#i think this is truly the end of the content but i keep saying that haha

[keypostos]

fem!reader. a bit suggestive. caleb can't get enough of you tbh.

caleb once told you that there's a side of him that he didn't want you to see. he wanted to be strong for you. truly, he was trying his hardest to hold on.

when he first said that, you thought it would have to do with his urges to possess you and watch over you.

turns out, the truth is that caleb is clingy as hell.

you're twirling around in a new dress that the two of you thrifted earlier. it's flowy, light-colored, and it makes you look like a deity in caleb's eyes. the dress falls right below your knees—perfect for summer.

you walk towards him on the bed, spinning in circles to give him a closer look. all of a sudden, you stop; you feel big, calloused, warm hands on your waist and look down to see caleb gawking up at you.

he pulls you in closer to his body and decides to rest his head in the middle of your boobs. he closes his eyes and his grip on your waist loosens. caleb lets out a long, content sigh.

caleb rubs circles on your waist, then says, "i can't decide if i want you to keep this dress on or off."

"caleb!" you gently swat at his hand, but he just presses his head deeper into your chest.

that was one of his more tame days.

a few nights ago, you were enjoying a night shower alone. when you hear the door creak open, you don't have to look to know it's caleb.

you can hear him dropping his heavy colonel jacket, belt, slacks—everything. because you've missed him, you poke your head out from the shower curtain, and the sight of you visibly relaxes caleb.

"hi, handsome."

for someone so exhausted, caleb has a stupid grin on his face when he replies, "hi, beautiful."

he stumbles in a little bit, and you two end up pressed against the shower wall. caleb's hand is on your waist to make sure you don't slip. he shakes his head like a dog trying to get wet hair out of his eyes. you can't help but smile at him, brushing his hair around to help him out.

caleb's tense exterior dissipates at your hand. in a second, he pulls your bare body against his. you can feel his chest against yours; he's taking deepest breaths while holding you against him. his hand travels throughout your body: from your shoulders to the small of your back to the curve of your ass, he's rubbing his hands all over you.

he sags his body on top of yours for a second before pressing a kiss on the top of your head.

you two rock back and forth in the shower while he mumbles, "'m sorry. missed you," he presses a kiss onto your shoulder, "missed you sooo much. all i could think about was you today. 'm sorry. i'm clingy."

and then there was today, where caleb decided to follow you for a majority of the time.

you would sit on the couch, watching some tv, and caleb would follow. he'd pull your legs up to rest on his lap, massaging at your ankles and feet.

you're doing laundry, and suddenly caleb props up next to you. you raise an eyebrow to see if he's doing anything distracting or suspicious, and he just responds with a playful shrug.

you shake him off, and then you're abruptly disrupted by caleb tickling you. before you can strike back, caleb laughs—that stupid, loud laugh he makes when he's about to do something awful—and picks you up to lay you over his shoulder. he runs around with you thumping on his broad back, demanding him to put you down just like when you were kids.

and then at dinner, caleb decides that eating across from you is too far away, and he has to eat right next to you to be satisfied. he lays his head on your shoulder, reading through some articles on his phone while you read over him. he also feeds you every now and then, offering you some favorite pieces from his plate as he lays on you.

tonight, after spending the whole day with you, he spoons you while going to sleep. his arms are linked protectively around your waist, and every now and then, caleb nuzzles his nose into the crook of your neck.

you make sure to get your pictures before reaching back and running your hands through his hair. he tilts his head closer to you and sighs in satisfaction.

you laugh at his evident delight; the sound makes caleb scrunch up his nose. you turn your head back slightly to talk to him, "don't you know you'll be sick of me soon if you keep this up?"

caleb's head jerks up from the crook of your neck. his eyebrows draw closely together and his eyes nearly bulge out of his head.

"don't ever say that again."

until he falls asleep, he litters your body with kisses until you realize that he's never, ever, getting sick of you. ever.

[marknee]

bts fanfics i think shakespeare would enlist himself into the military just to show the boys.

chapter iv. ✷ chapter vi.

KEYS ON SEVERITY OF SHAKESPEARE’S STATE:

( ✮ ) — he’s not really thinking about enlisting, is he?

( ♬ ) — what do you mean shakespeare shaved his head?.. oh no.

( ✎ ) — don’t military bases have security? how the hell did that man get inside?

( ♛ ) — he’s proper pulling a cross country right now. the boys look confused. and horrified.

THE SHAKESPEARE SERIES.

WARNING: keep in mind, some of these authors are very strict on the rule that no minors should read their work if they’re underage, and i will honour that. but, at the end of the day, i am not your parent. so, there’s that. but heed my warning wisely. any smut or 18+ content is highlighted in bold.

NOTE: dear readers, did you miss me? it’s been a while since i’ve shared my secret recommendations with you. but, since the two year anniversary of this special series has recently passed, i thought it was about time i spoiled you again. i’ve had quite a while to think about this one. so, i hope you’re ready. let’s give shakespeare something to enlist for.

( ♛ ) AMALTHEA — by @daechwitatamic

!! seokjin x reader | 40k !!

best friend’s older brother!au, smut (18+), fluff, angst.

bfb! bfb! my best friend’s brother, my friend’s brother! bfb! bfb! my best friend’s brother, my best friend’s brother!

this is one of the BEST seokjin fics i’ve ever read. straight to the point but there is no other way to put it. got to the point i would wake up earlier just to read another chapter before work. i was always present, bitch.

alike most of you, as someone who reads A LOT (re: i have no credentials for this, just my mum), i can tell when someone pours their every blood, sweat and tears (ha.) into writing. and for me, this is one of those writers.

this writer really shocked me at how much i connected to this story whilst reading n how attached i felt after finishing. caught me off guard, but so did death to shakespeare… sooo, what can i say.

“it’s been over a decade since that night, and you still don't know if he meant his family, or you.” dude i wish you could’ve seen my face. lmfao.

let’s just say there’s a reason this one’s first. amazed. truly.

( ♛ ) MOON MAGIC — by @jincherie

!! hoseok x reader | 33.8k !!

mermaid!au, pirate!au, fluff (like.. teeth rotting).

“and he calls me mooonlight toooooo,” she sings into the empty crowd with tears in her eyes. she meaning me.

now i know i’m known for having a sweet tooth, but damn! youse are gonna eventually turn me into an elizabethan england commoner. y’know, the crap dental hygiene n all. (re: shakespeare’s teeth.)

but, you know me. i looooove a good ‘ol fantasy inspired fic, so i guess i’m willing to risk a little here. and this one was worth risking for.

slams hand onto the table. the world building! this writer was not playing around when it came to painting us a picture of the world they wanted to create. i wanna live in this fic i’m not joking. get me in touch with namjoon asap for some of that moon magic shit. ok, rolls credits.

perfect in every single way. this is my first run-in with this writer, but am i swimming (sorry.) my way over to their masterlist? yeeees.

“he laughs and tells you that, actually, it's probably the youngest three princes that are most beloved by all.”

yea girl. not on my watch. enjoy!

( ✎ ) ALL GROWN UP — by @btsgotjams27

!! jungkook x reader | 64k !!

friends to lovers, older woman/younger man, smut (18+).

the fact this fic was loosely inspired by one of my all-time comfort kdramas… i didn’t even have to question adding it to my list. it felt like i was watching it for the first time again… deeply sighs. ahhh the nostalgia…

i had this fic bookmarked on my ao3 for the looongest time, but it was only recently that i got round to actually reading it. and i’m so glad i did. bless her, she was waiting for her moment to shine. and it’s now.

youngest kids in the family please raise your hands! all in attendance! you are welcome and appreciated here. the feeling of desperation, trying to get people to see you as your current age rather than the little kid they’ll forever remember. i think that’s why i loved this fic so much: i could relate to it.

alike this story, most fics on here are on the older side of things. but honestly, if it’s good and genuine, it’ll last forever. no matter how much time has gone by. feelings stay - perhaps even grow?

the same for our adorable pair over here. could time play in their favour?

you let me know when you finish it.

( ✮ ) ALIVE AHA FXCK — by @softyoongiionly

!! vampire!yoongi x human!reader | 42k !!

vampire!au, smut (18+), soulmate!au (you know i had to), please read the trigger warnings.

devoured. no pun intended. though other vampire synonyms include but are not limited to: consumed, ate, guzzled, feasted etc… thank you google, after a few questionable internet searches.

i cannot tell you how glad i am that shakespeare never wrote about vampires. cuz he would’ve written my ass into that damn thing and killed me off from the things i’ve said about that guy. and the things i will continue to say…

i love this fic on a personal level. it reminds me of being fourteen again, curled up in my sheets as the sun reaches the tip of my windowsill and the morning chill settles in after a night of fighting sleep to finish a fanfic. it’s safe - i’m safe.

i genuinely had so much fun reading this story. the characterisation of both the reader and yoongi is so unhinged and playful and i’m obsessed. if i could recommend it to anyone, it would be my younger self cuz i know she’d love it :,). n she did!

y’know, sometimes you just gotta read a silly - infused with twilight puns - vampire-themed yoongi fic for the world to feel alright again.

and it did - for me. n now - for you.

( ♛ ) OLDER — by @lovieku

!! dilf!jk x inexperienced!reader | 18.2k !!

smut (18+), dilf!au, best friend’s father, age gap.

pure, undeniable and utter filth. in the best fuckin’ way possible. yea, if you could crawl into my mind, plunge into the inky depths of whatever lurks there.. this is what you’d find lying on the sand floor. unadulterated sin.

i am so disgustingly obsessed with this fic i can’t explain it, hence why it’s ended up on my shelf of recommendations. it scratches and pleases a deep, desperate itch in my brain. maybe it’s the age gap, who knows?

this writer has a talent for making us - or, me. - claw at something forbidden in an almost hungry advance. the sinner doing the sinning. and goddamn, i’m impressed. n i bet shakespeare is too. well, he fuckin’ better be.

the characters are imperfect and selfish and lustful, but oh my god i love them. add on dilf!jk with his slutty, unbuttoned shirts and you have me sold.

@lovieku you are such an amazing writer. you have such a way with how you express. do not underestimate that. i am beyond excited to see your future works :)

masterpiece. but what the fuck was that ending.

( ♛ ) HABITS OF A CLANDESTINE NATURE — by @alphabetboyluvr

!! college!jk x female!oc | 16k !!

rich!jk, waitress!oc, enemies to lovers, smut (18+).

he got, he got away! he got away! he got away! he’s got a way, he’s got a way! awayyyyheyeyyyyheyyy! yea, but didn’t manage to escape a 460-year-old poet, nor me.. so..

clementines, fruit trees, the sound of innocent laughter, wind chimes, a sheer blur of colour, soft hands. things that come to mind whenever i am reminded of this fic. a solid and beautiful depiction of hurt and love and everything in between.

this writer knew straight off the bat how to sell this pair to the audience. how to capture us and string us along for the journey of two hurting, longing and hurting all over again. shakespeare bought the hanging fruit that’s for damn sure… me too then, perhaps.

the vision for this story is perfect to me. i almost want to give the writer a kiss on the forehead.

i did write down one quote; used from the story. a way to sum it all up. “the perfect place to get lost. the perfect place to get found, too.”

if you’re looking for somewhere to get lost, i hope this satisfies that need. i also hope i come back to read this every once in a while. for old times sake. to get found again.

( ♬ ) GUILTY AS SIN — by @gldrushh

!! brother in law!jungkook x widow!reader | 32k !!

forbidden love!au, smut (18+), angst.

“it began to lose its meaning. healing. as if it were something—a destination you could stumble upon.” oh, don’t even talk to me. people died. shakepeare died. april 23rd 1616.

god, this story is just so raw in and of itself - perfectly depicting the human experience of love and loss. inevitable and sometimes unexpected. i was - n still remain - in awe.

i crossed by this fic unexpectedly and i’m so glad that whatever butterfly effect led me to finding this succeeded, but damn that action also had consequences… like real bad… haha….

i want to cry every time this fic crosses my mind. dramatic? lil bit. but when you read it, holy shit - this will make sense to you young’uns. in due time.

well, to be even more dramatic as such… my wounds from reading this are still fresh (i will sob don’t test me), so i hand the torch over to you to make of this story what you will.

please go into this fic with no expectations. go in willingly and just… fall into it. i will be on the other side when you resurface and i will definitely say something ironic.

like i told you so. xx.

( ♛ ) CALLING PRODUCER MIN YOONGI — by @bangtan-dreamland

!! yoongi x reader | 4.6k !!

strangers to lovers, just fluff all around.

now this is the bitch i aspire to be. dials random ass numbers of random ass strangers just to yap. oh yea, that’s my kinda girl. i just hope she knows she’s the coolest person ever to exist to me. i want to buy a star for her. a big, bright one.

i think i have said this before, but never ever underestimate the power of a drabble. a short fic of little can hold the weight of ten times that amount. especially this one (which i read that long ago but has ultimately ended up here - says it all tbh).

this fic is everything and more to me. i miss it when i’m not reading it, and i miss it when it’s right in front of me. it has me wanting to ring up random people in hopes of meeting my true love - which i won’t, but who knows what might happen?

also, to point out - the immense chemistry between these characters is off the charts. felt like i was intruding on my own phone call.

good dialogue? tick. amazing characterisation? tick. interesting plot? tick. has shakespeare wanting to never learn how to use a phone in case he puts this fic to shame? tick.

lol.

( ✎ ) THE LOVE PROGNOSIS — by @awrkive

!! surgeon!jk x surgeon!reader | 90.9k !!

roommates!au, medical!au, smut (18+), fluff.

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarggggrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrgggggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhh. aaaand scene!

can i be honest? y’all stress me the fuck out! and you know who you are! starts with ‘j’ ends with ‘k’. the other one being ‘s’ ends with ‘e’. but one of you i like more and it’s not you, shakespeare.

the time it took me to finish this insanely crafted three-parter was embarrassingly short. (i think i formed a dent in my bed). so when i finished i was - obviously - heartbroken, so i did what every sane person does. i read all the drabbles. aaaand the tlp social media extras. and listened to the playlist. and cried. duh.

whilst all the fics on here deserve their own kdrama, i feel this one would ruin me completely. it’s weightlifting fairy kim bok joo all over again. it’s potential is there. like, c’mon screenwriters. i know you want to. or just pay me to do it.

the characters, the yearning, the friendship - immediately gets flashbacks… - ten’s across the board!

@awrkive is one to look out for. for real. i - along with everyone else here - will be tuning in. full volume.

oh yea, whilst we’re all still here. fuck that other guy. you know who you are! (no spoilers here).

( ♛ ) LET’S GET QUIZZICAL — by @taleasnewastime

!! jimin x f!reader | 28.6k !!

friends to lovers, angst, smut (18+).

sooooo… what i’m hearing is.. we all weren’t aware flo rida’s stage name is just florida with a space..? right? right.? cuz when you say it like that..

having been a victim of multiple pub quizzes in my past (haven’t won - yet!) the dialogue in this story was fucking perfect and scary real, depicting the anxiety, thrill and pure adrenaline running through your body as you rack your brain of every dumb fact you’ve ever read and hope it’s made a home somewhere up there.

not to mention you gotta trust your teammates like your life depends on it - cuz it fuckin’ does. n park jimin being one of them? the rest of the teams… y’all better not even bother showing up atp.

i thought the manor of the story being told through its settings was.. a slice of genius. so so cool and helped set the tone too. every time we transported back to the quiz i clutched my pearls in sheer relief.

also, i wish i could’ve highlighted angst in bold cause damn! you really hit us round the head with that one. and ofc i loved it, but damn. take notes, shakespeare. we don’t have to be killing characters off to ruin mk’s life. hm?

nothing less than spectacular from our @taleasnewastime.

( ♬ ) TRICKS OF THE TRADE — by @stutterfly

!! yoongi x reader | 24.1k !!

body swap!au, soulmates!au (you know me), smut (18+), humour.

peers down through speckled glasses, what’s next..? …oh god. sighs heavily and licks pen.

so i knew from the moment i read ‘body swap’ within the tags that this concept was gonna be so fuckin’ weird but so damn good. and low n behold, it didn’t disappoint. luckily i am a lover of fuckin’ weird.

this concept is so difficult to write. the foreign sensation of a different body and trying to channel each thought n emotions involved is complicated to convey, but this author did it so incredibly well.

also, not to be that person… but that smut… i’m gon’ be sleeping soooo well tonight let’s just say that lmfao. 100/10. might go back n read it when i’m done with this.

blushing… X

shakespeare couldn’t even fathom a story such as this - and we’re talking about the guy who once wrote about an incestuous relationship between a king and his daughter.

crazy work. you are so cool @stutterfly.

( ✎ ) TRIVIA LOVE — by @luxekook

!! namjoon x reader | 5.4k !!

non idol!au, smut (18+).

to quote myself from my reblog on feb 26 2020, “why was i smiling the whole way throughout this??” n you know what? hell yea i still stand by that!

this is the second pub quiz fic i have within this chapter (surprisingly, but not disappointing), but the circumstances cannot be more different.

the first group i would join, perhaps even rally with a little. but if i’m ever attending a pub night and these mother fuckers are in tow, best believe i’m leaving. they’re not ones to fuck with yo. they have $20 to win. they mean war.

since we’re at the end, and i’m 100% convinced nobody is still reading these, soooo… i can speak my truth. someone get me on joon’s lap. you gon’ be calling me cinderella cuz it’s gonna fit perfectly by midnight bro. on the dot.

this is - n will always be - a classic to me. one that i will always return to eventually. i can dress up all i want with these big fics, but these smaller ones are always a guilty pleasure.

like cinderella returning to her mice friends (or whatever), i will always come back to @luxekook and their stories.

forever xoxo.

MARKNEE’S SPECIAL MENTIONS:

caught my attention, and deserve their flowers.

( ♬ ) THE DEVIL SKATES ON THIN ICE — by @vankoya

!! yoongi x reader | 60.5k !!

winter sports!au, fluff, angst, humour.

my love life also skates on thin ice. lmfao. especially after this.

( ✎ ) KNOCKED — by @sailoryooons

!! streamer!seokjin x f!reader | 10.6k !!

roommates to lovers, smut (18+), humour.

more like she’s about to knock him out.

( ♬ ) NEFARIOUS — by @yoonia

!! jimin x f!reader | 39.2k !!

sex club!au, gentlemen club!au, smut (18+).

lets out a long sigh. won’t be in a rush to forget this one.

( ✎ ) THINGS WE DON’T SAY — by @wintaerbaer

!! taehyung x reader | 54.5k !!

best friends to lovers, slow burn, eventual smut.

the found family trope is strooong.

© marknee, 2025. all rights reserved.

[pazziescapism]

Break Our Ice - Chapter 2

pairing: paige x azzi

wc: 4.2k

tw: light sexual content, alcohol

au fic what??, figureskater!Azzi x icehockeyplayer!Paige

fake dating, just like playful banter teasing relationship to lovers, basically paige and azzi dancing around each other

a/n: okayy let go, we're back. firstly thank you for all the interest in this fic, i was afraid it'd be a little boring. i may not be able to update everyday but i promise to aim for at least a chapter a week. as always, let me know what u think and feel free to send me reactions. also, i wanna preface this and say i have never written anything remotely sexual for wlw so if its kinda choppy...hopefully that'll just improve with time which is why i kinda skimmed it over. anyway happy reading!!

“What the fuck” Paige says that following weekend, starting at Azzi’s belly piercing, as she climbs into her car. “You understand we’re going outside, right? Like where other people are?

Azzi looks down at her outfit, frowning slightly “Yes? What’s wrong?”

Paige doesn’t move, even though she had been the one texting Azzi to hurry up. Azzi looks down again, trying to see where the issue was. She’s wearing a dark grey skintight long sleeve that cuts right above her midriff paired with some grey sweatpants.

“I thought it was cute,” she says, “like casual and comfortable or something.”

Paige makes a strangled noise in the back of her throat, Azzi was right, it was – it was also a myriad of other things she could think of like hot, sexy, beautiful, gorgeous - and that was exactly the problem. “No, yea it is, I guess I’ve never seen you not in athleisure wear before.”

‘So, I don’t need to go back in and change?” Azzi asks.

Paige looks physically pained by the suggestion. “No, definitely not.”

“Okay, so can you tell me what we’re doing now?” Azzi asks, as Paige starts her car.

“Yeah,” Paige says. Her hand comes around the passenger seat as she looks behind her and reverses, her arm stretching behind Azzi. Whatever she says next flies right over Azzi’s head and is lost entirely as she watches the subtle flex of Paige’s biceps, pale skin bulging just slightly. Azzi’s mouth feels dry.

“-and it just feels like it’s not going well,” she hears Paige say once the arm is removed and she tunes back in sharply.

“What?”

Paige sends her a questioning look that Azzi’s gotten used to the last few days. “This whole thing- we just are really not good at it”

“Oh” Azzi says, and lets her head fall back against the seat. “Yeah, tell me about it.”

Jayden, who’s stopped by twice over the last three days, is clearly suspecting Azzi of lying. The only thing keeping him from accusing Azzi outright is probably some sick twisted urge to catch her in the act, vindicating himself forever in the process. Azzi isn’t sure how many more questions she can nervously stammer out fake answers to until she ends up contradicting herself in a truly catastrophic way.

The situation was so terrible that Sarah had turned to Azzi before leaving the locker room yesterday and said, as casually as she were asking about the weather, “Are you and Paige pretending to date?”

Azzi had spluttered; the water she had been drinking threatening to drip down her chin “We- I can’t-”

Sarah had only looked at her, like Azzi was a partially strangled insect she held trapped in a jam jar. “You aren’t very good at it” she had added, killing any sort of response of Azzi’s denial.

“We’re practicing” Azzi had said in response even though her pride stung a little to be caught on by a seemingly new freshman.

“You both seem a little uncomfortable.”

Azzi hadn’t even known what to say to that and had eventually mustered up a defensive, “We’re still working on it”

“The pretend relationship” Sarah had said, as though confirming.

“Yes.”

“Ah well,” She had said, vague and incomprehensible as usual. “No one laps before learning to swim.”

The strange exchange had been weighing on Azzi’s mind for hours afterward.

The problem is that Paige is a really, truly, exceptionally bad liar. And Azzi, who is meant to cover for that, hasn’t been in a serious relationship since the age of fifteen. To her slight embarrassment, she’s forgotten what dating someone even looks like, much less how she should act in a relationship. Much less how to act when she’s pretending to be in a relationship to someone she’s actually incredibly attracted to. The whole thing is beginning to seem like self-inflicted torture, a slow bleeding-to-death kind of torture.

“it’s fine,” she says, like she’s said the last three days, “we’ll get it eventually.”

“I think I have a solution.” Paige says, making a right turn that would have sent Azzi careening through the side of the car, if not for her seatbelt. “Oops, sorry, anyway I think we just have to get to know each other better.”

“Know each other better” Azzi repeats dubiously.

“Yes, exactly” Paige says. She parks with a screeching of tires and turns to Azzi with the battle-ready focus of a military general. “I’m going to pick up a pizza. You go into that liquor store and get something for us to drink. We are gonna get drink and figure this out tonight.”

“Ah wait-” Azzi says, but Paige is already heading into the pizza place.

Azzi sighs and walks into the liquor store. Twenty minutes later she walks out to a baffled Paige that she needs to come inside with Azzi and vouch for her age so that the man behind the counter doesn’t confiscate her ID.

Then she patiently waits for Paige to stop laughing.

By the time they get the pizza and their drinks back to Paige’s apartment, its six in the evening and the sun has set.

“I’ve never seen your apartment before,” Azzi muses, standing at the entrance as Paige unlocks her door. “But your building is nicer than mine.”

The apartment is nicer than Azzi’s too. Bigger for starters, with huge windows in the seating and dining areas that make it seem more spacious than it is. The space is setup to entertain, enough chairs to seat any number or people, complete with matching soft plush cushions.

“It’s weird seeing you this quiet” Azzi says, watching Paige lock the door behind them. “Are you getting nervous or something?” Azzi giggles staring at the giant television hung on the living room wall.

Paige playfully shoves Azzi's back, pushing her forward. “Trust me, I’m not. I just haven’t had anyone here in a while...”

Paige brushes off Azzi’s questioning glance as she sets up the pizza and glasses, pouring their drinks and taking a seat on her expensive looking carpet, leaning against the couch as she eats.

Once they’re several drinks in, the empty pizza box lying between them, Paige gets up and comes back with a sheet of paper. Azzi can make out her handwriting going all the way down the page.

“Is that a list?” Azzi asks, taken aback. “Are those all questions? Did you write me a list?”

“We’ll start easy” Paige says, a little flushed.

“Hang on, this can’t be an interrogation” Azzi interjects as she plucks the piece of paper from Paige’s hand.

“Favourite colour?” Azzi asks.

“Purple.” Paige nods in response.

“Okay favourite animal?” Azzi follows up.

Paige winces “I don’t know?” 

“What do you mean you don’t know your own favourite animal?” Azzi asks, exasperated. “it’s just which one you like best, which one do you like best?”

“Can we do the next question or something”

“No,” Azzi says firmly. “What’s your favourite animal?”

“I don’t know!” Paige protests. “I never think about it. What’s yours?”

“Dogs” Azzi says immediately, and Paige nods.

“That’s a good one. Okay, that my favourite too.”

Azzi stares at her, and Paige stares back gleefully. That jawline is ever as sharp, and her blue eyes are looking directly into Azzi’s. Life is worth living after all.

“Fine,” Azzi snaps, petulant. “What’s your favourite ice cream flavour?”

Paige smiles innocuously. “I don’t know, what’s yours?”

Theres a moment of silence, Paige smiling, chin tilted down, looking up at Azzi innocently and Azzi’s squinting stare is fixed on her. Then Azzi pulls a cushion off her couch and throws it at her, and Paige bats it away breaking into laughter.

“Paige” Azzi complains, but she’s laughing too. “You can’t just steal all my favourites! Are you twelve?”

“Don’t ask me such stupid questions then!” Paige says, still laughing.

“You were the one who wrote these questions to begin with” Azzi says falling back into the couch as she buried her face in the cushions. 

Paige stands up to look down at Azzi still flopped into the couch her hair slightly messier than normal.

“What? Azzi says, adorably confused with her one incredibly adorable dimple peeking out.

“God” Paige says, mournfully. “You’re kind of a loser, huh?”

Azzi shoots up pulling Paige to fall on the couch with her, shoving a pillow over her face.

They abandon the questions after that and start a movie instead. Azzi complaining about Paige’s poor hospitality until Paige caves and pours them both new glasses. The movie starts to play, both of them siting appropriately on two separate couch cushions as some men in suits start fighting on the screen. Ten minutes through the movie, Paige’s glass is empty and she’s starting to migrate closer to Azzi. Squirming until Azzi is squished into the narrow spot between Paige and the arch of the couch, Azzi’s legs swinging over Paige’s lap, Paige’s arm coming up to encircle her.

This is Azzi’s favourite, she decides instantly, when Paige is all around her, and all Azzi can smell in any direction is her Valentino cologne, and they’re pressed up so close together that Azzi can feel her chest rise and fall with each breath. She’d forgotten, at some point, what it was like to be so close to another person, so that her space became their space, their breathing evening out into the same rhythm. 

“Paigey” she says, not looking up from where a man in a suit is now yelling something on the television. “I can’t lie, you’ve really broken through all the walls I know I normally have up, its honestly a little scary…so we’re friends now”

Azzi continues to keep her focus on the screen although whatever that’s playing is truly the last thing she’s thinking about right now as she can feel the heat of Paige’s stare on the side of her face. Azzi doesn’t look at her, so Paige resorts to having the hand on Azzi hip squeeze a little. Suddenly, Azzi is glad for the darkness, so that Paige can’t see how her face flushes at the fondness of her gesture. She leans her head on Paige’s shoulder. She thinks about kissing her. Azzi is once again suddenly very aware that she could be kissing her right now, could be pressing her tonged against that chiselled jaw and those pink lips, yet she isn’t.

She’s honestly still considering it when Paige kisses her.

It’s exactly the kind of kiss Azzi would have expected, except its better because its real, because its flesh and blood moving underneath her, warm hands holding her jaw gently in place.

“What” Azzi says, pulling away slightly, her breath coming heavier than it should be, “are we doing?”

Paige smiles at her, a little crooked, her face a little red. “I thought that part was clear, honestly.”

Azzi is fairly sure she should move away. Its only that she can’t really remember why in the moment.

Azzi is really terrible at denying herself she realises a little later.

“It’s fine” she says, panting slightly. “We are just two adults. Two adults pretending to date. If anything, it’s just convenient” 

“Right” Paige agrees, though she doesn’t seem to be paying much attention, her hands slipping down Azzi’s back to squeeze at her ass, fingers tightening in a grip that is almost bruising, making Azzi gasp. “Can I take your shirt off?”

Azzi shifts where she’s kneeling over Paige’s lap and leans back away from the hot mouth on her throat.

“You first” she says, pushing up ineffectually at the grey hoodie Paige’s wearing. She only succeeds in wrinkling it, until Paige makes an impatient noise and pulls it off herself, exposing a long stretch of lean but muscled skin. Azzi groans overwhelmed and thrilled all at once. Paige’s already got both hands up Azzi’s shirt tracing over her ribcage, the feeling making Azzi shudder.

The urgency doesn’t disappear, not when Azzi pushes away to breathe, not when Paige gasps a shaky exhalation into the curve of Azzi’s neck as she rolls their hips together. Not when she Paige lays Azzi down on the cough looking up at her through her thick eyelashes with her eyes dark, and hair messy, making Azzi whimper uselessly into her hand and Paige pushes a finger into her.

Afterwards, with sweat cooling, tacky on both their skins, Azzi reaches down off the couch and grabs the sheet of paper Paige had brought in, now lying discarded on the floor.

“Did you handwrite all of these” She asks, amazed, pushing Paige’s face away with a hand and she tries to take the paper back. “Stop that I’m reading this.”

The questions range from general- her favourite colour, music artists- to Azzi-centric; questions about the routines she likes to perform, how she met Caroline and Kaitlyn, where she practices when not on the rink. Azzi’s jaw goes progressively slacker as she looks through the list, floored by how much attention Paige has been paying to her, how much interest she’s taken in in her, somehow keeping her unaware of it.

“Careful, or I might start to think you like me after all, p” Azzi says lightly, hoping it distracts from the obvious affection she’s sure must be inscribed all over her face.

“You asked me for help” Paige says, apparently giving up on trying to grab the sheet back. “I wasn’t going to half-ass it.” Azzi shifts to look at her and nearly falls off the narrow couch space they’ve squeezed themselves into, far too small for two athletes. Paige’s arms come up fast, pulling her back up, shift so Azzi is halfway on top of her, their legs tangled together.

“Do you ever half-ass anything?” Azzi asks breathlessly.

“I’m a whole ass kinda person,” Paige tells her, and her hand strays lower from where its resting on Azzi’s back, as if to prove her point.

Azzi ignores this, as well as she can with the heat flooding her face. “Since you made the list, it’d be a shame to waste it,” she says, and passes Paige back the paper. “You can ask three, and then it’s my turn. Make them count.”

Paige doesn’t seem inclined to play along, lethargic from sex, her eyelids drooping over her eyes. “I though you said they were stupid questions” she says, “what happens if I don’t answer?”

“I’ll kill you” Azzi says, then amends. “For every three you answer, I’ll give you a kiss.”

Paige’s eyes snap back open. “Is that a reward or a punishment?” She grumbles, but she’s already holding the paper up, scanning the list for questions.

Two questions later, Paige has learned that Azzi’s favourite move to incorporate into her routines in a Bielmann spin – lifting one leg over her head- and that she has two younger brothers.

Paige clears her throat, not looking up from the list “Last one- why’s that Jayden guy so obsessed with you?”

Azzi furrows her brows. She didn’t remember seeing that one on the list. “Not sure,” she answers anyway. “Jayden used to live somewhere in Europe. I only met him about a year ago, when he came to help out with the business and rink.”

“Did you not get along?” Paige asks, Azzi shakes her head.

“Actually, I though he resented me at first, for taking so much of his dad’s attention because he’d never talk to me. He only got weird later.”

“So you didn’t date or anything?” it’s a casual question, thrown out as a follow-up but there’s something sharply honest in Paige’s voice that makes Azzi look up at her.

“That’s been two extra questions” she points out. “But no.”

Paige smiles, a little sheepish, and lets the paper drift off the couch and onto the floor, calloused hands cupping Azzi’s cheeks.

“Here,” she says, her hands moving to the side of Azzi’s face. “I’ll make it up to you”

Their first kiss (and a few following that) had been harsh, frantic. Teeth digging into lips, hard nails digging into flesh, desperate kisses followed by fumbling fingers.

This kiss is softer, sweeter. A hello, I’m home kiss and a goodbye, ill miss you kiss and a baby, you made it kiss. Azzi presses a little closer, small sounds leaving her lips, trapped between their mouths. Paige kisses her like she’s trying to memorize her, mapping out the spots that makes her melt, until half-formed whimpers are pushing their way out of Azzi’s mouth, tingling heat tracing its way up her spine.

Azzi pulls away with a wet sound that’s almost embarrassing. Paige’s lips are kiss-red, slick with spit and slightly swollen.

“If you keep doing that” Azzi says, her voice raw, “We’ll never get though that list.”

She must look similar because Paige’s eyes are heated as she scans Azzi’s face. “We’ll have time,” she murmurs, and pulls Azzi in again.

Azzi is in the midst of trying to get her key in the lock of her apartment, the only light to see by two small lamps on either side of the door. She keeps missing the lock, her hands a little shaky, scratching up the sides of the metal, creating loud noises every time she messes up.

“Well, well, well,” Caroline’s voice says from behind her, “look what we have here.”

“Don’t listen to her” Kaitlyn says when Azzi turns around. The two of them are standing in the doorway of Kaitlyn’s apartment, right across from Azzi’s, “Do your walk of shame with pride.”

“Caroline why couldn’t Kaitlyn live in your apartment complex.” Azzi says, more to the area at large than either of her friends. “Do I deserve this?”

“What has innocent Azzi been up to, coming back a little dishevelled?” Kaitlyn coos, ignoring her.

“It’s late you know” Caroline adds, faux disapproval lining her voice “you have practice tomorrow.

“Are you my parents?” Azzi asks snidely. “One of you come get my door open for me”

Kaitlyn steps forward and takes the key from her, unlocking the door, then entering Azzi’s apartment before she herself could even get in.

“Go on,” Kaitlyn says, taking a sea on her carpet, uninvited. Caroline sits next to her, both of them peering up at Azzi. She feels a bit like a kindergarten teacher. “Tell us about your date.”

Azzi makes indistinct grumbling noises and flops down beside them, cross-legged on the floor. Her socks are two different shades of black, she thinks, staring down at her feet.

“She’s stressed about her crush,” Kaitlyn whispers conspiratorially to Caroline.

“I don’t have a crush on her,” Azzi says, wincing. “That makes it sound so middle school.”

“Oh, sorry,” Caroline says, not sounding very sorry at all. “What would you call it? A lust-induced apoplexy?” 

Azzi stares very firmly at the carpet. Nice long wiry fibres in her carpet. “I don’t know. I think she’s hot, yeah. I like to make her a little angry but that’s just attraction (and maybe for attention), you know? I have eyes, so obviously I’m attracted to her.” 

Her voice trails off. Paige’s carpet was plush. You couldn’t see each individual rug fibre in it, like you could with Azzi’s. It probably cost a lot more.

“She’s a good listener too,” Azzi continues, “Better than you’d expect. I mean, you’d think she was a total musclehead, but she’s really smart. And she remembers things I say, like even small things. I like talking to her. I don’t know what you would call that.”

 She finally looks up from the floor, hoping to see some understanding, maybe some compassion in her friends’ eyes-

As Kaitlyn and Caroline struggle to contain their laughter, “You guys are the worst friends known to man” Azzi complains.

Caroline does not look particularly offended by this. “Sorry. We get caught up in the moment.”

Azzi stares. “‘The moment’ being the moment that my life choices start falling apart before my eyes?”

“Your life is always falling apart,” Kaitlyn says soothingly. “If I waited to have sex until you were free from crisis, I would still be a virgin.”

Azzi stares harder. Caroline pats her head, ruffling her hair. “There, there. Do you want a hug?”

“No,” Azzi says, pushing her hand off. 

“So, was the date good?” Caroline asks, raising her eyebrows. “Are the fake girlfriends now real girlfriends?”

“No!” Azzi says. “It was, you know, it was casual sex.”

Silence rings in Azzi’s living room.

“Uh-oh,” Kaitlyn says, muffled from behind Caroline’s hand. 

“You’re terrible at casual sex,” Caroline says, dropping her hand away. “Azzi, you are seriously bad at casual sex.”

“Azzi,” Kaitlyn says, horrifically sympathetic. “The two times you have tried to have casual sex have gone terribly. Please tell me you aren’t trying this again.”

“Tell a girl you want to die in her arms one time, and you get branded as bad at casual sex for life,” Azzi says. 

“It was two times,” Kaitlyn corrects, which is unhelpful. 

Azzi tips her neck backwards, stares at the patterns on her ugly ceiling. It had actually been three times, but she’s not going to volunteer that information. 

She had taken a cab home, alone, despite Paige’s slightly tipsy attempts to come with her. She had kissed her goodbye at the door, breathless and giggling, peppered small kisses across her face the way she had wanted to earlier, and then gotten in a cab and come home alone, pink with the rush of it.

“Third time’s the charm?” She tries instead. It doesn’t seem to be a comfort to anyone, much less herself. 

“It’s fine,” she says into the quiet. “Seriously. I’m not jumping into anything.”

Unbidden, an image of Paige’s face- smiling up at her, emotive and all, her hair splayed out against the carpet- flashes into her brain.

“You’re thinking something stupid,” Kaitlyn says, squinting at her. “I can see it in your eyes.”

“Don’t you have a house you need to go back to?” Azzi answers, tetchy.

Azzi’s sitting on a bench pulling her skates off of sore feet when Paige finally approaches her the next day, worn out after a long practice. Her fingers are trembling the lacing remaining stubbornly tight despite her efforts.

Its only when Paige steps in front of her and kneels to the ground taking Azzi’s ankle in one hand loosening the ties with the other that Azzi even notices her presence.

“How long have you been here?” she manages to ask her head feeling tight and too full, stuffed with cotton.

“A while” Paige says and adjusts her grip to pull the first skate off. “You’re really good.”

Azzi smiles, “I know.”

Paige finally looks up at her, blue eyes locking into her with a sort of amused irritation. “Of course you do.”

“Hey,” Azzi says, as Paige stands back up, passing her her skates. Paige looks down at her, and Azzi feels that awful shyness again, making her want to duck her head, hide behind her hair. She resolutely maintains eye contact. “About, I mean, you know. We can, um, keep it casual. The whole thing, I mean, we can just have it be, you know, part of the, um, situation.”

She’s babbling, unsure of what she’s saying or what she’s meaning to say, too afraid to break eye contact, as though Paige will disappear forever once she does. 

Paige smiles at her. “Do you want to add sex to your little rules list?”

“It’s not a rule,” Azzi says indignantly, the nervousness slipping easily away from her body. “It’s just, you know- if you want to.”

“Trust me,” Paige says, endearingly quickly. “I want to.” 

Azzi takes a second to process that, struck by the easy honesty, and then buries her head in her hands.

“Hey,” Paige says, nudging Azzi’s head with her hand. “You good?”

“You’re adorable,” Azzi says, lifting her face back up, slightly more heated than she would prefer. “I can’t stand you.”

She had meant to create some distance between the two of them today, a pre-emptive measure before the fluttering feeling in her chest became too big for Azzi to handle. Except, Azzi was beginning to realize that she missed Paige when she wasn’t around.

She had created a space for herself in Azzi’s life, so easily and quickly, filling an emptiness she hadn’t even realized was there. 

She’s still looking at Paige when a familiar figure brushes into her periphery. Jayden’s still got that terrible coat on, long and sweeping his ankles, heading towards Azzi like he’s got an agenda. One that involves asking Azzi multiple jagged little questions, that Azzi will inevitably have no answer for.

“Fuck,” Azzi murmurs, and grabs Paige’s elbow to yank her in front of her, a last-ditch attempt to hide herself. “Jayden’s here, pretend we’re, I don’t know-”

She cuts herself off when Paige sits down on the bench beside her, her back to the door, her face hovering next to Azzi’s, her hand covering the curve of Azzi’s jaw. 

The kiss is quick, a fleeting touch of lips that leaves Azzi wanting more, her eyelashes fluttering shut and then back open to where Paige is still so close to her. 

“Is he still watching?” Paige murmurs, lips against Azzi’s skin. An unpleasantness twists under Azzi’s skin, an unwelcome reminder that they’re only putting on a show.

Her eyes dart over Paige’s shoulder, to the entrance of the rink. It’s empty.

“Yes,” she lies, and pulls Paige’s face back towards her.

[asterafroditis]

𐔌 . ⋮ white day ♥︎ .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☓┆Second Years x gn! reader

𓏵 1212 words

ᝰ.ᐟ headcanons, no pronouns used, fluff

First years are done! Third Years coming up next! feel free to like, reblog, or comment!

ᝰ.ᐟ masterlist

When you hand Riddle a neatly wrapped box, he blinks in surprise.

"A gift? For me?" His fingers hesitate before accepting it, as if double-checking that this isn't some sort of trick.

You remind him that it’s White Day and that you’re simply returning the favor from Valentine’s. His ears turn slightly pink.

"I see... That is the proper etiquette, after all," he says, but there's a softness to his tone, a quiet kind of appreciation behind his formal words.

Carefully, he unwraps the gift, his movements precise and delicate. When he sees what’s inside, his lips part slightly before he quickly schools his expression.

"This is… quite thoughtful of you," he murmurs, touching the gift with the same care he’d give a treasured possession.

He clears his throat, composing himself. “I shall remember this. Next year, I will be sure to prepare something of equal value.”

He says it like a duty, but the way he keeps glancing at the gift—turning it in his hands as if memorizing every detail—tells you he’s truly touched.

─────────────────────────

“Hah? You actually got me somethin’?” Ruggie grins, but his eyes widen slightly as you pass him the box.

He twirls it in his hands, inspecting it from all angles. "Sheesh, you're really spoilin' me here. Thought I was the only one who knew how to make a good deal."

But the moment he opens the gift, his teasing pauses. His ears flick slightly, and he whistles under his breath.

“Whoa… This is real nice.” He looks up at you with an expression you don’t see often—genuine, quiet gratitude.

He chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck. “Guess I’ll owe ya next year, huh? Maybe I’ll find some rare snack to bribe ya with.”

But later, when he thinks no one’s looking, he tucks the gift away somewhere safe, a small, satisfied smile lingering on his lips.

─────────────────────────

Azul blinks when you present the gift, lips parting slightly before he quickly masks his surprise.

"My, my… how unexpected," he says, though the slight shift in his glasses suggests he wasn’t prepared for this.

He turns the box in his hands, his gaze calculating—like he’s trying to determine if this is some sort of negotiation tactic.

But when he opens it and sees what you’ve chosen, something in his expression softens.

“…I see. So this is how it feels to be on the receiving end of such generosity.” His voice is quieter, almost thoughtful.

He straightens up, regaining his composure. “You must allow me to repay this properly next year.”

But later, when he thinks no one is around, you catch him examining the gift again, fingertips tracing its edges with uncharacteristic gentleness.

─────────────────────────

"Oh? A gift for me?" Jade’s lips curl into an intrigued smile as he takes the box from your hands.

His mismatched eyes glimmer with amusement as he inspects the packaging. “How very considerate of you. I wonder… what could possibly be inside?”

He opens it with slow, deliberate movements, as if savoring the anticipation. When he sees the contents, his smile shifts into something softer—still amused, but undeniably pleased.

"How interesting," he muses. "I hadn't expected you to go through such effort for me."

His gaze flickers to you, watching your reaction with quiet curiosity. “It seems I’ll have to return the favor next year. I do hope you’ll look forward to it.”

You don’t know if that’s a promise or a threat. But later, you spot the gift tucked neatly among his prized possessions, well-kept and untouched by dust.

─────────────────────────

“EH? YOU GOT ME SOMETHIN’?!” Floyd practically yells when you hand him the box.

His excitement is immediate—he bounces on his heels, turning the gift over in his hands. “Ooooh~ What’s this? Is it fun? Is it tasty? Is it squishy?”

The moment he opens it, his expression shifts. For once, he doesn’t immediately react with teasing. Instead, he stares at it, mouth slightly open.

After a beat, he snickers. “Aw, Shrimpy, you’re really somethin’ else.”

Without warning, he throws an arm around you, squeezing just enough to make you stumble. “Now I gotta make next year fun for ya~ Maybe I’ll surprise ya~”

You have a feeling his idea of a ‘surprise’ might involve mild chaos. But later, you notice him showing off the gift to Jade with a proud grin, as if he’s boasting about a rare treasure.

─────────────────────────

Kalim gasps so loudly when you give him the box that a few people turn to look.

"WHAAAAT?! YOU GOT ME A GIFT?!" He’s practically bouncing on his feet, hands clasped around the box like it’s the most exciting thing in the world.

When he opens it, his eyes shine with pure delight. "Whoa!! This is amazing!! You're the best!!"

Before you can react, he pulls you into a tight hug, nearly lifting you off the ground. “I gotta get you somethin’ even better next year!! Just you wait!”

You remind him that White Day is about returning a favor, not starting an endless cycle of gift-giving. He just laughs. “Eh? But that’s no fun! Let’s make it a tradition!!”

Later, you spot him showing the gift to Jamil with the biggest smile, chattering excitedly about how thoughtful you are.

─────────────────────────

Jamil blinks when you hand him the box, brows furrowing slightly. “For me?”

You nod, reminding him that it’s White Day. He exhales softly, shaking his head with a smirk. “You really didn’t have to…”

But despite his words, he takes the gift with careful hands. He unwraps it smoothly, his usual air of nonchalance in place—until he actually sees what’s inside.

His fingers pause. His eyes soften just a fraction, dark lashes lowering slightly as he takes in the thoughtful gesture.

“…You really are something else,” he murmurs, barely loud enough to hear.

For a brief moment, his guard drops, and there’s something unspoken in his expression—something close to reluctant gratitude.

But then, in a blink, he straightens, composing himself with a casual chuckle. “Well… I suppose I’ll have to find a way to repay you next year.”

You tell him there’s no need, but later, you notice the gift tucked away somewhere safe, handled with a care that speaks louder than words.

─────────────────────────

When you hand Silver the box, he tilts his head, blinking slowly.

“A gift? For me?” His tone is genuinely confused, as if the idea of receiving something hadn’t even occurred to him.

You explain that it’s White Day, and realization dawns in his eyes. “Ah… I see. You’re returning the favor.”

He takes the box gently, his grip careful. As he unwraps it, his usual stoic expression softens slightly.

“This… is very kind of you,” he says, eyes lingering on the gift. There’s a rare warmth in his voice, a quiet sincerity that makes it clear he truly appreciates it.

He meets your gaze, a small, grateful smile tugging at his lips. “I’ll treasure this.”

And later, you catch him dozing off with the gift still in his hands, held securely even in sleep.

[bluemotifofsleep]

i’m not the one you want, babe.

roommate!toji fushiguro x reader

content: swearing, not beta read!

PS: please do not be fooled, gojo is one of my favourite characters of all time, i just have to be mean to him for a bit… for the plot…

chapter one: running away is easy, it’s the living that’s hard.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

gojo satoru is a self-righteous, condescending prick with a head so damn big you’re surprised it doesn’t just fucking blow up. you wish it would, sometimes.

and look, you’re not… petty, you just have a strong moral compass. there are certain things you’re willing to put up with, and things that you absolutely will not fucking stand for.

number one on that list of things is the so called “honoured one” pointing his stupid self-righteous finger in your face and telling you that you’re useless.

…well, he didn’t exactly say it like that. he had a much more roundabout, holier-than-thou way of saying things, but you’re good at reading between the lines.

because he’s your older brother, and you’ve been dealing with his bullshit for your whole damn life.

he just has this… way, of shitting on people without them realizing it. to the untrained eye it may look like praise, but when he stretches his face into that stupid smile and squints his blue eyes condescendingly, no amount of sugared words will stop you from seeing it as the big “fuck you” it really is.

truly, it pisses you off to no end. he gets to drag everyone else’s name through the dirt, while keeping his the same pristine white as his hair. he gets the fucking sixteen-tier, overdecorated, extravagant cake that is his cushy life, and he gets to eat it, too.

if the guy wasn’t your family and you hadn’t known him forever, you’d probably pray on his downfall more often. unfortunately you share blood and memories with him, so you only wish for his demise the normal, sibling amount

you’ve had lots of petty fights with him. hell, it was hard not to. as his younger sister you were always viewed as the softer, smaller, less significant gojo. living in his stupidly tall shadow, it was hard not to want to knock him down as many pegs as you could.

this fight, however, definitely took the cake. a full screaming match that ended in tears, with you packing your shit, and running the hell away.

yeah, maybe it was a bit dramatic, but being looked down upon your whole life because you were the little sister of the satoru gojo was fucking exhausting. you just needed space, that’s all. you needed time and room away from the gojo estate so you could breath, to stop feeling so damn trapped in your own lineage.

so, here you are, in a less-than-shabby apartment with a roommate you barely even know the name of.

toji fu…something? fujimoto? fukushima? whatever.

you probably should know more about the person you’re sharing a living space with, but in reality you barely see the back end of the guy heading out the front door. that’s all he does; come and go. in and out, all the time. you still don’t even know what he does for work. just that it’s something that has him leaving for days at a time, coming back looking slightly worse for wear, and then leaving again.

the main thing that drew you to this cheap ass place was… well, exactly that. it was cheap. that, and you could move in right away. the other apartments required a “background check” that left you hanging without somewhere to go, but toji obviously needed someone to pay the other half of the rent quick.

the description of the ad was “low rent, looking for a quiet roommate that pays bills on time” and while it may not have been the most attractive ad to most people, beggars can’t be choosers, right?

now toji fushi-whateverthefuck was honestly a pretty good roommate when compared to horror stories you’ve heard. he was fairly tidy save the occasional towel left on the ground and the messy ashtray on the balcony ledge. he never left any dirty dishes… and actually now that you think about it, you don’t think you’ve ever seen the guy cook before. you don’t really understand how he got enough sustenance to be that, well, beefy, for lack of a better word. somehow he fucking managed.

his size and prowess had scared you at first, because you’re not naive enough to think that you could ever take him in a fight. you’ve certainly seen enough true crime to see that it would fit his MO; young girl moves in, big scary man with the intimidating scar on his face likes stabbin’, and he buries her under the floorboards.

the only neighbours you have are the old, deaf woman to your right and the junkyard of a man (who you once saw smoking out of a crack pipe in the stairway) to the left who’s away for months at a time, so no one would hear you scream. then you’d be just another missing persons poster on a telephone pole people pass by without a glance, your image slowly being worn into the wood by the elements and eventually covered by other posters.

a fitting end for a runaway, probably.

while the possibility that he’s a murderer and he just really likes to take his time planning before he strikes is still there, he’s a lot nicer than you expected from his looks. which isn’t saying much, because really the gap between serial killer and the nice, deaf lady next door who bakes you bread sometimes is so large, he could fall anywhere in between.

yeah, nice isn’t really the right word for him. polite, maybe?

honestly, it’s more like a mutual agreement between a gazelle and a leopard by a watering hole; you stay on your side, and i’ll stay on mine.

from the almost predatory look of him, the wide set of his shoulders and the roguishly handsome way his face was put together, you expected something sinister to lurk beneath the surface. heck, men half as good-looking as him usually use their gift for evil, using their pretty privilege as a get-of-jail-free card. they think that because of their looks, they can behave however the fuck they want.

(a certain name comes to mind, something rhyming with dojo...)

so when you first eyed up six-foot-something of beefy muscle and the devilish face-card toji sported, you reasoned that something had to be horrifically wrong with him. as far as you could tell, he was single. and a man his age, with his wide set shoulders and wolfish smirk that could drop a woman’s panties from a mile away, wasn’t just single without something being clinically diagnosable about him.

at first, you were worried he’d be super macho and demand everything was done his way. maybe that your shower products were taking up too much space or your pink throw blanket you kept on the couch was too girly or that your music taste sucked.

and if he wasn’t mean… you were worried he’d fly too far past friendly and be some sort of creep, eyeing you up like a piece of meat and expecting something out of you just from proximity.

but he just…didn’t. he doesn’t do anything.

he gives you polite words if your paths happen to cross each other, wether that be in the kitchen, the balcony (where he smoked, and you enjoyed a cup of tea) or the couch to watch tv where he always offered the remote to you because he claimed he “didn’t give a shit��.

and yeah, most people would probably call that the bare minimum of what’s considered polite, but you found it intriguing.

sure he was gruff, rough around the edges, and when you’d first came to view the apartment he sat on the couch and watched them announce lotto numbers telling you to “knock yourself out” instead of giving you a proper tour, but the whole thing was attractive to you in some way.

your whole life, you were treated as a gojo. the daughter to two of the wealthiest people in the country and the sister of “the honoured one” or “the strongest”, or “the world’s most blue-eyed fuckhead” or whatever the hell the idiot went by these days. but with toji, you were just some girl (that he probably thought was an idiot for living in a banged up apartment with a possible serial killer) but really, that’s fine by you.

as interesting as toji was to you, you couldn’t really get a proper read on him. maybe that’s why you were so interested. he was like a dark pond that you couldn’t see the bottom of; you had no idea what lurked beneath, but his surface was incredibly alluring.

you wanted to dive right in.

~

you… are not a good cook.

growing up at the gojo estate, you never had to be. as embarrassing as it is to admit, you’ve always had people better trained than you to do it for you. which was all fine and dandy, when you still lived there.

but now…

“fuck!” the exclamation is yelled into the empty house as you burn yourself on the hot pan you were trying to use. key word: trying.

there’s smoke billowing out because the oil was…burning? how does that even happen? isn’t oil there so it doesn’t burn?

you were heating up the pan to try to cook an egg, because all you’ve been eating for the past couple of weeks is instant ramen and various raw vegetables easy for snacking on. you should probably give up on your culinary dreams though, because the pan looks as charred and depressing as you feel.

all you wanted was real food.

it was fine, at first, living off of “garbage food” as your family would call it. it was kind of refreshing to eat things you hadn’t been allowed to growing up, taking back some stolen part of your childhood when you craved junk food.

but now you were sick of it.

all you could think of was the good, home cooked meals you were fed regularly at the estate. sautéed vegetables, raw cuts of fatty tuna, seasoned riced, expensive and perfectly cooked wagyu beef… the thought of it all made your stomach growl as you tossed the soiled pan into the sink to soak, and grabbed some baby carrots from the fridge instead.

you absolutely would not admit you had made the wrong decision in leaving. and truly, you didn’t even think it either.

as depressing as your life had been for the past couple of weeks; spent with all your contacts on silent (because you just know satoru would blow the fuck out of your phone) and eating meals fit for a collage frat boy living off his last dime, you’re pride was more important.

you were proving a point. a point that put your livelihood on the line, your whole way of being. if you crumbled now you would just be giving up in battle of wills between you and your brother, something you were not willing to do for any cost.

you may have lost the genetic lottery by being born second, but you would not lose this.

you’ll stay eating baby carrots for breakfast and sitting on a shitty couch, watching shitty cable television (that your mother once told you would rot your brain out of your nose) to prove your point.

in the midst of a very shittily done action scene playing out on the grainy tv, a door opens from the hallway behind you.

toji must have snuck in last night again while you were sleeping. (you find yourself once again questioning what he does for work to have such a weird ass schedule, but then you think that you probably don’t want to know.)

to your surprise, instead of heading out onto the balcony to smoke like he usually does first thing, he plops down on the couch next to you, the springs squeaking under his weight.

despite sitting on the couch with him being a regular occurrence in your shared apartment, you still tense when he settles into the seat beside you. he takes up the space so easily, manspreading his giant thighs instantly and draping one of his beefy arms across the back of the couch. you try hard not to notice how your side of the couch is tilted towards him, his weight pulling you sideways, dragging you into his orbit.

when he rolls his head to the side to stare you down, you freeze like a deer trying to camouflage into a forest background, hoping to not get caught by the apex predator stalking it. his eyes are like two headlights, digging into your primal instinct to freeze.

“mornin’.” it’s just one word, barely a greeting, but the sleep-induced gravel in his voice drags across your skin anyways, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

“good morning.” you’ll play this feeling inside of you off for as long as you have to, until you stop feeling it. you pop another carrot into your mouth to stop from saying anything else.

he leans over you, staring into the bowl that harbours your poor excuse for a breakfast and twists his face up in disgust.

“you’re going to turn orange if you keep eating carrots for every meal. what are you, a damn bunny?”

you snort. “that’s just a myth, you know.”

he smirks, and just like every other time he does, it twists something in your stomach up into a knot.

“nah,” his expression turns serious for a second, as he scrutinizes your rapidly heating face. “in fact, i think it’s happening already.”

“what?!” you scramble out of the sunken-in couch, running to check yourself in the bathroom mirror. when you do, you scowl and yell out a “jerk!” as toji cackles nefariously from the living room.

you’re not orange, in the slightest. in fact, your face is bright red.

toji fushiguro was polite in most ways, but he loved to tease.

deciding you’ve had enough teasing for one day, you head back to your room instead of returning to the couch.

~

that night, the power in the apartment goes out.

a transformer had exploded up the street, causing a large outage across the neighbourhood. the second the loud boom! had hit and the lights flickered and then vanished all together, fear had gripped you tightly.

you’re not… scared of the dark, per say. it’s just being alone, alone with your thoughts, sitting in a dark room that scares you.

your phone was pretty much useless without wifi, so you scrambled for something, anything to do to keep your mind busy, to keep from feeling so terribly alone.

~

you feel… stupid. silly, even, like a child that had a nightmare seeking comfort from a grown up.

you’re standing outside of toji’s door, with your hand raised, but no courage to knock.

it was stupid. you were being stupid. it’s just the dark, you’ll be fine. the power should be on in a couple of hours. you’ll survive, right?

just as you’re about to turn and retreat back to your room, toji’s door opens and you’re suddenly face to face (face to chest?) with him.

“what is it? you’ve been standing outside my door for the past five minutes like a little creep.” the words would sound angry to anyone else, but you’ve spent enough time around him to know that’s just how he speaks.

it’s one of the things that draws you to him, how he never feels the need to sweeten his words. he doesn’t limit himself with things like politeness and niceties, he just says what he needs to say.

right now though, you would appreciate some decorum.

“i um… wanted to know… sorry, it’s stupid. i’ll leave you alone.” but as you turn to leave, he heaves a giant sigh like he’s pained.

“stop whining like a baby and say what you want.”

jesus… so no decorum, then.

“…do you want to play uno with me?”

~

the cards look comically small in his large hands…

you were both in the living room, using the coffee table and some candles to play the riveting, timeless game that is uno. it was one of the few things that you had brought with you from home, distant memories of playing with satoru as a kid and getting in physical fights over it flickering across your mind.

the thoughts made your chest ache, but that’s why you’re here with toji, right? to stop thinking about it so damn much.

“pick up four, and i change the colour to… blue.” toji growls at your words, a scowl painting his features periodically lit up by candle light. he picks up four cards from the deck painfully slow, making a deal out of each one and pouting like a baby.

you hadn’t expected him to be so… competitive.

honestly, you hadn’t expected him to say yes in the first place. maybe a laugh in your face proceeded by his door slamming or even just a simple look of disgust, not the grumbled “okay” that he gave you as he followed you to the living room.

it was… weird, doing something so mundane with him.

toji looked like a creature built to kill. there was something brutal and dangerous about the way he carried himself, the words he spoke and the voice he spoke them in.

it felt like using a loaded handgun as a spoon for your cereal.

you giggle at the thought, but then you’re staring down the barrel of the actual handgun that is toji fushiguro’s glare.

“you ain’t gonna be laughing for long, brat.” and then in a jaw dropping display of utter brutality, he puts down three of his gathered pickup-four cards and two pickup-twos, leaving him with nothing in his hand. how was that even possible?

“you jerk! i only had two cards left.” you whine and toss your cards into the pile on the table.

“yeah, that’s what happens when you mess with me, kid.” he puts his recently emptied hands behind his head, smirking down at you like someone who had just one at poker and took home the largest pot ever, not a meek game of uno.

truthfully, you’re uninterested in wining or losing. his company was so alluring to you, that it was entertainment in itself. like watching a leopard at the zoo, relaxed in his own element. his broad shoulders melting into a bulging bicep stretched over his head, his toned chest peeking through his shirt-

“so,” fuck. you jump like you’ve been caught ogling him, poking the glass of his enclosure when there were clearly signs not to. “i’ve been meaning to ask, what are you running away from, kid?”

what?

you gape at him like a fish trying to breath air, completely dumbfounded by his question. he couldn’t mean-

“you think i’m stupid or somethin’?” he’s leaning over the table now, the leopard tapping back at the glass that separated you. you feel hunted.

“cute little rich girl gets her panties in a twist, stomps her feet, and runs away from home, ive seen it all before. m’just surprised you’ve lasted this long, honestly.”

you feel like a bug that’s been pinned to a cork board for examination, spread out and exposed. your inner turmoil and darkest guilts have been torn out of you to lay bleeding and squirming on the coffee table.

“how the hell did you figure that out?” your words are borderline suspicious, borderline accusing.

if he was some kind of freak, you were going to make a break for the front door. though you’ll have to slip right by his large arm span to do that, so you’ll have to be quick about it-

he laughs like he’s amused by the clear discomfort on your face.

“relax. i just pay attention, is all.” he’s got an easy smirk on his face, and he doesn’t look nefarious in any way, so you relax your shoulders a bit.

“you don’t have a job, and yet all of your shit is fancy. you’re always bringing home groceries that you don’t know how to cook properly, expensive crap with the word organic pasted all over it, so you clearly have expensive taste, and yet you picked one of the shittiest apartments on the market. most definitely so you could move in right away, right?”

wow. you feel sort of bad for underestimating his observation skills. this whole time you felt like you were spectating him, but clearly it was the other way around.

he leans in again, his easy smirk and sea green eyes lit up by the candlelight, making him look almost supernaturally pretty.

“so you’re running, but from what?”

suddenly, all the tension you’ve been carrying spills out of you like water from a squeezed sponge. you let out a sigh that collapses your chest, your whole body sinking with it.

~

[pallisia]

more batch asks

thank you every. cut for spoilers

Anonymous asked:

I know you've made a lot of jokes about "you have to be nice to me" and "you've signed the contract" but I am honestly so happy to see a dark, truly cruel character like ysme portrayed in the way you've written her. when you think she won't go lower she sweeps you from a hole under your feet. the swap between perspectives and how others view her makes her actions that much more shocking and enthralling. it's a complete blast to read and makes her such an interesting character. in a time when it feels like more and more writers are wary of making characters too "mean" and the demand for mass appeal can lead to creative limitations to keep viewers engaged, ysme is a breath of fresh air. I love evil girls but even my jaw was on the floor.

thank you very much. but the contract is still in effect

@adair-trashart asked: i have the new soulsov update downloaded im planning on showing it to my other adult friends once our schedules line up >:33333333333

yay! i hope you all have fun.

@braveswordwielder asked:

Hey Soulsov 2 good Thanks for breaking new ground in the talking animals genre

thank you very much. i don't know if i'm breaking new ground exactly, but i'm glad you enjoyed.

Anonymous asked:

I love how past some point ysmé is the kind of person that's exactly the kind of person she says she is, and both her words and actions reflect that, yet still some part of me like Loic wants to see something that most likely is not there. I love every time this happens she rips my heart out and laughs about it. and then it happens again. I love soulsov.

thank you. please look forward to it.

@mobi-gg asked:

Ok I know I signed the contract so I have to go thru with it anyway, but I really do like how you are writing Ysme and her dynamic with Loic. Like she's done some very cruel shit this chapter, but I want to know why she's like this. How much of it is her true nature, how much is a facade or her strategy for rebelling and getting what she wants. Is there some kindness underneath it all in the end? Is it foolish to hope for such a thing? Truly I am acting like Loic rn. As for the rest of the chapter. Amazing. Everyone is so charming and lovable (even Ysme with her.. everything). The music and art were delightful and the pacing??? wow.

thank you so much. i love that this is the same sentiment as the previous ask. i'm glad she's compelling in spite of everything.

Anonymous asked:

Not only am I not mad, I am absolutely delighted by the contents of chapter 2. Good and “bad” alike, the writing is exhilarating, the chemistry between the characters is unparalleled, and adoration of all the art easily doubled my read time. Every time I see the New Friend I spend a solid minute on the verge of tears for my love, I am hoping Ysme gets even worse, I’m ready to see Loic be broken, and also additionally when I got to the “fishing” I thought it was a reference to the World of Ruin fishing mechanic in FF6 and I was TERRIFIED by it but it WAS really funny

thank you very much. i should have added an invisible timer that killed loic offscreen if you took too long.

@notactuallyahat asked:

Chapter 2 was fantastic, thank you so much for creating it! The 'if order has no place for you' line made me tear up a little, and I am amazed how Ysme continuing to be herself and behaving in exactly the way she has always said she will still somehow felt surprising and was very much an emotional gut punch. 10/10, can't wait to reread it also I didn't realize the fishing minigame was just a fishing minigame so my first response was to immediately save in a mild panic

thank you. see! without a fishing minigame, when else would you think to save. it's game design baby

Anonymous asked:

chapter 2 was great. thank you as always for sharing. the tonal shifts between ysmes omnipotence as sexy and fun vs utterly abject are really affecting. very much looking forward to the future horrors. cheers!

thank you for reading!

@fluffycattens asked:

Ysmé......... I thought she was a fun character after chapter 1 but now that I've finished chapter 2 I'm rotating her in my mind, what a cool and normal woman (she's awful and I love her) Thoughts and theories and impatience to learn more about her and the world, your storytelling and in particular your worldbuilding is so good!

thanks so much! please continue rotating her. i will do the same.

@rarmaster asked:

finished chapter 2 and immedaitely sent it to my friends who LOVE women's wrongs. also: wow this was great. i am fondly rotating the prose and dialogue around and around in my heart. your words are just so very good and i like to read them. i also love to see your art, too, of course, so every CG was a treat. ball………. also oh my god (had no idea about tutu's everything and am really basking in it right now) Oh My God.

thank you! i kind of spoiled tutu for longtime followers by posting art of her years ago, but i'm glad she ended up being a total surprise for a lot of readers. i'm glad she is loved.

Anonymous asked:

i don't think i'm going to see the phrase "unrequited love" the same way ever again. masterful stroke with the prose descriptions of pansies and specifically witchgaze: flower that means forcing heartbreak on someone. flower that means forcing shame and obedience. flower that cracks your brain open and pours in self-hatred.

thank you. the witchgaze's meaning went through a lot of different iterations before ending up there. not that we'll ever see it again or anything lol, but if we did i'd say "please look forward to it"

Anonymous asked:

flower that means you broke my heart... flower that means i got really attached to loic and his former [spoiler character]... flower that means kiss him gently he deserves so much better than what he has right now... flower that means i signed the contract and i'm already excited for chapter three!

flower that means yay

[charliespoorasshole]

hating this trend of all the choices i make in games resulting in the worst ending

[fogwitchoftheevermore]

girl help. secret life bigb. i am thinking about him again.

[transthatmasc]

I love the concept that Viktor ends up with Jayce’s last name through some originally non-romantic means so much that I have multiple versions.

Jayce accidentally gives Viktor his last name by being so insistent on putting Viktor’s name first in every circumstance. When he’s listing their names on anything he puts them down as “Viktor and Jayce Talis”. When he introduces them to people he says “Nice to meet you, this is Viktor and I’m Jayce Talis” with a pause before Talis because he always forgets that he should say his house name too. Viktor slowly starts to notice that they’re referred to in the tabloids as “the Talises” and that higher ups at the academy will introduce him to investors as “Viktor Talis” without Jayce even being there.

When they first start working together, they put their initials next to things in their shared notes to mark when they have questions or agree with something the other wrote, or to differentiate when someone is dictating while the other talks. In an effort to not have it confused with a variable, Viktor initials VT (VikTor) as a bit of a joke to look similar to Jayce’s JT. However, one day when Heimerdinger is looking over their notes, he marks out a question in the margin for Viktor with “Viktor Talis” written out next to it in full. Viktor and Jayce debate for a moment after he leaves if it was supposed to mean it was for both of them, but the contents of the question makes it entirely clear that Heimerdinger things VT stands for Viktor Talis and has accepted that Viktor has adopted Jayce’s last name with no questions.

At the beginning of Hextech, as they are trying to get investors, Viktor regularly gets identified as being from the undercity and harassed for it by wealthy Pilties when he tells them his name is “just Viktor” when asked what house he is from. So one day Jayce suggests just telling investors that his last name is also Talis, thinking that people will assume they are brothers. Viktor gets flustered and tries to politely decline, but Jayce seems to confident that he lets it happen. It takes him weeks to figure out that Jayce doesn’t realize that everyone thinks they’ve gotten married or plan to. Viktor doesn’t have the heart to tell him and won’t let Mel break the illusion.

Jayce takes Viktor on a tour of the forge and when he gets done takes a hammer to jokingly knight him and dub him “officially part of house Talis” Jayce thinks nothing of it until the next time they meet someone new together when he almost spits out his drink hearing Viktor introduce himself as “Viktor Talis”

Some investor that they fucking hate can’t keep their names straight for some reason but always sees Jayce wearing his house sigil so he says “ah, Viktor Talis” every time he sees Jayce. They find it so fucking funny that even just saying “Viktor Talis” sends them into uncontrollable laughter.

Ximena refers to them exclusively as “my boys” to the point that most people who met her after Hextech was founded assume that she has two sons, Jayce Talis and Viktor Talis. She doesn’t feel the need to correct them as she does truly love them both as her children and is also quietly hoping one day Jayce will get his head out of his ass and ask Viktor out on a date.

[beloveds-embrace]

Idgaf abt how military works sorry yall but imagine the 141 gang having to do mandatory charity and no, not even Ghost can opt out of it regardless of how he says he’s honest to god not fucking fit to be visiting sick patients. But alas.

But they end up meeting you- frail, fragile, and sick you, no visitors around you. Though you look at them with curiosity and admiration, you keep yourself away, almost as if you don’t want to bother them.

You can’t help looking at them, though. You’ve been sick all your life- born to a mother who left you on the doorsteps of an overcrowded orphanage, left alone often and long for your body to just… fail you. You don’t think you’ve seen outside the orphanage walls and then these hospital grounds since your birth. You would be dead now if it weren’t for the CEO of the hospital taking pity on you after you turned eighteen and the orphanage cleaned their hands off you.

And so, you can’t help but envy them just a little. Strong, agile people in the military, bodies fit and healthy. Despite knowing they are always putting themselves on the line, constantly in danger, you can’t help the longing you feel. Longing you don’t realize is clear as day in your eyes.

The one to approach you first is the man you thought one of the prettiest men you’ve ever seen. He introduces himself as Kyle, and despite your silence- your interactions with others that are not doctors or nurses are far and few, and you are painfully shy- but he is nice. Gentle. Easily keeps the conversation going despite. He is so easy-going he has you grinning and laughing in no time. It catches the attention of a the Scot with a mohawk, who joins in by sharing even wilder stories. And then the man with the scary ghost mask, so often in their stories, comes to your little crowd. He is big, scary if the nurses’ reactions are anything to go by, and yet the only thing you’ve ever truly been afraid of is dying with a life not truly lived. So you don’t flinch or cower from him, merely ask if he has anything interesting to share with you.

The last you speak with is John Price. Captain John Price. If there is a man that can embody a bear, it has to be him. You are sure of it. Especially when you witness him smacking the back of Kyle’s head lightly after a teasing comment.

Maybe your chances of a long, fulfilling life are slim but today, just for today, you allow yourself to envision a life with them. Such a strange desire, a useless and wistful one.

“Thank you, for today.” You tell them quietly, when it’s nearing time to leave. Your hands are held in Kyle and Johnny’s, frail and weak compared to theirs. You smile at them, squeezing lightly. “I think this is the most happy and content I’ve been all my life. I won’t forget today.”

And in return? Neither will they. How could they ever forget you, the sweetheart in the hospital bed, your sickness keeping you away from the joyful life you deserve?

The won’t forget you. Not at all. And when you start receiving gifts, polaroids and letters and texts, you already know who is sending them to you.

It makes things just a little easier- your life just a little brighter.

Other works + help me choose a title for this!

[cryptictongues]

The Thrill of the Chase

pairing: Logan Howlett x Female Mutant!Reader rating: Explicit (MINORS DNI; 18+) word count: 7.1K summary: Logan ate part of your sandwich, so you stole his cigars. Things turn out differently from what you were expecting.

warnings: fluff and smut, teasing, slight predator/prey trope, banter, making out, dirty talk, oral (f and m receiving), vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, squirting, soft!dom Logan

Author's Note: My first Logan fic! X-Men used to be my world and the fact it is making a comeback has rejuvenated me. Also, I was picturing Logan from the first three trilogies but DOFP!Logan also crossed my mind so :)

Please read my pinned post before following me! Minors and ageless blogs will be blocked as this blog’s content is NSFW.

[AO3 link]

It was getting close to evening, everyone doing their own thing to unwind after a long day of classes and teaching. You had planned to do the same thing, planning to grab a quick bite in the kitchen before getting ready to relax in your room. You were whipping up a quick and easy sandwich, assembling it onto a plate before moving it to the island in the middle of the kitchen. You went to get a soda from the cupboard, only for your skin to raise as you sense something is about to happen: a certain someone was about to come take your sandwich. 

“If you take one bite out of my sandwich Logan, I will kick your ass.”

You turn to see him, eyes wide along with his mouth, about to chomp into your dinner. He closes his mouth, only for him to keep the sandwich in his hands and an “innocent” smile on his face. 

“Oh, you mean this sandwich?” 

You shut the cupboard door, walking over to him with a stern, playful look. You know he is messing with you. That has been the dynamic of your relationship with him. Ever since he decided to stay here at the school and join the X-Men, you two have grown closer and closer, enjoying each other’s company over anyone else. It didn’t matter what either of you did. You both thrived in the presence of one another. 

But something that has become common practice as of late was playful in nature. You both have always teased, but it has recently ramped up. If one of you started it, the other would find a way to end it before starting again. It was the push and pull between the two of you that you loved, and it has only made you long for him. You want to believe he feels the same, but even your mutation of precognition can’t fully confirm that. 

“Yes, that is my sandwich. I worked very hard on it. I'll have you know.” You are standing in front of him now, having to look up at him slightly as you wait for his next move. 

“I’m sure you did. It looks delicious.” He says, but rather than looking at the food, he is looking right at you. Cheeky bastard.

“Y-yeah, which is why I am asking you to put it down so I may enjoy it.” 

“I don’t know. I think I wanna have a taste first.” 

His hazel eyes are staring you down, almost begging for you to make a move. In reality, you really didn’t care if he ate it. You could easily make another and enjoy dinner with him. But you know that isn’t what he is doing right now. He is playing with you, wanting to rile you up. Well, it takes two to play that game.

“That sandwich is very precious to me. I’d think before you act.”

“Oh yeah?” He smirks, bringing his face closer to yours. “What are you going to do about it?”

“I’ll take something precious of yours.” 

He chuckles, turning his face to the sandwich. “I’d like to see you try, sweetheart.”

He takes a huge bite out of your sandwich, his eyes closing as he chews. You purse your lips, watching him savor your meal with gusto. You know he is overexaggerating to truly get at you, but little does he know you have a trick up your sleeve.

“Enjoying my meal?” 

He turns back to you, swallowing before licking his lips. “Very much. I may have to take another bite.”

You get up in his space, settling onto your tippy toes so your face is by his ear. You let your breath waft against his skin, causing a shiver to shake his core. You can tell he is anticipating what you will do, always highly enjoying your responses to his antics. Oh, he is so in for it.

“That’s okay. You can have it.” You let your pointer finger trace his collarbone that is very much on display from his white, fitted tank. “And you want to know why that is, Logan?”

He takes a deep breath, very apparent that your actions are doing something to him. His left hand lets go of the sandwich to settle on your hip, squeezing the flesh slightly to ground himself. It is actions like that that make you believe you do something to him. Like you drive him just as insane as he does to you. You bring your left hand to his head, pulling him down so you can really get into his ear. 

“That’s because I know where you keep your special cigars from Cuba, and I am going to take them.”

You couldn’t have run fast enough. You are already shooting for the stairs, taking two steps at a time as you speed to his room. You knew it had taken him a second to realize what had happened because by the time you got to his floor, you heard him yelling your name. 

You burst into his room, locking it quickly. It was only to buy some time, for you knew he had a key. You were giggling as you went to his bookcase, plucking out the blue, hardcover history book. You open it, and smile as you see the unopened cigars there in the deep hole where text used to be. Just as you close the book, you hear heavy footsteps reach the door and a jingle of keys.

You panic, needing to find a way out before he opens the door. You could run around him, but you needed a head start. You could hide and wait for him to leave but you knew he’d sniff you out. There was only one option left, and that was to go out his bedroom window. You hear the key enter the lock, and with a quickness you didn’t think you had, you unlocked his window and flung it open. Just as the door busted open, you crawled out. You grasped onto the ivy that clung to the school’s exterior and began to climb down. 

“Oh, when I get my hands on you, you are in for it!”

You look up to see Logan’s head popping out the window. He has a scowl on his face, but you could see the wild look in his eyes. You knew he was enjoying this, for he loves the chase.

“This is for taking my sandwich!” You yell, and continue making your descent. 

You hear the window close, which makes you go faster, knowing he is rushing down those stairs to meet you at the bottom. You could sense that he would go to the front door, so once your feet touch the grassy floor you run to the back door. Opening it quickly, you determine your next move. He is probably at the front, ready to intercept you, giving you the opportunity to hide somewhere. 

You rush to the hallway where many of the classes are held. You run into the first classroom you see, its door already open. You see the large oak desk at the back of the classroom, and quietly walk up to it. It has a space for leg room, so with haste you crawl in it, pulling the chair in carefully to not make any sound. 

Your heart was racing, adrenaline thrashing as you hid. You try to steady your breath, trying to keep quiet. The atmosphere has become eerie, the silence defying as you try to keep it that way. You try to listen for any other sounds over your pounding heart, when another wave of cognition hits you. You can see it clearly, where he finds you under the desk, hands on either side to block you in. You know you need to move on, so you go to move the chair, but you suddenly halt when you hear his voice boom nearby.

“Where is she?” 

You cover your mouth, trying to hold in your breathing as well as the gasp that almost shot from your mouth. His voice was coated in gravel, and absolutely primal. Even from afar, it was clear he was worked up, and it made you embarrassingly wet. 

You hear footsteps enter the hallway, heavy boots against the shiny wooden floor. At first, you think you may have a way out, hearing him pass the room you were in, but you aren’t so lucky because you hear him stop. You grip onto the book and your mouth, even though you know it will do absolutely nothing. You know he senses you, and it is confirmed when you hear footsteps enter the room. You hear him inhale deeply, exhaling with sigh only to turn into a deep rumble. 

“I know you are here.” He is slow in taking his steps, and each step gets closer and closer to your hiding place. 

He sniffs deeply again, growling this time around like he was a wild animal. “No point in denying it. I could smell you the second I walked into the hall.”

You know he will find you, and he will block you in. So you decide to take a risk before he closes in on you. You push the chair out far enough to crawl out, before standing up behind the desk. You put your hands up with the book in your left one, trying to show off a sign of surrender. 

“You have nowhere to go, dollface. No point in trying’ to run for I’ll snatch you up real quick.” 

“You must really want your cigars back to block me in like this.” 

He steps even closer, with him now standing right in reach of the book. He could easily grab it and take it, for he is much stronger than you. But he doesn’t make a move, staying glued to his new spot. You don’t know what’s running through his head, his eyes trained on you. It isn’t until he places his hands onto the desk that you take a step back and drop your hands. 

“You’re wrong.”

You raise a brow, not sure what he is getting at. “What do you mean?”

He smirks, leaning his body over the desk. “It isn’t the cigars I’m after. Not anymore.”

Your heart is in overdrive. You know the answer, it is becoming obvious. But you ask anyway. “Then what are you after, Lo?”

“I think you know the answer. Now it is a matter of will you let me take what’s mine.”

You want to give in. You are becoming more aroused by the second, but you are starting to really enjoy the chase. Seeing how much it gets him going, to see this side of him, only makes you want to push him more. You want to see what he will do, especially when he gets his hands on you.

You walk around the desk, book of cigars still in hand, getting closer to him until you are toe to toe with him. “What’s the fun in surrendering?”

He quickly blocks you in, the desk pressed against your back. He has the most seductive, but feral grin upon his lips, like he thinks he has won his prize. His head leans down to yours, forehead against forehead, before he whispers his next sentence against your lips.

“The fun is in what follows.”

His lips are on yours, desperate and needy. You can’t help the moan that leaves your throat, mind going hazy as his lips devour. You have craved him for so long, you want this to last forever. However, you cannot give into him like this. You will not make this easy for him.

One of your hands goes to the hem of his tank, fingers lingering before going under. He feels so solid, the coarse hairs on his tummy spread thick as you go to his left side. You can feel him shudder over you, and you try to hold back the smirk that wants to curve onto your lips. You move your fingers sporadically over the left side of his ribcage, causing him to jump back. This gives you the chance to run like hell.

“Hey! That’s unfair!” You hear him yell and it makes you giggle profusely. You must thank Jean later for letting you in on that little secret; that the broody, grumpy man with the metal bones was insanely ticklish. You wish you could turn to see his full reaction, but you are too determined.

You can hear him running right behind you, and you have never been more aroused. You shouldn’t feel so turned on by Logan chasing you around, but the thrill of the chase was seeping into your loins and you were addicted. 

More people had shown up around the school, meeting with friends to study or hang out for the evening. You were dodging people left and right, and everyone looked perplexed as they saw Logan charging his way towards you. Many of them probably assumed it had to do with the book you were holding, and while they would have been originally right, they are no longer even close. 

You don’t have time to hide again, not with him so close behind. You make it back to the stairs, hauling ass as you try to make it to your room. You can hear him right behind you, breathing heavily and grunting with each step. Your room is at the end of the hall, and you are basically flying with how fast you are running. The second you reach the door, you swing it open and throw yourself in before slamming it. You had gotten it shut, mentally pumping your fist in victory, but by the time you went to turn the lock, it was too late. The door flies open, sending you back a couple feet back as Logan stands at the door's entrance. 

“I have you right where I want you. No more running.”

If looks could kill, you’d be ash. He enters your room, closing the door behind him with his eyes staying on you. He takes one step forward, with him now hovering over your smaller form. The way he is looking at you makes your knees faint, for you felt you could hear what he was revealing with his stare. 

“I still know your weakness, Logan.” You smirk, holding the book up to your face to dodge any attack he was planning. It is pointless, you know, but it is the best defense you’ve got. 

“Do you now?” He walks towards you, in step with you as you go backwards. The back of your knees hit the edge of your bed, telling you that you truly have nowhere else to go. He is right on you, grinning now that he has the upper hand. 

“I’m afraid that book won’t save you from me.” He snatches the book, tossing it to the side of the bed. 

You are in for it. You don’t know what he is planning, and the element of surprise has overcome you. However, with the way he is looking at you, you guarantee that what is about to happen will be just as exhilarating as when he was hunting you down. 

“What do you plan to do with me, hm?” You let your fingertips walk along his chest, dancing all the way down to his side like you did earlier. 

He is quick to grab your hand, bending down to lift you up in his arm before tossing you onto the bed, following swiftly as he pins both hands above your head. 

“Don’t even think about it. I know you all too well.” He growls through his teeth. “As for what I plan on doing, what’s the fun in telling when I can just show you. Would you like that?”

You simply nod, breathless at how he is handling you. However, that wasn’t good enough for him, as he takes hold of your wrists in one hand so his other one can grip your chin.

“I wanna hear you say it, pretty girl.”

You huff, getting frustrated already that he is dragging this out. With your legs still free, you wrap them around his hips, your heels digging into his back causing him to grunt. Your lips are practically on his, faint contact making you antsy. “Show me what you’ve been wanting to do with me.”

Your lips are squashed by his instantly, hunger and desperation clear. His hands go to your thighs, grabbing at the flesh. With your hands free, they go straight to his hair, gripping and tugging on it which causes him to moan hotly into your mouth. 

His hands travel up to the hem of your blouse, pushing the fabric up past your stomach before his hands go under. You moan at the contrast, rough hands, that have been through so much running along your unmarred body. He swallows what you give him, groaning happily at the effects he was causing.

You are in heaven. You never thought you would be here like this with Logan. You never thought you would be under him at his complete mercy. It makes a shiver travel down your spine, traveling right to your core that is a heated mess because of the man before you. To be with the man you have pined for is riveting, and you could cry that he seems to return those feelings.

You don’t know what triggers your mutation, but it is sudden. Your vision goes blurry, a strong aura surrounding you. It is overwhelming, a whimper bubbling from your throat as you see what is about to happen. Logan releases your lips with a grunt, looking at you intensely as you start to shake. You feel his rough hands cup your soft cheeks, stroking them gently. 

Your cheeks feel hot, your vision turning you into a horny mess. Your hands grip onto Logan’s chest trying to ground yourself to reality. It’s too much. Your visions rarely last long for they are just snippets of future events, but this was different. It was as if you were in a trance, and could feel everything he was doing to you. You don’t know if it is your heightened emotions, especially with him right on you. All you knew is that pleasure was present, and you were starting to fall apart. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” You can hear his demeanor change, worry laced in his tone.

“Fuck,” you couldn’t help but moan, unable to control yourself. “I can feel everything, Logan.”

There is a pause, hands still touching your face. A few beats later, he lets his right hand go down, only to stop at your thigh squeezing tightly. 

“Tell me what you see, baby.” 

The rumble in his voice intensifies everything, causing you to grip onto him tighter. “Oh God please don’t make me say it out loud.”

You try to look away, but his left hand shifts so it is grabbing your chin. He forces your head back up, bringing his face down to yours like he had in the classroom. His breath fans over your lips, taking in the way they move as sounds leave them. 

“I’m fucking you, aren’t I? Making you lose yourself on my cock? Is that what you are seeing?”

You can barely talk, too enthralled in your vision. You grab the hand that is on your thigh and bring it to the top of your black pants. Logan gets the idea and angles it so he can slide his hand into them. His fingers brush over the fabric, feeling the damp spot that has formed drastically. You hear him curse under his breath, the vibrations hitting your lips as they brush against one another without full pressure. 

“Oh sweetheart, you are so wet.” He murmurs, pulling his hand out to bring it up to his nose, inhaling deeply before releasing a sound so feral that you could sob. “And you smell so fucking good.” 

You can’t help but nod, not knowing how to respond. All you know is that you need him. Need him to take you on your bed and do whatever he wants to you. You’ll take anything he is willing to give you, for all you want is for him to make himself known to you. 

His hand had gone back down to your crotch, cupping your pussy through the material. “Does she want more attention?”

“Logan, please do something.” You choke, your mind steadily coming back to reality, but still not fully letting go. You start to grind down on his palm, desperate for anything he will give you, but he removes his hand, going to the back of your head to grip tightly.

Damn him!

“I know she deserves something, but do you? Do you deserve me after getting me so worked up like that?”

“Logan, I am begging.” You cry out in frustration, your nails digging into his chest causing him to groan lowly. “I want you. God, I’ve always wanted you so please take what’s yours!”

He is back on you, kissing you till the air in your lungs dissipates. He starts to kiss away from your swollen lips, kissing down to your neck. He nips at your pulse point, going up to your ear to give it a light lick before going back down. With every kiss, he takes a deep breath in, which only makes him get more aggressive. Soft kisses turn to an open mouth lather to nips that could have easily broken the skin.

“I don’t think you know what your scent does to me. It draws me in every time.” He bites down particularly hard at your collar bone, and you wouldn’t be surprised if blood had come to the surface. 

His hands come back up to the front of your blouse, carefully unbuttoning the garment before revealing your breasts that are almost spilling out of your bra. His hands mold over the cups, squeezing hard and slow as he makes his way to your sternum. 

He is being so gentle with you, a complete 180 from how you thought this was going to go. He was so rough with you in your head, fucking you until you couldn’t even say a word. This side of him was endearing, but you crave more from him.

“For someone so feral for me, you sure are taking your time.”

He bites the top of your left breast, making you gasp at the sudden pain. “I don’t think you are ready for that side of me, dollface.”

Your right hand goes to his head, taking a handful of his hair and yanking his head up. You know he wants to absolutely ravish you, and if it’s some convincing he needs, some convincing he is going to get. 

“When I said to take what’s yours, I meant it. I want you to make me beg until I’m dumb, so fucking do it.”

“Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you, Princess.”

His hands go under your top from the back, unclipping your bra before letting them resurface. He starts to yank your top off from the shoulders, only to smack your thigh that causes a light sting.

“Arch that back for me.”

You do as he says, allowing him to take the rest of your top off along with your bra. He flings them both across the room, only to do the same with his tank. You’ve seen his upper body plenty of times, as there would be instances in which he disregards it for a training session. But this? This was very different. It’s a different atmosphere, and rather than everyone getting an eye full of his muscular, hairy body, it is now for your eyes only. 

He’s looking down at you, pupils flared as he takes you in. You shiver as his palms stroke your tummy, slowly going up until they encompass your breasts. Your nipples pebble from the rough texture of his skin, and you can see it excites him. So much so that he takes the opportunity to take your nipples between his fingers and pulls them gently with a pinch. Your back bows off the mattress, adoring the pain he is providing, and let out a mewl as he lets go to run his thumbs over the tender peaks.

“You sound so good,” Logan murmurs. “I need to hear more.”

His right arm goes under your back to keep you up, holding you there as his mouth goes to your left breast. He takes your nipple into his mouth, sucking with his eyes still on you. Your cheeks flush, head tilting to the side to avoid looking at him. It’s too much. It’s too fucking much. 

Whimpers slip from your mouth, his treatment of your breasts making you want to rub your thighs together to soothe the ache, but he keeps your legs open. He eventually does the same to your other breast, working to match the work he left on your other nipple: hard, and tainted red.

He lets up, sitting on his knees as he unbuttons your pants, hands sliding the material down your legs in earnest. He tosses your heels off before stripping away your bottoms, and he hums as he admires the black, lacy thong you adorn. 

“Fuck,” he snaps the elastic, eyes entranced. “You sure you didn’t see this coming earlier? Wearing something sexy like this?”

“They work better with my pants.” You huff, his fingers lightly running along your covered slit.

“Hmm, no wonder your ass looked so good today.” He grins. “But this pussy? I could play with her all day.”

He lowers himself, sliding off the bed only to bring you with him, your body gliding across the comforter with ease. He clutches onto your thighs, letting your legs rest in the crook of his elbows. He keeps his hold tight, bringing his lips down to kiss and suck on your thighs. You gasp at the aggressiveness, swearing you will see dark purple marks on you later. You moan at the idea, as it feels like he is finally claiming you; like are his to mark, to claim, to fuck, to love. 

He makes his way to your center, sniffing deeply before releasing a feral growl. He lets the tip of his tongue lightly drag from the bottom to the top of your heat, still fully covered by the damned thong. He flicks at your clit, a ghost of a touch that has you bucking your hips. And he draws back every single time. His self-control is impressive but frustrating all the same.

He starts to suck on it through the material, creating a bigger wet spot with his spit. The more he pushed his tongue against your folds, the more the material would rub just right against you. It made you clench, panting at how much he is teasing you. He pulls away, blowing on your sensitive spot which only makes you whine.

“Awe what is it?” He chuckles, the vibrations barely hitting where you need him. “You want my tongue to play with you?”

His hand lets go of your thigh, fingers tracing the fabric before pulling it to the side. “Lucky for you, I love to play.”

He goes right in, mouth over your bud as he consumes your very being. Your hands shoot to his hair, not prepared for the onslaught of pleasure he is delivering. The swirls he is landing on his target is mind numbing, a tangible pressure that makes you want to curl in on yourself. 

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he groans, the sound vibrating right on your clit. It makes you buck your hips up, but his left arm presses you down to keep you secure. 

“I know you want more, but you are going to have to be patient. I’m not done tasting this sweet pussy. Fuck, you are so sweet.”

You feel one of his fingers near your hole, circling it teasingly before pushing in. His tongue is back on your nerves, mouthing covering it to add slight suction. Even with his big fingers, it’s not nearly enough. 

“Logan, please add another.” You say, emphasizing as you clench down on his single digit. 

He sucks a little harder, ripping a yelp from your throat. Still, he listens and inserts a second finger with the first. He goes in and out, drawing sighs from your lips as he builds you up. His mouth is going crazy, moving his lips with a vengeance. Your blood is hot, traveling down as your release starts to come to the surface.

You can’t stop clamping down on his fingers, your pussy having a mind of its own. He is pistoning them now, causing your fluids to make its way down your ass onto the comforter. The sounds coming from his handiwork edge you further, your release imminent. 

“Oh God, Logan! I’m cumming!” 

Big mistake on your part.

He pulls away, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. A smug look appears on his face, and you have the urge to shove his face back into your aching cunt.

“Your first time cumming with me will be on my cock, sweetheart.”

He pulls your thong down your legs and moves you back to the front of the bed. He stands before you, making light work of removing his belt from the loops of his jeans. His jeans are next, pulling them down with his briefs. 

You don’t know what you expected. You weren’t surprised with how well endowed he was, not with the way he is built. But to see it in person is so much different from your imagination. The details that your mind didn’t conjure up, especially the vein that starts from his lower stomach to the tip of his cock. It makes you salivate, wanting to run your tongue along it. 

“You like what you see, darlin’?” He noticed you staring, but you have no shame. Not anymore.

“Yeah, want it in my mouth so bad.”

He walks over to you, his cock in your face. His hand goes to your head, stroking the baby hairs that are starting to stick to your temple. “As much as I would love that, I am dying to give you the fucking you deserve, sweetheart. However…” he brings your head up closer to his cock, your lips not even an inch away. “How about you get it nice and wet for me.”

You don’t have to be told twice. You work up a good amount of spit, letting it drip from your mouth onto his hard cock. You start to lick at the sides, spreading your saliva all over until he is covered. You are basically making out with his dick, your lips and tongue moving like you had when you were kissing him earlier. It isn’t until you get to that vein of his that you start to go wild, licking it up and down. 

Logan is groaning deeply, and pulls your head back, a string of saliva connecting before breaking apart. You hear him curse under his breath before crawling back onto the bed, his hands holding your face as he brings his lips to you. His kisses are slow this time, letting it sink in that this is happening; that you two are about to be connected. 

“You did such a good job. You are such a good girl.” He murmurs against your lips before sitting up. 

His dick is now sitting heavy on your mound, and the weight of it feels delicious. He taps it against your clit a few times, your hips thrusting up in kind. 

“You ready for me, sweetheart?” He lets his cock rut into your folds, thrusting up into your clit. “I think that sweet thing of yours is.”

“Give it to me, Lo. I need you so bad it hurts.” 

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ll take that pain away.” He promises.

And as promised, he places the tip right at your aching hole and pushes in slowly. Your jaw slacks, the pressure as he continues his descent much more intense than you anticipated. It’s been so long since you’ve given yourself to someone. It all feels new, and you are thankful; thankful that it's with him.

He is fully seated in you, and you can only describe it as euphoric. With the way he sits heavy in your cunt, filling you up completely, you can honestly say that this was meant to happen. Logan was meant to be with you in every single possible way imaginable. It’s the only explanation.

“How does it feel, baby?” Logan asks, hands rubbing up and down your thighs soothingly. 

“It feels,” you whimper, gripping down on him. “It feels so good, Lo.”

“Yeah? My cock makin’ you feel good, doll?” He groans, clearly being affected by your behavior. 

Before you can mutter a pathetic answer, your brain turning to mush, he shifts back. His cock slides out until the mushroom head is at your entrance, and then he slams back in; hard and slow. 

The constant back and forth of his cock has you shaking, his hard thrust knocking the air out of your lungs and the slow thrusts feeling oh so good. And with the way he is watching you, his face mimicking yours as he receives his own pleasure, is sending zaps of electricity to your cunt. It makes you grasp onto him hard as he gets you more worked up.

Logan sits up straighter, grabbing your right leg and bringing it up to his shoulder. His left hand keeps it steady as he speeds up slightly and presses gentle kisses to your ankle in the process. It lets him go deeper, kissing your cervix every time it goes in. The pressure feels incredible, and the more he speeds up, the more your cunt starts to spasm out of control. 

“That’s it, baby. You are taking me so well, like you were fucking made for me.” He growls out, biting your ankle. 

“God yes, Logan! I’m yours!” You cry out, him and his cock making you utterly delirious. “You were made for my pussy!”

“Fuck, you got a mouth on you.” He chides, his right hand going to your right breast.

He is squeezing your tit so tight; his hips are on autopilot with how fast he is taking you. Your hands don’t know where to go, going from gripping the fabric below to holding onto his wrist. He is putting you into a completely fucked out state, and you can’t get enough of that treatment. 

You can tell you are on the precipice of cumming. You are clenching on and off rapidly, no longer in control of your muscles. The sounds coming from your coupling, wet smacking echoes that are music to your ears. You can feel the telltale sensation of being overwhelmed, and you know you are now on the track of no return. 

“Logan, baby, I’m gonna cum!”

He snarls at you, a crazed look in his eyes as he slams into you. He lets go of your tit to grab your chin, keeping your eyes on his. “Do it, darlin’. Cum around my cock.”

You are over the edge in seconds, a silent scream taking over as you tremble and quake. Your pussy is convulsing like crazy, small gushes of liquid coming out. You see Logan look down at where you two are connected, and he is grinning like crazy.

“What a fucking sight. There isn’t one thing about you that isn’t pretty.”

You could sob at his words, especially with how overstimulated you are becoming. You work his cock, wanting him to cum inside of you. 

“Give me your cum, Logan. Fill me until I’m dripping.”

Your words must have triggered something because next thing you know he has let go of your leg and face and is falling onto his forearms with his mouth landing on yours. You hear the sound of his claws, completely unsheathed from his skin, causing him to bellow into your mouth, rutting like a madman which causes cum to leak out from your hole onto the bedding. 

He slows down, milking out the rest of his spend before stopping all together. He lets go of your lips gasping, face buried in your shoulder as he tries to calm down. Your hands go to his back, massaging the taut muscles as he shakes. 

“Fuck, Logan,” you sigh, catching your breath as you come back to earth. You feel so relaxed, even with your guts feeling completely rearranged.

You hear his claws sink back into his skin, and it is then that he pulls out, falling to the other side of the bed. His chest is going up and down with every heavy breath, and you can’t help but admire him like this. 

He turns his head over to you, his hand coming to grab the hand by your side. “C’mere, sweetheart.”

You make it over into his side, head laying on his chest as you both bask in the post-sex glow. You can’t help but smile at this turn of events, not expecting to have been in this position with Logan. But here you are, laying on his chest with his arms around you. 

You notice something in your peripherals and see splintering from the headboard of your bed. There are six holes in the wood, and it sends you into a laughing fit, a euphoric glaze covering your entire body. 

“What’s so funny?” He asks gruffly, pulling you into side as you continue to laugh.

“Your claws pierced my headboard.”

You see him glance back, and you see him sigh, relaxing more into the mattress. “I’ll fix it up for you, darlin’. I’m sorry about that.”

“No need to say sorry.” You snuggle your face into his skin, breathing in his natural musk as you relax more into him. “I just can’t believe we did that, but I’m glad it did.”

“I can say the same.” He murmurs, stroking your hair gently. “Seriously, I gotta know, did you see this coming?”

You shift up, going to lay your arms across his chest only for you to rest on them. You look into his eyes and the need in them is still there, but not in the way they were before. They were searching, looking for any confirmation that what you both just did truly meant more. It makes him look vulnerable, something he rarely shows. It makes you smile at the prospect of him opening up even more. 

“Not until today. It’s strange now that I think about it.”

“And why is that?”

“I never saw you coming, I guess. Even when it is clear as day how you felt about me, I never got anything that told me it was real. I didn’t want to potentially screw anything up between us.”

He hums, a look of contemplation on his face before taking a hand and rubbing his face, a long sigh coming out in the process. “I suppose that’s my fault.”

You can’t help but look confused. His fault? “Why do you say that?”

“I haven’t been fully honest, but ever since I came here, no matter how welcomed and appreciated I am here, I have contemplated leaving.” His hand leaves his face to go behind your neck, lightly scratching the skin at the nape before continuing. “I’ve been alone for a long time. Having a family has never been in the books for me. It is easier to not let people in.”

“So, that’s why I couldn’t see you coming. You hadn’t made up your mind?”

“It’s possible, but it’s just a theory.”

“But, if that’s the case, have you made your mind up?” You start rubbing his chest with your palm, feeling his heart pulse slowly. You are confident you know the answer now, but you want to hear him say it.

He grunts in laughter, shaking his head slightly before letting his fingers curl around the back of your neck. “I think you know the answer, princess. But if you really want to know, come up here.”

You push yourself from him, moving so you are straddling his torso. He brings his hands to your face once more, pulling you down so you are face to face with him. He kisses you, slowly initiating intimacy with his lips. He isn’t saying anything, but you can feel what he is saying through the act alone. 

“I can’t close myself off from you,” he says between kisses. “And I don’t want to. Especially if you’ll have me.”

“I think you already know the answer to that, Lo.”

“Still, I wanna hear you say it.”

You pull away so you can look into his eyes, giving him all the sincerity you can muster. “I love you, and I want you to stand by me.”

He smiles teeth and all, and pulls you back down, kissing all over your face causing you to squeal. “Hmm I love you too, sweetheart. Always have.”

You both stay like that for a while, basking in each other's company in post-coital ecstasy by continuing to taste one another. Another thought came over you, and you can’t help but laugh again.

“If I had known sex would make you like this, I would have made a move a long time ago.” Logan jokes, breathing them in. 

“I’m sorry, but I’m laughing because it took me taking your cigars hostage to do it.”

Logan throws his head back, chuckling at what you presume is the same thing you are laughing about.

“Speaking of those cigars, can you grab them for me?”

You perk up, pushing away from him to lean over to your side of the bed. Your fingers stretch for the book, getting a grasp on it before getting settled back with Logan. He pulls you in quickly, hurdling you into his side. You see he has his lighter ready, which he must have grabbed while you were getting his cigars.

“You gonna smoke one?”

He hums, taking one out. “I only smoke these on special occasions. I think this qualifies.”

He carefully unsheathes a claw, cutting the end before it sinks back under his skin. He flickers the lighter, letting the bright flame linger on the end to get a good burn going. He then lays back, pulling you even closer into his side, before taking his first puff. 

You smile, laying your head against him as you let your eyes drift closed. You feel yourself drifting away, the smell of his cigar and the sound of his pulse lulling you to a deep sleep; a sleep with dreams that you hope feel like déjà vu in the near future.

[kurooh]

MIGHT LET YOU MAKE ME JUNO ! — HAIKYUU

⊹₊˚. featuring timeskip! miya atsumu, miya osamu, kuroo tetsurō, iwaizumi hajime, & suna rintarou tryin’ to knock up their pretty wife !

warnings ★ 18+ content — mdni, fem! reader, breeding, cuddlefucking, doggy, talk of kids & pregnancy, fluff, creampies, shower sex, minor cockwarming, squirting, full nelson, mirror sex, mention of lactation, mating press, cum in panties (offscreen), not proofread.

xoxo, juno ★ my namesake?! hehe, cheers to the surviving haikyuu fuckers on my blog <33 ty for your patience!! as always, send in some asks/reblog if you enjoyed, i love reading comments/tags

— MIYA ATSUMU

“go ahead ‘n slut yerself out all over my cock, baby.. fuuuck, jus’ like that.”

atsumu’s lips part around a needy moan, jaw hanging slackly in some kind of disbelief. after such a lengthy, tiring day, he found himself trudging into your shared bathroom to greet you.

he’d gotten hard in seconds, seeing your tits pressed against the glass door as well as your face, lidded eyes and cute pout enticing him to come join you. when he got onto his knees to get you ready, you’d bent over and tossed him a knowing smirk over your shoulder.

“lemme see that ass move again.. shit, ‘s perfect. yer perfect.” you giggle, throwing your ass back onto his cock, eyes rolling back when his tip kisses your cervix just right, sending sparks of pleasure right through your veins.

“tsumu, this isn’t all that fun,” you huff, the wild need for him to truly ruin you growing by the second. “wan’ you to fuck me, and make me yours.”

“baby, yer already mine,” atsumu lands a slap on your wet asscheek, startling you enough for your legs to spread further. “good girl,” he praises, hushed and under his breath. he reaches upwards and pulls the shower head down, pushes it into your hand and changes the setting.

“use this on yer clit, ‘kay? when yer feelin’ like ya wanna cum, don’t. hold it ‘n we’ll cum at the same time, yeah baby?”

you nod, and he smacks your ass hard, leaning backwards. atsumu pushes a hand through soaked gold strands, chuckling lowly although his voice has a serious edge to it. “‘s not how we say yes, is it?”

“y-yes, tsumu. at the same time.”

he draws his hips back, then finds himself advancing forward brutally. he doesn’t think about anything beside you — you, you, you. with the scent of your body wash tangling in the hot air, the beautiful curves and slopes of your body, the noises you make for him only.

your chest heaves when the steady spray of the shower head soon reaches your clit, immediately proving to be overwhelming and intense paired with him fucking you.

“so god damn tight,” atsumu hisses, nails digging crescent moons into the plush skin of your hips as his own collide with your ass. the bathroom is full of steam and the rhythmic clap of skin against skin — it’s hard to keep from trembling with how good everything feels, all over.

frantic panting cuts through the sound of your whimpers as atsumu feels himself nearing his peak. it’s nasty, downright filthy, the way your nails drag down the wall tiles as you desperately hump your ass back into him.

gasps of your name and affectionate nicknames fall from his lips like a sacred prayer, blending into a whiny harmony as atsumu’s thrusts grow rougher.

“baby,” he chokes, voice tight. “ya better be close, can barely last.”

“tsumu, cum inside me,” you beg, skin burning and pussy squeezing uncontrollably, squelching growing louder. “p-please, i can’t— i’m gonna cum, ‘m gonna—” your body tenses, and the shower head falls to the floor with a clunk that neither of you register.

luckily atsumu looks down at the right moment, sees you squirt, pussy gushing onto his pelvis. as if your back arching and your clenching pussy wasn’t enough, he ends up cumming too hard, ribbons of white gushing deep into your awaiting pussy.

“fuckkk,” he groans, overstimulation setting in way too quickly and causing him to pull halfway out of your fluttering cunt.

“no, tsumu,” is all you can heave out, pushing back hard enough to send him into the wall behind him, muscled back hitting the tiles as he lets out a startled oomph. “wanna keep it inside, feels so good.”

— MIYA OSAMU

“samu,” you mumble into his lips, tossing a leg over his hip. he grunts, nose nudging your cheek as he pulls back. “yeah? what’s on yer mind, angel?”

“had a dream about a baby,” the words are spoken softly, and osamu’s fingers lightly graze your chin as he makes you look up at him. “i know it’s kinda stupid, but it was so..” your voice trails off sheepishly and there’s a pause before you admit, “you were such a good dad, samu, ‘n so sexy too.”

your bare bodies are bathed in the morning sunlight, warm and comforting as it peeks in through the curtains. this is the perfect moment with him, skin to skin, his cock still inside you as you kiss and talk about dreams of the future.

in his chest, feelings stir and ideas come to life in his head; osamu presses his hips forward with a hushed moan.

“well, i’ll give ya a baby, angel,” large hands smooth over your hips as he helps you turn away from him; then they pull you close, grabbing at your tits and tugging your nipples between his fingers.

“samu,” you sigh, words fading into a content moan as you feel his hips draw back, then advance forward, against your ass. “i want you to fill me up, give me everything.”

“only if ya take it all,” osamu huffs, tucking his face into your shoulder and closing his eyes as he starts to fuck his cock into you deeply. the thick tip kisses your sweet spot over and over, and if that wasn’t already overwhelming enough, your hand wanders towards your swollen clit.

somehow, osamu’s faster than you, releasing one of your tits and swatting away your hand before he’s finding your clit with his index finger and rubbing it in messy circles.

“s-samu, fuck— jus’ like that, don’t stop!”

your back arches against him, hips twisting as a heat spreads through your veins, fiery and intense in the best ways possible. the movement of your body and then the frantic clenching of your pussy is too intense for him; sharp whines escape his throat, muffled as osamu bites into your shoulder desperately.

“i-i— shit, ‘m gonna fill you up,” is all you can make out from his rushed mumbling, and you turn your head quickly, desperate for his lips.

“kiss me, samu. kiss me as you cum inside, please.”

it’s as though the words break him — his face twists as he kisses you, whole body tensing. he presses his cock deep, thickening and throbbing before he’s gushing cum and can’t seem to stop.

“ah, fuck,” he tosses his head back, fingers scrabbling at your nipples as his chest heaves against your back, heart pounding steadily.

you cum with a whine, grinding down on his cock in an effort to get him impossibly deeper. as you ride out your highs together, trembling deliciously, he can’t help but dissolve into giggles of pure happiness.

“angel, ya got that baby for sure, jus’ like ya wanted, hm? ah, i can’t wait for a mini-me or a mini-ya. yer gonna be the prettiest mom, swear.”

— KUROO TETSURŌ

“fuck, babe. you’ve got no idea about what i saw today,” tetsurō huffs, warm breath fanning over your tits as they bounce, controlled by your bra.

spices clatter as tetsurō sweeps his arm across the kitchen counter behind you, clearing the space so you can lean back a little easier. his grip on your thighs doesn’t waver, nor does the ruthless tempo of his hips.

“tetsu, what’d you see?” you gasp, tears threatening to pour over your waterline.

“well, i saw this family,” he grunts, thrusting into you particularly hard now that he’s recalling the memory. “the dad had their kid on his shoulders, and the mom was pregnant. they looked so happy, and it made me think of you.”

“is that so?” you ask, spreading your legs impossibly wider as an invitation. you bite your lower lip, rolling your hips against his in an effort to get his cock deeper.

“tetsu,” he raises his eyes from the mess between your legs to your face, earnest and flushed. “kiss me, baby.”

tetsurō obliges, lets you tug him forward by the chin, mesh his lips with yours. it’s warm and sweet, the aftertaste of the dessert you’d been making as his surprise for when he’d come home. your tongue slips between plush, parted lips and moves with his gently, quite a contrast from the rough way he’s fucking you.

“ah, shit,” he moans, struggling to kiss you back when he feels your sticky walls clenching down on his too sensitive cock.

tetsurō leans forward and buries his flushed face in your shoulder, kissing the tender skin a few times before nipping it and then finally biting down into your shoulder.

he practically loses it when you wrap your legs around his back, heels digging into muscle as you push him forward. in a hushed tone and into his ear, you say sweetly, “tetsu, fuck a baby into me.”

“oh, i fucking will, princess.”

although, despite his rough words, he’s wheezing and whining every now and then into your shoulder, hoping it muffles his sounds.

your hand slides up his neck and tangles into dark tufts of hair, pulling tight as your own orgasm approaches. your pleasure mixes with his own, and just before the knot in your belly snaps, you feel a strong pulsing deep within your pussy.

he groans loudly, burying his cock deep just as it starts to gush, painting your walls white. your nails dig hard into his scalp and the sting of pain only seems to make him get a little more vocal.

tetsurō pants into your neck, trying to find his bearings now that his limbs feel like jelly.

“hold me?”

— IWAIZUMI HAJIME

“h-haji, this was a good call..”

“oh yeah?” hajime’s voice rumbles in his chest, strong and steady against your back as he keeps your legs wide open. “have we ever tried this one?”

“i don’t think so, but we definitely will in the future.”

“feels that good, princess?” hajime chuckles, eyeing your reflections in the mirror mounted across the bed. for a moment, he considers the two of you puzzle pieces — he sees that his cock fits snugly inside you, and the thought that you may be made for each other briefly crosses his mind.

“of course it does,” a sheen of sweat glimmers on your face, skin glowing beautifully in the mirror. “god, hajime, y-you’re so deep..”

he notices your eyes falling shut, head tipping back, and he raises his hand to lightly smack your cheek. “mm, princess, gotta keep watching. i want you to see yourself cum, alright?”

“fine,” you huff, feet dangling in the air and bouncing every which way as he fucks into you, heavy balls smacking your pussy with each stroke.

“what made you wanna try this?” you ask, knowing you should save the question for later, but you’re too curious not to ask. why would your husband come home someday and randomly want to try a new position you’d never heard of?

“well, you know..” in the mirror, you catch the flush on his tanned cheeks. “we’ve both caught the fever recently, and this is a solid position for makin’ babies.”

you gasp sharply when hajime turns his hips ever so slightly, and the resulting sensation causes pressure to build in your pelvis. “shit— right there, haji, just like that..”

he grunts, body stiffening as he tightly holds you in place and fucks into you like it’s the last time you’ll ever be like this together.

“wanna get you pregnant,” hajime groans, abs flexing with the effort of maintaining his merciless pace, “i wanna—shit—wanna breed you.”

“you want it that bad?” you breathe, just barely keeping your eyes open and focusing on your bouncing reflection. “fuck me full, then, haji.”

hajime doesn’t question it, thinks of you with a swollen belly and milky tits all for him to hold and take care of. you, with your glowing skin and beautiful body from all the pregnancy hormones.

the idea of it all is too much to bear, not to mention cumming deep inside your cunt, this time with the intent to breed.

he can’t even muster the words to warn you that he’s cumming as hard as he is; after a choked, tight groan, he falls silent and rocks his hips into you.

“fuck it deep, haji,” you whisper, on the edge yourself. obedient and too far gone in his fantasy, he does exactly what you ask, whining very quietly from the sensitivity.

shaking on top of him and watching the reflections in the mirror, you cum hard, dissolving into unmatched pleasure. and you’re thankful you keep your eyes open, moaning at the very sight— hajime doesn’t even pull out, he’s still pushing his cock in and out of you, but cum races from your cunt in thick white rivulets.

“i’m trying,” he huffs, sensitive when he glances up and notices how intently you’re watching the mirror. his cheeks flush lightly when you both notice that most of his cum ends up dripping down his balls and out of you.

“don’t worry, princess. i’ll cum however many times it takes, sound good?”

— SUNA RINTAROU

“you want a few brats? oh, i just felt your pussy squeeze up. ‘s what you want, huh?” rintarou bites, harshness of his thrusts drawing whimper after whimper from your kiss-swollen lips.

“i want it, rin,” you feel one of his palms smoothing over the plushness of your lower stomach, just above your pelvis. “w-what’re you doing?”

he laughs at your stutter, keeps your legs steady over his shoulders. rintarou draws his hips back, leaving just his tip inside your quivering pussy. then, he presses down on your lower stomach and slides in, adding more pressure with each inch.

“rintarou!” you wheeze, jerking your hips to the side in a pathetic attempt to run away from the overwhelming pleasure he gives you with every movement, big or small.

“nuh uh, pretty girl,” his free hand grabs ahold of you tightly, tugs you towards him and then settles to rest on your neck. rintarou’s fingers are loose on each side of your throat, hand placed there in a demonstration of control. but what’s the point of that, when he’s already made it clear by hoisting your legs over his shoulders and folding you in half?

“you’ll take it, all of it.”

“but ‘m sensitive, i’ve cum too many times,” you can’t even recall a number or remember how long he’s been fucking you like this.

you’re both sticky with sweat, your thighs stained white with dried cum from previous rounds and marked with love bites he’d given you in his excitement to get a taste of your pussy.

it’s so fucking messy because rintarou’s the one who can’t stop asking to eat you out and push the cum back inside; you always say yes, then cum until you’re dizzy and can’t see straight.

you taste yourself from earlier on the corners of his lips when he bends forward and gives you a chaste kiss. “l-last time, okay? i’ll give you your brats, pretty girl.”

the sweet pout on your lips that’s quickly replaced with something else and wail of his name that leaves you when he starts jackhammering your pussy turns him on to the max.

incoherent babbling of what he’ll give you and how good you feel blend together, and before you can fully register it, rintarou’s folding forward with a deep groan. “shit, i’m gonna cum so fucking hard, i—”

he shuts up and gives you a few more thrusts before he’s pushing deep and cumming — he’s not done when he pulls out and covers your pussy in cum.

“r-rin, keep it inside,” you whine sadly, watching as he collects it on his tip and then plunges it back inside.

“jus’ needed some extra lube,” he says coolly, but he really just wants to cum all over you. “how’s it feel inside, pretty baby?”

“like i need some more.”

rintarou laughs at the way you turn away, cheeks hot in embarrassment because you were the one who wanted a break. “we are going out later, hm?”

your nod makes him smile, green eyes crinkling at the corners. “how about i cum in your panties and you walk around with ‘em?”

[teeskzagain]

"i'm popular with older sisters."

• synopsis: in which the lines have started to blur between your long-term neighbor, sim jake.

• warnings: heavily suggestive content (as in this is one step away from being just straight smut basically), jake calls reader "noona", dry humping, hickies/neck markings, slight dirty talk, desperate!jake

• wc: 1.1k

• a/n: im thinking of expanding this idea into a one shot, but please let me know if i should.

» imagine younger!neighbor jake, who one day barges into your house, ready to hang out with you and your family- he'd been bored with nothing else to do.

» neighbor!jake, who roams around the living room and kitchen in search of someone, before finally working his way upstairs (there was no one around) and sees that your door is open. immediately, he beelines straight down the hall.

» imagine younger!neighbor jake, who wastes no time storming into your room, excited that you're home, only to get told off harshly by you. you're on the phone with a friend, back resting against the bed frame as you wave at him to go away.

» after scolding him and returning back to your conversation, imagine younger!neighbor jake's reaction. his face would contort unpleasantly, nose turning upright at your dismissive attitude. he'd stand at your door frame, mumbling out, "noona." over and over again as a means of regaining your attention. though, you would just ignore him.

» imagine neighbor!jake, who doesn't appreciate how you're acting towards him, stalking up to the end of the bed. his whines of, "get off the phone." combined with, "just talk to me instead." begin to irritate you, with you purposely keeping your gaze away from him.

» younger!neighbor jake didn't like being ignored. which is why seconds later, he's crawling onto your bed and swiftly engulfing you with his body. after the many years spent together, he already knows what gets you the most distracted.

» imagine neighbor!jake who, as your busy yelling and fighting him off of you, begins to bury his head deep into your neck. he produces little groans into the crevice, saying such verbage as, "noona, i miss you so much. please, just missed you so much."

» imagine neighbor!jake smothering you with his weight when he starts to press his full lips against your skin, trying anything to get your attention. you fumble your phone in an attempt to hang up the call because absolutely no way would you let anyone know about this. no. no one could ever know. “we are not doing this right now.” you hiss softly once you know your friend is unable to hear the scuffle going on.

» "why not?" neighbor!jake rumbles into your skin, "don't you love it when i-" without any hesitation, he starts to nip at your skin and instinctively a sharp inhale has you levitating. his arms wrap tighter around your torso as you now begin to feel trapped underneath him. wrestling you deeper into the mattress, he can't help the light rut his pelvis does into your side. the need to just have you becoming ever so consuming.

» imagine younger!neighbor jake, who in actuality, came over to your house because he's been missing you a little more than a neighbor truly should. while, yes, he was missing the comforting presence you would always bring to him. your caring tendencies in an almost sisterly way.

» imagine neighbor!jake, who's true reason for visiting, was because he began to miss you. he started to miss your thick, velvet walls that always feel so fucking good around his strained cock. the tiny whimpers you would produce when you were overstimulated. how much cum he would squirt out because only you could ever get him so aroused. he's longing for it, and now he needs this asap.

» "jake...." murmuring, you feel your head roll to the side as neighbor!jake uses a hand to push it out the way, needing an even greater space to kiss and mark you up, "we need...to stop. we need to stop this now. my parents are gonna be home-ah...soon."

» younger!neighbor jake is too much in a daze to even register your concern. fuck, how could he pay attention? despite your protests, you're already whining softly into the air, the little huffs of your chest has both you and him heaving up and down. this is how it always starts. it starts with your refusal to engage, your mature attitude that battles his easy going one, before eventually you begin to falter.

» imagine neighbor!jake slowly pulling his head back to gage you from above, and then recieving all the confirmation he needs. his noona. so fucking pretty, the way you're eyes are shut tightly because you always get aroused so fast. you want this, no matter how many times you try to deny. the evidence is all of your face. god, he feels his cock buzzing because of that pretty face. you just make him so damn horny. after admiring you, he lowers himself once more and goes back to producing fat, lazy hickies all over your neck and grinding his tip against you.

» imagine younger!neighbor jake, who's cock is pulsing so hard that he's seconds away from cumming on himself. raking his dick into your body, the sloppy kisses, all of it acts as the perfect foreplay for him. but what really does it for him, is when your legs involuntarily widens and closes to cage him in, solidifying the unspoken agreement between you two.

» a tiny smile starts to spread across neighbor!jake's face as he switches between splotching you red and huskily speaking, "you ready now?" he lands a larger kiss on the middle of your throat, "i'll be quick, noona." his throaty voice vibrates just perfectly into your ears. "just how you like it."

» imagine younger!neighbor jake, who's moments from stuffing you raw, muttering sweet nothings into your skin. he grabs a handful of your pants fabric and quietly pulls it down to reveal your commando state. when he brushes his fingertips against your bare clit, you have to bite your lip to stop a shuddered moan from leaving. his hazy eyes look up to your contorted face, "kinda wish you wouldn't hold back. i wanna hear your pretty moans. i wanna hear your soft pleads. let me hear you-"

» as you go to let out a throaty mewl, imagine younger!neighbor jake's dismay when he suddenly hears the front door opening then closing and indistinct talking emerges from downstairs. with an, ‘oh fuck’, the two of you jump and scramble apart, the sounds of footsteps echoing around. someone starts to make their way upstairs as you both go from a state of startling shock to sheer panic.

"Y/N! We're home!"

*

*

*

*

[moechies]

eeee but ok what about a make out sesh with sugu that ends with him begging to finger you >.<

౨ৎ ⋆ please?! ꨄ geto suguru

sypnosis: inexperienced college students you ‘nd suguru with a mischievous pact

content warnings 𝜚 𓈒 vunerable virgin reader, no p in v, soft, messy, fingering, making out, praiseee, he cums from rubbin himself, light oral (f rec.), pet names : baby, honey doll !! !

an ♡ . . this ask omg anon u are genius . dis is absolutely so cute and ugggghhhhhh m melting <3 literally love u . i love dis ask a lot so this is a bit longer than my usual drabbles , so im makin it a fic :D enjoyyyyyy loviessss

it’s hot , sloppy , messy.

bodies pressed against each others as your guy’s lips clash feverently against each others , sloppy noises elicited from you two’s ‘practice.’

it was never supposed to go so far. it started from something so innocent yet so dirty , the two of you prompting to practice making out with eachother; every friday and saturday night in the comfort of his private dorm.

nights usually started off awkward, with you at the front of his doorstep nervously knocking at his door. he was intimidating, tall, and so handsome; everything you’d consider perfect. it made you want to shrivel and hide.

your first couple sessions consisted of awkward touches, usually his fingers hovering above your warm skin with a light shiver , staring into you for any affirmation to touch you.

“is it okay? ‘m not gonna do anythin’ weird.”

making out with him was sloppy and messy, rhythmless and random. neither of you would stop the other unless one had run out of breath , but that was the fun of it; you suppose.

“d-do you wanna keep goin’?” he pants, face awfully close to yours, not sparing another breath when you mindlessly nod. in a blink, his swollen lips are clad against yours once again.

this time , it had been no different. it had been 3 weeks after your set arrangements , and nothing had seemingly been different.

right ?

so why did it feel so much more intimate ? you try to speculate , but the man’s mouth occupies all of you. geto makes you feel so fuzzy, your body, your mind, incapable of a single coherent thought in the heat of the moment.

he wastes no time pressing your body into the soft of the mattress with his own, hand pursed into the soft pillow with intertwined fingers.

you gasp into his mouth , waiting for the moment he allows you time for a quick breather, but it never comes. instead he refuses to detach himself from you as you grow lightheaded.

“s-suguru hah— ,what’s wrong with you?”

“baby , i need y’so bad. i cant . . ”

your brow arches in confusion , but all becoming much clearer when you feel his frigid fingers dance on the band of your skimpy shorts.

“w-wait—“

”y’gonna let me touch you here?” he teases, his thumb pressing up on your clit through your shorts, right above the wet patch of your sticky cum.

“eeek — hold on, sugu !”

“please ? let me finger you baby . w’na make you feel good s’bad.”

you whimper at his offer, overwhelmed by the suddenness of his question. it had never gone this far, you had never expected it to. to say that you hoped it would happen was an understatement; you dreamt of this. truly.

his soft hands run over your soft skin, chubby lips pressing breathy kisses all over your face and neck, and overly desperate bulge lazily humping into the fat of your panty-clad pussy. it’s all too much.

“let me feel you , honey, c’mon.” he rushes, smirking into your skin with a soft kiss to your collarbone.

“o-okay, suguru !” you blurt .

he’s sighs in relief, hands wasting no time to tug off your shorts along side your panties. your sweet cunt radiates a soft heat he’s able to feel against the palm of his hand, chuckling as he watches your cunt pulse around nothing.

he’s obsessed, and he thinks it may be love . he finds himself unable to pull his eyes away from the gorgeous sight, pupils in the shape of hearts as he watches your puffy hole uncontrollably drool with pearlescent slick.

“s-stop starin’ sugu—“ you mumble, quickly bringing a hand down to cover yourself from his roaming eyes. you’re quickly stopped by his hand, never holding a chance in the first place.

“you’ve never done this before ?”

“obviously not! “ your eyes are shut tight, tears pricking at the corners and damping your lashes. you’re obviously embarrassed, and he wouldn’t have you any other way. this is perfect.

he says nothing but chuckles, flinching when you unexpectedly feel his lips against yours, one that slowly converts into something much more sensual.

you feel the pad of his thumb slide against your sticky cunt, merely pressing the tip inside to tease you. he swallows up your yelp, feeling him smile against your lips.

his pushes in half a digit, followed with short but rhythmic pumps. your cunt squelches and squeezes around him, allowing sweet honeyed moans to fall upon your lips.

“y’feel so good, feels so good doll. can’t believe y-you’ve been hidin’ this from me.” he groans.

“you’re so evil baby .”

“ff-feels s’good too, hnn—“

he curls his finger, purposely nudging against your spongy walls. you squeak, pressing against his wrists to rid his movements on your sensitive pussy.

“n-not there !”

“be still baby. let me have this, ‘s my first time too, okay?”

“w-wait—“

he kisses you again, silencing your whines. he gains speed in his movements , his free hand coming down to relief some tension for his own cock, which had been painfully strained against his boxers.

he’s sure you see him do the filthy act when your face flushes , eyes unable to meet his own as you can’t help but stare, trying your best to look away.

“y’r still so shy when my finger’s inside this pussy?”

“d-don’t say that !”

you whine. your back arches when he slips another finger in besides his first , the girth and length of both digits filling you like no other could. you’d imagine what his cock would feel like in comparison to this, but you can’t.

“d-dizzy, suguru— ‘m gonna cum, i— can’t !”

“cum doll, please, cum f’me, need it so bad..” he whines, feverently jerking at his cock as his eyes zero in on your lewd expression.

he pants with relief when he feels your cunt convulse around his slim digits, a sticky, creamy essence that coats his fingers. he pulls himself away from the mess, smearing a bit on the soft of your thigh before pressing a unmatched kiss onto your lips.

your mess coats the fat folds of your cunt, sweet pearly clit puffy and swollen, just oh, so desperate to be loved. he can tell. he leans down in between your legs before you take notice, pressing a harsh kiss against your slippery bud. one hard enough that you’re unable to push his head away with all your might, forced to lay still below him as he gently suckles on your clit and sneakily licks at your creamy mess.

he raises his head with a proud snarky grin, only to be met with a flick on the forehead and a light scolding.

he sighs, squirming uncomfortably at the noted mess in his boxers. not a word is exchanged between the two of you, only light pants that reverberate around the small of his dorm room.

“w-wanna go further ?”

[hiraethwrote]

contents : f!reader, containts spoilers, character death, mom!reader (has a son), dealing with loss, angst/slight comfort?, bittersweet, no use of y/n wc 1k an : idk what this is, but i just really love satoru and feel sentimental about him... i am not very happy with it but it's something

“mama, i don’t remember this!”

when you turn to look up, you’re staring directly at a photo you have not seen in a long time. once it sinks in just what picture it is you’re looking at, a soft smile grows on your face before meeting your son’s gaze.

no wonder he was confused, because the slightly crinkled picture he had managed to find wasn’t of him, despite the kid being nearly identical to himself. had it not been for the fact that you knew it wasn’t your son who was staring back at you on the piece of paper, it would have fooled you too.

“‘s because it’s not you, sweetheart,” you smile. “come here,” he doesn’t hesitate to scatter over with tiny steps, before you gently lift him into your lap, resting your head on his shoulder as you look at the picture together.

you had nearly forgotten the picture even existed, hid away with other tokens of your late love.

it was a rather simple picture, one from when satoru was just a child, long before you had the privilege of loving him. standing straight and proud, a young satoru was smiling at you, a toothless grin stretching so far across his face that his eyes were squeezed shut.

“it’s your daddy,” you sigh as your son leans back against you. “i think he’s a little older here than you are know.”

“he looks just like me!” excitement carrying his words.

and he did. same tufts of white hair that were always sticking in every direction. same warm smile that greeted everyone he encountered. same kind eyes that never lied.

“do you miss him?”

you turn to look at him, meeting familiar blue eyes you used to get lost in for hours on end. “every day,” you say simply, a sad smile painting your lips.

never letting your eyes leave your son’s face, you notice how his eyebrows narrow slightly and he turns his attention back to the photo. “i wish i met him.”

“me too, baby.” it came out quiet as a whisper, leaning forward to press a soft peck at his temple. “but he’s not gone gone.”

“what do you mean not gone gone?”

“well,” taking a deep breath, sensing how your eyes slowly started to turn glossy with tears. “he lives on in me, in my memory,” you say softly. “and in you,” grabbing his soft cheeks and rubbing your nose against his, causing a delightful little giggle to fill the space. “and all around.”

“all around?” he asks, the confused line between his brows deepening.

“i like to think so. for example, on sunny days i am sure he’s in the sunlight that kisses your skin, keeping you warm and safe. and you know when the wind is blowing so loud we hear it in the walls?”

“mhm,” he nods enthusiastically.

“i’m sure that’s your dad talking,” you laugh a little to yourself. “my god, how he used to talk. all the time.”

you keep looking for at the picture, reminding you of a time where you were able to enjoy the privilege of his strong arms around you, protecting you from any potential harm. it always amazed you, that despite everything he was put through, he was still soft and kind — truly one of his many brilliant qualities that he hadn’t let the world that was so cruel to him, tarnish him completely.

“he’s also in the rain,” you say, your voice falling back to a whisper when he turns to look at you again. you capture his eyes, trying to force a smile as his big eyes stare back at you with such curiosity. “you know how you’ve sometimes seen mommy just stand outside when it’s raining?” he nods. “i miss your dad more than anything, and it makes me sad sometimes. so when it rains, i like to go outside and feel the little droplets hit my face. i thinks it’s how he shows me he is still here, comforting me. sharing my pain so i don’t feel it on my own.”

you don’t even notice the shy tear that has rolled down your cheek until he reaches his small hand to gently wipe it away. “i don’t want you to be sad,” his voice is so full of compassion, wondering how such a small person could have such a big heart — he got that from satoru too.

“it’s okay to be sad sometimes,” you assure him. “it just proves that all i felt for your dad was real.”

he doesn’t seem to understand it fully, but you can’t blame him. he’s still just a kid after all. but as time pass, he'll grow up, it will all eventually make sense to him.

“mama?”

“yes, baby?”

“you’ve said before you talk to him.”

“yeah, all the time.”

“you think i can talk to him too?” your lips instantly start to tremble in an unsteady smile.

you nod slowly before pulling him closer, pressing your cheek against his. “of course! i think he would be happy to hear you talking to him.”

“where do you think he is now?” the loaded question comes out so innocently, unable to stop how you huff a breath, trying to find the right words that would give an answer a child could comprehend.

“i don’t know,” you said honestly, “but wherever he is, i hope he’s resting. that’s the least he deserves.”

with his eyes on the picture again, he gently wiggles out of your arms. his kindness steers his hand to dry more of your tears, again causing your lips to curve into a small smile.

“if it’s okay, i think i’m going to go talk to dad.”

“say hi to him from me, okay?” he nods, flashing you a grin similar to the one satoru bore in the picture in your hands. and he runs off into the garden, standing in the exact spot you so often find yourself in.

©hiraethwrote 2024 . all rights reserved. reposting, translating and otherwise plagarisim is prohibited

[sanemistar]

drop the act — satoru gojo

contents ★ fem!reader, fake dating to real lovers, fluff, 0.8k+ wc. ﾉ requested for my milestone event.

event m.list ★ jjk m.list

“let’s just stop.” satoru’s announcement came out of the blue. his tone came off serious and firm, which was quite uncharacteristic of him. it took you by surprise, a dumbfounded expression was written all over your face. even though you knew that this whole ‘fake’ relationship situation wouldn’t last long and that it was bound to come to an end sooner or later the moment he found someone he truly loved, and although you prepared yourself for that day, you just couldn’t help but feel a hint of sadness and hurt as your heart clenched painfully inside your chest.

why? because what first started as nothing but a mere attraction, a show to stop your parents’ constant nagging about you not seeing anyone at you age while most of your peers had gotten married already, turned to real and genuine feelings of love. as time passed by since the start of your relationship with him, you found yourself helplessly fall for satoru and those sweet, tender acts of his. the way your name slipped off his lips ever so sweetly, and how it rung into your ears like a serenade. how he took your hand into his as they fitted perfectly, like two puzzle pieces that complete one another. how he casually threw his arms around your waist like it was the most natural thing in the world to do for him.

you knew that all of his sweet actions and gestures were all just a part of his act to make it seem as believable and convincing as possible, and he did exactly that. no one, not even your parents, had a single doubt that the two of you were really dating. to outsiders, your relationship was what they call 'goals'. not knowing that it was all just a show, a camouflage. although you knew it all along, but you couldn't help but fall for him.

satoru was your ideal type for what a lover should be, and you wanted to do nothing more than to confess your feelings for him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do so. after all, the two of you only ever agreed to do this was because there were no strings attached. it was only a matter of convenience for both you and him, since he also happened to be in the same situation as you. so when you asked for his help, he was more than willing to oblige.

you wanted to tell him not to leave you, to stay with you longer, that you’d gotten so used to being with him to the point where you weren't ready to live without him, that you needed him. just thinking about how the two of you would part ways from then on, and how satoru would eventually move on like nothing happened between the two of you and maybe even find himself someone whom he’d truly love almost made your head spiral out of control.

if only you had known your feelings for him would grow this intensely, you wouldn't have agreed to do this.

your body moved on its own as your hand grabbed the sleeve of his jacket. you swallowed a lump that was starting to form in your throat.

"do we really have to?" your voice was shaky as you sounded very desperate. your eyes were practically glued to the floor as you anxiously awaited for his answer, refusing to ever look up. your chest moved up and down rapidly as as result of your heavy breathing.

you heard him sigh as he removed your hand away.

"yes, it’s gotten really tiring having to keep up with this act." your heart sank at his response. it really was the ending, and you were trying your hardest to fight the tears that eagerly awaited to fall.

satoru reached his hand out and used his thumb to lift your chin up, forcing you to look at his beautiful sky blue eyes. his lips slightly parted as he began speaking.

“let’s drop the act, i love you for real.”

and the sudden declaration hit you like a truck, did he just say that he loved you? it took you a couple of long minutes to process his words and fully register them in your mind.

the seriousness and earnestness of his tone along with his unwavering gaze at you left no room for doubt, he definitely meant every word he said. and you couldn't believe what started as a mere act at first had actually become something real.

the anxious look on your face began to relax as all tension slowly escaped your body, replaced with a wave of joy and relief. you let a few happy tears fall down your crimson, red cheeks as a result of being overwhelmed with emotions, which satoru gently wiped.

"yeah, let's." you hummed, a soft smile made its way onto your face. you wrapped your arms securely around his neck as you stood on your tippy toes, whispering softly into his ears in a moment of genuine intimacy and affection which you had felt for the very first time.

"i love you, satoru." although it wasn't your first time saying those words to him, but this time it felt much different, much more meaningful.

he smiled softly and leaned closer as the distance between you and him was completely gone.

taglist: @sylusdoll @ayrastv @hanaeriin @spkyssn @stunies @kalsplace