oh okay can we call? couldnt sleep without you i miss you

five seconds later, you call him. “hey baby,” you hear his quiet, soft, yet raspy sleepy voice first.

“hi,” you reply tiredly.

“i missed you,” he says, and you can practically hear the radiant smile in his voice.

“how was your day?” you just had a blissfully lazy day today, some shopping on the side.

“good, i went shopping and saw that whiskey you like on the shelf, reminded me of you,” you grin over the phone.

“mm, good,” you hear him mumble out. “just missed your voice,” he continues. “couldn’t sleep without hearing you first, baby.” that’s cute.

“awh, i love you, baby,” you reply, your tired but don’t want to stay silent; you know he needs this.

“i missed you today,” rafe murmured after a beat, his voice rougher now, more raw. “whole day just felt wrong without you in it.” your chest tightened slightly, in the best way as a blush crept onto your cheeks. he said stuff like this all the time; you don’t think you would ever get over it.

“you make everything better, without even trying,” he pauses, taking in a soft breath. “like… just existing.” you didn’t know what to say, so you settled for a soft, “i missed you too, rafey.”

rafe hummed on the other side of the line, clearly content with that answer. the call goes silent for a minute, the only sound both of your soft breaths that blended together.

“don’t hang up,” he mumbled, his voice hard to get the point across but softened immensely. “jus’… stay, okay?” he whispered, and you agreed with a soft hum.

there was another long pause, and then, so quiet you could’ve thought you imagined it, a little, “love you so much, baby,” slipped past rafe’s lips. you held a chuckle in before responding, “i love you too, rafey, goodnight.” but by the time you said that, rafe was fast asleep, his breath slowing down as the gentle trance of sleep pulled him in.

as you lay there, wrapped in the warmth of his soothing voice, you felt your own eyelids grow heavy, surrendering to a peaceful slumber where everything felt right.

this is wayyyy too short stop

[blueberrisdove-sideblog2]

where he belongs. ◞❤︎ tws: gn!reader, fluff and slightly suggestive.

Every time Dilf!Mydei shows up at your door, he’s got that look—equal parts exhausted and trusting—with his wild blond hair pulled back in a loose tie and his robe hanging a little lopsided like he got dressed while wrangling a tiny hurricane. His daughter, a grumpy little thing with the same golden eyes and a tattered plush lion in her arms, peeks out from behind his leg. “Can you watch her?” he asks, already half inside, like he knows the answer. And of course you say yes, because every time he leaves his kid with you, it feels like he’s leaving a piece of his heart behind.

She’s always shy for the first five minutes, but then she warms up—drawing pictures, babbling about her papa, climbing onto your lap and demanding snacks. Mydei texts you little things throughout the day: Did she eat? Is she being a menace? Do you miss me yet? You always roll your eyes, but you reply with a photo of her curled up with her lion and your hoodie. You don’t say it, but you miss him too.

When he comes back, it’s never just a quick pickup. He leans against your doorway like he belongs there, eyes soft when he sees his daughter napping on your couch, and even softer when his gaze lands on you. “You’re good with her,” he murmurs, voice low and rough like he’s been holding back all day. “I think she likes you more than me.” You laugh, but your heart thuds a little too hard when his fingers brush yours during the handoff.

He doesn’t leave right away. He never does. Sometimes he helps clean up, sometimes he just sits beside you, his arm warm and heavy around your shoulders as his kid snores softly in your lap. There’s a comfort in his presence, like you’re already a little family in the making, like he’s testing what it feels like to come home to you. And it always ends the same: with his golden eyes lingering a little too long and his voice rough when he says, “Thank you. Really.”

You watch him carry his daughter out, one arm cradling her close while the other holds the lion she dropped, and he turns back just before leaving. “You know,” he says, “I don’t let just anyone take care of her.” He pauses, looking like he wants to say more. “It’s ‘cause I love you.” And then he’s gone, leaving you breathless in the doorway, heart full, and already waiting for the next time.

The door clicks shut, but the echo of his words—‘cause I love you—lingers in your chest like a slow burn. You press your palm to the spot, half dazed, half giddy, heart fluttering like you’re back in school and someone just passed you a folded note that says Do you like me? Check yes. You lock up, shuffle back inside, and you swear you can still feel the ghost of his fingers on yours, the heat of his body beside you, the rasp in his voice when he looked at you like you were something soft and sacred.

Later that night, you’re curled on the couch with the throw blanket still rumpled from where his daughter napped, and your phone buzzes. It’s him. Didn’t want to leave. She passed out the second we got home. Can’t stop thinking about you. You bite your lip, stomach flipping, and reply something playful—Thinking about me or the snacks I gave her?—but the second his typing bubble pops up, you already know his answer. Both. But mostly the way you looked tonight. You always make me wanna stay longer.

You don’t mean to, but your mind drifts—to how warm he always runs, how his robe always slips off his shoulder, how he stands too close like he’s daring you to kiss him first. You imagine his big hands on your waist instead of carrying a sleepy kid. Imagine what it'd feel like if he murmured “thank you” with his mouth on your neck instead of the doorway. He’s so gentle, always so careful with you, and it makes you ache in the sweetest way.

The next morning, he’s at your door again—no kid this time, just him, hair a mess, eyes heavy with something more than exhaustion. “She’s with her grandma,” he says, and he leans in before you can even ask why. His hand brushes your waist as he steps inside, and the look he gives you makes your knees weak. “Thought I’d stop by,” he says, voice low, rough, like he hasn’t stopped thinking about you either. “Didn’t get to say goodnight properly.”

And when he kisses you���slow, deep, like he’s been holding back for months—it feels like something that was always meant to happen. Like the soft smiles, the quiet thank-yous, the lingering touches were all just preludes. And now, he’s here. Just him, just you, no rush. His hands are steady, his kiss is warm, and somewhere between his sigh against your lips and the way he whispers your name like it’s precious, you realize—he’s not just a dad who loves you. He’s yours.

© 2025 blueberrisdove-sideblog2 all rights reserved. pretty please, translate and plagiarize any of my works, or either repost my works in any other platform without asking. do not copy.

[hencheri]

— true love never dies

▸ 18+ mdni.

| pairing. husband!hendery x fem!reader

| warnings. noncon, infidelity, mean!hendery </3 (he's really not how i'm used to write him), toxic relationship, breeding kink.

| wc. 4k

a.n.: i've been thinking about this for soo long pls i'm only finishing it now :c i love him oops.

the stain on the stove doesn’t seem to want to go away no matter how fast and hard you scrub. you do it over and over again, hoping each time you pull the cloth away, it’ll be gone, but it isn’t. it’s there, taunting you, frustrating you. 

but you keep going, determined to clean it, to make it disappear. it doesn’t help that hendery’s phone keeps buzzing on the counter behind you, making you go mad at every notification he receives. who the fuck is sending him so many messages? 

as you scrub harder, the stain still there, his phone buzzing, your grip tightens on the rug and you swear you see red. 

you throw the soiled cloth away and groan out, clenching your fingers around the edge of the stove. why do you have to do all the cleaning anyway? it’s not because he works all day that he shouldn’t lift a finger once home. you sigh and turn around, your eyes falling on his phone. it’s facing down, hiding the flashing screen. 

it’s tempting to look, just see who’s bugging him so much. what if it’s important? hendery would like to know. 

but it’s wrong. if he left it in the kitchen it’s because he had nothing important. 

you shake your head lightly and go back to your chore, but another ring startles you. your heartbeat quickens and you feel your nerves picking up, that familiar knot forming in your stomach. the same one you feel with your husband as of lately. anytime he enters a room, your pulse accelerates, as if you did something wrong, like you’re about to argue with him once more. 

it’s been like this for a while, maybe for a couple of months—or probably more. it’s going downhill and the two of you know it. harsh glances from across the room, curt and snarled answers, tension in the air whenever he’s close to you. 

your doubts and curiosity take over and you reach for his phone, looking down at the screen. it’s locked, of course, but you can see the notifications are all messages, but from different numbers. you frown, sliding your thumb up and checking how many times each number sent a text to your husband. at least 5 times each… in the span of one hour. 

you exhale through your nose, closing your eyes for a long second. it’s weird, but this can be explained easily. it’s just your brain making you believe things that are obviously not true. 3 numbers texted him, it can’t be all from different mistresses. it’s stupid.

after taking a shower and brushing your teeth, you head to the bedroom. hendery’s already in bed, a book in his lap. the bedside lamp casts shadows over his face, his glasses hanging on his nose, black bangs framing his head. 

he doesn’t look your way when you enter and you act like you don’t know each other, not uttering a word. when you see him like this, it hurts. you just want to cuddle up beside him like you used to, but you hold back, as if touching your own husband is inappropriate now. 

you turn to your dresser and drop your bathrobe, letting it fall on the chair near the furniture. you take your pyjamas set and slip it on. contrary to your belief, hendery does look. his eyes linger on your naked back and then the curve of your ass. he appreciates how your panties hug it perfectly, accentuating the roundness of your butt. but when you’re done, he’s focused on the page of his book.

you join him and slip under the covers, silence heavy between you. you stare at the ceiling for a few seconds before deciding to speak up. 

“who… who was texting you?” you ask and his eyes leave his book, landing on you. “it kept distracting me,” you lightly chuckle, but it sounds unsure, unnatural—like you’re trying to avoid any fight.

“sorry,” he apologizes curtly, “it was dejun. he wants to work out this week-end,” he explains and you feel a little shameful for thinking hendery was being unfaithful. he’s just planning to hang out with his best friend.

“and… the other two?” you gulp, looking at him then back at the ceiling. 

it’s your husband, you have the right to know. you should be—you are—allowed to ask, but having doubts, isn’t it wrong? with everything that’s happening though, who can blame you? it’s like you’re living with a stranger sometimes. a stranger you love to death. 

“work buddies,” he answers quickly, no hesitation. “you know we follow the scores together.”

“there was a game tonight?”

“yesterday.”

you hum lightly in response. right, you’re just the worst wife, doubting your husband’s fidelity. you feel so dumb. tears appear in your eyes, but you wipe them away before hendery can notice anything and turn the other side. not long after, you hear him closing his book, putting his glasses on top of it, and turning off the lamp, finally burying the room in darkness. 

the silence weighs down on your chest and you feel like suffocating. it hurts. it hurts so badly. you can’t help it, you just really can’t.

“...dery?” you call and you think he’s already asleep, but the rustling of bed sheets proves he’s not. 

“yeah?” his voice is raspy, soft like a hush. 

you turn around toward him. “i’m sorry. i’m…” broken, hurt, sad… you don’t know what to say, but you want to say something, anything. “sorry,” you tear up, looking at his face in the dark, his eyes meeting yours. 

he says nothing, but you hear him swallowing, his breath quickening. no words come out of his mouth as you fit yourself closer to him either, placing your hand on his cheek, feeling his skin under your palm before bringing his lips to yours. his arms come around your waist like it’s a habit—and it is, really, with how many times he encircled your body with his arms before—pulling you flush to his chest. you burn in desire, burn for your husband, burn for his touch. you love him so much.

the kiss is slow, passionate, almost desperate. he’s pressed so close to you, and you cry into his mouth. it feels good, the knot in your stomach going away. 

his hands subtly sneak under your shirt, his groping disguised into gentle strokes, and you grow needy, pushing yourself on top of him, knees dipping into the mattress on each side of him. you want him as much as he wants you. 

his cock in you is familiar and a relief. you grind on him as moans slip past your lips, his hands guiding your hips over his. your soaked cunt squeezes him like a vice and his eyes glint with lust, watching you—his wife—taking his cock so sweetly and lewdly at the same time. his lips are parted, groaning when you lift your hips up until only his tip is inside, dropping back down to take all of him. 

you lean down on him, his chest sticky with sweat, lazily rolling your hips, tears of pleasure falling from your eyes. your nails rake down his shoulders, leaving red trails on his skin. your mouth moves to his neck, kisses and bites eager to mark him, to see deep purple plotches bloom on his pale skin. he moans at the feeling of your teeth, tilting his head and exposing more of his neck to you. 

what could have been called romantic sex turns into violent fucking when hendery rolls you off and underneath him. his hand finds your throat, and as he looks into your eyes, you think for a moment he’s mad, but he quickly dives down to capture your lips, making you moan into his mouth. 

when he pulls back, you let out a high-pitched gasp as you get thrown on your tummy, hendery bringing your ass up to his crotch. he aligns his cock with your entrance and thrusts all the way in at once. he can feel your pussy flutter around him, your slicks coating his length, more sticking to his pelvis and the inner of your thighs.

“you get so fucking wet every time,” he says, gripping your hips, admiring your body, how you present yourself so well to him. “you’ve been thinking about me all day, weren’t you?”

if only he knew how much time you spend thinking about him—he wouldn’t need to ask. 

“missed you-” you moan, interrupted by a particularly deep thrust, “so much.”

he grunts, “i know you did.”

his right hand reaches out to take a handful of your hair, pulling harshly, the left one holding your hip, fingertips digging into your flesh. he pounds into you relentlessly like he’s getting some pent-up frustration out, fucking you like he actually means it—showing you his emotions, opening up to you and proving his raw, truthful love for you. 

he loves having you under him helpless and dumb, no desire whatsoever to have any control, letting hendery handle you how he wants—throwing you across the bed to pick you up and put you in the position he wants to see you in, always all teary-eyed and panting, drool escaping from the corner of your mouth once he’s forced his cock all the way inside of you. you give up so easily, no resistance, no thought, just desperation for the man that you love so numbly. 

his hips snap against your ass, sounds of skin slapping skin echoing in the room joined in with the squelching of your pussy, gushing around his cock, making a mess of your thighs. you’re desperate, really desperate. 

then, he feels the urge to see your face, stare at it—having sex the only time it feels appropriate to look at you like he wants you all to himself, body and soul. he pulls out of you briefly, and he doesn’t miss on the disapproving whine that leaves your mouth, but you’re rapidly satisfied when he flips you on your back, pushing his cock back into you in one thrust. 

he picks up his pace, no time to catch your breath, whimpering loudly as he rams his cock between your tight walls. he looks down, worrying he might have hurt you, but he’s amazed to see the subtle bulge in your stomach, moving at the same pace of his hips. you squirm underneath him which brings back his attention to you. 

he leans down over you, his head just beside yours as he takes a hold of your hand, placing it over your tummy. “do you feel me, baby?” he whispers into your ear and you nod, moaning, crossing your legs behind his back. “i feel you, too,” he says in a low voice, “so tight around me. so fucking wet and warm.”

you feel the knot in your stomach clenching, both from your near orgasm and the overwhelming rush of emotions. hendery feels that you’re close and puts his thumb over your clit, circling it until your legs shake and your hips buck into his. 

“fuck,” he slurs out, licking his dry lips, his face hidden in the crook of your neck, “gonna cum,” he breathes out, panting. 

he glances down and sticks his forehead to yours, his bangs hanging in front of his eyes. he watches as he fucks you till orgasm, your cunt tightening around his cock and making him groan. you moan when you feel him filling you up, a sensation you’ve terribly missed. 

you bring his lips to yours, hands behind his neck, pulling on his hair desperately. he stays in you until morning, only losing his warmth when he has to leave for work. 

—-

the space in the car is cramped and you struggle to move, the steering wheel hitting you in the back as you grind your hips over hendery’s, messily kissing him, his teeth biting your bottom lip. your dress has ridden up over your thighs, little to no fabric covering your ass except for your panties that has been pushed to the side to welcome his cock inside of you. you’re parked just outside of your house, but the desire to jump in his lap was stronger than you. he’s been looking too good all evening. 

his hands trail over your thighs, fingers fitting under the hem of your dress, touching you in the way he knows it makes you needy and desperate. he grips your hips and guides you over his lap, taking his cock so well, filling you up just right. 

you moan into his mouth, pulling back ever so sligthly, his half-lidded eyes staring at you drunkenly, as if completely enamoured of you. your stomach twists into knots and it’s like living your teenage crush all over again. 

but the illusion gets interrupted by hendery’s ringtone, phone vibrating in the front pocket of his pants. you smile at him and he seems a little confused until you reach into his pocket, pulling out his phone. 

you read ‘qian kun’ as the contact number and you frown, but you don’t lose your smile. “kun? i thought you told him we were dining out,” you say, looking at the phone in your hand.

“i did…” he responds, extending his arm to try and take his phone out of your hand, but you pull back.

“what? don’t you want to pick it up?” you grin, feeling playful. he smiles, letting out a small laugh, but for some reason he doesn’t seem to be keen on the idea. he attempts to take the device out of your grip once again, but you don’t let him. “come on, maybe it’s important…”

he doesn’t have time to say anything back as you pick up the call, bringing the phone to your ear. “hey, kun?” your voice is light, holding back your laugh. you look at hendery whose face is expresionless and this makes you lose your smile, feeling your heart tightens. why does he seem so tense?

as soon as you speak, the call ends. your husband is now avoiding your eyes and you see his adam’s apple bobbing as he gulps down. you glance at the screen of his phone, utterly confused and worried—your doubts coming back, but you don’t want them confirmed, anything but that. 

“he just hung up,” you chuckle, but there’s no humour behind it. hendery remains silent, looking outside the window. “unlock your phone,” you order, but he doesn’t even blink, so you insist. “open it!” you say louder, hitting his shoulder with your palm. 

your eyes fill up in water and your vision starts to blur, feeling so powerless, betrayed. you decide to do it yourself and clasp your hand around his jaw, pulling his head forward and placing his phone right in front of his face, finally unlocking it. 

with trembling hands you go through the last people he called. 

‘qian kun’, ‘kun’, ‘kun-ge’... 

why would there be 3 of them?

“why… why are there 3 numbers named after kun?” you ask, teary-eyed, throat tightening. 

he looks at you and it’s almost like his gaze is full of pity. pity for you. before he can take his phone you raise your arm up out of his reach, pushing his back against the seat, keeping him in place. 

“answer me.” 

as he keeps his mouth shut once again, you feel your hand itching, and without thinking twice, you slap your husband across the face. he scrunches his eyes shut, his head tilting to the side at the impact. his cheek slightly reddens, burning from the sharp hit. 

“it wasn’t kun who called, was it?” you question and he lightly shakes his head. you scoff and you instinctively recoil, your arm falling back to your side.

you tap on his messaging app and as expected, his most recent conversation is with ‘qian kun’. you quickly go through it, scrolling up and catching words he promised to only use with you. words that have meanings he should solely share with you, his wife. 

hendery does nothing, accepting to let you know the truth. giving up on the secrecy of his unfaithful relationship. 

you swallow and feel your tears rolling down your cheeks when you come across explicit pictures of himself and of the number he’s exchanging with. a woman your age, someone you don’t know that he probably met at work. 

the reality of the situation hits you hard, realizing what it means. 

your husband is cheating on you. 

you open the door to the passenger seat and get off of hendery hurriedly, his cock slipping out of you. when you feet land on the curb, you tug down on your dress, your cheeks hot and wet, feeling so, so shameful and hurt. 

“baby-” he calls after you as he tucks himself back into his pants, buckling up his belt. 

you storm off to the front door, throwing his phone away, not caring one bit if it shatters to the ground. hendery struggles to follow after you, but he manages to, entering the house behind you. you’re already heading to your bedroom when he closes the door, hearing your heels walking on the wooden floor. 

you take your suitcase out of the closet and set it open on the bed, scrambling to collect your things, throwing in clothes and random beauty products. you don’t even notice when he stands by the door, watching you put your stuff away in your suitcase in tears, looking so pathetic and totally destroyed—for real this time. 

your legs are wobbly in your heels and you trip over your feet, falling to your knees, failing to catch you up on the bed, but hendery is there to make sure you’re okay, reaching out to your sobbing form. 

“don’t touch me!” you burst out, your elbows knocking into his body and turning around to face him, putting distance between the two of you. “you- you cheated on me!” you accuse him, and you’re right this time. you weren’t crazy or a bad wife. your doubts were real. “you brought me to dinner, smiled at me, complimented me… and you- you touched me,” you say, looking up at him with glossy eyes, lips shining in your spit and tears. “all while knowing you were fucking some random bitch behind my back.”

you hate how he looks at you now, stoic and stern, his expression unreadable, always so unbreakable. he’s standing up while you’re crying on the floor, clutching to your chest that hurts badly, heart beating so fast it pounds in your skull. you almost wish he was trying to explain his actions with stupid excuses, or begging you to forgive his mistake, but he isn’t.

“i really thought things were going well again between us,” you admit. “i purposefully ignored all the signs because i was so desperate to have your attention…” you sniffle, looking down at the floor where a pillow lies. “but guess what, i was a dumbass thinking my husband would never be a fucking cheating piece of shit!” you grab the pillow and throw it at him before it falls pathetically to his feet, a lame attempt at getting out your anger. “how stupid am i to believe my husband loves me, right?” you say ironically, the first time he shows emotion on his face, his brows furrowing.

you get up to your feet with difficulty, taking you a second to balance yourself. “i do love you, baby.” his voice is soft and genuine, but you know better than to believe him after all those lies he told to your face without even flinching.

“cut the bullshit, dery.” you pass by him with the clothes in your hands you wanted to take, but you gasp out of surprise when he grabs you, bringing your back to his chest. you accidentally drop your clothes, his head finding a spot just beside yours. “i told you to not touch me!” you hiss, wriggling in his arms. “let go of me!”

but his hold only tightens, ignoring your nails scratching at his arms. “and i told you i love you,” he repeats, but his voice is not soft anymore. it’s a growl, an affirmation you can’t question. 

he walks you to the bed, then kicks your feet off the floor, planting you on the mattress under him. fear settles in you, feeling caged and helpless. what is he doing?

“dery, stop,” you say, trying to sound firm, but he doesn’t leave you any space, his body weighing down heavily on you. 

“don’t tell me what to do,” he warns, gritting his teeth as he speaks. he locks your arms behind your back, holding your wrists in one hand as the other fumbles with the buckle of his belt. you try to swallow the lump in your throat, more tears rolling down your cheeks, understanding the intention behind his actions. “i’m your fucking husband,” he states loud and clear, his hot breath hitting the back of your neck and making you shiver uncomfortably. “you don’t get to just leave me on a whim.”

you squirm, wanting to escape his grasp, but it’s useless as he holds you down forcefully, his strength easily surpassing yours. his free hand goes under the hem of your dress and he hooks two fingers under your panties, dragging them down without any effort, the band snapping against your thighs. 

“please, stop,” you cry out, “i- i don’t want to!” you try your best to convince him, but he’s determined to finish what you started in the car. “you cheated-”

he grabs your jaw, fingers pressing down painfully on your cheeks, making you stop what you were saying. “i swear to god,” he slurs out, “if you don’t shut your mouth, baby… i’ll have to be rougher than i actually need to be.”

his warning startles you long enough for him to free his cock out, prodding at your entrance, and with your slicks from before, he thrusts in effortlessly. he’s sheathed all the way in and you feel him pulsing in you, your walls clinging to him. you flinch, letting out a piercing sob, when he pushes the suitcase out of the way, colliding with the floor in a loud thud. 

he drives his cock back and forth inside of your pussy, but you don’t like it, you hate it, knowing everything that he did, what he’s doing. as much as the feeling of him is pleasurable, the betrayal is atrocious, your once cold and stoic husband now your abuser, pretending to love you and care for you. 

“feels so good, hmm?” he whispers in your ear, tucking your hair behind it, seeing how red and watery your eyes are. “you’re the only one i want, my love,” he coos, “the only.”

his words don’t make you feel how they should, they make you even sadder than you already are. it’s like a stab in the heart, again and again. but you take it. you keep your lips sealed unless it’s to cry or moan, you don’t fight, let him defile and use your body, let him fill you up with the promise of making you a mother. 

—-

a.n.: i realized i didn't specify it lol but the 3 numbers are all the same person, not multiple. not that it makes him less of a jerk lmfao but still...

[ellraiser]

gotta catch 'em all!!!

[envy-of-the-apple]

Third Wheel

Dark!SatoSugu x reader

(Warnings: Yandere, dark content, dark, misogynistic language, delusional behavior, kidnapping, blood, violence, +ShokoHime x reader, choking (not in the sexy way tho), threesomes, oral!F!recieving)

Synopsis: Regardless of what Satoru and Suguru tell you, you've always felt left out in this relationship. But when you leave, you quickly find out there's no line your ex-lovers won't cross to get you back

Word Count: 7.3k

When you come home that night, they're already cuddled together, watching TV. 

It's cute. Your boyfriends were always so loose with their affection. When Suguru was cooking, Satoru would lean on his back, more than happy to talk his ear off. Suguru would hold Satoru's waist, steadying him, being his anchor. At night, you'd catch them reaching for each other, trying to hold hands even in their sleep. 

It's clear to even the blind: they are soulmates. 

And you were just extra baggage. 

You don't know how you caught their eyes, but this past year was fun. They've been sweet, both of them have. Inviting you into their lives, into their home, into their bed. Everything moved so fast, but you didn't mind. You were young and a bit spontaneous. Two beautiful men showing a glimpse of interest in you wasn't something you could pass up. This was nice, while it lasted. 

But unlike them, you aren't forever. Their bond would never come close to anything they could have with you. 

It took a while for you to accept that, but eventually, you did. 

"Hey, babe," Satoru calls. "Rough day?" He lazily waves you over. Suguru grunts, before shifting over to make space. 

Despite it all, you're a coward. You don't announce it; you just stare at them. Fondly. Yes, this was nice. You don't think you could handle telling them, though; that would be too much. Seeing how little they cared would break you. 

"Yeah." You give. "Rough day." 

You weave through the house. It's theirs. Not yours. That they've made clear. You're an afterthought. It's the little things. Their toothbrushes are together, yours on the other side of the sink. Their shoes were neatly stacked side by side, and yours were always tucked away in a corner. Left out. Forgotten. Why wouldn't it be like that? They've been together for years. You were still an outsider. 

You only have a little to grab. You just grab your extra clothes, the hair clips you have a terrible habit of leaving around. Just a few items. And then the bedroom looks like you'd never been there at all. 

When you come back out, they don't notice your suitcase. Satoru laughs loudly at something happening on screen. Suguru chides him sternly. Good. It's better this way, you think as you take your suitcase to your car. You don't need any additional heartbreak. 

You make a few more rounds, collecting everything you need. Suguru only catches you when you are about to leave their house forever. 

"Angel?" He calls. "Where are you going?" 

He's looking at you, head tilted in mild curiosity. You manage to smile, looking down at your car keys. 

"Out for a drive." You shrug. "I'll be back." 

Suguru takes it at face value. He lets you go with a small 'have fun'. The walk to the car is heavy. Metal dumbbells on your shoulders. 

When you get in the seat, you finally allow yourself to sob. 

~

I'm sorry, I just can't do this anymore

That's how you ended the wall of text before blocking them. It was the coward's way out. 

"No." Utahime's quick to tell you. "It's the only way. Those bastards would've never let you go otherwise." 

You shouldn't be so quick to listen to her, considering she hates them both. Still, she was more than happy to offer you her home while you picked yourself back up, and started looking for an apartment. You'll humor her for the time being. 

"She's right," Shoko pipes up. Her dark circles are even more prominent tonight. You guiltily think it has more to do with you than with her patients, but she and Utahime have insisted that you stay with them. 

"It was for my sake, more than theirs." You say honestly, tucking yourself into the couch. "They...don't care about me. At least, not like they do each other." 

Utahime rolls her eyes. "You are blind." She says. "Those two were obsessed with you. I'm just glad you got out while you could." 

You laugh, but it beats crying all over again. Utahime doesn't find what she said as funny. She chides you again, something about being oblivious before she settles down to watch the movie she put on. Shoko falls asleep right at the intermission. Her head falls against your shoulder. Utahime leans against you too. And it's nice to have friends to fill the void they left. 

~

Satoru appears first. 

You woke up later than you would have liked. Your eyes are itchy and red from crying all night. Utahime was more than happy to give you her guestroom, but you know you can't take advantage of her kindness for too long. Tomorrow, you'll start apartment hunting. 

Today, you'd sit on the couch and eat ice cream. 

When you go downstairs, you hear a hushed whisper. Utahime's by the door, using her body to keep someone out. She looks angry. 

"-No one's here but me. Now get the fuck off my property." She seethes. 

You recognize his voice. You aren't ready. "Have you heard anything? Anything at all?" 

"No." Utahime gripes. "So go, Gojo-" 

He catches your eyes. Your heart gets stuck in your throat. 

He's taller than her. It takes little to no effort to barrel through her body, easily shoving her aside to get to you. You flinch, his touch burns when he grabs you, pulling you into his arms. 

"Oh, baby." He sighs into your hair. "There you are. Missed you." 

It's too soon. You aren't ready. You can still feel the emotions bubble up from that night, when you collapsed in Utahime's arms, sobbing your heart out. This wasn't fair. They never made it fair. 

You cast a glance at Utahime. She was scowling, close to boiling right over the edge. It gives you enough strength to try to push Gojo off, but he only lets go, when he wants to. 

"Okay." He smiles, reaching down to grab your hand. "C'mon. Let's go home. You had us both so worried for a sec, but if we explain everything to Suguru it'll be okay." 

You find your voice then. As well as your strength. His grip on your hand isn't all that tight. It slips away when you gently shake him off. Satoru stops, confused. 

"Satoru..." You start. "Didn't you get my text?" 

He rolls his shoulders, agitated. "Yeah, but-but it doesn't matter." 

There it was. His lovable personality. Casual careless, nonchalance. For once, you aren't annoyed by it. Maybe your grief made you numb to it. 

"I did mean it," you say as plainly as you can, "every word." 

He freezes. You smile at Utahime. 

"Could you give us some time?" You ask. 

She frowns, but she's never been able to say no to you. 

"Ten minutes." She finally says, before she's marching back to the kitchen. You still hear her muttering while leading Satoru back to your room. 

"I'm sorry." He says when the door shuts behind him. 

"For what?" 

He runs a hand through his hair, taking off those glasses he loves so much. You can't look him in the eyes for too long. It brings up too many memories. 

"I fucked up, right?" He says, he sounds desperate. You've never heard him sound like this before. "I'm sorry. I dunno what I did, but I'm sorry." 

You shrug, picking at the lint of your sleeves. "You didn't do anything. I just...it felt like a good point to just-" 

"-Leave us?" He cuts in. "Come home, baby. I'm so sorry, just come home and we'll figure this out." You look away because you can feel the tears burn up. 

"You didn't do anything." You insist, but your voice is weaker. 

"Was it Suguru? Did he do some bullshit?" Satoru interrogates. "What'd he do? I'll kick his ass, I promise." You hide your smile underneath your sleeves. 

"He didn't do anything either," you assure, "neither of you did." 

He's getting more and more desperate. "Then why did you leave us? What's wrong with us? Why can't we go home and talk this out? Please come back, baby; home doesn't feel like home without you." 

Isn't this what you wanted? A confession. Evidence that they wanted you just as much as they wanted each other. Satoru certainly did. Suguru did, too, considering how hurt Satoru implied him to be. A week ago, you might have been over the moon, too wallowed in self-pity to do anything but agree, run back into their arms, and willingly sink back into 2nd place all over again. 

But the thought of going back to their home makes you feel sick. 

"I can't." You decide. "I just can't. It's over, Satoru." 

I'm sorry. You keep that last line to yourself because you're too scared to crack in front of him. Shatter. Splinter. 

Satoru doesn't share the same sentiment. You hear movement, and when you look up, he's crying. 

A part of you wants to hug him, but you hold yourself back because he isn't yours anymore, and maybe he never was. Still, it hurts seeing him like this. The piece of you that still wanted him is ready to forgive and forget. Your vindictiveness keeps it at bay. 

"That's not fucking fair." He's saying through his tears, even when he's crying, he's beautiful, "You-you can't just ditch us like this. You don't get it; we can't live without you. It's killing us; you're killing us, baby." He staggers forward, in a way that makes you afraid he might fall. In the end, he just collapses on the bed. Eventually, you take a seat next to him. 

He's looking around, you catch him eyeing the pile of clothes in the laundry basket. The hair ties on top of the drawer. The plushies on the bed. You think it might finally be starting to sink that that you're truly gone. 

"Suguru can't sleep these days, y'know that?" He starts, a sardonic laugh in his throat. "He pretends to, but he can't. He stays up all night just wishing you'd come home. The guy is miserable without you, and you can't even gimme a fucking answer." 

His voice cuts you just the way it's supposed to. You wince, feeling his words slice into his skin, finding their way into your heart. You look at his shoes for a moment. He didn't bother to remove them. Maybe that's another reason why Utahime was so pissed. 

"I was starting to feel like an afterthought with you two." You speak. "I mean, it makes sense, you two were together, first. I thought the barrier would just take time to go away....but then it didn't." 

How many times has Suguru taken Satoru's hand over yours? How many times has Satoru forgotten your drink but not Suguru's? How many inside jokes you didn't understand? You always felt petty for being jealous over the tiniest things, but those tiny things kept getting bigger and bigger until it felt like they'd been purposely building that barrier themselves.

You were sick of feeling like the third wheel in your relationship. 

"Baby..." Satoru's voice is tinged in guilt and you can't look at him because you can feel the tears start to well up. "I-I didn't realize." He grabs your hand. 

"Come home." He pleads. "We'll fix it, I promise. We'll be better. We'll do better." 

You shake your head, slipping away from his grip. 

"It's too late." Your voice is shaky. Please let him not notice. Please, please, please for once can his oblivious about everything but his one and only work in your favor? "You can't fix anything, Satoru. Not now." 

"You haven't even given us a chance to-" 

"You should go." You stand up. Satoru follows you out the door. Utahime's already outside. She catches your eyes and nods. 

"Gojo." She speaks, tone clipped. "Get the fuck out of my house." 

He stills, frozen like the prettiest painting in the world. His eyes turn to ice as he stares at her. Utahime doesn't budge. If anything, she advances, pulling you close, acting like a human barrier between you and your ex-boyfriend. You take it immediately, nestling into her side, taking refuge from his icy stare. 

There's silence. You only relax when you hear his footsteps fade and the door slams ricochets into the apartment. And that's when you break down into Utahime's arms completely, letting her coo you into comfort. 

"Maybe I am being overdramatic," you say when Shoko comes back later that day. Utahime was enraged since Satoru left, pacing around the apartment. It's only after both you and Shoko coaxed her back into the couch that she calms down enough to take a seat next to you. 

"Maybe this whole thing is ridiculous. I-I should just go back and-"

"No." Shoko is immediately saying voice firm. "Absolutely Not." 

You can smell the hint of smoke when she came back from the hospital. You try not to assume it's because of you. 

"No way in hell are we letting you go back there after what he did." Utahime gripes. 

"He didn't do anything." You argue. "I swear, I-I was just...being pathetic." 

Warm hands lift your head up. You struggle, still shuddering from your sobs as Utahime forces you to look at her. 

Her eyes are brown. Not as glittery as Satoru's, who's eyes shine like the burning sun itself. Not like Suguru, with his celestial purple. No, hers are just brown. 

You didn't realize how beautiful brown eyes could be. Not just the color of home; the color of chocolate; the color of brownies. The way the light cast down at them made them deep and dark, like a night sky. If you looked closer, you could see tiny stars swimming around. 

"Listen. Are you listening?" When you nod, her voice softens. She tucks your hair behind your ear. 

"You deserve better." She insists. "You deserve better than them. So so much better. I know you can't see it right now, but there is better out there waiting for you." Her voice loses all momentum all at once. "Just...trust me, okay?" 

Her desperation to be heard makes you smile a bit. You nod. Her frown loosens, just the tiniest bit. She relaxes. 

"Thanks," you say after a beat. "I...I needed that. I'm glad I have goods friends." 

Utahime's hands drop from your face. She collapses into the couch cushions with a groan. Shoko laughs. 

"Told you." Shoko says, mirth and alcohol on her tongue. 

Utahime flips her off, and Shoko takes her place. She settles into your side. 

"They were assholes." She tells you. "Forget about them. And she's right, you deserve better." 

You were glad they were there for you, even when you weren't there for yourself. It felt nice that they cared. Vouched, Advocated for your comfort. They made better boyfriends than your old boyfriends ever did. Their support helped heal the Satoru and Suguru-sized holes left in your heart. Every day became a bit better. 

When Suguru eventually turned up, you were a bit more prepared. 

He's a bit nicer than Satoru was. He actually knocks, instead of relentlessly pounding on the door. He doesn't barrel through Shoko when he spots you cowering behind her. His face betrays nothing. He's still. A polite smile is stretched on his lips. Shoko isn't happy about letting him into her home, but when she glances at you, you nod. You needed to do this. You needed closure. 

And so did Suguru. 

You don't speak to him until you're shut in your room. Geto cuts the silence first. 

"How have you been?" He asks nicely. 

"Good." You respond. "You?" 

"Good." 

Conversation stilts. You don't know what to say. Luckily, your ex is never the man who stays silent for long. 

"How's living with Shoko and Utahime been?" He asks, "I'm surprised you've put up with them for this long. They were pretty scary in high school." 

"I bet you two were scarier." You counter. 

He smiles. It's soft, looks good on him. You find yourself smiling back. When you take a seat on the the of the bed, he doesn't follow. You don't know whether to feel glad or not. 

"Yeah, I'm not the proudest of those times." He admits with a sheepish laugh. 

It dies down, and you know the artificial barrier between you two has broken. You shift, waiting for the inevitable. 

"Satoru told me what happened." He sighs. "I'm sorry, Angel. We-I didn't know how you felt. Everything was so perfect, I just thought you felt the same." 

"It's fine." You assure, and this time, your throat doesn't clog up, and your eyes don't feel itchy. "Really. It's-it's fine." 

"It's not." Suguru shakes his head. "You'd be in bed with us if it were." 

That comment pricks something deep within your skin. You swallow, turning away from his piercing purple eyes. They were much like Satoru's. Breathtaking, you could stare at them for hours. You used to. 

But now, you don't have that desire anymore. 

And maybe now that you aren't so attached, maybe you could try being a little more honest. 

"I was jealous." You finally admit. "I couldn't help it. I-I always felt like I was fighting within my relationship. You two were so much closer to each other than I was. Than I ever could be, honestly." 

Suguru frowns, troubled. 

"That's not true." He insists, soft, but something's burning underneath his tone. "Satoru and I have history, but that doesn't mean-" 

"I was runner-up." You cut him off. "For both of you. Looking back, I'm not really upset. It was always impossible for anything to come between the two of you. This-" You gesture between you and him "-was always inevitable." 

"It's my fault." You smile at him, hoping it comes across as sincere as you feel. "I couldn't stand being second place." 

He moves then, kneeling in front of you. Eyes the widest you've ever seen them. He catches your hands in his. You let him. A parting gift. 

"Angel." He starts. "We never once thought of you as that." 

You shrug. "It doesn't matter." You reply. "It's how I always felt. You can't really change the way I feel about things, Suguru." 

You think he's realizing that he's beginning to lose you. His grip gets tighter as if he can physically keep you with him at the very least. He shifts until he's right at your knees, looking up at you desperately. 

"Come back." He insists, abandoning his persuasions. "Just...come back. At least for a little while? We can try again, can't we? Just give us a second chance?" 

It's strange, they don't look too similar, but you can see the similarities. Wow, they're just perfect for each other, aren't they? Yin and Yang. Two halves; one whole. 

You were always a leftover. You just had to learn that the hard way, through days of heartbreak, crying, and sobbing your heart out. It took you awhile to understand that the affection they had for each other is different from the affection they had for you. 

You shake your head. His hands nearly crush yours. 

"I love you." 

It takes you a while to figure out what he said. When it does sink in, your world tilts. Your heart stops at his abrupt declaration and you must stare at him because why? At first, you think he's just desperate: lovebombing. And then you look into his eyes, his sincerity. No, he means it. It makes you feel worse. 

"Satoru does, too, but you know him-he'd rather die than admit something like that." Suguru gives a bitter laugh, one you find familiar even after all this time. "I've always wanted to tell you but thought it was too soon. I thought we had all the time in the world." His voice tapers so he doesn't have to say the obvious but clearly you three didn't. 

You want to reach over, tuck a stray lock behind his ear but you stop yourself because he isn't yours anymore. You gave it all away when you ran. Instead, you curl your hands around his in silent understanding. 

You don't know how you didn't realize it before, but Suguru is less put together than usual. His hair is typically well-groomed and shiny, but now you see split ends. His eyes are clear and bright, but today...they aren't. A dull purple. Hazy violet. 

He's miserable. 

You did this. This was all you. 

"Satoru misses you," he says, "always had. Barely smiles anymore. I don't think I can blame him." 

They loved you. They love you. This was all what you wanted. Just a bit of recognition. There's a tiny part of you that's still itching to jump back in Suguru's arms, kiss him until you're out of breath 'just kidding! it was a prank! let's go home!' and then you two would leave hand-in-hand back to Satoru. 

Going back to them would make them happy, but not you.

But Shoko was right. You deserved better. 

 "It'll get better." You assure. "You'll heal." 

Day by day, the cracks in your heart start to seal. Bit by bit. It may never heal over completely, but you know you'll be okay one day. And they'll be alright too. Who knows, maybe in a couple years, you'll all laugh at this. 

Suguru shakes his head and stands up. His eyes are just the bit glassy, but he's blinking them away before anything gives. It's just like him, honestly, so you're not too upset. 

"You don't get it." He's smiling, not quite in humor. "I don't think you'll ever do but..." He trails off, mid-thought. 

"But what?" You press. 

Then he sighs and closes his eyes. When he looks at you again, his signature pleasantly cold smile is on his face. 

"I did all I could, I think." He turns around, abrupt. "I'll see myself out." 

You're caught off-guard by his sudden departure, but by the time you're following him, Shoko's already leading him out the front door, locking it with exasperation. 

"Is that it?" She asks. "They won't be barging in anytime soon, right?" 

You stare out the window, watching as Suguru gets in his car. Something bubbled in your stomach. 

~

It was one of those nights. Shoko had come back early. Utahime was back from the school. You had planned a cute little evening for the girls and a relaxing night in. You had everything: wine, freshly-prepared dinner, a cheesy horror movie, and an announcement you're sure they were more than happy to hear.

You had just settled down the blanket when you hear Shoko come through the door. You take off her coat before she can even touch it, excitedly flitting around her. 

"What's gotten you in such a good mood?" Shoko asks, her dark circles even more profound than before. You don't have to feel guilty about those for long. 

"You'll see!" You chirp back. 

Utahime strolls out of the bathroom, fresh from the shower. Her hair is still wet. You'll ask if you can blow dry it later. 

"That's what you've been saying for nearly an hour now." Utahime groans. "Just tell us already. Or at least, me."

"Patience." You chastise. "But, it's a good surprise, I promise." 

She's not satisfied, but she sits down anyway. They eat dinner, complimenting your skills all the while. You preen at their praise. It's a stark contrast between Suguru and Satoru, how cold they'd often been whenever you did something nice for them: tilted smiles, less-than-receptive words of 'oh baby you didn't have to'. 

As you lived with both couples, you can see the similarities. Utahime's temper is close to Satoru's, but that's where the similarities stop. She's more serious and less likely to blow off your feelings with a playful huff. Shoko and Suguru share the same laid-back personality, but Shoko is always there to listen to you instead of cutting you off with condescending sympathy. 

Wow, maybe Satoru and Suguru were a little more shitty than you initially thought. 

Eventually, the night draws to a close. They're drunk, full, and smiling. Perfect. You clear your throat just when Shoko refills her fourth glass. 

"Again, I'd really like to thank you for letting me stay." You start. "It meant so much to me to have two amazing people to support me like this. So, thank you." 

Utahime smiles. "Don't thank us," she says, "again, you can stay for as long as you want-forever, honestly!" 

You nod. "Well, I don't think I have to do that anymore." 

Shoko freezes mid-sip. 

"What?" She asks. 

"I talked to my parents." You tell them, oblivious to their stone faces. "And I'm going to move back in with them, just until I get back on my feet. Isn't that great? Now, you two won't have to-" 

You stop when you finally notice how cold they look. Utahime looks close to tears. 

"What's wrong?" You ask. 

"You're leaving?" Utahime asks, her voice nearly cracks. "Why?" 

That...wasn't what you were expecting. Shouldn't they be glad the third wheel is finally out of their house? Why does Utahime look so heartbroken? Why is Shoko so quiet? What was going on?

"Isn't-isn't this what you wanted?" You fumble with your words. "Now, you don't have to share the house with me anymore. It'll be just the two of you again." 

They exchange glances, and it reminds you of those secret conversations Suguru and Satoru used to have. Except this time, you can read their faces. 

"What if...we don't want it to be just the two of us anymore?" Shoko starts, hesitant, reproachful like she's approaching a scared wild animal. 

Your eyebrows scrunch. "I don't understand." 

At that, Utahime drops her head in her hands. "Oh, c'mon! We've been doing this for weeks! You can't be that oblivious-" 

And then, she stops herself. Looks at you. You stare right back, and the three of you have the exact same realization at the exact same time. 

"Oh." You breathe. 

"Oh." Utahime whispers. 

"We're all idiots." Shoko says behind her glass. 

"Wait wait. Hold on." You backtrack. "You-you two want...with me?" 

"Yes!" Utahime exclaims. "Yes! God, now everything makes sense. I thought you were just trying to let us down gently, but this whole time you just weren't even paying attention!" 

"No." You argue, face hot. "You two were just really subtle." 

"We all sleep in the same room, these days." Shoko lists. "'Hime sat on your lap with nothing on but a bra and panties." 

"I thought we were just doing friend things!" 

"What kinds of friends sit on your lap, half-naked?" Utahime asks, mortified. 

"I-I-" You give up. 

All this time. You were mourning over something you lost months ago, even when there was something blooming right under your nose. God, you're an idiot. 

Hands. They clasp your own. You look up into Utahime's pretty brown eyes. 

"We want you to stay." She whispers. "We want you." You take a glance at Shoko. 

"Do you want us?" 

You take a deep breath. 

You nod. 

She's smiling, and then Utahime's kissing you. Soft, so soft, nothing like the possessive kisses Satoru gives you. It's innocent and adoring and you find yourself melting into her completely. 

Utahime disappears and before you can mourn her warmth, Shoko's lips join yours. You can smell the alcohol, the slightest sting of cigarettes. You don't mind it. Her kisses are nothing like Suguru's, all powerful and domineering. She takes what you give her, asking ever so nicely for more. 

You break away, panting. 

"You good?" She asks. 

You nod. 

"Good." Shoko hums. "Cuz we're gonna fuck you now." 

"What?" 

Shoko pushes you down on the couch. You land with an oomph before Utahime's descends on you with a flurry of kisses. 

"Waited so long to do this, baby." She's sighing into your lips, fiddling with your shirt so she can pull it off. "Weeks and weeks." 

She pulls down one of your bra cups, massaging at your tits. You hadn't had action in so long, so you eagerly encouraged her movements, kissing her back with just as much fervor. Shoko takes her place next to her girlfriend, pawing at your other tit. 

"Look." Shoko purrs. "One for each of us." Her soft mouth sucks on your nipple, swirling it around her mouth. Your head leans back with a pleasant sigh. 

"Feel good?" Utahime asks. "She's good with her tongue, isn't she?" 

"Yes," you nod, and Utahime gives out a delighted giggle, peppering your face with kisses. You gasp when you feel her hand shift through your shorts, palming at your dripping pussy. 

"Poor thing." Utahime's cooing, and there's a brief hint of mockery in her tone. You've never heard that before. It turns you on even more. "They never gave you attention back there did they?" She circles your clit. "They were too busy sucking each other's dicks to pay attention to such a pretty pussy." 

Shoko pops off your tits, shifting down. She kisses her way to your stomach. You blearily watch as she adjusts herself until she's right at your shorts. Utahime follows her lead, tugging off your shorts. Your panties go next. 

And then you're staring down at them with trepid anticipation. 

"I meant what I said." Shoko says softly. "You deserve better. You deserve someone who cares for you." 

"You deserve us." With that, She and Utahime latch onto your pussy. 

They're everywhere. You have to stop yourself from cumming right then and there, arching your back as one of them sucks on your clit while the other licks into your hole. She manages to stick her tongue inside of you, and it's enough to shoot sparks through your eyes. 

"So tight." Utahime's hissing into your cunt. "Sho, after this, you wanna try to fuck this pussy with your strap?" 

There's a soft laugh, and Shoko pulls away from your clit to answer, much to your disappointment. You whine, thrusting your hips in the air. She stills you with a hush. 

"I don't think we're ready just yet." She hums. "Yet." 

When you glance down, they both are making out with your clit. It's debaucherous. Their soft lips are connected, your tiny bud locked in the middle as their spit trickles down into your pussy. Utahime groans and when you look further down, you realize she's touching herself. 

You don't know which part of this makes you cum, but you cum. It's the hardest you've ever orgasmed. There's so much stimulation that your hips buck up, trying to chase the sparks of pleasure. They let you, licking you through your orgasm. 

When you come down, your thighs fall apart, splayed against the soft cushions. Utahime still isn't finished, licking at your clit. You shudder at the overstimulation, whining until Shoko is pulling her off of you by her hair. 

"Good, baby?" She asks, crawling back up to you. You kiss her as an answer. She melts in delight. 

You break the kiss, glancing over at Utahime. 

Taking the silent request, she kisses you again. You can taste yourself on her lips. You don't mind it. For some reason, it's sweeter on Utahime's tongue. 

When she breaks away, she stares at you, face soft. "You're staying, right?" She asks you. "You'll stay with us? Because after this, I don't think we could ever let you go." 

You give a shy nod, and Utahime beams. 

"Then, you're ours now," Shoko says, settling into your side. "And we're yours. Always." 

"Always." You breathe, content, happy. You could almost go to sleep. 

Shoko slaps your thigh. 

"Not yet." She warns before propping you up. "First, I want you to sit on my face." 

Hours later, you wake up delightfully sore in bed. The two girls are curled up next to you. When you move, you can still feel the bruises Utahime left. You never knew she liked to bite so much. 

You can't even begin to remember what happened, but you don't regret any of it. Hours and hours had passed as they fucked you and fucked each other, and you fucked them. 

Shoko shifts beside you. She was always a light sleeper. 

"Awake?" She asks. 

"Yeah." You softly say back. 

She hums, shifting a little more to face you. Utahime's behind you, arms protectively curled around your waist. At your voice, her eyes twitch. 

"Shut up." She grumbles, but her arms cinch around your waist. 

Shoko stretches as she rises up. You miss her body warmth but you don't mind the view she gives as she saunters over to the dresser, pulling on some clothes. 

"I'm gonna get food." 

Utahime mumbles out her order. You say nothing because you don't want to come in between them, and then Shoko looks at you. 

"What do you want?" She prompts. 

You blink, and when you answer, Shoko smiles, and then she's out the door. 

The interaction makes your heart warm. 

Still, it can't last. 

When you go to get up, Utahime protests, grabbing your wrist. 

"And where are you going?" She prods. 

You fumble. "Back to my room?" 

"What? Why?" Utahime demands with a frown. "What's the point, you're already with us, now." 

"Oh." You blink, but you give in and slink back into bed. "Is...this really okay?" 

"For God's sake, " she hisses, but you don't count it against her because Utahime has always been a little grumpy after waking up. "Yes. We're obsessed with you. How are you so blind?" 

"We want you, and we're not like them." Her voice drops in disdain. "We'll treat you better. You're ours now. You're mine." 

"Yours." You repeat, something warm fluttering in your belly. 

"You can't leave, we'd go crazy, okay?" She seriously tells you. "If someone else takes you away, I'd lose it. And Shoko is okay with murder." 

You laugh. 

"That's not a joke." She warns. 

"I know." And you kiss her again. 

It's like that for a couple weeks. You live in peaceful domestic bliss with two wonderful girlfriends. Now that you're in an actual loving relationship, you can't tell why you ever contemplated ever going back to Satoru and Suguru. Shoko actually talked to you about your feelings. Utahime cared about your input. You weren't treated like an afterthought, second place. 

They were with each other longer than they had been with you, but they never made you feel like you had to fight for your relationship. Speaking off Satoru and Suguru, they never once contacted you after their first two attempts. They'd clearly given up. 

Everything was just perfect. 

And then, it just wasn't. 

You were in bed with them. Fifteen minutes ago, Utahime shuffled off to go to the bathroom. She still wasn't back. Half asleep, Shoko grumbled. 

"She's probably in there fighting a cockroach." She complains, but she rises anyway. "Sleep, I'll be back." She kisses you on the cheek, and then she's gone. 

Their body warmth fades, but they stay because they're tired. These days, you can't really sleep without them, so you wait for the girls to return. Two minutes pass. Then, five. Then, ten. By then, the bed is cold. 

You open your eyes, sitting up. It's so quiet. Are they okay? 

You pull off the comforter, stepping onto the cold wooden floor. The apartment feels strangely...haunted somehow. The air felt heavier now, thick with an invisible tension, like the house itself was holding its breath. It must be because you feel alone, you're sure of it. 

The bedroom leads to a dark hallway. As you make your way down, you can hear something. Voices? Murmuring. The relief almost makes you laugh. Seriously, what were you even afraid about? 

The living room is horrific. 

They look dead. You can't tell if they're breathing or not. Shoko's eyes are closed. Utahime's limp body is sprawled across the floor. There's blood on the wooden panels. 

Suguru doesn't even blink. 

"You're awake." He says it so casually, like waking up to your ex-boyfriends mauling your girlfriends is normal. 

"What..." Your voice fails, you weakly try again. "What did you two do?" 

Satoru answers, smiling with glinty teeth. 

"Isn't it obvious? We're getting rid of the competition." 

You don't understand, your brain hasn't caught up yet, you still think you can talk to these psychos. 

"It's their fault." Satoru's still smiling, but there's nothing happy about his tone. He's carrying a knife. There's blood on it. "It's all their fault. They manipulated you into breaking up with us, baby. That's how these useless sluts got you into their arms." He spits on Utahime's hair. You cover your face with your hands. 

"But, it's not like you aren't at fault, Baby." He points the knife at you. "You left us for them. I'm not letting you off the hook for that." 

You don't know what he's saying. His movements scare you, his eyes, the knife. When you glance at Suguru, you don't know what you're expecting. 

But you know you aren't expecting...that. 

His purple eyes are icy cold. Utterly devoid of any emotion. You don't think you're staring at a person, anymore. 

"You lied," Suguru says, "You lied about us not giving you enough attention. You just wanted to leave us. For them." 

You step back. They step forward. 

Those bastards would've never let you go otherwise. Utahime warned you. Looking at her limp body, you wondered if she thought they'd ever go this far. 

"I didn't." You weakly insist. "I-I wasn't lying about anything! It-it wasn't like I wanted to leave-" 

"Stop lying," Gojo insists. "Stop fucking lying already." 

He smiles again. 

"It's okay, baby. I know you'll come back with us. Right after we're done dealing with these two whores." 

"You'll belong to us." Suguru promises and he steps on Shoko's hands. "Just like always."

They were both crazy. Nothing could get through to them. Now, you would sit there and watch them maul the only things in your life that made you feel complete. 

The worst part is that everything was your fault. 

Shoko's pinky twitches. You can see Utahime take shallow breathes.

And you speak. 

"I'm sorry." 

Your weak voice makes them stop in their tracks. Satoru glances at you, Suguru does too. You can't convince them. The only thing you can do is play into their delusions. 

"You're right." You say, the tears finally feeling useful. "I just wanted to leave. I-I was just bored. I wanted something new." Suguru's lips curl and you quickly move on. "But-but the more I stayed with them, the more I realized...how much I missed you two." 

Satoru halts. You caught him. 

"I did." You stress, carefully making your way to him on feet that were close to dropping at any minute. "Every day, I thought about you two." You reach out, touching his face with shaky fingers. "I really really wanted to come back, but I was afra-afraid you wouldn't...want me back."

Satoru reaches up to touch your hand. His fingers are cold. You resist the urge to shudder. 

"You missed us?" He wonders. 

The lie feels like sand. 

"More than anything." 

His kiss is violent. He crushes you with his grip, touching and biting and everything you hate. You squeeze your eyes shut, letting him suck your soul dry. 

"Don't kill them." You whisper when he finally pulls away. "Please don't kill them. Everything was my fault." 

Satoru's face is pensive. His gaze drifts off to Suguru's. Those silent conversations you hated so much. 

Then, Satoru gives a delighted sigh. 

"You're lucky. I love you so much." He kisses your nose, before pushing you in Suguru's arms. 

"I'll clean up here. Suguru, go back to the truck." He demands. 

You don't fight, letting Suguru drag you away. Shoko and Utahime live in apartments, but you're afraid if you scream, Satoru might change his mind and gut them anyway. Before Suguru leads you off, you catch Gojo scoffing before he kicks at Utahime's face. You gasp and pray that when Shoko wakes up, she'll be coherent enough to call for an ambulance. 

I'm sorry, you tell them. I'm so so sorry. 

Suguru pushes you into the backseat of their vehicle. You obediently take a seat. 

"You shouldn't have left." He tells you. "You should've stayed." 

His face is cold, but his tone betrays the tiniest tremor. If you weren't so scared, you'd laugh. The irony is that he's the one who feels wronged here. 

"I'm sorry," you say anyway. 

He hums, not quite satisfied with your answer. 

"You aren't." He responds, and you hate how well he knows your tells. 

And then, he grins. 

"But you will be."

Hands reach out, gripping your neck. You flail immediately as Suguru cuts of your oxygen. You can't breathe. You can't fucking breathe. No matter how tightly you squeeze onto his wrist, digging your nails into his hands, clawing at his face. He keeps you still, keeping you there as you grow weaker. Your vision gets blurry. Your attempts get sluggish. There's a kiss on your forehead, and you black out completely. 

~

You wake up in a room you've never seen before. And your neck is sore. 

The pain drifts in as soon as consciousness does. You feel like you have a hangover, your head throbs, your eyes struggle to remain open. You can't go back to sleep either, not when it hurts so much. 

The panic doesn't settle in until you catch the cuffs on either one of your legs, keeping you attached to the bedpost. Silver chains, with enough lead to let you move around a bit. The cuffs are padded so you don't rub yourself raw. You don't care about the thoughtfulness. 

They're in the room with you, watching with silent eyes. Nausea builds up in your stomach, and you wonder how long they'd stayed there, just watching you. 

You miss Shoko. You miss Utahime. You missed people who actually loved you. 

Not these two. Monsters that lied and pretended, but deep down, they were just too selfish to share. 

"You were out for a while." Suguru comments. 

"I told you to use the syringe," Satoru remarks, but he doesn't sound too upset. At his voice, Suguru laughs. 

You shift in your spot. Suguru takes that as an invitation. He sits at the edge of the bed, watching you with satisfied eyes. You must look pathetic: shivering, in tears. He reaches up, catching your tears with his finger.

"So cute." And then he frowns. "You know why we're doing this, yes? You were bad. You need to be punished."

"I'm sorry." It's all you can say. You feel like a broken record, doomed to repetition over and over again.

"You aren't. You should stop lying." Suguru says sweetly. "But I'm sure, a couple hours in your new home will help you think about how much you hurt us."

You wanted to scream, but you can't cuz your throat still hurts from Suguru's hands, and you know he's not above putting his hands on you this time. Maybe he never was, you just never saw this side of him until you made him snap.

"You're leaving?" You stumble, moving as they back away but the chains only take you so far. There are no windows, and when Suguru shuts the light off, the only thing that's keeping you from the dark entirely is the light emitting out the hallway.

"Wait." You beg. "Please. Wait, don't-don't leave me here. I'm sorry. This is scary. I'm scared."

Satoru hesitates at your broken voice. Like a shark smelling blood, you pounce.

"Satoru, please."

"If you keep coddling, then the lesson will never be learned." Suguru warns.

Satoru stares at you. He's not wearing his sunglasses. You can see him for what he is now.

"I love you." He says it so sincerely, you almost believe it. "This is for your own good."

The door shuts, and everything goes dark.

[ditzydoe444]

MDNI 18+

older farmer! simon riley fucking your mouth on his porch

—ㅤ꒰ྀིㅤ simon riley x reader ಿৎ

▐ oral (m) receiving, facial - more taboo simon riley content @laceyfaeryy

he was not in a good mood, after the many years simon had spent in the military he thought he could control his anger, but no. you pranced out to the bar after an argument with him, wearing the tiniest skirt that barely covered your cheeks as you ignored his calls and texts. now he was outside on the porch watching and waiting for you to show up, a half empty bottle of beer in his hands.

the moment he heard the sound of the gravel crunching, with the shine of the headlights he slammed his bottle on the outdoor table. it was one thing to storm off during a fight, it’s another to completely ignore him, walking past him as if he was invisible. “where do you think you’re goin’ sweetheart?” his low voice taunting as he wrapped his arm around your waist. you were a stubborn little thing as you tried fk shake him off, though that did nothing to a man his size. “going to bed” you grumbled as you tried to tug your way out, simon’s grip tightening instinctively. “yeah nah, that ain’t happening,” he grunted as he turned you to face him, his rugged features looking even more handsome under the moonlight. “you have a problem with me, you talk about it,” his voice stern as he leaned closer, his lips gently brushing against your ear as his musky smell filled your nostrils. “if you’re gonna use that mouth for complain’ i have some better ideas.”

your protests did little to nothing, simon knew what turned you on, the way your eyes turned hazy and dilated as he told you everything he was gonna do to that dirty mouth of yours. his free hand snaked up your body, before gently resting on your throat, gently squeezing it. “had enough of your bratty attitude, don’t make me fuck the filth out of your mouth yeah?” though that was absolutely what he was going to do. he hand you on your knees as he rubbed his thumb over your plush lips, “gotta make you worthy to suck my cock yeah?” he cooed as he gently shoved two fingers in teasingly, your lips wrapping around them instinctively as you hummed contently. simon let out a low chuckle, “happy now yeah? just gotta have something shoved in that little mouth of yours?”

a small smirk formed on his lips when he pulled his fingers out, glistening with your saliva as you let out a pathetic whine in protest. “don’t worry sweetheart, ‘ve got something for that oral fixation of yours yeah?” his hands hastily pulling his cock out of his briefs, your manicured hands tugging his boxers completely freeing his cock. “come on sweetheart, give it a kiss yeah?” one of his hand on the back of your head, tugging your hair gently prompting you to give a small kiss on his sensitive tip that’s leaking with his pre cum. the weight of his cock felt heavy in his hands as blood rushed down, his cock hardening even more as you left wet sloppy kisses around his tip.

without a warning he shoved his cock in your mouth, making you gag and sputter all over it as you struggled to accomodate to his sheer size, your mouth stretched out as your eyes watered each time his tip hits the back of your throat. “gotta watch that attitude of yours alright? can’t have ya bein’ all bratty on me.” he grunted as he fisted your hair. the sensation was too much, the feeling of rough wood in your knees, simon pulling your hair whilst your jaw felt like it was going to lock any second. “fuck,” simon hissed as you wrapped one hand around the base of his cock, fisting it. drool dribbled down your chin, your mascara running down your cheeks as you stared at simon with half-lidded eyes. “let me come on that pretty face sweetheart,” his voice low as he pulled his cock out of your mouth, fisting it. you tilted your head up wards, your mouth open with your eyes shut. “n-ngh,” simon grunted as he came, his come spurting all over your face, gluing your lashes together before making a mess, some in your cheeks and some inside your mouth.

“fuck sweetheart, you look beautiful.” his breaths heavy as his chest heaves, his large calloused hand cupping your cheek as he smeared the cum across your face. “need a big smile,” his tone slightly teasing and stern, as he gently tapped your cheek. obediently you smiled, a big cheesy grin as you stared at him with your eyes sparklingly. “good girl luvie,” he cooed knowing how much you loved that term of endearment.

[madamechrissy]

Took you Like a Shot

Pairings- Rich Frat/fuckboi Toru x Preppy Sorority reader

Summary- One VERY drunk encounter between your greatest rival ever - on your last day of college- leads to you being knocked up. Satoru Gojo, a fuckboy, fratboy, rich little jerk, has been a rival of yours since you all met in College, every damn grade you fought for he got with ease. He crashed every Sorority party you threw. The two of you are so infamous in your rivalry, your friend groups were rivals, and for some reason, life is playing some damn joke on you both. Now... you have to tell him the news - but how Satoru takes it surprises you. Can you both raise a baby together!? And do you even really know each other?

Contents/Warnings- gonna be flashbacks to the rivalry/that night, nerdjo but make him a fratboy, enemies to kind of begrudging partners, but then as the pregnancy progresses, they fall in love hehe (gojo is an idiot) MDNI - flashbacks of their past rivalry, Satoru being silly but sweet, reader getting insecure, both are emotional, mentions of pregnancy/body changes, explicit sex, oral (f recieiving) cervix kisses, squirting, mirror sex, talking you through it, LOTS of humor- WC- this chap- 8.4k - art in the banner by Yuana on X

Comments and reblogs so appreciated if you enjoyy <3 (extras here and here)

<<<Chapter Two - Masterlist - Playlist- Chapter Four>>>

Chapter Three

A month later- four months along

You really hope Satoru makes it in time, he’s texted you plenty and sent you many silly selfies - fuck the two of you had phone sex - you blush as you remember just what kind of picture was sent after that. He’s called every single night to speak to you, to the point the two of you are learning more and more about each other, yes he’s kind of an idiot, but he’s also kind of brilliant.

Conceited and cocky, yet slightly insecure about things and vulnerable, terrified of having a baby but excited, the duality of Satoru Gojo was never anything like what you knew him as for the past five years. You remember hating his attitude, his advances, remembering how ‘easy’ things were for him, but the more you all talk, the more that changes.

You’re not mad he went on his trip, everything would change for him, why not let him have fun, but you find yourself… lonely. You don’t know what that sex meant to him, but it was almost as if… maybe you could see that future? Maybe you could see something coming of it.

Are you way off?

You’ve seen the numerous pictures of Satoru and his friends all over every bit of instagram, girls in their bikinis surrounding the group, you never see Satoru not around someone, though he keeps the distance, his arm is usually around Suguru’s shoulders. He looks so happy, so carefree you muse, feeling the complete opposite of just how you feel - exhausted.

You’re already more than ‘poochy’ though many people still haven’t assumed you’re pregnant, flowy empire waisted dresses have curbed anyone assuming so, which is ideal considering you just started getting on camera. Last week was the start of your new segment, where you go over the current news, it’s for celebrities for now, but you hope one day to get to the heavy hitting things.

“And with that, I send it back to you.” You finish your segment with a smile at the camera, the director shouts - cut! - and everyone starts clearing up, getting ready for the next person on the floor.

You blink a bit, bright lights shooting in your face are still overwhelming, when the director comes up to you, smiling, his eyes roving just a little too much on your body. “You did great.”

“Oh thank you!”

“You look great, too.” The female director steps up, snidely scowling down at your body now, making you tense.

“But remember the camera adds ten pounds, maybe a salad for lunch instead of those hot cheetos?” You feel your cheeks heat up furiously, as the crew watches curiously at you.

You’ve gained five pounds this month and it’s all in your tummy and tits. “No, I think you look great, don’t worry.” He says again, but the snobby woman rolls her eyes at him.

“Just looking out for you. Maybe we could be… friends?” She suggests, making you blink in shock and embarrassment.

You want to tell them you’re pregnant but you’re too terrified- it’s too new, so not just yet, you’re so worried they’ll take this away after working so hard… you’d eventually have to tell them, when you can’t hide it anymore, but for now, you’ll pretend you’ve just eaten a lot of hot cheetos.

“No, that’s true I will remember the camera adding ten pounds. Thanks for looking out.” You manage, this was Hollywood and this was the norm, you expected just about this much anyway, ten extra pounds is a lot for the position.

God how big would you get!?

You’re frowning then, when you recall the conversation, and see it.

A stretch mark.

“Fuck… shit. Already!?” You’re panicking, how do you get one four months in!? You look like you have a food baby, surely, it’s not even that big yet and there it is, clear as fucking day.

You hear the doorbell ring then, sliding your shirt down to hide the evidence of it, how much cocoa butter did you need!? You basically bathe in the shit every fucking day- and now this already. You expected some later on perhaps, when you were bigger. Frustrated and upset, you open the door to see Satoru’s face, just a little sunburnt, and his eyes are bloodshot red even as he grins.

“Hey sweets. Miss me?”

Yes.

“Maybe.” You murmur, glaring just a bit while Satoru struggles to focus, head hammering then.

“Can I get some water, ibuprofen, some eggs-” He blinks you into focus now, seeing tears in your eyes, hitting him over the head like a freezing cold bucket of water suddenly. “Shit, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing… just…” You can’t take it then, you’re sobbing, as he fumbles, trying to pat your back, pulling you against him just a bit.

“Missed me that badly?” You take a shaky breath, swiping at your tears now.

“I’m getting…” You pull back, and in one month your tummy has rounded some, a gentle curve, your tits are swollen already, begging for his mouth. Satoru can’t take just how gorgeous you are then, exhaling, hands on your hips.

“Getting sexy?” He asks softly, and you shake your head.

“You’re fucked up, that’s why you think it.”

“What now?” He glares, sobering up with every moment you’re acting like such a brat. “What funhouse mirror are you checking? Are they being mean at work or some shit!?”

“They mentioned I should stop eating hot cheetos. But… they don’t know I’m pregnant so.” Satoru frowns then, brushing his hand across your hip now, thumb pressing little circles, making your breath catch with the intimacy.

“You didn’t tell them?”

“I’m too scared to lose the job…”

“But you can’t hide it forever.”

“I know.”

“Is that why you’re crying?” His surprisingly sharp gaze flickers when you shake your head. “Why are you?”

“I have a stretch mark already.” He frowns when you lift up your shirt, showing him it, a mark that glints under the lights. “I’m eating too many fucking hot cheetos, they’re right, ugh!”

He laughs then, thumb brushing the mark, seeing goosebumps raise as he does so, before getting on his knees, making you gasp. “This right here?” He asks softly, eyeing you under his snowy lashes, your hands come to rest on his shoulders, nodding a bit.

“Y-yes, already Satoru. And I’m meticulous about this stupid cocoa butter.” You’re exhaling as he kisses the mark, lips against your skin, your tummy flutters with desire, fuck you had missed him.

“It’s sexy.” His whisper sends shivers across your body, you almost whine out how good it feels.

“It’s so not.”

“I like it. Stop being mean to yourself, what will the baby think if they hear this all the time, hmm?” He presses another kiss on your tummy, touching your heart then, right above your belly button, as his hands warmly palm your hips. “If you’re mean to yourself the baby will get upset.”

“How does it know?” You’re sniffling now.

“Babies know their surroundings, you don’t want to stress them, hmm?”

“You… read up on it?” He smiles a bit, nodding, your earlier response of being so irritated at him is fading, you find yourself stroking his hair, as he rests his forehead on your tummy. “You’re right. You’re right.”

“I love to hear that, where was this all of college, hmm?”

“I bet you do.” You pull him up now, seeing him sway just a bit, sighing. You want to tell him he shouldn’t show up fucked up, but the sweetness of the moment speaks louder than his immaturity. “Let’s get you some food before we go.”

“I think I love you.”

After you’ve made Satoru an enormous omelette, which he devours with fervor in your little kitchen as you sip on a decaf- that’s depressing isn’t it? - something almost feels… natural about it. About the sunlight filtering through those blinds, lighting the two of you up, little dustmotes floating through the beams of light, flashing just so on his pretty face.

Satoru leans back, grinning and rubbing his tummy. “I’ll have a food baby, we could match you know.”

You snort, rolling your eyes and sipping the hot liquid. “I can’t see you matching this, I feel like a whale.”

“You’re not at all.” He frowns now, eyeing you slowly. “You look so good I’d like to put you on this table and eat you.”

You blink at his bold words, igniting something insane inside you, color dancing on your cheeks as your thighs shift, earning his smirk. “You’re so crazy.”

“You want it. Well, c’mere then.” He shoves his plate out of the way, tapping the table as you can’t help but giggle. “Think I’m kidding? Think I don’t want you spread for me?”

“Jesus Satoru…” You take a step now, then another, setting down the coffee on the counter. “Did you miss me so bad?”

Yes, he did.

He wants your taste to soak into him again.

He smiles though, hands on your hips when you finally stand right between his spread thighs, just inhaling you. “God you smell so sweet.”

“Mnh…” Just a kiss and a tug over your shorts has you weak, your fingers brushing through his silky locks, when your phone starts blaring the alarm. “Oh shit… the ultrasound.”

“Mmm, can we be late?” He raises a brow and you feel so sexy then, it’s like all your worries fade for just a moment.

“No, but…” You kiss him quickly, disentangling yourself now. “Thank you.”

“Don’t have to thank me for wanting to have two meals for breakfast. What do they call that, nerd, hmm?” Your lips twitch as he stands, so tall his hair is just a couple inches from your ceiling, you feel so small then, your heart thrumming in your chest as the two of you stand in your homey little kitchen.

You shouldn’t feel so much, think so much, he’s being sweet and supportive but… your heart and mind are racing places they should not. Thinking you’d love to just have him here, how funny a man who you used to ‘hate’ has become so precious in a month to you, even his phone calls and texts were more comforting than either of you are willing to admit.

“Second breakfast.” You answer, he chuckles just a bit, tilting your chin up then, sighing.

“You’re prettier.”

“No…”

“Why would I lie? I’m not nice am I?” His brow raises, and you bite your lower lip then. “Remember when I hung all your panties all over and everyone took pictures?”

“Oh jesus, yes. You were so mad I beat your ass at beer pong.” You shove at him now, glaring and looking far too fucking cute as he grins.

“You lost at the drink off. And you shouldn’t have had so many panties.”

Oh yeah.

You almost forgot.

Gojo was a little fratboy ASS.

******

Two years ago

You throw your arms up, cheering along with everyone as you land that last bouncy white pong ball right inside Satoru Gojo’s last red solo cup, essentially tearing down the ‘king of beer pong’. A man that had never lost, just lost to a girl who never played, and the horror on his face, his parted glossy lips and wide blue eyes, were so amusing you couldn’t stand it.

Good.

“I want a rematch!” He demands, in the middle of a toga party, everyone dressed in wrapped sheets with gold glitter on their skin, the loud music reverberating as you cross your arms, grinning. “Damn demon.”

“Demon? No.” You giggle though, demonically he swears, batting your pretty lashes up at him. “Just bested you and you’re salty.”

“Me!? No, beginner’s luck, fuck that.” You’re deviously laughing again, when Satoru smirks. “Fine, a drink off.”

“A drink off!?”

“Yep, the loser gets to embarrass the other, they have to deal with whatever the winner wants. Agree?” He raises a thin white brow, as you eye him, he’s slender sure but he’s six foot four, he clearly could handle more than you. “Whoever can not puke, and still walk a straight line, wins.”

“Bet, I will own your ass.” Your girls, especially Shoko and Utahime giggle, cheering you on, as Suguru and Sukuna smirk at each other, high fiving, and soon an entire party is damn near silent, watching you two.

“Feeling weak, sweets?” Satoru taunts, slamming back a shot then, and you’re already fucking tipsy, three in, but you damn sure won’t show it, even as the liquor warms your entire body.

“Hah, no, m’feeling great.” You down yours, a droplet falling across your chin then, he touches you with a thumb before he can stop himself, making you both pause, and whispers amongst the party goers. Shit even the music is softer, as everyone watches the two rivals of their college go at it.

Satoru Satoru Satoru.

There’s a quiet chant of his name, and he downs another, throwing his arms up like the annoying frat boy he is, chiseled muscles glinting under the strobing leds ahead, you try to ignore how it makes you feel. You try to pretend the losers you’ve fucked with could compete with how badly you truly want Satoru, but you’d die before you ever told him the truth.

And as Satoru sits back down, and your girls chant your name, he can’t stop but look at just how beautiful your skin looks glinting with glitter under these lights, how you look like a fucking goddess in your tied up sheet. So gorgeous for a moment he forgets just where he is, who he is, tired of acting like any girl that joins his bed tonight could touch your beauty.

Not that he’d tell you, he’d die before he did, looking at your petulant little scowl, your haughty raised brow, as you cross your arms and tap your foot, he hates that he notices your pedicure. He hate that he loves the pretty white glitter, that even your fucking feet in sandals turns him on, and he especially hates one thing, how unaffected you are.

You’re the only girl ever that was.

And the only girl he’d die to have.

Satoru spent all of last night jerking it to your latest instagram post, not that you’d ever know, so fucking sexy, smart, your attitude even just makes him hard in your presence. In a room full of writhing bodies, giggling girls and drunk ass men, all trying to party and forget that finals are looming, that the real world is just a couple years away, all he can see is you.

He watches you down another shot, as you just get even hotter, the more you challenge him, feisty little brat, taking on a huge, grown ass man and giggling like you’re big and bad. He talks shit, you talk it right back, until Suguru calls it. - “Time! Let’s see who can walk a straight line, huh?” 

Both groups chant your names, but you do stumble then, and Satoru catches you in his arms, grinning as you pout. “Ugh no way!”

“He won.” Sukuna announces, everyone starts cheering or booing depending on whose side they were on, and Satoru tries not to think how good you feel in his fucking arms, how he’d love you to just stay there.

“Not fair, sweets, I’m way taller.”

“Whatever I tried!” You shove at him, stumbling again, and he frowns, tilting your chin up and looking into now drunk, dilated eyes.

“Let’s… get you to bed… and some water?” He murmurs then, you blink in your drunken haze, biting your lower lip, trying not to let the words out that always loom to the surface, that you want him, that you enjoy him, enjoy all your dumb ass fights, all your rivalry.

He motivates you, pushes you.

He’s gorgeous, his arms feel too fucking good.

Your brain swirls, tummy lurching just a bit, as you realize you’re good and fucked up. “I can do it myself.”

“Will you ever just let someone help you?” You shake your head, Satoru rolls his eyes, following you when you trip on the stairs now, giggling, landing right in his arms once more. “Let me take you to bed, brat.”

“Oh fine.” You let him pick you up in his arms, inhaling that expensive fucking cologne, the one only he wears, Creed something- you looked it up one day and knew this fucker was rich. “You smell good.”

“You are wasted.” He smirks as he carries you up the winding stairs, heading to your hall now, murmurs of curious partiers ensuing, and you’re just clinging even tighter to his neck. “Which room is yours?”

“Mmm, 6A.” He opens your door now, Satoru has never been in your room, he can’t help but smile when he sees the amount of Harry Potter merch, and the Lord of the Rings posters all over.

“So nerdy.”

“I’m a Slytherin, sss.” You earn his laughter, as he eases you down, eyeing how the sheet is falling, making him flush, clearing his throat. “Satoru is scared of a naked girl, no way.”

“You’re terrifying is all. In general.”

“Mmm, it’s the Slytherin in me. Whoopsie, I’m naked.” You’re giggling now, stumbling over to your dresser, Satoru faces away quickly, one thing he’d never do is take advantage of a drunk girl.

Even though he’s dying to know what your body looks like, he busies himself by going to your little fridge, pulling out a cool water bottle. “You need water.”

“Thanks dad.” You’re giggling as he turns back around, your top half off and turned, shorts barely on, Satoru grimaces, handing you the bottle, gently moving your top. “You’re not shitfaced?”

“Nah, I can hold a drink, lightweight.” You glare a bit, downing the bottle in thirsty gulps, moaning, the sound so sexy his dick twitches in reaction.

“Why do you hate me?” Your question catches him off guard, he gets your top adjusted just to see perky nipples pressing thin material.

“Why do you hate me, drunky?” He asks softly, and you sigh, stumbling a bit as he helps you into bed, leaning over you now, tensing as your fingers trace his jaw.

“You’re beautiful.” He pauses, laughing now.

“You’re annihilated.”

“You’re beautiful alright. Mmm. No wonder they all line up.” He’s setting your water down as you doze off now, kissing your head gently, something he never thought he’d do, let alone with you.

“And you’re gorgeous, stubborn brat.” His whisper is met with your snore, he can’t help but stare at you for longer than he should, before he smirks, looking back at your dresser.

He sure won.

And that means…

Revenge.

*****

Present day

“You hung up all my boxers as revenge, even my Digimon ones! I’d say you got revenge.” Satoru teases, not knowing if you remembered any of that night after you’d been so drunk, and you show no signs of recollection as he wolfs down the food hungrily.

“I sure did. Those Digimon ones were cute.”

He smirks now. “Those Slytherin panties were sexy.”

“Oh yeah?” You raise a brow, and he grins.

“Oh yeah.”

The ultrasound this time was over the tummy, thank goodness, and this time it’s a little different, Satoru’s hand is on yours as he sits next to you, much different than the mess the two of you had been last time. The cold clear ultrasound liquid pours on your slightly rounded tummy, the cool wand pressing, just a little uncomfortable as they press harder, and you two look at the screen.

“There it is.” The doctor says, and you and Satoru hold your breath, the baby already looks more like a baby, this time you see it moving, it’s little legs, it’s head, making you tear up, and Satoru holds his breath.

“Look, long legs like dad already.” He says, voice just a bit husky, you’re blinking tears back as you grin.

“Can we see if it’s a boy or girl?” You ask, and the doctor smiles warmly, nodding at you.

“We should be able to, yes. Let’s see…” The doctor looks this way and that, pressing in different places, taking pictures on the black and white screen, when they finally get the view. “You’re having a little girl.”

“Oh my god.” You both whisper at the same time, you smile tremulously at Satoru, who’s enamored so clearly.

“Satoruette!”

“No.”

“A girl, huh?” Satoru’s murmuring later, as he takes you back home, hanging in your doorway, resting his elbow on the frame, and your bright, pretty smile nearly ends him.

God he wants you.

“A girl. Here…” You take one of the photos, handing it to him, he pulls out a black leather wallet, putting it in delicately, smiling so big. “She’s beautiful already.”

“How could she not be? You see her parents?” You flush a bit, looking down as he caresses your cheek.

“I’d really… love company tonight. If you could stay.”

“One sec.” Satoru practically bounces to the car, telling Kiyotaka he could head home, you’re smiling with amusement as he runs back, clearing his throat and grinning down at you. “Are you making dinner?”

“I’m making dinner.” The two of you, it feels so comfortable, so fucking natural, as you all talk, about his business, about your career, about the little girl growing inside of you, both of your little girl.

“You’re an amazing cook, shit.” He’s rubbing his tummy, sipping on the tea you’ve made to go along with dinner, and watches you rinse off the plates, looking over your shoulder at him. “Be a cute housewife.”

“Oh whatever!” You splash a little water from your hands as you dry them then, and he stands, coming so close to you, voice husky as he presses you against the counter.

“You would be. Barefoot, pregnant, look at you.”

“Misogyny!” You’re giggling when he picks you up, kissing you, the motion ruining any hope you have of acting normal, you tremble in his hold, in how good you feel in his arms.

“Feminism is so overrated.”

You roll your eyes, heating up at your proximity, at how your body reacts to his nearness. “You’re too much.”

“Hmm…” He’s kissing down your neck now, sighing as he pulls back then, looking down at you, blue eyes lit up so bright they’re insane to take in. “You got something for me to sleep in?”

“Your boxers work.”

“Oh yeah, so slutty.” He’s murmuring, raising a brow, as the two of you start kissing over and over, until he’s lifted you right on the kitchen table, just like he did this morning. “Did she miss me?”

“Fuck yes.” He’s chuckling, slipping up your skirt now, finding your cunt hot and eager, slipping two fingers in and earning your soft whine, kissing down your throat as your head falls back. “Please.”

“Who knew all this time, just had to get you to cum to be nice?’

“You- mnh!” He’s cutting your protest off with another kiss, a curl of his fingers in your slick, eager cunt.

“How many times did you cum thinking of me?” His cocky question earns your half assed glare, before you whine out and he pulls back, sucking on his fingers and moaning. “Answer me if you wanna cum.”

“You’re the worst. How many times did you stroke him, hmm?” Satoru cries out as you turn the damn tables on him, stroking him over his slacks, finding him hard and throbbing, precum leaking even through the material, which you thumb now. “Every night looking at my picture?”

“Brat. Evil. Demon.” His cheeks flush as he eagerly unzips his pants now, and hungrily leans down, lapping at your cunt hungrily, tongue slipping up your slit, moaning at your taste. “You this soaked baby?”

“Fuck me, fuck me please!” He’s in a rush, he’d like to take his time, but he can’t stand not being inside of you one more moment. He shoves his cock in your tight little cunt, making you cum then and there, shattering and making him sensitive as he watches you, kissing your plump lips, hand entangling in your hair.

“God, fucking feel her. So wet, so perfect.” His words along with his strokes end you, as he presses you harder against your own kitchen table, dishes and utensils clattering to the floor.

Satoru is still dressed, shit so are you, as he slides his cock in your eager hole, stuffing you so full, your cunt dripping all over, pooling on the wood underneath the two of you, and your head falls back, smacking it with a loud thud then. You wince and he panics, holding his hand under your head now, pausing.

“Shit you good!?” He huffs, pausing his strokes, you nod now, as he rubs the growing bump.

“I’m good, please more.”

“Baby you’re pregnant, should you be bashing your head!?” You glare up at him, cunt gripping him and eliciting a whine.

“Fuck me.”

“Demanding!” You’re giggling, he hopes you aren’t loopy, when he fucks back into you, careful to keep a palm under your head.

“You’re… so thick, mnh, there!” He’s groaning, losing himself inside you, feeling your soft curves under him, your breasts in his grip before he pulls back, finding your clit and rubbing, making you convulse under him. “Satoru!”

“That’s it baby, that’s it… f-fuck oh my… are you…” You’re gushing now as he elicits an orgasm that has you squirting all over his cock, screaming out, slamming your damn head back again as he pauses. “Water break?’

“You!” He’s chuckling, playing with your cunt in wonder, easing back a bit, slapping his cock right on your clit, making you gush more clear arousal all over, as you grip him, cunt pulsing more and more.

“You squirt?”

“I g-guess…” You’re damn near delirious, blushing as you see the mess you’ve made now. “Oh I…”

“Messy girl, tsk. Don’t do that when you’re far along, I’ll panic.” You scowl again, as he’s chuckling, fucking his dick into you deeper, as you cling to him, and he hears the wet sounds of his fucking echo in your kitchen.

“You’re… ridiculous- ah!” He’s moaning now, closer and closer, tip leaking precum and dragging just that spot, having you cumming all over once more, until you’re so weak and fucked out that you can barely function, just clinging to him as he pushes you further, a hand entangling in your hair at the nape of your neck. “Yes, yes, yes…”

“Bossy. Bratty. I’d spank you, choke you if you- ah, cumming from the thought, can’t help yourself?” He’s talking shit but you can’t argue, not when you can’t stop cumming, and he’s looking down at you with those eyes of his. “Beautiful.”

“Mmm!” You drag him down for a kiss, whispering - ‘cum in me’ and Satoru is not going to deny you it, no he fills you so good, until you’re both a complete fucking mess, sweaty, sticky, coated in both of your cum. You laugh after a moment, and he leans up a bit, looking at you curiously. “You really said, ‘Did my water break’ you jerk!”

Satoru laughs with you, easing out and pressing sweet kisses on your cheeks. “It scared me.”

“Whatever! I didn’t know…” You trail off, so cute Satoru can’t stand it, as the realization that he did that makes him damn near feral.

“I’m the first to make you?” You nod shyly, burying your face, inhaling that cologne that always tantalizes you, and he hums a bit. “I like that.”

“Making me cum so much?”

“I like that it’s me that has. Maybe I’m… feeling a little possessive, you are my baby mama.” You giggle now, and he pulls back, lips parting, wanting to say more, but stopping himself a bit, dizzy off you. “Let’s clean up.”

Soon you’re both all ready for bed, and Satoru hops in first, taking over your bed almost entirely with his long lanky body, patting a spot next to him and grinning at you, you roll your eyes a bit. “You’re too big for the bed!”

“You could come to my house anytime you know. Way bigger beds.”

“Hmm.” You come to lay down now, and he pulls you against him, the two of you try to ignore just how good and right it feels, while he presses little kisses on your bare shoulders.

“Why’d you want me to stay, miss me so bad?”

“I’m… lonely without you.” He pauses, faltering in his teasing, leaning up on an elbow, turning your face to him, sighing as he sees the emotions there. “Ignore it.”

“Ignore it?”

“Yeah. We have our lives, I don’t want to complicate it more for you. It’s fine that you went, that you had fun.”

“I didn’t.” You blink curiously, as he sighs, pulling you even tighter against him, hard chest against your back, arm wrapped around your waist, a hand splaying your tummy, feeling so perfect, so right.

“You didn’t?”

“No. I missed you too. Okay?” You nod then, he kisses you softer, sighing, breath tickling your swollen lips. “Alright waterfall, go to bed.”

“Waterfall!?”

“Mmhmm, monsoon.”

“Oh jesus.” He’s chuckling, the mood is eased, but the two of you lay there for far too long, as he holds you tightly in his arms, thinking.

A girl, you’re both having a girl.

The baby feels so real now, as he holds you close, burying his face, hearing you lightly snore, smiling against your neck. He dreads going back to work, he dreads doing anything but holding you, kissing you, being with you. Of course having you cum all over his cock was amazing, but this is just as good, fucking…

Terrifying.

He doesn’t know if you feel anything close.

******

Three weeks later- five months along

The next few weeks fly by in a blur, no doctor appointments but Satoru frequently calls and messages. Once you heard a party in the background, and part of you feels this… sadness, you can’t just do that ever again. It’s fine, sure, but your life now is work, trying to make sure they still don’t ask you if you’re pregnant, despite your tummy growing, and tits swelling, and then…

Studying.

The more you do learn about being a parent, the harder it becomes to fathom it, the responsibility, shit at any moment a baby can just… not live anymore, and you have to be afraid of everything. Is the baby getting the right nutrition, will you have a normal labor, will the baby be healthy inside your tummy. So much information the stress eats at you.

You have no reason to really see Gojo, so when he pops up knocking on your door suddenly, you falter. You see him on your app, and use the buzzer to murmur ‘hang on a minute’ as you hurriedly rush and wash your hot cheeto dusted fingers, and brush your teeth. You peer at your dark circles- another pregnancy gift, surprise, you’re anemic!

Shit.

Why would he find you attractive, in your dumb little sweats that you’re almost not able to pull over your ass, that has just gotten bigger. Apparently girls do that, they make your ass and hips huge too. You frown as you turn in the mirror, tummy pooching out of the tee shirt that once covered it, and Satoru is still annoyingly ringing at your door bell, at ten pm.

“Hold on!” You stomp over to the front door, opening it then, and he’s still got stupid black shades on, grinning down at you, as he leans a hand on your doorway, you see his car right behind his body in your parking lot. “What’s up?”

“I needed to… see you, it's been weeks. I…” He trails off, eyes darting down your body, nipples that just want to poke out of your white tee shirt, then lower to your tummy, making him falter. “You’re showing more.”

“Yeah, I know.” Your dejected voice makes him frown. “Did you need something, or…”

“Just… I felt like… I should be here?” You blink a bit then, flushing in his presence, finally stepping aside.

“Come in, I’m sorry. I’m cranky.”

“You were before the parasyte-”

“Satoru!”

“Sorry, sorry.” He holds his hands up in defeat, and you relax just a bit.

“I’m feeling so achy, tired… I’m anemic I guess.”

Satoru frowns now. “That’s low iron, yeah?”

“Hot cheetos aren’t a good source of iron.” You’re smiling just a bit, and he’s chuckling, brushing back his white locks and easing off his shades now, blue eyes so pretty they wreck you, even as used to them as you are.

“Iron supplements then. Are you taking any?” You nod a bit, tugging at your shirt, and his hand comes to touch your tummy now, making your breath catch. “Bad girl, better take that iron.”

“You gonna punish me, hmm?” He’s leaning lower now, stepping further and further inside your quiet little home, hand firmly on your tummy as he backs you until you’re against the opposite wall.

“Think I won’t? Did you miss me sweetheart?” His voice is cocky, full of himself, but you hear it, the vulnerability, the raw need.

Your heart pounds as you nod just a bit, before you can stop yourself, shaking your head. “No way.”

“Did she miss me?” He’s got a thigh between yours, moaning as he feels your heat, hands on either side of your head, his own resting on yours as he bends over, earning your whine as he presses his thigh up.

“You missed me? Or her?” Your breathy words are right against his lips, and he dies to tell you, how badly he’s wanted to come over, how badly he needs you, all of you.

But he gulps instead, lifting that strong muscled thigh higher, watching your pretty face falter, breasts that have gotten so much fuller rising with your breaths enticing him, making him lower a hand. He brushes the sides of them with his fingertips, watching your nipples perk out more in response, cock throbbing with need now.

“Maybe I missed you both.” His hushed declaration ends you, your hands slipping up his polo now, gripping the material tightly and yanking him lower, while you arch your hips.

“Am I still sexy, Satoru?” Your whisper ends him, he moans now, hands finding purchase on your hips.

“So sexy I can’t think of anything but fucking your sweet little cunt, hmm?” You’re tearing his clothes damn near off him, releasing every bit of anything you’ve been holding back, as you both stumble back to your room. ‘Missed you, fuck’

You think you heard that, but it’s hard to hear when there’s ringing in your ears, when you’re struggling to catch your breath, with just how good Satoru fucking feels, the way he touches you, how he just lifts you like you’re nothing, even as you feel so weird in your own body. He just forces your brain to think of one thing- fucking him, kissing him, feeling him.

“God, you’re so fucking hot.” He whispers, on his knees as he slips off the rest of your clothes, falling in a whisper to your ankles, kissing a new little mark left by his baby, making him feral, groaning as he inhales you, but you’re yanking up on him.

“Satoru, please fuck me.” Satoru’s not going to turn you down, ever, he’s immediately hard, kissing you deeper and deeper, hand reaching down to grip swollen breasts, moaning.

“Which way, baby, hmm?” He’s whispering, you press him down then, right on your bed, and he tries to take your shirt off, making you pause. “Lemme see you, fuck, please…”

“I’m all jiggly ugh!” He’s shaking his head, lifting your top now, your tits bounce out, full of milk already, while his cock strains against his black boxers, his snowy lashes lowering and casting shadows against his high cheekbones.

“Fucking sexy, shit.” He’s running a hand over your tummy now, thumb brushing a new stretch mark, as you hungrily kiss him, grinding your slick cunt against him, soaking his denim. “Lemme touch you.”

You nod weakly, as he reaches down, rolling his thumb against your clit, which twitches and throbs in reaction, soaking him further. Your head falls back, it feels so fucking good, the two of you have barely seen each other with your work, and his running of his company, so much that it’s probably been a few weeks since you’ve cum at all.

“So eager, baby, huh?” His taunting should annoy you, but it doesn’t, you’re whining and nodding, as he taps your hip, urging you to kneel, and he slips his pretty cock out, smacking his belly button with precum. “God, so wet.”

“Need it, fuck, please.” You’re grinding your slick, eager cunt along his length, as Satoru moans out, urging you with your hips, fingers gripping the curve of them.

“Then take it baby.” You whine out, leaning forward, titties in his face, he sucks at a nipple, sore and sensitive, making you wetter, tummy clenching.

“Satoru!” You’re reaching down, gripping his thick length with a small little hand in comparison, looking down as you guide his tip against your entrance.

“C’mon, sweetheart, you can take him all, can’t you?” You shake your head, struggling to take just the tip of him, whining out, he chuckles then, flipping you over, kissing down your tummy, as your hands enwrap in his hair.

“Satoru…”

“Let me get her nice and ready, huh?” You’re flushed as he kisses even lower, spreading your thighs and groaning at the sight of your slick, glistening pussy, latching his mouth right around your clit, sucking it in as he holds your lips open, moaning as he eyes you.

Your breasts bounce, so full, his hand resting right on your rounded tummy, while you yank on his silky locks, gasping. “There, oh there, please don’t stop- m’so close, Toru please…”

“Mmm, that’s it, cum all over m’face, sweetheart.” He urges, and you shatter, thighs trapping his head in the best position he can even imagine, shaking on either side while your cunt drools out more and more. “That’s it…” He’s mumbling, yanking you closer on his face now.

Everything that’s been swirling through your mind shuts off completely, as your orgasm rocks through your body by his far, far too talented tongue, teeth, fingers, all of him working you so fucking well. ‘M-missed you’ may have slipped from your lips, earning his widened blue eyes.

“Missed me?” He repeats, pressing a kiss on your quivering little clit, slipping two fingers inside your heat as you nod then, tears making your eyes glimmer from just how good it feels. “Missed me making you cum?”

“And more, shh.” You shut him off as you stroke his cock, making him groan, he leans over you now, lifting a thigh and sinking inside you in one stroke. “Fuck, so big oh my god…”

That’s nice to hear.

He’s smirking as your eyes roll back, fucking into you, careful to keep his weight off your tummy, but suddenly as you’re rolling your hips up, he feels something. You’re clinging to him, he’s sucking on a puffy little nipple, moaning at how good you feel, trying to ignore what just occurred, what he just felt from you, when suddenly it happens again, and he pauses.

“Is that… is she kicking?” He whispers now, pulling back, your face is covered in a thin sheen of your sweat, as you lean your head up a bit, looking down and touching your lower tummy.

“Probably all the excitement. It’s fine.” You’re yanking him down for another kiss, and Satoru yanks back. “Satoru, please…”

“The first kick and I’m… oh my god.”

“You’re getting soft, ugh!”

“Sorry, but oh my god.” Satoru pulls back, huge cock even on soft, as he panics, hand slicking through his white locks, shaking it in shock. “What if she knows!?”

“Satoru, she doesn't know, stop it.” You’re up on your elbows, trying to catch your breath as you watch your… baby daddy?... panic.

“What if the first thing the baby knows is my dick!? Shit!” He’s hopped off the bed now, pacing completely naked, and you grimace, laying back, body on edge, pussy still fucking pulsing around nothing now.

“It doesn’t know that, there’s a cervix there!”

“I’m huge, what if-”

“Oh jesus, why did I think you’d want to?” You’re sniffling now, standing and rushing over to your dresser, starting to snatch up clothes, and Satoru immediately stops you.

“No, no I want you, I swear.” You turn and he sees your tears, cursing. “I do, you’re gorgeous like this.”

“I am not, you were just being nice. I’m all jiggly ugh! And you don’t even… I shouldn’t have suggested that.” You’re a mess as you dress up, Satoru’s pulling you against his chest, leaning down as you shake your head, tears streaming down your cheeks. “It’s okay if you don’t anymore, I’m sure you can have anyone.”

“What now?” He glares down at you, cupping your face, feeling you tremble in his hold. “That’s bullshit. This is not about you it’s… I’m scared I’ll hurt the baby.”

“Sex is fine, even close to delivery, I’m not so far we can’t go at it.” You eye him now, shaking your head. “Pregnant sex can be weird I’m sure, I shouldn’t have… pounced on you, shit.”

“Stop it. Now.” He grabs your chin, pressing a kiss on your lips, feeling how tense you are as his other hand slips up your back. “I want you. I just got… scared. It’s not how I wanted to know she kicks now.”

You sigh now, nodding and kissing him again, letting him hold you so tightly, fuck it feels good, just being in his arms. So good it’s scaring you. “You’re a good person.”

“What now? You bonk your head again?”

“You are. You’re sweet and caring, and you’re sparing my feelings.”

“Oh fuck this.” He glares, turning you around now, until you’re facing your dresser mirror, looming so tall over you as he arches your back, slipping your shorts right back off. “Look at you.”

“A mess…” He sighs, yanking your top off, a hand gripping a tit, squishing it in his big palm as he presses his cock back against your entrance, watching as your eyes dilate in the reflection, your teeth catching your bottom lip.

“Beautiful mess. Sexy, these tits, this ass? This body… those eyes…” He presses his cock inside you, lifting your thigh up as he bends down, resting your thigh up on your dresser, holding you like you’re nothing. “This perfect, tight little cunt around me.”

“S’good, you’re- ah!” He’s slammed his cock deep then, your hand comes to rest on the cool glass of the mirror, leaving a palm print as he shoves his cock so deep, throbbing in your slick walls, which gush down his length.

“You’re gorgeous, talk shit again and I’ll punish you, hmm?” You nod eagerly, as he laughs against your neck, fingers twisting your nipples. “This is what you wanted, should have asked me over. Needed to cum all over my cock, sweetheart?”

“Y-yes, please, please- mnh!” You’re done as he fucks into you, a little rougher but still cautious, holding onto you, your head falls back against his chest, his reflection revealing eyes nearly black with desire, his huge hands overtaking you by every inch of your skin, his teeth sinking into your neck when he hits deep, making you gasp.

“That’s it, cum f’me baby…” His words end you again, when don’t they, but something is so intimate when he tilts your chin down. “Watch how pretty you still are, you’re prettier, okay?”

You tear up as you nod, and one thing hits as deep as his long, curved cock against your cervix-

Your feelings.

You’re in love with him.

Fuck.

You’re convulsing when he presses in once more, having you watch until you can’t even see anymore, until your eyes roll back and you’re blinded, drool falling right out of your mouth as your walls flutter around him. Satoru groans, you’re so sensitive you can’t stop cumming, when he fills you so good, cum coating every bit of your slick hole now.

He’s whimpering in your ear, clinging to you, and one thought reigns through his ringing ears, as he feels you twitching and shaking in his embrace, as he feels your muscles pushing his cum all down his length, mixing with your slick arousal. One thought infiltrates his mind as he watches your beautiful face, as he hears your whines, as he sees your eyes open back up.

He’s in love with you.

Fuck.

Has he always been?

He eases you down now, gently, eyeing the condensation left from your breath against that now messy mirror, both of your hand prints against it, his so big, yours so small in comparison. He places your feet on the floor after pulling his thick cock out of your tightening cunt, still staring at you in the mirror now, gulping down the heavy emotions of the moment.

He knew it wasn’t just sex, he knew something deeper was there, but the way your eyes meet him, the way you’re clinging to him, the way his hand brushes your tummy, pressing just a bit, it’s so intimate it takes his breath. The madness, the passion, it’s just pieces of it, the connection, then and there, without words, overwhelms his senses so badly he can’t imagine not having this.

“Thank you for it, all of it. Thank you for-”

“Shh.” He turns your chin, lowering his head, taking over your every sense, when you taste yourself on his plump lips, pressing kisses against yours. “Don’t thank me for showing you the truth.”

“Satoru…” You turn now, pulling him down, kissing him over and over, as he pulls you gently against him, picking you up in his arms, lifting you until you’re sitting on your dresser, exhaling and running his hands down you. “You make me feel so pretty.”

“You should. One thing you’ve always been is pretty, even when you’re mean, or… psychotic.” You’re laughing now, as he continues to swipe your tears. “I’d never be here if I didn’t want to be.”

“I know that. I got in my head?”

“So did I, shit.” You both laugh softly, and Satoru’s alarm goes off, he grimaces as he looks at it. “I have work in the morning or I’d stay.”

“Oh, it’s okay. You can go if you need.” He frowns now, shaking his head just a bit, brushing your hair back off your neck, as the ceiling fan works overtime to make either of your overheated bodies cool.

“Come stay with me for a couple days, help me set up a nursery? You can spend all my black card you want.” You giggle now, nodding, earning his relieved little smile, you’re so stressed, he can feel it in your energy, he can see it on your pretty, exhausted face.

“I’d love to. I’m so excited.” Soon you’re both by the front door, and Satoru’s kissing your head, holding you against him tightly.

“We are naming her Satoruette, right?”

“No way.”

“Maybe you are still mean.” He pouts, earning more of your laughter, tilting your chin up as the cool breeze from the dark, starry night pours in.

“Kiyotaka better get good money for all this.”

“He’s richer than me, psh.” You roll your eyes, falling back into his hug.

“I’m… excited to spend time with you.” Your whisper touches him then, as he holds you close, falling deeper every moment, feeling a little kick against him.

“All you need is dick hmm?”

“Oh god!”

He’s grinning, so fucking handsome then, with the moonlight enhancing that tall silhouette of his, your heart races. You almost say you love him, fuck it feels horrible not saying it, but what does that make the two of you? So far you’re practicing being friends, co parents, sleeping together, but tonight, when he whispered how pretty you were?

When he held you?

When he reassured you?

Fuck you can barely hold the words back.

“Get some sleep, go eat your hot cheetos.”

“Oh!” You shove at him playfully as he grins, leaving you alone, back resting against the cool wood of your door, mind whirling.

After a nice hot shower, you get your text, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t look forward to them, to them all. Even his pervy, ridiculous and goofy texts- like this one.

 Fratboy Gojo🙄 Tell Satoruette good night from her Papa <3 

You giggle, shaking your head, sipping on some water as you set the smut book you’ve been reading on your tablet down.

Sorority Brat 💦😻 Satoruette will never be her name, but I will tell her good night for you.

Satoru smiles down at his phone, he can still taste you, he can still inhale your scent all over him, see your pretty face in his head. He turns on his side, dying to hold you in his arms once more, only once he ever had really, but he longs to have you, to have you all the time.

Fratboy Gojo🙄 Daddy says good night to you too.

Sorority Brat 💦😻 I’m never calling you daddy!

Fratboy Gojo🙄 You will one day ;) 

Sorority Brat 💦😻 Lol, good night Satoru, see you soon.

Fratboy Gojo🙄 Good night, sweets.

The two of you fall asleep, love deep in your hearts and building with each breath, him holding a body pillow, picturing you, as you touch your tummy lovingly, feeling a little kick, smiling now. “Dad said good night, sweet girl.”

They're in lovvvvvee- I snorted at several scenes here, I have way too much fun with him. I said four parts so expect either a VERY long next part for the last, or two more (it's me lol) hope you enjoyyy

taglist #1- @jannythewriter-pt2 @gojosoups @lycoris-radiata-4-sale @cutiepi-iee @closerbutnevertogether @myahfig4 @coq1myun @rinny27 @abibliolife @coq1myun @megumisthirdog @p4lli @turtlebangtan @webshooterrr9 @aldebrana @msqudo18 @s0ulsnatchaaa @ovela @midnaamethyste @nearlyfuckingwitches @shibataimu @msniks @missthatgirl @fantasy1nightmare0 @maddyhehehehhe @yourst3pm0mmy @haithamsbb @rentheannihilator @ilovebeansyay @lemonswirlz @dilfkentolover @evelynxxo @bkgnotsuma @suki91 @burntasian @nakiich @hyunjinsruinedpainting @miniv1x3n @minascasket @ihrtmack @contaminatedcupcake @girlwithn0j0b @tokyi999 @queenofthekill @verriees @vullzo @jkslaugh97 @howmanytimesamigoingtotrythis @nkpajares @emonaculate

[rafesangelita]

♡ just dilf!rafe making sure everything is to his liking when his precious little bunny comes home from all of her beauty appointments!

warnings: fluff, bunny being a lil clingy, suggestive language, use of the nickname ‘daddy’ (pls scroll if it’s not for you), heavy petting, fingering, oral sex (f. receiving), praise, finger sucking, slight overstimulation

a/n: i recently got all of my beauty appointments done so this felt fitting lol. read more of dilf!rafe x bunny!reader here <3

wc: 1.4k

while rafe never let you step out of the house by yourself, there was very few instances when he did. going out with your girlfriends and paying for all of your appointments was one of those things, and he didn’t mind in the slightest. the day would start very early in the morning so that you’d have enough time to get everything done. rafe would watch you from the front door as you basically hopped down the driveway in excitement before getting into your best friend’s obnoxiously pink car, your lip gloss still sparkling on his lips from when you kissed him before leaving.

maybe it was the father instinct inside of him, but rafe made it a point to always pay for you and your besties meals, the idea of you going hungry or having an empty stomach just not sitting right with him. you and your friends would start the day by knocking out whatever took the longest, so that all of you could breeze through the extra upkeep and still go shopping afterwards. despite rafe tracking your location and checking where you were at religiously, he still wanted you to text him and send him photos and updates throughout the day.

he’d smile down at his phone whenever your contact name, which you came up with by yourself, would pop up on his screen.

[1:15 PM] bunnie ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡: i miss you sooo much already daddy. thank you for the food it was yummy <3 me and the girls still have a handful of things to do but i’m hoping to be done soon!!

[2:57 PM] bunnie ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡: i think you’re going to reallyyy like the color of my nails!! my toes came out super cute too 🎀

[4:03 PM] bunnie ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡: (1 attached image) look at this pink flatiron at the salon! i need one just like this! pretty pleaseeee!

he’d reply to each message, even going ahead and buying that flatiron with overnight delivery so you could have it in your pretty hands in no time. you two would go on like this until you’d finally send him that ‘on my way!’ text, a relieved sigh falling from his lips. as much as he liked for you to have your girl time, he selfishly wanted to have you all to himself more than anything. rafe had already been anticipating your arrival, your favorite candles already lit up upstairs in his bedroom. it wasn’t long before he heard the faint bump of music outside, your playful yelp sounding from down the driveway as you struggled to carry all of your shopping bags.

rafe was quick to help you out, your best friends teasingly telling him hi as he briefly waved at them before guiding you inside. “oh, i missed you!” you didn’t waste any time in throwing your arms around his neck, the scent of sweet vanilla filling up his senses. you clung to him like a koala, your legs wrapping tightly around his waist as he made his way upstairs. “yeah? i missed you more.” you breathed him in, smiling softly against his chest as he put your bags down on the chair he had in the corner. “everything go good?” he took a seat at the edge of the bed, resting his hands on the soft globes of your ass.

“mhmm!” you nodded, “i’m happy with how everything came out.” rafe pecked your lips before helping you up on your feet. “let me get a good look at you.” standing up, you couldn’t help but feel shy as he scanned over your figure agonizingly slow. “your hair looks real nice, baby, that style suits you.” your cheeks heated at the simple compliment. “wow look at your lashes, ‘you try out a different lash map?” you gasped softly, hitting his shoulder playfully. “look at you using girly terms!” rafe was bound to learn about the stuff you’d be rambling on and on about, your lashes being one of many things he now knew the intricacies of.

“your eyebrow lady did a real good job, too.” you wiggled your brows suggestively, fluttering your lashes at him while he took your hand in his. “you were right, i absolutely love this color on you,” he took in the pinky nude of your manicure, placing a soft kiss on your knuckles, “let me see those toes.” you giggled, bringing your foot to his lap as you held onto his arms for leverage. “wow, you got a bow charm?” you smiled down at the sight, “yes! isn’t it so cute? she even put on some rhinestones for free because i’m a regular!” rafe massaged the back of your calf, guiding you back down on the bed.

“damn, bunny, and your skin is so soft, you got that full body wax?” you welcomed him between your thighs, running your freshly manicured nail down the side of his jaw. “yes, i know how much you like it..” he kissed you deeply, his lower half grinding down on where you needed him most. you couldn’t help the whine from leaving your lips, your glazed orbs shining with something mischievous. “do you want to see how that came out, too?” rafe smiled, his fingers already hooking between your skirt and the waistband of your panties. “yeah? you gonna let daddy inspect you?”

once your clothes were off and forgotten about on the floor, rafe took your thighs and spread them open to expose your bare cunt, the look on his face making you take your bottom lip between your teeth. “fuck,” he marveled, “you’re just so pretty, you know that?” you smiled, melting under his gentle touch. he looked up at you as if to ask ‘can i?’ before you nodded. rafe sat back on his heels, stroking your glistening folds as you writhed with desire. “i need to be inside of you so bad..” oh, how bad you needed that too. “rafe, we can’t have sex for at least a full twenty-four hours.” you pouted.

“but we did it last time.” you giggled, shaking your head. “i know, but i’m so sensitive..” rafe sighed, leaning down so he could whisper against your lips. “would a little touching hurt, though?” you gasped when he slipped a digit inside your entrance, his long digit filling you just right. with the pad of his thumb, he began rubbing hard circles on your clit, your eyes fluttering shut at the sensation. “you’re so perfect, always dressing and getting dolled up the way i want you to.” he curled his finger, nudging that soft spot inside of you that made you see stars.

your back arched softly off of the bed, your fingers intertwining with his own. he kept his eyes on your trembling form, your mouth falling open as moans and whimpers fell from your lips. “i’m so close, ray..” the man above you lowered his head between your thighs, popping his digits into your mouth so you could taste yourself on his fingers. “so soft and smooth, i could eat this cunt for days.” you cried out loud when you felt his tongue prod at your opening, the tip of his nose finding your sensitive bud. “fuckkk!” you covered your mouth at the slip up, yelping when you felt rafe pinch your inner thigh.

“what have i told you about cussing?” he groaned, pulling away from your soaked pussy before diving back in again, your hands shooting up to cup your tits. rafe watched your face carefully, the rise and fall of your chest being a telltale sign that you were going to finish soon. you felt the familar heat begin to simmer in your tummy, your thighs threatening to snap shut as the coil in your stomach got tighter and tighter with every stroke of rafe’s tongue. “oh, my god!” your eyes rolled back when the band in your tummy finally snapped, your orgasm hitting you in waves of pure bliss.

your breath shook as you thrashed against rafe’s mouth, your thighs locking around his head as he pinned you down by your hips. your mouth opened but no sound, except for a pathetic shriek came out, your hands fighting rafe off in an attempt to pull away from him. that only made him grip you tighter, his tongue working relentlessly on your poor cunt. it wasn’t until you tapped out, your nails digging into rafe’s arm before he gave you a final kiss, his gentle hands massaging into the skin of your calves. you whimpered as rafe helped you come down from the aftershocks of your orgasm, your vision hazy.

rafe licked his lips clean, palming at the hard-on in his boxers. “how about just the tip?” all it took was one blissful glance at him through your lashes before he was yanking you towards the edge of his bed by your ankles.

[sunshinesfreckless]

Every Girl Gets Her Wish

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Pairing: Hyunlix x Fem!Reader

Summary: Just Felix being unable to say no to his girlfriend.

Warnings: Phew…. Double Penetration, Lots of Sex, we also got a bit of Dick on Dick action thanks to Hyunjin and Felix, a little bit of Breeding kink…. yk a little bit of this a little bit of that….Minors DNI

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Felix had never really thought of himself as a voyeur, but maybe he was. Or maybe it was just Y/N. Maybe it was just Hyunjin.

Whenever he took his girlfriend, fucked her good, he wanted people to know. His boys, especially. Maybe it was ego, maybe it was something else, but he liked it when they heard. When they knew how she moaned, how she came apart under him. And maybe—just maybe—he liked the idea of one of them stepping in.

Hyunjin, especially.

────୨ৎ────

It started as a passing thought, just a flicker in his brain during late-night practices when he was too tired to think straight. The way Hyunjin’s lips always looked plush and wet, the way his fingers were long and delicate, the way he looked at Y/N sometimes—too fast to be caught, but Felix saw. He always saw.

Then, the night in the dorm kitchen happened.

Felix should’ve pulled away when Hyunjin walked in, should’ve at least covered her up. But he didn’t. Instead, his grip on her thighs tightened, lifting her slightly, angling her just right. He wanted Hyunjin to see. See the way Y/N took him so well, see how her body responded, how she moaned into the marble countertop, breathless and needy. And Hyunjin—he didn’t leave. He didn’t say a word. He just stared, mesmerized, tongue darting out to wet his lips.

Felix had fucked her harder after that.

Now, he couldn’t stop thinking about it. Couldn’t stop picturing what would’ve happened if Hyunjin had stepped closer. If he had bent down, taken one of Y/N’s nipples into his mouth, let her whimper against his tongue. If he had traced his fingers over her stomach, lower, lower, until—

Felix exhaled sharply.

Beside him, Y/N shifted. Then, she turned to him, eyes heavy with something unreadable. Felix set his phone down as she leaned in, her voice quiet but certain.

“I want to have sex with Hyunjin.”

His heart slammed against his ribs.

Fuck.

────୨ৎ────

Felix didn’t hesitate. He never did when it came to Y/N. His princess got what she wanted—always. And if she wanted Hyunjin, then that was exactly what she was going to get.

He had to be smart about it, though. Had to make sure Hyunjin knew this wasn’t some weird setup, wasn’t some test of loyalty. He could already imagine the way Hyunjin would furrow his brows, lips pressing into a tight line, searching Felix’s face for any sign of a trap.

“You’re serious?” Hyunjin had asked when Felix finally brought it up, voice low, careful.

Felix just smiled. “She wants you.”

Hyunjin scoffed, crossing his arms. “And you’re just… okay with that?”

Felix leaned in, his voice dropping. “More than okay.”

The disbelief lingered in Hyunjin’s eyes, but Felix saw the way his throat bobbed, the way his fingers twitched, restless. He was thinking about it. That was enough for now.

────୨ৎ────

So Felix set it up.

Y/N deserved more than some awkward, hesitant arrangement. She deserved to be wanted, to be cherished, to feel like the center of the universe. So he made sure everything was perfect—her favorite lingerie, soft lighting, the scent of vanilla lingering in the air. And then, he sent Hyunjin a simple text:

“Come to your room.”

Hyunjin walked in first, shoulders tense, still half-expecting some kind of joke. But when he saw her, all that skepticism melted away.

She was waiting for them, sprawled across his bed like she belonged there, wrapped in delicate lace, smiling so brightly it made his chest ache. Like she was the happiest girl in the world. Because Felix had given her exactly what she wanted.

Hyunjin turned his head slightly, eyes flickering to Felix.

Felix just grinned.

“Go on,” he murmured. “She’s waiting for you.”

And fuck, if that didn’t make Hyunjin’s knees weak.

Hyunjin swallowed hard, gaze flickering between Y/N—laid out so perfectly for them—and Felix, who stood beside him, entirely at ease.

“Come here,” Felix murmured, voice smooth, knowing. He stepped forward first, crawling onto the bed like he’d done a thousand times before, settling between Y/N’s legs. His hand ran up her thigh, slow, possessive, before he turned back to Hyunjin, a teasing smirk playing on his lips. “Let me show you what she likes.”

Y/N let out a quiet sigh as Felix’s fingers trailed over her stomach, his touch light enough to make her shiver. “She likes it when you take your time,” he continued, voice dropping lower. His fingers brushed over the lace covering her, making her hips twitch. “She likes being touched like this first—gentle, teasing. Gets her desperate for more.”

Hyunjin exhaled sharply, but he listened. He sat on the edge of the bed, watching Felix’s hands, watching Y/N’s reactions, her breath hitching, her lips parting just so.

Felix glanced at Hyunjin, eyes dark with something unreadable. Then, he reached out, grabbed Hyunjin’s wrist, and guided his hand over Y/N’s thigh. “Feel how warm she is?” Felix murmured. “She’s been waiting for you, too.”

Y/N whimpered, pressing into their touch, and Hyunjin felt like he was drowning.

Felix’s voice was right by his ear when he spoke again. “Kiss her,” he whispered. “She’s so pretty when she gets kissed.”

Hyunjin hesitated for half a second before leaning in, brushing his lips against Y/N’s. She melted into him immediately, fingers threading into his hair, pulling him closer. He could taste the sweetness of her lip gloss, feel the soft hum she let out against his mouth.

And then, just as Hyunjin was getting lost in her, Felix’s fingers tilted his chin.

Hyunjin barely had time to process it before Felix kissed him.

It was slow, deliberate, a test—but also not. Felix kissed like he did everything else, confident and easy, like he already knew Hyunjin would kiss him back.

And fuck—he did.

The air in the room shifted, heavier now, hotter. Y/N whimpered between them, watching with wide, eager eyes as Felix pulled back just enough to smirk.

“See?” he murmured. “Told you this is what she wanted.”

And maybe—just maybe—it was what Felix wanted too.

Felix didn’t stop.

Hyunjin was still catching his breath from that kiss, lips tingling, head spinning, but Felix was already moving. His hands ghosted over the hem of Hyunjin’s shirt, fingers brushing bare skin as he pulled it up and off. Hyunjin let him. Let Felix undress him, piece by piece, watching as Felix’s own shirt hit the floor next.

Y/N lay between them, eyes glazed with want, her hands skimming over their bodies, exploring.

Then, Felix’s hands were back on her, tracing the straps of her lingerie, playing with the delicate lace before sliding it down, baring her inch by inch. “Perfect,” he murmured, voice thick with admiration.

Hyunjin swallowed hard.

Felix noticed.

His smirk was slow, knowing. He tilted his head slightly, voice low, taunting. “You want to touch her?”

Hyunjin exhaled, shaky and uneven. His gaze flickered to Y/N’s, searching for permission—for confirmation that this wasn’t just Felix testing him.

She met his eyes, and for a second, she was so soft. So willing.

Then, without hesitation, her fingers wrapped around his wrist, delicate but firm, guiding him exactly where she wanted.

The first brush of his fingers against her made her gasp.

Her thighs twitched, back arching slightly, hips pressing closer to him on instinct. Warm. So fucking warm. Hyunjin swallowed hard, his breath coming out in a shudder as he watched his fingers disappear inside her.

Felix sat back, a quiet curse slipping from his lips. He was watching everything, chest rising and falling in short, uneven exhales, his pupils so blown they were nearly black.

Hyunjin worked her open, pushing deeper, curling his fingers just right.

Y/N moaned.

She spread her legs wider, giving them both a perfect view. And then, slowly, deliberately, she reached down with her free hand—using her own fingers to spread her pussy lips even more.

Hyunjin choked on air.

Felix nearly groaned.

“See how tight her pussy is?” Felix murmured, voice low and wrecked.

Hyunjin’s breathing stuttered. His fingers flexed inside her. His eyes flicked up to Felix, something dark and unreadable swirling in them.

“You kept that all for yourself?”

Felix chuckled, running a hand through his hair. His smirk widened, lazy and dangerous.

“Not anymore,” he murmured, shifting closer. His voice was a husky promise.

We stretch her out today.

Their smiles matched.

But Y/N—Y/N smiled the most.

Oh, this was heaven.

Hyunjin wasn’t hesitant anymore.

The second he had Y/N trembling under his fingers, once he saw the way Felix devoured every little reaction, something inside him snapped.

His grip tightened on her thigh. His other hand fisted the sheets beside her head. He wanted more.

Y/N let out a soft, surprised gasp as Hyunjin pushed her back onto the bed, his body hovering over hers. His eyes were wild, pupils dark, jaw clenched tight.

He wanted to ruin her.

Felix leaned in, his breath warm against her ear. “Let him, princess.”

And she did.

Hyunjin spread her wide, lining himself up, the head of his cock nudging against her entrance. His grip on her thigh was firm, holding her still, keeping her open as he eased inside, stretching her inch by inch.

Her lips parted in a soundless moan.

Felix’s breathing hitched. His fingers flexed against his thighs.

Hyunjin let out a slow, shaking breath, his head dropping to her shoulder as her tight heat swallowed him whole. His jaw tightened, a deep groan breaking from his throat.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his voice wrecked, already breathless. “You feel so fucking good.”

Felix’s cock twitched painfully at the sight.

And then Hyunjin moved.

Deep. Slow. Deliberate.

A steady, claiming rhythm.

Y/N gasped, her back arching off the bed, nails dragging down Hyunjin’s arms. Her tiny, helpless whimpers filled the room, mixing with the slick sounds of her soaked pussy taking him so easily.

Felix couldn’t fucking look away.

The way Hyunjin fucked her, the way Y/N arched into it, the way her pretty little moans grew louder with every thrust—

He was gone.

“Felix,” Y/N moaned, reaching out blindly, her body shuddering between them. Desperate. Needy for her Boyfriend.

Hyunjin’s gaze flickered up, something dark and knowing swirling in his eyes. He saw it too—the way she ached for more.

“Come here,” he murmured, his voice low, husky. “She wants you.”

Felix didn’t let them ask twice.

He was on the bed in seconds, his hand sliding over her heated skin, feeling her tremble beneath his touch. His lips crashed into hers, swallowing her soft, breathy whimpers, his tongue teasing hers—hot, slick, claiming. She tasted so fucking sweet, so wrecked already, but he wanted more.

And then Hyunjin.

Felix barely had a moment to breathe before their eyes met again, their lips only a whisper apart. He could feel Hyunjin’s breath—warm, uneven —ghosting against his mouth, and suddenly, he wasn’t thinking anymore.

He just took.

Their lips collided again—this time with no hesitation, no second-guessing, no restraint.

It was Filthy.

Their tongues tangled, the kiss messy, deep, hungry, like they had been waiting for this just as much as Y/N had. Felix groaned into it, his fingers sliding lower, palming Hyunjins balls through his thrusts, feeling the way his cock buried deep inside her, the way he filled her so perfectly.

Hyunjin moaned into his mouth, the sound low and wrecked. His hips stuttered, but he didn’t stop. If anything, he fucked Y/N even harder.

Rough. Deep.

Felix felt every thrust, felt the heat radiating from them both, the damp sweat clinging to their skin. He pulled back, panting, watching the way Hyunjin’s cock disappeared into Y/N’s tight, wet pussy, the way she arched into every movement, the way her lips trembled, her eyes fluttering shut as pleasure consumed her.

She loved this. She fucking loved this.

And then Hyunjin flipped her over, pressing her down onto the bed.

Positioning her just right.

“Open your mouth for Felix,” Hyunjin murmured against her ear, his breath hot, his fingers gripping her jaw—not too rough, but just enough to make her shiver.

Y/N obeyed immediately.

Lips parting. Tongue flicking out. Eyes pleading.

Felix’s cock twitched at the sight.

“Fuck,” he muttered, a deep, low growl, his fingers threading into her hair, gripping it just tight enough to make her gasp.

Hyunjin smirked behind her, one hand sliding down the curve of her back, spreading her open, watching her drip for them.

Felix exhaled shakily. “That’s my girl,” he whispered. Rough. Possessive.

And then Hyunjin thrust into her from behind, slow and deep, while Felix slipped between her lips, groaning the second the heat of her mouth wrapped around him.

They moved in sync.

Hyunjin’s thrusts rocked her forward, forcing her to take Felix deeper, her throat tightening around him as she let out a strangled moan. Felix’s fingers flexed in her hair, his head dropping back for a moment, a breathless curse spilling from his lips.

She was so Helpless. Overwhelmed. So completely theirs.

And Felix had never fucking loved anything more.

Hyunjin met his gaze over her shoulder, his smirk all mischief.

“Wanna stretch her out more?”

Felix swore under his breath, his grip tightening.

Hyunjin smirked wider. Their hands met in a quick high-five, both of them already so fucking gone, before Felix pulled away, letting Y/N catch her breath.

But she didn’t want a break.

She whimpered at the loss, soaking the sheets beneath her, shifting, needy, desperate.

Hyunjin chuckled darkly.

“Oh, baby,” he murmured, rubbing slow, teasing circles against her overstimulated clit. “You still want more?”

Y/N could barely speak, barely think—all she could do was nod.

Felix exhaled hard, running a hand through his sweat-dampened hair. “She’s not done until we say she’s done.”

Hyunjin’s grip on her hips tightened. “Exactly.”

Felix moved her again, effortlessly flipping her onto her back, lifting her into his lap like she weighed nothing.

Her breath hitched, completely at his mercy.

“Hi, baby,” he whispered, his voice like velvet, fingers trailing down her spine, teasing, possessive.

She smiled, still breathless, her heart pounding in her chest. “Hi, sunshine.”

Felix tucked a damp strand of hair behind her ear, his eyes drinking in her flushed skin, her kiss-bruised lips, the dazed, blissed-out look in her gaze.

God, she was so fucking beautiful like this.

“Enjoying yourself?” he murmured, lips ghosting over her cheek, his voice a slow, delicious tease.

She nodded, a soft, desperate sound escaping her lips, her thighs squeezing around his hips.

Felix smirked.

“You know I always give you what you want,” he murmured, lining himself up with her, teasing the head of his cock against her soaked, aching entrance.

“Just ask for it. You know how much i love Spoiling you”

Felix pushed inside her, slow and deliberate, groaning at the way she squeezed around him, her nails digging into his shoulders.

Before she could even adjust—Hyunjin.

His hands found her waist, warm, firm, grounding.

His body pressed against her back, his breath hot against her ear, sending shivers down her spine.

“Breathe, baby,” Felix whispered, his lips brushing against her temple.

And then—

Hyunjin pushed in.

Right beside him.

The stretch was unreal.

Y/N’s head fell back, a strangled moan spilling from her lips as Hyunjin eased inside, the two of them filling her so completely she could barely breathe.

Felix let out a shaky exhale, his forehead dropping to her shoulder as Hyunjin groaned, gripping her hips tighter, his fingers leaving bruises.

The way her walls squeezed them both, the wet heat surrounding them, the perfect, sinful tightness—it was almost too much.

“How do you feel, baby?” Felix asked, voice gentle, breathless, wrecked.

“Is it okay?”

Behind her, Hyunjin pressed soft, teasing kisses along her jaw, his lips barely there, his hand slipping up to cradle her throat.

Her breath hitched, her body shivering, stretched so perfectly between them.

Felix’s fingers found her clit, circling slow, deliberate, coaxing, guiding her into pure, blissful surrender.

“It’s so good,” she whispered, voice trembling. So full. So overwhelmed. So desperate for more.

Hyunjin’s gaze met Felix’s over her shoulder.

Felix smirked.

Hyunjin mirrored it.

“You take two cocks so well,” Hyunjin murmured into her ear, voice smooth, thick with admiration and lust.

A shiver ran through her.

She arched back against him, pressing into the hard, muscled tones of his chest.

His arms tightened around her, securing her, owning her, holding her in place as they both pulsed deep inside her.

And then—his lips were on hers.

Plush. Warm. Needy.

A kiss that sent her spinning.

Felix took his time with her breasts, rolling her sensitive nipples between his fingers, his lips tracing over her throat, worshipping every inch of her.

They stayed buried inside her, letting her adjust.

But she was ready for more.

And they knew it.

When they started moving, Y/N swore she was on cloud nine.

The stretch—blissful torture.

A deep, delicious burn that made every thrust more intense, made her head spin, made her body tremble.

She was so fucking full.

Two thick, hard cocks, moving inside her, claiming her, fucking her open.

Hyunjin moaned, low, wrecked, ruined at the way she clenched around them.

Felix cursed under his breath, gripping her hips tighter, pulling her down onto them both, forcing her to take every inch.

The friction was filthy.

She could feel them, not just inside her but against each other, their cocks rubbing eachother, sending electric shocks of pleasure through all of them.

Hyunjin’s breath hitched, his hips stuttering slightly. “Fucking hell,” he groaned, voice thick with pleasure.

Y/N’s nails dug into one of their arms—she didn’t even know whose.

Felix’s voice was in her ear, soft, breathless, hypnotic.

“You’re doing so well, baby,” he murmured, his lips brushing against her skin. “Taking both of us like a perfect little slut.”

“God, you feel so fucking good.”

“So tight for us, princess. You’re dripping.”

And then, Felix grabbed Hyunjin by the back of the neck and pulled him in for a kiss over her shoulder. Messy, desperate. Tongues sliding together, Felix sucking on Hyunjin’s bottom lip like he was starved for it.

“The way your dick presses against mine is so fucking hot, Jinnie,” Felix groaned.

Hyunjin chuckled darkly, breathless. “Mhm… and this is the best pussy I’ve ever had. You’re a really good friend, Lix.”

Felix let out a breathless laugh—until Y/N shifted between them, so needy.

“Oh, look at her,” Felix cooed, a teasing edge to his voice. “We’re not giving her enough attention.”

“Sorry, princess,” Hyunjin smirked.

Their hips snapped forward in sync, harder, deeper, filling her over and over until she was nothing but moans and trembling limbs. Their hands and mouths were everywhere—hot lips dragging down her throat, rough palms gripping her hips, fingers digging into her soft flesh. Completely surrounded. Completely taken.

She came harder than she ever had before. A cry tearing from her throat, body shaking, completely undone.

The pleasure was so overwhelming that she barely registered the way Hyunjin and Felix groaned in sync, her orgasm clenching around them, drawing them deeper into her. They had to have been heard. The entire dorm probably knew what was happening by now, but none of them cared.

The men pulled out, leaving her trembling, her body still spasming from the aftershocks. Hyunjin laid her on her back gently, pressing soft kisses to her damp forehead before pushing back inside her, sliding in so easily through the mess they had made.

Felix followed, stretching her out all over again.

Their bodies moved in perfect rhythm, thrusting in tandem, driving her into another wave of overstimulation that had her eyes rolling back, her lips parted in helpless moans. It was too much, but it was perfect.

Her fucked-out state only made them more desperate—her messy hair, the deep red marks littering her soft skin, her parted lips glistening with drool. She looked ruined, and they were responsible.

And they wanted more.

When Y/N came again, they both lost it.

Hyunjin let out a deep, guttural groan, his body trembling, his grip on her tightening as if he was trying to hold himself together.

Felix bit his lip, his whole body shuddering, a choked, wrecked moan slipping from his throat.

But in the heat of the moment, their lips met again and somehow, both of them slipped out.

Y/N barely had time to process it before she saw the sight in front of her.

Felix and Hyunjin, lost in each other.

Hyunjin’s hands roamed greedily down Felix’s back, gripping his ass, squeezing, spreading him open, his fingers teasing the sensitive skin.

Felix gasped into Hyunjin’s mouth, his hips rolling forward, their leaking, rock-hard cocks rubbing together.

Y/N’s breath hitched.

Her pussy was still pulsing, loose and aching, but all she could do was watch, mesmerized, entranced, utterly ruined by the sight.

Hyunjin wasn’t gentle.

He grabbed Felix’s hips, pulling him closer, grinding against him, their cocks sliding against each other, throbbing, dripping, needy.

Felix moaned into his mouth, his fingers tangling in Hyunjin’s hair, tugging, making Hyunjin groan, making him push harder, rut against him like he needed to crawl inside him.

Felix’s hands slid lower, gripping Hyunjin’s ass in return, pulling him in, pressing their bodies together even tighter, until every inch of them was aligned, until they could feel each other’s heat, each other’s need.

Felix’s fingers trailed over Hyunjin’s nipples, teasing, pinching, making the other man gasp, his hips jerking involuntarily.

“F-Fuck,” Hyunjin stuttered, voice thick, needy, desperate.

Felix grinned, breathless, smug.

“You like that? Wanna fuck my ass someday too ?” he murmured, dragging his tongue along Hyunjin’s jaw, his throat, tasting the sweat on his skin.

Hyunjin just groaned a quiet yes, his fingers digging into Felix’s back, nails leaving faint red lines.

Y/N let out a soft, desperate moan.

This was the sexiest thing she had ever seen.

Felix and Hyunjin panting against each other’s mouths, rubbing against each other, fucking against each other, hands roaming, tongues tangled, grinding and moaning like they couldn’t get enough.

Hyunjin’s forehead dropped against Felix’s, his breath ragged, uneven.

“I’m so close,” he gasped, his voice breaking, wrecked.

Felix nodded quickly, his hips still rolling, chasing friction.

“Me too—fuck,” he choked out, his cock twitching against Hyunjin’s, so fucking close to falling apart.

And then, Y/N’s voice cut through the haze.

Hoarse, desperate, wrecked beyond belief.

“Inside me.”

Both of them froze.

Felix’s gaze snapped to hers.

Hyunjin’s fingers tightened on Felix’s skin.

They didn’t need to be told twice.

They turned their attention back to her, both pushing inside her at the same time, their cocks sliding in so easily, her pussy still greedy for more. The overstimulation made her whimper, and they groaned in sync, finally giving in.

Hyunjin shuddered, his breath hot against her skin, as he came deep inside her, Felix following moments after, moaning as he spilled into her alongside Hyunjin.

The thought of it—being so full, so completely claimed by them—made Y/N smile in satisfaction, her body utterly spent.

“Imagine if she gets knocked up by one of us,” Hyunjin murmured, still panting, his voice laced with laziness and amusement.

Y/N only hummed sleepily at the thought of their cum breeding her—not even knowing which one of them it would be.

With all of their energy drained, none of them moved. They simply stayed buried inside her, keeping her warm, adjusting so she lay comfortably between them. Their bodies pressed close, their arms wrapped around her protectively, sweat and heat mixing as they held each other.

Felix traced soft circles over Hyunjin’s arm, his other hand resting on Y/N’s stomach, possessively, tenderly.

“On a scale from one to ten, how happy are you right now?” Felix asked, his voice drowsy but warm.

Y/N barely had the strength to answer, but she smiled sleepily at Hyunjin before whispering, “Twenty.”

Hyunjin chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “You cute girl.”

But she was already asleep, safe and cherished in their arms.

───୨ৎ────────୨ৎ───────୨ৎ───

Part 2.

[mistyjessart]

The Odyssey Modern AU: Christmas edition

For your consideration: the Odyssey but as a Hallmark Christmas movie where Odysseus travels to New York for work and is trying to get home to Hawaii?? (I needed a long domestic flight shhhhh it was either this or Vancouver to Newfoundland) in time for Christmas dinner with Penelope and Telemachus after missing it for the last 20 years straight

The Trojan War is some really big business venture or something that took literally forever for them to sign but they finally did it!!

Polyphemus keeps them after work threatening to get HR involved because they accidentally ate his lunch that he left in the fridge, Polites and some of his other coworkers get stuck there but Ody and the rest manage to escape the office

Athena is Odysseus' boss (and childhood friend) who told him to get everything done more efficiently so he could leave earlier but noooooo he didn't listen and guess who's cutting it close again

The wind bag: Aeolus (from another department, maybe distribution??) sends them home with snacks that they forget to declare and Poseidon the airport security guard sees them after Eurylochus opens the bag in the waiting area and pulls them into the security room until they miss their flight

Circe owns a local motel and wanted to kick them out because she doesn't trust so many dudes around her employees after past incidents, but her and Athena's mutual friend Hermes gives Odysseus some of her favourite tea as a peace offering and he tells her about his wife and kid and she's just like "fineeeeee okay you're a wife guy, I guess I can find you a room"

She calls them a taxi to the airport the next day and the driver Tiresias just keeps giving them ominous life advice and seems to know like... way too much about them and also they're not entirely sure he actually has his license

Odysseus gets a call from his mom like "where are you we're waiting for you" and he's like "I'm on my way home I promiseeeeeeeeee I'll be there this time"

The sirens are various sales reps at the airport

Scylla (baggage check employee) keeps some of them cuz their bags are too heavy so Ody and the rest head to the gate without them

Eurylochus brings snacks again (thinking Chicharron-style snacks, ones you're not supposed to bring on a plane) and Zeus detains them

The suitors are just the neighbourhours who bully Telemachus like "oooOOOOhhhhh ssuuuUUURrreee your dad is tOOOOtally gonna show up to Christmas this year" and making jokes about his mom

Athena (who did leave early and catch the original flight) scares them away and reassures Telemachus that his dad is on his way (while texting Odysseus "see I told you so")

She finds out Zeus is the one detaining them so she calls her dad like "please can you at least send Odysseus on his way, you literally know him, he's just a dumbass sometimes" so Zeus let's Odysseus go catch his flight but keeps the rest of them in security

Calypso is some lady he's seated next to on the plane who hits on him for the entire ten-hour flight

Poseidon, who got transferred to the other airport, recognizes Odysseus from before and pulls him into security again and Odysseus just rips into him until he lets him go

The neighbours are bullying Telemachus while he's out getting last-minute ingredients for dinner when some dude turns up and tells them off and threatens to get their parents so they all run off

Penelope's just like... "who are you and what have you done with my husband, how are you actually on time"

Insert sweet and sappy Christmas dinner with the entire family until Odysseus' sister goes "wait... where's Eurylochus?"

Eurylochus turns up at the door the next morning like "ODYSSEUS YOU MF I HAD TO CATCH ANOTHER FLIGHT-"

[tangerineastronaut]

heavy ♥ s.mingi

You're so very sorry.

Pairing: Mingi x Fem!Reader Genre: smut. just pure smut. slight fluff at the end, 99% smut. Requested: No w.c. 3.9k Warnings: Everything is consensual - rough sex, dirty talk and more dirty talk, choking/breathplay, deep throating, name calling, degradation, slight talk of somno, Mingi seems like an asshole, sort of noncon but not really, breeding kink, unprotected sex, creampie, size kink, reader doesn't talk much during, established relationship If you notice other potentially triggering content please let me know so I can add it. A/N: I...I have no excuses. Requests: Open (link below)

Requests | WIPs Masterlists: BTS | ATEEZ | GOT7 | Stray Kids

“Mingi, I-I‘m sorry—”

“You fucking will be.”

You struggled with the key to unlock the door; he was bearing down on you, already grinding against your ass, but that was your fault, wasn’t it?

You thought it’d be cute to tease him—

> Might’ve forgotten my panties…wish you were inside me.

—but the look he’d given you after opening his phone…the way his jaw ticked, how he’d tugged at the crotch of his jeans. You knew you’d fucked up. 

Finally, it opened, though you almost wished it hadn’t. Mingi grabbed your arm and slammed the door, throwing you against it. 

“Wanna say it again?” he asks, one hand moving to your throat. He towers over you, plump lips forming a half snarl. Fuck, you wanted to kiss him. You whimper, the sound dying into a squeak as he puts pressure on your trachea with his thumb. “Say it. I love when you do. It’s easier to fuck that pretty face when I’m mad at it.”

“I-I…” you begin with a choked sob. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I—”

Mingi curses, shoving you to your knees with his heavy grip. When he took his hand off your throat, you began taking deep breaths—it’d be a while before you weren’t gasping for air anymore. You glance up. 

His dark eyes were half lidded, never leaving you as he worked at his jeans. You swallowed, an instinctual response to the sound of the button popping and zipper going down. 

“Open that slutty fucking mouth, baby. Wanna see you drool,” he orders. You open your mouth and keep it open. It’s like muscle memory; you can already taste him. 

Mingi pushes the material down his thighs, stopping half way. His spandex boxers go next, the snap of elastic making you jump. When his cock is freed, it springs into your face, already swollen and ready to be sucked and fucked. 

That was your fault. 

“Don’t look so fucking surprised, y/n,” Mingi says, one large hand fisting your hair and the other gripping his cock. “Wanna send me filthy texts during dinner? Hm? Tell me you’re not wearing panties? Did you think I wouldn’t make you choke on this fucking dick?”

You whimper, feeling drool beginning to leak down your chin. Mingi smirks, rubbing the thick head into your spit.

“Say it, baby. Say it again.”

You sniffle, eyes burning. Mingi is unrelenting, gently bumping your head back against the door. 

“Say it for me, princess. Love that pretty mouth,” he coos in a deceptively smooth tone. You knew better; he was baiting you. You were nothing more than prey to him right now. “Please? One more time for me, be good just this fucking once.”

“I’m sor—”

The minute you try to speak, Mingi forces his cock inside. His hips thrust forward, pinning you against the door and stretching your lips open. He wants to fit it all in one go, to push the head into the back of your throat. When you gag, he grins. 

Your hands go to his hips, shoving, as if that’d do anything. He moved his hand to get a better grip on your hair, tilting your head back. 

“Mmn…hold still, pretty. Gonna use that mouth,” he growls. You dig your nails into his thighs, making him hiss, but that doesn’t stop him from beginning to fuck. In and out, in and out, his cock stretches your throat, giving you seconds to breathe between thrusts. 

Mingi fucks your face until your gagging becomes more violent, pulling out in time to watch you cough and drool on yourself. He still had a tight grip on your hair, and the other went to his cock, now slick with your saliva. 

“What’s wrong, baby?” he hums, stroking himself. It’s somehow menacing, the way his thumb rubs over the head. A threat. “You look scared.”

“I won’t do it again,” you whine softly, swallowing down a mix of spit and precum. “P-Promise.”

Mingi stares down at you until you squirm. He suddenly kneels down and you flinch, though he yanks you forward by your hair. 

“Tell me to stop,” he murmurs, kissing the wet corner of your mouth. “You have ten different ways, baby. Half of them don’t need words. Tell me to stop treating you like a whore.”

Fuck. 

You swallow, nails digging into your palms. Your cheeks flush red from shame and Mingi chuckles. He knew you wouldn't, that you know the signals, the ones you'd agreed on when someone decided it was too much, words and taps and gestures.

He was rubbing it in your face—just how much of a fuckdoll you turned into for him.

“No? Don’t tell me you like being treated like this,” he taunts you, a look of faux concern on his gorgeous face. “Nothing but a pretty collection of warm holes for me to choose from. I’ve got plans for you and this cock, baby. Gonna make you suck it some more, then it’s gonna go in that needy little hole between your legs. It’s not coming out of there until you’ve taken every drop of cum from me. Tell me not to do it, baby.”

When you don’t answer, refusing to look at him, Mingi yanks your face toward him with your hair. He forces his mouth over yours, groaning into you as his tongue slips inside. You feel hot tears rolling down your cheeks as he takes from you, rubbing his cock against your exposed thigh beneath your dress. He sucks and licks and nips the soft flesh of your mouth and tongue, holding you open by the jaw.

Mingi sucks your lower lip and bites it, making you squeak. He laughs and finally releases you, only for you to fall back against the door. 

Strings of drool stretch between you, and you shudder when he licks his lips. But the sensuality is dampened as he stands to his full height, gripping his fat cock and staring down at you. 

“Open wide, babygirl. That’s it…fuck yes. Stop moving, baby. Just take it. If I feel teeth, 'm gonna make it hurt, yeah?"

Your throat is numb. 

Your jaw aches, your fingers are curled into the carpet, but your eyes haven’t left him. He’s standing over you as he’s been doing for the past half hour, though now both of his hands hold your head in place for him. They’re so fucking big, gripping tight as he uses your mouth like a fleshlight. When you’re lucky, you see him bite his lip and whisper that he loves you; otherwise he’s got his head tilted back, chest heaving as he fucks into your mouth. 

“That’s it, so fucking dirty,” Mingi groans, hissing as your teeth catch on his massive cock. “I should make you choke on my cum, baby. Should hold that pretty head down until I pump it right down your throat. Feed you like a fucking whore.”

Your dress is soaked in spit and precum, as it’s been dripping down your chin. You consider pulling it off, but you don’t want to expedite his plans for you. So you sit there in your ruined dress, letting the love of your life abuse your throat over and over. 

Mingi looks down at you, thumb brushing over your lips where they’re stretched open, forced by his cock. He bites his lip, cursing under his breath. 

“Say it again, baby.”

“Nnh…” you choke around him. He licks his lips and nods, so you do your best to please him. “Nnhn…nnh…”

Your eyes are wet with tears; drool leaks out around his cock, and you helplessly swallow as you try to speak with the obstruction in your mouth. Mingi watches as though enthralled, nodding the more you choke on words.

“Nnh…”

You finally give up when you splutter with a sob. 

Mingi pauses and growls. He throws an arm against the door, taking the other hand off your face as he pulls out. You quickly gasp for air before he begins thrusting again. 

Without his hands keeping you steady, your head hits against the door repeatedly. Mingi slides his hand behind your head, fisting your hair once again, then leans forward until there’s no space left between him, you, and the surface behind you. Each thrust is less than a few centimeters as he grinds against your esophagus. You weakly cry until he decides he’s had enough, stuffing himself down your throat for a few seconds before yanking it out. You gasp and fall onto your hands and knees, heaving for air. 

Your throat feels raw, your cheeks are wet, your knees ache from sitting on them for so long, but Mingi pulls at you as though impatient. 

You expect him to carry you to the bedroom, probably throw you on the bed, but while you catch your breath you feel his hand on the back of your head. 

“M-Ming—”

“Stick that fucking ass up,” he grunts, shoving your face into the carpet. Your cries are muffled against the plush surface as he holds your head down. 

Where you expect to feel his cock, you instead feel his tongue lick between your sticky cunt lips. You jolt, only for him to chuckle. He says nothing else before burying his face in your pussy. 

You release a loud cry, your hips wriggling from the sensitivity as he sucks your clit into his mouth without waiting. You whine and gasp, fisting the carpet as you moan against it. 

Mingi lets go of your hair only to hug your ass against his face. He sucks and licks, mouthing at your labia and lapping at your slit like candy. He groans and rubs his face between your legs, plush lips feeling like heaven as he french kisses your cunt. 

When he suckles your clit again, you squeak, mouth falling open. He groans and teases the bundle of his nerves in his warm mouth, tongue sliding below the hood until you’re twitching from the overstimulation. He releases it only to lick up and down your vulva repeatedly, as though savoring a popsicle.

“Say something, baby. Tell me how it feels,” he says, slurping and smacking his lips. He moans before diving in again, throat working as he swallows your sweet juices. You shudder, licking your lips from where your front half is flopped against the carpet. 

“Mm. G-good,” you mumble. Mingi smacks your ass so hard you cry out. 

“Fuck, that’s right. Such a juicy cunt,” he murmurs, hands moving to your thighs. He grabs your ass and uses his thumbs to pull apart your pussy. You hear him suck a finger into his mouth before it prods at your hole, making you clench around nothing. 

“Don’t pretend like I haven’t seen this pussy swallow all eight inches of me, baby. Gonna fuck up this little hole until you can’t sit right.”

You whine and jump when he begins sliding his index finger inside, long and firm, though not enough. Your pussy flutters and Mingi moans, thrusting his cock against your thigh. 

“Got me rutting like a fucking dog after a bitch in heat,” he growls, roughly smacking your ass. “Put those legs together. Gonna use all of you.”

You do as he asks, a little dizzy as you shuffle to close your legs, ass still in the air. His finger begins steadily pumping into you, though you feel something slick and hard wedging itself between your thighs. 

“Mmn…fuck, love your thick fucking thighs baby, takes my cock almost as good as your filthy little cunt,” Mingi groans, hooking the finger inside you. You yelp, and he does it again, and again, roughly poking the inner bundle of nerves. Each time you move, you grind on his cock, your thighs giving him a tight squeeze to fuck into. 

You begin pushing back on his finger, so he adds another. The stretch is good, but nothing like what he’ll feel like when he’s inside you. 

“Look at you,” he groans, watching as you try to fuck yourself on his fingers. He squeezes in a third and you moan, ass lazily bouncing against his knuckles. “My nasty little girl. Always wants to act so sweet, you just want me to climb on top and pick a hole to use, right?”

“Mmnn…” you mumble, feeling the pad of his finger stroke your inner walls. You were getting desperate, and you hated that. Desperate you is exactly why Mingi gets like this—he knows you. 

“I love playing with this one, like how you scream and beg me to put something in that needy cunt at the same time,” he hums. His thumb rubs over your asshole, and you feel the tight ring of muscle respond to his touch. He chuckles quietly, leaning over you, fingers still fucking into you. “I think I’m gonna use my pretty girl’s pussy. See how she takes it when I fuck her like the horny bitch she is.”

“Mingi,” you whine, currently the only word in your sex-dumb vocabulary. He sighs, pulling his fingers out. You shiver at the cold emptiness, but then your boyfriend is suddenly getting ready to fuck you on the floor of your entryway.

“Bedroom?” you manage to ask, but a firm hand on the back of your neck silences you by smothering your face into the carpet.

“You think you deserve a soft bed right now?” Mingi asks darkly. You hear shuffling; he slips off his jeans and tosses them to the side. When you try to look back at him where he’s unbuttoning his shirt, he smacks your ass, nearly sending you rolling to your side. 

“The bed is where I fuck my good girl,” he says, pulling you back against his hips. He nudges his cock between your thighs again, thrusting once, hard, and you feel the tip of his cock poking your lower belly. “You’re my bad girl, my little whore who’s desperate for this cock. You’re gonna get fucked right here in the floor.”

You moan softly, and Mingi peels you open again. He squeezes the flesh of your ass, toying with the way your pussy lips stretch open. 

“So fucking wet, look how sloppy you are, baby. Your needy little cunt wants it,” he hums. Mingi flicks your clit, making you shudder violently; he moans in approval before sucking his fingers into his mouth. 

He apparently can’t wait any longer, as he begins to mount you, pulling you beneath him with large hands gripping your waist. You try to lift your upper half, though he shoves you down again. 

“Keep your fucking head down,” he growls, licking his palm and roughly jerking his cock a few times. “Don’t worry about this little cunt, baby. Just focus on staying conscious, yeah? Hate it when I have to hold you up.”

You whimper and wiggle your ass, earning another slap, though it’s not as hard as the last few. This is for a good reason, as he’s tugging you back to him. 

Mingi uses one hand to grip your ass cheek, opening you up to him. He groans, gripping his cock and rubbing it up and down your lips, following the path of his tongue minutes ago. He uses two fingers to hold you open, revealing your hole—he slots his cock against it and begins to push.

You moan and arch your back, gritting your teeth at the sensation of being opened. Mingi’s cock is so fucking thick, it stretches you open deliciously. You can feel every vein, every dip in the swollen member as it slides inside of you, inch by inch. No part of your insides are left untouched. 

You wince when the head nudges your cervix, though Mingi only laughs. 

“You’re not done yet, baby. Open up that cunt for me,” he growls, thrusting once. You whimper as you’re thrown forward. 

“H-Hurts,” you mumble, reaching back to push at his waist. Mingi grabs your arm and twists it around your back, putting pressure on you as he works himself deeper. 

“I know it can fit,” he says, pushing harder. “I’ve been balls to pussy inside of you and had you begging for more. Now let me in before I make it fit. You don’t like it when I do that, remember?”

You shudder at the memories of being pinned down, Mingi’s fingers keeping your hole stretched as he wedges his cock inside, all the while telling you it’s gonna look so pretty, you being wrapped around him.

He was wrong. You loved that. 

He begins rutting against you, ignoring your whines of pain as his cock somehow manages to slip further inside. It takes one last thrust before he breaks you open, and his balls are pressed tightly to your clit. You moan, able to feel him deep inside you. 

“Fuuuuck,” Mingi groans, and you remember why you’re so willing to be used by him—that sound, the sound of him being buried inside his girl, caught between wanting to love her sweetly and fuck her like a whore. 

“Feel it?” he asks, grabbing your hips and leaning over you. “Feel it inside, baby? Gonna split you open on this fucking cock.”

“I-I said I was sorry,” you whine. Mingi smacks your ass, this time grabbing the plump flesh and squeezing. 

“You’re not sorry,” he chuckles, adjusting himself on his knees. “Not one fucking bit, y/n. You can fool every other bastard you’ve ever been with, but I know you, baby. I love you. That’s why I’m gonna fuck you up.”

Mingi saws into you relentlessly. 

Your upper half is pinned to the floor as he drags you onto his cock like a broken doll. He leans over you, using his weight on your body as he grabs both of your arms, pinning them to the floor. 

“So fucking gorgeous,” he whispers, hips working steadily to penetrate you. “You like to look dumb, baby. Like people to think you’re so fucking helpless. If someone saw this, saw what I’m doing to you…fuck, I’d be crucified. They’d say I’m taking advantage of a sweet girl, using her to feel good, like a pretty little cocksleeve.”

Mingi leans down, biting your shoulder until you yelp. His lips go to your ear as he grinds against your ass, his cock painfully knocking at your cervix. 

“Little do they know, huh? I’d have to beg you to stop instead, beg you to let me pull out of this sopping pussy before you milk me for my fucking cum.”

You moan softly, and Mingi fists your hair. He painfully yanks you off the floor, bending you at an odd angle to lean over and kiss you. It’s wet and desperate, more tongue than lips on both ends, but he doesn’t pull away. He leaves his mouth against yours and fucks you harder, deeper, free hand gripping your waist and nailing you to the floor. 

“Can I, baby?” he groans. “Can I pull out? ‘m gonna pull out unless you beg. Beg me to stay inside this little pussy and make it hurt, let me pump my cum so deep it makes you nervous.”

You whine at his words, unwilling to say much thanks to your pride. But then you feel him begin to slip out, throwing a hand back to grab his hip. Mingi laughs until you dig your nails into his ass, throwing yourself back against him until he fucking whimpers. 

“Jesus fuck—”

“Don’t stop,” you plead breathlessly. “P-please, Mingi…keep going. Want you so bad.”

Mingi curses, using his knee to kick yours apart. You lose your balance and fall flat on the floor, though he curls an arm around your hips to keep you propped for him. 

“Yeah?” he asks, nosing the back of your neck. “Want it that bad? Need me to keep stuffing that needy little cunt?”

“Yes,” you moan shamelessly. Mingi lies on your back, now pressing all of his weight on top of you. It’s hard to breathe, though you can tell he’s close. 

“What if I fuck my load in your pretty pussy? Hm? Might put a baby or two in there,” he groans. You squeak and tilt your head back, surprised to find him right there. Your head rests against his shoulder and you bury your face against his throat. 

“D-Don’t care,” you mumble. “Want it. Want you.”

“I’m gonna go deep, babygirl. Gonna make sure your slutty little body can’t stop it.”

“Yes, fuck, y-yes, Mingi…” you whimper. He curses, his chest against your back. 

“G-Gonna cum, baby. Gonna put one inside you,” Mingi gasps. “You gonna take it? Make me pretty babies?”

You don’t have a chance to answer, as he suddenly groans, gripping your thighs and forcing them apart beneath him. He clumsily thrusts until he manages to snugly fit himself inside your body, head dropping against yours as he begins to cum. You feel his fat cock pulsing, pumping his sperm into you, raising a hand to his cheek. 

Mingi tilts his head and kisses you, the softest kiss all night. His plump lips are gentle against yours, and you forget for a few moments that you’re pinned down in an awkward position with his cock stuffed in you. 

A large hand slides beneath your bodies; before you can ask, Mingi’s thumb and index finger find your clit. He gently pinches, rolling the sensitive bud. 

“F-Fuck, Mingi—”

“Want you to cum. Want that cunt to squeeze my cock ‘till there’s nothing left,” he groans against your ear. You moan as he rubs at your clit, though it’s not until he begins gently thrusting again that you feel yourself coming undone. 

The minute your orgasm hits, it draws a sinful moan from Mingi as your muscles squeeze and work at his cock. You feel him try to pull out with a hiss of pain, though he’s unable to, forced to endure his sensitive cock being milked.

Serves him right, you think, wearily collapsing onto the floor. Mingi follows with a groan until you squirm, reminding him that he’s not a lapdog. 

For a few minutes, the apartment is quiet aside from the heavy breathing. Mingi finally pushes himself up, nearly falling again on unsteady arms. He grabs your waist with one hand and the base of his cock with the other, gently easing out of your sore cunt. You still wince, though it’s not too bad, but he mumbles an apology anyway. He keeps his hands on your ass once he’s successfully pulled out and gently squeezes.

“Shit,” Mingi breathes. You ‘hmm’ curiously, unwilling to lift your head, but he crawls above you to lean down and kiss your cheek. “Nothing. Just like watching my cum drip out like that.”

“Gross.” You crinkle your nose. 

“You okay?”

You glance up at Mingi, resisting the urge to smile. Only this boy could pin you to the floor one moment, and then look lost the next, like he’s not sure if he’s hurt you or not. The other Mingi wouldn’t care, the one who threatens to choke you and calls you a slut, that one was fun. But this one was yours, you loved this one.

“I think I’ve got carpet burn—”

��Me too,” he mumbles, looking at the redness on his forearms. 

“—but I’m okay.”

“Good,” he says with a sigh. He kisses your cheek until you turn your head, letting him kiss you properly. He's careful, soft lips molding against yours and looking at you in between kisses to make sure you’re satisfied. 

“I really am sorry,” you mumble against his lips. He hums softly, still kissing you. “For sending that text. I…I don’t know why I did that.”

“Please. Do not ever stop doing that,” he laughs, pinching your cheek. “That was hot as fuck.”

“Then why did you—did you have to throw me against the damn door?!” you huff, pulling back. Mingi sheepishly smiles, nosing at your cheek. You roll your eyes. 

“You liked it,” he sings. You pout. 

You liked it. 

[kitkatscabinet]

BROTHERS BEST FRIEND

Pairings: Wally West, Roy Harper, Conner Kent, Clark Kent x fem reader. Platonic batfamily x sister reader.

Summary: Your brother finds out you’re dating his best friend. It goes about as well as you’d think.

A/N: Nsfw themes 18+, minors dni

WALLY WEST & DICK GRAYSON

"Can't wait to see you later baby <3"

Dick stares at the text from Wally, a frown on his face as he tries to recall if they'd made any plans. Though baby was definitely an odd new term of endearment from his best friend. After spending a few minutes wracking his mind and deciding he hadn't forgotten any important plans, he replies:

"What are we doing later?"

He sees the dots indicating Wally's typing

"Why would you assume that was for you?!"

Dick's frown deepened, if that wasn't for him, then who was monopolising his friend's time? More importantly, who was he calling baby?

“Who’s it for then? :((" He conveniently gets left on read.

"Wally!"

"WALLACE RUDOLPH WEST!!"

His messages turn green. That annoying little fuck! Did Wally just block him? Oh, this was so far from over.

If Wally thought Dick was going to just let this go then he was sorely mistaken.

Dick was a man on a mission, determined to catch Wally with his new partner. Only, the redhead suddenly seemed to be a master at avoiding him. It was driving him insane, but Dick was a dog with a bone and this was the one thing he was never going to let go.

He's so focused on his hunt for the perp, that he doesn't notice the clues right in front of his face. The way you seemed so amused whenever he whined or ranted to you or the way you reached for your phone to send Wally a heads-up text. Or the second toothbrush in your bathroom or the men's hoodie slung over the back of your desk chair.

You were starting to feel a little bad, and you'd finally convinced Wally to let Dick in on your secret when the beans get accidentally spilled, in the Titans group chat of all things.

You were texting Wally privately, looking away from your phone the exact second you accidentally clicked on the notification taking you to a different chat, not noticing until it was far too late.

TheSexiestBat: I love you, idiot. Even if you leave dirty dishes in the sink like a war criminal <3.

SpeedyGonzalez: and I love YOU even if you steal the blanket every night 😘

WingDing: BLANKET. EVERY. NIGHT?

LeanMeanGreenMachine: They sleep together. They sleep. Together. They’re sleeping. TOGETHER.

That'sSoRaven: It’s like watching a car crash in slow motion. Except I live in the car and the driver is texting.

Pwincess: Shall we begin making couple name suggestions now?? WalliBat? BatAlly? SpeedWayne?

SpeedyGonzalez: SpeedWayne kinda goes hard not gonna lie

TheSexiestBat: oh god oh GOD wrong chat WRONG CHATTTTT

WingDing: WALLY.

SpeedyGonzalez: it was gonna be a soft launch 😭

LeanMeanGreenMachine: BRO WE JUST GOT HARD LAUNCHED INTO ORBIT

SpeedyGonzalez: So like are we officially telling everyone now? Should I change my bio to “taken by the most gorgeous woman on the planet?"

WingDing: BLOCKED REPORTED BANNED EXCOMMUNICATED FROM THE GROUP LEAVE THE TITANS AND THE PLANET

TheSexiestBat: I'm erasing myself from the narrative :D

TheSexiestBat has left the chat.

SpeedyGonzalez: in my defense your sister is hot and emotionally stable and laughs at my jokes. She's literally the perfect woman.

WingDing: Count ur days West.

That'sSoRaven: I call dibs on the funeral playlist I’m thinking something upbeat. “Dumb Ways to Die” maybe?

Dick screams so loud his neighbours call the cops, fearing he'd been murdered.

Meanwhile you and Wally decide it might be time to give up texting.

ROY HARPER & JASON TODD

It’s been a long night. He’s tired, cranky and covered in mud and blood. He also might be nursing a concussion. Whatever the case, he was ready to crash and Roy’s place was closer than any of his.

He stumbles through the window with a thud, uncaring of the noise he's making. Roy's always been a heavy sleeper. Still, it's a bit disconcerting when he doesn't come to investigate the noise.

Ok, that was a little concerning; what kind of vigilante slept through a potential break-in?

He's just checking his friend's not bleeding out or dead, is what Jason tells himself as he throws back the covers on Roy's bed. Flicking the lights on with an amused laugh that quickly turns into a horrified scream at the sight of his friend, naked, an arm wrapped around his chest from behind.

"Dude, what the fuck?” You croaked, lifting your face from Roy’s back to blink blearily at whoever had interrupted your sleep. Jason's scream turning into a stream of scandalised expletives at the sight of your face.

"Seriously?! MY SISTER, ROY? MY ACTUAL SISTER?!"

"Jason, I swear to god, you better—" you grumbled, still half asleep as you tried to hide your face against the back of your barely conscious boyfriend.

"I better what? Calm down? Don't you dare tell me to CALM DOWN. My SISTER! MY SISTER and my BEST FRIEND!" He shrieks, tugging at his hair as he paced restlessly. Suddenly, he whirled on Roy, grabbing the man's shoulders. "How could you do this to me?"

"You’re talking like I’m the one who got into her bed. She climbed in here herself, dude." Roy mumbled, still sleep-laden and beyond over the situation already.

"You—YOU—climbed into his bed?!"

"I mean yeah? This is Roy's apartment." You whined, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, ignoring his unintelligible stutters.

"Quit clutching your pearls Jay, we're both adults." The scandalised gasp he lets out, hand clutching his chest is one you'd remember forever.

You finally sit up, making him screech and cover his eyes, blindly trying to throw his jacket at you. "Cover them up, you slut!"

"I dunno, Roy likes when my tits are out. Don't you honey?" You mock, relishing in the way Jason's ears turn bright red behind his hand.

Roy hums in agreement before remembering exactly who was standing before him. Your very overprotective brother, who had some very real guns.

"You know, Jase, you’re acting like I’m a bad influence on your sister, but" he turns to look at you, making you melt a little "—who could resist? She’s a catch, man."

"Did you just flirt with my sister in front of me?!" He takes his hand away from his eyes only to nearly run into the doorframe when he realises you're still naked.

"Jason give it a rest." You snickered, finally pulling on the jacket he'd thrown at you, your brother turning around at the sound of the zipper. "Besides. I've known him for longer than you."

Jason sputtered, arms crossed over his chest in extreme offence. "Well, I know him better!"

You let out a screech of outrage, smacking Roy's chest. "Baby! Tell him he's wrong!"

Roy simply turned and buried his face in his pillow, wondering if it was too late to break up with both of you.

CONNER KENT & TIM DRAKE

It wasn't exactly out of the norm for Tim to call you down to the Batcave, he often did so when he was having trouble with a case. But there was something different about the text he'd sent you. It was short and sharp, with perfect grammar and spelling, and most telling, no emojis. Yeah, something was definitely wrong.

The sight of your very much still secret boyfriend standing behind Tim with his arms crossed is enough for your stomach to sink. Luckily, years of exposure to your family's bullshit had let you perfect the art of the poker face.

"Kon? What are you doing here?" You try to remain calm; Kon visits Tim all the time; they're best friends. Yet you can't shake the sinking suspicion that starts to settle in your gut. Just as your boyfriend's about to answer, Tim swivels in the large chair facing the bat computer like a cliche supervillain.

"Now that we're all here, we can begin."

You almost don't want to ask, "begin what?"

Tim's fingers are interlaced in front of his stone-cold expression as the monitor whirs to life, showcasing a PowerPoint slide titled 'Evidence'.

"Evidence of what?" You sigh.

"Of you two dating."

"Tim," you sigh in exasperation, "you're being ridiculous."

Conner, however, is as convincing in his denial as a little girl with lipstick all over her face, swearing she didn't touch Mum's makeup.

"So we're doing this the hard way. Are you ready?"

"Tim, we really don't need - "

"Yes." You throw an incredulous look Conner's way.

"What?" He shrugs, "Kind of seems like he put a lot of effort into this."

"I did." Tim confirms.

"Oh for fuck's sake, fine, Kon and I are dating." You exclaim, throwing your arms up in exasperation.

"Thank you for your honesty, we can skip ahead a few slides." Tim nods serenely, flicking through an absurd amount of slides until he stops on.

"What this means & the consequences"

“Breakup = emotional devastation = forced to choose = loss of sibling"

“They work out = I have to hear them be gross for eternity???”

“Bruce finds out = He kills Kon = I lose my best friend.

"Hold on, you'd choose Conner over me if we broke up?" You squawk in offence.

"Obviously. No offence, babe, but we are best friends." Conner grins and you turn your mutinous glare on him.

"You're sleeping on the couch for a week." You hiss, watching in satisfaction as his grin evaporates.

"Wait, you're sleeping together?!" Tim shrieks, reaching for a suspicious batarang.

"On second thought I'm on your side!" Conner laughs nervously.

"No offence, babe, but you made your choice." You smile unnervingly widely before turning and leaving him to deal with Tim's meltdown.

CLARK KENT & BRUCE WAYNE

Bruce had given a lot of thought to how he'd die over the years, how couldn't he with the life he led? Of all the possibilities he'd imagined, choking on the tea Alfred had prepared him from the image plastered across his morning newspaper.

The picture. The picture of you. His beloved sister. You and Clark Kent. His best friend. Kissing. That picture.

"Wayne Princess spotted with new beau?" The newspaper he holds in his hands stares up at him mockingly until he accidentally rips the offending paper in half.

Plans for the day-long forgotten, Bruce hunkers down at his computer, obsessively scrolling through gossip columns, collecting information. The headlines were nearly endless: “Wayne Royalty Meets Smallville Simplicity", “Billionaire Bloodline and the Boy Next Door?", He Stole Her From Us! Gotham Mourns as Beloved Socialite Taken Off the Market.”

“BREAKING: Gotham’s IT Girl is Dating… WHO???”

The Wayne Princess: You know her, you love her, women want to be her, everyone wants to be with her — was spotted yesterday cosying up to a mystery man. It turns out, that man is Clark Kent, a journalist at the Daily Planet. Yes, a journalist. With GLASSES. Not a billionaire, not a pop star, not even an actor. Just... Clark. Look, we’re not here to judge true love or whatever, but Gotham is reeling. Our queen, our light, our socialite supreme… has chosen a man who probably thinks khakis and cardigans are acceptable date attire. The internet is in mourning. Group chats are in shambles. Thirst edits are being watched through mournful tears. Meanwhile, Clark Kent? Unbothered. Thriving. Possibly winning the “man most likely to be assassinated by bitter Gothamites" award.

All the while, he's sending countless texts and voicemails to his currently wayward sister. You'd always answered him immediately, even when you were busy; yeah he smelled a conspiracy.

Guess it was time to pull out the big guns, his kids, you never could ignore them. He calls Tim and Damian into his office, trying not to feel a little unnerved when the oldest announces that you're in Metropolis with no prompting.

"I figured you'd seen the news." The teen shrugged, answering the silent question in Bruce's eyes.

"What news?" Damian scowls, looking between his father and brother in suspicion. The kid was a Wayne alright.

"Auntie's dating Superman." Tim yawns.

"Father, I require some Kryptonite... for completely unrelated reasons," Damian says so unconvincingly that any other day Bruce might have been amused. Now though, he considered it for a few seconds.

"Ooookay, I'm going to take this one to school now." Tim chuckles awkwardly, grabbing Damian by the shoulders and hauling him out of Bruce's office before the two could plan to murder one of the greatest heroes on Earth.

(Though not before he drops your exact location for his adoptive father, he wasn't that magnanimous.)

Bruce strikes when you're in the shower, waiting until he hears the water start to run before he steps out of the shadows.

"What are your intentions with my sister?"

"Jesus Christ! Bruce!" Clark practically screamed, pulling the sheets up to cover his chest like a blushing maiden.

"Answer the question, Clark." He reiterates.

"Bruce, seriously," Clark tries to placate, only to pause at the deadly look on his friend's face. "I love her."

The earnest sincerity in Clark's gaze knocks the wind right out of his sails.

"Listen to me, Bruce, I love her, I'd protect her with my life. You have to know that." The dopey, lovesick grin that grows on his face is disgustingly sweet. "I'd marry her if she let me."

"Really?" Your breathless voice cuts in. Bruce's eyes narrowed; you tended to take long showers; there was no way you'd finished already. Unless, you intended to set him up.

Unwilling to stay and witness the inevitable sap fest, Bruce turns to you for confirmation.

"Is he good to you?" You nod and something in him softens just a little. "Then I trust you. Both of you." He pauses, barriers going back up when he notices the way you relax into Clark's welcoming embrace. "But if he breaks your heart, I will break his kneecaps"

[a-b-riddle]

Part Five

Can't stop thinking about the attempt of reconciliation and reader ain't having it. Our girl is going to be wilddddd y'all. Also goodnight. See y'all tomorrow (maybe)

You call Meredith when you get home.

You. Are. Fuming. She's not sure she can ever remember a time you using so many swear words at one time.

How fucking dare them? Immature? You're the immature one? You were the one trying your best to salvage four failing relationship meanwhile none of those assholes could be bothered to try and keep one. They had one person to manage: you.

"I wanna go out this weekend." "Wear something tight and borderline risk indecent exposure."

"You know what I always say," Meredith begins. "The best way to get over someone-"

"is to get under someone else." You finish. You weren't exactly keen on the idea of bringing someone to your bed just yet, but a little attention would do you some good. "I don't want to fuck someone just yet." You admitted. "I'm more on the getting drunk and making out."

"I didn't know we resorted back secondary school heavy petting?" She teased.

"University, Dear." You corrected. "I didn't peak until after I graduated."

"No." She argued. "You didn't put your books down long enough to realize that boys actually wanted to fuck you." You were glad she couldn't see you roll your eyes. "Saturday work for you? I have a late night Friday and won't be up for it."

"That works."

"Sorry." She apologized. "I plan on getting you absolutely smashed so I need to be ready to play the nanny. I know how you love to get drunk and run off."

It was true. You had always found it hilarious when you were drunk to just run. Quite literally run away. It got to a point during university where Meredith would handcuff you to her so you didn't stray.

"I won't run." Your sober mind promised.

"Uh huh." Meredith's tone told you that she knew that was a load of shit. "I'll text Tabs. Let her know the plan."

The next day at the shop was pretty uneventful. No more unexpected visitors. You still had them all blocked. Not caring if now they decided to offer up some bullshit apology.

Months. This had been a steady decline for six months. A text or a simply sorry won't fix this. You weren't sure anything could.

But it didn't matter. You were done and they obviously were too.

You had picked up enough take out to feed a family, but you didn't plan on making your lunch before work or cooking when you got home. The rest of the week you planned on just going through the motions until you could go out Saturday and hopefully get everything out.

You weren't paying attention as you walked down the hallway to your flat. Fishing in your purse for keys. You were at almost at your door when you saw him.

Sitting next to your door was a familiar face. A face you felt you haven't seen in forever.

“What are you doing here, Kyle?" Your voice was flat as you continued to blindly try and find your keys with one hand. Fuck. You really need to clean out your purse...

“My key wouldn’t work.” He explained. "So I’m out here.”

"I'm aware why you're not in my apartment since I changed the locks," you said, trying to keep your irritation at bay. "What I am asking is why did you come here?"

"You won't return any of our messages."

"You're all blocked, so technically I didn't really get any messages." "Besides, you don't get to complain to me about not responding to texts, Kyle Garrick." Your fingers finally wraps around them. God bless. "If you're here for your things, it'll have to wait. I have to sort through everyone's shit and I don't know whose is whose."

"We need to talk." He explains as you put the key into the lock, opening the door.

"Nah," you say scrunching your nose in that way he used to adore. "I'm good. But you can swing by tomorrow and pick up your things if you'd like." You say before trying to shut the door on him. You were stupid in thinking you could be faster than him.

Dammit.

"I know things haven't been good and I've definitely could have been better,'' he admits. "But can you at least try and let us apologize? Let us try and work it out."

"No." You answered, trying to close the door. Not caring if you had to resort to kicking his shins to get him out.

"Why not?" He countered.

“Maybe because I've already tried, Kyle?” You gave up on trying to shut him out. You were strong, but he didn't have any issues in besting you. “Because I actually tried with you. With all of you. You didn’t need to come here giving me excuses about your life being hectic because I’ve made the excuses for you.” You didn't miss how he practically flinched. He had always blamed his busy life. Family. Work. You stopped caring about whatever excuse he gave you and realized it was just that. An excuse. “I’ve been telling myself for months that everything you guys didn’t do for me wasn’t because you didn’t care about me. It was because of the stress of your deployments is the reason none of you tell me when you get back from until it’s time to fuck. I tell myself it’s because of the fucked up situation of me being with all of you that makes it awkward to meet your families. Families you all have that I now know I’m not worthy of meeting.” He wanted to correct you. You were. You were worthy. He was an idiot. “It’s not that I need your excuses to make me feel like what you did was justified. No matter what it was, it was apparently to you because you did it.”

He took a step back, processing everything you had said. He had been selfish. You were the reliable constant in his life. Someone he believed he never disappointed. Someone he couldn't disappoint no matter how many times he fucked up.

You took the opportunity to slam the door. Quickly turning the lock before he had a chance to open it back up.

God...

That felt good.

You had spent that evening collecting their thing in case Kyle did show back up tomorrow. You wouldn't make their lives easier by sorting all their shit and organizing it. Everything. One box. Let them figure it out. You almost had a mind to add a shirt that you knew didn't belong to any of them just to have them argue over it. Or least make them think there was someone else...

You were almost tempted if not for the premise that you wanted them to realize this was their fault. Their fuck up. But now that you were officially all broken up, you were free game.

[nadvs]

the power play (part two)

pairing hockeyplayer! rafe cameron x tutor! reader

rating mature 18+

summary rafe is your complete opposite. the only thing you have in common with the hockey player you tutor is that he’s also recently had his heart broken. in a last-ditch effort to make the people who hurt you regret it, you agree to pretend to date.

< prev

“There’s no way I just heard you right,” Lyla says. You look at your best friend through your phone screen, her mouth agape.

A moment ago, she called to invite you to her dorm room to watch movies. That sounds much better than the nerve-wracking plans you’ve already set for tonight.

“You did,” you laugh.

“You’re going to party,” she repeats, “with Rafe.”

“Yup,” you say. You set your phone down on your bed as you rifle through your closet. You’re already dressed, but you need to do something to expel your nervous energy.

You agreed to put on this farce yesterday. Now that you said it out loud, it’s setting in that you’re really going through with this.

“Back up,” she says over the phone behind you. “How did this happen?”

“We’ve gotten to know each other over tutoring. He asked me out. I said yes.”

“You actually like him like that?”

“Yeah.”

“Wow,” she replies.

You try to ignore the guilt that’s sitting on your shoulders. You’ve never lied to her, to anyone, like this.

But while she is your best friend, the bond she has with her twin brother is untouchable. You doubt she’d keep the truth of what you’re doing from Beck.

You settle back on your bed, picking up your phone.

“Well, I hope you have fun,” Lyla says with a chuckle, clearly surprised by your behavior. “I can’t wait to hear all about it.”

“Thanks,” you say meekly. You’ve never been on a real date. You’re not sure how convincing you’ll be on a pretend one.

A text notification appears, making your stomach turn with nerves.

It’s Rafe.

There in ten minutes.

════════

You haven’t stopped talking since you got in his car.

Rafe glances over at you when he stops at a red light, a minute away from the student house at the edge of campus.

“We have to be believable, right?” you ramble on, growing uneasier the more you think about it. “Wait, will this look bad if anyone in the tutoring program finds out I’m dating you? It’s not like they ever said we can’t see the people we tutor, but if–”

“We can call this off,” Rafe interrupts. If you’re going to be a nervous mess, he’d rather not do this at all.

You cross your arms, staring ahead at the traffic light. It turns green.

“No. I just want to be prepared,” you say. “You’re sure he won’t be there?”

Rafe drives forward. He’d told you that most of the guys on the hockey team show up to these parties, but Beck usually skips out.

You’re hopeful he attends, but it may be better to ease into this before having to worry about convincing Beck just yet. Rafe is certain his ex will be there and you feel less pressure at the thought of having to trick one person instead of two.

“Pretty sure,” Rafe replies.

He doesn’t get why some athletes are so high-strung about partying. He parties every weekend and his game is just as solid.

It worked so well with Emma. He liked that she chased fun and had a careless approach to life that made him feel like if he spent enough time with her, he could, too.

“Okay,” you heavily sigh. “We’ll only have one person to fool, then.”

“Don’t take it so seriously, alright?” he says. “It’s just a party. We’ll show up, look like a couple, and leave.”

You nod, trying to picture how you should act tonight. You’ll hold Rafe’s hand. You’ll hug him. You’ll pretend like he’s charming, like he’s someone you can’t stop thinking about, instead of the cold person you know him to be.

“No kissing,” you say hurriedly. You’re not about to waste your first kiss on Rafe Cameron.

He snorts a laugh.

“Not a problem,” he says.

════════

The house is humid and crowded and loud. The bass is so heavy that you can’t make out the lyrics.

You’d thought touching Rafe would only be for show, but as he pushes through the foyer, you cup the inside of his elbow, using him as an anchor.

He greets a few guys once he gets to the living room. Some are familiar, hockey players you’ve seen before.

Rafe introduces you. By the way you’re clinging onto him as you greet his friends, he can tell you’re still on edge, but hiding it behind a big smile.

He leans down to speak close to your ear, and you realize since you’d only ever sat together before, you’d never noticed just how much he towers over you.

“I’m getting a beer,” Rafe says. “Do you drink?”

“Not usually,” you reply. “But I’ll take one.”

════════

On Rafe’s way back to you, he sees her. Emma’s in the crowd, smiling and dancing.

He still doesn’t get how she could throw it all away. They had so much fun together. He forgot about all the bad shit when he was with her. And then, all of a sudden, it was over.

He returns to find you chatting with Isaac, the team’s goalie. You thank Rafe for the drink, taking a sip and doing an awful job at hiding how much you hate the taste, and pull him into the conversation.

“Did you know he’s a music major?” you say, pointing to Isaac.

“Yeah,” Rafe says stiffly, still reeling from seeing his ex. “We’ve known each other for two years.”

“It’s so cool,” you say, unbothered by Rafe’s prickliness. “What kind of music are you most interested in?”

You continue to chat with Isaac, who’s clearly happy to be on the subject. Your nerves are stable now that you’re distracted by a genuine conversation.

Once there’s a lull, you turn to Rafe, clinking your beer against his, feeling like yourself again.

“Kind of late to cheers you now, but cheers,” you say.

“Do you talk everyone’s ear off?” he asks.

“I try to,” you reply with a grin, handing him your drink. “And now I need to go to the bathroom.”

════════

As you walk through the hallway to head back downstairs, a shelf crammed with books catches your eye. Unable to curb your curiosity, you wander into the bedroom to inspect the colorful spines.

You realize you lost track of time when a harsh voice interrupts your reading of a book’s back cover.

“You serious?” you hear behind you.

You turn to see Rafe at the door, two beers in his hands. You must have been gone so long that he had to come look for you.

“Oops,” you giggle. You cross the room, taking your drink back. “Thanks. I just wanted to check out the collection.”

“I didn’t bring you here to read,” he says sharply.

“Jeez,” you say, brows furrowing. Emma had said he was mean. She wasn’t kidding. “Why are you being grumpier than usual?”

Rafe exhales a sigh, but it’s not frustrated like usual. It’s wobbly. Almost sad.

“She’s here,” he murmurs.

Your heart sinks. She’s here. And you left him alone.

You beckon him into the room, shutting the door to avoid anyone overhearing. The music is muffled now, your senses mildly blurred from the alcohol.

“I didn’t mean to get distracted,” you say softly.

You gaze up at him to see that the hard, angry exterior you’ve grown accustomed to is gone. Right now, there’s a glimpse of softness, of genuine heartbreak.

You realize you only really heard Emma’s perspective on the relationship. You hardly know Rafe’s.

“She really did a number on you, huh?” you ask.

He only looks to the side, quiet and tense. You point to the desk by the window.

“Let’s sit,” you say.

“We don’t have to get into it,” he groans.

You settle on the desk’s surface.

“I should have some background information, don’t you think?” you say. “Humor me. I’m a decent listener. Way better at talking, but...”

You smile. Rafe is sure he’ll never understand how someone can be this damn perky.

Once he can tell you’re not letting it go, he shifts to sit on the chair, looking up at you through slitted eyes.

“How long were you together?” you ask.

“Few months.”

It's a little less impossible to picture Rafe as a boyfriend now that you see his guard down by half an inch. He must not open up all that much. You assume that’s why the breakup is hitting him so hard.

“Did you meet here at school?”

“Yeah.” He thinks back to when he’d sparked a conversation with Emma the first weekend of his sophomore year. “Things were good, but then she…”

He stops talking. He’s being pathetic. The night she ended things has been on a loop in his head. They were both drunk, at a party just like this one, arguing like they always did, when she said she was done with it, with everything.

That was a month and a half ago and he’s still a wreck.

He can’t help it. He’s always felt like a bottomless pit of a person, and Emma helped fill the void, made him feel like he was worth something.

Now that what she gave him is gone, he’s back to emptiness. To the constant reminders of how unlovable he is.

You stare at him. It’s obvious in the pain behind his stare, the tightness of clenched fists, that she broke his heart.

“Was it unexpected?” you ask.

He nods.

“Did you talk to her downstairs?”

“No,” he says. He pinches the bridge of his nose, pain radiating in his core. “This whole thing is stupid.”

“It’s not,” you say. “And as your tutor, I have to tell you that stupid is a bad word.”

He flashes you an unimpressed glare. The tables have turned between you, dropping you into the role of the one who needs to be confident and reassuring.

“It’ll be fine,” you say, your tone lighthearted. “You just have to look like you’re having fun with your new girlfriend, who you’re completely infatuated with and who you would never yell at for innocently reading the back cover of a book.”

Rafe looks towards the bookshelf he found you standing next to, guilt pinching his chest. He’s always hated it about himself, how he snaps first and thinks later.

“Any chance you saw Beck?” you ask.

“No.”

“Okay,” you say. You chug the rest of your beer and wince once the bottle is empty. “That was gross. Let’s go.”

════════

It takes a few minutes to catch Emma’s eye from across the noisy, inebriated crowd.

You’re standing in the corner of the living room facing Rafe, your arms on his shoulders like he instructed you to do. Once her gaze is on you, you cock your head.

“She’s looking,” you say.

The combination of witnessing Rafe’s heartbreak and drinking the bitter alcohol has loosened up your nerves. The man standing across from you may be rough around the edges, but he has a heart. And he gave it to someone who shattered it.

While you might not know much about their failed relationship, seeing his pain up close is enough to make you want to help.

You step a little closer, the room’s heat pressing on your skin.

“Did you start Pride and Prejudice yet?” you ask.

Rafe’s eyes sweep over your face, his big hands settling on your hips.

“Don’t tutor me right now.”

“We’re supposed to be flirting, so we have to talk about something,” you reply. “It’s a really good book. A love story if you’re into that.”

He grimaces.

“Well, it explores other themes, too.”

You notice Emma’s still looking right at you, and this time, Gabby is standing beside her and staring daggers, too.

“Hey, is it possible to get drunk off of one beer?” you ramble. “Or is it just placebo?”

“Get closer,” he tells you impatiently.

“Right.”

You slide your hands around the back of his neck and pull him down into a hug, his cheek pressed on yours, the aroma of crisp aftershave drifting over you.

“I should limit myself to half a beer next time,” you say in his ear, faking a smile.

“Lightweight,” he replies.

You act like you’re scanning the room, as if you’re meeting Emma’s eyes by chance, and when you see her cold stare, you squeeze him tighter.

“She looks really mad,” you tell him.

Rafe smirks, his chest grazing yours. It feels good knowing he still has an effect on his ex. If she was really over him like she said she is, she wouldn’t care. This is the taste of power he needed.

He slides his hands to the small of your back, languidly dragging up the curve of your spine.

If he was a guy you like, if he was Beck, you’d be a nervous mess right now. But this is methodical and calculated. It’s easy to flirt with someone when it’s fake. There’s nothing on the line.

In the corner of your eye, Emma whispers something to Gabby and they disappear into the crowd. You pull back and slowly slip your hands off of Rafe’s shoulders to pat his chest.

“She left and she wasn’t happy,” you say. “You’re welcome.”

════════

When you think about last Friday, it’s like you’re recalling a story you heard about someone else, because it can’t possibly have been you.

One drink had you completely uninhibited. You’ve never been so close to a man before, and there you were, holding Rafe against you, murmuring in his ear, acting like two mutually interested people at a party, when in reality, you’re both always at least a little annoyed with each other.

As you sit in the study room, waiting for him to arrive for your tutoring session, you’re unsure if it’ll be awkward to look him in the eye after all that happened between you.

“Hey,” Rafe coolly says when he comes in.

“Hey,” you reply.

“Beck asked about you.”

You perk up, completely distracted from whatever you were just feeling.

“What?”

Rafe settles in his usual spot, a satisfied smile pulling at his lips, clearly proud of himself for thinking of this ruse in the first place.

“The other day at practice,” he says. He pulls out his laptop. “He asked me if you and me are hanging out.”

“And?”

“I said yeah, but it’s all fake.” He gives you an impatient shrug. “What do you think I said?”

“Ha ha,” you say flatly. “His sister’s my best friend. He must’ve heard about us from her.”

You were convincing when Lyla asked you about how your date went the next day, telling her that you had a great time with Rafe. She’s still surprised at the mismatched pair, but she’s trying to be supportive.

Rafe notices the subtle frown on your face as you pull his laptop forward.

“Did he say anything else?” you ask.

“No.”

“He’s asked his sister and you about me,” you say, “but he won’t talk to me himself. If he wants to check in on me, he should. I mean, I’ll definitely lie and say I’ve been doing great, but still.”

You try to shake away the thought. You hate how much you still care, how much his years of flirting with you just for everything to end the way it did have hurt you.

“Have you heard from Emma?” you ask.

Sorrow seeps into you when Rafe’s eyes lose their brightness. You shouldn’t have asked.

“She’s trying to act like she doesn’t care,” you try to console him. “You’ll have the last laugh.”

You swiftly change the subject, finding the file he was supposed to fill with a first draft. There’s hardly anything. You suck your teeth with a disappointed tsk.

“Rafe,” you say. “You need to come here with more written down.”

“What the hell am I supposed to write about a love story?” he grumbles.

“I already told you there are other themes in this book,” you reiterate. “Let’s go through them.”

════════

The next evening, you’re leaving the library after a study session when your phone vibrates with a text. It’s Rafe, letting you know that the team is celebrating a win at an off-campus bar and that you should come.

Imagining yourself walking into the bar and seeing Beck and acting the same way you did at that party feels impossible. A little part of you is worried last weekend’s display was a lucky fluke.

You reply to him as you walk deeper into the cool spring night: I have readings to do.

When ur done then?

You stare down at your screen, uncertain and nervous. It was easy when you had Emma to fool. You were confident she’d have some sort of reaction, seeing that it was her ex-boyfriend you were cuddling up to.

But Beck might not even care. And that’d hurt.

You eventually come to the conclusion that it’s worth a try. Beck damaged your pride. You want to undo some of that damage. And you didn’t start this just to back out.

You text Rafe: I’ll call you when I get there.

════════

Half an hour later, your name flashes on Rafe’s phone. He stands from his place at the table, all other seats taken up by teammates and girlfriends, and he makes his way to the entrance of the bar.

Even though you’re just someone he’s pretending to be into, it feels good to have a person come to a party just for him again. Emma used to always tag along for these things, back when she was the constant in his life.

“Hey,” he answers your call.

“Meet me at the front,” you say on the other end. Rafe finds you at the door, your arms crossed, your lips pulled into an awkward smile.

“I didn’t want to come in alone,” you explain. He puts his phone back in his pocket, eyes travelling over you in confusion. Why are you back to being nervous?

“Loosen up,” he says.

“I’m trying,” you breathe.

“Just follow my lead,” he says. “Act like you don’t care that he’s here.”

Rafe offers you his hand and you take it, feeling his slightly calloused palm against yours. You keep your gaze on the floor as he takes you into the loud bar.

He doesn’t give you a chance to think. He gets to his seat and pulls you onto his lap. You try your best to act like this is something you’ve done before.

You drape your arm around his shoulders, looking down at him, finding a sense of reassurance in his striking blue eyes as his lap warms the underside of your thighs.

“Casually sitting on your lap,” you mumble. “This is normal for us. Totally normal. Who needs a chair? Not me.”

Most of the group is in lively conversation. Some people don’t even notice your arrival. But Beck does.

You offer him a small smile from across the table, the sight of him making your stomach flutter. He nods in greeting, unreadable.

Rafe’s hand rests on the side of your bare thigh, fingers splayed over your cool skin, right where your skirt ends.

“You’re cold,” he says, loud enough over the music, quiet enough that only you can hear him.

His muscles start to tighten as his thumb brushes over the swell of your thigh.

It’s instinct. He can’t control that he’s getting worked up. He has a pretty girl on his lap. It’d be weird if his body didn’t have some sort of reaction.

“Yeah. It’s cold out,” you reply.

“How’d you get here?” he asks accusingly.

“I walked.”

“Walked?” he repeats. “By yourself?”

“Campus security can only escort me through school property,” you say. “I was on my own for like, two minutes.”

“Don’t do that again,” he says, quieter now. “I’d never let my girl walk alone at night.”

You tilt your head, frustration bubbling up inside you.

“Let?” you echo, brows furrowed.

He stares at you with hard eyes, forcing himself to push past the irritation of what you’re implying — that he’s controlling. He heard it from Emma before. She never understood that he was trying to protect her.

You’re supposed to be happy to see each other, not arguing. And he needs to get you back for pissing off his ex the other night. And it’s a good idea to get his hand off of your leg for his own sake.

His touch is featherlight when he cups your cheek. Your eyes soften with appreciation. He’s putting on this show for you, forcing your tense conversation to look sweet, and it makes you a bit more relaxed.

His ex is nowhere to be found, but he’s being affectionate with you, holding up his part of the deal. You can only hope this is working on Beck. You’d spent years seeing him with girls; he’d never seen you with a guy.

“I would’ve picked you up,” Rafe says stiffly, his tone mismatching his gesture. “If you were my girlfriend, I wouldn’t be cool with knowing something could happen to you. You said we have to be believable, yeah?”

You study him under the dimmed, warm lights, your heart racing from feeling Beck’s presence at the other side of the table.

“So, it’s like you… feel responsible for my safety or something?” you ask.

The stress digging in Rafe’s shoulders fades into a relief he wasn’t expecting. It’s uncommon for him to feel understood. He felt it at times with his ex, but she hardly ever tried to see his side, calling him too much.

As if he needed the reminder. He knows he’s too much.

“Yeah,” he replies.

“I’ll tell you to come get me next time.”

He lowers his hand, resting it on your leg again. This time, though, he makes sure to only be touching your clothes, making no contact with your skin.

“How was the game?” you ask.

“We always beat Hatfield,” Rafe says.

“How many penalties did you get?”

“I don’t count.”

“I wouldn’t, either,” you say. “You’re in the sin bin a lot.”

Rafe’s lips curl into a smile that tells you he agrees, but that he also won’t change a thing.

“How’d you know that?”

“I came to a lot of games last semester.”

“You should probably start coming to them again,” he says.

He’s right. If this were real, you’d be coming to the rink to cheer your boyfriend on.

“It’s kind of hard for me,” you admit.

Rafe grimaces in the impatient way he always does, wearing that look that implies whatever you just said is silly. You lick your lips nervously, leaning even closer to him to explain.

“I used to go to all of his games,” you say, hushed. “All through high school, too. Sitting behind the home bench just reminds me of all the time I wasted thinking he liked me, too.”

You pull back. Rafe stares at you for a moment. Despite your differences, you really have been hurt the same way. You both saw a future with someone who gave you a glimmer of hope just to shut you down.

He doesn’t usually care enough to make someone feel better. Right now is different.

“Then sit behind the sin bin,” he says. “Count my penalties for me.”

You laugh. And when you notice Beck’s eyes on you, it feels really good.

You think back to what Rafe said, to act like you don’t care. You notice Isaac a few seats away and greet him with a hello and a smile, then meet Beck’s gaze.

“How was the game?” you say casually from across the table.

“Good,” Beck answers. “It’s cool to play with Marcus again.”

“Oh, right,” you say. Marcus was a mutual friend in high school who now plays for Hatfield, a college a town away. “Did you get to talk to him?”

“Not really,” Beck replies. “What’s up with you? It’s been a while.”

It’s irritating to hear him say that, as if the distance between you wasn’t all because of him. You used to talk to Beck all the time, until he unexpectedly drove you away.

You shrug, hoping you don’t give away how hurt you’ve been.

“Not much,” you say. You look at Rafe, willing yourself to flirt with another man in front of the one who broke your heart. “This one guy I’m tutoring has been taking up all my time.”

“Sounds rough,” Rafe says.

“Yeah,” you play along, “but I’m very patient.”

“You are,” Beck says. “I wouldn’t have survived last semester if it weren’t for you.”

You force another smile, meeting Beck’s gaze again. You don’t like the reminder of all the time you spent helping him with school, pining for him, hoping he pined for you, too.

Rafe looks between you and Beck as you continue to chat. There’s an obvious history between you two, a tone that only old friends could have, but the exchange is stiff.

It’s clear, at least to him, that there’s something you two aren’t talking about.

════════

Once the night ends, you get into Rafe’s car. He turns the key, the engine roaring to life.

“That was great,” you murmur sarcastically as you put on your seatbelt. You meant it to come out as a joke, but your voice has a strain to it.

It would’ve been amazing if Beck stared like Emma did the other night, but he didn’t. You feel rejected all over again.

“I think he knows us both well enough to know we can’t really like each other like that,” you say. You watch the bar’s neon sign blink in the passenger side mirror as you try to ground yourself. “Oh, well. We tried.”

Rafe highly doubts he caught on. There’s no world where you’d two be a couple — you’re irritatingly chatty and wear your heart on your sleeve, the complete opposite of Rafe and what he looks for in a girl — but while Beck kept a cool facade, his glances at you weren’t skeptical. And they weren’t platonic, either.

He puts the car in drive, anxiety gnawing at him as he pulls out of the parking lot. It sounds like you’re about to call it quits all because of a false assumption.

“He fell for it,” Rafe mutters. “And he was jealous. You’re crazy if you think he wasn’t.”

You were hoping that Beck would be convinced that you’re fine after what happened between you. That maybe he’d regret the way he handled things. But you never thought he’d actually be jealous. Why would he be if he never liked you in the first place?

“Then I guess I’m crazy,” you tell him, “because to me, he didn’t seem to care at all.”

Rafe scratches his jaw, exasperated.

“You ever think that maybe he’s just not transparent like you are?” he says after a beat.

You look at his profile, the passing streetlights washing over the planes of his face.

“Transparent?” you echo. “So, I… gave us away?”

“That’s not what I mean,” Rafe says gruffly. “You’re convincing with my help, but without it, you’re damn easy to read. He’s not as obvious as you. If you looked hard enough, though, you could tell that he really didn’t like that you were sitting on my lap.”

You stare ahead at the darkened street. From your first tutoring session with Rafe, he had you figured out. You mentioned Beck and he caught on to whatever gave you away.

You’ve been able to pretend you’ve been fine, that your heart has been kept intact. Rafe is the only one who saw through it, from the moment he sat down next to you in that study room. He has a knack for reading people.

“How do you do that?” you ask, studying his features once more.

“What?”

“I’m not easy to read,” you say. “Nobody else has picked up on how upset I’ve been over him. Not even my best friend. But you called me out right away. How are you so good at seeing through people?”

Rafe’s grip tightens on the steering wheel. It’s a loaded question.

He spent his childhood hyperware of what unhappiness looks like in people, desperately clinging onto his dad’s fickle approval since he can remember. It never left his system. It turned him into a man trained in recognizing the slightest change in someone’s mood.

He could even sense when Emma was falling out of love with him. She said he was paranoid when he called her out on it, but he knew he was right.

After you spend your life starving for approval, wanting someone to see every side of you and decide that you’re worth loving, it’s second nature to make note of the signs that they’re writing you off. And to lose control when you beg them not to.

He swallows hard. You simply mentioned how observant he is and his mind is spinning now. You stripped back a layer, peeling at a part of him he pretends doesn’t exist.

It’s another thing about you that he’d never want in a real girlfriend. You’re doing what you did the other night when you asked about his ex. You’re prying.

“Just am,” he finally replies.

The tension is nipping at his bones, the memories flooding back with no mercy. Emma never dug at him like this. It’s part of why he liked her so much. She didn’t make him look at these sides of himself.

“Riveting,” you say, rolling your head to the side to look out the window. “Well, you don’t need to try to make me feel better, okay? You can give it to me straight that he doesn’t like me like that.”

“Did you register anything I just said?” he scoffs.

“Now you know how I feel when I’m tutoring you,” you joke, unaffected by his brashness like usual.

“He asked me about you the first chance he got, remember? And he was awkward as hell tonight. He cares. He’s just the type that’s desperate for everyone to think he’s a good guy, so when he’s jealous, he tries to hide it.”

You mull over his words. You’ve only ever thought the world of Beck, until he abruptly distanced himself from you and made you almost certain that he’d been conciously leading you on for years.

To think of him as someone preoccupied with being liked feels accurate. He always keeps the peace, possibly in an effort for approval.

The idea that he did feel something for you, that he does, is a dangerous type of hope you’re well acquainted with. It makes you feel better that someone else sees what you’d seen for years.

Rafe’s words, albeit curt, bring you relief. Beck must feel something that he never wanted to act on. And he might want to act on it now.

“I guess I’m just so used to overthinking about him,” you admit. “Thanks.”

Rafe is silent. Irritated. Tense. You didn’t want to believe all that Emma had told you that night at the rink, but most things check out. He’s moodier than you could’ve expected.

“You okay?” you ask.

He’s doing it again. He’s hardly offering any insight on what he’s thinking, shutting you out. Your dynamic feels unbalanced now, considering how much you’ve told him.

Rafe comes to a stop in front of your building. He’d do anything but admit why he’s so good at reading people. It’s a burden, a reminder of the desperation that’s lived in him ever since he was a child.

“We’re here,” he states flatly.

You unbuckle your seatbelt. Despite everything, you don’t have it in you to be angry at him. Not after he helped you so much. Not after he tried to console you in his own abrupt way.

“Rafe?”

“What?”

You stare at him until he gives in and looks at you, wearing yet another grimace.

“I’m not technically going through a breakup, but if anyone kind of gets what you’re going through right now, it’s me,” you tell him. “I vent to you a lot. It’s cool if you want to vent to me, too. This is all an act, but it doesn’t mean we can’t be friends. That’s all. Thanks for the ride.”

You step out of the car and shut the door, leaving Rafe with the disquieting realization that if he’s going to keep doing this with you, he’ll have to accept the fact that you probably won’t stop prying.

next >

author’s note it’s not a fic by me if rafe doesn’t have daddy issues…

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