#it's a thing that's been on my mind off and on
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pucksandpower · 1 day ago
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Fourth Time’s the Charm
Max Verstappen x Norris!Reader
Summary: it starts, as all the best things do, with a bet (“If I win the race tomorrow and take the championship, you owe me a favor. Anything I want.”)
Note: thank you so much to @altxanna for the fantastic idea
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The lights of the Las Vegas strip pulse outside the massive floor-to-ceiling windows of Max’s penthouse, but neither of you cares. You’re both tangled up in each other under the covers, limbs lazily draped and intertwined. The TV is playing some action movie you both stopped paying attention to an hour ago, the volume low, serving as nothing more than background noise.
“You’re awfully quiet tonight,” you say, your voice soft as you trace a finger along Max’s arm, admiring the way his muscles shift beneath his skin.
“Just thinking,” he murmurs, resting his head against the pillow. His accent wraps around the words in a way that feels so familiar it’s comforting.
“About the race?” You ask, already knowing the answer.
Max turns his head to look at you, his blue eyes catching the dim light from the window. “What else would I be thinking about?”
You hum, tilting your head in mock thought. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe about how your girlfriend is ridiculously good-looking? Or how lucky you are to have me?”
His lips quirk into a smile, the kind that’s as much in his eyes as it is on his face. “You’re right. I should focus on what really matters.” He shifts slightly, leaning closer to you. “You’re ridiculously good-looking, and I’m very lucky.”
You laugh and shove his shoulder lightly. “That’s better.”
He catches your hand before you can pull it away, his fingers lacing with yours. His expression grows more serious as he says, “But yes, I’m thinking about the race. I’m thinking about winning.”
You roll your eyes at the sheer confidence in his tone. “You think you’re going to win.”
Max raises an eyebrow. “Think? I know I’m going to win. You don’t believe in me?”
“Oh, I believe in you,” you say, smirking. “I just also believe in my brother. And if Lando finishes ahead of you, the title fight goes to Qatar.”
He groans dramatically, letting his head fall back against the pillow. “Don’t remind me. The idea of dragging this out another week …”
“What, scared Lando might pull it off?”
He narrows his eyes at you, feigning offense. “Scared? Me? No. I’m just saying it would be … inconvenient.”
“Uh-huh.” You grin, shifting onto your side to face him fully. “I don’t know, Max. Lando’s been looking pretty good lately. He might surprise you tomorrow.”
Max’s hand slides to your waist, pulling you closer. “You’re really going to sit here, in my bed, and tell me your brother is going to beat me?”
“I’m just saying it’s possible,” you tease.
He shakes his head, but there’s a spark of amusement in his eyes. “Alright, then. If you’re so confident, let’s make it interesting.”
Your eyebrows lift. “Oh? What do you have in mind?”
“A bet,” he says simply.
You prop yourself up on your elbow, intrigued. “A bet?”
Max nods, his smirk growing. “If I win the race tomorrow and take the championship, you owe me a favor. Anything I want.”
You raise an eyebrow. “Anything?”
“Anything.”
You consider it for a moment, then ask, “And if Lando finishes ahead of you?”
“Then you get a favor. Anything you want.”
You bite your lip to keep from smiling too broadly. “You really think you’re that unbeatable, huh?”
“I know I am,” he says, his confidence practically radiating off him.
“Alright, Verstappen,” you say, holding out your hand. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”
He clasps your hand in his, his grip firm but warm. “Deal.”
You let your hand linger in his for a moment before pulling it away. “So, what’s this big favor you’re going to ask for if you win?”
He leans back against the pillows, his smirk turning devilish. “You’ll find out when I win.”
“If you win,” you correct, lying back down beside him.
“I’ll win,” he says confidently, his voice low as his hand trails down your back.
You roll your eyes but can’t help the smile that creeps onto your face. “You’re insufferable, you know that?”
“And yet, here you are,” he says, pulling you closer until your head rests against his chest.
You can hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, and for a moment, the room falls quiet. It’s peaceful in a way you don’t get to experience often, and you savor it.
“You know,” you say after a while, your voice quiet, “if Lando does win tomorrow, it’s not because you’re not good enough. He’s just …”
“Your brother?” Max finishes, his tone teasing.
You laugh softly. “Yeah, that too. But he’s been working so hard for this, Max. You both have. It’s … complicated.”
He runs a hand through your hair, his touch gentle. “I know. But on the track, it’s not complicated. It’s just me, the car, and the finish line. No brothers, no girlfriends. Just racing.”
You tilt your head to look up at him. “And what about after the race?”
“After the race …” He pauses, his fingers brushing against your cheek. “After the race, I’m just me. And you’re just you. That doesn’t change, no matter what.”
You don’t respond right away, letting his words sink in. Then, with a small smile, you say, “You’re really not scared at all, are you?”
“Of Lando? No,” he says, his voice light. “Of you? A little.”
You laugh, shoving him lightly. “Good. You should be.”
He catches your hand again, this time pressing a kiss to your palm. “I’ll remember that.”
You let out a soft sigh, your body relaxing against his. “You’d better get some sleep, Verstappen. You’ve got a big day tomorrow.”
He hums in agreement, but instead of pulling away, he leans in, pressing his lips to your neck. “One more kiss,” he murmurs against your skin.
You close your eyes, your breath hitching slightly. “Just one?”
He pulls back just enough to meet your eyes, his smirk returning. “Maybe two.”
You shake your head, laughing softly as he pulls you back under the covers.
And for now, the world outside doesn’t matter.
***
The final lap of the Las Vegas Grand Prix feels endless. The crowd’s roar grows louder with every corner, drowning out even the hum of the engines. Your hands are clammy as you grip the edge of your seat in the Red Bull garage, your eyes glued to the screen. Max’s car slices through the neon-lit streets of Vegas, and Lando is right behind him.
It’s close. Too close.
“Come on, Lando,” you mutter under your breath, though your heart isn’t entirely in it.
Max is P5. Lando is P6. A single position apart. If it stays this way, the championship is Max’s.
You’re not sure who you’re rooting for anymore.
The chequered flag waves as Max crosses the line, and your both heart drops and soars. P5. It’s done.
“MAX VERSTAPPEN, YOU ARE THE 2024 WORLD CHAMPION!” GP’s voice explodes over the team radio, his excitement nearly incomprehensible.
Max’s laughter comes through the speakers, unrestrained and wild. It’s a sound you know all too well — relief, joy, triumph all rolled into one.
“Yessss!” Max shouts. “That was incredible! Thank you so much for this season!”
You can’t help the smile tugging at your lips, even as the realization sinks in. He won. He really won.
The camera cuts to the Red Bull garage, where the team is in chaos — cheers, hugs, champagne spraying already. Christian adjusts his headset, leaning in to speak.
“Max, congratulations, mate. What an unbelievable season. You’ve done it again.”
“Thanks, Christian. Four in a row — unreal.”
You watch the screen as Max’s car slows on the cooldown lap, weaving slightly in celebration. You know him well enough to see it, even through the helmet — the ease in his shoulders, the grin he must be wearing.
Then his voice cuts through the radio again, this time steadier, more purposeful.
“And just so you know, I’m calling in my favor now.”
Christian’s confused laugh is audible even through the crackling radio. “Your favor? What are you talking about?”
You freeze, the air catching in your lungs.
Max chuckles, low and mischievous. “I had a bet with my girlfriend. I told her I’d win tonight. She owes me a favor, and I know exactly what I want.”
Your stomach flips, a mixture of dread and anticipation.
GP’s voice comes through, confused but amused. “Are we supposed to know what this favor is?”
“No, no,” Max says, his tone casual but firm. “But you’ll find out soon enough.”
Christian presses again, trying to pry it out of him. “Come on, Max. What’s the favor?”
There’s a pause, the kind that feels deliberate, like Max is savoring the moment.
“I want to marry her. Tonight. Right here in Vegas.”
The words hit you like a bolt of lightning, your pulse racing.
GP bursts out laughing. “Wait, what? Are you serious?”
“Dead serious,” Max replies, his voice steady, no hint of hesitation.
You sit frozen, your heart thundering in your chest. Did he just-
“Max,” Christian says, a mixture of disbelief and laughter in his tone, “does she even know about this?”
“She does now,” Max says, and you can hear the grin in his voice.
The team radio falls silent for a moment, and the TV commentary fills the void as the podium finishers begin to line up. But you barely register any of it.
Max is proposing. No — not proposing. Declaring.
The camera pans to his car as he pulls into parc fermé, the four-time World Champion. The team swarms him, pulling him from the car, hoisting him into the air. The crowd’s cheers are deafening, but all you can think about is his voice in your head.
“I want to marry her. Tonight.”
You barely notice when someone taps your shoulder, Max’s PR officer. “You should get down to the celebrations,” she says, her voice brimming with excitement. “He’ll want you there.”
Your legs feel like jelly as you stand, weaving through the sea of Red Bull personnel to get to the barriers.
***
When you finally see him, his helmet is off, his face flushed from the race and grinning so wide it’s like he’s glowing. He spots you instantly, cutting through the crowd like no one else exists.
“Max,” you start, but he doesn’t let you finish.
“You heard me,” he says, his voice low but firm, his eyes locked on yours. “I want to marry you tonight.”
You stare at him, still trying to catch up. “You’re insane.”
He steps closer, his hand finding yours, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Probably. But I’m serious.”
“Max, you just won a world championship,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady. “You’re supposed to be celebrating, not-”
“I am celebrating,” he interrupts, his voice softening. “With you. And I don’t want to wait anymore. I’ve known for years that I want you. Why wait?”
Your heart feels like it might burst out of your chest. “This is insane. People don’t just get married in Vegas on a whim.”
He tilts his head, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “People do it all the time, actually.”
“Max-”
“I love you,” he says, his voice dropping lower. “I love you, and I want to start the rest of my life with you. Tonight. Right now.”
You can feel the weight of everyone’s eyes on you — the team, the media, everyone waiting for your reaction. But in this moment, it’s just the two of you.
“Say yes,” he whispers, his forehead resting against yours. “Say yes, and let me win you, too.”
You laugh, a shaky, breathless sound that comes out more like a sob. “You’re impossible.”
“And you love me for it.”
You take a deep breath, your hand tightening around his. “Fine,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “Yes.”
The smile that breaks across his face is pure joy, unfiltered and blinding. He pulls you into his arms, lifting you off the ground as the team around you erupts into cheers.
“Alright, Verstappen,” you say, laughing as he spins you. “You’ve got your favor. Let’s get married.”
***
The wedding chapel is everything you expected it to be: over-the-top, tacky in the most endearing way, and bathed in flickering neon lights. A bright red Cadillac is parked out front, its headlights beaming into the frigid Vegas night. Inside, the carpet is a deep, gaudy red, and plastic flowers line the aisle. The faint smell of cigarettes lingers in the air, clinging to the cheap velvet curtains.
It’s surreal, to say the least.
“This is insane,” you mumble, standing in a side room with Lando, who’s staring at you like he’s still trying to process what’s happening.
“You think this is insane?” He replies, pointing vaguely toward the chapel. “What about the fact that you’re marrying Max Verstappen in a Vegas chapel at 3 a.m. with a guy dressed as Elvis officiating?”
You groan, adjusting the makeshift bouquet of roses someone from the Red Bull team had pulled together. “Don’t remind me.”
Lando smirks, leaning against the doorframe. “I don’t think I have to. This is going to live in my head rent-free for the rest of my life.”
You shoot him a look. “You don’t have to be here, you know.”
“Are you kidding?” He folds his arms, the grin never leaving his face. “I wouldn’t miss this for anything. Besides, who else is going to walk you down the aisle?”
Your stomach flips at the thought. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
Lando softens a little, stepping closer. “Hey,” he says, his voice quieter now, “you sure about this? I mean, it’s Max. And Vegas. And Elvis.”
You bite your lip, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your dress. “I’m sure.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” you say, meeting his eyes. “I love him, Lando. He’s ridiculous, and he drives me insane, but I love him.”
Lando watches you for a moment, then sighs dramatically. “Well, I guess if anyone’s crazy enough to keep up with Max, it’s you.”
“Gee, thanks,” you say dryly, but your smile betrays you.
There’s a knock on the door, and one of the chapel staff pokes their head in. “We’re ready for you.”
Your heart leaps into your throat.
Lando claps his hands together, his grin back in full force. “Alright, let’s do this.”
***
The chapel is even more ridiculous than you’d imagined. A man dressed as Elvis stands at the altar, adjusting his oversized sunglasses and strumming a guitar idly as he waits. Max is already there, looking completely at ease, as if this is just another podium ceremony.
When he sees you, his face lights up, and any lingering nerves you had melt away.
“You ready?” Lando whispers, offering his arm.
“As I’ll ever be,” you whisper back, looping your arm through his.
The music starts — a surprisingly heartfelt rendition of “Can’t Help Falling in Love” sung by Elvis — and you can’t help but laugh under your breath.
“You’re walking down the aisle to Elvis,” Lando says, shaking his head. “Unreal.”
“Shut up,” you mutter, though you’re smiling.
The walk feels like it takes forever and no time at all. Max’s gaze is fixed on you the entire time, his expression soft and unguarded in a way you don’t see often. By the time you reach him, your cheeks hurt from smiling so much.
Lando hands you off with an exaggerated sigh. “Take care of her. She’s the only one who can put up with you.”
“Don’t worry,” Max says, smirking as he shakes Lando’s hand. “I plan to.”
Lando steps back, but not before whispering, “If you hurt her, I’ll crash you out next season.”
Max laughs, then turns back to you, his hands finding yours.
“You look amazing,” he says, his voice low enough that only you can hear.
“I look ridiculous,” you whisper back.
His grin widens. “Even better.”
Elvis clears his throat, drawing your attention. “Alright, folks, let’s get this show on the road!”
The ceremony is exactly as absurd as you’d expected, and yet somehow, it feels perfect.
“Dearly beloved,” Elvis begins, his voice smooth and practiced, “we are gathered here tonight to witness the union of Max and …” He pauses, looking at you with a raised eyebrow.
You realize no one ever told him your name.
“Uh,” you startle back to reality for a moment, “Y/N.”
“Max and Y/N,” Elvis continues smoothly, as if this sort of thing happens all the time.
He launches into the ceremony, peppering in car-themed metaphors and Elvis song references.
“Marriage,” he says at one point, “is a lot like a road trip. Sometimes it’s smooth sailing, sometimes you hit a few potholes, but as long as you’ve got each other, you’ll always find your way back to Graceland.”
You glance at Max, who’s barely holding back a laugh.
“Are you laughing at our wedding vows?” You whisper.
“I’m laughing at the potholes,” he whispers back.
Elvis continues, undeterred.
When it’s time for the personal vows, Max surprises you.
“I know this is all … unconventional,” he says, his hands still holding yours. “But that’s us, isn’t it? Unconventional. From the first time we met, I knew you were different. You don’t just keep up with me; you challenge me. You push me to be better, on and off the track. And you put up with all my nonsense, which is honestly impressive.”
You laugh, tears stinging your eyes.
“I promise to always be your biggest fan, even when you’re cheering for your brother,” Max continues, his voice softer now. “I promise to always fight for you, always support you, and always love you, no matter how crazy life gets.”
You’re not sure when the tears started falling, but they’re there, hot and fast.
“Your turn,” Elvis says, nodding at you.
You take a shaky breath, your voice trembling. “Max, you drive me crazy. You’re stubborn, competitive, and impossible to argue with. But you’re also kind, loyal, and the most passionate person I’ve ever met. You make me laugh when I don’t want to, and you make me believe in things I never thought I could.”
His eyes soften, and you squeeze his hands tighter.
“I promise to always stand by your side, even when you’re impossible. I promise to love you, challenge you, and never let you win a bet without a fight.”
Max grins, and the rest of the room seems to fade away.
When Elvis finally declares you husband and wife, it feels like the world stops.
“You may now kiss your bride,” he says with a flourish.
Max doesn’t hesitate, pulling you close and kissing you like the world outside doesn’t exist. The room erupts into cheers, Lando’s voice loudest among them.
When you finally pull away, Max leans his forehead against yours, his voice barely a whisper.
“We did it.”
You smile, your hands resting on his chest. “Yeah. We did.”
And just like that, Max Verstappen is your husband.
***
The rest of the night passes in a blur of laughter, chaos, and an overwhelming sense of unreality. The “reception” is cobbled together on the fly, with Red Bull team members and an assortment of drivers spilling out of limos and taxis into a nearby lounge they commandeer for the celebration.
Max stays close to you the entire time, his hand resting on your lower back or entwined with yours. Every time you glance at him, he’s already looking at you, his expression so full of love it makes your chest ache.
Eventually, you both slip away from the commotion, winding your way back to Max’s penthouse. The city hums below, the neon lights still pulsing with energy, but inside, everything feels quiet. Peaceful.
You’re curled up together in bed, the chaos of the night left behind, when Max finally speaks. “So,” he says, breaking the comfortable silence, “are you going to tell me what your favor would’ve been if you had won the bet?”
You laugh softly, shaking your head. “I don’t think you’re ready for that, Verstappen.”
His brows lift, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. “Oh, now you have to tell me.”
You tilt your head, feigning deep thought. “Well, it would’ve been something big. Something life-changing.”
His grin widens, and he leans in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Life-changing, huh? What, were you going to make me switch teams? Retire early?”
You smirk, letting the pause hang in the air just long enough for him to grow impatient. “A ring.”
Max blinks, caught off guard for a split second. “A ring?”
“Mm-hmm.” You trace lazy circles on his chest, pretending not to notice his stunned expression. “I was going to ask for a ring. But you, being Max Verstappen, had to be a few laps ahead and beat me to it. Like usual.”
His laughter bursts out, warm and unrestrained. “You’re telling me you were going to propose to me?”
You shrug, unable to keep the playful smile off your face. “What can I say? I wanted to beat you at your own game.”
Max shifts onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow to look at you fully. His grin is impossibly wide, his blue eyes sparkling with amusement and something deeper. “You’re unbelievable.”
“You married me,” you point out, grinning back.
“I did,” he agrees, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. “And I’d do it again. But I have to say, I think I prefer this version. Me proposing. You saying yes. Vegas. Elvis.”
You laugh, swatting his chest lightly. “You’re never going to let me live this down, are you?”
“Not a chance.” He’s still smiling, but his voice softens, turning serious. “I love you, you know. And I don’t care if it’s Vegas or a ten-minute ceremony or some ridiculous bet. This — us — feels right. It always has.”
Your teasing expression falters, replaced by something softer. “I love you, too. Even if you are insufferable.”
He chuckles, pulling you closer. “Insufferable and married. To you. Forever.”
You roll your eyes but can’t help the smile that spreads across your face. “Forever, huh?”
“Forever,” he repeats firmly, pressing a kiss to your temple. “And just for the record, I would’ve said yes if you’d proposed first.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” His lips brush against yours, his voice barely above a whisper. “But I’m glad I won this time.”
You laugh against his mouth, your arms winding around his neck as you pull him closer. “Don’t get used to it, Verstappen.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it, Mrs. Verstappen.”
The name catches you off guard, and your heart stutters in your chest. Mrs. Verstappen. It’s ridiculous and perfect and makes you want to laugh and cry at the same time.
“You like that?” He asks, clearly noticing your reaction.
You bite your lip, nodding. “I think I could get used to it.”
His grin returns, smug and full of mischief. “Good. Because you don’t have a choice now.”
You shake your head, laughing as you lean into him, letting the weight of the night settle around you. The city lights outside keep shining, the noise of Las Vegas carrying on far below, but in this moment, it’s just the two of you.
And that’s all that matters.
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misswynters · 2 days ago
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Ma Meilleure Amour
featuring. ekko x fem!reader
a/n. doing my duty as a writer to fill the ekko tag with fics of him only (it’s translated to my best love)
inspired by. the song Ma Meilleure Ennemie and the scene with ekko and jinx in act iii (listen to it while reading)
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Everything felt different. The streets of Zaun had the ever-present haze of smog seem softer, its grim edge dulled by the warm hum of neon lights. The streets bustled with life, as they always did, but the night gave the chaos a certain charm. The glow of green and pink signs reflected off damp cobblestones, while the occasional flicker of a malfunctioning lamp sent ripples of color through shallow puddles.
You walked side by side with Ekko, your steps slow and aimless, as if the two of you had all the time in the world. You didn’t, of course. With how Zaun always had a way of reminding you that the clock never stopped ticking. But right now, under the swirl of lights and the faint hiss of steam vents, it felt like time had paused just for the two of you.
Ekko’s hand brushed against yours every so often, and though he wasn’t one to initiate touch easily, you could tell he didn’t mind the closeness. He always had this way of being effortlessly cool, his swagger and wit making it seem like nothing fazed him. But you knew him better than most. You saw the weight he carried, the pressure of being a leader, a fighter, and a kid all at once. And tonight, you were determined to remind him what it felt like to just…be.
“Ever think Zaun’s kinda pretty at night?” you mused, breaking the comfortable silence.
Ekko glanced at you, one eyebrow raised, before looking around. “Pretty? Dunno if I’d call it that. More like…gritty with a side of a green glow.”
You laughed, nudging him playfully. “You’re so dramatic.”
“Says the one waxing poetic about this place,” he shot back, his grin tugging at the corners of his lips.
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “Fine, maybe I’m seeing it through rose-colored glasses. Or maybe I just like walking around with you.”
That earned a chuckle from him, the sound low and warm. He shoved his hands in his pockets, his shoulders relaxing as he leaned closer to you. “Well, when you put it that way…” The two of you wandered through winding alleys and across rickety bridges, the air thick with the scent of metal and oil. Every so often, Ekko would point out a shortcut he’d used for one of his time-bending escapades or share a story about an adventure with the Firelights.
But then he led you down a narrow path you hadn’t noticed before, his fingers brushing yours briefly to guide you. At the end of the path, you stepped into a beautiful hidden oasis. A rooftop garden tucked away from Zaun’s usual grit and grime. The first thing you noticed was the lights. Strings of mismatched lanterns crisscrossed the space, casting a soft, golden glow over everything. Tiny fairy lights were woven through the vines that climbed up makeshift trellises, their warm flicker like little stars in the night. The plants themselves were a mix of scrappy greenery and surprisingly vibrant flowers, their colors popping against the muted tones of the city below.
“Woah…” you breathed, turning to him with wide eyes.
He shrugged, trying to play it cool, but the faint blush on his cheeks gave him away. “It’s nothing fancy. Just a spot I’ve been working on.”
“Are you kidding? It’s perfect,” you said, your voice filled with awe.
He rubbed the back of his neck, his gaze darting away from yours. “Figured it’d be nice to have a place to get away, y’know? Somewhere quiet.”
You stepped forward, taking it all in. A small wooden bench sat in the center of the garden, its surface worn but sturdy. Around it, the plants swayed gently in the cool breeze, their leaves catching the light just enough to shimmer.
“Come on,” Ekko said, his hand lightly brushing the small of your back as he guided you to the bench. “I didn’t bring you here just to stand around.”
You sat down, the wood creaking softly under your weight. Ekko settled beside you, close enough that his knee pressed against yours. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the quiet hum of the lights and the distant sounds of Zaun filling the space. It was a working pattern. There was always a comfortable silence between the two of you.
“How long have you been working on this?” you asked softly.
“Couple months,” he said, leaning back with his arms stretched across the bench. “Takes a while to get plants to grow in a place like this. But I dunno…it feels good to build something, y’know? Instead of just tearing things down.”
You glanced at him, your chest tightening at the softness in his voice. Ekko didn’t let people see this side of him often though. I mean this was the boy who dreamed of a better Zaun, the one who carried the weight of his community on his shoulders.
“It’s beautiful,” you said, resting your head against his shoulder. “Just like you.”
He laughed softly, the sound warm and a little shy. “You’re laying it on thick tonight, huh?”
“Just telling the truth,” you said, closing your eyes as his warmth seeped into you.
The two of you sat like that for a while, wrapped up in the stillness of the garden. Ekko’s hand found yours, his fingers intertwining with yours in a way that felt natural, like you were always meant to fit together.
“Hey,” he said after a while, his voice quiet.
“Yeah?”
“Thanks. For, y’know…being here.”
You lifted your head to look at him, your heart aching at the sincerity in his eyes. “Of course,” you said softly while winking. “You’re worth it, Ekko.”
His gaze lingered on yours for a moment, the golden light casting shadows across his face. Then he smiled. It was real, genuine smile that made your chest feel light and full all at once.
“C’mere,” he said, pulling you closer until you were practically in his lap. His arms wrapped around you, his chin resting on your shoulder as you leaned into him.
“This is nice,” you murmured, your fingers tracing absent patterns on his arm.
“Yeah,” he said, his voice a little muffled. “It is.”
There it was again, the comfortable silence. The garden was quiet, bathed in the golden light of the mismatched lanterns. You rested your head on Ekko’s shoulder, feeling the steady rhythm of his breath against you. His fingers were still intertwined with yours, his thumb brushing small, absentminded circles against your knuckles.
It was peaceful, almost too perfect for Zaun, where tranquility was a rare luxury. The hum of distant machinery and the faint chatter of the streets below were a backdrop to your own private world. You thought this was it, that the night couldn’t get any better. But Ekko had other plans.
Suddenly, he shifted away from you, his weight leaving the bench as he stood. His warmth leaving your body. You blinked up at him, confused as he turned to face you, his signature grin tugging at the corners of his lips. He extended a hand toward you, palm up, the glow of the garden lights reflecting in his dark eyes.
“Dance with me,” he said, his voice soft but brimming with an irresistible playfulness.
You tilted your head, a laugh escaping you. “Dance? Here?”
“Why not?” He wiggled his fingers, urging you to take his hand.
You hesitated, glancing around. “Ekko, there’s no music.”
He smirked, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “Oh, ye of little faith.”
Reaching into his pocket, Ekko pulled out a small, beaten up speaker, a relic salvaged from some forgotten corner of Zaun. He fiddled with it for a moment before a warm melody crackled to life, filling the air with a gentle rhythm.
You stared at him in disbelief, your lips parting in surprise. “You planned this?”
He shrugged, trying to play it cool but failing miserably as a proud smile broke through. “Maybe.”
Shaking your head with a soft laugh, you placed your hand in his, the warmth of his palm grounding you. “Alright, Clockstopper,” you teased. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”
Ekko pulled you to your feet, guiding you to the center of the garden. The music swelled around you, soft and sweet, a contrast to the chaos of Zaun. His other hand found its place on your waist, and he held you close, his movements easy and unhurried. At first, you tried to match his rhythm, your steps tentative as you followed his lead. But it wasn’t long before your foot accidentally landed on his.
“Oh, sorry!” you gasped, pulling back slightly.
Ekko winced dramatically, clutching his chest as if you’d mortally wounded him. “You’re killing me here,” he said, his voice laced with mock pain.
You rolled your eyes, a grin tugging at your lips. “Don’t be such a baby.”
“Baby?” He laughed, spinning you unexpectedly. You stumbled slightly but caught yourself, the sound of your shared laughter echoing in the garden.
The two of you continued like that, swaying and spinning under the lanterns. Every so often, you’d step on his foot again, and he’d exaggerate his reaction, making you laugh until your cheeks hurt. But then, as the song shifted to a slower melody, Ekko’s movements became gentler, more deliberate. He pulled you closer, your bodies impossibly near. You could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin, the faint scent of zauns atmosphere lingering on him. Your eyes met his, and for a moment, the world seemed to fade away. The golden light reflected in his eyes, making them shimmer like they held their own constellation. There was something unspoken in his gaze, something raw and real that made your heart stutter.
“Ekko…” you whispered, your voice barely audible over the music.
He didn’t say anything, just leaned in slowly, giving you enough time to pull away if you wanted to. But you didn’t. Instead, you closed the distance, your lips meeting his in a kiss that was soft and sweet, filled with everything words couldn’t express. Your hands found their way around his neck, pulling him closer as his arms wrapped around your waist. The world seemed to tilt, the glow of the lanterns and the soft hum of the music swirling around you in a haze of light and sound.
Time felt irrelevant—ironic, considering who you were with. All that mattered was the way he held you, the way his lips moved against yours with a tenderness that made your chest ache.
When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your skin. He chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through you. “I love you,” he murmured, his voice steady and sure.
Your heart swelled at his words, a warmth spreading through you that had nothing to do with the lights around you. Smiling, you leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I love you too,” you said, the words as natural as breathing.
Ekko grinned, his hands tightening around your waist as he pressed a series of quick, playful kisses to your face—your cheeks, your nose, your forehead. Each kiss was accompanied by a soft giggle from you, his affection spilling over in a way that was so uniquely him.
“Ekko, stop,” you laughed, trying to pull away as he kissed the corner of your mouth.
“Never,” he said, his voice full of mock defiance as he caught your lips in another kiss.
The two of you stayed like that, wrapped up in each other, the rest of the world forgotten. The music played on, the lights flickered, and Zaun’s ever-present hum seemed softer, almost distant. As the night stretched on, you found yourselves back on the bench, your head resting on Ekko’s shoulder as he absentmindedly played with your fingers. The garden felt like a dream, a little slice of peace carved out of the chaos. And in that moment, with Ekko by your side and the glow of the lanterns above you, everything felt right. Almost perfect.
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heegyukeluv · 2 days ago
Text
complementary - the physics of your body [part 2] (sjy)
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pairing: brother's best friend!jake x afab!reader
synopsis: Jake loved physics as much as he loved you.
my's note: part 2 is here earlier than expected because i'm anxious 😀
warnings: trauma from parents, fluff, angst, drama/arguments, more physics stuff lol, pet names (babe, doll, good girl…), reader blushing/turning red!, reader have a bit of an explosive demeanor, SMUT - so minors DO NOT interact!, unprotected sex (don’t do it!!!), oral (f.), squirting, jk cum inside, overstimulation (f.), bathtub sex. lmk if i missed something!
wc: 13k
NOT PROOFREAD.
part 1
Saying you cried all night would be an understatement. Having feelings for Jake now felt like a bittersweet ache, hard to swallow and to have close to you. You couldn’t help but get into a spiral of darker thoughts.
Was it worth it?
Jake was in your mind throughout the entire night.
When you woke up the next morning, your eyes felt like they weighed a ton, and your body craved a rest you knew you couldn’t give it – not anytime soon, at least. Both physically and mentally, you were utterly drained.
You had spent part of the night wide awake, crying and torn between two nearly impossible choices: breaking things off with Jake or fighting to keep him. It was a strange, bitter feeling that sat heavily in the pit of your stomach. It didn’t dissolve with the tears or the long hours – it only lingered, raw and unresolved.
Jay ignored you on Saturday. And again on Sunday. You ignored Jake on Saturday. And again on Sunday.
Jake  assumed your sudden distance was due to your determined spirit, convinced you were throwing yourself into studying for your final exams. He didn’t want to disturb you and instead left sweet, encouraging messages to cheer you on without adding to your stress. But something in the way you responded – or rather, in the way you didn’t – planted a seed of doubt in his mind.
He called you and you dismissed.
The lump in your throat only heavening within each missed call and message left on read, realizing you could be hurting Jake as much as you were hurt.
You just didn’t know what to do, what to expect or where to run, because everything seemed wrong or difficult; Jay wasn’t there for you, and you couldn't reach Jake because he was the reason Jay wasn’t there for you.
Messy, confused, chaotic.
As the night settled quietly in your apartment, you opted not to leave your room. Your face swollen with heavy tears that spilled just like a waterfall. 
But then a sudden outburst of words being spoken loudly in your living room got your ears perked, your heart speeding it beats, your stomach knotting in despair as you made your way towards the noise.
“Where is she?”
“You’ll not see her.”
After feeling something was off, his instincts screamed for him to take action, so Jake immediately sped his car all the way to your apartment. He had his mind racing, spinning even, a dreadful feeling creeping inside his chest while each possible scenario played out in his head. But nothing, absolutely nothing, prepared him for what he found when he finally landed his eyes on you.
Your figure appeared in the doorway the very moment Jake asked about you, almost as if his words had summoned you, drawing you in like an unshakable spell. Under different circumstances, it might have been beautiful, poetic even. But not now. Not like this.
“Y/N! Oh, my God," Jake exclaimed, his wide eyes filling with a mixture of relief and alarm. He expertly sidestepped Jay’s attempt to block him, his focus zeroed in on you as though nothing else mattered.
You flinched as he closed the space between you, your fists clenched at your sides, trembling slightly as you let him pull you into his arms. His hold was firm but not overbearing, like he was trying to shield you from a world you desperately wanted to escape.
“What happened?” he asked, his voice gentle yet laced with urgency, concern dripping from every word. Then, without waiting for an answer, his gaze darted to Jay, his tone sharpening into something far more dangerous. “What the fuck happened?”
The question hung in the air, heavy and crackling with tension. The room felt suffocating, the silence a cruel prelude to whatever would come next.
Your body gave up. Jake's scent enveloped you like a mist, soothing and soft, allowing you to be your most raw version – the one in desperate need of refuge. The painful sobs tore through you, your body shaking against Jake’s chest as he tightened his hold protectively, as though he could physically keep your pain away.
“You two happened.”
Jake stiffened as Jay’s words cut through the atmosphere, your entire body shuddering, a pang in your chest leaving you breathless for a second. Jake’s head snapped towards his best friend, panic underlying his voice as he feared the worst.
“What?” 
Jay let out a bitter laugh, devoid of any humor. “She’s my sister, Jake,” he could have stopped just at that, it would be enough to make Jake's terror increase significantly. But he didn’t, he made sure that his every word was loud and clear. “My little sister! Did you even think for one second before–” He stopped, gulping while a hand ran through his blonde strands, eyes never wavering. “Before hooking up with her? I know about your fucking casual relationships, Jake.” 
Jake’s grip on you loosened just enough for him to take a step back, but his touch remained close, grounding. He opened his mouth to respond, but you beat him to it, your voice raw and trembling.
“It’s not just a casual–”
“Please, stop,” you whispered, your eyes brimming with fresh tears, fluttering close, and not really aiming for anyone in particular. “I can’t handle this right now.”
Jay’s expression faltered for a moment, realizing he might have gone too far. On the other hand, Jake looked at you, confused. 
“Please, go.” You sniffed, unwillingly pushing Jake away from you. He stumbled on his feet a little, offering you the most lost, baffled puppy eyes. You wished you had kept your eyes closed, the pain in your chest growing heavier each passing moment. “I– I appreciate you for coming, but… But just go, please.”
Guilt. You felt the guilt slowly and painfully eating away at you. Guilt for hurting the one person who cared most about you. Guilt for letting things unfold the way they did. Guilt for liking – loving – Jake.
You were torn between confronting Jay, your only family that remained by your side to fight for Jake, and letting Jake go, as a way to go back to how it was before.
There was no possible choice, everything felt like a fresh, open wound and the argument only put pressure on it.
“Alright.” Jake whispered, his eyes lowering until they rested on the floor. “I’m going, because you’re asking me to,” he nodded to himself, quickly taking a glance at Jay over his shoulder before approaching you; the phantom of his touch lingering on your fingers as he let go of your hand. “But I’m not leaving you, Y/N. Not now that I finally have you.”
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Jay had not spoken a word to you in a whole week.
He avoided the slightest interaction with you, going out of his way to ensure that your paths rarely crossed. Yet, every day, he still managed to prepare your full meals, leaving them meticulously arranged on the counter, as if to fulfill a silent duty. It was a strange contrast ��� his actions speaking of care, while his absence screamed louder than words ever could.
Jay would leave the house earlier than normal and return just in time to prevent having you under his line of sight, a perfectly calculated timing you wished to end soon.
The unspoken tension lingered in every corner of the house, a suffocating reminder of the fracture between you both.
He didn't strict your routine nor made you change your lifestyle, but it weighed just as hard. It somehow felt way worse than when your parents treated you back then, yelling harsh words alongside punishments to put you back on the line or regain control over your life.
Receiving the heaviness of your brother’s silence cut deeper than anything else, mainly because he was your only true family.
On the other hand, Jake was dealing with a double loss. It hurt to feel like losing his best friend, to watch his messages being ignored and having his calls go to voicemail, to be prohibited to step into his house under any circumstances.
But the idea of losing you definitely started to hurt way more.
In the middle of the week, you called him. Your voice was weak, almost fragile, and it made his heart squeeze in his chest.
“I aced my physics exam,” you said, barely above a whisper. “I wanted to thank you… for everything.”
“No way!” Jake exclaimed, his voice lighting up with a rush of pride and excitement as he hid himself in the company’s bathroom. A big smile tugged at the corner of his lips, the one he always wore when he was truly happy for you. You couldn’t see it, though. “I’m so proud of you, baby. I knew you would beat that exam's ass.”
That small interaction somehow felt like a bullet had lodged in his chest and he couldn’t run to the hospital to resolve it. It was almost robotic, far from utterly genuine, because there was a thick smoke of tension that suffocated his senses, that reminded him you were slipping through your fingers like grains of sand. God, he was your boyfriend! Not a random.
You giggled at his choice of words, a sweet, genuine sound that had not been present in days. The sound of your happiness made his heart shrink, as if it was both breaking and expanding at the same time. He wanted to hear more of it, wanted to make it last forever. The warmth in his chest turned into a wave of determination.
“Thanks to you, Jake,” you whispered, the words soft but carrying the weight of everything unspoken.
And without missing a beat, Jake was already planning his next move. “That’s it. I’m coming to pick you up.”
The certainty in his voice was unwavering. You tried to argue, to refuse, to come up with something to stop him, but he wasn’t having it.
“Your work–”
“I can leave early.”
“But it’s far–”
“I don’t care.”
He was already thinking of you and you only – of the way you deserved to be celebrated, of how he just wanted to hold you close, to kiss you. He missed you so fucking much it hurt, it painfully hurt.
“I’m picking you up,” he repeated, this time softer but no less sure.
“But–”
“Don’t even try to argue.”
You could hear him smiling through the phone, and it made your heart ache. Why did this feel so wrong, and yet so right at the same time?
“Wait for me, my angel. I’m on my way,” he finished, his words like a promise.
You felt your heart race, even if a part of you wanted to protest, to tell him that he didn’t need to go. But at that moment, you didn’t have the strength to stop him, so you waited. You waited for the man of your life.
Ever since, Jake began picking you up from your classes every single day. He would have his lunch with you and video call you during the night, singing a sweet lullaby until you fell asleep. He bought you a cake and kissed you deeply to celebrate your achievement, once again voicing out how proud he was.
You needed support, you needed someone that had your back, and Jake was your boyfriend, the one who should be giving you the comfort you deserved.
It was unbearable to watch you withering quietly and not having much to do other than offer some hugs and kisses, other than have his hands on yours, other than his caresses on your hair. 
However, as soon as you started to lit up again with your jokes and smiles, Jake realized it was worth it. His efforts were worth it, and he would keep doing a million things, a million times over, if it meant seeing you happy.
But there were days when you slipped back into the overwhelming sadness, due the silent reminder from Jay that his treatment of you had not changed – and maybe never would.
You couldn’t help but believe he felt betrayed, and you didn’t have the strength or courage to change his perception.
Deep down, you knew yourself well enough to understand that any confrontation would be ugly – because, beyond sadness, you also carried the weight of a quiet, lingering anger.
“He just needs time,” Jake said, offering you the same reassurance every damn day.
Two weeks have passed since Jay discovered your relationship with his best friend, but it felt like ages, painful ages, days that you had to drag yourself through it, finding perseverance in the depths of your soul to keep going, keep pushing through it.
And you don’t think you would be able to do it if it wasn't for Jake.
He was now hugging you, one hand kindly caressing your back, the other firmly holding yours. You had curled up against him in the car, your body trembling as you sobbed into his chest, trying to calm yourself by hearing his gentle breathing.
The sound of your sobs broke his heart. He knew you didn’t want to cry, but he also knew there was nothing he could say or do to make it stop. All he could do was hold you, let you pour out your emotions, and be there for you.
“I don't even know why I'm crying right now,” you said with a broken voice, burying your face deeper on the crook of his neck. “Shh, it’s okay,” Jake whispered softly, his voice low, the kind of soothing tone he knew you wanted to hear. “You don’t have to know. Just let go, my love.” And so you did. The pain, the confusion, the despair, the anger, everything weighing on you felt too much to bear, flowing away through your wrenching tears. “I don’t know what to do, Jake,” you mumbled between sobs, your voice shaky, “I never thought he’d be like this… It’s been so long. I never thought I’d lose him.” Jake’s grip on you tightened. He understood the intensity of your pain; he could see it in your eyes, feel it in your touch, in your words. He never felt this way before, like lingering on a thin string of losing his mind, feeling so, so useless. Jake wished he could erase all your pain and sorrow, or at least transfer it to him. 
On that very day, Jake made a quiet promise of never, ever, breaking your heart. 
“You won’t lose him,” he said gently, nuzzling his chin on the top of your head, the shampoo scent calming his nerves a little. He hoped to give you the same comfort. “You just need to give him time. He’ll come around, I know it.”
You let out a deep, fragile sigh, your shoulders trembling as you struggled to stop the tears streaming freely from your eyes, sobs echoing through the car softly as you stained Jake’s shirt. He seemed not to care, arms around you as though he could shield you from the gloom that slowly and painfully swallowed you, as though he could maintain you with him, forever. 
Jake held you as close as possible, as reassuring as possible, as grounding as possible; a comforting, sweet, gentle cocoon anchoring you, as his hands drew subtle circles on your back.
With a mild push, you pulled away from Jake embrace just enough to murmur, voice raw, shaking. 
“Sorry, I dampened your shirt.”
“I love you.”
Jake said, nearly at the same time.
On that very day, Jake made a loud promise of loving you unconditionally forever. 
The words tumbled out of his mouth, soft yet firm, as though they had been sitting on the tip of his tongue, waiting for the right moment. His voice carried a certainty that cut through the fog of your sorrow, the three words echoing louder than your sobs ever could.
You peered up with your glossy eyes, shooting Jake a flabbergasted glance that replaced your broken expression. His chest tightened, his heart nearly shattering at the sight of you, so brittle, so vulnerable, so utterly… destroyed.
Jake wanted to do more than just hold you. He wanted to wrap you in the warmest, coziest blanket and protect you from the world and all the pain it had inflicted. He wanted to whisper reassurances until his voice gave out, to erase every tear from your cheeks with gentle kisses, to love you so deeply that you would never feel this hollow again.
He wanted to shower you with love.
The same love he was sure he nurtured for you. The same love that had been haunting his entire being to voice out, suffocating, desperate to be born into the world you both shared. The same love he discovered he loved to feel. 
Jake loved to love you, because you made it easy to.
“What?” Your voice was barely above a whisper, your brows furrowing slightly.
“I love you. I don't know what to do in this situation, but I know I love you. And I think you should know too.”
You hesitated, mouth opening and closing repeatedly while no words came out, because you had nothing that equaled the sudden sweet burning sensation that spread inside your chest as you heard those pretty words. 
Love.
You didn’t remember loving someone as much as you loved Jake.
Over the past few days, Jake had made it increasingly difficult for your love to remain a mere whisper in the depths of your mind. He had proven himself deserving of your affection, your care, your attention – because he gave just as much, if not more, in return. He had broken through the protective barriers of your heart, the ones that kept strangers away; except Jake wasn’t a stranger anymore. Perhaps, deep down, he never was.
Beyond the chaos within you, the silent, yet deafening conflict of your situation with Jay, Jake had stirred a yearning inside you – a desperate urge to scream to the world that he was the love of your life.
It was an uncontrollable desire to say it out loud, to tell him you loved him the way a painter loves their muse, the way a musician treasures their draft, the way a photographer cherishes their landscapes.
It was a love that was raw, sincere, genuine – achingly so. And it was a love you were happy to know it was mutual.
Jake was the most gorgeous star, brightening your profoundly clouded sky. 
“Jake–” You finally managed to speak, not exactly aiming for anything other than just… Say something. But Jake interrupted you with a kiss. 
“You don't have to say it back.” He murmured, lips grazing on yours as he cupped your cheeks, gentle eyes tracing the lines of your mildly swollen face. You still looked stunning. He couldn’t help but sigh, a mix of adoration and longing in his gaze. “I know I caught you off guard. I'm not asking you to love me back right away.” He tilted his head, his eyes filled with an undeniable tenderness – love, devotion, and the kind of affection that made your heart ache. A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips, like he was fighting to keep it there. "Just know that I, Jaeyun, love you."
You bit your lower lip, but it didn’t do much to contain your wide grin. The tears, once drenched in sorrow, now filled with uncontrollable happiness, exploding in your chest just like fireworks. With a fear of missing the time, you shook your head still in disbelief, leaning in closer as you whispered.
“I love you too, Jake.”
And just like that, Jake had his lips working on your mouth deliberately, distant from what you normally did together. It seemed he wanted to take his time, heartfeltly exploring and appreciating the attachment of your lips together, as though he was memorizing the taste of you. And it was definitely different.
It tasted like love.
Your tongues swirled in a beautiful languid dance, a rhythm only you two could follow, the kind of connection that felt natural and right, like two halves of a whole, complementary.
Jake’s hands slid down to your nape and waist, pulling you closer, guiding you to sit on his lap where you could feel his warmth radiating into you.
There was no rush, no urgency. There was only raw, honest love between you two – pure and untainted. No distractions. No lust. Just the quiet, steady beat of two hearts that had found each other in a world full of noise.
Jake loved you. You loved Jake. And right at that moment, that was all that mattered.
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The car engine sound soothed the silence with a steady hum. The radio played some random song you didn’t bother to pay attention to, not when your head was wandering amidst the chaos happening there. 
Your life was a complete mess and your anxiety bubbling up, not knowing exactly what to expect from that weekend trip.
Yeah, trip.
Just two days ago, Sunghoon showed up at your doorstep holding bags of your favorite food and wearing a pitiful face. You didn’t understand the sudden hug, much less the following waterfall of “I’m sorry’s” he mumbled with a broken voice against your hair while pulling you closer.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know about you and Jake.”
You remember his words vividly, your confused state, your hands now knowing what to do or your brain not fully processing what he just said, because no one actually knew about you and Jake. But your memory made sure not to erase the following addon.
“I unintentionally snitched on you and him.”
Sunghoon stayed the whole night on the verge of crying – and you never saw that man with anything near to glossy eyes, so it seemed to be a real business for him – explaining what happened that night and how Jay found out about your hidden romance with his best friend.
His drunk ass – as he said – went back home way too earlier than both of you expected, and he could have turned a blind eye – ear, in that case – and said nothing if he knew the woman screaming Jake’s name in his bedroom was actually you, and not a random chick – his words.
So he absently texted Jay about it, thinking he was too high on his alcohol trip for hearing your voice screaming Jake’s name, teasing as he said “That would be crazy, right? That girl is really having a good time,” just to get under your brother’s skin as he always did.
However, for his misfortune – and yours –, it was you.
And Sunghoon even showed you the texts, where Jay replied with a brief, simple: “Well. Y/N went to Jake’s to study. Hah.” before turning off his phone and not receiving the next messages Sunghoon sent, trying to ease the situation.
At first you couldn’t help the bitter feeling on the back of your throat as you heard his side of the story, aware of his guilty part on it, nonetheless, to finally have a clarification of what led your relationship with Jay down to shambles was actually relieving, especially when Sunghoon said he had a plan to suggest Jay to go with them in a trip as a way to clear his mind, and then you and Jake would go as well without him knowing, and with everyone together – Heeseung too, since he was part of the friend group – it would be easier to face the problems and wrap it up with a happy ending or whatever.
Sunghoon reassured you that both he and Heeseung were on your side of the story; Jake was a good guy and they trusted him to make you happy. But Sunghoon also understood Jay’s position, since he had sisters, so he could try to help with that part as well.
Everything seemed perfect.
But it didn’t ease your comfort as you drove with Jake towards the destination, not even with his free hand holding yours and kissing the back of it gently every once and while. 
“Are you hungry, my love?”
Your sorrow facade slipped just a little by hearing Jake’s tender words and the cute pet name, still not used to it. 
“A little, yeah. But… I don’t think I can eat right now.”
Though you didn’t see, Jake nodded, knowing better than to try to pursue you out of your stubbornness. Now practically spending entire days with you, he mastered the art of knowing when to push you out of your shell and when not to. That moment you needed silence, comprehension and someone to be there for you just to make sure you were doing fine. 
You couldn’t be more glad for having a man like Jake in your life. 
And quietly, you both wished for that trip to change at least a bit of whatever was going on in Jay’s mind.
So when you both arrived – twenty minutes after the others – and Jake parked his car, you quickly spotted Jay’s blond hair amidst people in the hotel’s lobby. He wore a relaxed face, sitting on one of the couches and happily talking with his friends while they waited for you two.
The makeshift excuse Sunghoon and Heeseung told was that they were all waiting for other two friends they invited from college as well, even naming them as a way to ground the lie. 
Jay didn’t mind waiting for the said people, not at all. But he also didn’t hide his surprised and slightly disgusted face when he saw the actual two friends.
“I’m with you,” Jake muttered close to your ear, holding your hand tightly. “Always.”
You just nodded, feeling the weight on each step you took until you approached them, three pairs of eyes hovering over your presence. 
While Heeseung and Sunghoon happily greeted you both with big, genuine smiles, even hugging you briefly and muttering a quiet “It’s gonna be ok,” Jay, on the other hand, held an unreadable expression. 
“Hey,” you said back, voice coming in a small layered apprehension that didn’t go unnoticed by none of them.
Jay was fighting his inner demons not to cringe after watching you and Jake walking together, side by side like a normal couple, but it was hard when he knew how his friend regularly acted with girls he hooked-up with, how he loved to have a one night type of thing, never really committing. 
You deserved more than just a fleeting pleasant moment. 
They spent a life together as something similar to brothers long enough for Jay to be aware of the consequences of that relationship, the thoughts of you being hurt triggering the worst side of his protectiveness. And to think he would lose his best, closest friend because of that stupidity increased his emotions negatively – he felt betrayed, somehow picturing you both as selfishes who didn’t care about his side in the story.
Jay simply nodded at you both without saying a word, eyes flickering quickly towards your and Jake’s intertwined fingers, taking notice of it. You followed the motion and gulped, unconsciously squeezing your boyfriend’s hand. Jay then drifted his gaze to his friends, a dry laugh escaping his lips.
“Looks like lying to me has become everyone’s favorite pastime lately, hasn’t it?” 
“Come on, bro,” Heeseung shot back swiftly, not tolerating the way he changed behavior after you and Jake joined them. “You’re the one being an ass.”
“Am I?” Jay scoffed and pointed to himself, eyebrows raised skeptically. “I’m not the one fucking my best friend’s sister.”
The tension lingered in the air thickly, the silence immediate and edging the unbearable. You tried to ignore the people around you starting to take notice of the unfolding conversation between your brother and your friends. After all, the tension seemed to be rising and they were growing curious with the subject – your relationship.
Sunghoon was the first to notice the situation and your discomfort, especially as you quietly – and unconsciously – scooched to slightly hide behind Jake as a way to shield yourself from whatever could be thrown at you. At the same time, a spark of anger stirred in the depths of your soul, the same one you struggled to shove back down in order to protect your loved one’s from your possible explosion.
“Let’s not have this conversation here,” Sunghoon muttered and headed to finally make the check-in, the rest of you following him, each carrying their respectives luggages – Jake and you sharing just one that he insisted on holding, but you barely had time to proper acknowledged how hot he looked as he did so. 
The path to the rooms was silent, the tension thickening as all of you stepped into the elevator, avoiding eye contact with one another. Jake noticed your mad grimace – pursed lips, mildly furrowed brows – and positioned himself in front of you, facing you in order to shield any lingering stares Jay might dare to throw your way and to distract you with his puppy eyes that showered you with genuine affection. He gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch soft and tender, grounding you a little, even stealing you a small smile.
After going through a lot during your life with your parents, you had developed an explosive, even destructive, behavior that you struggled to restrain sometimes. It had become second nature to quietly bottle up every single detail of a stressful situation, letting it all pile up until the dam finally burst, and you ended up hurting the people you cared for.
You were terrified of losing it with Jay and consequently splattering on Jake and destabilizing the amazing, reliable relationship you just got in. That fear was precisely why you had been trying to act more reserved, more withdrawn. But Jay wasn’t making it easy for you – not even a little.
Not when he rolled his eyes in the childish way possible as he realized you and Jake were exchanging affection. Not when he was acting like an angry teenager that would prefer to ignore the problem instead of facing it. 
And that was why after leaving the elevator and before you could stop yourself, you let go of Jake’s hand, seizing the moment now that you were somewhere more private. It was still just the hotel corridor, but at least it wasn’t out in public. You turned to Jay and blurted it out.
“Why the fuck are you so mad for?” 
It was clear that Jay was taken aback by your sudden outburst, but you couldn’t care less. The tension in the air was thick as everyone froze in their tracks. Heeseung and Sunghoon exchanged confused glances, unsure of what to do next. Jay’s expression shifted from surprise to something darker as his eyes narrowed at you.
“Y/N, babe, wait–” Jake’s voice was soft, trying to calm you down, but the storm inside you was already raging. He moved to step closer, his hand hovering over your arm, but you pulled away, brushing him off.
“No,” you cut him off as sweetly as possible, raising a hand to stop him. You turned back to face your brother, your eyes flashing with a mix of anger and frustration. “So far, you’ve said whatever came to your mind, now it’s my turn.” 
Your voice dropped to a dangerous low, thick with underlying fury, no one daring to say a word.
“I really don’t get why you’re so mad about me being happy. You always talked about how much you wanted me to find the happiness I deserve, but now that I have it, you act like a damn child!”
Jay’s features sharpened as he clenched his jaw, eyes piercing through you. However, he kept his tone calm, he didn’t raise his voice, never. Not at you.
“Jake is not the happiness you deserve.”
“Woah, hold on…” Jake tilted his head, visibly stunned by Jay’s attack. He looked between you and Jay, trying to process the sudden shift in the conversation. His brows furrowed in confusion, a slight frown tugging at his lips. “Why are you saying this?”
You tried to ignore Jake for a while, really tried. But it was extremely difficult as you took notice of his hurted tone, which triggered even harder your ongoing feelings.
“How the hell do you know that? How can you even say that if you’re not the one in a relationship with him?” Your voice was louder now, sharp, and you felt the heat rise in your chest. Your eyes burned, threatening to spill over with tears, but you refused to let them fall. Not yet.
Jay hesitated for a second, his eyes shifting as if measuring his words carefully, but the frustration in his eyes was evident. He took a deep breath before continuing, his voice quieter now but no less intense.
“I know Jake. I’ve known him long enough to know he could just… leave you.” The words were like a knife, and you flinched.
“I would never–” Jake immediately protested, stepping forward once again, but Jay ignored him, continuing.
“And I don’t want to see my sister get her heart broken by my best friend,” Jay’s voice cracked slightly at the last part, as if he himself didn’t want to believe the possibility, but the fear still lingered in his words.
“Jay–” You started just for him to cut you off, the urgency in his voice building.
“Did you ever even think about my feelings in all of this before it happened?” His eyes were wide now, almost pleading. “No, you didn’t. And now you’re dragging me into something I never asked for.”
“No–” you shot back, voice rising, but before you could say more, Jay’s words came thickly again.
“Did you ever stop to think about what I’d have to deal with the outcome of this shit? To lose my best friend and see my sister broken because of some stupid choice.”
His hands were clenched at his sides, his jaw tense. The more he spoke, the more his control slipped, and you could see the anger building in him, mixed with a deep sense of hurt.
You took a deep breath, like a gasp, holding it in for a moment, before speaking slowly, your voice softening just a little. You were finally walking beside Jay’s line of thought. So that was the reason?
“And why would that be the only possible outcome? Why do you doubt Jake so much?” You paused, blinking back the sting behind your eyes. “He’s sweet. Always so, so sweet and gentle. He cares for me. He loves me, and I love him too.”
As you spoke about Jake, the walls around you lowered just enough to let the raw honesty out. You felt his presence close at your back, his hands resting on your waist lovingly, managing to somewhat anchor you – your heart fluttered, your nerves soothing ever so slightly.
For a split second, you saw Jay’s expression falter. He wasn’t ready for your vulnerability nor your genuine feelings to come out. You could see it in his eyes – the battle between his protectiveness and the fleeting need to understand your and your point of view.
“I did think about you when I accepted Jake’s dating proposal,” you continued, voice growing quieter, but firm. “And I was scared you’d react exactly like this.”
Jay’s mouth opened as if he was going to argue, but the words died on his tongue. For the first time, you saw him hesitate, truly unsure of what to say next. 
His eyes flickered towards Jake, who held an expectant, yet determined expression. He knew Jake wasn’t going to give up so easily, and it was impossible not to see you actually liked, loved each other. WJake positioned himself behind you, close, protective, and somehow loosed Jay’s demeanor, the weight on his shoulders dropping, maybe for realizing his best friend could give you the protection and the love you deserved – the one he was in charge of until now. 
Jay struggled to gulp down his stubbornness; it was his most characteristic feature. However, on the other side of the argument was you, the little sister – now a woman – he cared for and would move mountains for if necessary. 
Would Jake be able to do the same?
“I’m sorry.” He muttered, quiet, eyes lowering to the floor. “I’m so sorry,” he sighed, feeling his cheeks burning in embarrassment. 
You couldn’t hold back your surprised face, not when you expected the conversation to unfold in many possibilities where you would gladly, relentlessly counter each and every argument until you overtired him with your own stubbornness. 
“I– I was stupid. I only thought about myself, and… I mean, you seemed so happy before I found out about you two. I guess that was… because of you, Jake.”
The tears you had been holding back finally spilled over, trailing down your cheeks as you stepped closer to your brother, wrapping your arms around him in a warm, comforting hug. He didn’t hesitate to return it, pulling you firmly against his chest.
“I really care about you, kiddo,” he murmured softly into your hair, his voice tinged with both regret and affection.
You let out a small, breathy laugh, sniffing as you tried to compose yourself. “I know,” you replied, pulling back slightly to look at him. “And I’m glad you do. But now…”
Turning your head, you glanced at Jake over your shoulder – a genuine smile curved his plump lips, radiating relief and happiness. His eyes shone with pure joy, watching the two people he cherished most finally reconcile. For the first time in a while, he looked truly content and not laced with condren.
“I have him caring about me too.”
Jake took the moment to approach you both, intertwining his fingers with yours as you stepped away from your brother. He brought your hand to kiss the back of it sweetly before voicing out. 
“I’ll make her really happy.”
“You better do,” Jay nodded, a small chuckle escaping him. “Just don't… screw this over, Jake. I'm serious,” the subtle change in his tone got you rolling your eyes playfully. 
“I won't,” Jake promptly shot back.
“If you ever break her heart, I'll hunt you down to hell to kill you,” Jay added within a warning voice and Sunghoon, who had been silently observing the exchange, burst out laughing.
“I second that, by the way,” Heeseung chimed in with a smirk and shrugged. 
“No need to worry. If I ever break her heart, I'll kill mys–”
“Shut up.” You cut him off, wrapping your arms around his waist and planting a soft kiss on his cheek, your smile not faltering a bit as the rush of euphoria started to run in your veins.
Jay groaned, shooting the two of you a disgusted look before rubbing his temples as if trying to massage away the stress. It was clear he was struggling to get along with the bitter realization: his little sister, the one he had always felt an overwhelming need to protect, was now sharing intimate affection with his best friend – the very same best friend he knew far too much about, including his past escapades with commitment and… other things.
“And for the love of God,” Jay added with an exasperated sigh. “Do not… Do anything under my roof.”
“Yes, sir,” Jake quipped with a grin, earning another groan from Jay.
You couldn’t hold back your laughter, contentment filling your heart in the most endearing way. Things have been settled in the best way possible.
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"Now that we have a room to ourselves…" Jake murmured with a mischievous smirk, wrapping his arms around you from behind, pulling you closer. His lips brushed against the back of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. "And you’ve aced your physics exam…" His breath was warm against your skin, teasing the back of your ear. “And everything is set fine again…”
"And my brother is not overreacting just because I’m sucking your dick…" You couldn’t help but say it out loud within a smirk, relieved.
Jake’s eyes widened in shock, then he gasped, his hands tightening around you to pull you even closer. He laughed.
"That’s... one way of saying it, yeah." He squinted playfully, a smirk still tugging at his lips, the same lips that now pressed soft kisses on your sensitive skin, making you squirm a bit within an unfading smile dancing on your lips. You were really happy. "I’ll take it."
The following atmosphere was full of warmth and ease and for a moment you just stayed there, in the quiet calm of Jake’s arms, enjoying the simple reality of being together, just a quiet love that felt endless.
It took just a second for you to feel something poking you from behind. You hummed.
“Now I understand why you were so excited to get to our room, baby,” you purred, leaning back onto his chest and swinging your hips a little, just to friction Jake’s growing boner. His answer was immediate; a soft moan traveling its way to your ear.
“What?” He feigned innocence, pulling you closer and helping you to move your ass straight on his hardening, his chin resting on your shoulder.
“Quit the act, pretty boy,” you scoffed playfully as you tilted your head back to meet his gaze, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. “You're not fooling anyone.”
You met Jake with hooded eyes that locked with your lips for a while before going back up to glaze your orbs, his tempting tongue wetting those beautiful lips you loved to kiss and feel on your skin before he turned you to fully face him, his hands on your hips firm, steady as he pushed you slightly behind until you felt the back of your knees meeting the soft end of the bed. 
In any moment you broke eye contact, nor words were being said while the atmosphere shifted under the soothing realization you could be completely free – with your noises, with your needs, with your relationship. 
You smiled, pulling Jake by his shirt so he could fall on the mattress with you; his lips searched for yours immediately, crashing together into a delightful dance of tongues and mouths, starving each other with a longing of years. You would never get enough of your boyfriend and it felt so good to know the feeling was mutual.
His hands wandered to where you craved his touch most; Jake had become an expert at reading your body, knowing exactly what made you shiver with delight, what brought you to that edge of the pleasant bliss you loved navigating together. But there was a specific subject unspokenly lingering in the air that made him try to move back and bring it to words. 
“You promised me something,” Jake mumbled against your mouth, but you didn’t give much care as you moved further up on the bed, your hands clutching on his neck to pull him with you, lips never parting. “Babe, your pussy–”
You smirked and teasingly shut him up with another torrid kiss, sucking and biting his bottom lip, eliciting a groan that made your cunt pulse and clench around nothing. The grip on your hips tightened and Jake finally parted the kiss, panting a little, his eyes gleaming with lust.
“Babe, you promised,” Jake protested with a whining voice and you couldn’t hold back your laughter, your eyes loaded with love, affection and burning desire drinking from his already messy features.
Jake’s hair was disheveled, a courtesy of your hands that would always tangle it, tugging and playing not only due to its silkiness, but mostly because Jake would moan beautifully into your mouth whenever you pulled a bit stronger, sending jolts of ecstasy through you. 
He had a sweet voice, and his noises sounded even sweeter; as crazy as it sounds, sometimes you wished to sip Jake until he was empty.  
“You’re so cute when you’re asking for my pussy, baby. How do you manage to do that?”
Jake leaned into the touch of your hand cupping his face gently, caressing his reddened and parted lips. His cheeks had a faint flush, half-opened eyes showering you with expectation, dilated pupils pleading, flickering slowly through your face.
“Please, I really need it,” Jake sounded urgent, his breath hitching as he pressed you on the bed with his body weight.
He was quick to dodge your attempt to kiss him again, taunting the wicked game you were building. His tongue traced the curve of your neck, and his lips followed with deliberate, tantalizing kisses – a striking contrast to his current raw desperate state. “Please…” he murmured, the plea thick with longing.
He was trying to nudge you out of your deviousness using your weakness, however, he wasn’t faking at all. Jake was genuinely desperate. “Oh? So it’s a need now? Not just a want?” You teased, your voice dripping with mischief as your eyes fluttered closed.
A sigh followed by a moan escaped you, your body instinctively arching forward as a wave of contentment rippled through your core. Yet Jake kept you firmly in place, pressing you into the mattress with precision, his grip restraining your movements just enough to leave you yearning for more.
“I need and I want, please…” He whispered against your earlobe before nibbling it; you felt his hand sneaking into your shirt nearly at the same time, his fingertips softly brushing your side, making you contract your stomach and try to squirm, but again, Jake was holding you strongly against the bed. “Mhm? Please?” He begged once more within a small, weak breath.
Being so close to your boyfriend always made you thrilled and also loosened. He presented you with the possibility of being yourself freely, a safe haven you didn’t know you needed. The trust you had with Jake was beyond imagination, it was with your entire being among every possible nuance of the wording; there was something about how he managed to always spark an interest of an ongoing desire that fueled your will to keep him near, physically and emotionally.
So when he offered you the prettiest hooded eyes, glistening with the plea he showed through every pore of his, you couldn’t really control the thrum of your heartbeat echoing louder and louder in your eardrums, nor your breath catching in your throat as you felt yourself swoon under Jake’s intense and eager gaze, the need of something he never actually had a taste burning in those pretty two brown orbs. 
Every inch of your skin tingled in anticipation, after all you admittedly – not out loud – longed to feel Jake’s head buried between your legs as much as him. Just with how he managed to kiss you, mouth and tongue working precisely, skilfully on yours had your toes curling, yearning to feel all of that on your cunt. 
“Don’t go quiet on me,” Jake murmured with a pout, one that vanished in seconds as the corner of his lips curled into a smirk. “Not when I wanna hear you screaming my name,” he quietly softened the weight of his body onto yours, giving you the room to move. Your legs instinctively opened. Jake noticed. “Just give me the word, baby.”
Your eyes fluttered close when you felt Jake lowering his kisses to your clavicle and so on, a moan slipping out of your mouth when he twirled his tongue on your hardened still covered nipple, sucking and motioning something you were sure he would be doing in your clit in a few. You just needed to… Allow it. 
“Give me the word and I’ll make you feel so good…” He whispered. Once more, you felt yourself pulsing, your panties with a pool of arousal at that point. “Mhm? Please? You deserve to feel good, baby.”
He glanced up at you, giving you more of what you would experience after you said yes; the eyes looking up, the mouth deliberately and masterfully doing its job of pleasuring you, the hands holding you still.
Your whole body ignited with fervent flames, bursting with desire and an anxious longing to feel everything Jake had silently promised you until that moment. Driven by the maddening need to have him, you finally spoke, with a voice you couldn’t quite properly find as you lost yourself in your imagination.
“Yes, Jake. You can eat me out.”
Jake let out a small groan of contentment, his smile wide and radiant as he positioned himself in between your parted legs and began to remove your jeans with your help. 
“That’s how I like it,” he murmured, biting his lip to hold back the surge of excitement and impatience building inside him. But the hunger to taste your pussy of you had been building for far too long to slow down now. “Good girl.”
There was no doubt Jake would make you feel good, nevertheless you found yourself unable to untense completely under the hot touches he was leaving in your skin as he undressed your bottoms; you felt awkward, especially because it was the official first time Jake was seeing you in such a position. He had fingered you and fucked you countless times, but it was the first time his face got that close to your cunt and you started to worry. To disappoint him after you had so carefully nurtured his hopes with that fleeting promise seemed unbearable.
You swallowed the lump in your throat, your hands grabbing the sheets underneath you as you breathed heavy. Jake noticed your change of demeanor right away and soothed your skin kindly with his palms.  
“Relax, my love. Why are you so tense, mhm?” The question was followed by a tender kiss on your knee and a gentle caress on your other leg. “Talk to me.”
“I don’t know, honestly,” you chuckled nervously, avoiding your boyfriend’s eyes that were trying to read your anxious expression. You were being serious about your lack of knowledge of what exactly triggered your sudden reaction. “I’m afraid of disappointing you, I guess. Does that make sense?”
“No,” Jake was quick to shoot back, a sigh of admiration slipping from his plush lips for finally seeing your cunt revealed before his hungry eyes. Beautiful, he could feel his mouth watering. “You can’t disappoint me, sweet girl.”
“What if I cum too fast?” You asked without giving time to Jake to answer, and he skeptically quirked a brow at you. Did he hear it right? “What if I taste bad? What if you don’t like the feel of it? Or the look of it? What if my smell isn’t that good? What if–” 
You fell silent as you felt Jake’s warm muscle licking your folds, the heat of his touch sending shivers through your heated body, legs trying to close instinctively and your eyes growing wide as you realized he just… Went for it. And he was good.
Just after the long lick, Jake sucked your clit and groaned, as if the pleasure was his, not only yours. He didn’t part the connection, though, continuing to play with your clit and your pussy in random patterns using his tongue and lips, as if he was studying which one you enjoyed the most by the way your moans sounded. 
“J–Jak–Mhm…” A soft murmur mingled with a whimper interrupted whatever you were about to say – and you couldn’t even remember as you drifted your gaze down to catch the sight of Jake’s furrowed brows, deep in concentration and desire as he lost himself in you. 
You brushed away the hair sticking on his lightly sweaty forehead, watching how delighted he seemed to be eating you out; you heard the lewd sounds of slurping and soft smacks imitating a kiss and you deduced he was simply making out with your pussy.
As regular as it was, your fingers tangled into his brown locks, this time urging him closer, pulling him down to you as the longing for more consumed your chest. 
Jake was drunk – and loving each second. Mind blurry, only your pussy and the sweet scent and taste of it occupying the haze inside his brain as he got motivated by the pretty noises you allowed to escape your lips.
He dived into you with fervor, with love. God, he dreamed for too long to waste time with foreplays or whatever, especially when you were that wet already. He could die in between your legs and he would thank you for that. 
The way your breath hitched when he went a bit further and tested to poke your pulsing hole with the tip of his tongue got his eyes glancing up to catch your contorted expression, mouth agape, head throwing back into the pillow. He moaned when you rolled your hips forward, rubbing your pussy on his face just how he wanted to. 
“You’re so fucking good,” you managed to breathe out, your voice shaking between delicate moans.
Jake’s tongue lapped over and over your now dripping pussy, drinking from your juice as if it was his favorite. After cautious inspection, he understood what made you clench shamelessly and was now openly making out with your clit, even so often tongue fucking you within an impressive skill; he also positioned both your legs on his shoulder as way to ease his and your comfort.
The way your body squirmed under his firm grip on your thighs was a feeling Jake wished never to forget, especially how you unconsciously tried to press your legs together, as if it could shield you from the intensity of his touch, though you knew deep down it was futile. 
Jake was addicted to every aspect about you. If he allowed himself a moment of reflection, he might feel a flicker of embarrassment over just how intensely you got him wrapped around your finger.
Your smiles, paired with your playful banter, sent a whirlwind of emotions through his chest, a constant reminder of how effortlessly you matched his provocations with your own sharp wit. Your determination, laced with a stubborn edge, stirred a deep sense of pride within him, filling his heart with admiration for your strength. And your body… it was a masterpiece in his eyes. Every curve, every line felt tailor-made for his hands, his touch, his need to hold you close and never let go.
And now you had permitted him to taste the part he cherished the most in terms of sex. 
Jake didn’t care about how cringe, loser-like or shameful could sound to others, but eating girls out was everything he needed to feel fulfilled when in bed, and now, if the said girl was you, his perfect girlfriend…
“I love you so much,” you heard Jake mumble against your cunt, the slurred words vibrating against your clit brought you back from the lustful fog your mind drew into only to send you back again, a journey you would gladly revisit again whenever possible.
The knot on your lower stomach tightening had your toes curling as you tugged Jake’s hair harder, eliciting a soft moan out of his mouth that got lost in between your wet arousal.
“Mhm, F–Fuck Jake– I’m–”
“Close?” He murmured, though he didn’t expect you to answer. 
Jake was way lost into his own pleasure of satisfying you to think of anything other than your release coating his tongue, and he started to shamelessly, yet slowly rut his hip against the bed as your moans increased, your legs around his shoulder pressing tighter.
“I wan’ you to come all over my face and mouth, doll.” 
The blend of his words and how he started to shake his head to rub the tip of his nose on your clit while lapping your clenching hole got you screaming his name, the waves of shock running through your body within trembles as you had your orgasm. Whimpers and cries would be everything filling the room if it wasn't from Jake slurping noises getting constant with him swallowing every single drop of your climax, driving you through your high.
His big hands held you steady as he finished the job of cleaning you with his tongue, your sensitive bundle of nerves getting brief brushes that got you squirming. Jake then placed a sweet kiss on your clit, diverging from the intensity of the touches seconds ago before he pulled away, leaving you breathless and shaky, but utterly satisfied, with a dumb smile gracing your lips.
Your hooded eyes blinked slowly, tiredly as you panted for air, your whole body relaxed as if you were on the clouds. However, you captured the view of Jake undressing himself even with your slightly blurred vision; his chin and his nose were glistening with his spit and your cum, and when you finally noticed the hardened bulge hidden behind his underwear, you gulped, feeling your body heating up again before that pretty, lascivious sight.
Opposite to what you thought, Jake propped himself near to you, out of the bed still, with a cute smile, endearingly watching you regaining your senses. You didn’t catch the flicker of mischief the puppy eyes showed briefly, though.
“Babe, how about we take a shower, mhm?,” he asked, voice barely above a whisper. With a gentle stroke on your hair, he added. “I think we have a bathtub here, we can take a bath.”
A smirk danced on the corner of your lips as you sat with Jake’s help, your fingers tracing the shape of his covered dick. “But what about you, pretty boy?” 
You watched Jake biting his lip, a habit you loved that made both your heart flutter and your cunt pulse. You were getting worked up again. 
“We can take care of it there, can’t we?” 
His gaze darkened out of the softness he was offering you when you nodded, pulling you to stand up and removing your shirt. Jake’s eyes lingered a bit longer on your now exposed breasts and you felt shy under the intensity of it, so you just leaned forward to cut the staring with a kiss. 
The same kiss that had Jake holding you by the waist and you finding support on his shoulders. The same kiss that Jake used to quietly guide you towards the bathroom. The same kiss that left you breathless as you parted away with a content smile followed by a chuckle because Jake’s fingertips brushed your ribs in a teasing way. 
“Oh, we have to fill it up, though…” You pouted when noticing that the said bathtub was completely empty. 
Once again, you failed to realize Jake had a secret plan by the way his eyes twinkled with wicked intentions, especially because he positioned himself behind you.
“Babe…” His voice dropped an octave when he murmured against your ear, the feeling of his hot body pressing on your back together with his covered cock frictioning against your bare ass got your pussy starting to be wet again. 
“Mhm?” You answered softly, hands covering Jake’s that were now on your boobs, softly massaging 
“Do you trust me?”
The question was simple, the answer even simpler. And yet you found yourself hesitating, a flicker of uncertainty threatening to spark – a fleeting fear of what might unfold. But then, you remembered: it was Jake. Your Jake. The man who had dived headfirst into all your wildest adventures without hesitation, who would never dream of hurting you.
The man of your life.
“Of course I do.”
“Good,” he chuckled softly, a hint of mischief lighting his gaze as he pulled away from the warmth of your embrace, only to strip off the last piece of clothing separating him from you.
You turned on your heels, confused, aiming to ask what the hell was going on, but your eyes dropped to Jake’s big, stiff cock, the tip reddened, glistening with leaking precum in a way that got your knees weak.
“You’re hard,” you breathed out, pointing out the obvious and feeling your body working on automatic as you approached with your hands already moving further closer his length. “And hot. I’d suck you off–”
Jake shushed you with a quick peck, his lips being graced by a small smile. “Shh, come with me.”
He approached the bathtub, opening the water register to fill just the bottom of it before he settled on one of the ends and tapped his lap, urging you to join him.
“Oh?” You tilted your head to the side, a grin growing on your lips as you made your way to your boyfriend, doing as he instructed you so. “What are we doing?”
Your curiosity was driving you wild, yet there was something thrilling in the way Jake sometimes took control of the situation, keeping details scarce and letting slowly you discover things as they got revealed.
Sharing moments with Jake was a treasured part of your life, and you longed to create more special and unique memories with the one you had vowed to love for a lifetime – through every shade and possibilities.
So when he placed you on his lap, facing forward, something similar to as if you were about to ride him, you did nothing to control the excitement fluttering in your chest. Before you said any other word, Jake’s cheeks flustered with a cute tone of crimson and you furrowed your brows, a confused-amused chuckle escaping your lips because you literally had no idea of what was going on.
“Please, ignore what I’m gonna say, because it’s a fucking turn off…” Jake said with a small voice, his whole face contorted into an embarrassed expression as he tightened the grip on your hips.
“Okay…” As unsure as you sounded, still you held your expectations high. The worst that would happen was Jake making you laugh with his goofy ideas and jokes.
“You know that we calculate the velocity of some things in physics, right? Like fluids, and stuff…” You nodded along, not really getting the line of thought, but still allowing him to finish. “I was wondering… Mhm–” He cleared his throat, eyes avoiding yours precisely. You were already giggling, hands caressing his nape.
“Yeah?”
“Do you want to calculate the velocity of your squirt on my dick?”
Though Jake immediately reacted by breaking into a shy laughter and hiding himself cringing on the crook of your neck, you, on the other hand, had to stifle the shocking scoff that caught in your throat upon hearing his filthy, straightforward request, your expression shifting from teasing humored to stunned disbelief. And you felt your pussy clenching right after, because Jake had that fucking effect on you, no matter what. 
“I won’t lie… I was so ready to laugh,” you admitted, voice soft and edged with a dryness that had you swallowing hard, trying to hold the thrill bubbling low in your core.
Your hips rolled ever so slightly, a teasing motion that grazed against Jake’s aching hardness, drawing a guttural groan from him. Your hand held the back of his head, caressing his hair, while the other wandered over his biceps. 
“But, damn, I’m so turned on right now.”
“Thank God you’re perfect.” 
It was the last thing Jake said in between a relieved giggle before kissing your neck and skillfuly maneuvering your body with your help so his aching cock could finally meet the warm embrace of your walls. 
A shaky shared moan echoed through the hollow bathroom walls, your head falling back, your lips parted with a small delighted smile adorning it. Jake bit your neck to muffle his following groan when he finally got himself completely inside of you; he had been hard for so long, ever since he started to think about getting lost in the taste of your pussy, craving some sexual release that only your cunt embracing his length would give him.
“So fucking tight–” He whispered against the slightly bruised skin of your neck, voice cracking at the end when you rolled your hips in a silent plea.
Without a moment of hesitation, Jake lifted you effortlessly by your hips, only to pull you back down with a steady force, guiding you with a rhythmic precision. Your arms instinctively draped over his shoulders, providing the support you needed to move with him, as you both found your pace.
“Kiss–” you breathed, a soft whimper escaping your lips, just as Jake hit a spot that made you tremble. “Kiss me, Jakey–” 
As a natural command, Jake drifted his lips towards yours, his tongue licked your bottom one before sucking it and diving into a passionate, messy kiss, the movements never halting as you drowned into the pool of arousal and lust your boyfriend provided; you could feel Jake everywhere and it was amazing.
He pounded into your g-spot with ease, eliciting the loudest noises from the back of your throat, shamelessly. His hands roamed your ass to squeeze it while guiding your body up and down, the mild slapping sounds ringing in his ears like a beautiful melody. 
“You make me go insane,” Jake whispered, his eyes fluttering close as the euphoria of feeling you that close drifted his senses into an overwhelming experience. 
He felt a faint grin appearing on your lips before you shot back. “And– And do you like it?”
Jake chuckled lightly, a lingering smile following his answer. “I love it.”
Since you had one orgasm already, you felt your next one coming faster than expected, so when you started to involuntarily clench more, together with your whimpers of Jake’s name and curses amplified louder, Jake took a close notice to start rubbing circles on your clit with one hand, wishing you could keep on holding the position practically by yourself for a bit longer – he wanted you to do a bit more than cumming, after all.
“Close… ‘M close–” You whined, body jolting forward and your head falling back once more, the grip from your arms on Jake’s shoulders tightening as you partially hugged him. 
Jake drank in the sight of you rolling your eyes close and your hips uncontrollably grinding and bouncing and doing whatever would make you achieve your climax – so fucking beautiful. It made his dick throb in despair for the same release, but he wanted so bad to feel you squirting on him. So he gathered strength from the depths of his self-control not to cum, even after you creamed his shaft with your warm liquid. Even after your squeeze grew unbearably good.
“Fuck, babe…” 
“Jak– Jake– Sensitive,” you whispered when Jake didn’t stop drawing circles on your clit, momentarily forgetting he had a different plan as you struggled to squirm away. “Jake, mhm–” 
Jake shook his head as if telling you no, maintaining his dick buried deep into you as he focused solely on your swollen bundle of nerves. If you paid enough attention you would feel his mischievous smile creeping on the corner of his lips grazing on your cheek.
With your eyes fluttering open to try and look at your boyfriend, the overestimation teetered the edge of madness; overwhelming at it most, you whined pleas of despair for Jake to stop, though you didn’t actually want him to.
Jake groaned when your nails scratched his back, your whole body trembling, shaking to escape the painful, yet delicious feeling of Jake driving you faster towards an inexperienced field for you.
You never actually squirted, but as soon as you reminded yourself that it was Jake's desire, you wished to give it to him as much as you wanted for yourself. Pleasuring Jake would always pleasure you as well.
“It’s gonna feel so good, doll,” Jake cooed, holding you closer, keeping you steady. “Hang in there, just a little, yeah?”
“Can’t–” You shook your head, feeling a weird feeling creeping inside you. “Can’t Jakey–”
“Yes you can,” his voice was low, soft even, though breathless. Jake was trying his best to navigate you precisely to where he wanted you to arrive. “You’re my good girl, aren’t you?”
“Mhm– Fuck, Jake–” You screamed his name. “Yes, ’m yours. All yours.”
The excruciating pressure on your core felt like a glazing fire, scorching every inch of you as if it were igniting something deep inside, something new, strange. It was a fiery ache, relentless and consuming, making it almost impossible to think of anything but the heat that pulsed through you, demanding attention. The sensation grew more intense with every movement, every touch, every deliberate open-mouth kiss Jake deposited on your neck. You couldn’t decide if you wanted it to stop or if you wanted it to go on forever. 
“It’s burning– Jake–” You sounded urgent, not exactly knowing why.  
“Let it go, doll,” Jake murmured on your earlobe. “For me, yeah?”
And so you did, moaning, exclaiming Jake’s name like a mantra, like he was the only thing carved into your soul, the only thing crossing your mind. You felt like Jake entered you completely as a flush of fluids squirted from your pulsing, abused cunt.
At the same time, Jake had his own body trembling, his abs tensing as he came undone; not even a movement, not even a roll of hips, just the indescribable feeling of your juices flowing freely down his length and your walls clenching got him filling you to the brim with his release.
A wave of soft moans slipped from your lips, each one rising like a gentle hiss. Your mind was blank. Your body, numb. You felt everything and nothing at the same time. At some point you questioned if you had died – and if you did, it would be an amazing death.
But then Jake’s honeyed, broken voice brought you back from your trance. 
“I’m still coming,” and he so fucking was; it was a different feeling from the other times, if you forced yourself to think coherently, you would realize Jake had never come that hard. 
“I’m weird,” you mumbled, body softening against your boyfriend’s strong grip. He held you steady in his arms, supporting you with care. “Can’t feel my legs… Or my body…”
You heard Jake laughing a little in between pants, his noises sounding distant while your eyes began to slowly close, your body relaxing into that blur of tiredness that took over in seconds.
“I’ve got you, my love.” Jake kissed your cheek. “You did amazing. Thank you.”
With tender touches and gentle caresses, Jake cleaned both of you, making sure you were comfortable and not getting any type of extra stimulation as he did so. Through soft murmurs of reassuring words, he praised your work and thanked you for allowing him to pleasure you. As he always did.
Jake loved you with genuine affection. It never felt forced, nor did it ever seem like something he had to prove. It was simply there, effortless, constant, and profound. His love lived in the smallest gestures and the proudest compliments he would gush about, and you couldn’t feel more grateful for living in a relationship where the caring was mutual, because you cherished Jake just as much. 
You were finally at peace, in a comfortable relationship with Jake, knowing there would be no more lies between you and your brother. It was soothing to be able to sink into the warm embrace of your boyfriend without worrying about interruptions, or how quickly you would have to throw on clothes and present yourself as presentable as possible, hiding the remnants of your burning passion behind fake smiles and lame excuses.
Jake had a scent of home, of love. And it felt so, so good to love him without restraint, to kiss him without fear, to feel a sense of completeness as he fit perfectly in a special place in your chest.
“Y’know, I was just thinking…”
Jake’s voice filled the quietness of the room. He had put you in a comfortable set of clothes and laid on the bed with you, your body curled cozily against his chest, his soft heartbeats soothing your senses.
“We complement each other pretty well.”
“How so?”
Your ask came as silent as his. Jake caught himself thinking deeply, snuggling you closer as he did so. 
“Mhm… I lean towards physics and you’re into art,” you nodded along, casually drawing random shapes on his bare torso. 
The softness of his tone vibrated through his chest like a sweet lullaby. You sighed. 
“I feel like you’re more rational than I am… You’re always so, so determined and adorably stubborn until you get what you want… And I’m kinda lazy, not gonna lie.” 
“That’s true,” you smirked, raising your head briefly just to shoot a teasing glance. Jake chuckled, rolling his eyes before pressing a kiss to the crown of your head as you nestled back against him.
“We always find a way to please each other, in every sense,” he continued and you couldn’t help the warm flushing from your neck to your face, shyly shifting to hide yourself on his neck. Jake giggled, caressing your back. “And I always feel complete when I’m with you.”
Pulling back slightly, you searched those two mesmerizing eyes, brimming with tenderness and care. With love. Jake was a beautiful masterpiece, worthy of endless admiration you would willingly give, because you loved him just as much. 
“I agree,” you whispered, caressing his cheek. “We’re like pieces of a puzzle, fitting perfectly.”
“Exactly,” Jake breathed out, his eyes fluttering closed as tranquility washed over him after you pressed a tender kiss on his lips just to get cozy again against his torso. “We’re complementary, babe.”
BONUS SCENE
"Well, well… If it isn’t the cutest couple..." Sunghoon greeted you both with a teasing tone as you approached the table.
The weekend trip was nearing its end, and that was the last meal the five of you would share at the hotel. It was a simple yet cozy dinner, the kind that felt more meaningful because of the company. A table set with exactly five seats, ready to accommodate all of you.
Jake responded to Sunghoon’s comment with a playful smack to the back of his neck before you both took your seats; Heeseung settled on your right, Sunghoon next to Jake, and Jay directly across from you.
“The cutest and the freakiest, too. Jesus Christ.” Heeseung muttered just loud enough for you and Jake to hear. Instinctively, your eyes darted up to catch the displeased scowl on your brother’s face. “Please, never put me next to their room again.”
“The choice was either you or Jay, so…” Sunghoon shrugged like it was the most obvious thing in the world, though it didn’t stop Heeseung from glaring at him.
“And you weren’t an option?”
“Of course not. My trip, my rules. You should be grateful I even got you a solo room.”
“Oh, right, because between hearing Y/N scream Jake’s name and–”
“For God’s sake, dude,” Jake interrupted immediately, his voice sharp but laced with embarrassment.
Your cheeks burned fiercely as you sank into your chair, crawling Jake’s arm as if your life depended on it, trying desperately to avoid looking at Jay – or anyone else. But from the corner of your eye, you caught him massaging his temples with one hand, the other lifting his glass of wine to his lips as if he needed a moment away from the conversation.
“Am I wrong, though?” Heeseung arched an eyebrow and looked directly at you, who were now sipping your drink, still curled against Jake who held you by your shoulder. “I bet you were having a good time in the bathroom.”
Jake couldn’t suppress the sudden snort of laughter that escaped him when seeing you and Jay choking, each with your own drinks, together. On the other hand, Sunghoon shamelessly burst into a loud, noisy laugh, clapping his hands and throwing his head back as if it was the funniest thing he had ever witnessed.
“Oh, man, this is gold,” he managed to say, eyes flickering in between your mortified expression and Jay’s mad grimace.
You coughed into your napkin, one that Jake handed to you gently, holding back his own wanting to laugh at it too, your cheeks blazing hot. 
“Heeseung, I swear to God, if you–”
“Relax, Y/N. I won’t tell about how hard–”
“Ok. Shut up, dude,” Jake interrupted sharply again, though his voice carried a mix of amusement and shyness. He gave you a reassuring squeeze, his fingers lightly brushing against your arm, anchoring you away from their teasing.
Jay, however, wasn’t laughing. Not at all. He wiped his mouth with a napkin, his expression tense as he shot Heeseung a glare that could cut through steel.
“Some of us don’t need a visualization of whatever happened in that room. Thank you.”
Heeseung rolled his eyes, which shone with amusement, matching perfectly with his playful grin.
“Come on, Jay. It’s all in good fun,” Heeseung replied, waving off the tension with a careless flick of his hand. “We all know they’re just very passionate. Isn’t that right?”
“Oh, God.” You groaned, burying our face in your hands, feeling Jake giggling by the way his body trembled against yours. “I hate all of you. So much.”
The mortification flooded your senses, an urge to run away from their playful banter because you didn’t know where else to hide. However, the same subject being treated with jokes and laughter eased your fear of Jay turning back on his decision of supporting you and Jake.
“Even me?” Your boyfriend asked, kindly grabbing your chin to lean your head upwards to face him. He had a feigned pouty expression, one that elicited a giggle from you right away.
You shook your head. “No, baby, never you.”
And just at the moment your lips touched Jake’s into a sweet gesture, you heard your brother’s voice.
“Am I that ass of a brother to deserve this level of pain and torture?” Jay muttered, his voice dripping with exaggerated exasperation.
You and Jake giggled in between the kiss, parting ways as you bit your lip and shot a fake annoyed glance at Jay – comfort now settling your nerves, as you noticed he was trying to be as nonchalant as possible.
“Maybe?” You teased, your tone playful as you tilted your head. Jay rolled his eyes, but the small smile dancing on his lips didn’t deny he was starting to accept your relationship.
“Whatever, kiddo.”
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taglist 💖: @yvnempire, @marigold-sunflowers, @ikeuverse, @taeminsboogers, @4wkjun, @wiccangirl29, @guapgoddees, @manuosorioh, @zkg2318, @m3wkledreamy, @jakeswifeyyy, @love4hee, @missychief1404, @thlrstae, @jaems-left-toe
(the ones in bold text i couldn't tag!)
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lullabyes22-blog · 2 days ago
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"I think the cycle only ends when you find the will to walk away."
Got a lot of Q's for this in my inbox. Figured I'd just address them here.
tw: mentions of suicide, suicidal ideation
Re: the ending of S2:
Jinx did not die.
She symbolically killed her old self, and with it, her last ties to the past that imprisoned her. She understood that for her sister to move on and live her life - be happy without guilt - she'd have to renounce the bonds that held them together.
Her talk with ghostly Silco was the 'sign-off' she'd been waiting for, ever his dutiful daughter. Throughout S2, she kept hoping he'd haunt her, and in doing so, offer some impetus given her aimlessness. Maybe just straight up boss her around, and tell her how she's supposed to exist now that he's no longer there to be a (subversive if loving) guiding hand.
But it was the promise of time (as represented by Ekko) healing old wounds, and the courage to feel, as she once had - a hopeful child with a hopeful future - that allowed Jinx to commit impetus to action.
Her blimp-ship in the climactic battle is a tribute to Isha - but also to the child in Jinx's own fractured psyche: Powder. She's letting both little girls have one last hurrah before she takes care of business - and cuts off the last oaths, duties and commitments that bind her to a past whose parameters she's outgrown.
Better still, she knows she's got the capacity to outgrow them.
That was the point of Jinx's arc with Isha, and why, no matter my misgivings on Isha's character herself, I found Jinx's trajectory towards a more nurturing and fun-loving figure more life-affirming and positive than the straightforward 'Daddy's Villain Goes Postal' shtick.
It's even why there's a minigame titled Jinx Fixes Everything. It's Jinx, struggling and stumbling, as she tries to rewrite her narrative, and finds in herself the capacity to do good.
To fix things that seem irreparably broken.
And to understand why she's reached this stage, we've got to let go of our tendency to project our own stuff onto Jinx (precious meow meow, unrepentant terrorist, manic pixie crazypants, edgy hot psycho) and acknowledge the purpose she plays in Arcane's thematic structure.
Jinx's character comes off as a death-seeker, and that's no shocker. She is hounded by terrible guilt and loss. She's got blood on her hands, and ghosts on her heels, and no matter what she does, she can't seem to be rid of them. Her inner mind's fractured, her mannerisms ooze pure chaos, and she seems a creature of pure feral impulse and no mercy.
That's the Jinx we're accustomed to seeing in S1 - except that's also both the front she's most likely to put on during that timeline, and the persona that is necessary for her to inhabit to survive, as Silco's daughter and his top enforcer.
Then Silco kicks the bucket, she symbolically fulfills his dream by shooting at the Council HQ, she accepts that she must inhabit this path of shadows and loneliness (as symbolized by her starkly decorated chair in the tea party scene), she accepts the fragmented push-and-pull between past and present, and...
And now what?
Silco's given her a semblance of direction for six years, and he's gone. Vi, the sister she'd hoped would return, and whom she'd hinged so many childishly idealized hopes on, is herself traumatized, and afraid of what her sister's become.
Jinx has her shadows and her loneliness. Jinx is traumatized. Jinx is suicidal.
But Jinx is still, whatever else, alive.
And all living things need connections.
That's why we as the audience enjoy her little found family dynamic with Isha and Sevika. It's Jinx, taking the first tentative steps to reach out to people beyond Silco and Vi, and realizing, wow, she enjoys the pay-off.
And all throughout S2, we see Jinx growing more and more comfortable in this newfound space - even jealously guarding it at the expense of Zaun's liberty, and Silco's wishes, because she can't bear to lose what she's found.
And what she finds empowers her enough that, when Warwick shows up, she's actually willing to reach out to Vi, and call upon their family connection, because Jinx is learning the value of bonds, not as baling hooks of guilt, but as buoys to carry her forward.
That's the story Jinx's relationships serve to tell in S2. Each one shapes the choice she makes in the finale. Until she learns to accept the past (Vi), to lay the monsters to rest (Silco and Vander/Warwick), forgive herself (Caitlyn) trust that time heals all wounds (Ekko), and hope for happier new beginning (Isha), she'll never trust herself enough to just seize the chance.
Jinx's culminating arc is not about death, much less self-erasure. It's about resurrection, and embracing the sublime chaos of a freed mind, and a lightened spirit. That's what she craves beyond simple death, and what her baptism by fire, blood and riverwater, has been about.
Each trial grinds her down into someone else. Someone new.
Someone closer to who she is meant to be, rather than who she's expected to be.
That's why she's so glad to make the sacrifice for Vi. She's not dying as an act of self-immolation. She's giving her sister - the one who's proven she'll never give up on her - the ultimate gift, and showing Vi that she deserves to live.
She needs Vi to live, so Jinx, the persona, can finally die.
"He (Silco) didn't make Jinx. You did."
She's basically saying, "I love you, I will always be with you, but you are no longer responsible for my actions. Please move forward with your life, and grant me the choice to do the same."
It's two sisters embracing everything they've meant to each other, acknowledging the pain weighing them down on both sides, and welcoming the new so they can each slough off old paradigms and live life as a whole person - or at least take steps to remembering what wholeness feels like.
That's the reason the show's final shots linger on the Hexgate tunnels, Jinx's monkey bomb, and the aircraft.
It's the show's way of reminding us that Jinx has ascended to a different version of her identity - one removed from the past that haunted her. It's Jinx, finally striking out alone, away from the sister whose memory she clung so desperately to, and who was, in turn, horrified by her hand in making Powder a monster (perceived guilt or real, fandom may debate ad nauseum) due to past mistakes and abandonment.
The ending of Arcane isn't tragic. It's deeply hopeful, and serves as a reminder that no matter how damaged you think you are, and no matter how monstrous the world finds you, there are still ways to come back to yourself - or to walk the path toward a new you.
Jinx is symbolized by crows. Jinx is shown with firelights emerging from her mouth. Jinx is depicted holding a torch like Janna ushering in the winds of change.
Thematically, Jinx is change.
And the best way she can embody that change is to write her story, and make it her own.
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keferon · 3 days ago
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Eh okay so. My brain is absolutely cooked so you will probably just have to ignore the linguistic fuckups
Jazz and Prowl learning to communicate because language barrier is a thing >:D
Previous part
Jazz sometimes thinks that somewhere along his career path he lost the bar separating normal from...well...everything else.
After all he's seen, heard about, and done, he's not sure exactly how to measure what's weird and what's normal. He has..the general idea.
His own. And it's so convoluted and fucked up that he'd rather jump into a volcano than try to explain it to anyone else. Jazz thinks the little colorful aliens around him are weird as hell. He thinks they sound weird, he thinks they look weird, and he thinks he must be going crazy.
And then this big black and white robot catches his eye and Jazz's first thought is not "what the fuck??"
His first thought is
"Thank God! Someone's normal!"
Whoever this guy is, he sounds like he knows what he's doing. And most importantly, he looks just like Jazz. Well, not exactly. But close enough. After all, Jazz knows that his organization wasn't the only mech maker on the entire planet. Other countries were making Mechs too, and Jazz hadn't seen even half of them.
But he can recognize a giant robot when he sees one, okay?
The thought that another mech could be an alien doesn't even enter his mind.
So used to the constant presence of huge piloted robots around him, he looks at this one and clings to its appearance as something familiar and easily explainable. His brain says, we know how this works. There's a robot and inside the robot there's another person. It's the way it's always been. The sky is blue, the grass is green and the robots are human-piloted. It's that simple.
The guy takes him to the far corner of the room and says something. Jazz…doesn't understand..
The mech's face contorts in a surprisingly believable display of concentration. How...who built this robot? How could they make it frown?
He hears something else being said to him but again can't understand a word. Why won't this pilot get out of the mech to talk to him? Jazz doesn't have his communication frequency but surely they could at least shake hands. There must be some reason. Maybe something wrong with the air? Is it dangerous to be outside? This guy should know better, he's been here longer than Jazz, it seems.
(Damn it, whose idea was it to make a mech with a face, it's so distracting)
He rushes to activate the external speakers, because he and this guy obviously speak different languages, but it never hurts to try, right?
"So uh, I don't think you can understand English?"
Mech frowns again, trying to pick up on something familiar in a language that's apparently new to him. But finds nothing. Jazz lowers his horns sadly.
Oh well. Fuck. As if being stuck in an unknown place with unknown creatures wasn't enough, he can't even talk to anyone! How is he supposed to get out of here? Which way should he even go?
The mech waves his hand to get his attention and then pulls out a tablet and a stylus from..where ?
Jazz somehow manages to overlook the fact that the tablet is made to fit the mech's size. His head is still feels a bit…off..after that portal thingie.
"Charades it is then."
____________________
An hour and a half later, Jazz finds himself staring intensely at the screen in front of him with a surprisingly neatly drawn chart on it.
"So uh. Motion."
The other guy nods and starts drawing a walking mech. Then something that looks like a very unusual car. Then a submarine. Jazz gets a little lost looking at how skillful he is with the stylus.
Honestly, he's a good artist!
The guy points to the sketch of a walking mech and says
" Motion."
Then points to the drawing of a car driving and the columns of the chart.
"Motion-rotation" he points to the car again.
That must mean "driving" huh? Jazz nods understandingly.
Mech moves his finger to the submarine.
"Motion-Water."
Ah, it must mean swimming. Jazz nods once more, feeling like a wind-up dummy repeating the same motion a dozen times.
The mech makes a quiet humming noise and then points to the chart
"Motion. Sky."
And then gives Jazz the stylus?
Uh, what is he... Oh, he wants Jazz to figure out what it means.
"Motion" and "sky," right?
Jazz takes the stylus? Pencil? Thingie.. and very carefully draws out a crooked scribble of something only remotely resembling an airplane. The mech arches an eyebrow and looks like he wants to laugh.
Jazz shrugs awkwardly and tries to add windows to the airplane, but ends up making it look more like a severely fucked up caterpillar.
Mech snorts.
Jazz kicks him in the leg.
The airplane begs for a merciful death.
Jazz didn't really expect to get into a language class but he has to admit that whatever language he's learning now is a surprisingly easy one. It only took the other dude half an hour to show him the basic concept and from there it became a game of associations.
There were simple definitions. Like size, quantity, speed, emotion and so on.
There were signs that automatically turned the whole sentence into a question or a statement.
There were modifiers that Jazz defined in his head as positive and negative.
Positive speed - fast.
Positive size - large.
Positive direction - forward.
Positive time - future.
There were also basic words for senses, emotions and whatnot, also with modifiers.
Mouth-positive - to speak
Brain-positive - to think, but negative-brain-do-positive - to learn.
Huh.
And it's so neatly organized that Jazz wondered if this language was designed specifically to be easy to learn.
Let's see....
Mouth - positive, effort - negative.
"Easy to speak."
The guy nods contentedly and starts talking back, while pointing to the appropriate columns of the chart to make it easier for Jazz to understand.
"Creation-positive. Purpose. Person-negative-knowledge. memory-positive-effort-negative."
Jazz frowns, concentrating on his finger.
Oh. Created. For those who don't know it. Easy to learn.
He was right. The whole thing is waaaay too awkward to write poetry but learning it is a delight.
Jazz leans over the chart.
All right, well, let's see.
“Name. You. Question?”
The other guy smiles and pokes at the chart
"Me.Motion-sound-negative.Negative-eyes-positive-someone."
Walk quietly. searching?… Sneaking?
Oh, it's not "to sneak" it's "to prowl"
"Prowl" nods affirmatively. Jazz smiles at him and looks at the chart again. Okay. How to say “music”?..
“word-knowledge-negative.”
He stops to make a gesture with his hands, as if playing an invisible piano while humming a tune.
Prowl nods
“Sound-positive-positive-hearing.”
Jazz chuckles
“A whole two positives eh? Okay then. Uh. You don't look like you listen to jazz....so..”
“Me. Name. Sound-positive-positive-listening.”
Prowl raises his eyebrows. (Jazz is jealous, he wishes he had eyebrows too.)
“You're a musician?"
Jazz quickly shakes his head while simultaneously muting the outside speakers to a barely audible level and turning on one of the songs on his playlist.
Prowl twitches in surprise when he hears the melody.
Jazz waits for the intro to finish playing and then points to himself
“Creation-negative..uh..Sound-positive-positive-hearing. Jazz. This...”
He pats himself lightly on the chest.
"..is me. Jazz."
Prowl straightens up slightly
“Oh, you're not a musician, you're the music.”
Jazz nods cheerfully
“Yes yes!”
“Jaaz?”
“No no. Jazz.”
“Ah. Jazz?”
“That's right.”
Prowl draws a portal on the screen.
“You teleported here. What happened?”
Jazz hangs back, trying to construct an answer in his head. Good thing Prowl seems to have infinite patience
��So, I uh. What was 'fight'? Movement-pain-positive? I fought these things...”
He takes the tablet from Prowl and draws a crooked blot with a bunch of tentacles on it. Then thinks for a bit and adds big teeth and a lot of eyes. He's not really sure how to draw those eyes properly, so he just scatters them randomly around the monster area.
Prowl doesn't seem to be that amused by Jazz's drawings anymore, in fact, he suddenly becomes very somber.
“Quintessons.”
He pokes at the monster
“Name-Quintessons. Number-question.”
How many?
Jazz scratches the back of his head
“So uh...a lot?....number-positive-positive-positive-positive-positi...you get the idea.”
To be convincing, he dramatically spreads his arms out to the sides depicting something very large.
Prowl looks alarmed.
And unconvinced.
“How did you survive?”
Jazz laughs pretentiously
“Ask them how they survived.”
Prowl makes the “you can't be serious” face. Jazz isn't quite sure what exactly is confusing him. Mechs are designed to kill Quintessons, aren't they? Judging by his movements, this pilot must be damn good at controlling his mech, and that kind of guys usually fight on the front lines.
He decides to put that thought aside for later. There are more important things right now, like...oh shit, where is he even going??
Jazz leans over the chart again
“Uh. Right. Question-we-move-up-place” Man, how to specify... “Knowledge-negative?”
Prowl, linguistic gods bless him, understands him and starts gesturing over the chart in response
Okay. Ah. I-move-up. Planet-creation-positive.
'I'm heading home' or 'my home planet'.”
Jazz instantly perks up.
“Oh that's great, I'm pretty sure I'm supposed to go there too.”
Prowl is speaking in a language he's unfamiliar with, so he's definitely from another country, but hey, who cares as long as it's on Earth, right? He just needs to get there and he'll find his own way from there.
He watches the space debris flicker by outside the window. Even the stars are unfamiliar, Jazz can't find any constellations he knows.
One of the little purple creatures says something and Prowl steps aside to chat with them. Jazz leans back and settles into a more or less stable position. Then does the same thing, but with his real, human body. Hell, his head still feels really fucking weird after that teleportation.
He opens the comm channel and just listens to the static for a couple minutes in the faint hope that the engineering department will find a way to contact him.
Nothing.
He sighs.
“1061 on the com. In case there's any way you can hear me...ah shit. You guys won't believe what happened...”
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gojoest · 2 days ago
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“I can’t believe you let that guy hold your hand”
Satoru was upset. Really upset. You could see it all over his face — jaw clenched, brows furrowed, the vein on his forehead so swollen it was threatening to pop any second now.
“You are being ridiculous”, you sigh. He’s been at it for 3 hours now and you no longer have the energy to try and beat some sense into him, he’s not listening to you anyway. “Please stop”, you ask for what probably is the hundredth time.
“Okay”, he audibly breathes under his nose, but surely doesn’t sound the least bit convincing, nor does he look like he’s given up, judging by the way he’s fervently searching up something on his phone, tapping left and right, downloading all kinds of social apps. “What’s his name?"
“You’re not going to look him up now, are you?”
He can’t be serious, you try to reason internally. He’s just being too silly right now pretending to throw another jealousy fit to show you just how much he loves you and how crazy he is about you, you try to convince yourself.
Yet, the look in his eyes refutes all of your hopes.
He has gone mad. He really is after that guy.
“Bingo. Name, please”
“I don’t remember it”, you let out an exasperated whine.
“Fine, I’ll just have Ijichi track that homewrecker down, then I’ll go deal with him personally myself”
“…”, you sigh once again. “And then what?”
“I’ll cut his hand and burn it”, he nonchalantly blurts out, his eyes focused on his phone as he types out instructions to Ijichi, along with a photo attached to the message.
3 hours ago, when things went terribly wrong
As promised, you were showing Satoru your childhood albums.
He was very eager to see how the mini you looked backed in the day. Basking in the sight of your adorable self from the photos, gushing over your chubby cheeks and cute outfits, he was asking about the story behind each shot and curiously listening to you go on and on about the old times and the little you he didn’t know about.
…that was until a certain group photo from kindergarten caught Satoru’s eyes.
“What’s this”, he pointed at it.
“It’s a group pic from kindergarten when I was four, I think? The teachers made us pair up and hold hands for the photo, and I ended up with this boy here”
Silence. Something was off.
Satoru wasn’t reacting the way he was to the other pictures. His smile was frozen on his lips but it was gone from his eyes, and he was unusually quiet too. The aura he was giving off was definitely eerie, and not the least bit loving.
“Yeah?”, Satoru spoke in a dull voice. “And you let him hold your hand?”
“What?”, you blinked twice. “I—, what?”
“You let another man touch you?”
“A man? He was four, and so was I — we were children, Satoru”, you, in complete disbelief, try to laugh it off. There was no way he could be actually upset about and jealous over something so ridiculous (he was in fact very upset and very jealous, and yes, over something so ridiculous).
“It doesn’t change the fact that this bastard touched what’s mine”, he was gritting his teeth.
“I wasn’t yours back then”, and you were pouring oil into the fire.
“Look, just because we didn’t know each other doesn’t mean you weren’t mine. You were always mine, you just didn’t know it. But that guy—”
You cut him off, “Alright”, and took the photo album from his lap, closing it shut and tucking it under your armpit. “We’re done looking at my childhood pictures”
“Why? Are there more guys holding your hand in there?”, he protested in a high-pitched voice.
“…”
“Oh my god?”, he cried out. “There are?”
Yes, there were. And if he kept looking, by the end of the day, he would turn into a mass murderer.
a/n: mind you, the rest of the pictures are all on friendly terms too, purely platonic. but better safe than sorry! AHAHAH
613 notes · View notes
6toru · 2 days ago
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𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍.
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synopsis. after many failed attempts of finding love, the end of your most recent relationship seemed to take the cake. just as you were about to believe that, maybe, romance was simply not in the works for you — fate had different plans, taking in the form of an app called heartchat.
pairing. gojo satoru x fem!reader genre. office au + s2l & smut cw. mature content (mdni), kinda fast-paced, phone sex, voice kink, public sex, rough sex, dirty talk / explicit language, pussy drunk!gojo, big dick!gojouse of alcohol, annoying ex
wc. 14.6k
author's note. inspired by the manwha 'superstitious nine'! + another one of my top fav works ! enjoy & happy reading everyone <3
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Throughout your twenty seven years of living, it was fair to say that you had little to no luck with men, although it was something that you’ve long grown accustomed to, or at least, tried to. Usually, it would’ve been easy to shrug off your misfortunes by telling yourself that you’d only be saving yourself from further disappointment, but nowadays, it’s gotten harder to ignore the vexatious turmoil steadily building up within your chest while you watch all your friends, one by one, get their happy ending and starting their families with their first love. You’d only gotten into three relationships, however none of them turned out successful – your first one being in your last year of highschool and your second being in your first year of college – none of which lasted more than a few months and kiss on the lips was the furthest thing you’d gotten. However, if your first two relationships disappointed you, then your third one would be a complete understatement. 
Zen’in Naoya was a man of many facades, and you were a fool to believe that there’d be good in any of them. 
Zen’in Naoya, heir of the ZEN corporate, also known as the general manager of your silly office job, was popular amongst the ladies for his good looks and charisma. The mere mention of his name gave a sour taste on your tongue. If you could describe this man in one single word, it would be suffocating. Beneath that charismatic exterior of his was a serpent ready to pounce on his prey when it was the time he deemed as fit.
In your pathetic, desperate attempt to chase after the love that you yearned for, you believed that he loved you. You believed that he loved you despite keeping your relationship a secret, his excuse being that he couldn’t allow himself to be seen romantically with a commoner. You believed that he still loved you when he’d act as if you were invisible as he entertained the other female workers. You believed that he still loved you when he’d sneak jealous glances towards you while you spoke with your other male coworkers. You believed his sweet, empty lies and you always ate them all up as if they were candy. Being with him felt suffocating – the mere idea of being kept as his secret lover, his toy – it was too much for you to bear, wishing for something more with someone who’d easily toss you to the side after playing with your emotions. 
A damned fool, that’s what you were. If present you could smack past you, you would’ve and made sure that it left a warm, red print on it, too.
It was about time that you ended things with the Zen’in heir, after being involved with the snake for six months. If someone were to ask you why you hadn’t left earlier, you wouldn’t be able to tell them – not that anyone would ask anyways, your relationship with that man was something that you’d keep to your grave, entertaining him for half a year straight was already too humiliating to bear. 
You shook your head rapidly as if it could swat those inappropriate and intrusive thoughts away from your mind. ‘It’s wrong to be thinking about these damn things during your best friend’s wedding, get a grip of yourself!’ 
Your fingers danced around the empty wine glass, your other palm resting on the sides of your cheeks as your gaze surveyed the reception hall. The music was blaring and you could make out the sight of your best friend, Riko, having the best time of her life dancing with her newly wedded husband. You cracked a small smile at the sight. She looked absolutely beautiful in the gown, and she definitely shone the brightest in the room. She glanced over to you, smiling widely as she blew multiple kisses and hearts your way and you laughed at Riko's adorable burst of energy.
You returned your attention to your empty wine glass, silently contemplating whether or not you should get a third glass.
“Y/N, babe, what are you doing out here drinking alone?” Ren, one of the bridesmaids – and one of your childhood friends, chimed in. You jumped a little at her sudden appearance, and then you followed with a light giggle. “It’s been a while since I drank something, I was honestly craving for some wine.”
“Is it just cravings?” She questioned, leaning towards you with her palm propped against her cheek and she stared at you intently. “You usually don’t enjoy drinking alone when you’re bothered about something. You know you can tell me anything, right?” 
“Am I that easy to read?” You complained jokingly.
Ren rolled her eyes at your response before grinning. “Yes. Now spill.”
“I recently ended things with someone,” you said, keeping it fairly vague. “I just wish I did it sooner, you know? Instead of making a fool out of myself…”
Right after you said that, you could tell that she wanted to know who the mystery man was but she relented. For a minute she stayed silent, and it seemed like she was trying to formulate the right words in her brain and 50 different combinations. 
“He already sounds like a pretty shitty guy,” Ren muttered under her breath before glancing back up at you with curious eyes, “I hope you don’t mind me asking, but what do you plan on doing next? Like, do you plan on being sad forever or…?”
“Being sad forever sounds good enough to me,” you joked, only to receive a light smack on the shoulder. 
“Bad!” Ren laughed before pausing once more. “Anyways, I was just about to ask you if you were okay with trying something new. I think it could, you know, be entertaining for you.”
“New? And what  do you mean entertaining—?”
“—Give me your phone, and I’ll show you!”
You were getting curious now. Raising a brow, you handed her your phone and she snatched it away from your grasp while cackling evilly. Minutes later, she handed you your phone and all that you could make out is a bright pink background and a heart in the middle. HeartChat, it reads. “What’s this supposed to be?” You questioned your friend.
“It’s something fun,” she replied, laughing giddily. “After work, when you get home, have some beer – and once you feel yourself getting drunk, use the app that I downloaded before you go to bed. Got it?”
“This looks a lot like tinder,” you remarked, not looking very convinced with your friend’s words. You weren’t the type to use dating apps, after all. 
“I promise you, you’ll be far more entertained.” Ren winked. 
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The blaring sound of your alarm resonated across the room, and you emitted a heavy, gruff sigh. Seven o’clock, it reads on your bright phone screen. You continued to stare at the screen for a couple more seconds, your body feeling lethargic and overall heavy from fatigue. You shouldn’t have left the reception so late. Groaning in disdain, you forced yourself up from the comfort of your bed and began your morning routine. It was around seven forty five when you finished, and with quick fingers, you grabbed your work ID, wallet and keys and shoved them into your bag before rushing outside your apartment. The walk to the nearest bus stop should take around four minutes, you thought to yourself. 
Myriads of thoughts slipped in your mind as you walked closer to your bus stop, ready to consume you whole. You hadn’t seen Naoya for a week already since the day you left him, and needless to say that week had been one of the most peaceful weeks you’ve ever had since stepping foot in that workplace. 
Sighing, you sat down on the bench and fixed the hem of your pencil skirt. Glancing at the time on your phone, seven-fifty, it read. The bus should be arriving very soon. 
It was eight-ten when you arrived at work, and you rushed across the building — making a beeline towards the elevator.
Just as the elevator was about to close, a hand peeks out through the gaps, thus the elevator opening and it took all your self-control to stop yourself from scowling. 
“It’s been a while,” Naoya walked in, feigning a smile. “It’s been a week, Mr. Zen’in.” you returned the smile. 
The elevator closes, leaving you confined with the man you desperately wanted to avoid. He turns his head slightly to face you, his eyes boring into yours. There was an uncomfortable tension lingering in the thick air. It seemed like he had many things to say to you but he relented, and you’d rather he keep it that way.
You looked away from the man, grabbing your phone in your bag. You pretended to scroll through your phone to pass the time. 
After what it seemed like an eternity, the door to your floor opened and you rushed to your desk.
 The Zen’in heir followed suit, heading towards his office. You could hear the whispers from your colleagues, theorizing as to where he might’ve gone in the previous week. You continued to set up your desk. You could honestly care less about the man’s business, though. 
The rest of the morning was spent with you answering phone calls, typing, printing out papers, organizing files – the usual, might you add. Occasionally you’d stare at Ren’s empty desk and silently make wishes that she’d just appear – you already knew that she was probably having the time of her life sleeping in on her day off. 
It was already time for your lunch break, if it weren’t for your two coworkers practically dragging you out of your desk you would’ve actually continued working until evening. 
“Y/N, you gonna join us for dinner and drinks next weekend?” Your coworker, Haruto, questioned. You chewed on your lunch silently, thinking of an answer while he and Hirumi.  waited with an eager expression. “I’m down,” you replied before teasing your friend, “is it going to be on you?”
“You wish,” Haruto rolled his eyes before taking a bite out of the onigiri he bought from the cafeteria, “boss said that everything’s going to be on him.”
You paused briefly. “That’s a first.”
“Right? This is the first time he’s actually gone out to join us for dinner. All it took was for Emi to invite him and he actually agreed.” Himari added. 
A part of you wanted to turn around and tell them that you had plans, but a part of you already knew that there really was no point avoiding Zen’in Naoya. He was your boss after all, and as long as he didn’t give you a hard time at work, you were content. You were sure that even after you ended your questionable relationship with him, he’d still act indifferent. It was already a given that his status and reputation were the two most important things to him, so you convinced yourself that acting as if nothing had happened was the best possible solution.
“Hi,” a sudden voice caught your attention and you quickly glanced up from your meal to meet gazes with Emi, your new colleague. You remembered when she was first introduced, she was immediately loved by everyone due to her kind and bubbly nature despite the young woman being a little clumsy at her job. She appeared shy in front of your presence and she gave you a soft smile. “Can I join you guys?”
“Yes, yes! Come sit with us!” Haruto replied, almost immediately and almost too enthusiastically. Emi took a seat next to him and she exchanged polite greetings with everyone. 
“Emi, just curious, how did you manage to bring Mr. Zen’in along? This is actually the first time he’s ever agreed to come join us for dinner and drinks.” Himari asked almost immediately and Emi’s cheeks were flushed a pale pink, surprised at her sudden question. You almost felt bad for Emi, watching her immediately getting put on the spot by your friend. Himari had always been the curious and nosy type, always needing some fresh gossip or anything to satiate her curiosity. 
“I didn’t know about that,” she replied, laughing shyly before locking eyes with yours. “When I asked him while we were getting coffee, he agreed immediately. But now that Himari told me that, I’m just as surprised.”
“Also,” Emi said, “Y/N, are you going to come too?”
You nodded your head in response while you took a small sip from your water bottle. 
“That’s great!” She clasped her hands together. “This would be both Y/N and Mr. Zen'in’s first time joining for dinner and drinks, then!”
You raised a brow at this. The way she put so much emphasis on you and your boss seemed a little uncanny – and you weren’t going to ignore the way she looked at you when she talked about him, either. You waved it off, though. Perhaps you were overthinking things and still felt somewhat cautious around the topic of your ex — if it was even right to be considered one, as embarrassing as that sounded.
After all, she was the flower of the office. 
“Yeah, our Y/N’s been too much of a hard worker.” Haruto added before turning over to you, too. “I’m even surprised that you agreed. Imagine if you didn’t go – that would’ve been the third time this year.” 
“She is someone that I look up to a lot,” Emi said briefly, giving you a soft smile. Not long after, she excused herself from the table. You silently watched her figure disappear the farther she walked. You glanced at the time on your phone and you sighed softly, you were going to have to return soon. 
It was nearing seven in the evening when you arrived back at your apartment, immediately plopping down onto your couch and grabbing your phone. For several minutes, you boredly scrolled through your phone before you suddenly remembered what Ren had told you last night: “After work, when you get home, have some beer – and once you feel yourself getting drunk, use the app that I downloaded before you go to bed. Got it?”
After changing into your pajamas and bringing your can of beer with some pork cutlet along with some dessert, you plopped back down on the couch. Opening the app on the phone, you raised your brows at your phone being bombarded with pink hearts before revealing the introduction page.
˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ WELCOME TO HEARTCHAT ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚  if you're looking for a little bit of spice, you have come to the right place!  before proceeding with the app, please confirm your age and date of birth: [date] / [month] / [year]
You followed the instructions, and surprisingly, that was all it took for you finish making your profile — if it was even considered to be one. There was no name, no profile picture, or no biography asked. "Interesting," you muttered to yourself as you explored the app.
Not even a minute later, your phone pinged.
M 0524454: you married? proceed to chatroom? yes | no
Not even a hello? You decided to ignore the message, taking another sip out of the beer can. You turned the television on, watching a drama that Hirumi once recommended you while you ate your pork cutlet bowl. It wasn't until nearly twenty minutes that you received another text, and this time you could only stare at your screen in pure confusion and disbelief.
M 0497205: ntmy, hoay proceed to chat room? yes | no
"What the hell do those even mean?" You mumbled to yourself, staring at the screen with heavy eyelids as you declined the person's request. Looking at all those abbreviations were about to give you one hell of a headache, combined with the beer.
M 0529485: age? proceed to chatroom? yes | no
"Entertaining, my ass." You muttered as you pressed your cool palms against your flushed cheeks, swiftly declining the person's request to chat. At this point, you were beginning to question why Ren downloaded this app on your phone in the first place. There was nothing entertaining except for the confusing text abbreviations appearing on the screen.
Just as you were about to close the app and call it a night, your phone pinged once more.
M 0337411: Hello. proceed to chatroom? yes | no
'Finally, someone normal." You thought to yourself, your finger hovering over the 'yes' option. 'If this person's not any good, I'll delete the app.'
F 0236113: Hello. M 0337411: Have you eaten dinner, yet?
'Oh, he's polite too!' You grinned, and you got yourself more comfortable on the couch -- laying on your stomach as your feet dangled in the air. You took a bite out of your kikufuku, munching happily as you texted the stranger.
F 0236113: I just had some pork cutlet. What about you? M 0337411: That's funny. I also had pork cutlet for dinner. M 0337411: I'm eating kikufuku right now for dessert. F 0236113: No way. That's crazy because I'm also eating kikufuku. M 0337411: Imagine if we have the same flavour too F 0236113: Okay in three seconds we'll tell each other the flavour of our kikufuku F 0236113: Zunda and cream  M 0337411: Zunda and cream M 0337411: It appears we have something in common.
You giggled a little, feeling your cheeks flush even more, unknowing if it was from the beer or from the excitement of clicking so quickly with a stranger -- or both. 
F 0236113: Can I ask you something then? F 0236113: Which do you prefer: shoyu or tonkotsu ramen? M 0337411: Tonkotsu. F 0236113: I prefer tonkotsu, too. F 0236113: I promise i'm not copying you. M 0337411: Let me make sure. M 0337411: Do you like dorayaki or warabi mochi? F 0236113: Warabi mochi. Especially with the syrup! M 0337411: Ah, me too. The syrup makes everything better. M 0337411: I wasn't trying to copy you either. F 0236113: Would you consider yourself to be a sweets type of person? M 0337411: I'd consider myself one, yes. I mostly eat sweets because they stimulate my brain.  F 0236113: I think sweets also gives me the same effects.  M 0337411: You sure you're not copying me this time? F 0236113: I'm not!!  M 0337411: Hard boiled egg or soft boiled egg? F 0236113: Soft boiled  M 0337411: Soft boiled F 0236113: Hot soba vs cold soba? M 0337411: Cold F 0236113: Cold!
You kicked your legs in the air, giggling. Who could've expected that you'd have so many things in common with a stranger. You continued to text the stranger for what it seemed like an hour, or two. Any remnants of fatigue from work had evaporated like water.
F 0236113: What else do you like?  M 0337411: Can I say something a little strange then?  F 0236113: Sure, what is it?
The stranger didn't text right away, this time. It was silent on your end for almost two minutes. You were about to open your second can of beer until you heard your phone ping.
M 0337411: I like phone sex.  M 0337411: Do you want to try having phone sex with me?
You almost choked on your spit, staring at the screen with wide eyes. If your cheeks had gotten any more hotter, it definitely wouldn't have been caused by the beer at all. Phone sex. Has this man gone mad? Your stomach churned a little and you felt your heart rate steadily increasing. You could only stare at his response, completely flabbergasted.  Was this was Ren meant by entertaining?
F 0236113: Sure, why not?
However, it wasn't like you hated it. You were unsure if the main source of your arousal was from the beer or simply from the excitement you felt towards engaging in such acts with a man whose face you've never seen — let alone know their name. Nevertheless, you didn't want to miss this chance.
His response was almost immediate, your phone ringing against the oak table — the sound of the app's ringtone playing repeatedly as you slowly brought your phone to your ear and pressed 'answer'.
"Hello?" A deep, baritone voice filled the silence and you swore if your cheeks weren't burning hot before — they definitely were now. His voice was definitely your type.
"H-Hello," you stammered, an immediate wave of shyness hitting you.
"Your voice," he began, "were you drinking?"
"How did you know?" You questioned him. Was it that obvious?
"You're stalling your words a little bit.” He commented before, a soft laugh leaving his lips soon after.
Stop. Even his laugh is sexy.
“I-Is that so?”
“Yeah,” he replied, “your voice sounds really good. It’s cute, too.”
'It's cute, too'
You felt your body heat up even more. Something about his voice made you feel like melting in a pool of your own heat — perhaps it was the way he drags his voice, or perhaps it was because of how deep his voice is, or perhaps it was the way he sounded like he came out of a porno or drama CD — and as much as you hated to admit it, it was so obvious that this stranger had reduced you into a horny and nervous mess.
"I like your voice too," you confessed.
"Oh? Is that right?"
"Yes."
You could hear the man chuckle a little before speaking again, "You'll hear much more of it very soon."
You blushed even more at his words. Was this man teasing you?
“Then, where are you right now?” He questioned. 
“Um, I’m on my couch right now in the living room.” You replied back to the man.
“The couch is pretty boring, don’t you think?”
“What makes you say that? I personally think it’s pretty comfy.”
"I do too, but the space's pretty narrow for you to be thrashing around while I fuck you, no?”
“T-that’s true,” you stammer out. You were really going to melt right there and then.
“Let’s move to the bed, then.”
The moment you stood up from your couch, you thought you were going to fall right back down. You could practically hear your heart beating through your ears, growing louder and louder, as you neared the bedroom.
"Are you nervous?" The man questioned you, the timbre in his voice sent shivers down your spine.
"Just a little bit," you confessed, "I've never done this before."
"It'll be okay. Just give me the red light, and we'll stop. Sounds good?"
You hummed in response as you entered your room and plopped down your bed.
"I'm guessing you're on the bed now."
"Hm, that's right."
Your ears flushed red when you heard the man’s breath hitch in his throat.
“Well then, want to take your pants off?”
“Actually,” you giggle, “I’m not wearing pants right now.”
“Haah, fuck.” The man groaned from the opposite line. “You’re doing this on purpose, huh?”
“Why won’t you strip out of your shirt then, princess? Do it nice and slow for me.”
You placed your phone down on the nightstand, and you followed the man’s instructions; slow hands the hem of your shirt before you pulled it over your head — you were practically naked now, all that was left were your panties.
“Good girl,” he praised, his voice breathless.
“It’s your turn,” you said breathlessly, “to take off your shirt.”
“As you wish.”
You grabbed your phone from the nightstand and pressed it against your ear, you could faintly hear the man unbuttoning his shirt before it dropped down to the ground, and lewd thoughts immediately came rushing into your mind, the heat pooling between your legs becoming even more unbearable.
“Anything else you want me to do?”
“Take off your pants,” you ordered, your voice quiet.
You could hear shuffling on the other end once more, your imagination running wild as the sounds of the belt unbuckling and dropping to the floor resonated in your ear as if it was a mild echo. He must be tall, judging from how long it took off his clothes. You closed your eyes, imagining that you were there with him, watching as he stripped out of his clothes in front of you.
“I’m all naked now,” the man finally said.
A soft moan slipped past your lips almost immediately after he uttered those words, your hips involuntary bucked against the mattress.
“Does my voice turn you on?” He questions you in a teasing tone, but it was evident that he was just as affected as you were.
“Yeah,” you admitted bashfully, your voice breathless.
“Your voice is a huge turn on for me too,” said the man, “turns me on so much that I wanted to things like this the moment I heard your voice.”
How could he sound so composed? You attempted to stifle a small whine — his voice and your imaginations were driving your senses wild. Despite being all alone in your bedroom, you swore that you could feel strong hands trailing their way down your body, travelling lower and lower.
“Now then,” he began, “put your hand in your panties and softly rub your clit for me.”
With shaking hands, you followed his commands in concupiscent obedience, slipping your right hand into your panties and rubbing the sensitive bud with your pointer and middle finger.
“Mhhm, aah.”  You were already breathless, despite it merely being the beginning. You could hear the faint noises of the male jerking off in the other line, his soft groans were music to your ears.
“I need more,” you panted, “I wan’ more.”
“Take off your panties, then, and continue rubbing that pretty pussy of yours with more pressure.”
The speed you took your panties off was almost embarrassing, knowing that a stranger — whose name and whose face you’ve never seen before — managed to reduce you into a desperate mess with just his voice. Plopping your back down on the bed, you spread your legs wide as your hand slowly returned to the sensitive bud.
Your soft moans of wanton filled the room, only getting louder from hearing the man groan. You imagined him on top of you, his breath hot in your ear — as he rubs your clit greedily with his large hands. You could feel your body growing lighter the more you continued with the assault on your clit. The pressure in your abdomen continued to build up, and your moans were raising in volume — sounding more lewder. You were getting closer to your orgasm, the sounds of the stranger playing with his cock along with his soft groans were itching you closer and closer to your release.
“I-I’m so close,” you let out a small whimper, bucking your hips desperately against your hand.
“Put your two fingers in,” the stranger said, almost in a pleading tone, “make yourself come like that, sweet girl. Imagine it’s me stretching that tiny hole of yours.”
You complied, inserting two fingers into your sopping wet cunt, sucking them in almost immediately. The wet sound of your pussy taking your fingers in made the man moan almost immediately.
“Fuck, you’re so wet. Is that all for me, huh?”
You could only moan in response, your hips thrusting into your hands, trying to reach deeper.
“Go faster.”
You listened to him and you picked up the pace, the pressure building up in your abdomen steadily increasing the closer you got to your orgasm. The sounds of your sopping cunt filled the room, together with the sounds of your needy moans and whimpers as you went faster and faster. In your pornographic imagination, his large fingers replaced yours — toying with your hole as his other hand played with your nipple. “Mhhm,” you arched your back, “I’m so so close, please—Ah!”
“Keep going princess, and don’t you dare stop.”
As if his words had cast a spell on you, your pace increased and your moans gotten even louder. Your imagination getting more and more vivid by the second.
"I'm cumming -- I'm cumming!" you babbled out, crying out in a desperate moan as you arched your back, letting your orgasm wash over you.
“You’re such a good fucking girl,” the man groaned out, and you replied with a soft laugh through your heavy breathing.
“I’m so close,” he spoke through heavy breaths, “get on your knees and raise your ass up for me.”
You followed his words, adjusting your position on the soft mattress so that your chest was pressed against the mattress and your ass high up in the air. You could feel warm hands travelling down your back and up to your breast -- Fuck, you were sensitive all over.
"Oh, how I'd love to fuck you like this." He said, chuckling lowly as he breathed heavily. "Make yourself cum for me, again. Think about my cock fucking your pussy."
You moan at his lewd words, your hips bucking up as you entered your two fingers back into your sopping hole. Your fingers weren't enough to stretch you out. You wanted more. You needed more. Your hips thrusted back against your fingers, hungry for more friction. Scenarios of the stranger fucking you played in your mind like it was a porno movie, you could imagine his nails gripping into your hips, his cock reducing you into a dumb mess.
"Ahh-- Fuckk.. By the way you're moaning right now, I can tell that you're close to coming. I-I'm getting close too -- Ah. Let's cum together. Tell me when you're cumming, please."
There was a certain strain in the stranger’s voice as his pace on his cock quickened, his voice breathy and low as he muttered a jumble of praises. At this point, you felt yourself growing even more lightheaded while another moan leaves your drooling lips.
“I’m gonna cum,” you told the man in a breathless whimper, and you could hear the sound of fapping quickening in response to your words.
“Cum for me.”
And just like that, your mind went completely blank as you came in your hand. A muffled moan escaped your lips, your face pressed into the pillows.
The man lets out the most sexiest moan soon after, almost whimpering as he rode out his orgasm.
There was a minute of silence between you both, shaky breaths filling the room as you both attempted to control it. You rolled onto your back, staring at your hand which was drenched in your juices.
“How do you feel?” He later broke the silence, and you let out a soft laugh. “Really good,” you told him, “I enjoyed it a lot.”
“That’s good, I really liked it too.”
“You know,” you began, “you talk super differently on call compared to how you text.”
“Oh? You don’t like it? I thought you liked it.”
“I-I never said I didn’t like it!” You retorted. “It was just an honest observation.”
“Anyway,” you continued, “I’ve got to go now, it’s getting late now and I have work tomorrow…”
“Alright then,” replied the man, “but can we call again?”
“Yeah, I’d like that.”
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It was a new day with same, old, usual routine. Groggily getting up from your bed as the sounds of the alarm blaring from your phone resonates athwart your bedroom. As if your body was set into auto-pilot, the rest of the early morning spent preparing for work turned into a blur, and it wasn't until now--while commuting to work--that you could feel your phone vibrating in your hand.
M 0337411: Good morning. Did you sleep well?
Oh.
Memories from last night suddenly came rushing in, and you never wanted anything more than to crawl into a hole and stay there, and rot for the rest of eternity. A warm incarnadine flush returns to your cheeks as you recollect the events that passed, the sheer embarrassment washing over you; the images of you -- evidently drunk, horny, and naked on your bed--engaging with such dirty acts with a stranger over the phone. A stranger.
It took almost everything in you to not scream in embarrassment in the bus, your palms lightly smacking your cheeks in hopes you'd cool off the heat in your cheeks. You were for sure going to melt.
Moments later, you found yourself staring at the tall glass building before you in a complete daze. All of a sudden, you didn’t really feel the need to work.
The rest of the morning was spent with staring mindlessly at the computer screen, restless fingers tapping on your desk. The computer was taking its sweet time connecting to the office printer, the ‘retry’ window popping up for the three tries you had attempted. Sighing softly, you slumped your back against your seat as you turned over to Ren, who busied herself with (discretely) playing solitaire on the computer.
Silently, you wondered how she’d react if you told her what had happened last night.
You switched your gaze back to your stubborn computer, eyes glaring into the bright screen — daring it to try defying you, one more time. With focused eyes, you watch as your computer slowly connects with the printer; silently praying that a ‘retry’ window wouldn’t appear this time.
Printer connected. 1 out 8 documents printing…
You clicked your tongue, the corners of your lips curling up into a small triumphant grin. It was about damn time. The weight on the plush of the chair was lifted once you stood up from your desk, adjusting the hem of your skirt as you made your way to the printer athwart the office. You lean your back slightly against the table, and you open your phone to pass time.
F 0236113: Good morning. I’m sorry I didn’t reply right away, I was caught up with work. How are you now? M 0337411: I'm so sleepy. I can't stop thinking about last night.  F 0236113: Last night? M 0337411: Don't tell me you forgot... You're despicable
You attempt to stifle a giggle at the man's texts, your hand covering your mouth in an effort (though, it was in vain) to hide the huge grin growing on your face. You knew very well about stranger danger, but for some odd reason, whenever you open your phone, you always —somehow— get gravitated towards him. Of course, you had your cautions, but if you told Ren that this app wasn't at the least amusing, you'd certainly be a whole ass liar.
F 0236113: I'm kidding. How can I ever forget that? M 0337411: Of course you can't. Care to remind me who said that my voice turned her on last night?  F 0236113: ...Who's the despicable one, now? M 0337411: You're not denying it.
Shaking your head in amusement, you stuffed your phone back inside the pocket of your blazer and you grabbed the finished documents out of the machine, and organizing the sheets of paper with one hand while reaching out for the nearest stapler in the other. As much as you were enjoying your silence, it wasn't long before it had to be interrupted. In your peripheral vision, you could make out someone's hand placing a cup of coffee on the table, and your gaze snapped over to a familiar blond male — his sharp eyes making it much easier to identify the man. You held yourself back from rolling your eyes, and you feigned a smile towards your boss.
"You've been working extra hard these days, Y/N." said Naoya. "Here, I got you one of your favourites."
"Thank you, Mr. Zen'in." You thanked the male as you grabbed the cup, it was your one of your favourites — one that he'd always get you back when you used to be together. "I was just about to hand you these documents."
You handed your boss the finished documents, ready to excuse yourself back to your desk.
"Hold on," Naoya said, "we still have some things to discuss."
What’s even there to discuss? You scoffed in your mind. Beyond a doubt, there was the slightest bit of hesitance into making your decision — however, you were more curious than you were cautious or nervous at this point.
"Okay," you said, smiling softly at the man. "What is it that you want to talk about, hm?"
Your soft words were laced with some form of venom, your eyes staring at the man expectantly.
"We can talk about it in my office," said Naoya before muttering, "follow me."
You followed Naoya compliantly, however, you couldn't ignore the unbearable tension filling the air between the both of you.  To be completely honest, you were beginning to regret even agreeing to follow him. Even if he had many things to discuss with you, what exactly could you reply to him with? Should you just stare at him and smile? Whilst rehearsing lines of excuses in your mind, you found yourself in his office, already seated on the sofa across from him.
"You moved on quite quickly," was the first thing Naoya uttered, breaking the awkward silence that had befallen you. "You already talking to someone new?"
"I honestly thought that our conversation would be work-related, was my judgement wrong? Besides, whether or not I moved on shouldn't be a concern to you." You replied, your usual (fake) soft tone now replaced with a certain sternness.
Naoya clicked his tongue, crossing his arms. The usual friendly, charismatic facade that he had always kept on eventually melted off -- his imperturable expression now plastered across his face. He raised an eyebrow towards you, his gaze locked onto yours with such intensity — at first glance, anyone could've easily mistaken it as some ardent desire.
"Is there anything else that you want to tell me?" You questioned him. "If not, I can just leave."
"You know, many days were spent with me wondering what went wrong between us to make you leave." He said before standing up from his couch, inching his way towards you. This ignorant fool. How could he act so stupid, unknowing of what caused the downfall of your relationship. He lowered himself, his eyes meeting your evidently vexed gaze.
"I missed you," he confessed, and you lightly scoffed at his words.
"Naoya," you said his name, your voice harsh, "everything was what went wrong in this relationship. You're my boss. There was no hope for the both of us -- I was practically invisible to you unless you needed something from me. Tell me this, Naoya, do you really mean it when you say you miss me? Or do you miss the woman that was easily wrapped around your finger?"
Naoya stared at you, shocked at your words before his lips curled up into a small smirk. A small chuckle left his lips, laced with contempt. “Now, what are you trying to say, Y/N?”
“What I’m saying is, Mr. Zen’in, don’t spout shit you obviously don’t mean. Besides, it appears to me that someone new caught your eye. Emi, was it?”
The mention of Emi was genuinely impulsive on your part, but you obviously had your suspicions with how easily he’d get swayed by her, and how fixated she was on the mere topic of the Zen’in heir, as well as how you noticed how close they’d been getting prior to the breakup — but his reaction told you everything you needed to know and you chuckled quietly.
Naoya’s facial expressions dropped, it was almost cold. You knew all too well that this man had a knack for control, but that gave you even more of a reason to not waver underneath his cold gaze. You knew, coming into his office, that you were going to have to play quite a difficult game with this man. You had already grown a skin of steel (at least you hope you did) from the constant gaslighting you had to endure from him.
"Y/N," he said your name sternly, "what the hell are you even saying right now? That doesn't make any sense—"
"—I have nothing left to say towards you, Mr. Zen'in." You said while smiling apathetically at the blond male, who seemed visibly displeased at your words. "Were you not even curious as to where I might've went this past week?"
No, not really. Over the course of time chasing after this man's love and affection, you soon realized that trying to save a relationship with a man who wouldn't even bother with you was straight up pointless. Over the course of time chasing after this man's love and affection, you realized that you no longer wanted to be concerned with him.
You heaved a sigh, shaking your head as you stood up from the sofa, making your way towards the door.
"I'll take my leave now, talking about this will only bring us nowhere. I suggest we continue acting like nothing happened between us — work will be easier for us that way.”
The Zen'in heir opened his mouth to retort, but no words could come out of his throat. He was a man who had grown accustomed to getting things his way throughout his twenty seven years of living, and to say that a mere employee could cast such an effect on him--there were many phrases that were forming in his mind, but he relented, once again.
Once again, he watched your figure getting farther away from the sofa, your hand reaching out of the door.
There was no way in hell that you’d allow to cross paths with him, or any man like him. Your relationship with him was awfully hot and cold — one day, he’d invite you to a hotel room under a false name, and shower you in his so called ‘love’, and the next day he’d treat you like you had never existed, flirting with all the other women who worked higher up in the hierarchy all the whilst giving you false reassurances. However, you knew far too well that your status could never satiate the man’s hunger for climbing up in the social ladder. All the fake love he gave you, and all the time and energy wasted on him — no matter what he chose to do next, for sure wouldn’t affect you.
You attempted to hide your shaky breaths. You had bursted out like that — not only towards your ex-boyfriend, but your boss. With slightly trembling hands, you twist the knob open, ready to dart out of the office and make a beeline towards the exit.
The door swung open, and rather than leaving immediately, you found yourself frozen in the doorway as you stare into bright, cerulean eyes with your watery ones.
"Oh? Am I interrupting something?"
Your eyes widened. That voice — his voice. Perhaps you were just overthinking, but it sounded all too familiar. No, you had to be overthinking. His ivory locks framed his pale face, his business formal attire adorning his tall, lean frame — his features, in general, were a literal godsend. He appeared incredibly rich and powerful, much like your boss, the Zen'in Naoya — if not, maybe even more. You mentally smacked yourself, how could you possibly make such baseless assumptions towards a man you had just seen.
"Gojo Satoru," Naoya said, his voice laced with obvious annoyance. "You should've texted me that you were arriving earlier than usual.��
Almost immediately, you moved out of the way, sending the tall man a small smile of acknowledgement as he entered the room. The white-haired male leaned against the wall beside you, rather than getting himself comfortable on the exorbitant-priced furniture.
“Sorry, sorry,” the man whose name was Satoru apologized weakly; his tone almost apathetic, “my flight arrived way earlier, and I was bored, so why not pass some time?”
The blond male tutted in response, shaking his head towards Satoru before darting his gaze over to you, whom in which made a discrete attempt to escape his office. “L/N,” Naoya called out your last name, his lips curled into a grin, “do you have time to show Gojo around the building?”
It was evident that Naoya wanted nothing to do with his guest, it was all plastered across his face.
Why couldn’t he do it himself? Why couldn't he call his secretary himself? You pondered to yourself as you returned the plastic smile, hoping that Naoya could see the vein that popped on your temple. You weren't in the mood to retaliate any longer, though. If this meant that you could leave his office, then it was fine.
"Yeah, of course." You switched your attention to the taller male, "Is there anywhere in the building that you haven’t seen yet?”
Gojo stared at you, almost surprised, for a moment before grinning. There was something in his gaze that made you want to shrivel up into a ball. As much as you wished to deny these intrusive thoughts that were lingering in the back of your mind, there was simply no way that he could be the stranger that you spoke to. However, the way he spoke — his pronunciation, his tone, the way he dragged his words, his voice — it was all too similar.
“Let’s get out of this office first, and then I’ll tell you.” Gojo said, smirking before shifting his gaze towards the glaring Zen’in.
The walk down the hallway was dreadfully silent. For a man like him who was verbose from the past minute, he was almost silent as you both headed for the elevator. “Mr. Gojo,” you said, breaking the silence, “is this your first time in the building?”
“Yeah,” he replied almost immediately, as if he had been waiting for you to speak. “By the way, your name is L/N…?”
“Y/N,” you finished, your pointer finger pressed firmly against the ‘up’ button. Then started the waiting game.
“Oh, Y/N.” Gojo repeated your name, his lips curling up into a small grin. “You know, you sound awfully familiar for someone that I’ve just met.”
“That’s interesting,” you said, your voice suddenly going quiet underneath his cerulean gaze. This awkwardness and tension lingering in the air was going to be the cause of your demise, you swore to yourself.
“Ahem—I suppose you don’t know where the meeting will be held later,” you said quickly, your voice getting higher in pitch, “there’s this huge conference room on the tenth floor, I’ll lead you to it.”
“No need to be so tense,” Gojo laughed, “I promise I don’t bite. So, speak normally with me, like how you would with a friend.”
You bit the inside of your cheek at his words, if someone found you speaking informally to someone as high up in the business hierarchy such as him, they would definitely get the wrong idea, and the possibilities of rumours spreading in the office were high. Rumours were always a pain in the ass to deal with, so you really didn’t want to risk it.
“I still have to be careful, Mr. Gojo.” You smiled at the male. “It wouldn’t be a good look for me if I’m seen being informal towards you inside the building.”
“Will you be less tense with me if we talk outside the building, then?”
“I-I don’t understand what you’re trying to say, Mr. Gojo.”
The ding! coming from the elevator instantly broke you out of your thoughts, rushing into the empty space while uttering a quiet, “Come in,” towards the business man.
You stood across from Gojo, your eyes darting across the space — looking at anything, just anything besides him. You crossed your arms close to your chest, almost as if it could give you extra warmth aside from your blazer. Despite after crossing paths with him, you could already tell that Gojo Satoru was an unpredictable man. It was killing you.
You snapped your gaze towards the little screen above the sliding door, watching as the number slowly increased while the elevator lifted higher and higher. Six more floors to go.
“Sorry, I hope you don’t mind me making a phone call.” Gojo said in a singsang tone, his large hand pulling out his phone out of the pocket of his trousers.
“Go ahead,” you muttered out, sparing the man a quick smile before your attention returned to the screen above the elevator door. Three more floors to go.
Just as you were about to relax, closing your eyes while waiting for the elevator to reach the tenth floor — you felt your phone violently vibrate inside your pocket, and shortly after, the HeartChat app ringtone echoed in the silent space. You felt your sweat run cold, rushing to get your phone out. Glancing up at the white haired male, you realized he had been staring at you the whole time with the phone in his hand, amused.
M 0337411 is calling… [accept | decline ]
All those intrusive thoughts that you tried so hard to ignore were right, after all.
You were simply going to die of embarrassment.
“What a coincidence. So, I was right after all. As soon as I heard your cute voice I automatically knew it was you.”
Everything was literally thrown at you today—first, having to deal with your ex (who wasn’t aware in the slightest clue with what he did wrong) and second, being put into the corner of the elevator with Gojo Satoru, as known as the stranger you had phone sex with. You didn’t have a mirror with you to know what kind of expression you were making in that moment, but you for sure felt an overwhelming surge of mortification.
Out of all days, it had to be the day after — especially when the memories of the night before were still fresh in your mind.
Out of all people, it had to be Gojo Satoru, the new man in the building.
“And given your reaction,” Gojo said, gently tilting your chin to meet his eyes; a hint of amusement present in his gaze, “you also recognize me.”
You swore you were going to melt, not only from embarrassment but, as ashamed as you were to admit it, him — it was even more embarrassing as you had grown aware of the wetness between your legs accumulating, only hidden by your black pencil skirt. Gojo Satoru, he truly was a sight to behold given his godsend features and his voice. The arousal that you had tried to suppress from last night slowly returns — all those lewd thoughts you had about the stranger, and he was there — within your reach.
“Not here,” you whispered, lightly smacking the man’s hand of your face. The look of chagrin was plastered all across your face, your cheeks stained with a bright incarnadine hue and your eyes darting away from his. He found it utterly adorable. “The door’s going to open any moment now.”
Right as you said that, the door opened—and thank god there was no one waiting on the other side of the door. There would simply be zero explanation that would be able to save you — his body was close to yours as you were nearly pressed in the corner of the elevator and hot, unbearable tension flooded the thick air.
“A-Anyways,” you stammered out, rushing out of the confines of the elevator, “to the conference room, it’s uh— this way. If you’ll follow me…”
Gojo followed suit, walking in a languid pace as he watched you speed-walk down the hall before stopping in front of a large opaque grey double door You pushed it open, signalling the man to enter.
Shortly after, you entered the room. “To be honest, I never stepped foot inside this room before—until today, that is.”
You traced the tips of your fingers along the sides of the large wooden table, your eyes scanning your surroundings. It actually looked really nice and clean. It was aesthetically pleasing to the eyes, too.
“Are you here for a business project with Mr. Zen’in?”
“I suppose you can say that, but I’m mainly here to speak with Zen’in Naobito .”
“Ah, the CEO then.”
“That’s correct.”
Then returned the silence, as well as the growing tension in the air. Just you were about to turn around and open the door, a strong hand stops you in your tracks. “Wait,” Gojo grabbed your attention, pulling you closer so you could face him.
You frantically glanced toward the door, afraid that someone could walk in.
The tension between the both of you was so strong, anyone could've cut it down with a knife, but there'd still be some struggle to it. You could barely breath; the air between the both of you felt warm, and only increased in temperature the longer you stayed in the room.
“This room will be empty for hour and a half before they arrive and start the meeting,” he assured you before leaning his face closer to your ear, his breath hot as he continued to speak. "Besides I still couldn't help but think about last night. Does last night still play fresh in your mind?"
Oh, Lord. You swallowed your saliva, the warmth in your cheeks quickly returning as you stared at Gojo with a flustered expression plastered all across your face. He pulled you closer, and you didn't fight against it; the pleasant smell of his cologne filled your nostrils, you could grow addicted to it.
"I'd be lying if I said I didn't think about it all," you replied, your voice quiet.
That was enough of an answer for him. "Good," he said, grinning.
You couldn't ignore the utter lack of distance between both your bodies; your chest pressed against his with his one arm wrapped around your waist, his other hand caressing your chin — tilting your head slightly while he silently examined your lips. You also took this as a chance to stare at his features up close, and you were right when you told yourself that he was blessed by the gods and your eyes lingered to his lips; they looked so soft, it almost made you wonder what it'd feel and taste like. You didn't want him to go.
"Do you want me to stop?" He asked you, however, there was something in his azure eyes that begged you to tell him to keep going — there was a certain desperation to it. You looked at Gojo with a pleading gaze, however you also appeared to be dazed by his baritone voice, your lips trailing down to his lips.
"Kiss me," you told him, your voice dripping with arousal.
There was a stifled groan coming from the man before he pulled your face to his, his lips devouring yours. His lips tasted of honey, sweet and addicting; his hand pressed strongly against the small of your back as he walked you against the table. Large hands played with the hem of your skirt while you softly moaned in his mouth, your hands playing with the soft cushion of his ivory locks.
All rational thoughts had slipped out of your mind like butter, and all that took over was the pent up sexual desire and pure arousal.
You both briefly pulled away, a string of saliva was connected from both your lips.
“What if someone walks in on us?” You questioned the male, your voice nearly breathless.
“Don’t worry, sweets. The doors are locked, and room’s soundproof too.” Gojo replied, his hands slowly caressing up your skirt, “I’m surprised that no one hid the remote, too.”
"And fuck, have you seen yourself in the mirror? It's almost like you're begging to be fucked by me." He said, relishing the sight of your flushed face with your eyes staring up at him in wanton, as well as your cleavage firmly pressed pressed against his chest; the first few buttons had already gotten undone, revealing your black lace bra.
You briefly remembered telling him about how he sounded so different compared from how he texted when you first called him, and now that you were face to face with him — you soon came to realize that whatever words he spat out of his mouth were nothing but prurient, with you at least.
“Dirty girl, we just met and you’re already giving me that look. We’re in the conference room, too.” Gojo continued to tease, the tip of his finger playing with the waistband of your panties.
“It’s your fault,” you bit back playfully, “I bet you’ve kissed many women to be that good at kissing.”
Gojo immediately laughed at your response, “I’m honoured, but this is actually my first.”
“T-That's bullshit,” you said, surprised. “there’s no way that this is your first—Ah!”
Your own words got cut off by a surprised gasp, your head thrown back as your eyes rolled back in pleasure. He had pushed the slick fabric aside, and he easily eased a large finger inside your heat. Fuck. His fingers were far more better than you could’ve ever imagined — they were slender, yet girthy. His one finger could stretch you out more than your own two fingers could. Gojo eased his middle finger inside and fuck, was he about to cum by the way your pussy greedily took him in.
“Ho-ly shit, sweets. So fucking wet that my fingers just keep getting sucked back in.” He said through gritted teeth, a hoarse chuckle slipping past his throat.
You tried to muffle your moans, covering your trembling mouth with both your hands as you succumbed to the pleasure that this man was giving you. You, for sure, had gone crazy — crazy to the max. Just earlier you were worried about getting caught being informal with him, but here you were, getting your pussy fingered by him in the conference room. Not only that, that man currently working his fingers into you, Satoru Gojo, was the stranger you had phone sex with last night. You were absolutely insane.
His pace quickened — it was almost merciless, his thumb eventually joining into the mix to rub your sensitive bundle of nerves; the sounds of your drenched pussy being absolutely ravished by his filled the room, along with your muffled whimpers. With his empty hand, he grabbed both your hands and held them in a vice grip, dragging them away from your lips. "Hearing you moan in person is so fucking hot. I want to hear more."
And if he wasn’t rough with his fingers before, he definitely was now; desperately trying to draw all sorts of sounds from you — from the squelch of your wet pussy to your pretty moans, he wanted more. You, however, were completely writhing underneath his grip; your body sensitive from how well he was treating your needy hole. You could feel yourself coming close, the taste of orgasm was merely on the tip of your tongue, and all you could think about was how well his fingers were stretching you out. It wasn’t long before you felt the coil in your stomach tighten, and Gojo curled his fingers — making contact with the rough, spongy skin that made your toes curl. You arched your back, pressing your body closer to his — moaning his last name softly as you rode out your first orgasm. Gojo groaned along with you, muttering a line of praises as he slowly pushed his fingers in and out, relishing the aftermath of your release; coated with your juices.
Gojo’s patience was already thin, as you could say, it was treading on thin ice.
"Fuuck, you're so hot — you're gonna make me cum, I swear." rasped Gojo, his breath hot on your ear. He pressed lingering kisses across your neck while his hands traveled to your clothed breasts, giving them a light squeeze, "I just want to eat you up."
With how seductive his voice sounded, you were convinced that you were going to cum for the second time; right there, and then.
With one swift movement, he pulled your skirt down (along with your drenched underwear), threw the thin pieces of fabric at his side and got himself levelled with your pussy, now all bare for him to savour. His mouth watered at the sight; he could see how your hole pulsed, needing something to fill it back in. God, he needed to fuck you.
“You feeling shy now, hm?” Gojo teased, his eyes snapped over to your flustered ones.
You’ve never felt so exposed before, your legs spread wide apart as you leaned further back against the table— you were completely under the mercy of this man, and it only made you further aroused as a result. Something about doing something so lewd in the conference room, at your workplace, let alone with a stranger as handsome as he was — you’ve never felt so thrilled. You were probably going to smack yourself later for being so reckless and irresponsible, but right here at this moment, you were going to savour every sensation; his touch, his taste, his voice, everything.
Without ever breaking eye contact with you, he licked a long stripe of saliva over your already drenched folds and your hips automatically bucked up at the pleasure. He watched as you writhed underneath his touch, a shuddering breath leaving your swollen lips. You were truly a sight to behold, and if it weren’t for the location, he would’ve had you completely naked for him. Thoughts of you never ceased to part from his mind, from hearing your voice to mere imaginations of fucking you senseless. Needless to say, his imaginations could never ever compare to what was unfolding before him.
He let out a satisfied hum against your folds, emitting light vibrations through your veins, just before he dug his face deeper in between your legs — it was almost as if this man was starved; his tongue and lips greedily sucking onto your clit, twirling the sensitive bud around with the tip of his tongue. You shivered against his touch, "G-Gojo--Fuck."
"Satoru," Gojo corrected you for a moment before returning to his ministrations, "wanna hear you say my name."
This time, he stuck his tongue inside your pussy — his finger returning to rub on your clit.
"Satoru," you moaned his name, "fuck, that feels so good."
Gojo moaned into your pussy in response, his actions only getting more messier and more carnal the more he tasted you — he was getting drunk from the mere taste of you.
It wasn't long before you felt your impending release, the second one at that, and you gripped your fingers tightly around Satoru's ivory locks, muttering out a line of curses and 'i'mcoming'imcomingi'mcoming—' as your body shook around his head.
"Good girl. Good fucking girl." You heard Satoru mumble out praises as he lapped up all your juices, relishing in the sweet scent and taste of pure arousal that dripped down his cerise lips. “You taste so fucking delicious, I was seriously about to cum.”
“Fuck,” he hissed to himself, and you could hear the sounds of his belt unclasping — dropping to the floor. He was growing even more needy for you, and his horniness level had honestly gone through the fucking roof at this point. All he wanted to do now was to fuck you senseless.
"Satoru," you muttered his name, voice laced with pure desire, "want you to put it in already."
“There’s no way I won’t fuck your pussy today,” replied Gojo, discarding his undergarment, and almost immediately, his erect cock sprung up and your mouth began to water at the girth and length. Just how was that going to fit inside you?
Your reaction didn't go by unnoticed by the ivory-haired male, and his voice got a little gentle. He rubbed his cock against your slick folds, and you both shuddered at the sensation. "You'll be okay, just relax. You can do that for me, yeah?"
"Mhm," you nodded your head, almost a bit too frantically. Given the limited amount of time that you both had, you needed him inside now.
"Take a deep breath for me, 'kay?"
You complied to his words, closing your eyes as you inhaled deeply -- however, you nearly choked on your spit when only his tip entered. Satoru constantly gave you gentle reassurances; gently rubbing the sides of your hips, all while he pushed himself deeper into your walls. There was simply no way this was his first time, you thought to yourself silently — but all your thoughts instantly turned into mush once he hit the hilt; his tip meeting your cervix. You moaned his name, your eyes slightly rolling back at the immense pleasure the man had been drowning you in.
Satoru groaned at the delightful sensation before chuckling through strained breaths, "See? It wasn't so hard."
He gave you a brief moment to recollect yourself, three seconds in fact, before he began to roll his hips against yours; pulling his cock back until the tip was barely inside, and he plunged back in. He did all this at an almost rapid pace, making your whole entire body turn into jelly.
"Look at your pussy, sucking me in so greedily when I just started to fuck you. Dirty girl." He rasped, his lips curled up into a grin and his gaze laserfocused on how your pussy was connected to him. It was taking everything in him not to cum right away, let alone cum inside you — but the sensations of your walls clamping tightly around his shaft was making it difficult to think straight.
He kept up with the relentless pace, relishing in the sweet sounds your wet pussy was making while he fucked you as well as your moans.
He could feel you tightening around even more around him, as if your pussy was trying to milk him dry. The pace of his thrusts began to stagger, and he could feel himself getting closer to his release, however, rather than keeping up with his pace, he slowed down. You snapped your gaze to the Satoru, confused.
"Don't worry princess, I just want to try something new right now."
Just as you were about to question him on what exactly he was planning to do, you gasped in surprise when he lifted you up from the table with ease; your arms instinctively wrapped around his shoulders as he aligned your pussy with his cock, and steadily, he dropped you down on his length. You both moaned in tandem at the sensation. He watched your face intently, how it scrunched together in immense pleasure, your mouth slightly agape as your lips spilled out a myriad of moans while he lifted you and dropped you on his cock at a steady rhythm.
"Ohfuckohfuck--'Toru, you're so deep." You whimpered, stuffing your head into the crook of his shoulders while he continued to plunge into you. His grip on your ass tightened as he began to pick up the pace, and your moans were continuously broken down each time he thrusted his cock into you. He was relentless, and he was already obsessed with how you clamped down so tightly around him. He could honestly never get enough of it -- of you. And, how he loved watching you getting dumb over his cock, hearing you jumble nonsense all while telling him how badly you needed his cock had definitely done a number on him.
The tightening coil sensation that reverberated in the depths of your stomach returned once more the longer the man had pleasured you and you dug your nails deeper into the man's shoulders. "I'm gonna cum, fuck Satoru, I'm so close...!"
"Fucking cum on my cock," Gojo ordered you, his voice was almost pleading, and he kept up the pace, squeezing his eyes tightly and groaning at how tight your walls were squeezing him. You let out a cry, arching your back and curling your toes, as you came around his cock; your juices creaming around his shaft. He gently brought you back down to the floor, but held the small of your back immediately when he noticed that you were about to lose your balance.
Cumming inside you could wait for another day, he thought to himself as he desperately rubbed his hand on his cock, his lips immediately diving into yours for a passionate kiss. Soft groans left his rose-tinted lips as he melded his mouth with yours. He could feel his abdomen growing tighter, his legs getting weaker, and his mind getting blank. With a deep, strained moan slipping past the man's throat, he painted your thighs white with his seed.
Heavy breaths filled the room, and then came the soft chuckles.
“I’d like to say we’re really compatible,” said Gojo, pressing a soft kiss against your temple before languidly pulling a handkerchief from the pocket of his trousers; cleaning the mess he had made on your skin. “Don’t you agree, Y/N?”
You were far too dazed to comprehend most of the words that spilled from Gojo’s mouth, so you chose to nod your head in response to the man’s question. Gojo was quite the gentleman, upon realizing that your legs still felt weak and wobbled, he immediately took action — helping you slide your skirt back on while stuffing your drenched panties in his trousers (to which you gave him a light smack on the shoulder, but he didn’t mind honestly), buttoned your shirt back up, and helped put your blazer back on; he did all that while muttering sweet praises in your ear, almost tickling the skin. Your hair was still a mess, though, and your lips still appeared to be swollen. Gojo ran his fingers through your locks, making a pathetic attempt at fixing your hair. At least he tried, though. He shortly fixed his appearance after; all he did was clasp his belt back on, fix his attire, and ruffle his ivory locks — all within a minute.
“We still have fourty-five minutes left to spare.” Satoru said, staring at his phone screen before he shoved it back inside his pocket (not where your panties are, though). “We should head out now before someone tries to get in.”
“You’re a liar,” you said weakly, your voice almost breathless, “there’s no way that this is your first.”
Satoru chuckled, “Again, I’m honoured, but you’re my first.”
He grabbed the tiny remote and pressed the button, thus unlocking the double-doors. You didn’t really feel the need to ask him why he seemed so familiar with the conference room as you were heavily fixated on his face; his cerulean eyes gazing into yours, a bright smile painted on his pale visage.
“Let me take you out sometime,” Gojo blurted out. “You’re totally my type, and I want us to get to know each other better.”
“And how do I know that you don’t say that to other women using that app?”
“You were the first and only one I texted on the app,” Gojo replied, “and we are alike in so many aspects — especially our compatibility in sex.“
You rolled your eyes jokingly, before smiling at the male. “Okay then, I accept your offer. You know, you’re also my type.”
“And,” Gojo added, “we both get turned on by each other’s voices.”
“Let’s go,” you shrugged off the chuckling male, opening the double-door. Fortunately enough, there was no one present in the halls and there was still plenty of time before the meeting took place.
“Mr. Gojo,” you spoke to him formally, however there was a tint of teasing in your voice as his name spilled out of your lips like honey. “Anywhere else you’d like to go?”
“You. Me. My place, or yours.”
“You— I’m talking about if there’s anything else you’re not familiar with in the building.” You whispered harshly. “And, watch your volume!”
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It had been a week since your last tryst with the Gojo Satoru, and needless to say, talking to him was a breath of fresh air. HeartChat switched over to SMS and there came the video calls. Even as promised, he brought you out to his favourite restaurants and cafés. Over the course of those past few days, you learned many things about the handsome man (aka god’s favourite), and he learned many things about you. For starters:
He was the chief executive officer of GOJO Tech, he was once the heir, but it wasn’t too long before his father decided to give him the role at the age of 24 (he’s now 28), and since then, business had been booming for the Gojo clan.
His relationship with the Gojo clan wasn’t the best — despite him being the new head of the clan and CEO, some members were constantly preying on his demise. He didn’t really care, though.
He hated the taste of alcohol — he absolutely despised it. He drank it once during a party and immediately “chased” it with a mouthful of strawberry cake. You later questioned him if he really knew what a chaser was.
His first time having phone sex was with you, he tried acting confident since it also was your first.
He was basically good at everything he did—everything that would normally be strenuous or difficult would always appear to be easy on him.
Nevertheless, there were some things that remained unchanged, and that was the phone sex that you both subconsciously agreed to do nightly, as if it was some sort of promise.
You weren’t going to lie, but you nearly forgot about the drinking party with your colleagues — once you remembered, you immediately invited Gojo to accompany you (it was also at that moment where you remembered that he didn’t drink alcohol). Surprisingly, he agreed to come along, and even offered to give you a ride there.
So there you were in the restaurant, seated near the end of the table with Gojo beside you while the rest of your colleagues chattered loudly, it was awfully obvious that there had been alcohol in their system. You had already downed a glass of beer, and you could feel your stomach and cheeks steadily growing warmer. You turned over to Gojo, who busied himself in devouring all the food, even ordering for several new plates whilst your colleagues cheered on for him in a drunken haste. You had almost forgotten point number 6 — Not only was Gojo Satoru a dessert fanatic, he was also a huge foodie.
Emi made her way towards the end of table, where you and Gojo were seated; bottle of beer and sake in her hands. There was absolutely no denying how attractive she was, her eyes appeared innocent yet they relayed something far more different.
“I’m surprised that Mr. Gojo came along,” Emi began, smiling softly as gave the man beside you a playful stare; swiftly ignoring your presence. “I’ve heard that you’ve been incredibly busy these days. So, I’m glad. Do you mind if I pour you a drink?”
“Nah, it’s alright. I don’t drink those kind of stuff.” Gojo waved her off, sparing her a quick and friendly smile.
“Oh! By the way, did you and Y/N arrive together? I never expected you two to be so close, especially at work, considering how you just arrived here less than a week ago.” questioned Emi, tilting her head to one side while staring at him, feigning innocence. This irked you a little, as you could never tell what she was thinking behind those shy and innocent eyes of hers.
“I wonder how that could be,” she trailed off even further, her voice was loud enough so that a couple of colleagues could hear — loud enough for Zen’in Naoya to hear.
Flower of the office, my ass.
You could even feel your ex glaring daggers at both your directions. You took a large gulp out of your glass of beer while Gojo laughed loudly.
“My, you’re a curious one alright.” He said in between chuckles. “We simply crossed—”
“Satoru and I are currently seeing each other,” you cut him off, pointing your nearly empty glass towards Emi’s direction; your cheeks warm from the alcohol streaming in your veins. “Is that enough to make you, you know, mind your business?”
Haruto, Himari, and Ren, who all sat across from you, collectively choked on their drinks, staring at you in utter shock. They all gave you a look that basically screamed, ‘You bitch, at least catch us up!’
“O-Oh,” Emi said, her voice getting quieter while she still feigned a smile, “I’m happy for you both, then. You two make a cute pair.”
“I know we do,” Gojo said, pulling your shoulder closer to his while laughing. His eyes later snapped over to Naoya, who he could tell was trying his hardest to hide his disdain; his eyes were narrowed and his jaw tensed. Not before long, he stood up from his spot and briefly excused himself — reasoning was that he needed some fresh air. Shortly after, Emi followed his trail, and the party resumed like normal.
It was a silent gesture, but you gently squeezed his hands underneath the table as you stared into his eyes; his face still flushed from the earlier commotion — you had been reckless, once again. To your surprise, he squeezed your hand back immediately, only bringing both your hands onto the table, now visible for everyone to see. He gave you a reassuring smile before leaning in to press a soft kiss on your knuckles. The heat on your face only intensified at his display of affection, your cheeks turning scarlet.
“I’m sorry,” you muttered softly, “I did something really reckless, and I didn’t ask you if you were alright with having our relationship out in the open like that.”
“Y/N,” Satoru said, his voice quiet and gentle, “I didn’t ask you out just so I could keep you as a secret. I’ll show you off as much as I want, show everyone that you’re my woman.”
“I swear, Satoru, it’s always you and your words.” You mumbled, covering your flushed face with the palms of your hands.
“You mean voice,” he teased.
“… Shut up.”
Not long after that, perhaps thirty minutes, you bid your goodbyes to your colleagues, leaving the restaurant side by side with Gojo — making a beeline towards the car. Once you both entered, you let all your desires run loose; your lips locked against his, teeth clashing against one another, and heavy breaths filled the tight vicinity. The air quickly grew hot, and the kisses further intensified with fervour.
“W-Wait, Satoru,” you mumbled his name in his lips, your grip on his black dress shirt tightening.
He pulled away, and god, did he look ethereal underneath the moonlight; his white strands shone like silver, his eyes only glowed brighter in the darkness. “What is it, sweets?”
“Let’s not do it here,” you said softly, looking up at him with desperate eyes. “Let’s do it at my place.”
Gojo Satoru never turned his engine on so quickly until now, driving his lamborghini like he was a man on a mission.
The air grew warm the very moment you both stepped into your apartment, lips locked onto each other and arms wrapped around one another. Soft moans left your lips as you could feel the man’s pent up desire grinding against your hips, rubbing deliciously against your clothed heat.
“Your bed,” there was a certain urgency in his voice as he rasped against your lips, and grabbing his large hands, you both rushed to the bedroom. Your back met with the soft plush of the mattress, further sinking in as Satoru also applied his weight, his lips getting a taste of yours for the nth time. His hands instantly pushing up your shirt, his hands traveling up to your your breasts; his fingers sliding underneath the pads of your bra to tweak your little buds. You stifled a soft whimper, your fingers locked in his ivory locks.
Eventually he slid your shirt up, and you helped make go by things faster by unclasping your bra. He took in the moment to appreciate the sight of your nude breasts, a hitched breath leaving his throat while he stared. Eventually, he dove in and showed love to both your mounds; coating your nipples with his saliva as he licked and sucked, leaving a small trail of hickies along your soft skin.
"Satoru," you said his name in a soft murmur, your cheeks warm and scarlet. He hummed in response whilst he continued to play with your tits, his large hands squeezing the soft mounds. In a treacherous pace, he slowly trailed his kisses down your breasts to your lower abdomen. “You’re so cute,” he said in a teasing tone, “you’re already so sensitive to my touch, and I haven’t even started with you.”
He swiftly pulled your skirt down, immediately chuckling at the damped mess you hid in between your legs.
"You're so wet," he mumbled quietly as his arousal immediately went straight towards his dick. He drew a finger across your folds, which were only covered by the thin dampened fabric. With nimble hands, he slid off the fabric off effortlessly, and without wasting time, he inserted two fingers inside -- groaning at how easily he slid in.
He started out the pace with a punishing speed, your toes immediately curling at the sensation as you squealed in unadulterated pleasure. You rolled your eyes back as you drowned in the delightful sensations, arching your back whilst rolling your hips to meet his fingers. It wasn’t until he began to curl his fingers that the volume of your moans began to increase. He pushed your legs farther apart, digging his fingers deeper; eliciting more whimpers and wanton moans that slipped out of your lips effortlessly.
“You close?” He teased you, and you nodded your head frantically in response. He could very well tell how close you were to your orgasm, judging by the way your walls fluttered around his fingers.
“Cum for me then,” he said, and that was all it took for you to succumb to your release, your pussy juices perfectly coating his two fingers. "Good girl," he gave you his praise, his voice deep and heavy.
His fingers parted away from your skin, briefly, before he began to slowly unbutton his midnight dress shirt, revealing his toned muscles and abdomen-- all while staring down at you with a carnal daze. "Like what you see?"
You stared up to meet his eyes, flustered. "Of course, why would I not? You look so... hot. If the word hot and sexy was a person, I feel like it'd be you."
"Is this your way of flirting, cutie?" Gojo said in a teasing tone, his lips curled up into a playful smirk while he unclasped his belt and unzipped his trousers, revealing his boxers and the awfully huge tent that hid beneath the fabric. God, he is so sexy.
"... I'm taking it back now." You said quietly in a stubborn tone.
"You won't," he replied in a matter-of-fact tone, "your mouth is literally drooling for me, and even more so when..."
He dragged his words out while he slowly slipped his boxers off, revealing the angry red tip leaking with his pre-cum. Of course he ended up being right, seeing how you stared at his cock with hearts in your eyes.
"Okay cutie! Get on your knees and ass up."
Gojo loved how easily you complied to his commands -- one second you'd show him a little bit of sass and the next second you were begging for his dick. He grinned at the sight of your ass and back arched, your slick juices dripping off your pussy -- this was all for him, just for him. A loud smack resonated in the room when he slapped your ass and played with it, absolutely loving how it jiggled with every movement his hand made with it.
However, he couldn't wait any longer. He needed you, he wanted you — so, so badly. Rubbing the tip of his cock along your folds, he relished in the sight of your body writhing beneath his grasp; being all desperate and needy for his cock.
It wasn't long before the loud sounds of his cock fucking into your pussy filled the bedroom, your loud moans muffled by the pillows you stuffed your head into. All that you could feel at that moment was pure, unadulterated pleasure; he was hitting all the right spots and his moans were music to your ears.
"Fuck, I've always thought about how I'd fuck you like this." Gojo moaned. "You're gripping onto me so fuckin' tight I might just cum."
A loud cry left your lips when Gojo decided to wrap his arms around you, pulling your body closer to his; his chest pressed firmly against your back as he continued to fuck into you whilst his hand traveled down to your center, lazily rubbing circles on your clit.
"O-Oh—fuck—'Toru —Ahn!" You would moan his name loudly while your body shook under his manipulation.
"Y/N," Gojo said your name breathlessly, all the whilst fucking you dumb on your bed, "be my girlfriend— I want you to be all mine."
"Y-Yes, yes, yes —'Toru," you said in between gasps and moans, "I wanna be all yours. O-Oh fuck, I'm gonna cum — I'm gonna cum--!"
Gojo mumbled a bunch of praises towards you as you rode out your orgasm, your chest rising and sinking as you attempted to control your heavy breaths while he gently rubbed your hips with his thumb. "You're such a good girl," he leaned over to press a soft kiss over the back of your head.
"You still have some energy, right?" He questioned you, and you now found yourself laying underneath the male; your legs both hoisted up on his shoulders. You nodded your head, staring at Gojo with a heavy-lidded gaze, and his eyes were blown with lust and desire. He pressed a soft kiss to your ankle before staring back down at you with a teasing smile.
"Good, because I'm nowhere near done."
(You definitely made sure to keep a mental note to thank Ren for getting you into the app)
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𝐄𝐗𝐓𝐑𝐀 𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄 !
It was a day after your your risqué rendezvous with Gojo Satoru, who you later came to realize was the stranger you engaged sexual activities with over the phone, on HeartChat — the app that no one other than your childhood friend and coworker, Ren, had downloaded on your phone.
“So,” Ren began, wiggling her eyebrows as she pointed at the phone you were holding in your hand. “How was it? It’s fun isn’t it?”
You and Ren were seated on the bench, eating lunch outside during your break. Normally you’d stay indoors, but the following information you were going to share to her were meant for her ears only — since she was the one who recommended this app, after all. Needless to say, Ren was more than thrilled for you to spill the details.
“You never told me that the app was meant for different purposes,” you said, raising a small brow towards your friend.
“I mean, I only use the app to troll around with other men. Nothing too serious, you know?” Ren said before her face quickly dropped. “Unless…? What exactly did you do, Y/N?”
“I…” you began, but you paused. “You better not tell this to another soul, I swear.”
“Riko?”
“Obviously we’ll catch Riko up from this after her honeymoon, but no one else! Promise?”
“You’re making me nervous, Y/N.”
“I had phone sex,” you admitted. Ren’s face immediately turned scarlet, looking at you — shocked. “No way,” she mumbled before she bursted out laughing. “No fucking way. Those type of things only happen in those spicy novels.”
“Oh, you won’t believe what happened next.”
“Okay. I’m all ears.”
“Don’t react loudly, okay?”
“I promise.”
“I had sex with him the next day.”
A choked out "What?!" escaped your friend's lips.
If Ren wasn’t red enough just moments before, then she definitely was now.
“So… are you going to tell me who it is or…?”
“Nah, it’s a secret.”
“... Babe, what other secret could possibly be more shocking than what you just told me?”
So, colour Ren surprised once she added two and two together when you had confessed that you and The Gojo Satoru were seeing each other a week later.
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© 𝟔𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 do not copy, repost, or translate my works on any platform.
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martiniblues · 2 days ago
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JUNO , spencer reid
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pairing boyfriend!spencer x fem!reader
synopsis while babysitting henry for jj, spencer’s seeming disinterest with children starts to shift. this makes your mind wonder into unfamiliar territory you and spencer hadn’t spoken of yet: kids.
genre talks of pregnancy and children (duh), very suggestive towards the end but no smut, this is very self indulgent since i can’t get this song or spencer off my mind so here you go lol.
wc 2k?? (i got a little carried away)
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“sorry for this being so last minute!" jj scrambled, passing henry over to you along with his diaper bag. the blonde ran a hand through her short hair, adjusting from where the two-year-old played with it upon their arrival. 
“it’s all good, seriously. you know how much i love babysitting this cute thing.” you tickled henry’s side, making him squirm. 
jj’s eyes averted to the figure behind you, pursing her lips. “you sure he’s okay with this?” you turned your head, noticing spencer trying to look at the two of you without being noticed. 
it’s not that spencer didn’t like kids; it’s just hard to know how to talk to them when you were a child genius. 
you turned back to jj, attempting to ease her worry. “he’ll come around to it.” you shrugged, knowing that spencer would either sit and observe or fully engage. no in between.
after bidding your goodbyes, you walked over to spencer, taking a seat beside him on the couch. “so what should we do, little man?” you perched henry in your lap, resting your feet on the coffee table so he could sit against your perched thighs. 
spencer looked at you as if he were the “little man” in question. henry just babbled, throwing his arms around as you cooed. “what do we do with him?” spencer asked, leaning closer into your shoulder to inspect the baby in your lap. 
you laughed at his seriousness, turning to look at your boyfriend. “have you never been around a baby in your life or something?” you teased, lifting henry so he was closer to you both.
“did you know that babies are born with about seventy reflexes? that’s why when you place a baby on a surface to stand, they automatically start doing a stepping motion.” he spoke, watching henry kick his legs as you stood him on your lap. you looked over at him quizzically. “for someone who’s so awkward around babies, you sure do know a lot about them.” 
spencer flushed slightly, “i just haven’t had the chance to be around any until now.” he nudges your shoulder before crossing his arms. 
“well, here’s your chance.” you held henry out to spencer, which made him squirm and mumble yet again. “hold him while i go bring his bag in here.” 
he hesitated, looking between you and the baby as if this were a test. yet, despite the nervousness, he reached out, mimicking your position earlier. when you were content with how henry laid on spencer’s legs, you walked out of the room.
you’d be lying if you said you didn’t purposely take your time collecting his things, wanting spencer to have some alone time with henry. finally satisfied with your departure, you peaked your head into the room, nearly melting at the sight. 
the once stiff and nervous spencer you had left with henry was now replaced with a content, smiling one. his voice went up a few pitches as he responded to henry’s nonsense. “oh wow, really?” his lips were pulled into a smile as he played with him, letting henry’s small hand encase his slender fingers. 
you couldn’t help but let your head wander; how could you not? sure you thought about a future with spencer. a future where you were married and maybe with kids, but you had never brought it up being too nervous to scare spencer off.
but now watching him light up with henry in his lap, you wanted nothing more than for your daydreams to become reality. 
“someone wants you back in here, i think.” you snapped out of your daze, focusing on the two sets of eyes staring at you. both holding the same smiles and wide eyes. 
god, you swore you felt your ovaries jump.
“i see that you two are getting along now.” you placed henry’s diaper bag on the table, sitting yourself on the ground before laying out his blanket and a few toys. spencer joined you, placing henry on his stomach, then laid beside you, mirroring the baby’s position. 
“who are you and what did you do with my boyfriend?” you laughed, in awe of how much spencer had adjusted to the small being in just a matter of minutes.
he looked up at you as he shook a little plushie in front of henry’s face. “sorry to disappoint, but this is still your boyfriend,” spencer quipped before you pushed his head jokingly, messing up his hair in the process. 
the sound of high-pitched squeals took both of your attentions away from one another. there henry lay, clapping his hands in favor of you and spencer’s playful fighting. 
“yeah, you like when i show him who’s boss, huh?” you caressed the soft skin of henry’s cheek, making him giggle. spencer sighed, “come on, man, i thought we were really becoming friends” he exasperated, laying his head in his hands dramatically.
this only brought more squeals from the baby, making your cheeks almost grow sore from how hard you were smiling. 
“awe spence, it’s okay.” you egged on your act by petting his hair back into place. this caused your boyfriend to lift his head; a big pout on his lips made yours perk up. 
with your attention being taken away from henry by spencer’s rare expression, you hadn’t noticed the stuffed animal caught between the baby’s hands. before you could do anything, the small bear was chucked into spencer’s face, causing an uproar of noises from henry.
“i’m starting to question this whole babysitting thing.” spencer winced, looking at you as you laughed along with henry. 
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despite the teasing from earlier, spencer continued to be enamored with henry. him even insisting he help feed and change him when time came.
the whole ordeal feeling so domestic, apart of you wished jj could have spent a couple more days for her and will in favor of you seeing spencer like this for longer.
“thank you, again for taking care of him.” jj propped her hip against the counter as she fumbled for her phone out of her purse.
“of course, it really was no problem.” you turned at the sound of spencer’s soft voice, thanking henry for “helping” him clean.
“honestly, i think someone enjoyed this a bit more than we thought.” you gestured at spencer as he settled henry on his hip, the baby grasping onto his button-up shirt. 
your whole body ran hot at sight. spencer looked really good as a pretend dad. 
“no kidding, the team is going to flip when i show them the pictures you took of them.” she glanced at her phone, noting the off-guard photos you stole of spencer and henry. 
one was of him feeding him as he walked around the living room, another of him explaining some of the books organized on his shelves in a very formal fashion despite henry’s lack of knowledge, and finally one of them eye-to-eye playing on the floor with various toys. 
your heart swelled looking back at them, the questions you had been so careful not to ask begging to be verbalized. 
before you could sink any further, spencer came over, handing jj henry and his bag almost reluctantly. noticing the time, jj was quick to leave in order to keep the baby’s sleeping schedule on track but thanked you guys repeatedly before finally closing the door. 
clicking the lock shut, you mentally prepared yourself for the words about to come out of your mouth. 
“you had more fun than you bargained for, didn’t you?” you met spencer on the couch, him reaching out to pull your legs over his, making your heart leap. 
“i did, actually.” spencer began smoothing his hands up and down your calf before continuing. “honestly when you mentioned henry coming over, i was a little- i don’t know scared? i just didn’t want to disappoint him or you.” he bit his lip like he was stopping himself from letting the whole truth out. 
“oh spence, you were perfect. honestly, i’m very proud of you.” you reached out, caressing the side of his face, causing him to look at you. 
he noticed your wondering eyes, waiting for you to continue. “actually i um…” you shifted pulling your legs under yourself so you could sit up. 
breathing in deeply, you continued, “today kind of got me thinking about us and our future.” spencer was looking at you with such admiration that you had fixed your gaze on your hands.
“i know we haven’t really brought it up before, but seeing you and henry today had me-“ 
before you could finish, spencer’s lips were pressed against yours, resulting in a shocked gasp from you. he kissed you, mumbling words each time his lips parted to take yours in again. 
“i want that, i really do.” he breathed, finally separating from you for just a moment. 
“you want what, spence?” you were in shock, to be honest, knowing what he meant but wanting to hear him say it word for word. 
without another word, he positioned you in his lap, legs straddling his own. “i want a family with you. i want a sliver of what we had today to become ours one day.” his eyes didn’t break from yours, his pupils blown wide and sparkly.
for the thousandth time that day, you had to bite back a smile. “you mean that?” you questioned, one hand coming to comb through his hair and the other resting on his neck. 
he kissed your cheek, forehead, nose, and finally your lips before he spoke. “every single one. i mean, one of you is cute.” he cupped your cheek as he spoke. “but two though? that’s something.” he finished, smirking at you. 
you couldn’t contain your happiness, crashing his lips to yours again feverishly. even though you knew the both of you were in no place to have a kid now, there was no harm in playing with the fantasy for now. 
even if the real thing wouldn’t come to be for a good few years.
spencer pulled you flush against him, one his hands leaving your hips to trail up your spine and settle onto the back of your neck. a moan slipped past your lips as goosebumps erupted on your skin. 
you pulled on his shirt, hinting at where this was going as if it weren’t obvious to the man beneath you. he looked up at you, kissing you once more before dragging you to your shared bed. 
your blouse and shorts were off before your back hit the sheets, spencer still standing ahead of you unbuttoning his work shirt. 
you sat up on your knees, crawling to the edge of the bed to take over. after each undone button, you kissed his skin, making him gasp as his fingers raked through your hair. 
pulling his shirt all the way off, you made your way to his pants, pulling him closer by his belt loop. you bit your lip, noticing the gears turning in his head.
“you know statistics say missionary or doggy are the best positions to get pregnant in.” spencer let out in shallow breaths as his belt clinked on the floor. 
“oh, yeah and why is that genius?” you leaned back on your elbows while spencer finished removing himself of his pants. he took you in, the tiny pink bow on your underwear made spencer rethink his crude response. 
“deeper penetration,” he said almost too smoothly, making you laugh. it was hard to take statistics seriously when you were both nearly naked. 
before he could settle above you, you shimmied up the bed. ridding yourself of the rest of your clothes, you positioned yourself on your hands. looking over your shoulder, you saw the way spencer’s eyes widened in shock.
“have you ever tried this one?”
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my first spencer fic omg. lowk crazy because i’ve been obsessed with this man since the ripe age of 12 but here we are. will probably be writing a lot more of him since im rewatching cm at the moment so stay tuned! request box is always open <333
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bunnys-kisses · 3 days ago
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Hi bunny, I'm obsessed with your writing, it's scratching a part of my brain I didn't know could be scratched. Anyway I love it and was wondering if any millionaire shortcake, s'mores, pots de crème and whatever's on the house could be served by Max Verstappen please?
Love <33
bakery menu!!
want to suggest your own order? then check out the menu! i've been slowly getting through the prompts! this has been a fun little one to write! and thank you, thank you for loving my writing. sometimes it's hard to put into my head that people read me work because it's just me in my room haha, so thank you!!
millionaire shortcake: "if they saw you now, you'd be the biggest shame to your family." + s'more: "The accent gets to you, doesn't it?" + pots de crème: "if a picture is worth a thousand words, then i could probably get a million dollars for this photo." + on the house: author's choice! (root beer: filming/recording) served by max vestappen (formula one)!!
tags: smut/pwp, leclerc!reader, motorhome sex, rough sex, filming/recording, dirty talk, clothed sex
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max looked at you from across the paddock, you were happily chatting with one of the mechanics. max knew you were taking engineering in school, after all racing was in your blood. you were the sister of charles leclerc, the only daughter out of four children.
and after a particularly rough weekend, max verstappen, wanted a little revenge. and while he was a little old for childish pranks towards charles. he was old enough to fuck the only leclerc daughter. as you ended up further through the paddock, your curious gaze was trying to find your brother max soon caught up with you.
a possessive arm got around your shoulder and you yelped. but then relaxed when it was just max. you exhaled deeply and smiled softly, an innocent kind of smile, "max! you scared me." you trusted max, you always did!
you had made the assumption in your head that max was going to shepherd you back to your brother. but, instead you were led further away from where he could possibly be. out of ferrari territory and right in red bull's. he guided you with a hand on the small of your back like a lover. his neck craned towards you as if he was going to kiss you.
"where's char, max?" you asked as you held the front of max's shirt. instead he just kissed you on the face.
"we'll wait in the red bull motorhome. you'll be safe there, treasure." he smiled at you. his voice soft, inviting. revenge coursed through him as he brought you up the steps of the home for the weekend.
his hands were on you a little more intimately once you got inside. you stumbled through the doorway and max pressed his clothed erection up against your behind, "the leclerc's pride and joy. the stray from the pack. you became an engineer and you made them proud. but if they saw you now." he flipped up the tennis skirt your wore and he was greeted with simple blue panties, "you'd be the greatest shame to your family." you were loved by your family and you always thought family was important. but, max's words burned in your minds and took nest in a deeper, darker part of you.
letting your brother's rival fuck the day lights out of you.
"max." you swallowed as he firmly grasped your throat. not enough to bruise but enough to keep you still.
"the accent gets you, doesn't it?" he asked lowly as he rubbed up against you. he thought he'd need to give you the princess treatment and give you a bed. but you quickly ended up over the couch. your blouse was unbuttoned and hung off your shoulders and your panties down your soft thighs.
if charles was a devil on the track, then you were the balance of light. an angel that max was going to ruin.
max admired your soaked cunt for a moment as he palmed himself through his jeans. he licked his lips, and said as he got behind you on the couch, "you look good like this. bent over for me. your little private school probably didn't teach you how to be a good slut. good thing i'm here, because i'll teach you everything."
you moaned as max teased your cunt with his fingers for a moment before he licked the wetness off of them. he undid his belt soon after and got his cock out of his pants. he knew he if he was a better man, he would have no grabbed his phone from his pocket and recorded him slotting his heavy cock into your needy little cunt.
he asked, "how does it feel?"
if a picture is worth a thousand words, then he could probably get a million dollars from the photo. the one he took of your cunt taking his cock beautifully. it made him lick his lips as he started to move against you.
his thrusts were strong and quickly he built up the pace. he was only encouraged by your slutty moans. you sounded like you loved cock. and who was max to deny you that. of course he'd fuck your sweet cunt with everything he got! and let filthy words tumble off his tongue as he worked your achy sex.
"i bet you were popular for all the wrong reason. not because of your smarts of your humor. no, you were popular because you gave it up so easily." max knew that wasn't true. you were notoriously monogamous, it was just words that scratched an itch. but don't worry you're little head, with the slice of heaven that max was feeling. he'd happily fuck you any day of the week.
you fueled his lust, simple as that. now it was your job to satisfy it. as his rough jeans rubbed against your behind with rough movements. he made you feel a pleasurable heat all over.
"i bet you knew exactly how to make the boys squirm. you have a pussy that could be called addictive. i was going to fuck you to blow off steam but now... i know why your brothers wanted you away from the track. you're not but a distraction."
you swallowed and felt the surge through your body. your pulse was quickened and your clothes stuck to your sweaty skin. you had no idea what max had planned for the future. you were his now. he wasn't going to give up having sex with you and let someone else have the chance. not lando, or lance, or anyone else. no one else could stake a claim while he was pushed inside of you.
you groaned through a tense jaw as he continued to hit against the right places. he made you shudder and squirm in all the right ways. you clutched onto the couch as he continued to fuck you with a quick thrusts that made you need more.
"fuck, more! please!" your noises were so sweet that max couldn't help but record them as he fucked you. he caught sight of how lovely, simply lovely, you took his cock. you fit perfectly against him.
you were just a little treat as he continued. he knew he wasn't going to last much longer.
"it feels good." you gasped as he fucked you. his pace was quick and near erratic. he fucked you with purpose and it left you seeing stars at every chance. he was obsessed with you and you needed him in return. you knew you were close, you heavily panted against the white leather of the couch while he crammed every inch inside of you. he made sure your sweet cunt was filled to the max with him. his cock hit against you and it made you whine for more.
"you feel amazing, fuck, your pussy is amazing." he shuddered and pushed you further up against the couch. your noises, he gripped onto your hips tightly and bounced you up against his cock.
with a few more thrusts, you arched your back. you came around his cock which only made him move faster. he worked his aching cock into you.
"fuck, max!" you yelped and grasped tightly. you felt the after shudders of orgasm. you sounded beautiful and let him just fuck you with a feverish pace.
max was close behind you. he finished inside of you soon after. a few more heavy thrusts and he was spent. he held onto your hips for a moment longer as he slowed to a stop. he kissed your clothed back and rocked against you a few more times before he pulled out. a beady strain of cum connected you two. just as he liked it.
"how was that?" he asked as he pulled out and got his cock back into his jeans. he felt good as he watched you try to collect yourself.
you replied through heavy pants, "really fucking good."
-
"there you are." you heard your brother's voice as you walked through the paddock with max close by. charles took you by the shoulders and away from max, "where did you go?"
you swallowed as you could feel max's cum against the cotton of your panties. you then chuckled as your brother pulled you in for a tight hug, "i think i just got lost. but! max was here to help me." you looked over to the other man.
charles smiled at his long time rival, "thanks, mate." he had zero clue what max did to you. your brother slapped you on the back lovingly, "let's get back towards our end so we can get ready for dinner." then gave max one last look before you both left.
max eyed your behind as you walked away. he wondered for a moment, which school did you go to and how easily could get there. <3
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em-ontv · 1 day ago
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Need some space — d.w.
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Pairing: Dean Winchester x lover!fem!reader
Summary: Dean could never keep his hands off of you, latching onto you whenever he could
Content: fluff, established relationship, clingy/touch-starved Dean, not proofread, English is not my first language, mistakes should be present, sorry!
Word count: 912
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Dean was a lot of things—sharp-tongued, reckless at times, stupidly brave—but you hadn't expected "clingy boyfriend" to be added to the list.
Yet somehow, here you were, flipping through dusty books with his head in your lap, eyes half-closed like an oversized housecat. He shifted to a more comfortable position on the couch, clearly uninterested in the research you were trying to get through.
"Dean," you sighed, nudging the book away from where it almost brushed against his face. "How am I supposed to read with your giant head in the way?"
"Don't mind me, sweetheart." he mumbled, eyes closing and voice bordering a purr. "You're doing great. Keep it up."
You gave his forehead a flick, earning a dramatic groan. He swatted half-heartedly at your hand but refused to move an inch. Instead, he stretched his legs out further, making himself even more comfortable.
"Seriously? You're not even gonna pretend to help?" you glared at him. "You know, I'd really appreciate it if you started flipping through some books too."
"Helping," he said lazily, cracking one eye open and giving you a smirk. "Emotional support."
Without waiting any further, he reached up, took your hand, and pressed it to his head. Your fingers tangled in his hair instinctively, and he melted under your touch like butter on a hot pan.
When you stopped and started to pull your hand back so you could flip a page of the book, he let out a pathetic whine, pushing your hand back against his head, like he’d die before letting you go.
"You're such a baby. I have to get this done before Sam comes back." you muttered, squishing his face between your fingers, making him pout.
"Cut it out," he grumbled, frowning up at you, though the way his frown dissolved when you laughed said otherwise.
"If you're not gonna help, you're not gonna complain either." you said, and he retaliated by kissing your wrist, peppering soft, warm kisses all the way up your arm.
You rolled your eyes, biting back a smile. Dean's touchy-feely tendencies had only escalated since you started dating. Take the case last week, for example.
You'd been interviewing a witness at a diner, trying to keep your questions subtle and professional. Dean, however, had other ideas.
"So, you're saying the lights flickered just before you heard the noise?" you asked the frazzled waitress.
"Uh-huh," she nodded, glancing nervously between you and Dean.
Before you could respond, his hand found its way to the small of your back. Not a casual graze either—nope—it was a slow, deliberate caress, his fingers curling just enough to make his presence known. You froze, shooting him a warning glance, trying to shrug him off, but he was already leaning in closer, the picture of shamelessness.
"Sweetheart," he murmured, low enough that only you could hear. "You're doing amazing. Keep it up."
"Dean," you hissed through a forced smile. "Go sit down."
"What? I'm just keeping an eye on you," he replied, all wide-eyed innocence, grinning like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
The poor waitress looked like she wanted to crawl into the freezer.
And then there was that time in the library when you'd been deep into research, scanning page after page. Dean had sauntered in, plopped down next to you, and proceeded to rest his chin on your shoulder while humming AC/DC under his breath.
"Keep reading, sweetheart. I’m comfy." he murmured when you tried to shoo him off, knowing he'd just distract you. His arm snaked around your waist, and before you could protest, he was already pressing slow, feather-light kisses along your jaw.
Or the night you snuck into the kitchen for some quiet time with a PB&J. Five minutes later, Dean appeared in the doorway, his hair sticking up in every direction. He looked half-asleep, his brows pinched in sleepy frustration.
"What are you doing?" you asked, mid-bite of a PB&J.
"Couldn't sleep," he said, padding over to you with a frown. "Why'd you leave?"
"Dean, I was gone for five minutes."
He made a noise of dissatisfaction, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind, nuzzling lazily into the crook of your neck. "Come back to bed with me." he muttered, his voice soft and heavy with sleep.
It was ridiculous. The same tough-as-nails hunter who'd taken on demons, monsters, and literal death couldn't go five minutes without missing you. But as much as you teased him for it, it brought a certain warmth to your heart.
Because for all his bravado, Dean was just a guy who'd spent most of his life terrified of losing the people he cared about, loved. His over-the-top clinginess? It was his way of making up for lost time.
"Alright, fine," you said, swallowing the last bite of your sandwich and dusting your hands off.
He grinned—smug at first, but it quickly melted into something far softer. He let out a content hum, nuzzling closer.
"Right now, please." he murmured, his voice heavy with drowsiness.
"Alright, just don't fall asleep on me in the middle of the kitchen." you said, rubbing his arm, leading him back to the comfort of your shared bed.
Under the covers, Dean curled up against you, his arms wrapped around your body, his face buried in your neck. His breath was gentle and even, warm against your skin. Just before sleep took him, he murmured faintly, "Love you, sweetheart."
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mommynott · 3 days ago
Text
Slick Surfaces
Theodore Nott x Reader
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Summary: Your first date with the hockey player ends up back at the ice rink and things seem to get a little slippery, not that you or Theo are complaining. This is my hockey!theo series. If you haven’t already, head over to the first part!
Warnings: 18+, MDNI, SMUT, Chars 18+, modern AU, pro hockey au, hockey!theo, nipple play, teasing, oral, pussy eating, masturbation, mutual orgasm, praising, dirty talk, semi-public, Theo being the munch he is
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"Come on, you'll see…" Theo held a sly grin on his chiseled face, leading you into the empty ice rink. The dim lighting casts a dark and romantic ambiance over the vast space. You two had just finished a dinner date and Theo had surprisingly brought you to the arena. Why are we here?
Following him, a mixture of curiosity and uncertainty lingered within you. "Seriously, why are we here?" You asked through a cute giggle, scanning the space around.
Your voices echoed around the rink, he was leading you up the stairs of the bleachers, the chilliness evoking something between you both. “I’m going to show you…Just how fun hockey can be…” Your heart skipped a beat, was this going to lead to something?
Theo continued walking you toward the top of the bleachers, his smirk growing wider as he guided you onto the highest tier. "See…" His ocean blues met with yours while he gestured towards the ice. "…just the two of us…In the rink…No one around to interrupt us…"
It was obvious Theo was hinting at something more but fuck. You didn’t mind it. Not in the least. The date you two had together was absolutely perfect. Better than you could have even imagined.
“You’re right…just us two…” Whispering back to him, you could hear the sultry tone dripping out with ease. Theo reached out and took your hand in his, lacing his fingers through yours before scooting closer to you.
Not many people would think that a hockey arena could be romantic…sexy… but Theo did. In fact, bringing a girl here and ravishing her was a fantasy he always had. He just had to play his cards right…”You have the most beautiful eyes, Tesoro…” He husked, his face growing closer to yours.
At this point, you swore you could hear your heart pounding in your damn head. “You really think so?” Theo’s gaze flickered between your own, that same sly grin twitching on his lips.
“Oh, I know so…”
A low and deep growl rolled smoothly from his lips. His Italian accent seeming more prominent. But he didn’t hesitate any longer. Theo had been holding off the whole date. —Which was extremely difficult in the first place.
His free hand cupped your cheek roughly before smashing his soft lips to yours. Fuck. “Cazzo- Your lips…so fuckin’ soft.” Murmuring between the kiss, his tongue teased the crease of your lips, practically begging for an entrance.
“F-fuck” The softest little whimpers escaped your throat while the steamy kiss deepened into an intense make-out. Theo’s needy cock was rock fucking hard already, your panties a dampened mess.
Snaking his hand from your cheek, he wrapped it within your silky smooth locks, pressing you closer to him. But the other hand? It remained locked with yours. Feeling his thumb slowly grazing over your soft flesh. “You taste fuckin’ divine, bambina…”
The foreign pet name skated from his lips, both of your breathing getting heavier as the sensual yet rough make-out session only seemed to escalate. Theodore slowly began to lay you back against the cold metal bleacher.
“As do you, Theo…” your voice breathy and light, Theo could already smell the arousal wafting all around you. Only kicking his animalistic instincts into overdrive. His lips sloppily trailed down from your own. Across your cheek…
“Let…”
His hungry kisses fell from your cheek to your jawline. Taking his tongue and dragging it from the end of your lobe all the way down to your chin.
“…Me…”
A shiver ran down your spine, goosebumps pricking down your body as he swiftly dropped his mouth to the side of your neck. Sucking and teasing your sensitive skin. Surely leaving little love bites on his journey.
“…Taste…”
Soft moans were now freely spilling from your swollen lips, tilting your head to the side, giving Theodore better access to you. Your hair sprawled across the grey metal. He licked down to your collarbone, his free hand reaching up to grab one of your breasts, firmly massaging it as he groaned from the feeling.
“…All of you-“
Those dead eyes of his seemed to grow darker by the second, staring up at you as the hand that once locked with yours rubbed up and down your thigh. Waiting for your answer, knowing this could be risky.
“Please…gods- please fucking taste me.” Aching, begging Theo for more, you could see the smirk growing wider on his face. The dim lighting of the rink casting an orange glow across his features.
“That’s my girl.” Those words made your stomach do a backflip. His girl. Fuck. With that, Theodore yanked down your V-neck. Your lace bra on display but he quickly dug your tits right out. His mouth fell all over them, eagerly finding your swollen and perked nipples.
Trying to keep quiet for the low chance someone would walk into the rink at this hour, your back arched while your fingers playfully tugged at his brown waves.
You could feel his tongue flicking one nipple while his fingers twisted and tugged on the other. “Be loud for me, bambina…” He husked against your tits, now letting your moans naturally flow out.
Theo started to do a sucking motion with his mouth, your nipple swelling up as the pleasure began to bubble within you. No words could be made out, simply just taking in all the hockey player had to offer you. His. You were his tonight. And no one would stop him from devouring you. No one.
He sat up for a moment, looking down at the sloppy hickies plastered all over those perfect tits of yours. A prideful yet dangerous grin painted over his face before he took both hands, flapping up your mini skirt. “W-what are you-“
Your words cut off the second Theo softly dragged his pointer finger down your soaked lace panties. “Needy are we?” —God. Fuck yes I am. Your body shuddered beneath him at the tease. Feeling his fingers creeping over the side of the material.
“-Little bit…”
Cooing out, you couldn’t help but softly laugh at your own words. It was clear as day that you were a fucking wet mess for Theo. He clicked his tongue against his teeth, taunting you with his devilish stare.
“Only a little bit….huh, Tesoro?” Smirking down at you, his eyes never left yours. His jaw clenched momentarily just as he ripped your panties to the side so roughly that the material tore, the sound rippling around you both.
Theodore’s gaze dropped to your leaky little slit, glistening on full display for the player. His brows furrowed while his lips parted. Weakly falling to his knees as if he was in a trance from your pussy. —He was.
“Okay…Maybe a lot a bit.” Another seductive giggle freed from you, spreading your legs apart for him. The way he admired you, melted for you, had you going fucking wild.
“Cazzo…You have such a pretty pussy…”
Breathing his thoughts aloud, he let his slick fingers tease down your wet cunt. Seeing just how turned on he had gotten you. The compliment was swirling in your mind, feeling your ego get a major boost from it. “Do I now?”
Bucking your hips toward him, you let your own hands squeeze your breast together, his bottom lip dropping more. “-Fuck yes.” Speaking so quickly, he was aching to taste you. All of you. With ease, he threw his team hoodie right off, handing it to you.
“Here…For your head. want you to be comfortable and relaxed, Bella.” Smirking, he watched as you took the hoodie. His thick cologne still wafting around it. Feeling the apples of your cheeks flush, as dirty and raunchy as this moment was he still had a sweet side. A soft spot for you.
Laying the hoodie underneath your head, Theo nodded in approval. “Thank you, you’re-“ Again, you had gotten cut off, your body going into a euphoric shock.
Slapping your thighs even further apart, Theo immediately buried his face between your legs. Hearing a pleasurable groan mumble through your warmed core. “Fuck!—“ You cried out, feeling his tongue vastly dance around your swollen little bud.
God, he was fucking good. Already so fucking good. “Just as I expected…” Theodore trailed off, swirling his tongue teasingly around your clit purposefully.
“…You taste fucking delectable…deliziosa-“ He growled into your soaked flesh, finally flicking his tongue slowly across your clit. His stare burned up into yours. Watching your every reaction. Hearing those loud moans of yours was giving him all of the confirmation.
Progressively, he licked faster, snaking one of his hands down to his jeans to unzip them, pulling out his throbbing cock. “Fuckin’ Hell…”
The groan that guttered from his lungs, along with his bicep muscle flexing like crazy, you knew he was pleasing himself, getting off to eating you out. “Gods— That’s fuckin’ hot”
Whining out through your loud moans, your hand gripped tighter in his hair. Theo quickly took your other hand in his, interlocking your fingers together as he pressed his face further into you.
“That’s it, Tesoro…Use your words…Tell me how good it feels...How much I turn you on”
Speaking through his laps, his tongue was twisting and swirling in unimaginable ways. Little did you know, Theodore was spelling his name with his tongue. Over and over again. “I-it’s so good! Fuck— You’re so good!”
The sounds of Theo’s hand slapping up and down his massive length were only fueling your arousal. With each praise you gave him, the faster he seemed to go.
“—Mmmm” Theo was absolutely slurping you up, his lips suctioned right around your clit, keeping them parted ever so slightly so his tongue could flick with great speed. Sending your body in a vortex of desire and ecstasy. “Just like that- Fuck, Theo!”
Your moans were now turning into screams, his hand stroking up his precum-covered cock even faster than before. But never once did he remove that darkened ocean gaze from you. Taking you all in.
Sucking a tad bit harder on your little bud, you could feel your legs start to tremble, the pleasure dripping over the edge. But not just for you. For Theo too. “Finish with me, bambina-“ He spoke into your drenched folds, squeezing the hand he was holding as he jerked himself off faster and faster.
“Yes!- Yes!- Fuck!” Throwing your head back, your thighs closed against his head, heaven washing over you.
An earth-shattering orgasm hit you, feeling your wetness squirt out onto Theo’s tongue. At the same exact time, Theo’s groans rumbled against your drenched flesh, his seed spilling out all over his hand while he quivered from his own orgasm.
But he didn’t stop. No. His tongue lapped up your sweet nectar. Drinking all of your delicious juices up as if he had just walked through a desert and was quenching his thirst.
“T-Theo! Fuck— I-I’m so sensitive! Please-“
Your entire body convulsed while he munched down on you, slowing his pace and his tongue moving in longer strokes. A deep chuckle heard from him, he was loving this. The sensitivity he had given you. Reaching his cum covered hand to your mouth, he finally pulled away for a moment.
“Open, Bella.” A demanding tone released as he spoke. You didn’t even think about it. Wrapping your lips around his smeared fingers, tasting his sticky seed.
Watching as you bobbed your head up and down his fingers seductively he could hardly contain it. “Such a good girl…Cazzo…you’re too fuckin’ sexy.” Through a growl, he smacked down a few messy kisses along your thighs. “I can’t believe we just did that…”
You whispered, biting back a giggle, the afterglow starting to hit you as you let out a happy sigh. Theodore was about to reply when suddenly a loud boom of the main doors opening and closing was heard, followed by a few distanced voices.
“Fuck! Come on!” He whispered in a panic while he helped you put yourself together, shoving his cum covered cock back in his pants. Grabbing your hand, Theo led you over to the other side of the bleachers, careful to not get caught by whoever had roamed into the brisk rink.
Both of you getting a rush of adrenaline, but even through that rush, you couldn’t keep your eyes off of him. Even through the anxious feelings. You knew the fun had only just begun.
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Pt.2 hehehehe Theo just LOVES munching on us in every au Istg, @amiableness had the best idea and I love watching it slowly come to life🥹 Next part maaaay contain some locker room fun for a little good luck 👀
Love my smut sluts, as always asks and requests are open💋
Divider pinned in my masterlist🌙
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deathbxnny · 2 days ago
Note
Helloo!! Arcane is ending soon, so I was wondering if I could request the Arcane cast reacting to a reader who suspiciously seems to know everything that’s gonna happen in the plot? They always appear where the action is, and they warn about dangers before they happen, trying to ”subtly” change the outcomes of horrible events. Tragedies are a core element of the story, so I feel that the narrative would create another disaster if one event got prevented, but the thought of these characters being safe and happy after all they’ve been through would be so healing :3 It’s up to you which way you want to take it 🐁💖 I’m fine with both platonic and romantic, but I’d love to see Vi, Jinx and Caitlyn if that’s ok :)
I love love love your writing, reading your HC’s before bed has become an important part of my day and it’s always a joy to see your work pop up in the tags <3 Thank you for letting us read your creations 💖 I can’t wait to read the second part of your Caitlyn fic!!
The Timekeeper. | Vi, Caitlyn, Jinx x Gn!Reader
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I absolutely LOVE this idea, Anon, and I appreciate your request so much!! Also, thank you for your kind words. It really means the world to me reading something so sweet!<33
Content: Angst, can be read as either platonic or romantic tbh, time traveling, fluff, bitter sweet, cursing, spoilers for season 2?, sfw
Reader has no set pronouns.
((Not proofread))
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You were always a mysterious figure to them. One that appeared at the right time in the right place whenever they needed you the most.
You never revealed a thing about yourself. You never even told them your name. But one thing they did know was that you had always looked out for them, like a guardian angel in a way.
And on one fateful day, after another evaded tragedy, they finally caught up to you just before you could leave again.
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》VI
"Who the hell are you?" She asked completely out of breath after having practically chased you down through the dense crowd of the undercity. She had seen you so many times before. So, so many times. And every time she did, you were somehow able to save her from certain death by subtly showing her the right way to survive.
It took her a while to piece together that you must've known the outcome of every situation she had ever been in beforehand. That was the only logical answer to the many questions around your existence she could come up with, but it wasn't enough to satiate her desperate curiosity. There were times she had chosen against your signs, and the consequences ended up being almost grave. So whoever you were, you must've had otherworldly knowledge about everything and everyone.
Because whilst she didn't know a thing about you, you certainly knew everything about her.
Raising your hooded head, you idly played with the pocket watch in your hand, piercing eyes meeting her own. "Does that matter?" You ask, and truthfully, it shouldn't. Who cared about your identity when she knew she could trust you? But that wasn't enough. "Yeah, it does to me. Now tell me who you are already. I... I've been seeing you everywhere for years now. You have always been there and I..." She trailed off, suddenly losing her confidence.
She had thought of this moment for years now, imagined exactly what she would say to you. And yet, ultimately, she found herself speechless in your presence that seemed to drown out everyone else around you two. "I see... but my apologies, we were not supposed to meet yet." You said calmly, seemingly undisturbed by her appearance. "Time and fate... they both are so tightly intertwined and yet also so far apart from each other... how odd that the timeline changed so suddenly again, no?" Your words made zero sense in her mind, but that just added to your mystery.
"What-" "-Are you happy with the way your life is going?" You ask, and that made the woman pause in thought. The answer was positive, of course, but only because you had a strong hand in it once she accepted your help. She thought of Powder back home, who was probably happily tinkering away with the young girl Isha they recently took in, and that made her finally nod. "Yes. All thanks to you." "Not at all. It was you who chose your fate. I only showed you the alternative paths."
You two stood there in silence for a moment before she shoved her hands into her pockets and looked over to a nearby bar she liked to frequent in-between missions. "Let's go grab a drink and talk. It's on me." Deciding to accept this new path the timelines had given you, you accept her invitation with a smile.
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》JINX
"You're terrible at your job." "Am I? I like to pride myself in my good work ethic, actually." Jinx was idly swinging her gun back and forth on her index finger whilst she rested up in the ceiling above you, clearly having followed you around secretly. But she knew that you already knew that from the start.
Scoffing at your words, she jumped down and landed in front of your indifferent figure as she pointed the gun right at you. "Pah! You're a funny one... so what are you? A time traveler?" "Ah, I like the title Timekeeper more." You were aggravating but at the same time a familiar face she had grown to appreciate deeply. You were the reason she was doing well in life now, even if she ignored you for a very, very long time. She thought she knew better despite all the odds pointing against her, especially you. Ultimately, she learned her lesson when she finally just listened to you.
"Ugh... whatever. Can't ya at least tell me your name?" "No." "Man, you're such a pain in the butt!" "Likewise." Rolling her eyes, she lowered her gun and lazily leaned against a wall, arms crossed tightly as she observed the crowds passing by from outside the abandoned building you were in. An admittedly comfortable silence fell between you two, one that relaxed her shoulders and made her sigh in defeat after a while. Your presence was always so comforting.
"So, you let me catch up to you this time. Finally tired of the cat and mouse game we've been playing?" You lowered your head at her question, a sly smile on your face that made her narrow her eyes in interest. "Perhaps. Or maybe I just wanted to ask you how you're doing?" What an odd question, considering the context of your meet-up. And yet, it was somehow fitting coming from you specifically. Wasn't your whole mysterious mission revolving around her well-being anyway?
"Shouldn't you know the answer to that, oh so esteemed 'Timekeeper'?" You found no offense in the mockery of your title. Just pure amusement. "I'm afraid that mind reading was not in the initial job listing." Jinx took a moment to think about your question carefully then, deciding to indulge you despite her better judgment. Things were good now, after all. She, Isha, and Vi were together again as a family, including Vander, even if they had yet to find a way to turn him back properly. But everything was happy otherwise... because you made sure that the end to her story wouldn't be a painfully tragic one.
"... I'm fine. Everything's fine." She muttered, and your smile widened at that answer. "So... I'm not terrible at my job, after all?" Pressing a playful hand to her chin, Jinx acted as though she was in deep thought. "Hmmm... I guess I'll need more convincing than all of this to decide." "Of course... then how about we start with running away before the Enforcers show up to raid this place in approximately... 2 minutes?"
Jinx rolled her eyes again with a grin but agreed to follow you, very much glad to have learned her lesson at your side throughout the years.
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》CAITLYN
She was ignorant towards your judgment from the start, especially as she was able to analyze very quickly that you weren't all you claimed you were. You were too smart, too fast, too aware of everything. It was clear that you already knew how her life story especially would come to an end. But that didn't mean that she'd always listen to you.
Caitlyn believed to know better, even going as far as to protest against your word, which she had learned to be fate itself. And sometimes she'd nearly get away with her life, and on others, you'd be the one to show up just in time to save her. It was embarrassing and at times even near humiliating, but you never judged her, just silently left every time she attempted to confront you.
And this time she had finally succeeded.
Now dressed in a formal uniform, she watched your still form stare out of a window in her estate, as though you weren't practically trespassing. But Caitlyn was used to that. "It's going to rain soon. I wonder if the construction workers will get done with the restoration on time today before the first drops fall." The navy haired woman came to stand next to you, ears finely tuned to your calming voice she had heard in her dreams and mind for so many years. It felt surreal to stand next to you at last.
"You already know the answer... but I think Mother will send out guards soon to retrieve them." Her mother, who had only narrowly escaped her death, if it wasn't for you. She had only gotten a little injured from falling debris, but that was all that happened. All of the councilors and people in the building had survived the Jinx attack. No grave injuries. All because you prevented it by throwing Jinx slightly off balance enough to make her shot not as precise.
"... Thank you." "For what?" The right answer would be absolutely everything, but she refrained, noting that you didn't seem keen on praise. You saw it as your job. As your duty to her for a reason unknown. "For saving my mother." That should do.
You nodded at her words in acknowledgment as your eyes spied Ambessa retreating with her troops in defeat. They were practicing chased away by the council since their help was unwelcome. Served them right for meddling with the business of other nations. You had exposed their ulterior motives in secret, and that's all it took for the tide to turn against them. "Just my duty." "I knew you'd say that... but I want to reward you for all you've done. If it wasn't for you... then I... I don't want to know what I would have become."
You glanced at her with an unreadable look in your eye, and that reconfirmed her suspicions regarding how deep she would have fallen otherwise. It's best not to think of it.
Humming to yourself in thought, you gave her a small smile. "Very well, if you insist... you can treat me to some fine tea and cookies." Caitlyn weakly mirrored your grin, relief filling her senses at you accepting her offer. She was worried you wouldn't. "Of course. Follow me." Linking your arms together carefully, you made your way through the dim halls.
A chuckle left your lips when it indeed began to rain.
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yandere-daydreams · 14 hours ago
Text
Title: Daytrip.
Pairing: Yandere!Illumi x Reader (Hunter x Hunter).
Word Count: 5.6k.
TW: Fem!Reader, Non/Con, Prolonged Captivity, Mentions of Kidnapping, Mentions of Animal Death, Semi-Public Sex, Controlling Behavior, Deliberate Isolation, and Stalking.
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The first thing you saw when you opened your eyes was, per usual, Illumi’s face.
His dark eyes wide and unblinking, his skin bloodlessly pale, his lips pulled into a thin, neutral line – and all of it no more than three inches away. You were too numb to his off-putting proximity to scream, but you flinched back into your pillow on instinct, and Illumi took the hint, lingering for another half second longer before drawing back. A few months ago, you might’ve scrambled away, barricaded yourself in the smallest corner of your lavish bedroom, but now, you only rolled onto your side, regarding him with the same exhausted resignation that you used to pay to your cat, when she woke you up three hours early for no other reason than her own selfish desire not to spend the small hours of the morning alone.
“What’s up?”
It might’ve been a little too casual of a greeting for your kidnapper, but he didn’t seem to mind. “There are clothes waiting for you on your vanity. The butlers will help you dress as soon as possible.”
 So this was going to be an out-of-bed thing, after all. Reluctantly, you started pushing yourself up. “Are we in a hurry for a reason, or…?”
There was a brief moment of consideration, then a resolute nod from Illumi. You let out an inward sigh. “Okay, whatever, that’s my fault. Why are we in a rush, ‘lumi?”
“I have something planned for the two of us.” If you hadn’t known better, you might’ve thought you saw his expression light up. “A daytrip, I believe.” And then, as if as an afterthought, “I’m very excited.”
Illumi’s excitement was normally something you tried to avoid, but your mind seemed to glaze over that and settle on the word ‘daytrip’ instead. Daytrips meant traveling. Daytrips meant activities.
Most pressingly, daytrips meant getting to leave the empty, lifeless, murderer-infested wasteland that was his family’s estate for the first time since he carried you through its gates. You knew better than to say that in as many words, though.
“And for this daytrip, we’ll be going…” You trailed off, gesturing in the direction you felt most strongly would lead back to civilization. “…out there?”
“We’ll be leaving the mountain, yes.”
“And we’ll be going place where other people are?”
“I suppose so, if it can’t be avoided.”
“And your family wasn’t involved with this at all?”
“They don’t think it’s right for you to be given so much freedom so quickly,” he explained. “I disagree. Even well-trained dogs have to be walked.”
For the first time ever, you had to resist the urge to kiss him.
Instead, you only let yourself smile, casting your sheets aside and settling for a brief but bone-crushing hug. “Thank you thank you thank you!” You pulled away abruptly, sliding off of the mattress. “I—I’ll get dressed!”
Illumi didn’t move, didn’t react, but his eyes followed you as you stumbled across the room – happier than you’d been in months.
~
A little less than an hour later, you were spread across Illumi’s lap in the back of a surprisingly conspicuous black car, the divider raised to block a faceless driver from view. It took a concerted amount of effort to keep your attention on anything but the window, but you managed, only sparing the occasional glance towards the passing scenery.
You watched the mountainside spiral downward as Illumi’s hands settled around your waist, measuring the widening gaps between dense patches of forestry as his mouth ghosted over the side of your neck. It’d always surprised you – how tactile he was, how someone so cold could be so fond of peppering feather-light kisses into your collarbones and groping at your thighs. It’d been weeks since the last time you tried to brush off his affection. As far as you were concerned, there were worse things he could do to you than mimic the behavior of a more conventional boyfriend.
(At some point, you’d come to think of Illumi as the unclimbable, unmovable, twenty-foot-tall wall that separated you from freedom. You didn’t like him, sure, but you had to recognize that on your own, you had no chance of getting past, over, or around him. If something happened to render him a little weaker, a little less tall, a little more susceptible to opening his gates, then things might change, but you couldn’t rely on elusive possibilities. The way you saw it, you could either waste your time trying to overcome an insurmountable obstacle, or you could save your energy and try to make things as pleasant on this side of the wall as was humanly possible, given your below-standard working conditions. Until you met someone willing to offer you a ladder, at least.)
He buried his face in the crook of your neck, and your eyes flitted back to the window. You were passing buildings, now – houses and apartments, people dotted in front of them blurred mannequins. “Can you tell me where we’re going, or am I not supposed to know?”
He seemed to think for a second, but answered quickly enough. “Brunch, first,” he said, not bothering to pull away from you. “The rest is a surprise.”
You pursed your lips. You used to like surprises, but Illumi had managed to change a lot of things about you. “Is ‘the rest’ something I’ll like?”
 “It’s something you’ve been known to enjoy.”
It took everything you had not to roll your eyes. You’d been ‘known to enjoy’ a lot of things, most of which Illumi had taken away from you.
There was one more open-mouthed kiss pressed into your collarbone, one more stolen glance of the outside world, and then, the vehicle was easing to a steady halt in front of a rustic, almost quaint building. A café, you realized, as Illumi stepped out in front of you, holding the door open while you stared wide-eyed at the perfectly idyllic, perfectly normal restaurant. The cute type, with a triangular roof and a greenery-laden front porch and chipped paint on either side of the front door.
Subconsciously, some part of you must’ve decided that you’d never see anything more charming or more homey than the lifeless grounds of Illumi’s estate again. You opted not to linger on that, as you stepped out of the car.
The interior was similarly fairytale-esque. There weren’t any other customers or wait-staff, which you’d expected, but string lights hung from the rafters, fresh wildflowers sitting in pitchers on each table. Illumi let you choose where to sit, and you shot for a spot closest to the front windows – bay-style and freshly cleaned, the kind of thing you might’ve stared longingly out of while nursing an overpriced latte for the better part of an hour. Suit-clad butlers stood guard on either side of the door, but if you were lucky, you’d still be able to catch the occasional pedestrian walking by. You would’ve given anything to sit in a room filled to bursting with other people, but since you couldn’t have that, you’d settle for being able to watch a handful from a distance.
“You’re staring.”
“So?” You responded to Illumi without looking away. “You stare at me all the time.”
“That’s different. I have a reason to look at you.”
“Which is?”
“I love you.”
It might’ve been easier to believe if he hadn’t said it with all the warmth and all the affection of a corpse, already given time to cool.
You changed the topic swiftly.
“It’s a little nostalgic, honestly. I used to come to places like this all the time, especially before I made any friends in the city. It was nice to feel lonely in a aloof-and-mysterious kind of way, instead of an anti-social-and-depressed sort of way.”
“Oh, you were never really alone.” You didn’t say anything, but you made the mistake of shifting your gaze onto him, of spurring him forward with the reward of your attention. “It was a guilty pleasure of mine – spending time with you before we met. I preferred it when you sat outside. It was easier to smell your perfume, in the open air.”
You grit your teeth. It wasn’t the most disturbing thing he’d ever admitted, but it definitely made the list. “…I think I would’ve remembered sitting next to someone like you.”
If he’d been more expressive, you could’ve imagined him smirking. “You would think so, wouldn’t you?”
There was a brief lapse, a moment of uncertainty on your part. Finally, you asked, “Did I smell… nice?”
“Very.” Illumi didn’t share your sense of trepidation. “Like cinnamon.”
You hummed, and as if by magic, a waitress appeared from the door to an unseen kitchen – white knuckling her pen with one hand and driving her nails into her notepad with the other. She took your orders with a terrified sort of professionalism, and before you left, you convinced Illumi to give you all the cash he was carrying at the moment (a sum that easily added up to half a year’s worth of rent, handed over without so much as a passing question) and left it on the table for her to find.
~
Your second stop was as surprising as Illumi had promised. If anything, he’d undersold it.
If the quaintness of the café had been enough to throw you into a stupor, then the sheer scale of the building in front of you could’ve sent you to an early grave. A mall – a nice mall, either recently built or nestled so far into the upper-class shopping district that you never would’ve come across it organically, the type with glass where there should’ve been walls and a fountain without any coins at the bottom. You were tempted to try and pester loose change off of one of the butlers flanking you, but decided against it. The café, you could’ve stumbled into on your own, without Illumi’s intervention. It just didn’t feel right to leave a mark where you so obviously didn’t belong.
More similarly to the café, though, the inside of the shopping complex was startlingly empty. Butlers and hired security were posed in front of exits, but other than that, it wasn’t hard to believe that you and Illumi were the only people on the property. As soon as you were past the initial entryway, you ducked into the closest store – a high-end cosmetics retailer. The door was unlocked, but there was no cashier at the register. Like someone had already come through and cleared it out.
“This is some backrooms shit,” you mumbled to yourself, and then, to Illumi, ever-hovering just over your shoulder. “You didn’t… you know, do what you normally do to people you don’t like, right?”
“Are you asking me if I killed everyone in this shopping complex prior to our arrival?”
“Well, not everyone,” you clarified. “Maybe just the employees?”
He didn’t laugh, but the corner of his mouth turned ever-so-slightly upward, as if you’d said something funny. “No, that would’ve taken far too much time.” The unnecessary loss of life went unacknowledged. “The building’s rented out, and the stock’s been purchased in advance. You’re only deciding what you’d like to keep.”
Huh.
One day, you were going to sit him down and have a long, long talk about class privilege and resource waste. If you were feeling generous, you might even throw generational wealth onto the lecture, just to make sure he got the full picture.
One day, but not today.
“The third floor always has the best stores,” you said, turning on your heel and grabbing Illumi’s hand, too distracted to think anything of the gesture. “Let’s start there.”
You weaved in and out of stores with reckless abandon, hyper-aware that you had no one’s time to waste but your own. Essentials were overlooked entirely, makeup and self-care supplies limited to eyeshadow pallets with no less than several dozen eye bleeding colors and bath-bombs that were more glitter than pigment, and clothes made up the bulk of your adoration. Everything that wasn’t in your size had already been removed – something as worrying as it was convenient. The only thing you refused to try on was loungewear. It would’ve been practical, sure, but you didn’t need to be reminded that this was likely the last time you’d ever leave Illumi’s sprawling home.
“You know,” you called from a dressing room, pulling a gingham dress over your head. You couldn’t see Illumi, but you were sure he wasn’t far. He didn’t seem to have much of an interest in shopping, but his favorite hobby was looming over your shoulder like some blank-eyed, haphazardly domesticated bird of prey, so it balanced out. “If this had been our first date, I probably would’ve married you.
You heard him hum as a weight settled against the dressing room door. “I enjoyed our first date. It was endearing – how long you rested your head in my lap.”
“Well, yeah. The paralytics you used were so strong, I couldn’t move for three days.” You’d still lose feeling in your left arm, if you held it at the wrong angle. It reminded you a little of your cat, after she first came around to the idea of sitting in your lap. You’d been so afraid of scaring her off, you’d let your legs fall asleep before you so much as thought about moving her. “I just meant that the whole ‘kidnapping’ thing probably wouldn’t have been necessary, y’know? I wasn’t exactly in a place to be picky when it came to creepy rich men.”
There was a brief lapse of silence, and you finally managed to drag the bodice of the dress into place. “I never considered that.”
It shouldn’t have surprised you to hear that Illumi wasn’t the dating type, and yet, you let out a breath of a laugh. “You never thought about asking me out? Not even once?”
“…no, I didn’t.” If you hadn’t known better, you would’ve thought he sounded shy. “It was hard to be practical. I was distracted. You were perfect, and contained, and I thought touching you would be—” For the first time, his voice seemed to dip, to grow just a little quieter. “—vulgar. It would’ve changed you, to know I was there.”
The skirt was layered, and you bit back the urge to curse as you smoothed over the layers of cotton and lace. “I think being abducted might’ve changed me, too.”
“It was the better option. Something would’ve fallen out of place eventually, but like this, I could save you. Only your environment had to be altered.”
He made it sound like he’d sealed you behind glass, rather than underneath a mansion occupied by the world’s most dangerous killers. You’d known better than to hope he’d be able to come up with a selfless reason for your prolonged captivity, but still. Hearing that you were miserable because he needed a ballerina to decorate his music box with stung more than you would’ve liked to admit.
“…it’s unlocked. You can come in, if you want.” Immediately, you heard the dressing room door creak open, and turned your attention towards your reflection. Out of the countless you’d tried on, there was a reason you’d saved this dress for last. You used to fantasize about being able to afford something so wonderfully needless, something you wouldn’t have had to justify with things as joyless as ‘function’ and ‘practicality’. Even now, the puffiness of the sleeves and the lace detailing around the collar and the tiny, almost impossible-to-see hearts printed onto the checked pattern felt exorbitant – borderline garish. You still didn’t have any reason to wear it, any place you could’ve gone to show it off, but then again, you didn’t have much of a reason to do much of anything when you were with Illumi. You guessed, in a roundabout kind of way, that meant you got to do whatever you wanted to.
Illumi came to stand behind you, and you leaned back, kissing his cheek gingerly. “I’ll add it to the pile. Thanks for this, ‘lumi.”
His hands found their way to your hips, settling there as he rested his chin on your shoulder. “Keep it on. It suits you.”
You tried to laugh, but fell short – your smile falling into something more strained. You really shouldn’t have said anything, but you were talking before you could stop yourself, before you could think better of it. “The cinnamon,” you started, speaking against the dryness in your throat. “When I first moved to the city, the only apartment I could afford was flat above a bakery. The ventilation was awful, and the landlord was impossible to get a hold of, and everything I owned smelled like sugar and cinnamon and bread. I couldn’t touch anything sweet for months, after I moved out.”
It was all you could do to bite down on your tongue and force yourself to stop, to shut up, to remember who you were talking to. Illumi’s response was less dramatic – as instantaneous as it was muted.
“How fitting,” he said, with a chime of a laugh. “Sweet things belong in sweet places.”
You could only be mad at yourself, really. What else were expecting? It wasn’t like he was going to get down on his knees and apologize, for fuck’s sake.
You sighed, melting into Illumi’s chest. Of course, he welcomed you with open arms.
~
You didn’t end up keeping any other dresses. A few other articles of clothing, a couple pairs of shoes, a small fortune’s worth of little luxuries that’d help you pass the time when you were returned, kicking and screaming, to solitary confinement, but no dresses. Well, aside from the one you were wearing, of course.
It wasn’t long before Illumi started gently ushering you to the nearest exit, and already thoroughly defeated, you didn’t try to resist. You only got distracted once on your way out, and not for very long. Illumi made sure of that.
It was kiosk-type stand – the glass cabinets filled with high-end pet toys and animal-themed tchotchkes. You couldn’t stop yourself, gasping as you broke away from Illumi and darted to the first thing that caught your eye: a bright pink collar with silver spikes, adorable and cliché and so, so cute. It was clearly meant for a dog, but it could’ve fit a cat. Or, you probably would’ve tried to make it fit a cat, rather.  
Illumi appeared at your side, as always, and you started talking without looking up. “I’m sorry, I know we’re in a rush, but it just—” You paused, trying and failing to bite back a smile. “I had this cat before you took me – her name was Ghost. She used to be the neighborhood stray, but she was getting pretty old, and I think other cats were picking on her. Eventually, I just started letting her in, and after a while, she stopped leaving. She would’ve hated something like this.” You held up the collar, gesturing dismissively before forcing yourself to set it back down. “She never really liked me. Whoever took her in shouldn’t have had too much trouble winning her over, after I disappeared.”
“Ghost,” he repeated. “Was she a black cat?”
“Yeah, that’s where her name came from. I couldn’t see her at all at night, and she could knock over anything that wasn’t nailed down. It was like living with a poltergeist.”
“She’s dead.”
You felt something small and vital tear open and start to bleed. “…excuse me?”
“You two were quite close. Had she been given the time, she would’ve woken you up the night I came to get you. I didn’t want that.” It took an embarrassing amount of time for you to make the connection, to form the link, to realize why the pain in your chest was quickly becoming so unbearable. “We can get another, if you’re upset. As a couple.”
The shock was numb, if there was any shock to be had at all. “It’s fine,” you managed, eventually, and despite the strain behind your voice, Illumi didn’t argue.
Instead, he glanced towards the nearest glass wall, to where the sun was just beginning to set over the horizon. “We should go.”
“I didn’t realize we were on a schedule.”
“You weren’t supposed to. I told you earlier – the last stop is a surprise.” This time, he was the one to take your hand, squeezing gently as he laced his fingers with yours.
It might’ve been a nice gesture, if his touch hadn’t been cold enough to burn.
~
You weren’t really sure what the third and final stop was supposed to be, at first.
An old sort of a dream knotted and coiled in your chest as his driver ferried you out of the city, metropolis shuttering into mountain backwoods. You’d never really been afraid of Illumi killing you (not when there were so many things that were so, so much worse than death), but as the car eased to a stop on the side of single-lane road, it was hard to imagine why else he would’ve taken you so far from the nearest scrap of civilization, another reason for him to wear such a bright expression as he ushered you outside - the most impatient he’d been all day. It wasn’t until you saw the trailhead – unmarked save for a wooden post and break in the foliage – that you started to relax.
“Oh,” you mumbled, your relief audible. “I’m not really dressed for hiking, ‘lumi.”
“It isn’t far.” And then, taking your hand in his, “I can carry you.”
It sounded more like a matter-of-fact statement than an offer, but you shook your head, edging forward. He was right, in the end. It couldn’t have been more than half a mile of level ground, Illumi holding your hand all the while. It wasn’t like you weren’t allowed outside on Illumi’s estate, but you spent so much time in the woods that surrounded his mansion and his mother’s gardens – it would’ve been impossible not to go numb to the absence of bird song, the treacherous slope of his mountain, how little sunlight managed to break through the dense canopy of tangled branches and leaves that seemed to lie a little closer to black than green. It was nice to be somewhere else, somewhere with humming insects and a gentleness to the landscape and just enough dappled sunlight to make you forget who you were with. You kept your head on a swivel, quietly eager to soak in as much of it as you could. If you were lucky, you’d actually get to see some life – a deer, or a wildcat, or—
Something caught in your throat, and your head lulled forward, eyes dropping to your feet. You stared at the ground for the rest of the walk.
Your destination was, similarly, storybook levels of idyllic. The forest thinned and fell away entirely, breaking into a lake that stretched on as far as the eye could see and glittered pink in the light of the setting sun. Stretched over the lake’s shore was a blanket piled with platters of chocolate-covered fruit, breads and cheese, bottles of wine with a matching pair of glasses for each option – everything you might’ve once drunkenly listed off to a friend while fantasizing about your perfect, fairytale date. You glanced around you, looking for the butlers who must’ve only just finished setting up, but Illumi was quick to call your attention back to him. You felt him let go of your hand, your body shift before you could process why you were moving, and then, you were no longer on the ground; one of Illumi’s arms hooked under your knees and the other behind your back, your side pulled against his chest in an effortless bridal carry. You made a passing attempt to squirm, but Illumi didn’t seem to mind – keeping you tucked against him as he made his way to the only unoccupied corner of the blanket and all-but dropped to the ground, leaving you splayed across his lap and safely caged within his arms.  It was hard to tell if he was trying to be romantic in his own, blank, heartless sort of way, or if he’d simply decided you weren’t moving quickly enough. For your own sake, you leaned towards the former.
“It’s awful,” you muttered, and then, correcting yourself, “Not the picnic, I mean – that’s perfect. It’s just, I can never tell what you’re thinking.”
He seemed to consider that, for a moment. A chocolate-covered strawberry was plucked out of the nearest bowl and held to your lips, and to appease him, you bit into it. Your throat still felt too knotted for you to actually enjoy eating, but it was good to keep Illumi happy. “Most of the time, I think about you,” he admitted, any hint of shame absent from his voice. “It’s an issue. It doesn’t affect my work, but it’ll start to if left unchecked.”
He thought about you while cutting down innocent civilians. Great. “And you’re not going to fix that by drowning me in a lake, right?”
“No, I’m not.” Like your question, his answer was too sincere for comfort. The way his free hand toyed with the hem of your skirt did little to ease your nerves, either. “I’ve tried keeping an amount of distance between you and I, but that hasn’t yielded much progress either.”
If he’d ever tried to keep himself away from you, you hadn’t been able to tell. His hand slipped under your skirt properly, and you twisted, reaching for the neared wine bottle. “There’s so much food here, we should really—”
“It can wait.”
It was awful, just how even his voice was. For the first time, you were tempted to give him a reason to raise it.
You’d never resisted Illumi, but he’d never tried to—tried to do this, either. There’d always been an unspoken barrier when it came to sex – your resounding horror shadowed comfortable within his apparent disinterest. Now, though, he didn’t seem very disinterested, and your lingering terror was brushed neatly to the side as his fingers grazed over your thighs, your hip, before slipping underneath the thin, silken fabric. You wanted to thrash, to bolt, but you were suddenly unable to move; paralyzed save for the reflex to clench your legs shut and sink that much deeper into Illumi’s chest. The former was undone with only as much effort as it took him to ease your thighs apart with his knee, though, and the latter only seemed to bring a soft smile to his lips – just barely prominent enough to feel as he nuzzled into the crook of your neck. If you’d been in your right mind, you might’ve thought to look for his butlers, to worry about passing hikers or concerned locals he wouldn’t think not to hurt, but Illumi had done his job well. It was impossible not to consider yourself wholly and entirely alone in the world, when you were with him.
He was less clinical than you would’ve expected. Illumi did most things with surgical precision, but touching you seemed to call for a more experimental skillset. His chin came to rest on your shoulder as his long fingers spread and explored underneath your panties, the tautness of the fabric ensuring that he always moved against you, rather than over or around. Undressing you never seemed to cross his mind; instead, his attention was trained on dragging the pad of his thumb over your clit, on using his ring and middle fingers to trace the slit of your cunt. You weren’t turned on – who could be, with their stoic kidnapper fondling them like a child learning to handle their first doll? – but your body and your mind were on two different tracks, one eager to make the best of a bad situation and the other too distraught to stop it. It wasn’t long before you could feel yourself dripping around him, your arousal adding a damp heat to your already claustrophobic point of connection. Illumi hummed. “You’re sensitive.”
You opened your mouth, but anything you might’ve said was drowned out by a hitched gasp as he thrust two digits inside of you with a wet click. “Tight, too,” he muttered, almost absentmindedly, immediately falling into a pattern of pumping and scissoring; spreading you open and pulling back only to fuck his fingers that much deeper. When he paused, it was only to curl against something particularly sensitive inside of you, to leave you shrinking that much further into his chest. “Is this uncomfortable?”
The practicality of the question caught you off-guard. You couldn’t call it considerate, but it was more than you’d expected, more than you ever would’ve hoped for. Unable to speak, you nodded furiously, and Illumi clicked his tongue. “You’ll be alright,” And then, slightly softer, “It couldn’t be any worse than what I had to deal with, waiting for you.”
There was no bitterness, no remorse, no pity; just Illumi’s cold rationality and the feeling of his palm grinding into your clit. The only warmth you could feel was the ghost of his breath on the side of your throat, the dip of your shoulder – not quite panting, but a world apart from his usual absence of expression. You tried to steel yourself, to think about anything aside from Illumi’s presence where it draped across you like a funeral shroud, but it’d been months since the last time you so much as thought about touching yourself, and for all his apathy, you could feel heat pooling in your core and recognize that your attempts to stave off the inevitable were only prolonging the insufferable. Still, it would’ve been impossible not to try and choke back your whimpers as that heat brewed and solidified into something more tense, something more breakable; as Illumi’s cheek pressed into the curve of your neck and his fingers curled against something soft and unprotected inside of you. Your climax was drawn out of you slowly, painfully, with a ragged whine in place of a moan. You kept your face buried in Illumi’s chest, your hands balled around the bodice of your dress. It felt like an eternity passed before it was over, before Illumi’s hand drew back, but no relief accompanied the distance.
You couldn’t even bring yourself to hate Illumi for it, not really. You couldn’t bring yourself to feel much of anything. The only thing you could think, as hard as you tried not to think at all, was that you missed your dead cat.
It was pathetic, honestly. A sob tore past your lips as he pulled you away from his chest and lowered you onto your back, tears burning twin tracks down your face. You couldn’t remember the last time he’d made you cry, and this shouldn’t have been your tipping point – not Ghost, not your awful shoebox apartment, not the fact that you could hear fabric tearing as he pulled your dress apart, too impatient to so much as consider a less destructive solution. You were in hysterics by the time he glanced up, the faintest possible frown coaxing the corners of his lips downward. “You’re crying.” And then, when your only response was another jagged cry, “Why?”
You opened your mouth, but only managed to force out another incoherent sob. Illumi softened, leaning over you, his dark hair forming a curtain that seemed to replace the rest of the world with unending void. Eventually, you managed to scrap up the only thing you could, even if it wasn’t what you really meant. “I—I want to go home, Illumi.”
He cocked his head to the side, staring down at you with a sort of blank focus. A moment passed, then another, before his expression brightened. “Oh.”
He leaned down, and you felt his lips brush over your forehead. His smile bit into your skin like a blade.
“We will, love.” He pulled back. You heard fabric shift, felt something hot and terrible slot against your cunt. “Just not yet.”
 You moved to respond, but gave up quickly. His mouth crashed into yours as he thrust into you and your blood ran cold.
~
Later on, in the dark, things became bearable again. Illumi was cruel, psychotic, delusional, but he was dutiful, too, and with the most beautiful dress you’d ever seen reduced to scraps, he wrapped you in his jacket and gathered you in his arms. The picnic was untouched, the breath-taking view painted over by night. None of it mattered, of course. You were too exhausted to keep your eyes open, and a bottomless pit occupied the space your stomach used to. You wouldn’t mind going the rest of your life without taking anything of the filthy, unfeeling outside world inside of you ever again, but you knew better than to swear off eating because of Illumi. Or, at least, you hoped you’d know better in the morning.
You were only half-conscious of him pulling you against his chest and starting back into the forest, following the same path you had an eternity ago. It was a stupid question, but you found yourself asking anyway, your voice low and hoarse. “Are we… Are we going somewhere?”
“Of course.” Illumi bowed his head, kissing the top of yours. “We’re going home.”
He didn’t know he was lying, but he was. He might’ve been, but you weren’t.
Slowly and with no small amount of effort, you managed to nod, slumping against his chest. No sooner had you went slack in his arms than the final tether to consciousness thinned and fell away, leaving you to be consumed by the darkness.
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kupa-konstruct · 1 day ago
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Again and again and again, I try to show my parents the records of this damned cat but now they almost seem annoyed with me, more like frustrated.
And now, the more and more I push for information, the more and more IT starts to follow me.
It was small at first, I almost didn't notice until it started to get bolder, the damn fuzzy thing. It would slowly follow me everywhere. The slow trot of its paw pads against the floor behind me as I moved from room to room as if trying to keep me in its sight.
At times, it would linger around my parents, as if to not cause suspicion but now, there was no mistaking it. It was following me.
Its eyes always focused on me as if trying to see my very soul through my flesh and now, at times, just looking at the damn cat made me feel a bit nauseous so now, it was time for plan b.
If I can't just walk away from the cat, I'll get my parents to deal with it for me.
On a convenient day, I do my best to fake up some cat allergy symptoms along with the nausea I sometimes feel around the cat in hopes that my parents would get me out of the house for a few hours, thankfully it worked and I was soon in the car watching the cat glaring at me from the patio window.
I said nothing as I glared back while the car drove off to our family doctor.
While being examined, I was told I actually might have a slight allergic reaction to cats with my nausea still persisting through out my examination but the doctors wanted to just double check. I gave them an understanding nod before the left the exam room with me alone inside.
The room now fell silent with only the ticking of the wall clock to keep me company until suddenly, the nausea gets worse.
I almost double over trying to reach the sink in time before-
"Oh come now. We both know that's not really enough to make you vomit."
The voice seems to pierce though the air straight to my mind while also lingering on my ears as the nauseous feeling seems to subside a bit.
I look over my shoulder, already anticipating who, or rather what could have been talking to me. And just as I suspected-
"Come. Have a seat. We have much to discuss."
It was that damn cat.
Your grandparent passes and your parents inherit the palatial estate as well as the care for its cat. After going through several family records you realize the cat has been inherited throughout the generations. You try telling others but they forget. Now it keeps trying to be alone with you.
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auroracalisto · 2 days ago
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with all the power in oz
movie!fiyero x gn!reader, 2.2k words summary: the reader, rather anxious and studious, finds their self head-over-heels with none other than fiyero, supposed boyfriend to galinda upland. to placate this, they somewhat agree to meet him at the ozdust ballroom. a/n: YOU pronouns are used to address the reader, but there is no usage of y/n. just watched the movie today. tried to find a fic, couldn't. here I am writing one instead. reader worries a lot. so me. you're welcome. also, I'm going into this blind. I have unfortunately never seen the actual musical (downsides to living in the middle of nowhere) so I'm only going off based on wikis and the movie. it should be gn as I read through it like... five different times, but please let me know if I missed something!
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Breathtaking. That's what he was. But could you truly refer to a man like him as breathtaking?
The very features that graced his face were absolutely mesmerizing, and you felt like a fool watching him at times. How could you not? He seemed so full of life, so full of... well, not a care in the world, really. It was as if he brushed everything off of his shoulders without hesitation.
You could only wished you were the same way.
No cares, no worries. How lovely that would have been.
No, you hold onto the things that happen to you as if you have no other way to live. You hold grudges, you think over things that happened years ago that no one could possibly remember.
For someone who wished to be a sorcerer, you had a hard time simply letting things go. Your emotions often got the better of you, even when you knew better. Even when you wished it could be the opposite. But perhaps that was the way of the world.
Not a man in Oz could tell you otherwise.
Books in hands, you crossed the path to your dormitory, brows cinched together in mild concentration.
You had a project in your history class, and an extensive paper to complete on the study of mathematics—of all the things you could have had, a paper in mathematics. You'd rather perform magic in front of the entire student body, but you couldn't.
As you walked, you heard your name come from behind you. Eyes flicker back, a soft frown on your lips. You see him—Fiyero. The one fool you meant to avoid with all the gumption within you.
You'd melt just being near him.
"Fiyero," you softly greet.
He gave you a charming smile, coming up to walk with you. "Heading back already?" he asked.
"I am."
"Working on the project, hm? We could work on it together if you'd like. I'm sure our minds could do wonders," he said, a playful wink coming from him.
"I'm fine," you simply said.
He blinked slowly, but his smile never wavered. "Come now," he said, your name leaving his lips rather sweetly. "Surely you're not going to spend the rest of your evening alone. Why don't you come to Ozdust tonight?"
You looked back at him, frowning. "Ozdust. Me. I don't think so, Fiyero."
"And why not? I'm sure you'd be as dashing as ever."
You stopped in your steps, eyes searching his for but a moment. "Dashing. Are you in earnest, Fiyero?"
"Yes," he said, smiling.
"And what of Galinda? You'll be with her. Why invite me?"
"She doesn't need to know. It's not her business," he said. "Besides, she will be busy with Elphaba. I'd much rather spend time with you."
"And I think you're just pulling my leg," you said defensively. You crossed your arms over your chest, careful to keep your books close.
"Pulling your leg? I haven't even touched you," he said, a cheeky grin on his lips. "Come now, don't play coy. You should come."
"And if I do?"
"Then I'll be quite happy."
You rolled your eyes and went to walk away.
A hand wrapped around your bicep, and you paused, glancing over your shoulder at him.
His eyes widened a bit and he dropped his hand, albeit hesitantly. Perhaps he didn't think he would actually reach out to you. He cleared his throat.
"I really would like you to be there. You'll have the time of your life."
"The time of my life," you repeated. "I don't think you realize how much I dread parties."
"Have you ever been to one?"
"No."
"Then how do you know you dread them?"
"I just know," you said. "I feel it in my bones. I know going will just get on my nerves."
He scoffed, placing his hands on his hips. "I think you're foolish for that," he said. "Come on. What are you losing? A couple hours to work on a project that you know you could finish in a morning session? You'll be fine. Come to the Ozdust tonight. I'll show you a good time."
You clenched your jaw. "I don't want—"
"—I would like you to be there. That is all. I won't ask again." He gave you another small smile before he looked away. "I'll see you around. Perhaps tonight?"
You stared him down. He would like to see you there? Was he being honest? And what of Galinda? Would he be going behind her back? Wasn't he madly in love with her, or something? Or was it the other way around?
He said your name once more, and you looked up at him, letting out a soft sigh.
"Right. Perhaps tonight," you softly said.
The smile on his lips was rather... hopeful than anything else. There wasn't anything smarmy by it. He seemed as genuine as the glint in his eye—the one he used when he spoke with anyone he trusted. At least, you hoped so.
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The night came quickly as you finished up your outfit—one you would hope you didn't look completely foolish in. The color you chose seemed to fit well with almost anything, but you still worried. You always worried about something.
Time was of the essence. You weren't even supposed to leave Shiz University's campus, but here you were, sneaking like some scoundrel.
Well, perhaps you were, listening to the requests of a man who already had a girlfriend—a fantastically beautiful one at that.
But you paid no mind. You did what you could, and soon, you found yourself walking down the steps of the Ozdust Ballroom.
Never had you been in a place like this. It was almost... breathtaking, had it not been for the overpowering smells of perfume and some kind of drink wafting from the bar. Your eyes flitted from patron to patron until you finally spotted him—Fiyero.
He looked just as handsome as ever.
Good Oz, what in the world were you doing? This was foolish.
You took a step back, staring at Fiyero for a moment as he spoke with another man, drink in hand. You needed to leave. This was ridiculous. You were ridiculous! Never in a thousand years would you ever imagine yourself to do such a thing—
"You made it!"
Fiyero's voice rang out above the music.
You look to him, eyebrows furrowed in frustration. Because of course he saw you as soon as you had decided to leave.
Fiyero smiled and made his way to you, taking your hands in his, drink left with the confused man behind him. Surely he didn't just up and leave in the middle of his conversation.
You part your lips and go to speak, but to your dismay, Fiyero is instant.
"I was afraid you had changed your mind," he said. "You look ravishing, darling."
Your eyes widened. Ravishing? You'd been called many things in your life, but never ravishing.
"Galinda couldn't make it?" you asked.
"Wha—no, she couldn't. But what of it? I didn't ask her to the Ozdust, I asked you. I'm glad to see your face."
Warmth blossomed in your cheeks as you watched him. "Fiyero, please... I shouldn't be here."
"Oh, nonsense," he said, grinning all the while. "Come. Dance with me."
"But I don't—"
"—do not say you don't dance. I can teach you."
"Teach me?"
"It's as easy as breathing," he said.
"For you, maybe, but not for—"
"—humor me," he said, smiling.
You pursed your lips. Of course he had to give you that charming smile and the sweet bat of his eyelashes.
"I do not dance," you repeated.
"I think I will be the judge of that."
He grabbed your hands once more and pulled you out into the ballroom floor, smiling all the while.
"You'll be a natural. I can just see it."
"I feel like if I were a natural, you wouldn't have to teach me," you said, gasping as he pulled you close to his chest. His face was dangerously close to yours, his eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips.
"You know," he began, eyes flickering back to your eyes. "We all start somewhere, do we not? You should know that better than anyone."
"What? What does that—"
He interrupted you by spinning you by your arm, back into his embrace. The music was rather ambient, not quite one for dancing so enthusiastically, but Fiyero embraced it. Hand to your hand, face close to your face.
"See? A natural."
"You merely spun me around, Fiyero. Do not be foolish."
"You could have fell flat on your face," he said, a boyish grin evident on his lips.
"Stop looking at me like that," you defiantly said. "You are far too close to me for my liking."
"Oh, feisty, are we?" he asked, moving his body along to the music and forcing you to go along, too. You nearly stepped on his toes several times. "I do not think there is anything wrong with the way I'm looking at you. You're rather breathtaking, if I may."
Breathtaking. The same way you had described him only hours before. He wasn't a mind reader, was he?
No.
Of course not. That was foolish. He was merely a man. Nothing of great importance—no power within him other than the power he held in every single eyelash as they batted down at you, making you melt over and over again.
"What of Galinda?" you repeated.
"What of her?"
"You shouldn't be calling someone who isn't yours breathtaking. It's quite..."
"There is nothing wrong with admiring the beauty in front of me," he said, your name playfully leaving his tongue. "Look at me. Galinda and I are only friends."
You rolled your eyes. "Do not lie to me."
His eyes widened a bit. "Lie? I do not lie. We are friends and nothing more. Though I do believe she thinks differently..."
"She must," you said, huffing softly.
"But that does not make it true. I have eyes for someone else."
"Eyes for someone else?"
He tilted his head once more. He was rather endearing when he did that.
"Who did I ask to their very first party?" he asked, smiling. "It's quite a feat, isn't it? Afraid you wouldn't show, and then you do, questioning me and everything I stand for, hm?"
Warmth found its way to your cheeks once more. You looked away from him. With the crescendo of the music, Fiyero pulled you closer, fingers lacing with yours. His lips hover dangerously close to yours.
"You know, if you would just give it a chance, perhaps you and I could make some magic of our own."
You let out a curt laugh. "You—oh, good Oz, I hope you never use that line on anyone! Has that worked for you before?"
He gave a cheeky smile. "It seems like it's working on you."
"Absolutely not!"
"Not even a little!"
"No!"
His smile only seemed to grow. "Truly?"
You looked away, swallowing thickly. "I mean... no. Not even a little. Not at all."
"You're lying," he said.
"I am not."
"I do think I know what I'm talking about," he said, leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to the soft skin of your cheek. "Come now," he said. "Stop with the lies."
You looked up at him, a soft huff escaping you.
"Fine. I lied. It may or may not be working. But it's not just because of what you said."
"Oh? Are you saying you like me for more than my suave words?"
"Suave words? Who in Oz said they were suave?"
He just smiled, his eyes flickering to your lips once more. "Do you think instead of just a dance, I could try something more?"
"Try what?"
"I think you know."
You blinked slowly at him, your fingers gently gripping onto his tunic. Your lips part in mild surprise, but you realize that you shouldn't have been. He'd been eyeing you the entire evening.
"Very well," you softly said.
"Wonderful," he replied, and in a swift motion, he pressed his lips to yours. It was short as he pulled back almost as soon as he had kissed you, but it was enough to keep you wanting more.
"Fiyero, that wasn't—"
"—come with me," he softly said, lacing his fingers with yours once more. "Somewhere without so many prying eyes, yes?"
Your answer was almost instant: "Yes."
Fiyero led you back up the staircase, and he didn't look back once at the ballroom.
"Where are we going?" you asked.
"Somewhere where I can see you and only you," he said. "If that's alright."
"Oh," you softly said. "Yes. That's alright."
"Then follow me," he said. "Do you trust me?"
You smiled sincerely for one of the first times in the evening. Did you trust him? What kind of foolish question was that? If you had the chance, you'd do whatever he'd ask of you. You found your answer rather quickly, knowing within yourself that it was far truer than any other statement you had ever uttered.
"With all the power in Oz."
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justsomeantifas · 13 hours ago
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Sure, we do need to take responsibility for our own education at the end of the day.
There are many resources out there to learn just about anything you want to from scratch, but everyone pointing this out doesn’t seem to resonate.
My advice, honestly, if you feel you can’t do what others consider the bare minimum in self-research is to work on your attention span.
Pick ANY long form media or game … and ONLY do that for the duration of the game or media until you feel like you can move onto something like reading for 15 minutes a day.
These things are like muscles and if you work on them you can improve.
I have adhd, I feel I should add and had to go off meds for reasons, but found creating my own structures and goals worked to have a functional attention span.
Now not all of you are ADHD BUT all of you CAN improve your attention spans which as studies have shown have been deteriorated by social media.
I think it IS up to you to work on your attention span because literally no one else is going to care, so you do have to make the effort to improve this aspect of your life. You have to workout your mind. I am terribly sorry to say.
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