#let me know if I should write a oneshot
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knifknightkorner · 7 months ago
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Okay so hear me out
Danny is one of the Bat's clones (I'm thinking Tim or maybe Jason?). And Ellie is Danny's clone. The father (probs Tim) stumbles across Ellie while she is sightseeing around Gotham. Ellie gets into some trouble and the Bats get her DNA. Tim finds out he is the father of a clone and has a breakdown.
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itsyagurlchip · 3 months ago
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Hihi! ^w^ saw your requests were open annnd i was wondering if you could do a husk x reader [romantic + established relationship] where reader is his lucky charm. Like he just has such good luck when they’re around him (especially when he’s gambling). Just make it super cute n fluffy :3
☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:・The Best Gamble Love Can Give☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
ᯓᡣ𐭩 warnings: super fluff attack(!) cussing(!) gambling/alcohol addiction(!) wife-coded reader(!)
ᯓᡣ𐭩Guys I swear to God if y'all don't correct my grammar imma find y'all houses and eat your waffle fries/j. This one is super cute anon! Thank you for requesting <33 I want to make some hearts explode with this one. Would you be fine if I made you Husk's spouse? (tehe)
ᯓᡣ𐭩 Even if he didn't win, he still has you. And that's more than luck could ever grant.
ᯓᡣ𐭩 !!For those who don't play, Speed is a game where you have 20 cards to discard, and two discard piles. You have to place down each card (one by one) as fast as you can, in order, and whoever runs out of cards first wins. If there are no more cards to place, you grab from the piles on the sides to continue the game. All while keeping 5 cards in your hand at a time. While you don't need to know this in order to read the story- it will be helpful to know bc I'm not that good at explaining card games.!!
Husk kept on losing, and it was starting to piss him off. Today's redemption exercise was to practice to eliminate the need for gambling; ironically, Husk was chosen to lead the rounds of games. The current game was Speed, with Hellish versions of playing cards.
And he was losing. So. Bad.
Everyone was sitting in the main area, with the usual furniture switched out for tables and chairs. Husk growled, but kept his composure.
"Where's the serenity at, dear Husker? Getting 'chaff' now are we? I guess the cat does lose it's skill, after getting too curious of course." Alastor said, antagonizing him further. Husk banged his fist on the table, making the sinner in front of him jump a bit.
"Fuck!" He grumbles out. The first 5 were won easily, but for some reason these past 30 something games have been no luck.
At first, the goal of the exercise was to play a few games, and quit. You know, to discourage bad behavior but still have fun. But right now, even without a genuine bet, he was setting a bad example. He knows. The sinner in front of him was playing swiftly and skillfully. His wing twitched and he grimaced as his mind stuttered.
But he just had to win. He has to keep going.
Charlie was getting concerned, but he waved her off. Everyone else was finished with their rounds of games, it was time for a new activity. But Husk wasn't gonna allow himself to lose like this.
Not to a damned practice game.
Then you walked next to him. One by one, he rapidly placed down cards in order. His partner did as well, speed was the game afterall. His ear twitched as your heels softly clacked against the floor.
"Hey Husk, baby. You doin' any good?" You said, your voice dripping like honey over his ears. But then he remembered the game. You were worried, Vaggie told you he's been going on like this for hours non-stop. It's almost nighttime.
"Yea, don' worry. Imma win this game in just a minute." He responded, gruffly as he missed the chance to place his ace. He put down a 4 over the five in the second discard pile then. 2 cards left in his deck, but none that followed the order of the discard pile. Fuck.
His partner had 1 card left, probably a king considering the cards that were already placed down.
You kissed his fluffy forehead, relishing in the near silent purr he let out.
"Alright sweetheart, finish up the game so everyone can go to sleep." You fidgeted with his ears in your hands for a bit, before letting go and sitting at the bar.
Watching from afar, you saw that he won. But he wanted to play again. This time though, you didn't allow it. Vaggie saw that you had it handled, so she went up to the elevator. Probably to her room with Charlie, you guessed.
You stood up, walking towards him again with a glass of whiskey, swished with chocolate hints. You placed it in front of him while he was shuffling the cards, not before taking a sip.
The affectionate way it is then.
"Hey, you." You said, slowly rubbing up and down on his fur. You could feel it bristle in shivers before relaxing. Your chin rested on top of his head, lifting a bit to see what he was doing.
"Hey? You just talked to me a few minutes ago." He began to set the cards up, so you pluck them up and stacked them away into a withered box. His wing flapped in annoyance.
"I know," you chuckled. "I just knew you wouldn't last long without a drink. Nothin' too sweet of course." You finished, pushing the drink towards him.
While you couldn't eliminate his addictions, you could switch them for others in small amounts, enough to distract him to bed. You can't fix him, he can only help himself when he chooses to. You both know that.
"You know me too well, Sugarpie." Husk smiled, before talking a gulp of the glass you gave him. Half of it was gone. "No cherry?"
You laughed a bit, placing the box in your pocket to put away later. No one was in the room, no one you could see anyway.
"Naw." You rested your chin back down on his head, wrapping your arms around him neck a bit. "You would just swing it away. No appreciation for its flavor-" You scoffed amusedly at the thought.
He was now distracted away from the cards and now on you, good. You could hear Alastor snicker before walking away.
"Ready to go to bed?"
ᯓᡣ𐭩
In the dark room, you slept. Husk didn't.
He was wide awake, in a way that still made him feel tired, but not sleep. On his back, he looked up at the ceiling in mindless thought.
Husk didn't mind though, as long as it didn't affect your sleep. He looked at you. Your breaths were soft, and slow. His eyes dilated, though one could never really prove it.
Grabbing onto your waist, he cuddles into your side just a bit more, and relaxes with a deep sigh.
You, in your half asleep state, reach for him. In which you succeed, running your fingers through the tuffs of his ears in an unknown rhythm. Husk purred freely now, he loved it when this happened.
How lucky was he, of all people in this shitty hell, to still have his wife in the afterlife? Sure, you may not have done great things, but he was afraid that the two of you would forever be separated by heaven.
How lucky was he, in all of his shitty problems and mental shit, to be able to still have you around? To have you want him around?
That thought had brought a soft smile to his face. In all of his gambles, this was the best one he's ever made.
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I think I remember who asked this, but then again I'm answering this one late. soooo, if I tag you incorrectly I'm so sorry (@kltira )
I think imma call this place the "debriefing space" bc I always wanna ramble, but I'm never sure where. Also, so people won't have to read this before the oneshot/fic. Nothing here will be specific, maybe things I'm thinking while writing, or things that I sorta wanna discuss.
Rather than being a lucky charm, I was thinking reader to be more of a saving grace for Husk. Which he already finds lucky enough. While you are motivation to win, it doesn't always secure his place for it.
I know this trope is kinds overused, but you and Husk were married during life (yippee!!). You guys are just two old people who want to spend time with each other lmao. I sorta headcannon that when he starts to get too into his addiction, you kind of save him (BUT NOT FROM ALASTOR LMAO/hj) and that was one of the reasons why he married you. Not only to keep himself in control, but to see you guys thrive together <33
you are quite literally his only silence from this hellhole.
{Can we just talk about how when Angel Dust nonconsensually touches Husk ppl call it "cute" and "aww", but when Valentino nonconsensually touches Angel it's now bad? likkke. we love the show but we gotta get some new writers for season 2 and fans who don't mischaracterize everything they see.
I'm now only really starting to think about this- and the double standard is starting to be more noticeable to me. Like when Sir Pentious was saying "no" but those demons still dragged him into the sex room. But that scene was used for entertainment rather than "Hey this is a serious moment" like Valentino was.
I'm all for HuskerDust, but you gotta realize when a character does something bad and does nothing to redeem from it, no matter if they're a part of the main cast or not. (isn't that what the show is supposed to be about- redemption? y'all do understand how destructive this behavior is and how it can easily make HuskerDust toxic right?). }
we need the option for another 'keep reading' thingy bc I talk too much. ignore my yapping.
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if you would like to be added, check my blog. if you would like to be added, check my blog. SEE? I SAID IT TWICE!!
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aphantimes · 1 year ago
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am i really shit at looking or are knuckles centric fics p uncommon
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snailsrneat · 11 months ago
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Yo, I made doodles of Twyla.
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Twyla Ace gives her a migraine and she may or may not a bit murder happy. Also Ham cause that's her favorite food.
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fuckyeahdindjarin · 1 month ago
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Prima Nocta
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Marcus Acacius x Virgin!F!Reader oneshot
{ Main Masterlist }
Rating: E (18+ only)
Summary: Tomorrow, you will marry your husband-to-be. But tonight - it belongs to his father.
Word count: 6k
Warnings: DUB CON only due to nature of prima nocta, both parties enthusiastically consent, twist on prima nocta, unspecified age gap, loss of virginity, dirty talk, oral sex (F receiving), fingering, dry humping, unprotected sex, unrealistic descriptions of first sexual experience, all manners of historical inaccuracies and linguistic anachronisms sorry not sorry, ignores the events of the movie so you can consider this an AU, Marcus is widowed and has a son, shall we call this bfd: Ancient Rome version lmao
Notes: I'm a bit rusty for sure, but I had the absolute best time writing this oneshot. It's a departure from my usual themes to say the least, but once this idea took hold of me it never let go. I know prima nocta is meant to be invoked on the wedding night, but I like the idea of it being the night before so I made it so 🤷🏻‍♀️ Gorgeous dividers by @firefly-graphics as always.
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He thought he had gotten away with it. Having lived more than fifty winters in the capital and outlasting eight emperors, he regrets to confess that he is still none the wiser. 
It would have been such a clever manoeuvre. Palming off a generous but very much unwanted gift from the emperors, and marrying off his son in one fell swoop. 
He should have been suspicious of their swift assent to his proposal. In his eagerness to bow out of their audience, it had been convenient to dismiss the flash of malice in their eyes.
And in the snake pits of Roman court, no misstep goes unexploited.
He is not proud that he is caught off guard by the emperor’s closest advisor who intercepts his walk home from the armoury, even less so of his ineloquent response to the missive handed to him.
‘What is this?’
‘Urgent word from the emperors, sir.’
Cold sweat prickles the back of his neck as he stares unseeingly at what is scrawled on the parchment.
‘I cannot,’ he blurts out, indignance rising fast and hot in his chest. ‘I will not.’
‘You think it wise to twice refuse the emperors’ generosity, general?’
General. To him, the culmination of a lifetime of service and sacrifice. To them, an instrument of bloodshed in war, a plaything in peacetime.
Desperate, he tries a different tact. ‘The right of the first night belongs to the emperors. I dare not commit sacrilege.’
‘It is not sacrilege if it is freely bequeathed upon you, general.’
There is no mistaking the warning lilt in the last word, and he has no answer.
‘The hour grows late. You had better not keep the bride waiting,’ says the advisor with an air of finality before retreating into the shadows.
Marcus shudders at the cold that settles into the empty space, fingers stained with ink from the now crumpled dispatch. 
He remembers nothing of the remainder of his short journey to his quarters. As the front door swings open, he realises there is something in the night air that is out of place.
Sea salt.
You are here. 
Would you be demure? Frightened? You are of royal lineage, a lady of the small but proud coastal kingdom strong-armed by Rome into an unequal treaty for its profitable trading posts, in return for the mercy of not being razed to its fertile grounds.
And now, you are lowered to marry a general’s son. 
Worse, lowered to have your virginity taken by his father.
Candlelight spills from the crack underneath the door to his bedchamber. Marcus takes a deep breath, and pushes it open.
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You hear him. The swish of fabric, the slide of leather soles on marble.
The general is here.
Your hand in marriage is part of the terms of the treaty, and the missive that sent for you announced your match as the widowed hero general. You had him cast on the wretched journey from your home as one of the domineering, brutish soldiers now garrisoned at your family’s kingdom - only to be told on your arrival that you will be marrying his son instead.
Relief at the news that your future husband would not be decades older than you is instantly snatched away by furtive whispers of prima nocta.
Your future father-in-law will take you first.
The humiliation is bitter on your tongue. You are Rome’s to marry off, hers to give to whomever she pleases -
But she won’t break you.
The door creaks. You stand tall and hold your ground.
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He sweeps into the room with an air of well-worn authority, the cloak on his back dark as the shadows that nip at his heels.
The candles flicker when he sheds the heavy robes with a smooth sweep of his arm.
You stare, in a manner that would have had your lady-in-waiting tutting. But you are alone, very much so, with this man not ten paces from you.
General Marcus Acacius. 
He is older, certainly old enough to have a son your age. But you had not imagined him so - strong, for the lack of a more imaginative word. His shoulders are broad under his wine red tunic, and you can see the muscles in his arms flex as he clenches and unclenches his fists at his sides. From where you stand, you can hardly see any silver in his dark curls.
Marcus unflinchingly assesses you right back. 
No, you are decidedly not demure. Or frightened. Far from it. 
You are defiant, even as you observe him with evident curiosity. Your head held high, a telltale sign of your noble breeding, mouth set in a stern line while your eyes burn bright with a proud fire. 
Judging the silence has gone on long enough, he breaks it with a formal, ‘My lady.’
‘General,’ you answer steadily.
The door slams shut belatedly behind him, and you flinch - the first glimpse of weakness you concede. 
Marcus breathes in, delivering his next sentence with as much composure as he can muster. ‘I expect you have been informed of the - formalities that we are to perform tonight.’
You grind your teeth so hard you are astonished that your jaw doesn’t crack.
Your virtue is just a formality.
Refusing to dignify his question with an answer, you nod once. 
He watches you wordlessly, and you meet his gaze. You thought you would find something else there, not the regret that you see.
Turning away from you, he reaches for the amphora on the table. 
‘Wine?’
‘Yes, please.’
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The wine is drunk in silence and moderation. Him at his desk, you perched on the end of the bed.
As you sip, pacing yourself, you observe the general discreetly from across the small distance between you. 
To say that you are disconcerted by his behaviour would be an understatement.
You assumed that he asked for this - for the perverse pursuit of deflowering his son’s bride-to-be while eschewing the unwanted responsibility of a wife. 
Yet, watching him stare pensively into his goblet, lips pursed in a pout that is almost sullen, you are not so certain anymore. 
When you bring your drink to your mouth to find it empty, you clear your throat. ‘I have to wake up early tomorrow morning - for the wedding.’
The general starts before collecting himself, drawing himself up to his full height as he sets down his cup with a heavy clunk. ‘Understandably, my lady.’
Then he moves, charting a course across the room, licking his thumb and index finger to douse the candles dotted around the space.
The thought comes to you unbidden - he has thick fingers. And big hands. 
Your cheeks tingle with heat.
Soon the chamber is cloaked in darkness, save for the candles next to the bed, the warm light pooling in the most inviting manner on the soft surface despite your trepidation. You long to rest your aching feet. 
He comes to a standstill on the other side of the bed, as if waiting for you to take the lead. You cannot decide whether you are thankful for him not imposing on you, or frustrated at him for not taking the lead in what is very much unfamiliar territory.
In the end, the desire to get off your feet wins out, and you gesture at the bed. ‘Shall we…?’
‘Certainly.’ He bends down, you assume to take off his sandals. You do the same, toeing off the soft leather slides the maids had you change into when they dressed you.
Once barefoot, you climb in with as much grace as you can summon, acutely aware that you have an audience. Your knees sink into the mattress, and you’re relieved that it is stuffed with feathers, luxuriously giving under your weight. Shifting primly, you find your back against the headboard, cushioned by equally soft pillows.
The general follows suit, the frame creaking as he eases onto the suddenly too small bed, strong shoulders brushing yours as he settles next to you.
You stare hard at the back of your hands, the only way to stop your gaze from wandering to the span of his fingers splayed wide on sturdy thighs, or lower to the bony ridge of his knees - gods, you must be unwell, since when have you been drawn to knees?
You are still questioning the state of your sanity when the general, who has been nothing but unperturbed and composed since he stepped into the room, stumbles over his words in a manner that is neither, as if he had held the question behind his teeth for too long.
‘Are you - are you absolutely certain - in no doubt - that you are… untouched?’
His question stings like salt in a festering wound. Indignant doesn’t even begin to describe the retort you spit at him. ‘Yes, I am. Are you?’
Peering at you sideways, his eyes widen at your outburst, and fear briefly flits across your heart that you have overstepped.
 But then, he surprises you with a smile. ‘You bite, don’t you?’ 
You let your shoulders sag, too far gone to hold onto your facade. 
‘It’s been a long day, sir,’ you admit. ‘To be frank, I just want to get this over with and forget it ever happened.’
He pauses at your confession, as if weighing his options. Then he shifts, and says, ‘The reason I ask if you were untouched is because, if you were not - we could have just pretended we did this.’
You frown. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I did not invoke prima nocta, it was imposed upon me. The emperors are displeased that I turned down the betrothal, this is their way of punishing me for my ungratefulness.’ 
Oh.
As much as you didn’t want this either, your pride suffers to hear him describe it as a punishment.
‘I know…’ you stumble, halting to steel yourself. ‘I know I am nothing like the women here in Rome. I spend too much time in the sun, and my hands are rough from working with horses -’
‘Why do you say that?’ he interrupts you.
You look away. ‘That is why you do not wish to marry me, is it not? And why you do not want this - why you do not want me.’
The general sits up, palms on the mattress to support his weight, the lines on his forehead deepening with a frown. ‘No, that is not the reason. You are young, you deserve a husband who can build a life with you in the years to come. Not a washed-up widower.’
The bitterness in his voice turns your head. 
‘You’re not washed up, from what I hear.’ Somehow, you find the courage to add boldly, ‘Or from what I see.’
Letting your eyes trail unabashedly over his broad frame, a thrill chases through your blood when you notice his Adam’s apple bob with a tight swallow. He’s so close that you know you’re not imagining the heat seeping into your bones.
Silence stretches between you, charged with a consciousness that creeps in and spreads. Two souls from different worlds and stations put in a situation in which neither of you had a hand. This may not be how you imagined giving away your virtue - far from it - yet your stomach twists in anticipation.
You glance upwards, only to find him already watching you.
Something has shifted when you so bravely reached out and tipped the balance with your words. He can tell that you are not one for flippant flattery, and it takes him a moment to collect himself, harder said than done with the blood roaring in his ears.
When he speaks, it comes out in a much lower register than he intends, so much so it sounds like a secret. 
‘You say you just want to get this over with. But I can - I can make it good for you. It doesn’t have to be something you want to forget.’
Your eyes widen and your lips part, and heat blooms almost uncomfortably in his chest. ‘You would do that for me?’
‘I will serve you in whatever way you ask of me tonight, my lady.’
Never have mere words, albeit delivered in such a delicious baritone, moved you so. You came in expecting to have your virtue stripped from you, the same way Rome callously stole you away. Where you thought humiliation and dishonour awaited, this man is offering deliverance and devotion - if only for one night.
Your throat tight with emotion, you nod in lieu of a spoken answer.
Marcus is deliberately slow in his movements, wanting you to feel safe in his presence. ‘How much do you know? So I know what I need to teach you.’
Despite yourself, shyness rears its head and you mumble, ‘I’ve - I’ve heard stories. I know what… happens… between a man and a woman in the bed chamber.’
He nods reassuringly, making you feel less of a fool for the juvenile answer you gave. ‘And has anyone touched you before?’
There’s no mistaking the lurch in your stomach as your heart hammers violently. ‘No. No one. Never.’
The protector in him stirs, summoned to duty, warring with the desire that seethes under his skin like the unholy flames of Vesuvius. He fears it is a quickly losing battle. 
Reading the desire in your endearingly open face, Marcus reaches over you to settle one hand on your hip as he leans close, his breath warm on your cheek.
‘Have you ever kissed a man?’ he rasps. 
You shake your head, eyes fixated on his mouth, framed by a tidy moustache. He is so close that you can see his beard is flecked with silver.
You swear the general is leaning into you, and every inch of you is on tenterhooks, enraptured by his proximity -
‘You should save it for your husband.’
You barely forestall the whine of protest that teeters on the tip of your tongue, pinching your lips together, but his lopsided smile tells you that he knows. 
‘I can kiss you elsewhere though.’
‘Oh,’ you inhale shakily when he dips to mouth at the side of your neck, landing on your pulse point in a suckle. Your whole body arches off the bed, hands gripping the sheets, head spinning at all the sensations that are new to you - the burn of his stubble, the cool trail his lips leave behind -
Then the palm on your hip pulls you into him, sprawling you against the wide cage of his body, your breasts pressed against his broad chest. The dress they put you in is thin, and the fabric rubs against your pebbling nipples as his kisses travel daringly low.
‘Am I going too fast?’ he pauses, voice strained.
Breathlessly, you shake your head.
‘If you want me to stop, or wait, you say the word. Understood?’
‘Yes, general.’
Two words he hears daily from his men, and yet from your lips, they unleash a dangerously feral side of him.
More. Is the only coherent thought that remains. 
Impatient hands reposition you so that you are astride him, and he groans when you slot flush in his lap. He watches your eyes widen at what you feel between your legs. Your dress rides up, and his blood rushes south at the bare expanse of your inner thighs on his skin. 
‘I want to see you,’ he speaks plainly, palms squeezing the dip of your waist. ‘May I undress you? Please?’
All decorum flees you, and you might have chanted yes, yes, yes to his question.
Dropping your chin, you watch his thick fingers nimbly undo the knot holding the front of your dress together. The silk capitulates like water, tumbling down in delicate drapes around your waist, baring you to his heated gaze.
‘You are beautiful,’ he declares with a solemnity that steals your breath.
And it is easy to believe him, the way his dazed eyes trail over your breasts, before his hands follow. Calloused palms, which you are sure have held many a sword in triumph, now cup your tender flesh in reverence. 
Your head lolls to the side as he teases you, but when he rolls his hips upwards, your eyes snap to the pained expression on his face. You’ve heard ladies in court whispering over wine about length and girth, but nothing could prepare you for the thrill of feeling a man’s undeniable desire for you.
Instinct guides you, moving your hips so that you are grinding against his length, seeking relief from what is building deep within you.
‘Do what feels good,’ the general murmurs encouragingly, palms on the small of your back to let you take control.
And just like that, you are thrown back to one summer’s day in your youth. You were bathing in a rock pool, under the spray of a waterfall in perfect solitude when you accidentally slipped forwards on the smooth stone surface. The unexpected sensation between your legs ripped through you like lightning on a clear day. And you chased that feeling, hips undulating until you shuddered and cried out. Knees trembling in the aftermath, you never dared to seek it out again, but neither did you forget.
And now, years later, you finally know what had transpired. Pleasure. And this time, under the general’s hooded gaze, you pursue it with single-minded determination.
Marcus wishes you knew how beautiful you are in this very moment. Breasts swaying in tandem while you rock back and forth on his clothed length, eyes glazed, every whimper from your swollen lips making him throb harder for you.
‘Good girl,’ he rasps, throat tight. ‘Take your pleasure. Take what you need.’
And when he sucks your nipple into his mouth, you wail, tipping forward at an angle that unexpectedly takes you apart.
The waves that wash over you are more intense than you remember, and you are sure that has to do with the man holding your hips to his as you buck, and the warm swirl of his tongue against your breasts, sucking and nipping as you come down from your high.
‘That was not your first time,’ he states as a matter of fact when the white noise in your ears finally fades.
‘It happened once, a long time ago, and I didn’t understand then -’
‘And now you do.’
‘Yes, general.’
This time, he lets loose a moan at your words. ‘I can feel your wetness through your dress.’
Confused, you look down, and your cheeks burn when you spot the dark patch on the delicate fabric. ‘Oh, I -’
‘It’s natural,’ he assures you. ‘The wetness makes it easier for -’
It dawns on you when you feel his hardness twitch under you. Oh. 
‘It - you feel -’ you stutter, struggling to comprehend how the girth of what you are sitting on could possibly fit inside you.
Taking your hand, Marcus presses a chaste kiss to your palm, eyes warm and open. 
‘We will take it slow. I will use my fingers first, to prepare you for me,’ he explains patiently. ‘I promised I would make it good for you, did I not?’
‘You did.’ 
And you have complete faith in him.
Your knees knock into each other hopelessly when he slides you off his lap, and he has to bodily prop you up against the pillows. Sinking into the soft feathers, you watch him kneel between your parted legs, and you feel so safe even as he towers over you. 
‘May I disrobe you?’
You bite your bottom lip, and nod. 
Except it’s not a disrobing, it’s nothing near as civil as that. The general rips the rest of your dress clean down the middle, rendering you completely bare beneath him.
Marcus knows should be ashamed of his brash behaviour. But how could he when you react so viscerally, jaw slack as your chest heaves in unmitigated desire? 
His gaze shamelessly trail over every curve and dimple, from the breasts he has tasted to where your knees are demurely closed, and knowing that he is the first - the only - to have laid eyes on you makes him impossibly hard. 
It matters not that you are not his to keep. This will always be his. 
‘You are exquisite,’ he professes, voice tight. 
You duck your head, more shy of his compliments than being nude before him. ‘You don’t have to.’
Sliding a finger under your chin and tilting your head until you meet his gaze, he assures you, ‘I mean every word.’
Then he moves down the bed until he can rest his weight on his elbows, and you startle when rough palms glide over the outside of your thighs, stopping at your knees. 
He pauses to give you time. ‘Are you certain you wish to continue?’
Your answer is a confident yes.
Then, as if opening the shell of Venus, he delicately pries your knees apart, and his breath hitches as you are revealed to him.
He is aware that he’s staring like an imbecile, words failing him. As the silence stretches on, you become self-conscious.
‘General,’ you demur, moving to cover yourself.
Shaking his head, he finally says, ‘Forgive me, but you are perfect.’
Then he looks up at you with such intensity that has you struggling to catch your breath, and without breaking eye contact, he bows his head - 
And closes his lips over you there. 
You are wholly unprepared - no one has ever gossiped about this in court. Your hips buck violently off the bed, but Marcus holds you down with reassuring hands, suckling on the pearl between your thighs with gentle laps of his tongue.
‘Oh, oh, oh,’ you stuttter, torn between watching the man wreak the most devastating pleasure on you and averting your gaze.
You’ve only ever known worship to be pious, and yet, this most vulgar adulation is the closest you’ve been to the gods.
His beautiful curls brush the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, catching the candle light as he moves, and the crook of his nose - so proud even with the scar on its bridge - draws patterns on your skin as he stakes his claim where no one has ever touched you. 
You quickly realise that what you felt just now in the general’s lap was insignificant and thin in comparison. This pleasure is all-consuming, something divine that has you weak and trembling all over. All you hear are slick, wet sounds of tongues and lips, and your own whimpers between garbled groans.
Marcus feasts on you, unapologetically. Flattening his tongue, he tastes you in broad sweeps, moaning into your sweet cunt as you writhe above him, your needy mewls driving him to the edge of madness. You taste like fig - the earthiness of the purple peel, ripe sweetness of the pink flesh.
Then your hands wind into his hair, pulling him closer, ankles hooking over his shoulders. He groans harder, the sound rattling in his ribs as you soak his beard. Surrendering any last vestiges of shyness, you rock against his tongue, nails scratching his scalp as you whine louder into the night air. 
Moans that will echo long after you’re gone.
The thought alone hardens his resolve to mark you unequivocally. You’re close, your pliant body quivering and breaths coming in shallow gasps now. He peers up at you, but your eyes are sealed shut and upturned at the gods, your breasts heaving.
Gently, he eases one finger inside you, and he grunts at how easily he slides in. You barely react, and so he pushes back in with two, coaxing a cry from you. Your cunt clenches as he gently thrusts his digits in and out, stretching your tight walls. 
‘Oh gods. Oh gods,’ you pant violently.
You’re close, so close. He wants to warn you of what is to come, but it feels like sacrilege to tarnish the moment with words. When he feels you begin to quiver, he laves at your clit harder, burying his fingers inside you to the knuckle, until he feels you crest and break. 
‘Gods, oh gods - Marcus!’
The cry of his name catches him off guard. He nearly loses control right there and then, as you ride out your high on his fingers, but by some miracle he holds out through gritted teeth. He devotes his attention to kissing his way up your body, from the slick inside of your thighs, to the side of your hip, making you jump when he sucks on your sensitive breasts.
You stare at his mouth with wild, dark eyes, and him at yours, but he vowed to leave your first kiss to your husband. Girding his self-restraint, he asks, ‘Are you alright?’
‘Yes, Marcus.’
His cock twitches at the sound of his name on your lips. He wants to hear you say it in all manners of ways - whisper it, gasp it, scream it. And by the cheekiness in your smile, it’s clear that you know what he’s thinking.
Your eyes drop to where his hardness is pressed against you. ‘Will you teach me how to please you, general?’
He swallows a groan, the animal in him rattling the bars of its cage. He replies diplomatically, ‘I will teach you how to teach your husband.’
In one smooth tug, he shucks off his tunic, then his loincloth, and he tries not to be self-conscious under your watchful gaze. Pulling you against him, skin on naked skin, he smears kisses along the side of your neck, smiling at your answering shudder. In return, you run your lips and scrape your teeth over his collarbone. 
Taking your hand and pressing a kiss to your palm, he slides it all the way down his chest and wraps your fingers firmly around his throbbing cock, his pained moan in your ear.
Eyes wide, you marvel at the size of him in your grip. ‘You are so big.’
Marcus curses through clenched teeth. ‘You are an insolent girl.’
With a wicked glint in your eyes, you correct yourself, ‘You are so big, general.’
If he wasn’t so aroused, he would have chuckled at your cheek. Instead, he growls, ‘Such insubordination.’
Tilting your head to one side, you grin. ‘And how would you discipline me, sir?’
He lets the silence linger for a beat, allowing anticipation to build as one big hand splays over your ass, hot lips brushing the shell of your ear. ‘I would deny you my cock, my lady. Let your sweet cunt weep for me, empty, not knowing how good it would feel to have me deep inside you.’
You are unsure if you are more shocked at the explicitness of his words, or at the gush of wetness that has you pressing your thighs together. If you had to wager a guess, he is just as affected as you by the way his length pulses in your grasp.
Marcus smiles as he takes in the way your body reacts to him. ‘But how can I deny such a lovely, desperate creature such as yourself?’
A sob escapes you. ‘Please, Marcus - I’m yours to take.’
With that, all self-restraint abandons him, and his lips crash into yours. At the back of his mind, he knows you deserve a better first kiss, something gentle and sweet. But to your credit, you seem to take it in stride, winding your arms around his neck with a deep groan as he deepens the kiss. Opening up your mouth, he sweeps his tongue against yours, making sure you taste yourself and the pleasure that he had wrung from you.
When he reluctantly pulls back for air, you hum, ‘I thought you said I should save that for my husband.’
He all but snarls, ‘Damn your husband.’
The possessiveness in his tone sends you reeling, and his resolve wears even thinner when your cunt brushes against him, so wet and soft, begging for him. 
‘I cannot wait any longer,’ he declares.
You bite your lip beseechingly. ‘Please, Marcus, I cannot either.’
He braces himself above you on strong arms, until all you can see is him, backlit by the soft candlelight. Beholding his beauty - the wisps of gray at his temples, the scar lining his cheekbone - your breath catches at the tenderness in his eyes as he stares down at you.
Holding the base of his cock, Marcus notches himself at the entrance of your cunt, trembling as he holds himself back. 
‘I will go slow,’ he assures you. ‘If it hurts, you tell me to stop. Understood?’
Your mouth dry, you can only nod. 
Holding your gaze, Marcus rolls his hips ever so slowly, jaw slack when he breaches you, inch by tortuous inch.
He is barely inside you and you already feel so unfathomably full.
‘Marcus,’ you gasp when it gets impossibly tight, nails digging into his broad shoulders.
He stops, and whispers encouragingly, ‘You are doing so well for me, taking me so beautifully. Just breathe.’
In between his patient, languid kisses, you unfurl, and Marcus gently pulls back, before pushing into you, deeper this time.
When you cry out, he shushes you, brushing the wet corners of your eyes with his lips. ‘Does it hurt?’
You shake your head. ‘No, it’s just - so much.’ 
‘I know, I can feel how tight you are gripping me,’ he mumbles into your neck, throbbing inside you while he holds himself still as you adjust. ‘Brave, sweet girl.’
When you find your voice again, you give him cheek. ‘I am a woman now, general.’
He smiles at you - a warm curl that crinkles the corners of his eyes endearingly - and claims your lips again. Feeling the tension seep out of your body, he thrusts shallowly so you can learn the movement of his hips. When he hits a spot that makes your jaw drop and your hips buck, he pulls all the way back, and drives himself to the hilt in one smooth motion.
And with that, you become a part of his soul, and his yours. His chest swells with the fiercest possessiveness and the greatest honour all at once, despite knowing that the circumstances that brought you together will inevitably tear you asunder at the break of dawn.
‘Marcus!’ you choke on a sob, throwing your head back, your walls clutching his cock in a merciless grip.
‘There she is,’ he grunts, mouth scraping the shell of your ear. ‘Say my name like that.’
And you do, over and over again, as he fucks into you. His pants land harshly in the crook of your neck with every thrust, hands greedily squeezing all the skin he can find - the curve of your ass, the dimple in your waist, your thigh to hitch it over his hip.
Looking down at you, eyes drunk and unfocused as you stare back at him, each squeeze of your wet cunt around him, every breath from your lips feels sacred.
He is seized by a sudden need to know. ‘How does it feel?’
Your eyes soften, and he shudders when you cup the side of his face to bring his nose to yours. ‘Divine.’
Marcus loses himself in you, in the wet squelch of your cunt around his length, the way your tightness takes every thrust. Words of praise that he doesn’t even hear tumble from his lips and onto every inch of skin he can reach as you cling to him, scraping your nails down his back and digging into the meat of his ass.
Pitching forward to press a hard kiss to you, he says, ‘I want you to fall apart for me again.’
‘Please, Marcus, please.’
Pushing himself up to his knees, still buried deep inside you, he spreads your thighs obscenely wide over his hips, and he moans at the sight of your cunt so full of him. With hooded eyes, he sucks on two of his thick fingers and brings them between your legs, carefully drawing circles on your clit, knowing that you are already sensitive from cumming twice for him before.
Your face twists in agony as he builds you towards another climax, patiently weaving the web of pleasure that wounds you tighter and tighter until your spine feels like it will snap in two. ‘Marcus, oh - don’t stop, don’t stop, oh gods -’
He bares his teeth as he feels you start to clench around him. ‘That’s it, that’s it. Cum on my cock, let me feel you, give it to me.’ 
Your peak crashes into you relentlessly, and as you are swept away, you can only wail and thrash, while Marcus curses and stutters unintelligibly above you as he spins out of control.
He had every intention to pull out, but it is as if some higher power is determined to foil his plans. With a guttural roar, his hips snap flush against yours, big palms grasp you so hard by the waist that you squeal, and he spills into you in hot gushes, once - twice - and again until he is spent.
Mine. Mine. Mine.
He doesn’t know if he said that aloud or if it was a trick of the mind. All he knows is that he eventually collapses bonelessly onto you, skin fused together with sweat and cum as your breaths become one in the crisp night air.
It is him who breaks the stillness, his old bones creaking when he stirs to relieve an ache in his back. His softened cock slides out of you, prompting you to whine in protest. He grunts when he looks down to see his cum dribble out of your cunt, leaving a pearly trail on the inside of your thighs.
When he meets your eyes, there is no awkwardness in the silence. ‘Forgive me, I didn’t mean to spill my seed inside you. That was reckless.’
Your heart skips a beat at his admission, and you can’t hide the pride in your voice. ‘Do I make you reckless, general?’
He tries and fails to be stern in his answer, the tenderness with which he brushes his nose on your cheek giving him away. ‘I know better than to encourage your insolence with an answer.’
You are far from discouraged though, quite the opposite. Knowing you have this man - who commands armies of thousands - at your mercy is a siren’s call.
Peering at him from under your eyelashes, you curl one leg around his waist. ‘Do you want to be reckless again?’
He huffs, but a smile breaks through. ‘Have you ever been told that you are a cocktease?’
You hum teasingly. ‘I have never heard that word before, but I like it.’
‘You do?’ he breathes against your lips. ‘You like being my cocktease?’
‘Yours, general.’
Marcus is astounded when he feels himself harden again, and he moans as you press open-mouthed kisses down his neck. ‘What spell have you cast on this old man, my little cocktease?’
You grin, letting him ease you onto your back so he can settle between your thighs again. ‘The kind that lasts until dawn.’
Eventually, morning must break, sure as the moon turns and the sun rises. In the golden rays of day, you will wed his son in ironic, virginal white, showered in rose petals. He will look on from the side in his finest ceremonial robes of red, as you walk away from him and into your new life as someone else’s wife.
But in the velvety folds of this night and many more to come, safely ensconced in the deepest corners of his memories, in lands far away, in war and in peace, there he keeps you - where you are not.
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More notes: Thank you for reading! As usual, comments/reblogs/asks would be very much appreciated 🥰 I hope you enjoyed this fic as much as I loved writing it!
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starmapz · 3 months ago
Text
BLOW ME (ONE LAST KISS)
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𓉸 fwb!satoru gojo x f!reader
𓉸 kinktober smut oneshot
❝ it's been two years since you last saw satoru. showing up at his door in the dead of night wasn't on your list of things to do today, but when things don't work out with your boyfriend, you find yourself back at your old best friend and fuck buddy's door. ❞
𓉸 warnings ; 18+ only. contains explicit content. fwb to strangers to lovers type thing. pwp. fluff. hurt/comfort. gojo's a lovable idiot. sub!gojo. whiny!gojo. pet names (baby, sweetheart, pookie, darling, pretty girl, pretty, love). slight spitting. slight overstim. oral (m! and f! receiving). praise. handjob. unprotected. creampie. p in v. fairly soft n sweet.
𓉸 words ; 10.8k.
𓉸 a/n ; this turned out so much longer than i expected but i had a lot of fun writing the story so i hope you enjoy!
masterlist || kinktober 2024 masterlist
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Bleary-eyed with exhaustion, Gojo’s barely able to keep himself upright as a knock at the door urges him out of bed at three in the morning. He yawns tiredly as he pulls on a pair of sweatpants and shuffles down the hall to his front door.
He wouldn’t say he’s shocked to see you standing at his door, it’s not the first time you’ve made your way over unannounced. No, the shocking part of this encounter is that he hasn’t heard a peep from you since two years ago when you ended your ‘benefits’ agreement with him after getting a boyfriend.
He scratches his bare chest, looking you up and down. Your hair is a mess, mascara streaks are smudged on your cheeks in a lazy effort to cover up the evidence of your tears and the little fuzzy kitty cat shorts and matching shirt you’re wearing tell him everything he needs to know.
But why come to him?
“You broke up.” It’s not a question, he doesn’t need you to answer. The proof is written across your face.
“Something like that.” Your voice is raspy, throat raw from the sobs that wracked your body earlier, though now you just seem exhausted.
But why come to him, not your close friends?
Silently, Satoru’s eyes raise to your car. All of your belongings are clearly stuffed in the back seat from what he can tell. You’re shuffling from foot to foot, standing a small distance away from him.
“So are you here to fuck?”
It’s blunt, but it’s the truth of the agreement you once had. Though Gojo’s somewhat bitter tone is a reminder that you had forgotten about the ‘friends’ portion of that agreement somewhere along the way.
You hesitate, jaw opening and closing once, twice, three times as you search for an explanation but in truth you aren’t sure why you’re here. The thought tears you apart inside and you bring your arms up around your torso, shrinking in on yourself. That can’t be all that’s left of what was once your closest friendship.
But after all these years, maybe it is.
“No, I’m not,” you whisper softly, avoiding his gaze. “I… I should go.”
Even in his bitterness, your ex friend doesn’t have it in him to let you drive off to god knows where in the middle of the night alone when you’re clearly upset and came to him for help. With a tired sigh, his hand grabs your wrist and he tugs you inside.
You let out a surprised gasp as he easily pulls you into his house, shutting the door behind you. He takes a step back, crossing his arms over his broad chest as he waits for an explanation that never comes as you grapple with your own thoughts. His mind drifts back to the last time he saw you, a bitter taste bubbling in his throat at the thought.
He remembers the way you excitedly told him you had a date. He’d smiled, turning to face you on the couch, though it didn’t reach his eyes. He doesn’t think you noticed, too caught up in your own excitement.
You had told him the benefits needed to end. It didn’t matter to him, he was never in this for the benefits.
In truth, he figured you would come back to him with the realization you had feelings for him. You were always so enthusiastic around him, you were the one always pushing the boundaries you had established. Satoru never minded, but the longer the agreement went on, he was sure you would come to the same realization he had.
He was so sure you would reciprocate the feelings he was so afraid to voice out of fear of losing his closest friend. After all, he had really only agreed to your whole ‘friends with benefits’ arrangement because he thought it would give him the opportunity to get closer to you.
The cocky asshole that he is, Gojo Satoru thought that his dick game was so good you would fall for him.
Then you went on a second date with the guy, gushing to Gojo about him with a movie playing in the background and he realized just how wrong he was.
He’d fucked up. He’d fucked up so colossally and he didn’t know how to fix it. He didn’t know if he even could fix it.
It was on the fourth date that your new guy made it official and you texted Satoru right away.
He feigned happiness. He would be what you needed him to be.
But the recoil of his complicated relationship with you hit him fast and hard.
It started with a decrease in time spent with you, which he could live with. Then, it was a decrease in excited texts. He’d be lying if he said it didn’t hurt, when his time had once been completely occupied by you and only you. Regardless of the benefits of your friendship, that was never what mattered to him.
You were like the sun to him. You shone brighter than anyone he had ever met, your smile as radiant as it was beautiful. Burned into his mind like a polaroid, cherished, even in the two years since he’s seen you.
There was no argument that ended everything, no big explosion or blow up of emotions that caused something so dear to both of you to fizzle out suddenly. It all came from a place of not knowing what to do after the benefits ended.
It wasn’t like sex was the only thing you did with one another. In fact, most of your time spent together was watching movies, playing games, or just gossiping and chatting. When the sex ended, however, something lingered.
It was that lingering feeling that shattered what remained of the bond you shared. Between longing looks from Satoru while out on a bubble tea run, and lingering physical attraction to him that left you uncertain, it was too much for you.
Just like that, you slowly stopped responding. You can’t blame Satoru for the fact that he stopped trying to reach out either, if you were in his place you’re certain you would have been embarrassed by the amount of unread messages he’d sent.
Now, you’re ashamed for letting your greatest ally, your biggest cheerleader and your most eager movie buddy slip through the cracks so easily. So blinded by new, young, love that you never stopped to see what was already in front of you.
Although the loss of your closest friend was gradual, fizzling away until there was nothing left, it changed you irreparably. The changes were small at first, they came in the form of little things that would bring your mood down as you reached for your phone to excitedly text him only to falter. With time, the uncertainty and lingering sorrow became a constant numbness and you were so caught up in your own world you couldn’t identify what caused it. You couldn’t make out the little hole in your heart in the shape of Satoru. With time, the hole grew until it was so immense that it resulted in a fight with your boyfriend.
A long fight in which he had insisted that although he cared for you, he had come to terms long ago with the fact that you didn’t feel the same way that he did anymore. The most gut wrenching part was that he was right, but you couldn’t accept that he was right for so long, because you couldn’t accept that you had feelings for someone you hadn’t seen in two years.
Now, standing in front of him, you’re at a complete and utter loss for words. All this time without a word and to think that he’d still let you in. No, he’d pulled you in. After two years of silence, two years of doing him so painfully dirty, he was still here. For you.
“Why are you here?” He asks again when the silence grows so loud he thinks he might be going crazy.
“Can we sit down?” You ask him quietly, feeling guilt wash over you as your eyes trail his washboard abs, as though you have any right to admire just how good he looks.
He steps aside, letting you walk into his living room. It looks almost the same as the day you were last here, probably yapping about your date like a damn fool. The only real difference is that the photo that once sat on a shelf in the corner of the room of the two of you at an aquarium was gone. A pang of sadness courses through you at the realization that he’s probably let you go.
You’re too late. You fucked up.
Gingerly, you take a seat on the soft couch, squirreling your way as far into the corner as you can. You feel small in his presence, unable to read him as you once could. You’re not familiar with the painfully neutral expression he wears, masking what lies beneath. The hint of bitterness to top it all off only adds to the taste of bile in your mouth.
“I owe you a lot of things, Satoru,” you begin. You’d run over what you planned on saying for an hour in the car before gathering the courage to walk to his door, yet the words died in your throat as soon as you took in the sight of him.
He sits opposite you, the distance between the both of you like a rope pulled taut. All you want to do is pull him towards you, but you fear the rope might snap if you do, frayed at the ends. You swallow hard, chancing a glance at those gorgeous blue eyes of his.
“I’m sorry,” you whisper. It will never be enough. You left him behind, and no apology will ever do him justice. “I’m so sorry,” you whisper again, choking on your words as tears burn in your eyes.
Satoru lets out a long breath. He never stopped hoping, praying, you would come back, but now that he has you here, something holds him back. Fear, maybe. Dejection, assuredly.
He doesn’t want to be your second choice.
As a tear trails down your cheek whilst you try your best to stay strong before him, the grip that fear has on him becomes frail, crumbling at the sight of his best friend, his movie buddy, his girl, crying.
“C’mere,” he sighs, sliding across the couch as he closes the distance between you. You cling to him like a lifeline as you sob against his bare chest. His skin is soft and warm, just as you remember it, tainted by your salty tears.
It takes him a moment, but his arms do eventually snake around your waist, pulling you into him.
“You deserved so much better back then,” you hiccup, a sound that has Satoru shutting his eyes as your pain crackles in the air around him, charged. “You deserve better now, I shouldn’t be here, I-” You panic suddenly, pressing open palms against his chest to push yourself away but his arms don’t relent. In fact, he rests his chin softly atop your head as he tucks you back against his chest in an effort to soothe you.
He still doesn’t say a word, but the silence and his insistence on holding you tightly serves as your encouragement to talk. That’s all Satoru wants, it’s all he needs. He needs to understand what happened. He wants to know why you’re here after two years of radio silence.
And do you ever talk. The words spill from you, messy and unorganized thoughts falling from your lips like a waterfall.
“You tried so hard to get through to me, and I was such an asshole. I kept trying to- to-” you stammer over your words as you catch your breath between sobs, “-to tell myself my attraction to you was just physical, but then I cut you off anyway and that wasn’t fair. I just don’t think I ever realized-” again, a sob wracks your body, “-that I had feelings for you, I wasn’t willing to admit it because that was my number one rule between us and then I ruined everything anyway, so what does it matter?”
You sniffle, the tips of your fingers gripping at his skin.
“I was so stupid, and everything was so much worse without you. I wanted to text you to tell you little things but anytime I stared at your contact, it scared me how long it had been and how awful I felt and now- now-” you swallow hard, “-now I’m here in front of you and I don’t know what I’m even saying. I- I-” you stammer, your breathing picking up as the words fall from your lips before you have a chance to think twice about them. “-I think I’m in love with you.”
Satoru stiffens beside you, his arms rigid with the revelation. It takes a moment to sink in, before his chin lifts from your head and he pulls back to see your expression. Your cheeks are puffy, eyes red, pupils blown. You look exhausted, and somewhat shocked, as if you’ve just realized this yourself.
His eyes have the sea held within them as turmoil flows through them. Wave after wave, each crashing ashore as he wrestles with his own thoughts.
He whispers your name in a sigh, running a hand through his hair. He should have told you two years ago, before everything became so complicated. “I can’t be your second choice,” he sighs, rejecting you, although his arms don’t leave the tight grip he holds on you.
Of course he never stopped loving you. He got together with others afterwards, had the odd fling here or there, but it was never enough. It never filled the hole in his heart that you’d carved to fit you and only you.
Yet you didn’t fit within that hole either now, he feared. His heart had been hollowed out for someone that didn’t exist anymore.
“We broke up,” you tell him, as though he doesn’t already know. He just stares at you, so you continue. “He told me something changed after we started dating. Like a part of me died and he was never sure why,” you sigh, staring blankly at Satoru’s chest. “He said his feelings weren’t being returned, and he was right.”
Satoru’s grip on you tightens. It’s miniscule, but you feel the way he pulls you just the tiniest bit closer.
“I just couldn’t admit it to myself. It felt wrong because of all the rules,” you try to explain, but it’s all a pathetic attempt at what you’re trying to get to. “You were never my second choice, Toru.” The nickname sets his heart racing beneath your palm. “You’ve always been it for me. I was just too caught up in those stupid rules to see that.”
Pain lingers in the back of his mind, but something new seems to fill his chest. Like you’ve found the hole in his heart that he was so sure could never fit you again, and you’re molding it to fit you as you are now. Healing him in your own way.
“I’m not a rebound,” he blurts out. He can’t let you in so easily, not when you could snap him in two like you had once before. Yet beneath the walls he’s trying to uphold, he’s so painfully vulnerable, an open book for you to see. Behind your tear-filled eyes, he knows you recognize this.
“Never,” you agree, the tips of your fingers tightening against him. “Promise, pookie.”
The nickname he’d used to tease you all those years ago feels foreign from your lips, you’d always hated when he called you it, yet he can’t help the way it makes his lips quirk up. He chuckles, unable to resist the laughter bubbling in his chest.
Such a stupid nickname.
You laugh along with him, sniffling as the lighter air between the both of you settles comfortably.
“Four years and three months, by the way,” Satoru’s fingers fiddle with the hem of your shirt as he holds you to him. The curious tilt of your head that’s oh so cute to him is enough for him to continue. “That’s when I fell for you.”
Your eyes widen at the realization you’ve both just confessed. Your heart races in your chest, battering at your bones like a caged animal. “Four years and three months…? What…?” You trail off, brow furrowed.
“We went bowling with Ieiri and Nanami. You and I versus the two of them.”
“I remember.”
“They were beating us until the last frame. You bowled a strike and ran back to hug me.”
The memory feels fresh in your mind as you recall how silly Satoru looked in those oversized bowling shoes. You’d all looked like clowns, but Satoru had playfully dressed the part too in an ugly over-patterned button-up, always the butt of all jokes as long as it meant making everyone smile.
In reality, it was always to make you smile. He never cared about the scoffs and playful banter from the rest of the group. He wanted nothing more than to hear your pretty laugh.
“That’s it?” You ask, mouth agape. You and Satoru have so many similar memories from many years prior, so why that one?
“Dunno. There was just something so endearing about you running into my arms over bowling. You looked so gorgeous.” Satoru pauses for a moment as he grins to himself, reliving the memory. “You were smiling like winning bowling was our greatest achievement, wearing those stupid bowling shoes and you had on ugly socks specifically for the occasion-”
“They were cute,” you pout. “They had snails on them.”
Satoru snickers. “The snails looked high, sweetheart.”
“No they didn’t!” You whine, although you can’t deny the heat in your cheeks as he relaxes with you, observing you with the fondness of someone who never lost sight of you, even when all seemed hopeless.
“Their eyes were literally red.”
“Nooooo,” you whine, jutting out your lower lip. Gojo’s eyes flicker down to your lip, returning to your eyes. “It was just a design choice,” you insist.
“A design choice that made them look high,” he snorts, rolling his eyes.
You laugh through the remnants of your sobs, running a hand over your face in an effort to wipe away what’s left of your tears. To your surprise, Satoru’s hand closes over yours, moving your hand away from your face as he softly wipes your tears away.
“You asked me why I was here,” you state as Satoru watches the movement of his thumb beneath your tearline, wiping the liquid from your lashes. “I think I’m here because it’s the only place that feels right.”
His face softens, and what’s left of his bitterness sputters away like a candle burning out. It leaves warmth in its wake that spreads through Satoru’s body. Although he thinks the pain will take time to heal, it’s not like the hole that you left when you shut him out, one that hollowed his very soul. Time will heal his wounds, he just hopes that this time around, you’ll let him in. Although you’ve both confessed, he knows you well and he can feel the way you’ve carefully barricaded your heart.
For now, he just hopes you can get some rest as he takes note of the heavy dark circles beneath your eyes.
His hands grip your waist, long thumbs settling beneath your breasts, brushing their undersides. You have no bra on, you’re in pajamas that Satoru’s seen a thousand times before. It’s clockwork, the way he shifts you until you’re settled comfortably on his lap while he leans back.
“Movie night?”
You nod, eyes widening hopefully, a familiar sparkle shining within them that warms Satoru’s heart.
He hates to see you cry. It brings him more pain than he could possibly have imagined, even after two years of bitter silence.
He uses his foot to pull the remote on the coffee table towards him without needing to move you off his lap, leaning you both forward before resting back. Your head rests comfortably on his bare chest, his arm circling your waist like it belongs there.
There’s no question of what you’ll be watching as he turns on your favorite Studio Ghibli movie. Not a single memory of you has been lost to him, each one fresh in his mind as though you never left.
He sets the remote down, reclining back on the couch with his feet up on the table. Your knees lean over his thighs, hands resting comfortably on his muscular arms that hold you flush to his skin. Settling comfortably, you do your best to focus on the movie and keep your thoughts from spiraling, although it isn’t so easy.
“I’m sorry, Toru.”
Satoru’s white lashes flutter as he hears your voice amid his near-slumber halfway through the movie. He blinks a few times to wake himself up, inhaling as he looks down at you. Your head still rests on his chest, eyes looking up expectantly at him.
“It’s okay,” he shrugs blearily.
“No, it’s not. It never will be. I’m not asking you to tell me what I did was okay,” you insist. Satoru observes you quietly. You’ve matured over the last two years in ways he’s never considered. “You don’t have to forgive me right now, but I’d like a chance to earn your forgiveness.”
In truth, Satoru thinks you might have had his forgiveness since the moment he saw you standing at the door. The depths of his pain are already long forgotten as his sorrows wash away to leave space for blossoms taking root in his veins.
He’s not one for caution. Satoru has always been the type of man to dive headfirst into something without a second thought, that’s how the two of you ended up in this situation anyways. A joking suggestion on his part taken entirely too seriously to land him the official ‘fuck buddy’ status.
This time, as he dives headfirst into your request, it’s not a joke or a dare or anything of the sort that he’s so used to.
You’re taking this seriously. You’re taking him seriously. Taking into account his feelings of being a second choice, a rebound, and you’ll spend a lifetime showing him he never was to begin with if you have to.
He shoots you a tired smile, head flopping to the side in a lazy fashion. His white hair falls over his eyes, obstructing your view of his gorgeous cerulean irises. “Consider your wish granted,” he agrees.
You return his smile, reaching up to card your fingers through his hair, unaware that you’ve soothed him almost instantly to an easy sleep as his gentle snores fill the air.
Despite the events of the long night and the early morning light beginning to peek through the windows as dawn approaches, you settle into an easy sleep in his arms.
When you awaken the following morning, the two of you have somehow shifted to be on the couch horizontally. You’re tucked between the back of the couch and Satoru’s chest, his arms wrapped protectively around your middle. His breath fans the crown of your head, his grip on you almost suffocating, he's holding you so tightly.
You don’t dare wake him, not after the night he had. Settling back comfortably against his chest, you rest your eyes as you wait for him to stir. It isn’t too much longer before you feel his muscles begin to twitch and the pace of his breathing increases. After a few minutes, his eyes flutter open and he takes in his surroundings, but more importantly, the gorgeous girl in his arms.
It’s a dream he’s had so many times that it can’t be real, can it?
“Ow! Did you just pinch me, Toru?”
“Sorry,” he mumbles groggily in a voice so incredibly sexy you can’t believe you didn’t notice your feelings sooner. “Had to make sure you were real.”
He shifts, moving to pepper kisses over your hair. Your giggles are musical as he showers you in affection, but when he pulls back, he catches a glimpse of… something that he can’t place.
“What’s on your mind, pretty girl?”
Your worries are forgotten momentarily with each pet name he uses, but you find your words soon enough. “I guess I just feel guilty,” you admit with a shrug and Satoru sees it again. He sees the walls you’ve built reflected in your eyes, shadowed with guilt.
“Eh? Nothing to feel guilty about,” he grins, but the look you shoot him in return tells him you’re not in the mood for him to take this so lightheartedly.
“I’m serious. I missed two years of your life.”
Satoru’s thumb rubs circles beneath the fabric of your pajama shirt with one hand, bringing the other up to rub his eyes. He’s not sure he’s awake enough for this conversation. Certainly not in a serious capacity.
“It’s not that long,” he shrugs, moving his free arm beneath his head as he shifts on the couch to lay on his back with you tucked into his side. He stares up at the ceiling. “I mean, you owe me a lot of movie and game nights, but that just means I get to make you pay,” he smirks, prodding your side.
It’s not the serious response you’re hoping for, but it does wonders to quell the nerves bubbling beneath the surface. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. You better go easy on me though, you’re not a cheap date.”
He pouts playfully, lip jutting out as he prods your side beneath your ribs. You squeal in surprise at his finger jabbing into your side and in an effort to escape the ticklish sensation, proceed to shove him off the couch.
With a thump and a soft ‘oof’, he lands on his side on the (thankfully) carpeted floor.
“Sorry, Toru!” You squeak, peering down at him.
He rubs his shoulder with a wry smile. “Geez babe, I thought you were trying to make things up to me,” he grumbles as he pushes himself up off the floor.
You flash him an apologetic smile, taking a moment to admire him as he stands at his full height before you. He’s always been handsome, but even in the couple of years since you’ve seen him, he’s filled out and bulked up further. There’s a faint hint of barely visible white stubble growing along his chin and his hair is a breadth longer than you remember and falls in a more intentional manner over his head rather than its usual disheveled style.
He’s breathtaking, and you wonder how you were ever so foolish to begin with.
Unfortunately, he’s also just as frustrating as the day you last saw him.
“See something you like? You know, if you really wanna make it up to me-”
You cut him off by getting to your feet and shoving a hand against his stupidly pretty face, shutting him up with the action as he reels backwards. Catching his balance, he chuckles and trails after you as you walk into his kitchen just as you had so many times before.
Aside from a few new magnets on the fridge and a new set of dishcloths, it’s just as you remember it. Something about the knowledge that even in two years, things haven’t changed so dramatically that you’ve missed everything helps to keep you from feeling guilty.
“You know, I was gonna say if you wanted to make it up to me you could make me breakfast,” he grins cheekily as he leans into your personal space.
“No you weren’t.”
“I thought about it,” he shrugs as you catch him in the act of lying. You can’t resist the way your lips quirk up into a smile. He’s still so Satoru and his presence comforts you in a way you didn’t know you needed.
Opening the fridge, you take a look at what he’s got available, or more like the complete and utter lack of food in his fridge.
“Have you always lived like this?” You ask as you move to his pantry, which is somehow equally empty apart from a jar of peanut butter sitting beside some protein powder and a sickening amount of sweets.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” He whines as he stares over your shoulder at what looks like a perfectly full pantry to him. It has mochi and chocolate and-
“What do you even have for breakfast usually?”
He purses his lips, staring up at the ceiling. His hair falls back over his ears as he does so, his skin so perfect you’re almost jealous at just how blessed he is with good looks. “Dunno. Mochi and some eggs?”
You recoil at the thought of mochi and eggs as a meal, nose wrinkling. “What happened to pancakes or omelets? We used to make them all the time.”
Something akin to sadness flashes in his eyes and you turn your full attention to him. “You weren’t there,” he says simply, his voice lowered, his tone unusually vulnerable. “I only really made them because you wanted them.” He doesn’t say it with the intent of making you feel guilty, but your shoulders fall to your sides as your chest coils with the emotion.
“Right.”
“Hey,” he raises his hand to cup your cheek and pull your attention away from your feet. “That’s behind us, yeah?”
Your eyes flit between his, the way they seem to hold galaxies within them. His face is so close to yours that his breath fans your face and your heart speeds up as you glance at his lips-
Like a gentle reminder of your wrongdoing, guilt churns in your chest and you stumble backwards out of his grip. Although he’s already forgiven you and given you another chance with him, you can’t help the way your heart stutters around him and your walls heighten out of fear of fucking things up again.
Yet your behavior only serves to confuse Satoru, who had been so sure you were about to kiss him and his heart is still hammering in his chest as you nearly trip over a flat of outdated soup cans, which is wild because how do soup cans even get outdated?
Before you can crash into the shelves behind you, Satoru reaches out to wrap a strong hand around your forearm and tugs you from the pantry.
“Um-” you clear your throat, trying to divert his attention away from your sudden meekness. “Can we order something?”
Satoru observes you for a moment, his expression unreadable before his usual grin finds his face. “Sure, pretty. You want your usual?”
Your eyes widen slightly, the guilt burrowing itself deeper into your chest as you realize just how many pieces of you remained tightly wound within his life all these years. “Yeah, that sounds good.”
He saunters off to his bedroom to grab his phone and place an order, your eyes trailing after him until he’s out of sight. With a sigh, you bring a hand up to clutch at the shirt hanging over your chest with a photo of a little cartoon kitty on it. Your heart hammers against your hand and you wonder what you’ve done to deserve such kindness from him when you had left him behind so easily.
Well, no, that’s a lie. It hadn’t been easy. It left a hole so deep within you that it tore you from a two year relationship and brought you here to Satoru’s door in the middle of the night in pieces. It was selfish, really, to ask him to help put you back together, and seeing how eager he is to have you back in his life does little to quell the growing feeling of wrongfulness.
With a deep breath, you try to remind yourself of the fact that he’s giving you another chance and you need to use this opportunity to prove yourself rather than shut him out again. Letting the breath out through pursed lips, you pad slowly from the kitchen to the living room, looking around the familiar room in daylight.
The TV is newer than you remember and there are a couple of mostly dead plants that you wonder if he’s ever watered that are new to you. A couple of empty mugs sit atop a table to the side of the couch and there are some new movies and games stacked in the bookshelves at the side of the room.
Before you even realize you’re moving, you stand in front of the shelves. Sitting on one of the lower shelves beneath a thick layer of dust is a small bowl you recognize all too well.
Satoru hadn’t been too keen on the idea of taking a pottery class with you, but he couldn’t resist your doe-eyed pleading. He always was weak for you, and so you had learned how to make bowls together. He had beamed at you upon completing his bowl, showing it to you with such childlike glee that it had warmed your heart.
Taking the bowl delicately into your hands, you flip it and feel your heart clench as you see the familiar initials carved into the bottom. Yours, alongside Satoru’s, with a heart. How had it never occurred to you?
How horribly clueless had you been?
You set the bowl down as your gaze trails the rest of the shelves. There’s a small collection of rocks from each of your beach trips, a strange tradition you had shared after finding a fossil lodged into a flat stone you’d been intending to skip across the water.
Finally, you stare at the empty spot where a framed photo of the two of you once sat. Although the photo was gone, you would never forget the day. You had visited the aquarium together with Suguru and Shoko very shortly after becoming friends with benefits. Suguru had noted that the two of you seemed particularly close, but you’d brushed off his words.
He was right, though. It solidified your friendship. It was the beginning of something beautiful and you regretted ever letting it turn ugly. Blinking, you bring a hand up to your face to wipe away the beginnings of tears when you catch a glimpse of something laying on the top shelf where the frame was just barely in view.
Reaching out, you pick it up and your jaw practically drops, your heart gripped with so many emotions you don’t know where to begin. Relief, longing, fear, uncertainty, guilt, and most importantly, love. Satoru never let go of you.
There, in your hands, is a photo of Satoru grinning with an arm around your shoulders as you peer up at the whale shark behind you, wide-eyed with awe at the beautiful creature. The photo never moved, he’d just laid it down when it became too painful to look at.
“Alright, I ordered all of our favorites and some new things I wanted to try-” Satoru comes around the corner from his room, phone in hand, peering into the kitchen before he finds you in the living room. “They had something called a Croffle, I just had to- are you crying?”
Satoru’s hand falls to his side as he hears you sniffle. You straighten, refusing to face him as you attempt to compose yourself.
He takes a step towards you, setting a large hand on your shoulder as he peers down at your hands. “Oh, pretty girl. C’mere,” he coos, pulling the frame from your fingers with one hand as he wraps the other around you. He sets the photo back in its place on the shelf, upright now, before his full attention is on you.
He sways you softly from side to side, soothing his hand up and down your back as he tucks your head beneath his chin. Your cries are silent, the only sign of your sobs being the way your body shakes and the warm tears that wet his bare chest. He stands with you like that, swaying you gently from side to side and humming gentle “it’s okay”s into the crown of your head for a couple of minutes.
With a sniffle, you pull back and wipe the remnants of your tears, keeping your head down in an attempt to prevent him from seeing your puffy features. “Sorry, I- I don’t know what came over me,” you croak with a half-hearted laugh.
Satoru is silent for a moment as he quietly observes you. “You know,” he starts, “if you keep shutting me out, you’re not gonna be able to make things up to me.”
“I’m not shutting you out,” you retort stubbornly, peeking up at him.
He dramatically swings his head back to stare at the ceiling. “You show up at my door at- what-? Three in the morning? To try to fix things- which is working, by the way- and now you shut me out?” He asks, reeling back and crouching until he reaches your eye level. You can’t escape those stupidly gorgeous eyes of his now, taking in a deep breath as you attempt to compose yourself.
You pull your lower lip between your teeth, mindlessly chewing on it as you consider what he said. You’d be foolish not to take his words into consideration given that he’s right, you are here to fix things, and the fact that he said it’s working sparks hope you haven’t felt in a long time within you. Yet, you’ve upheld your walls for so long that it’s difficult to let him in. Years of rules between the both of you, no kissing, no cuddling outside of aftercare, no PDA, they all still lived within you, even if you wanted to break them down. Sure, the rules were broken often, but not without reminding yourself why they were there later.
Then there were the walls you built to protect the Gojo-shaped hole in your heart. The hole that you couldn’t identify the shape of until now. With Satoru standing alongside you attempting to crawl his way into that hole and fill it, it scares you. Having what you didn’t know you needed for two whole years, if not more, is a terrifying thought.
You glance up at him, patiently waiting on your response as you consider his words while his thumbs rub soothing circles into your upper arms.
With your attention now on him, Satoru takes the opportunity to slide one hand down to your waist, taking a small step towards you until you’re flush to him. You hold your breath at the contact, giving him a wide-eyed stare. His words replay over and over in your mind as his other hand slides up your neck to rest on your cheek. He deftly tilts your chin up as his eyes bore into yours.
“Let me in, sweetheart,” he whispers, his face so close that your entire body feels as though it’s on fire and you can’t help the way your eyes flicker to his lips, so soft and close.
The air between you is charged, tension crackling in the air as the world seems to pause just for you. Your heart beats erratically and you fear it may escape its cage if it pounds any harder.
Satoru swallows hard as his thumb runs across your lower lip. Your breathing speeds up, as though it’s racing with your heart as you cling desperately to his chest like a deer in the headlights. His heart races beneath your fingertips, the only sign that he’s anywhere near as flustered as you are.
“Can I break rule number one?” He whispers, his voice low and sexy in a way that you’ve heard so many times but it’s charged with something new. Something more tender than you’re used to.
You glance between his eyes and his lips, letting out a shaky breath as you throw caution to the wind and slide your hands up to wrap around the back of his neck and pull him the remaining distance down to your lips. Time stands still as his lips softly capture yours, moving slowly as he pours every ounce of adoration into the kiss. As though he fears he may never have the chance to kiss you again, he puts everything he has into it.
It takes only a faint brush of his finger along your chin to tilt your head up to give him better access as his tongue crests your lips. You’re pliant against him, your lips parting for him as he breaks down your walls. His tongue takes over your mouth, his minty taste flooding your senses as his fingers grip your waist almost bruisingly with how tight he holds you.
He hesitates as he pulls back, both of your eyes fluttering open to take in the sights before you as you catch your breath. Satoru’s cheeks are red, white lashes fluttering as he blinks quickly.
“Why did you never say anything?” You ask, your voice barely a whisper.
“You had so many rules. You’d scold me for just putting a hand on your shoulder in public, what was I supposed to do?” He examines the way your expression returns to guilt, pressing a quick peck to your lips once more in an attempt to pull you away from the walls he’s trying to break down. Your eyes shine once again and he lets out a breath of relief. 
“I’m sorry, Toru.”
He kisses you softly again. “Stop apologizing. Just be with me here and now, we can figure everything out, yeah?”
As you nod, there’s a knock at the door and Satoru grins.
“Now come try this Croffle thing I got.”
“Am I supposed to know what that is?” You tilt your head as you trail after him to the door.
“Croissant Waffle.”
“Right. Of course,” you shrug playfully, heading back to the living room where Satoru sets the delivery bag on the coffee table. The two of you had always had a habit of eating anywhere but the kitchen table and it seemed that wasn’t about to change now.
As he pulls out your favorite order of pancakes alongside his own, you shoot him a lopsided smile at the fact that he remembered every single little detail of your order, right down to the specifics of no whipped cream as it was too sweet. He always insisted it was perfectly sweet, but maybe that’s just because of how saccharine Satoru himself is.
“Okay, I got a sweet and a savory one,” he beams, holding up what you can only assume is the Croffles. They seem to be just croissant shaped waffles, though you assume the dough is likely flaky.
“There’s no world where you eat the savory one, so just give me that one,” you chide with a roll of your eyes.
“Ouch,” he pouts, “I’m an adult, you know. I can eat it.”
“Satoru Gojo,” you get his attention and his back straightens as though he’s in trouble with you. “Look me dead in the eye and tell me you would eat your pancakes and a savory Croffle.”
The way he avoids your gaze tells you everything you need to know and you burst into laughter, followed shortly after by his own. You snatch the savory Croffle from his hands as the two of you share your favorite breakfast once again. It doesn’t surprise either of you to find the Croffle is also delicious and you may need to change your orders. Then again, everything from this restaurant is delicious.
“I missed this,” Satoru hums as he adjusts the way he’s sitting on the floor, leaning on his elbow over the short coffee table.
“Me too,” you hum, a bittersweet smile gracing your lips as you set your breakfast down to stare at it.
“Ah-!” Gojo blurts out a noise and just as you look up at him, he’s tackling you to the floor, pressing short and chaste kisses to your lips followed by your nose, your cheeks, your chin, and your forehead. He peppers them across your face as you squirm beneath him, laughing as he refuses to relent.
“Toru! Toru, stop!” You whine through giggles, pushing against his chest.
“Nope! Not until you stop trying to shut me out,” he insists, his hair draping around your face like a curtain as he holds himself just above you, pressing more chaste kisses to your face and lips. In an effort to stop his relentless attack, you pull him down and deepen one of his kisses. He hums contentedly into your lips, letting you lead.
You move slowly at first, cherishing the gentle feeling of his soft lips, but the way he treats you as though you’re porcelain causes something to coil in your stomach and you greedily pull him down harder, deepening the kiss as his lips part. Your tongue explores his mouth, the taste of sugar and syrup fresh on his lips but it’s the way he whines that sets your stomach on fire with need.
You part from him, the evidence of your lust now wet in your panties as you stare at him with blown pupils. He recognizes the look on your face and tugs you to your feet in one fluid motion. Like every other time you’ve done this dance, you figure you’ll end up in his arms, making out as he stumbles to his bedroom and tosses you on the bed, but to your surprise, he instead scoops you into his arms bridal style.
You yelp in surprise, snaking your arms around his neck as you cling to him. “Toru?” You question as you peer curiously up at him. He shoots you a genuine smile, filled with glee.
“Lemme treat you like a princess for once,” he grins. Your face softens and you bury your face into his chest. Who would have thought your eager fuck buddy would be such a romantic sweetheart?
He sets you gently on his bed before sitting beside you, the bed sinking beneath his weight. To your delight, he pulls you into his lap so that you’re straddling him. Leaning back towards him, you capture his lips in an eager but passionate kiss and it seems the dissolving of your rules has changed the way it feels being with him.
Where once you kept kissing always off the table, the addition of it changed the entire tone of being in his bedroom. Where once you would eagerly fuck like rabbits, using the act purely as a way to relieve stress and have some fun, now it feels like a union of years’ worth of emotions. The way Satoru holds you as though he’s afraid the moment is fleeting, the way he puts his soul into the kiss just as you do, it’s a moment you know will play in your mind like a movie years into the future.
Satoru moans needily into your mouth as you let your hands roam, exploring the peaks and valleys of his abs. He’s grown bulkier since you last saw him, clearly continuing to work out. When your eyes flicker open as you catch your breath, his eyes are locked on you with a look of wonder that’s entirely too sweet given just how badly you want to see him between your thighs.
You set your hands on his collarbones, pressing him down onto his bed. You’ve had sex more times than you can possibly count, but everything about this still feels new. Satoru has always been fairly dominant, but the man looking up at you now is needy with lust and willing to relinquish all control to you. He’s looking at you like you hold the sun up in the sky and he wants to worship you for it. His gaze holds such adoration that you could melt into him.
You grind against the growing bulge in his sweatpants as you lean down and hungrily capture his lips, tugging his bottom lip with your teeth. He whines into your lips, sliding his large palms along the length of your curves. He tugs your pajama shirt over your head, breaking the kiss only to toss it aside before he pulls you back to him.
Parting from the kiss to catch your breath, you trail the tips of your fingers down his broad chest, past his chiseled abdomen, until your featherlight touch reaches the waist of his sweatpants. His cock noticeably jumps beneath you and oh how Satoru yearns to submit wholly to you, to be yours and let you do anything you wish to him.
Satoru’s pupils are blown with desire, his jaw slightly ajar as he stares at the swell of your breasts, admiring the way you look on top of him, so pretty. You smirk at his reaction to a simple drag of your fingers along his skin, wondering what else you can elicit from him now that you have him laid out beneath you.
Now that you’ve tested the waters, you cup Gojo’s face gently as you press a kiss to his lips before sitting up on your knees to shimmy out of your shorts and panties. Satoru thinks he may actually be seeing stars when your fingers card through his hair and you sit on his face. You sharply inhale when he moans at the taste of your pussy, at being used by you and the way his lips vibrate from the guttural noise sends white hot lust straight to your core.
“Shit, Toru-” you breathe out, throwing your head back as he laps at your entrance, pressing chaste kisses to your clit that have you whimpering as you rock your hips forward with need. The additional pressure you place on him that restricts his breathing subtly sends him into a haze of pure lust as he tightens his grip on your thighs and plunges his tongue between your folds.
As you pant and fist his hair harder, Satoru’s tongue delves deeper until he’s tongue-fucking you so well you’re seeing stars. “T-Toru- hah- don’t stop,” you pant, legs trembling as he eats you so expertly you’d think he’s a professional. With how many times he’s eaten you out, he may as well be. He still knows exactly what you like as he nudges your clit with his nose, sending sparks through your body like only he knows how to.
Grinding harder against his tongue, Satoru relishes in the sounds of your pleasured pants and moans mixing with the obscene squelching of his practiced tongue as your gummy walls pulse around him. He can tell you’re close by the way you grip him, the way you tug his hair and subtly restrict his breathing between your thighs in an effort to chase your high.
Your stomach tightens and twists as you hurtle closer to the edge and you lean forward, eyes locking with the definition of an angel beneath you. “Look at me, Toru,” you pant between pleasured mewls. One look from those lust-blown eyes sends you over the edge and you collapse forward as your body trembles and shakes.
With languid licks up your folds, Satoru draws out every last drop of your orgasm, eagerly drinking up every last bit until you weakly push his head back into the mattress out of overstimulation. His lips are parted as he pants weakly in an effort to catch his breath.
“Tastes so good,” Satoru moans from beneath you. You take the opportunity to push yourself back up and slide down his torso somewhat to look at him, shooting him a lopsided smile. He grins back at you, slick dripping down his chin.
“You’re still so good with your tongue,” you whisper in a sultry voice. He swallows hard, his abs noticeably tensing beneath your thighs as his cock jumps. All these years and you had absolutely no idea Satoru got off so much on praise. “Such a good boy,” you purr, testing just what sets him off.
Immediately, his fingers tighten bruisingly on your thighs and he whimpers. “Please, baby. I need you.”
Your lips curl into a devious smirk as you slide down his body until you’re on your knees at the base of the bed. Satoru sits with his legs thrown over the edge and a look of pure eager desire as he watches the way you slowly leave a trail of kisses up his thighs.
There’s a noticeable wet spot on his gray sweatpants from where his cock is steadily leaking with pre-cum and you tease the spot with a kitten lick and a glance up at him. Satoru whines, relieved when you tug his sweatpants down to the floor, his blue boxers following shortly after. His cock springs to attention, the tip swollen and leaking for you.
Just as he thinks you’ll bring him relief, you duck your head down to kiss a trail up his inner thighs once more. Satoru mewls, babbling out a needy “please- please, sweetheart, please,” as he attempts to direct your lips to his jerking cock.
The sound of his begging is intoxicating but you want to drag out the pleasure for you both. “Let me take care of you, Toru,” you hum, pulling away when he attempts to move his hand to your hair. He lets out a broken groan as his hand goes back to the bed, gripping the blankets beneath with enough force to turn his knuckles white. “Good boy,” you purr.
Satoru’s breath hitches, pre-cum leaking from his cock as it jumps again, aching for your touch. Sparing him of your teasing, you finally swirl your tongue over his swollen tip. He lets out a tortured groan, his abs contracting with the effort of not immediately cumming onto your lips, so needy for you that he’s not sure he can last.
“Sh- Shit,” he whispers, watching intently as you lick a stripe up his length so slowly that he mewls. The amount of time he’s spent fantasizing about this moment is shameful, really, and now that it’s here, he’s sent into a frenzy. His thighs are twitching, abdomen clenching with the effort of not blowing his load immediately.
“Tell me what you want, Toru,” you whisper, your breath ghosting warm over his leaky tip.
“Need you, baby, need your lips on me so bad, please pleasepleaseplease-” he babbles out, swallowing his broken moan when you teasingly kiss his tip, chasing after his desperate reactions. Pleased with his begging, you take his cock between your lips, sinking down slowly over him as you take him to the hilt.
His cock nestles into the back of your throat as you choke on his length. Bobbing your head as you set a slow pace, Satoru’s brain turns to mush as pleasure courses through his body. You take him so well and he’s already careening dangerously close to the edge of an orgasm, abs clenching as he throws his head back when your pace picks up. What sends him over the edge is the feeling of your little hum when you take him down to the hilt again.
His hand reaches out to hold you steady as a broken cry leaves his lips when his orgasm comes crashing over him suddenly, cock pulsing as he paints your throat with his arousal. You swallow it with a hum that makes his whole body jolt. He gently pulls your lips from his cock, leaning back on his hands as he comes down from his climax.
A chaste kiss left on his cock makes him shiver. Glassy eyes meet yours, pleasure swirling within the barely visible blues of them. “Such a tease,” he murmurs before pushing himself up the bed and flopping down on his back.
He smirks at you as you slide back on top of him, your wet cunt grinding over his hardened length. “So fuckin’ gorgeous,” he groans, warm hands coming to rest on your hips. Rocking your hips back and forth as you chase the friction you so desperately crave, Satoru throws his head back. “Fuuuuuck, pretty. So fuckin’ good.”
You lean down to kiss him, slowing your ministrations as you capture his lips in a heated kiss laced with your own desperation. His tongue eagerly explores your mouth again, the taste of him fresh on your lips. Every second of you on top of him sends him into a spiral of glossy-eyed pleasure that he hopes he can bask in for the rest of his life.
When you pull back suddenly, he whines, sitting up on his elbows to watch your movements as you slide down the bed with a predatory gaze. His lashes flutter as you intently watch his reaction while you spit on his swollen cock head. His jaw hangs slightly open and he groans when you use your thumb to spread the saliva down his shaft.
“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he groans unevenly between shallow breaths. His length jerks as you slowly pump your hand, so slowly it’s painful. “Baby, ne-need you,” he babbles, bucking his hips to chase the friction of your hand.
You grin, kissing his tip. “Yeah, Toru?” You purr, reveling in the way he turns to putty in your hand. “Think you’ve been a good boy for me?”
“Mhm. Wanna cum inside you,” he pants, raking his hands through your hair.
Your breath hitches as you crawl back up his body and position yourself over his twitching length. You don’t have the strength to tease him anymore, more for your own sake than his.
“Please,” he begs once more, leaking pre-cum as he waits to feel your walls squeeze him. No matter how many times you’ve had sex, this is entirely different. This is full of a new kind of desperation, full of a new kind of adoration as you grip Satoru’s shoulders tightly while sinking down on his cock slowly. Satoru’s long thickness makes you moan as you break past the first ring of resistance.
Your pussy is heaven for Satoru, a moment he’s dreamt of so long he has half a mind to pinch himself to make sure this isn’t the world’s most vivid wet dream, but he’s entirely too fucked out to manage a sane thought.
“So tight, love,” Satoru moans, his grip bruising on your hips. Every bone in his body begs him to fuck up into you, desperate to feel your gummy walls milk him. 
You hold still for a moment as you adjust to his length, whimpering at the feeling of his cock twitching within you. As the pain of the stretch turns to pleasure, you begin to rock your hips slowly, leaning back on his cock as it brushes your g spot and bliss floods your body.
Suddenly snapping, Satoru grips you tightly as he matches your rhythm and rocks his hips in tandem with yours. Every stroke of his cock within you pushes you both closer to the edge and as your nails rake his chest, you can hardly manage a coherent sentence.
“Toru- so big-” you moan, your pussy fluttering on his length as he needily whines along with your words.
“Shit, not gonna last long baby, I’m-” he watches your heavenly expression as you whimper and babble through your own words, both glassy-eyed and fucked out. He can tell you aren’t far behind him in spite of how teasing you’ve been all night, increasing the pace that he rolls his hips at until he feels your cunt pulse and your orgasm hits you like a wave.
You hunch over on him, your pace slowing to a halt. Your body trembles with the strength of your climax and your walls milk Satoru’s orgasm from him at the same time. “Fuck- nngh- feelsogood-!” He slows his rhythm as he works wave after wave of both climaxes out, chest panting from the overwhelming feeling of reaching such a high with you.
The sounds of your breaths fill the room as blood roars in your ears. After a moment of catching your breath, your eyes flutter open to find Satoru already staring up at you. His eyes are glazed in pleasure, but the look of pure adoration is what makes your heart flip. If your cheeks weren’t already flushed, you’re certain the look he’s giving you would have that effect.
“Toru?” You breathe, staring down at him.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispers as his breathing begins to steady. You can’t help the grin that spreads over your features as you giggle at the man beneath you. Both of you so clearly spent in the afterglow of sex, and he’s being entirely too cute with his cock still nestled deep within you.
Sucking a breath through your teeth, you push yourself off of him, flopping down on the bed at his side as his slick drips from your folds and paints your thighs.
Comfortable silence settles between you both as you bask in the moment. Sparrows sing outside the window and the faint sound of distant traffic breaks through what’s otherwise a silent room. Your mind wanders to every moment in the past where Satoru shot you a longing gaze, where his words implied more than just friends. To each moment where you had brushed him off, assuming he was just pushing your buttons because that’s just how he is.
Now, each one of those moments held a different, new meaning. You turn your head to take in the sight of Satoru. He looks angelic in the morning light with his hair slightly disheveled, skin warmed by the sunlight peeking through the blinds.
“Where do we go from here?” You ask suddenly, pulling his attention to you.
Cerulean irises take in the sight of you just as you had done for him. It takes him a moment to reply, admiring your features and committing your face to memory as though he might lose you if he utters the wrong words. “As long as you’re by my side, I’ll go anywhere.”
“Satoru that’s… Cheesy and not what I meant,” you giggle. “But I’d love to start with a date. I know it won’t begin to make it up to you, but-”
“Sweetheart. Stop,” Satoru leans up on an elbow, kissing you so softly you would assume he thinks you’re glass. “I forgive you. I forgave you the moment I saw your pretty face last night.”
“Toru, please, let me make it up to you-”
“I forgive you. I forgive you, I forgive you, I forgive you. Okay? Stop worrying.” He peppers kisses over your face amid playful giggles as he speaks, eyes warm with mirth.
“Let me take you out, then. Just- Let me do something, at least,” you insist.
“Yeah, gonna plan something, baby?” Satoru smirks, pressing a kiss to your collar. You nod eagerly. “Sounds like a plan, then.”
Sitting up, Satoru shakes his head, running a hand through his hair. Quietly, you admire the musculature of his back and arms, smiling to yourself. You have to consider yourself lucky that you have this chance at all, grateful you didn’t miss your opportunity with the angelic man.
“Let’s get you cleaned up,” Satoru hums as he bounds to his feet. In spite of his own tiredness, there’s a pep in his step that makes you grin.
“Satoru?” You call after him before he can disappear, sitting up on the bed. He pokes his head back around the corner, giving you his full attention. “Since we’re doing everything out of order anyways, uh-” you hesitate for a moment, not because you doubt what you’re about to say, but because you don’t want to scare him off. “I love you.” Although it’s an admission you made last night as well, without the tension of the prior night it holds a new meaning.
His expression softens but his eyes seem to glow as he grins. Giddily, he quickly makes his way back to your side and kisses you with all the passion in the world. “I love you too, you gorgeous, wonderful, maybe a bit sticky girl.”
You wrinkle your nose at him. “Did you have to mention the sticky part?”
Bounding back over to the ensuite door, he hums affirmatively. “Yeah, if you keep calling me back and don’t let me clean you up.”
And with that, he disappears to grab a warm cloth as you stare with a smile at the place where he just stood. You sigh to yourself at how goofy Satoru has remained over the years, always the butt of the joke and the life of the party.
Now you think he just might be the light of your life too.
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masterlist || kinktober 2024 masterlist
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𓉸 a/n ; i don't know what happened this was meant to be like. 3k words of pure smut. but here we are so i hope you enjoyed! ♡ writing sub!gojo was a CHALLENGE for me it's not my usual thing so i hope i did it justice. as always likes, reblogs, and comments are super appreciated :))
𓉸 taglist ; currently open. please comment here or on the masterlist to be tagged in the rest of my kinktober work ♡ @tojis-ball-sack @rathreads @sukunadckrider @nxcxllxsevens @r0ckst4rjk
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whimsiwitchy · 3 months ago
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he's hooked (oneshot)
hugh jackman x actress!reader
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summary: y/n is an actress in her early 20’s. after having the best night of her career, Hugh Jackman introduces himself. the two stars hook up in the venue's bathroom and for y/n it was nothing but a one night stand. However, Hugh becomes obsessed and can’t let her go so easily.
warnings: use of y/n, she/her pronouns, age gap (22/55), smut, protected vaginal penetration, dirty talk, reader is kinda cocky, hugh is very persistent, reader mentions age gap a lot, oral (f receiving), one use of daddy (in a playful way), bathroom sex.
authors note: y'all I am trying my absolute best to write smut. this is my second attempt and while i'm not super proud of it, I am proud of myself for trying. practice makes perfect I guess lol. anyways, I hope you enjoy. (sorry if it sucks butt) love y'all <33
 Tonight felt like a dream. It was the 97th Academy Awards and you had won your first Oscar for best actress. When your name was called, you were completely shocked. The category was filled with nominees that you had looked up to your entire life and you genuinely thought you had no shot of winning. You were completely honored to win such an award so early into your career. After the ceremony was over, most of the attendees made their way over to the Oscars Governors Ball, which was one of the few after parties that are held annually after the event. It felt surreal to be in a place full of Hollywood's biggest names and it was even crazier that you were now one of them. You were currently sitting at the bar waiting for a drink when a deep accented voice spoke. “Congratulations on your big win tonight. You deserve it.” When you look over to see who was speaking, you’re met with a very handsome Hugh Jackman. “Oh thank you. Congrats to you too, best actor.” Your tone is teasing yet sincere. “I’m Hugh.” He offers his hand to shake, which you take. “I know who you are, Mr.Jackman. I’m y/n.” You shake his hand firmly, letting it go right after. “I know who you are, Ms. y/l/n.” He joked back and you let out a small laugh. You look forward as the bartender sits your drink in front of you and you give him a quick thank you. From the corner of your eye, you can see Hugh’s eyes trail your body. “Did you just check me out?” You turn your head to face him. “It’s hard not to when you look that good.” Hugh says without missing a beat. “Aren’t you married? I don’t think your wife would appreciate you hitting on a twenty two year old.” You give him an accusing look. He lifts his left hand, showing off his bare ring finger. “I'm divorced, babe.” You almost miss the smirk that rests on his bearded face. 
“Hm. Well in that case, there are plenty of beautiful women here your own age here that would happily go home with you tonight. Maybe you should flirt with them.” You turn back to your drink, taking a long sip through the skinny straw. “None of them are as pretty as you. You’re the most gorgeous woman here by far.” You let out a laugh of disbelief. “Bye Hugh Jackman. It was nice meeting you.” You slowly climb down the tall ball stool and grab your drink. Before you can walk off, Hugh calls your name, causing you to turn back towards him. “I’d love to take you out to dinner sometime.” He smiles and you’d be lying if you said the sight didn’t make your heartbeat stutter. “You know that Real Steel was my favorite movie when I was like eleven. Does that make my age more apparent to you or do you not care?” He furrows his brows, pretending to think for a moment. “Hm. I don’t think I care very much.” You laugh, dropping your head. “You’re unbelievable.” He smiles. “So is that a yes?” “No.” You smile and walk away. 
Your friend Kayleigh was ranting to you about a technical issue that happened during her performance earlier in the night and you were trying your best to pay attention. Sometime in between the chat you had with Hugh and now, he had removed the black suit jacket he had on. The sleeves of his white button up dress shirt were rolled up, showing off his large forearms, his biceps peaking out slightly. It was overly distracting. “Girl what the fuck are you staring at?” She moves her head around trying to match your staring gaze. “Y/n please don’t tell me you're staring at that old man right now.” You give her a sheepish look. “God, straight people are so fucking weird.” She sighs. “It’s not weird. He’s kinda hot.” You admit. “Whatever you say. Why don’t you just go talk to him? I’m almost positive he’d fuck you if you ask.” You look back over to where Hugh is talking to some older woman, just like you had suggested. “I kinda already turned him down. Well, not for sex. He asked me to dinner.” Her face scrunches up. “Ew. He’s like older than your parents.” You laugh. “Is it bad that I find that hot?” She nods. “Yes y/n. That’s like really fucking weird dude.” You ignore her. “Should I go try to get him to fuck me?” You ask, genuinely wanting her opinion. “If that’s really what you’re into these days, go for it. I’m highly disgusted by you right now though.” You stand up and grab the small clutch you had with you. “Eh. You’ll get over it. You’ll be okay on your own for a little bit?” She gives you a thumbs up and you make your way over to Hugh and the woman he was speaking to. 
“Hi, sorry to interrupt.” You apologize and turn to Hugh. “Could I talk to you alone for a moment?” He looks confused and completely caught off guard. “Uh, yea.” He turns to the woman. “It was nice to catch up with you.” She says something back that you don’t catch, too busy staring at the vein that is basically jumping out of Hugh’s arm. “You wanted to talk to me?” His words bring you out of your thirsting trance. “Follow me.” You grab his hand, dragging him through a door and into a hallway. “Where are we going?” He asks, taken aback by your lack of plan. “I’m not sure.” You say as you continue to drag him. “Y/n slow down, we can talk here. There’s no one out here.” He stops walking and it makes you tumble back, his grip on your hand stopping you from continuing forward. “We need somewhere private.” His confused expression only deepens. “I don’t know how much more private this can get darling. If it’s really that much of a secret, we can stop talking if someone comes by.” He offers and you huff. “I don’t actually wanna talk Hugh.” 
“You’re confusing me here darling.” You wiggle your hand out of his and raise it to your head in frustration. “I want you to fuck me.” You look at him and his eyes go wide. “I’m sorry…what?” “If you don’t want to, that's fine, we can go back.” Your confidence began to falter. “Wait, that’s not what I'm saying.” 
“So you want to fuck me?” He takes a moment to think before answering.
“Yes.” 
“Then help me find somewhere private.” The two of you make your way down the never ending hallway, checking every door you see. Hugh opens a door and closes it, making his way down the hallway. Seeing as it was the only door that opened so far, you went to check it yourself and saw that it was an empty bathroom. “Why’d you keep going, this is perfect.” You shout at him. “I’m not fucking you in a bathroom.” He looks at you like that was obvious. “Well it’s not like we have any other options. Come on.” You go inside and wait for him. Once he’s inside you motion to the door. “Lock it.” You tell him. “We’re really doing this?” He asks, confirming. “Unless you don’t want to.” He takes a pause before speaking again. “Get your pretty ass over here.” He growls. 
You walk over to him slowly. He pulls you close to him once you’re in arms reach and you look up at him through your lashes. “Too damn sexy for your own good.” He whispers before leaning down and locking his lips with yours. The feeling of his beard against your skin was addicting. The kiss was slow at first, both of you testing the waters with each other. It was you who begged to enter his mouth, tongue sliding against his lips. You didn’t want to come off so desperate but you needed more from him. His large hands slid down to your ass, giving it a tight squeeze that has you gasping. His tongue dives into your mouth, exploring every crevice. It’s messy but it’s hot. “Jump.” He commands and you listen. His hands grab the back side of your thighs and he walks you over to the counter, sitting you down inbetween two of the sinks. His lips are back on yours the moment your body touches the cold surface. 
“You sure you want to do this baby?” He asks. “Positive.” You breathe out. Hugh bends down, sitting on both of his knees. Grabbing your ankle, he gives kisses to the skin that your heel doesn’t cover. He moves upward, leaving long sensual kisses up your calf and thigh, raising the end of your dress as he goes. As simple as the gesture was, it felt erotic, never having a man take this kind of care with you before. His lips move higher, curving with your leg until he’s hovering above your pussy. “You’re wet already baby?” His voice is cocky and if it weren’t for the heat of his breath making your mind foggy, you would’ve called him out on it. He gives the wet spot on your panties a shy kiss. The act has you letting out a quiet moan, sounding louder from the echo of the bathroom. He slips a finger behind the cotton of your underwear and tugs at it while looking up at you. “Can I take these off?” He asks, finger still tugging the fabric dangerously close to where you need him the most. “Yes.” It’s breathy but it gets the job done because Hugh moves his head up, grabbing the top of the fabric with his teeth. He starts to tug your panties down, using one of his hands to help the other side. You lift your body slightly as Hugh pulls them down farther. When they’re all the way off, Hugh sits back with your panties hanging from the big toothy smile he's wearing. The sight was definitely going to be what you pictured the next time you touched yourself. 
“Oh fuck me..” He grabs your panties from his teeth and slides them into his back pocket. “Mhm. not yet, baby. Wanna eat your pretty pussy first.” He leans back in between your legs, lips ghosting over your heat. “So perfect.” He whispers as he kisses each pussy lip three times before finally kissing your clit. “Mhmm, please Hugh.” His tongue slides from your opening to your bud teasingly slow. You can feel his beard scratching the sensitive skin but it only adds to the pleasure. He swirls his tongue around your clit a few times before sucking it into his lips, the feeling causes you to jerk your hips. His hands, that were gently holding your ankles, moved up to hold your hips down. His mouth moves down to your opening, tongue plunging in and out a few times before moving back up to your clit. You hadn’t even noticed that one of his hands moved from your hip until you felt one of his fingers dip into you slowly. He curls the finger and moves it back and forth at an unexpectedly fast pace. Before you can adjust to it, he’s adding another finger and it all becomes too much. “Fuck..I’m gonna cum.” Your words are mixed with moans. He doesn't let up, his tongue and fingers speeding up and it has you cumming hard around his fingers, loud moans feel the air. He gives your pussy one last kiss before leaning back and removing his fingers. When you can fully see his face, it is a sight to see. His salt and pepper beard is covered in your slick, lips glossy. 
“Want you to see how good you taste darling.” He says while moving his two fingers to your lips. You open your mouth and stick out your tongue, taking his fingers in your mouth slowly. Hugh hisses as you suck around his fingers, tongue swirling around each one.  Once you're confident that they’re clean, you grab his wrist and take his fingers out of your mouth with a pop. “You still gonna fuck me old man or did you already cum in your pants?” You joke with him. He stands up, both knees popping in the process. Just as you're about to laugh and make fun of him some more, he grabs you off of the counter to stand you up. He turns you around and bends you over the counter. “You keep talking like you weren’t the one staring at me for an hour before asking me to fuck you.” He goes to undo his belt buckle and you shiver at the sound. You're looking back at him through the mirror. “Whatever.” You reach over to your clutch and open it, grabbing a condom. You reach back and hold it back to Hugh. “Here, put this on.” He grabs it with a questioning look. “Why were you carrying condoms?” You roll your eyes and rest your head in your hands, elbows propped up. “Can you mind your business and fuck me already. I’m getting bored.” You were lying right through your teeth. You were far from bored but you wanted to keep the whole ‘hard to get’ game going a little longer.
You watch him open the condom and see his arms move as he rolls it down his cock. As bad as you wished you could see him fully but it was kind of exciting- not knowing what you were about to get. “How do you want me baby?” He asks, looking at you through the mirror. You get a small glimpse of his dick as he slaps it across your ass. “Give me all you got daddy.” He smirks and shakes his head at the name. He lines up his member with your entrance and slides in slowly. Once he’s bottomed out, he doesn’t wait long before he’s slamming back into you. The stretch stings slightly and you hadn’t expected him to be so big. He slaps your ass hard and you yelp in response. You drop your head down at the pleasure. “Nuh uh. Look at me while I fuck you baby.” You raise your head to look at Hugh through the mirror again. “That’s it. Look at how pretty you look getting fucked by an old man.” You couldn’t help but listen to him. Hugh was fucking you dumb and you couldn’t think straight. His balls hitting your clit was what sent you over the edge for a second time. “Please don’t stop Hugh mhmmm fuck baby. I’m cumming, please don’t stop, baby.” Your moans match the rhythm of his hips, each thrust knocking the air out of you with its force. “Just like that sweet girl. Fuck not gonna last much longer.” Even after your high, the pleasure continues as Hugh chases his own. You push your hips back, meeting his thrust. The act makes Hugh moan. “Mhm, I'm gonna cum baby.” His hands squeeze your hips, thrusts getting sloppy as he cums. 
The two of you stay quiet as you both freshen up and try to make it less noticeable that you two left to have sex. You push yourself up onto the counter, sitting lazily as you watch Hugh toss his hair around. “Can you kiss me again?” You ask Hugh. He smiles and walks over to stand in between your legs. He grabs your cheeks and kisses you. “Mhm. You're a good kisser.” The compliment is sincere. You could kiss his lips for hours if he’d let you. He hums. “So, are you gonna let me take you out now?” You look in his eyes and smile. “Hugh we can’t. This was fun and it was good sex but that’s all it was.” “Why can’t we?” He’s quick with his words. “It’s just not practical Hugh. I think you're handsome and you seem like a sweet guy but I'm too young for you. The press would tear us apart quicker than we got together.” You explain. “Fuck the press. Let me take you out and get to know you at least.” You sigh. “I’m sorry Hugh. I can’t.” You offer him a small smile. “I’m not gonna stop trying. You’re too good to lose.” He kisses your cheek. “I should get back out there. I have a friend waiting for me.” He steps back, letting you hop down from the counter. “Bye Hugh Jackman.” You give him a small peck on the lips before leaving the bathroom. 
— 
A few weeks later, you were on set for the newest film you were working on. You’d just arrived an hour earlier and were sent to your trailer to get ready for the first scene. When you walked through the door, you were greeted with a bouquet of wildflowers and a note that read:
I can’t stop thinking about you. -H.J (xxx) xxx-xxxx
tag list: @prettycoolgirl, @nonamevenus, @godlypresley, @pedroscurls, @evasmlp, @bluetimeombre, @sue8724, @princessanglophile, @kellyxo1, @ccmoonshine, @hughverine, @chronicallybubbly, @realhotgirlshitah, @aurlavr, @almosthumongousfunsblog, @wolviesgirl, @flirtyjen, @lilgrinchbitch, @majesticalcocoa, @liamdasimp, @needz1nk, @squishyfruitloop, @afra-ww, @veru-boom
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teeramoonlover · 1 year ago
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Knock, Knock
Billy Loomis x Fem!Reader x Stu Macher
(NSFW)
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This is my first time writing oneshot, let alone smut. English is not my first language so bear with me.
Warning: Reader is a Virgin, Cussing, alot of cursing, knife play, mask kink, bondage, fingering, cunnilingus, deep throat, anal, threesome, and double penetration.
*Bold - Voice modulator, Italic - inner voice
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“Hello?”
“Hello.”
You furrowed your eyebrows. You didn't recognize this deep voice talking to you.
“Who’s this?” Instead of hanging up, your gut feeling tells you to continue the conversation with this stranger. Maybe you’ll get something out of it.
“You don’t need to know about me. I just want to talk to you.”
“Now why should I do that? Stranger danger. Didn’t your parents teach you that?” You saunter around the kitchen counter and stare at the sets of kitchen knives. You pull out a cleaver and wait for them to reply.
The stranger chuckled, amused with your response.
“Just want to call you so I get to know you better.”
You poked your tongue inside your cheek. You put the knife back in its place, humming to yourself.
“Alright, Mr Stranger. You got my attention and I'm bored as hell. Shoot your million dollar question.” You leaned your back on the counter, hand in pocket while another's still holding the phone.
“Tell me, do you like scary movies?” 
“Uhh, yeah.”
“What’s your favorite scary movie?”
“Does The Addams Family count? 1991 is the best.” You shrugged, checking your nails. The voice grumbled, annoyed with your movie choice.
“That’s not even a scary movie. And it’s a kid show.”
“Excuse me, that movie is my fave and you don’t get to judge my beloved Morticia Addams just because I watch a ‘kid show’. Besides, that movie is still considered horror okay. Take examples like Tim Burton’s production. Even though most of his movies are suitable for children, he still wants to insert horror elements so they could find comfort and won’t make them feel scared anymore. You should try Nightmare before Christmas or maybe Edward Scissorhand for starters.” you jested.  
“Not my kind of style. Edward is weird as fuck.”
“Oh now you’re crossing the line Mr. Nobody. Fun fact for you, Johnny Deep with or without heavy makeup is hot as fuck. Hell, if there’s any Johnny copycat out there, I’ll ride his dick straight away.” you mused. The audacity of this guy.
The stranger hummed.
Is it creepy that I can see him smiling through the phone?
“You should be careful what you wish for. It might come true.”
“Then, Amen for that. I ain’t regret what I said so if you have a problem with it, you jerked your tiny dick somewhere else.” 
He chuckled darkly.
“So, do you have a boyfriend?”
"What if I have one? Or maybe a girlfriend? What ya gonna do about it?” You rolled your eyes.
The phone went dead silent until a deep growl came out on the line. His voice changed to menacing.
“You don’t have a boyfriend. You’re not even lesbian.”
“Slow down tiger. I can change my preference wherever I want. Anyway, congratulations! You’re successful become from a total stranger to a fucking creep. Now no more games with me. What do you want?” You huffed, getting annoyed and a little creep out with his manic voice.
“Oh baby, you think this is a game? I’ll play a real game for ya. Knock, Knock.”
You yelped when you heard someone banging on your front door.
Shit. Wrong move.
You pull out a metal bat under the counter like you knew this would gonna happen and check around, especially every closed door inside the house. You already watched too many horror movies with Randy that you even know where the killer always comes out from.
“I ask you want more time. What the hell do you want from me?”
“You wanna know, you have to play the game with me.”
You jumped when you heard another banging. And this time, at your backyard.
“Knock. Knock.”
You gulped and took a glimpse at your back. As you saw nobody's there, you pressed your back on the wall and focused on the front door.
“Who’s there?”
You make sure all the doors and windows are already locked as your father went out training with his buddies. He says he will be coming home late.  
Double. Shit.
“Johnny.” 
You innerly scoffed. Oh he likes this game too much. 
“Johnny where?”
“Clever girl. Guess.”
You rushed to the front door and took a look outside from the window. No one was there. You blurted out the answer.
“The backyard.”
“Wrong.”
You shrieked as the sound of a crash came out from the living room. You ran there to see a big gape hole at your now shattered window. You scanned the whole room. Only one wooden chair and shattered glass all over the floor. 
He couldn’t make it inside that fast. You raised the phone as you heard his voice.
“I give you a second chance. Knock, knock.”
“Oh fuck you with your knock knock shit game! What do you want from me?!”
“I want you…to ride me.”
You inhaled sharply at his answer as you turned around with a bat raised in front of you. 
“You’re messing with the wrong person here.” You spitted. He chuckled mockingly, amazed that you still have a bit of spite even though you know you're about to lose the game.
“You should be asking where I am, (Y/N).” He enunciated your name deeply.
Sweat trickle down your temple as you took a step back one at the time. This stranger knowing your name just shot up your nerve haywire.
“Where the fuck are you shithead.” 
“Behind you.”
You turned around and hit the phone right to the side of his face.
His Ghostface leather mask to be exact. 
He covered his head from the hit with his gloved hand and you took that opportunity to bash his head with your metal bat. He doubles in pain as you hit his back with more force and knocks his feet to the floor. He lay on his back, gripping his back painfully as you stepped on his body.
“Now let’s see who's behind the mask.”
Before you could bend down to grab his mask, the air got knocked out from you as someone rammed from your side. Your head got slam on the floor hard followed by a body that stumbled right above you. 
There’s two of them?!
You tried to pry him off from you but it was no use. You could see from your blurred vision that two masked men were now crowded right in front of you. 
The first guy above your head took both of your hands and held them tight, giving out a painful moan from you, while the other one sat on top of your low waist between his thighs, securing your legs from moving.
You tried to trash your body only to feel a sharp knife under your throat. You looked up to see the second guy shaking his head. 
A warning.
“Looks like you lost the game.” Second ghostface seems satisfied seeing you beneath him. The knife in his hand trailed lower and lower to your neck. You could feel a prick of pain as the knife cut deep at your collarbone.
“Losers need to pay the price.” The first ghostface giggled, bringing out a rope from his black robe and tied your hand above your head.
“Two against one? Really fair, does it?” You gritted your teeth. Even though you’re already at their mercy, your mouth still runs like a goddamn sailor.
“Didn’t know this should be a fair game.” Second ghostface shrugged, still lingering his knife around your neck area. 
“So what? You gonna kill me?” 
“Careful, you shouldn’t challenge a killer with a knife. Now you said it, that does sound tempting.” The killer dragged down his knife to your waist. The cold of his blade sent chills down your spine as it put pressure on your stomach, emphasizing his words.
You gulped as you eyed the two ghostface. The one that sat on top of you seems like a person you don’t want to mess with. The way his voice held authority, meaning if he wants to kill you, he’ll make sure you’re good as dead. Even though he’s wearing a mask, you could feel his hot gaze on your throat to your collarbone that already bleed out from the small cut. His gloved hand reached out, smearing your oozing blood with his thumb. He loves it, you can tell.    
Another one above your head, however he's a different kind of persona. He seems to like goofing around and having fun stabbing his victim. More sadistic, more of an unhinged bastard. If he takes his mask off, you bet he'll be that funny, easy going guy. His head tilted to the side, staring at your body in awe. Like you'll become his biggest meal tonight.
"But since you beat my friend here, I'll give you a chance. If you want to live, you need to do something for me." He hinted at the end of his sentence. The first Ghostface started to laugh hysterically. 
Somehow you know what he meant, knowing what they're gonna do to you.
"What do you mean?" You shuddered.
In a split second, he pulled your body and switched position, making you on top of him. You could feel the bulge between your legs as his hands gripped your waist.
"You know what I meant."
Your whole body shivered in fear and excitement. You don’t know why your body react that way. Fear, yes but also excites you?
You already soaked in your panties, though it was the adrenaline of the chase.
You subtly rubbed yourself on his groin. He sighed in content as you kept rubbing his hard on. 
“That’s it, babe.” His breath ragged as both his hands moved your hips and pressed deeper to his crotch. His hips thrust to your core, making you let out a soft moan. 
You feel someone's hand held the back of your head, turning you to meet the first Ghostface. His gloves were already gone from both hands, as he’s working on to half-done his zipper jeans.
“Open your mouth, kitten." He slipped his thumb, pressing your lips to open. He inserted two fingers in and out as you swirl your tongue around his fingers. They were so long that you gagged as it reached at the back of your throat. When he pulled out his fingers, a string of saliva coated them.
“I’ve never done this before.” Your face was red, embarrassing to admit that you never had sex before.
“We know you’re a virgin.” He whispered. His thumb stroking your lower lip, his mask titled to the side.
“Don't worry about that. We promise to make you feel good, m'okay?" The Ghostface under you sat up, his hand tugged teasingly at your waistband while the other one caressed your cheek. His deep voice is surprisingly tender, luring you in like a moth to his flame.
Without thinking, you nodded at his words.
Beneath those masks, their smirk grew wider, finally getting you hooked with them. 
"Lift your hips for me, baby." 
He tore his gloves from his hands and guided your hips upward. As you stand on your knees, he tugged down your shorts and panties in one go. You gasped at how rough, desperate he wanted to strip you naked. 
He took out his knife and started to rip them in half. You shiver from the cold as your clothes discard aside.
A pair of hands from behind reach out to your breast and fondle them. You whimpered as he pulled and squeezed your nipples. Another hand slipped to your wet cunt, thumb circling your clit.
"Gosh, your pussy is so wet for us. We're just getting started." He mused. Slowly, he inserted two fingers inside you, thumb still rubbing your clit. You shuddered, your back laid on someone's chest, who still continued grasping your breast.
"Look at you, seeking pleasure from two psychotic serial killers. Ain't ya a dirty little slut." The one from behind cackled in manic, enjoying seeing you completely vulnerable for him.
You subconsciously ride your hips with his fingers inside you, reaching your high. Your tied arms pressed in front of his chest as his friend from behind starts to dry hump your ass. You could imagine how big their dicks are, one pressing from the back while the other one underneath your pussy, still finger fuck you.
As if they knew you're about to come, he pulled out his fingers. You let out a small whine, feeling the loss of your pussy to be filled. He dip his finger beneath his mask, groaning in pleasure as he tasted your juices with a mix of blood.
Your hair got clutched from behind and dived you to his tent. When he pulled down his boxer, you were awestruck at how thick and veiny his hard rod is. He tapped his dick on your mouth, precum smeared at your lower lips.
"Like what you see?" He chuckled, seeing you looking at his cock like that got him more turned on. 
You flustered, eyeing the two black holes resemble eyes staring at you, silently to gain his permission. He nodded, pushing his tip further into your lips.
You subtly open your mouth, licking his precum and heard his deep groan in return. This made you sucked and licked his tip and moved your hand up and down his length.
He tilted his head back. Though you couldn't see with his mask on, a sense of pride grew in you, pleased to see him feel that way.
"You're sure this is your first time? Fuck, this feels amazing." He bucked his hips in your mouth.
"Open your mouth wide open, tongue down. I'm a deep throat till you swallow all of my cum." You do as he said. He thrust his dick deep in your throat, making you gagged but you held it in. 
He fucked your mouth relentless, both his hands keeping you in place. Tears pooling down your face as saliva spilling from your mouth until your nose touches his pelvis. You tapped his thigh, coughing up when he pulled out his dick from your swollen lips.
You're too focused on the man in front of you, that your ass was raised in the air and gasped as you felt a tongue licking at your entrance.
"Damn I can eat this pussy all day." He growled from behind, licking and biting your clit. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as his tongue does wonders to you. 
You gagged as he pounds in and out of your mouth, while from behind a tongue lick deep in your entrance. His nose teasing your clit, earning you a moan vibrating through the dick in your mouth. Both of them release low moans, reaching their high.
You tap his thigh, pull you away from his dick as you feel a knot in your stomach.
"I-I some-something d-down there." You cried out, feel his friend's wet tongue thrust in and out of your cunt. You gasped from sensation, as he's licked your rim hole.
"Then cum all over his mouth, princess. Let him taste every drop." He strokes his dick as you stick your tongue out to his tip. You feel your release as the man behind lapping your juices clean.
"God, she tastes so good. I wanna fuck her wet cunt till she's scream."
The killer in front of you didn't say a word, staring at his friend 
"You can't have her. She beat you up, remember?"
"The fuck that's supposed to mean? We won, she lost."
"Correction, you get beat to a pulp and I'm the one stopping it. So, I get the prize and you just, I don't know. Enjoy the show?"
"I'm already hard and you’re telling me just to watch you all over her? Hell no man!" 
They way they're talking about you like you aren't there bothers you, but at the same time kind of hot.
You could tell his friend was frustrated, agitated while him with you on his lap stroking his tip to your folds. You whimpered as he nudged his face mask closer to your neck. You could feel his wet tongue licking and sucking at the cut he gave you. 
Deep down you know your choice terrifies you but you don't want his friend left behind.
"There's two holes for a reason, ya know." You mumbled low, but somehow both killers caught on to what you said. They both were stunned. Not long after, the one you sit on his lap snickered darkly.
"You're one dirty little virgin. Didn't know you're into that." He gripped your hips closer to his already hard crotch. You blushed at his indication.
Truth is, you stumbled upon a porn magazine from Stu's wardrobe, asking you for his sweatpants as he was in the bathroom. Curiosity kills you when you open the magazine, the page showed a blond woman penetrated by two men, dick in her cunt while another in her ass.
The image haunted you yet deep down you want to know how it feels like, to get banged by two. As you stare at her lustful face, you jump when you hear Billy's voice from outside Stu's room. So, you threw away the magazine and hastily grabbed his shorts. When Billy enters the room, he stares at you intensely. He always does every time you're in his sight. He raised an eyebrow as you gave the shorts, muttered, "Give it to Stu, he wants it." and you made a mad dash out of his room.
You know for the fact that the chances you're getting DP is slim to none. But seeing as of now, your fuzzy brain was like why not.
"You're an angel, you know that? That's why you're perfect for us." The frustrated Ghostface was now like he's in cloud nine when you told him that, hugging you from behind.
"You're meant for us, (Y/N). Remember that." The one with you on his lap was now laying down on the floor, bringing you with him so that your pussy was placed right on his outstretched cock. As his tip penetrated your entrance, you whimpered as the slight discomfort got you. As your tied arms gripped the black cloth of his front, his hand teasing your clit, trying to distract you from the pain.
As he is completely inside you, the discomfort was replaced slowly with pleasure, fullness from his thick length. His sighed in relief, loving his dick snug deep in your pussy like a vice.
"Fuck you're so tight, baby." He rasped as he helped adjust his length inside you. When he felt you ready, he slowly thrust in and out of you, making you moan.
"You like that? You like riding this cock?" His slow thrust became erratic as he rammed your throbbing cunt. Your mouth gaped open, couldn't reform words when he hit you at the right spot. 
"Y-yes, right there. Shit! You're so big." You uttered breathlessly, bouncing his dick as he thrust deeper in you. 
As you ride him, you feel another one trying to penetrate your asshole. You jumped at the sudden intrusion, stopping you as he continued to push in, hissing at your shoulder.
"S-shit! My cock gonna cut in half if you keep squeezing me like that." He buried his face on your neck as he roughly thrust you in one go, making you scream.
"M'sorry babe. Can't help it."
You try to glare at his face, or more precisely his mask. You could imagine his stupid grin, staring at you adoringly. 
This is too much. For you, a virgin and never been fuck let alone anal, this is a lot to take in. You could feel their dicks stretched inside every hole of you down there. You try adjusting to this new stimulation. They’re both moving in sync, in and out of you, feeling both of their dicks rubbing your wall one at the time. It makes you see stars as they fasten their phase.
Skin slapping filled the room, with your moan and their groan in a mix.
“Fuck fuck fuck I’mma cum!” You feel his hand gripping your hips as his thrust turns sloppy. Your body started to shake as the one beneath encircled his arms around you, keeping you close to his chest as he slammed you hard on your g-spot. 
You nearly scream from pleasure as orgasm washed over you, followed by the one behind, pumping his seed into your throbbing asshole. Your pussy tightens is all it needs from the one beneath you to paint his cum on your walls. 
He gave his one hard, second thrust at your asshole then pulled out his softened cock. The way he stared at his cum spilling from your ass stirred something inside him.
His fingers subconsciously slipped his overflow cum inside your hole. For some reason, he doesn’t want a single drop of his seed leaking out of you.
You take a deep inhale as your eyes flutter close, trying to calm from your euphoric state. You could hear his heartbeat thumping as your head laid on his chest, with him too catching his breath.
The only thing you remember is feeling a peck on your forehead and a kiss from your nape, with a deep raspy voice you manage to hear before exhaustion overtook your body.
“That’s my good girl.”
After you pass out…
“Man, that’s the best thing happen in my life!” Stu sighed, satisfied as he pulled off his Ghostface mask and slipped in his now soft dick in his pants. He looked over at his friend who was still lying on the ground with their favorite girl on top of him.
“You're lucky I came up with this plan. Knew it our girl had same fantasies like us.” He grinned, smiling like an idiot, while Billy too slowly took off the mask.
“If you didn’t pull out that porn magazine, she wouldn’t even think about it, genius.” He murmured as he stroked your arm. He sighed in relief with his eyes closed, hearing your soft snores calmed him.
Maybe they could pay you another visit, and it will be on nice bed this time.
And sure as hell he'll make sure of that.
6K notes · View notes
reidmania · 5 months ago
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inbetween | spencer reid
good riddance x spencer reid one shot series master list
summary ; after months over talking over email, you and spencer finally meet in person.
warnings ; reader & spencer fall in love over emails, meeting in person, insecure reader, insecure spencer, worries about not being enough, pretty much just pure fluff tbh.
an ; in between yall. this song. this is the first oneshot in the good riddance x spencer reid one shot series!! while i waiting for the poll to finish!!
part one, part two, part three
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‘I just can't come between 'em, they got their own thing I wish he'd stop pretendin', he won't let his phone ring. For more than a couple seconds, oh, I think maybe two. two hearts just fallin' in and out of love for somethin' new. ‘i wish that you could see 'em, their faces lighten up their past is cold and empty, they know it's been enough of waitin' on somebody, someone who doesn't care but he knows her name, she knows he'll always be there’
<>
The email rang up at exactly 5:30, exactly when you expected it to. You were sitting at your desk at work, knees pulled to ur chest as you spun on the desk chair. Your coworkers paid no mind to your antics, after working in the safe office for years, with each other. They were used to it by now.
You chewed at your lip as you refreshed your email when the clock changed to exactly 5:30, a wide smile dawned your face when you read the email, you heart ached with longing as your eyes traced over the words on the screen, your stomach tightening and your heart clenching.
Sent from [email protected] at 5:30pm
Hi.
I don’t know when this will send because I’m writing it while on the jet, probably as we get lower and more towards landing, I’ll spare you the scientific details. We only got back from a case this morning, early. Which is why it has taken me so long to reply. Im sorry.
We got a case in Maryland, which I remember you telling me, is where you live. I know I should probably just ask for your phone number but I kind of enjoy the emailing thing. It’s a lot less nerve racking because I can try to pass it off as professional, even though a lot of the time our conversations aren’t.
I actually don’t think we have ever had a professional conversation. Which is a good thing. I really enjoy our conversations no matter what we are talking about. I really enjoy talking to you.
I hope this isn’t too forward but I wanted to know if theres any chance I could see you while I’m in Maryland for this case. I don’t know when it would be or how long I’d be able to see you for, but I do really want to see you. If thats okay with you.
I guess I should give you my number, so you know I’m not some creepy old man. That would be ironic since I work at the FBI and my job is to stop people like that… I don’t know.
Heres my number, 023387677
Love, Spencer.
Your stomach tightened at the idea of seeing him in person. You never admitted it, but you knew he wasn’t an old man, you knew exactly who he was. You made the decision to google his name 6 months ago, when the two of you first started emailing back and forth after he accidentally sent a work email to the wrong person and you replied. It started as just telling him he had sent it to the wrong person, then he thanked you and apologised and made a joke and then the conversation just flowed.
You had been having conversations with Spencer Reid for six months and you felt like you knew more about him than you did yourself. He told you about his day, and about things he had been through, He opened up to you about his addiction and his mom and you opened up to him about your own trauma and issues.
Spencer Reid was your best friend and you had never met him. You had never even heard his voice. You only had seen his face on google when you searched up ‘Spencer reid FBI’ and a photo came up, he looked younger than you assumed in it, seeing the photo was from a few years ago. You felt slightly bad since you knew he could google you and probably come up empty handed — you had the upper hand.
You look at the clock as it inches closer to six o-clock when you finish work. A boring office job, you often complained to Spencer about. It was ironic since his job literally traumatised him, and yet you complained about the boring desk job, although he never ever compared, he would listen and comfort you after a bad day no matter what, just like you did for him.
You don’t reply to the email he sent as you typed the number he sent into your phone, saving the contact under ‘spence’ The nickname that had developed only weeks into the two of you talking. You send him a text, letting him know it was you, saying hi.
“Phone.” You hear your boss, warning you about using your phone at work, you lift your head an apologetic smile on your face as you close your phone, placing it face down on your desk as you close your email and return to your work after muttering out a sheepish, ‘Sorry!’
Spencer is sitting in a conference room of the police station in Maryland. He didn’t know it but he was only two blocks away from the office you worked. He never usually cared to check his phone while working — nothing could be as important as the case.
Until you, until now.
He found himself hanging out to feel the buzz in his pocket, he found himself checking his phone just in case maybe he missed the message. Just in case you did message.
He also checked his email a lot.
“Whats up with boy wonder?” Derek asked as he spun a chair to sit on it backwards, resting his arms on the back of the chair as he looked around at the other team members. Spencer focus on anything other than the case.
“He gave mystery girl his number” Emily said, patting Spencers shoulder softly to get his attention as she walked past him, placing a coffee down in front of him. Spencer noticed how it was his normal order — despite the fact lately he had been getting your order, after he found out what it was. It made him feel a little bit closer to you.
“Oo, Okay lover boy.” Derek hummed approvingly, raising his eyebrow slightly as he looked down at the boy. Spencer sighed as he let back in his chair, tossing his phone on the table as he checked to get no message. “Nothing yet?” Emily asked, knowing Spencer had been stressing since he sent the email on the jet, nearly two hours ago.
He didn’t know it hadn’t even delivered until a few minutes ago.
“Shes probably just busy” Spencer muttered as he checked his watch for the time. 5:33pm, you’d be at work.
Derek shared a look with Emily, both with teasing smiles on their faces. They had watched Spencer obsess over the girl for the past 6 months, even after he tried to hide it for the first few. He did a horrid job, they all noticed him smiling at his computer and typing away more often than ever, they noticed his focus slight adverted. It took a bit but they eventually got it out of him when you didn’t email him back for a week and he was going insane with worry that maybe you were ghosting him, or that you were hurt.
He confided in his team, you emailed him a few days later saying your wifi went down and none of your emails were going through. He was instantly relieved.
His phone buzzed on the table, 5:35pm. His hand instantly reached out for his phone. His eyes widened and his lip twitched upwards as he read the message that lit his screen.
“And lover boy is in” Derek whispered to Emily, loud enough that Spencer could hear that only ended up in Spencer sending him a glare, before typing out a reply and sending it, asking to call you tonight when he got finished.
“Alright, We got a lead” Hotch said entering the room.
You leant against the back of your head board, your hair wet and dripping down the back of your neck as you waited nervously for call to ring through your phone. You were almost terrified of what the conversation might hold. You were glad you were calling before you agreed or disagreed to meeting him, you could feel out whether or not it might be awkward or not.
You almost jumped out of your skin as your phone started ringing, anxiety pooled in your stomach as your skin flushed hot, causing the drops of water on the back of your neck feel as if it was burning the skin. You reached out for your phone that rested on your bed side table, answering the call.
“Hi.” You muttered out a breath of air. You couldn’t even help but smile as the realisation dawned on you. You were talking to Spencer. Finally, actually talking to him.
You heard a harsh breath on the other side of the phone before some shuffling. “Hold on” He mumbled out, you stomach fluttered at his voice as your teeth sunk into your bottom lip as you bit back a smile.
“Okay.” You said, you heard some more shuffling before the sound of a door closing, then a creek. And then a breath.
“Hi” He settled on, you sat up a bit, crossing your legs as his word came out almost breathy and nervous. It made your chest thump against your ribcage so much it ached. “Sorry— I should’ve waited till I was in my hotel room to call, I was excited— Sorry” He said.
You could hear the nerves in his voice and all it did was make your cheeks beat a rosy hue. “It’s okay. I was nervous” You admit softly, you try to hide the slight embarrassment in your voice but it fails you as your words come out small.
You hear him chuckle. You think the sound genuinely makes your mind fall empty of any coherent thoughts. “You don’t have to be nervous” He spoke so softly as if his words were an exhale he had been holding in.
“But I am” You muttered.
“Me too.” He said honestly. You found comfort in the fact he cared enough about this interaction to be nervous about it. You went to run your hand through your hair but paused with you felt the coldness — it was still very wet from your shower.
“Good” You sighed out, voice almost a whisper. You didn’t know why you were speaking so quietly, there was no one else in your house. There was no reason to be as quiet as you were.
“Is good that I’m nervous?” Spencer asked, you could hear the teasing in his voice. It made your head spin and the words get caught as you shook your head, before remembering he couldn’t see you.
“Yes- No- no. No.” You muttered out, “Its uh- Its not good that your nervous— I- Its just good that you care” You scrambled out, stuttering over your words as you grew flustered. It made you want to turn into your pillow and scream.
You heard him laugh, making your face screw up. “Shut up.” You muttered out as it didn’t take a genius to figure out he was laughing at you scrambling over your words, your free hand came up to cover your face as your cheeks felt on fire.
“No- Im sorry. Im sorry. Of course I care, you know I care” He said softly as he collected his laughter, his voice dripping honesty for a moment as he spoke genuinely in a way that made your knees feel weak — Thank god you weren’t standing. You were silent for a moment as a smile dawned on your face.
“Tell me about your day.” He requested gently. You heard some more shuffling you could only assume he was getting comfortable in bed. You pictured it and it made your stomach burn with longing. Wishing it wasn’t just an image in your head.
And you did, you told him about your day and he told you about yours; the conversation flowed simply and sweetly from then on. He teased you whenever you stuttered over your words, you could hear the smile in his voice as he spoke.
You and him spoke until your voice was quiet and drowsy with sleep, until your eyes were fluttering shut and you went unresponsive for a moment before he asked if you were asleep and you would wake up to the sound of his voice, muttering out a no, to which he would chuckle, and tell you to go to sleep.
When you fell asleep, he waited ten minutes to make sure you were really asleep before hanging up. His heart full as he fell asleep smiling.
Sorry I fell asleep. If i didn’t throw you off completely and you still want to see me, im free any day after 6, when i finish work.
Spencer smiled at the message. The acceptance. You were accepting meeting him, seeing him. He couldn’t fathom the idea of anything you doing ever throwing him off. You had wiggled your way into his chest months ago, and you stayed consuming every part of him everyday since. He didn’t see that changing any day soon, or ever.
He sent you an address to a bar Derek suggested the team going to after work. He didn’t know if maybe it was too forward, or might be awkward with his team there, but at least if it didn’t go well there was people around.
He closed his phone as he waited for your reply, his mind replaying the conversation he had with you last night, how sweet you sounded, how your laugh made his heart clench, how whenever you said his name or spoke a little louder he felt light headed, unable to focus on anything but you.
There was anxiety in his stomach when he realised the two of you never quite talked about what it all meant. What the months of conversation back and forth was. He realised he didn’t know what you wanted. What you expected.
Maybe you just saw him as a friend, maybe to you the conversation is nothing more than friendly. Honestly, if that was the case Spencer didn’t think he would be able to deny you of that. He would do anything to keep you in his life, even if it caused a slight ache in his chest. He had told you things he couldn’t imagine telling anyone else, he trusted you in a way he didn’t know possible, and it may be stupid, maybe naive, but Spencer didn’t care.
The way he felt for you took over any ounce of doubt in his mind, it overtook the insecurity welling in his mind, that maybe you wouldn’t like him, not the way he liked you.
He had never felt so much for a person. He had never felt so much point blank. He could hardly fathom you feeling for him near the amount he felt for you.
Your hands traveled over your jeans softly as your palms grew sweaty as you stepped inside the bar. Thanking the guy you held it open for you as he walked out. You were instantly overwhelmed by the amount of people, the music playing and the people chatting. You probably should have gotten changed first instead of coming straight after work but you were too nervous and didn’t want to give yourself time to dwindle in your insecurities then chicken out.
You manoeuvred your way through the people, quiet apologies leaving your lips as you looked around for Spencer, or anyone who looks like they might be an FBI agent.
What does an FBI agent look like? you thought, as you let out a sigh, finally getting out of the crowd of people as you got to the back of the bar, a lot more free of space. A few people around, standing at tables. You skimmed over for a moment as you tried to catch any glimpse of the boy that you could.
You heard your name, making you spin on your heels. You saw a dark haired girl smiling at you. Well that isn’t spencer.
“Yes?” You said, smiling at her as you tried to hide the anxiety building in your veins. Your hand coming to push hair off your face softly as you try to focus on the girl in front of you. She grins widely, “Spencer is over there, you looked like you were looking for someone…” She said, my smile instantly widened as you looked over to where she nudged her head.
your breath got caught in your throat as your eyes settled on him, the photo didn’t do him justice in any way. His hair was messy and slightly grown out, he was engrossed in a conversation with who you could only assume was Derek Morgan, who Spencer had told you about. His tie was crooked in his suit as he lifted his arm to sip the drink in his hand.
you tear my eyes away as you look at the lady who is smiling at you. “Happy with that?” She asks. It takes you a moment to recognise her as Emily, whom Spencer had also told you about. You can hardly put it into words how your chest feels like its gonna explode as your heart thumps.
“He is gorgeous.” You breathe out, shaking your head as words fail you, your eyes trail back to him for a moment to see him laughing, you see his head turn towards the door, as if he is waiting for you to walk through them.
Emily smiles, patting your shoulder softly, “Cmon Mystery girl” She said, you pay little attention to the nickname as she encourages you to walk towards the table with her. Your legs feel like Jelly with every step that you take, your stomach twisting in the familiar feeling of anxiety.
When she pauses at the table your breath hitches. “Oi Reid” She mutters, both he and Derek turns their head towards her, “Look who I found” She says softly, hand brushing over your shoulder.
Spencers eyes skip over to yours and you watch an emotion pull his features. An emotion you can’t quite place and it makes your stomach ache at the uncertainty, insecurity creeping up the back of your neck.
“Hi” You breathe out as you look at him. Theres a moment of silence before he is pushing away from the table and walking around to you. His arms around you the moment you are in reach and it makes your muscles tense slightly before relaxing completely in his hold as you wrap your arms around his neck, hugging him back.
Emily and Derek watch in amusement for a moment, smiling when they see the look on Spencer’s face. The one you couldn’t place the one they knew all too well.
He was in love.
He was in love before seeing you, he knew that but watching you stand there grinning at him made him all the more sure about it. His hand rested on your waist as he pulled back from the hug to look at your face.
“Hi” He whispered back.
You chewed at your lip at you bit back the wide smile that tried to force its way into your features. His hand traveled up to your face before he could stop it hand cupping your face gently.
You eased, leaning into his touch the warmth of his hand feeling gentle against the soft skin of your cheek. “Y-You- I- Hi.” He stuttered this time.
You grinned, “Cat got your tongue?” You ask, teasing him like he would every-time you stuttered over the phone. He just grins in response.
“No. You’re beautiful” He said, eyes dancing over your face, he looked at you like he was trying to memories every little detail. Your stomach tightens and your knees felt weak as the compliment left his mouth. You had been told that before, but it felt different coming from him. He said it with honesty and sincerity.
“So are you” You said back before hugging him tightly again. He didn’t complain at all, instead his arms fell tightly around your waist as he held you against him, as if he was scared that if he let go you would disappear.
The night went on, you stayed by spencer’s side, his hand on yours or around your shoulder gently as if he couldn’t get enough of the feeling of you being next to him. You never complained — you took it all as a compliment and leant into his touch.
“Are you cold?” Spencer asked as you and him walked outside of the bar, hand in hand. he noticed the way you shivered as the cold hair hit the skin of your bare arms. You turn your head to look up at him, the look in his eye enough to make your chest clench around the fat of your heart.
“A little” You admit. It was nothing you couldn’t handle, but spencer was instantly pulling off his suit jacket for you, slugging it gently over your shoulders as the two of you walked down the street. You paused in your steps as you looked up at him.
“Thank you.” You say.
“Its okay- I don’t want you to be cold” He said softly. You couldn’t help but smile at his kindness, but you shook your head. “For that too— But I meant, for asking to see me. Thank you for thinking of me when you heard about where the case was — for talking to me everyday. Thank you for being my best friend Spence” You said softly as you lean against your car as you and him stop in front of it.
His lip twitches upwards into a smile as his hand drops yours instead resting softly on your lips. “I always think of you.” He admits, eyes on yours.
Your breath gets caught in the back of your throat. “Spencer.” You say softly.
He looks at you, really looks at you. He is seeing you. He is seeing every little thing you have told him over the last six months, every little detail about you there was to know, and all he could think about was he wanted more, he wanted to know you more.
“Yeah?” He says, his voice a whisper.
You feel anxiety pool in your stomach as the question lingers on the tip of your tongue. There was a pull towards him you couldn’t ignore, the same pull you felt when you received his email, six months, 2 weeks and 3 days ago. You’d count the hours but you figured that was more his style.
“You can say no, I want you to know that” You said, you wanted to make it perfectly clear that his response to this was completely up to him and you didn’t want to feel pressured. “Can I kiss you?” You ask.
His lips are on yours before you can even finish the question. One hand of his travelling to the small of your back to bring you in closer while the other tangles in your hair, cradling the back of your neck. Your hands instantly cup his face as you press your lips against him. Your lips together saying more than words ever could.
This, right here, him, right now.
It was everything and more.
2K notes · View notes
hyunniesgirl · 1 year ago
Text
I wanna be yours
Pairing: Bangchan x fem!reader
Summary: it was all a game to him, until all he could think about was you. He wanted to have all of you. Ruin all of you. Love all of you.
Or, the one where Chan is a cocky asshole who's going out with you just for fun and ends up falling in love.
Slightly inspired in the movie 10 things I hate about you.
Genres: angst, smut, fluff
Words count: 10,991
Masterlist
This content is +18 ONLY, minors do NOT interact!
Warnings: Corruption kink(kinda), dry humping, fingering, blowjob, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, pet names(princess, baby), Chan is cocky as fuck(and I'm here for it, stan cocky Bangchan), reader gets kinda insecure close to the end(let me know if I missed something)
A/N: should I be answering my requests or updating my series? Yes, did I spend too much time in a super long self indulgent oneshot? I did. It was supposed to be just smut with corruption kink 😭 turns out I can't write the porn without the plot.
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It all started as a game for him. He just didn't guess how much you would mess with his head.
Bang Chan doesn't care much about college, with a promising career in music, he's just attending classes so his parents won't nag him too much.
That means he's bored all the time.
So when Jeongin, his youngest friend, begged him to win his girlfriend's sister over and date her for a bit, he almost accepted right away, yearning for some fun. But he didn't, not before knowing who you were.
That's how he ended up here, trying to find you in the middle of communication class. He didn't need to look too much, from Jeongin’s description, he could find you in the blink of an eye.
“A pretty girl, probably wearing black or some neutral color and she'll probably be in a corner. She's very shy, when you speak to her don't be too straightforward, you may scare her”
The way Jeongin described you didn't show any ill intent and he was always a good guy, that's why Chan considered accepting his offer in the first place. He must have his reasons for almost kneeling in front of his friend, asking for him to date you.
Chan sits behind you, observing every movement you make. You're indeed pretty and you really are shy. He notices how you want to raise your hand every time the professor asks a question, but you always hesitate and someone speaks over you. Every time you try to speak, some rude person cuts you and instead of getting mad, your face turns red and you shrink in your seat, trying to make yourself even more invisible.
There's something about you, Chan can't tell what it is, but it's something amusing about how you behave. Someone like you could have every guy in this university wrapped around your little finger and every girl wanting to be your friend.
As soon as the class ends, Chan sends a text to Jeongin, telling him he will do it. He doesn't waste time, waiting for everyone to get out of the classroom while you're still collecting your things.
“Hey”, he says out of nowhere, making you jump and look at him with huge doe eyes. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you”.
He kinda did want that, though, curious to see how you would react, he thought maybe you would raise your voice and curse him, but you reacted as calmly as possible.
“It's okay”, you mumble.
You keep organizing your things, trying to ignore his presence.
“So, I wanted to ask if you can let me borrow your notes”, he asks, making puppy eyes.
You turn back to him and Chan can almost see the gears turning inside your head.
“Why does he want my notes if he just attended the same class?” It's written all over your face.
“I pulled an all nighter studying for another class and kind of dozed off earlier”, he lies, smiling sheepishly while scratching the back of his neck.
You stare at him for a bit, pondering if you should say yes, actually, let's be real: can you even say no?
This is Bang Chan, handsome and popular, everyone knows him and the other two guys from 3racha. The last you heard, he didn't care much about classes since he's already progressing in his music career so you still don't understand why he wants to borrow your notes.
“Yeah, okay”, you nod, deciding to agree so this conversation can be over soon. You pull your notebook out of your bag and hand it to him. “Just make sure to give it back by next class”
“Sure, thanks”, he gives you a big bright smile that makes you gulp while staring at him, just a few minutes in his presence and you already know something very important: this man is dangerous.
You look around awkwardly, not knowing what Chan wants more. He's just standing there, staring at you.
“I'll get going then”, you sigh, feeling exhausted by this whole interaction.
You turn around, walking to the door, leaving Chan there, dumbstruck. Jeongin was right, you have no social skills, but you're much more entertaining than he made you out to be.
You're having lunch with Yuna, your sister, and Jeongin, her boyfriend, in the cafeteria. You like spending time with them, they are probably the only people you feel comfortable around in this university.
You met Jeongin three months ago. Your sister came home giggling like a child on Christmas, sat on your bed and told you she got a boyfriend.
You ran to your door, closing it after checking that your parents weren't around. There's only one rule in the house: your younger sister must not date before you do.
Your parents are not conservative or anything like that, they just had you two later than other parents, so they are very overprotective. You don't know exactly the reason why they set this rule, maybe it's because they are sure you're never going to date.
Yuna is your best friend, she was a sickly child so all those interactions and fights that normal sisters have, you didn't. You spent most of her childhood and a huge part of yours by her side in the hospital. Fortunately, she was able to go back to a normal life by the time she was becoming a teenager, she was always a social butterfly even in the hospital everyone loved her.
You always thought it was unfair that she had to wait to have a boyfriend simply because you are not interesting enough or can't even hold a conversation properly without stuttering, but there was nothing you could do about it. You even tried arguing with your parents about it but it always ended with them telling you to forget about it.
You see Jeongin waving to someone, something is off, they never invite anyone to eat with them. A tray is settled by your side and you look at the person who sits in the seat next to yours: Bang Chan.
“Hello again”, he smiles at you, a handsome smile with dimples showing and everything. He greets the others after.
You look at Yuna and Jeongin, she is frowning just like you and her boyfriend is eating like this is an ordinary situation in your daily lunch.
“Hi”, you sister answers, “I don't think we met before”
“Oh, yeah, I'm Bang Chan!” He stretches his hand so she can shake it. “Jeongin is an old friend and I have communication class with y/n”
“Ah”, she nods, looking at her boyfriend. You stay in silence, playing with your food, waiting for Jeongin to send Bang Chan away.
“Babe, I forgot I have a project due tonight”, Jeongin says, slapping the palm of his hand on his forehead. He stands up, “can you help me? Chan will keep y/n company.”
No. You don't want him to keep you company. Your eyes widen and you stare at your sister, trying to send her a mental signal so she won't let you alone with him.
What you don't see, it's that she has already caught up on the way Bang Chan is looking at you and she might think she understands what's happening.
“Okay, yeah. Take care of her”, your sister says, smiling apologetically to you while she gets up and follows Jeongin out of your sight.
You should just throw your food away and go to the library, maybe you can eat a sandwich.
“Would you like to go on a date with me?” You hear Bang Chan's voice before you can put your plan into practice, turning around to look at him with the most terrified face he ever saw on someone. “Ouch, does the idea scare you so much?” He jokes.
“Why would you want to go on a date with me? We just met yesterday”, you point out, holding yourself back so you won't just stand up and run away.
“I find you interesting, it's just a date so we can get to know each other better”, he shrugs. He's so nonchalant about it, while you're freaking out inside.
“I don't think that's a good idea, I'm not good at keeping conversations, you'll get bored”, you say frantically. You just didn't expect him to laugh.
“I can do all the talking, I love to talk"
Chan knows this move is risky and there's a high probability you won't accept, but he just felt like asking you at that moment.
“Are you sure you won't get bored?” You ask.
His eyes widen and he nods, are you really considering it?
You are, obviously. You bet no one could ever guess, but Bang Chan is your ideal type, actually he is probably everyone's ideal type.
He has the kindest smile you have ever seen and the way his eyes turn into crescents when he's smiling makes your legs weak. He met you yesterday, but you know him since 3racha performed in the university’s festival last year. Since the first time you two crossed paths, everything about him, appearance wise, seemed appealing: his dark eyes, his smile, his dark curls, his broad shoulders and his muscular body. That's why you freaked out so much when he spoke to you yesterday, you never thought he would give you the time of day. So you would be dumb to reject his offer.
“Okay”, you nod, handing your phone to him. “You can put your number there, I'll text you so you can save my contact”, you say and he stares at the device for a few moments before picking it up and typing his number.
This was easier than he thought.
“Do you have pepper spray with you?” Your mother asks for the 30th time in the last hour.
“Yes, mom. I'm going on a date with another student, he's not a criminal”, you tell her and your father tsks.
“There are alot of students that commit crimes”, he says.
“I know”, you sigh, “don't worry, I have pepper spray, emergency numbers and I'll turn on my localization”
Your sister is watching the scene unfolding in front of her, while she chuckles.
“You shouldn't laugh, if I start dating you will go through the same thing when it's your time”, you whisper at her and she sighs.
“You're not going to this date just so I can officially date Jeongin, right?”
You grin.
“You think too highly of me, I'm not that selfless”, you hear the sound of a horn in front of your house, “I'm going on this date because he's hot”
Chan thought you were pretty in your everyday clothes but after seeing you ready for your date he just couldn't take his eyes off you. You're wearing a little sundress with thin straps holding your much too generous and low cleavage. Your hair is down and your lips are red with lipstick.
He's waiting for you outside of the car so he can open the door for you, but when you stop in front of him, he just doesn't move.
You frown, waving a hand in front of his face.
“Are you okay?” You ask and he snaps out of his daze.
“Yeah, you're just too pretty”, he tells you honestly, “I just couldn't believe I'm so lucky”
You feel your skin hotter, you're sure your whole face must be red like a tomato.
The restaurant you are going to have dinner at is a bit further than you thought, it takes at least one hour by car to get there.
“Were all the places close to the city closed?” You try making a joke and he smiles.
“Considering your personality, I thought you would like this place better”, he tells you while you go in. A person greets you two, leading you inside. There's no open space, the building is full of rooms and you're guided to one of those. There's a glass wall in the back of the room with a view to a lake and a waterfall, there's colorful lights everywhere, making it even more beautiful.
“So, when I was searching for a nice place to go on a date, I came across this one.” Chan starts speaking and you notice there's a small stove on top of the table. “There's no attendants, so we will cook our own food and only call them if we want more servings”, he explains, pulling the chair so you can sit.
“Oh”, you feel a weird feeling on your stomach, are these the butterflies your sister told you about? You never knew something like this existed and the fact that he was attentive enough to take your shyness into consideration while choosing the place of your date makes you melt inside. “Thank you”, you tell him after sitting.
You don't shut up the whole night. This is the first time you feel so comfortable with someone other than your family.
“So, you want to work with entertainment?” He asks surprised.
“Yes, I really like the whole thing about managing an artist, it sound exciting”, you smile happily, “who knows, maybe one day I can manage 3racha”
“You have heard 3racha?” Chan asks, surprised.
“I really like your music”, you tell him, “besides, everyone knows about you guys”
“Yeah, but I didn't know you knew about us”, he smiles charmingly, leaning on the table while clasping his hands. “So does that win me some points? Maybe a kiss?”
You already are red because of the wine, now you feel your whole face hot. You're already feeling a bit out of it, not drunk enough to make a bad decision but definitely drunk enough to lose a bit of your shyness.
“I don't know how to kiss”, you say simply, no further explanation.
Chan almost chokes on the air he just breathed, he didn't think you would be so blunt about it. Curiously, he finds your innocent face while saying that too enticing.
“I can help you with that”, he says, tilting his head and winking.
“Would you really?” You ask and he nods. “Like now?”
Chan didn't expect that to happen so soon, especially with someone as shy as you. But he won't refuse your offer.
“Are you done?” He asks, eagerly, standing up and you nod. Chan stretches his hand to you, waiting for you to hold it.
He takes you to his car, helping you get in and fastening your seatbelt. He's not in his right mind, not at all, he didn't even drink so why is he so excited? He doesn't think he ever felt this way about a kiss. He drives for a while, looking for the drive in movie theater he had read about while looking for the restaurant.
After fifteen minutes he parks his car behind others, there are a lot of people there to watch the movie.
You have your hands on your lap, fidgeting with your fingers nervously. It's so endearing how innocent you are.
“Would you like to take a seat?” He asks and you frown, looking around and then looking at him. You are already seated.
He tilts his head, chuckling and patting his lap. You nod so fast, it's embarrassing. He smiles, seeing you climb on top of him, legs are over the cup holder, you're using him as a literal seat.
“You never kissed anyone?” He asks, while you adjust yourself on top of him, his breath hitting your neck, making goosebumps rise all over your body. You shake your head, feeling a bit insecure, what if you are no good?
Chan bites on his lower lip, shifting a bit so you won't feel his hardening cock under you, you're just too cute, too sexy.
“Okay, I'll go slowly, we can stop anytime you want”, he tells you, brushing his hand on your arm all the way to your neck, making you close your eyes to his touch. He pulls your face closer, touching your lips with his, it's warm and soft, it feels like heaven.
He brings his other hand to your cheek, caressing. He pulls back a bit, just enough so he can speak.
“Open your mouth for me, baby”, he tells you and you obey instantly, feeling his lips back on yours. His tongue brushes against yours and you whine, lifting your hands to grab on his shoulders to steady yourself, causing your ass to rub on his cock. Chan groans, making you flinch, did you do something wrong?
He notices your hesitancy, so he slides his hand to your waist, squeezing you in reassurance.
“Are you sure you have never done this?” He asks playfully and you smile, shyly.
“Can- Can we do it again?” You whisper, making him chuckle. Dear god, would he be able to stop this with just kisses?
“Did you like kissing me, princess?” He teases, seeing you blush. Chan wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you even closer. He lands a kiss on your exposed collarbone, tracing kisses up to your neck.
“You smell so good”, he tells you before leaving a kiss on your jaw, then on your chin and finally a peck on your lips.
“Must taste even better”, he thinks, smiling to himself.
Your phone starts ringing, taking you two out of that hazy atmosphere. You feel embarrassed now, not believing you actually acted that way. Going back to your seat, you pick up the call, it's Yuna.
“Mom and dad are freaking out because you stopped moving for too long”, she whispers. Shit, you forgot your localization was turned.
“Tell them you called Chan and I'm alright, my phone just died”, you instruct her.
“Yeah, got it, just hurry”
Chan probably heard the conversation, but you still feel upset that he started the car right away and drove fast back to your home.
When you arrive in front of your house, you're not sure if you should kiss him goodnight or just wave, both are awkward options for you, so you go with the one you want the most.
You grab his arm and pull him closer to you, kissing him on the lips. Chan is quite surprised with your bold action, but he won't complain, he can't get enough of your lips.
“I will text you when I get home”, he says after pulling away and you nod.
You get out of the car and walk to your door, stealing glances at Chan. He's giggling at your antics, watching until you are safe inside your house.
He should be thankful to Jeongin, he's finally having a good time.
Chan is taking his mission seriously, he's texting you everyday and even stopped seeing all his fuck buddies. This is the closest he ever got to a relationship, but you're not official yet.
Especially not when you're avoiding him like the plague when it comes to meeting face to face. You answer his texts normally but he has to literally hunt you down so he can find you in this damn university and if you see him before he sees you, it's game over, you'll hide immediately and he has to begin his search all over again.
This time, though, he caught you off guard. You are at the library, seated alone, trying to focus on the book you have in your hands.
He smiles to himself, knowing you can't escape anymore. Chan leans over, caging your body with his two hands around you, gripping the table.
“I missed you, baby”, he whispers and you shiver, feeling butterflies on your stomach.
“H-hi”, you say, closing your book and taking a deep breath.
You will not try and pretend you didn't hide from him for almost a week. But that's not your fault, it's your brain's.
After Chan left you home, you ran to your room, still feeling all tingly and hot from kissing him. Since Yuna didn't come to your room you guessed she was already asleep, so you took your makeup off, took a long bath and snuggled in your nice sheets.
The thing is: you had the most lewd, filthy, awfully good dream that night. You could never even say the things Chan did to you in that dream out loud.
You woke up sweaty, heavy breathing and panties soaked, this never happened to you before.
You just couldn't look at his face after that, you felt dirty and guilty with having those thoughts about such a nice guy.
“Am I wrong or were you avoiding me?” He asks, not moving from behind you.
“No- I wasn't”, you turn around to look at him, bumping into his face too close from yours. He glances at your lips, biting his lower one and chuckles. “I was just, hm, kinda embarrassed”, you tell him, aware that he's going to know right away if you try lying.
“Embarrassed about what?” He asks, tilting his head.
“I don't know”, you look away, trying not to give in and tell him about your dream.
“I think you should come to my place so we can talk about it”, he says and you choke on your own spit, struggling to function correctly. Did he just ask you to go to his house? Just you? And him? Just the two of you?
The apartment is not far from the campus, it's a maximum twenty minutes walk. The building is nice and modern, it absolutely matches what you had imagined Chan’s place would look like.
His apartment is huge, it's not possible that he lives there alone.
“I have three roommates, Jisung and Changbin you already know and Hyunjin, he's an arts major”
“Hwang Hyunjin? I know him, he's friends with my sister”, Chan nods, he forgot your sister dates Jeongin, she probably knows his entire group of friends.
“Do you want to drink something?” He asks, looking at you while you walk around the living room, looking at every corner but not at him.
“Water is fine”, you say, looking at some pictures he has with his friends. He always has that breathtaking smile that makes all your insides turn around.
“What about watching a movie?” He asks out of nowhere, sitting on the sofa. He looks at you, an arm resting on the back of the sofa.
“Sure”, you walk to him, sitting on the far corner. Chan has to bite back a laugh so you won't feel embarrassed, do you really think it's so easy for you to get away from him?
He turns on the movie, adjusting himself on his seat. You're really trying to pay attention to what's going on on the screen, but you just can't. Not when Chan's scent is all over the place, making you remember about your dirty dream.
He knows you're restless, he can see you fidgeting by his peripheral vision.
“Are you uncomfortable?” He asks, turning his head towards you, with a smirk plastered on his lips. “Maybe you can sit here again, I'm sure you are going to like it better”, he pats on his lap.
You feel your face red.
“Stop teasing”, you mumble, pouting, “that's not nice”
He chuckles. If you're not coming to him, he has no problem going to you, so Chan slides his body closer, making you stare at him with a frown.
He raises his hand to your face, cupping it and caressing your cheek.
“Tell me you don't want this, princess, I'll stop”, he says. But you want this more than anything in the world, how could you not?
You lean a bit, trying to close the gap between your mouths. Oh, how much Chan missed your soft lips, he felt almost like going through a withdrawal staying so long without kissing you.
You learn fast, your mouth opens right away after your lips touch. In a bold move, your tongue is the one to look for his first, making him groan. He puts his right hand on your thigh, squeezing it harder than he predicted, but he didn't predict the bite you would give on his lip at that exact moment.
Chan grabs your hip, pulling you up to his lap, this time with a leg on each side of him. You're looking at him in that innocent way when all he has on his mind are the dirtiest thoughts. He caresses your thigh, sliding his hand to grab your ass and pulling you closer to him.
“Will you tell me now, why you were embarrassed? You looked pretty fine when I left you home after our date”, he asks and you blush instantly, oh, you forgot about the reason you are here. You can't tell him about your dream, you'll die of embarrassment if you do.
“It was- nothing”, you lie, avoiding his eyes. Chan noticed this already, you always look anywhere but him when you are lying to him.
Maybe he'll have to make you tell the truth.
“Really?” He says, skeptical. “Then you were just being mean? Playing with my feelings after just one date?” He's teasing, he knows you'll give in eventually, it's just a question of time.
“No, I wasn't”, you argue, with a frown on your face, your lips shut tight in a pout.
“Baby”, he calls, your legs would definitely give out if he called you like that while you were standing. “I don't like liars”
Chan slides his hands up to your ass, grabbing a handful and pulling you closer. You can already feel something hard beneath you, making you shift and adjust on his lap, involuntarily seeking some friction. Your core is aching, just by staying so close to him.
“I'm not lying, that's mean”, you try changing the subject and he chuckles.
Chan comes closer, lips brushing against yours, his breathing hitting on your mouth, everything just making the wet spot on your panties grow bigger and bigger. He kisses you, a nice and soft kiss with his tongue caressing yours gently.
Chan notices that you're moving your hips slightly, trying to feel his cock. He smiles during the kiss, pulling away while putting his hands on your hips, guiding your movements to be harder.
“Hm”, you whine, feeling his hard on giving you the friction you're looking for. His hand cups your cheek, pulling you closer into a kiss again.
You never felt this way, like ever. You did masturbate but it's different to do it with another person. It's just so good to feel Chan's touch on your skin, his breathing, his muscular arms holding you. You feel your orgasm coming, you can't believe you're going to cum by just rubbing yourself on this man.
Chan knows you're almost there, that's when he grabs your hips steadying you, not letting you move further. He earns a whine from you, an angry look on your face.
“I will only let you keep going if you tell me why you were embarrassed and avoided me”, he says cockyly and you shake your head, trying to move again but his grip on your hips is too strong.
“I don't wanna”, you tell him.
“Then, I guess you won't be cumming today”, he shrugs. “At least, not with me”, he smirks to your face becoming even redder.
“You're such a meanie”, you whine, pouting, still trying to move again but he just won't let you.
“Are you going to tell me what I want to know?” He tilts his head.
You ponder for a moment, what should you do? It's not going to end here, if you don't tell him right now, you're sure he won't let it go.
“I- I had a dream”, you start, trying to gather some courage.
“Uhm”, he nods, “what about it?” He asks curiously, feeling strangely aroused by the way you're looking around, lips pulled into a line and the way you're speaking leads him to believe you're talking about a wet dream.
“Li- like one of those dreams”, so he was right, did you have a wet dream about him? That's interesting.
“Hm, you'll have to be more specific, princess”, he pushes, “I don't think I know what you're talking about”
“I mean”, you groan, dropping your head to his shoulder so you won't feel his eyes on you. “A sex dream… with you”, you whisper.
The grin on Chan's face after you finish saying that, is priceless. He can feel his cock twitching, he's eager to know more.
“Tell me more about it”, he presses, “I really wanna know what happened in that dream that left you so embarrassed”
“Please, Chan. Don't make me say it”, you beg, but he's not having it. He likes seeing you blushing and struggling to talk dirty, it's endearing.
“No can do”, he grabs your shoulder to pull you away so he can look at your face. “I promise I'll give a nice reward if you tell me”
You nod. If he won't drop it, then you have to try and earn something over your embarrassing situation.
“I- like- you ate me out”, you start and he smiles, he would indeed love to do that. “And I s-sucked you off, it was nice”, you stumble over your words in each sentence. Chan can only feel even more turned on, your lips are so soft, he can't even picture what it would feel like to have them wrapped around him.
“Keep going, princess. You're doing great”, he reassures you. Chan loosens the grip on your hips, guiding your movements back and forth once again.
“And you said all these dirty things to me, I can't say it out loud, please”, he smirks, pulling you even closer and pressing your covered core against his cock.
“Did I tell you how good it felt to have your pretty little mouth sucking on my cock?” He asks playfully and you nod, feeling the warmth creeping in your face again while that tingly sensation grows bigger in your lower stomach.
“Did we fuck?” He asks, feeling himself getting closer to cum too.
“Yeah”, you nod frantically with your eyes closed shut. “You fucked me on all fours and in this same position too”, you tell him.
“Oh? Did you ride me? Did you like it?”
“I did”, you struggle to make your voice come out, feeling too light headed to even speak properly.
“There's something more, right, baby?” He feels his cock throbbing, he's almost at his limit.
“Yes, you- you choked me a bit, I liked that”, and that sentence was enough to make Chan reach his orgasm, being followed by you right after.
He can't believe he really did cum in his pants, like a fucking teenager. It's your fault actually, how can someone make him cum like this and still look angelic and innocent? Like you never told him he choked you and you liked it, even though it was a dream.
Chan kisses you eagerly this time, his chest is feeling hot and he feels a weird sensation on his stomach.
“You shouldn't feel embarrassed about this kind of thing”, he tells you and you nod, because it's true, “if it makes you feel better, I'm sure I had worse thoughts about you”, he smiles, seeing you blush.
“Like what?” You ask, curiously.
“Oh, I won't tell you”, he shakes his head, “you would never look at me again if you knew all the dirty things I wanna do to you”
Another week went by and now you were not avoiding Chan anymore. He follows you around pretty much all day at school, stealing kisses and pulling you to empty classrooms to have make out sessions.
It's time for him to meet your parents, it's not something he ever did, he never dated anyone after all. It's a Wednesday night, he brought flowers and a bottle of wine. So five minutes before the set time, he's knocking at your door.
Your sister opens up, greeting him but you're nowhere to be found until he hears your voice from upstairs.
“Is he already here?” You sound panicked and your sister giggles.
“Yes! Hurry up”, she says and Chan hears something falling and making a weird noise. It was not loud enough to be a person so he's not worried you fell, but he finds it funny to think about you nervously stumbling around.
When you show up at the top of the stairs, he has to blink a few times to actually believe you're real. You look so beautiful, showing your nice legs in a short skirt and your shoulders in a tank top.
“Hey”, you greet him, looking at the things he has in hands and he finally regains his composure.
“Hi”, he gives you a peck on the lips, “this is for you” he hands you a bouquet of red camellias.
You stop for a second, you never received flowers. Before you can answer him, your father's head is popping out of the living room.
“Why is it taking so long for you to bring this guy inside?”, he asks grumpy, he's not too happy about you dating but there's nothing he can do about it.
Chan straightens himself, walking to your father to greet him.
“Good night, sir. I'm Bang Chan”, he clears his throat when your father doesn't say a thing, just staring at him. “I brought this for you”, he shows the wine bottle and your father takes it.
“At least you have good taste”, he nods to the wine bottle Chan stole from his father's collection.
He turns around, shrugging to you and you smile, listening to your sister's chuckles. You take his hand into yours, interlacing your fingers.
In the living room there's a woman that looks too much like you and your sister to not be your mother, she smiles kindly at you two.
She's less intimidating than your father so Chan's greetings to her are less awkward this time. As time goes by, your parents warm up to him, making jokes and even telling him about your childhood.
“The night went great”, you say while walking Chan to his car. “Thank you for coming”
“Your parents are great”, he says, leaning on the door of his car. He takes your hands in his and pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around your waist. “Thank you for inviting me”
He looks so good tonight, his dark hair is carefully styled and he's wearing much more formal clothes than usual, making him look like a prince.
“Can I have a good night’s kiss?” He asks, slyly, seeing you eyeing him up. You nod, putting your hands on his chest and closing the gap between your mouths. Chan's hands slide from your waist to your ass, squeezing slightly, he can't get too into it since he won't be able to go further than a kiss tonight.
You pull away from him when you have to breathe, his lips are so inviting you could kiss him all night long.
“I will see you tomorrow”, he tells you.
There's something wrong with his heart, it's beating so fast he thinks he may be dying. After driving away from you, he calms himself a bit. It's not possible that you were the cause of that reaction, right? This is supposed to be fun, he only has to date you for a while and then break up, no strings attached. So why does he feel such hurt in his chest after thinking about leaving you?
After one more long and sleepless night Chan realized something: he is in love. This feeling snuck in so unexpectedly he didn't even notice he was falling in love. Chan never fell in love before, so he can only guess that this is how it feels to love someone.
He notices every little detail about you, he jokes around all the time waiting to hear you laugh about something he says. Chan likes the way you smell, the way you smile, the way you just look at him so focused while he is speaking. He is in love with your personality, your cleverness, your kindness, your beauty is just a bonus that makes him even more in love with you.
He wants to confess to you, ask you to be his girlfriend, to never leave him.
He even asked for your sister's help to make something for you, maybe a song, he can definitely make something beautiful and romantic for you. Maybe he can cook too, he wants to make you feel appreciated.
He's waiting for your class to finish, seated on the bench in front of the classroom while scrolling through his phone.
He feels someone sitting by his side and before he can look, a kiss lands onto his cheek. Chan puts his hand on his face, blushing and you laugh seeing his reaction. You two did much more than just a kiss on the cheek, why is he embarrassed about it?
“Did you miss me?” You ask him and he rolls his eyes.
“Of course I did”, he grabs your hand, interlacing your fingers. “Should we go to my place?” He asks and you nod, standing up, pulling him to get up too.
It's still a bit weird that you two are together, you never thought liking someone as much as you like Chan could actually happen to you, you could even say you're in love. The only thing that still makes you doubtful is the fact that he didn't ask you to be his girlfriend yet, you have been going out for a month and you do everything together, so why hasn't he made it official?
You still have many questions in your mind, sitting on Chan's bed while he makes popcorn and you choose the movie you're watching tonight.
He enters the room, closing the door and turning off the lights, two water bottles and a huge bowl in his hands.
“What movie did you choose?” He asks, but you can't hear it, your mind is too loud. “Y/N? Are you alright?” He asks, snapping you out of your thoughts.
“Are we exclusive?” You ask out of nowhere, ripping the air out of his lungs.
“Yes”, he says firmly, “do you want to be with other people?”
Chan asked that, but he's holding his breath until you answer him, hoping you're going to deny. For a moment, you don't say a thing and seeing you hesitate makes his heart ache.
“No, I-” you try speaking, trying not to sound ridiculous, “I want to be exclusive, I just don't know if you want that”
Chan takes a deep breath, putting the things he has in hands on the nightstand.
“Of course, I want to”, he takes your hand into his, bringing it to his mouth so he can kiss the palm. He's feeling guilty, he's taking his time preparing a nice confession but you're feeling insecure. “I'm sorry I made you feel like I didn't want things to get more serious”, he climbs on the bed, getting closer to you, “let me show you that you're the only one I want, hum? Can I?”
You suck on your teeth, knowing exactly what is about to happen but you just can't say no to him, let's be real, you don't want to say no to him. So you nod, making him smile.
Chan is eager to have you, he has been for weeks, just waiting for you to be ready to give yourself to him. He cups your face, pulling you closer and kissing you.
He helps you lay down on the bed, towering over you while landing kisses down your neck. You feel him biting on your shoulder and he brings his hands to the hem of your shirt, pulling it up. His hands travel around your body, making you hotter.
“You're so pretty, princess”, he says, kissing your chest. You whine, he's taking too much time to get to the place you want the most.
“Channie”, you whisper, “please, touch me”, you ask him.
His smile grows bigger as he mumbles “your wish is my command”. Chan unbuttons your pants, pulling them down your legs, throwing it someplace in the room.
He slides his hand down to your core, your underwear is soaked. He pulls your panties down your legs and brushes a finger along your folds, collecting the wetness before inserting a finger inside, you arch your back to the feeling. It's delicious, but it hurts a bit. It's different from how it feels doing it alone.
“Is this okay?” He asks and you nod. “You're such a good girl, baby, all wet and ready for me.” He whispers, getting closer to your face again. I'm going to put another one”, he tells you. The sensation it's too much already, his fingers are too much.
“Chan”, you moan, “I'm gonna cum if you keep doing that”
“Oh? But I didn't even get to the better part”, he answers pressing his thumb on your clit, making circles.
“Fuck”, you whine.
His smirk grows while he keeps the movement of back and forth inside of you. Before he can tease you more, your legs are shaking and your tight hole is clenching around his fingers. You put your hand on your mouth, covering it so you won't make a loud sound, but he doesn't like that. He wants to hear how well he's fucking you.
“Let's not do that, okay? I want you to be loud, want to hear you scream my name” He says, pulling his fingers out of you and sliding them on his mouth. He comes closer, kissing your neck and face, helping you calm down after your orgasm.
Goosebumps rise all over your body, his kisses feel like fire on your skin, you thought you'd feel less horny after cumming, but you're still so turned on.
Chan kisses your chest, opening your bra. You feel embarrassed when he sees you completely naked.
“You're still dressed”, you point out, face red.
He gets out of the bed immediately, taking his shirt off and his pants too, crawling back to you in only his underwear. His cock is hard, outlined by the thin fabric of his boxers.
You feel the urge to touch him, maybe taste it. So you grab his length, making him groan.
“What are you doing, princess?” He asks, eyes closed from the pleasure of having your beautiful hands wrapped around him.
“I want to make you feel good”, you tell him, pushing his chest and making him fall on his back on the bed. You kiss his neck the same as he was doing to you, suddenly feeling possessive and sucking on the skin, leaving a few hickeys there.
You go down, kissing his chest and stomach, getting closer and closer to his throbbing cock. You pull his underwear down and his cock spring on your face.
“I just- you need to teach me”, you tell him. How can you look at him with such innocence in your eyes when you're about to suck him off?
“Hold the base”, he instructs, “now you can go up and down with your hand.”
 He feels your movements, making him groan. You are bolder than he gives you credit for, since you lick the head of his cock without being told to. You wrap his dick with your mouth, waiting for the next command.
“You can go up and down, princess, yes, like that” he moans, feeling his cock being embraced by your warm mouth.
Chan feels like exploding any time now, weeks of pent-up sexual tension being released. He sees you rubbing yourself on his bed while sucking on him, that just makes him crazier, he wants to make you feel good now, he can let you do the same for him another time.
“Baby”, you hear him say and you stop your movements. “I won't be able to last long with your soft mouth doing that, I need to feel you around my cock”
You nod, letting go of his cock and climbing up, stopping on top of Chan.
“I wanna be on top”, you say confidently.
“Let's do it slowly okay? I don't want to hurt you”, Chan tells you and you agree.
He grabs the base of his cock, brushing the head on your folds, trying to wet it enough to make it easier for you.
It feels like heaven when his cock finally slides inside of you, you're so tight he feels like he can cum at any moment.
Chan sees the pain in your eyes, he doesn't move, “do you want to stop?” He asks worriedly, putting his hands on your hips to stop you from moving but you shake your head.
You keep pushing it in, trying to relax. Chan kisses you, massaging your breasts to help you relax a bit.
When the painful part is gone and you're feeling all the good sensations back, you don't think you can stop, it's too addictive. You start riding on him freely, hands taking support on his chest and head thrown back, the pleasure is just too much, you'll be coming soon.
“Fuck, you look so good riding me, princess”, he says, feeling his own high almost catching him.
“Oh, Channie, I'm gonna cum”, you whine, fastening the movements of your hips, “please, oh, your cock feels so good”
For someone who couldn't talk about a wet dream a few weeks ago you sure talk dirty in real life, Chan chuckles, feeling you clenching around him and when you squeeze his cock for the last time he cums too, filling you up.
You collapse on top of him, breathing heavily. Your eyes are heavy, you're not sure if you can stay awake. Chan caresses your back and plays with your hair, making you fall fast asleep.
You wake up feeling just a bit sore. You're on cloud nine, the night was amazing. When you open your eyes, there's no one in the bed with you. You wrap yourself in the blankets trying to find and collect all your clothes scattered around the room.
The delicious smell that embraces your nose the moment you step out of the room, is enough to make you drool.
Chan is in the kitchen, dressed in nothing but sweatpants and an apron. That's right, he's shirtless. You're feeling bold today, so you get closer to him wrapping your arms around his waist in a back hug.
He lets out a laugh, putting his hand over yours and turning off the stove. He turns around, hugging you.
“Did you sleep well?” He asks, kissing your forehead and you nod, snuggling in his embrace.
“Why didn't you wake me earlier? I woke up missing you”
“Ow, my baby is so needy”, he teases, making you pout. “I was making you, breakfast”
“Hm”, you look at what he was cooking.
“How are you feeling?” He asks, a bit worried, it was your first time after all.
“I'm doing great”, you smile, “just a bit sore, but it's nothing”
He nods, putting his hands on your shoulders and turning you around.
“I'm happy to hear that”, he kisses the top of your head, guiding you to take a seat on the table. “Let's eat so we can go for another round then”, he smirks.
“Jeongin is coming here today?” You ask your sister and she nods frantically while fixing her hair.
“He's coming to ask dad's permission to date me”, she giggles excitedly.
“Alright”, you smile seeing your sister so happy.
You're the one opening the door for Jeongin while your sister is getting ready, he's clearly nervous but he's trying to keep his smile.
“Hey!” You give space for him to enter, “Yuna is almost done”
He nods, looking around. Your sister comes down minutes later, leading Jeongin to the living room.
Your father is less hostile to him than he was to Chan, maybe it's because Jeongin is adorable.
After an hour of conversation, you go upstairs, you have a date tonight and need to get ready.
The memories from your night with Chan flood your mind making you giggle and kick your feet, they have been your most cherished thoughts lately. It's a struggle but you finally end your bath after probably an hour.
You walk back to your room, you're already late. However, you stop in front of your sister's room when you hear voices being a little bit too loud.
“You did what, Jeongin?” your sister's voice is a pitch higher than usual.
“I didn't think things would get out of hand”, Jeongin answers, are they fighting?
“In what world did you think that was a good idea?”
“I was desperate, I'm not proud of that”, he answers back.
“There's no excuse for you to ask Bangchan to date my sister”, she tries speaking lower but you still can hear them. Your whole world crumbles with that one sentence, what does she mean by that?
“I didn't do it to be mean, I know how hard it is for your sister to get to meet new people, I thought it would benefit the both of us”, he tries explaining. Your heart is beating too fast, the throbbing in your ears grows stronger and your legs are giving out.
“How am I supposed to tell her now? She is so happy” Yuna cries out. “Don't come any closer, get out of here”, you panic instantly, they can't see you there. But you're too slow, when you finally manage to move Jeongin is swinging the door open. He stops on his tracks, turning white on the spot.
“Y/N-”, he tries to speak, but you run to your room before he can say anything else.
You can't believe this is actually happening to you, you thought that someone finally liked you but everything was a lie? That's not possible, right?
You are going to go to Chan, you two have a date, and he is going to tell you that Jeongin is lying, that he was just joking.
The uber to Chan's apartment doesn't seem to show up fast enough and the ride there couldn't be slower. You're restless, fidgeting with your fingers and shaking your legs.
You pay the man, practically running out of the car and running upstairs. The person who opens the door is not Chan but Changbin, you met him a few times when you were visiting the apartment.
“Hey, y/n”, Changbin greets you. “Chan is not home, but he will be here soon, I heard you have a date”, he says, letting you in.
“I'm going to wait for him in his room”, you tell him, too disturbed to worry about proper manners.
You walk back and forth in the room, anxiously waiting for Chan's arrival. You hear his voice after twenty minutes, he's talking to his friend in the living room when Changbin tells him you're there.
You can hear the fast footsteps leading to where you are, you take a deep breath, trying not to cry.
“Hey, baby”, Chan smiles at you, dropping his bag on the floor and walking towards you with open arms. “Did something happen?” He stops, noticing your face.
You stare at him for a minute, brows knit together and eyes trying to find the least bit of sincerity in the time you two spent together.
“Did you ask me out as a favor to Jeongin?” You ask and his standing falter, how did you find out?
“L-let me explain”, he says, taking a step closer to you.
“So you did”, you feel the tears trying to escape from your eyes.
“Please, just… just hear what I have to say”, he asks, trying to hold your hand, but you pull away from him.
“I don't want to hear a thing from you”, you tell him, running your hands through your hair.
It really was all a lie. How could you be so dumb?
You walk past him, trying to get out of the room, go anywhere but there. But Chan grabs your arm, making you stop in your tracks.
“Please, don't leave”, he begs. You feel a pang in your chest, but it doesn't make a difference since you're already hurting too much.
“You have no right to ask me that”, you pull your arm out of his grasp and walk out of the apartment.
It would be too humiliating to enter the uber while bawling your eyes out, so you decide to walk. You walk for a long time before your feet start hurting and your eyes are burning from how much you cried. You can't believe you really let yourself fall pray to such a scheme, you thought you were smarter than that.
It's obvious you only fell for it because it's Chan, you were attracted to him since the first time you laid eyes on him. You try to believe that it wouldn't be that easy to trick you if it was anyone else.
After at least two hours, you finally reach your house and you're feeling utterly miserable. You greet your parents and walk upstairs, anxiously searching for your room so you can finally let yourself fall and cry as much as you can.
Your sister is seated on your bed, biting on her nails. She stands up as soon as she sees you.
“I'm really sorry”, she says, teary.
You sigh, feeling the weight on your chest even heavier.
“It's not your fault”, you tell her. You start to undress, looking for your pajamas so you can snuggle on your bed until all of this passes.
“I shouldn't have started dating before you”, she whines.
“I don't blame you, so stop doing that to yourself”, you say, even though you feel a bit of resentment because Jeongin likes her truly, he likes her because she's her. Of course no one's going to like you, you're… you.
“But”, she bites on her lower lip, not sure if she should say this, “I think Chan really likes you-”, she stops talking when you give her the meanest glare you ever threw in someone's way.
“I don't want to hear it”, you say.
“He even asked help so he could confess to you in a way you would like”, she continues.
“I'm not going to repeat myself”, you say and your sister knows that tone too well, it's better for her to stay silent for the time being. “If you're done, I would like to be alone”
Yuna nods, glancing at you all the way to the door.
You collapse on your bed, finally able to cry your eyes out without people looking at you in a weird way. This is the moment you realize how much you love Bang Chan, the pain you're feeling is greater than anything you ever felt in your whole life, you truly don't think you'll be able to survive this.
Chan is an idiot, he knows this and you are right to never look at his face again. But even though he knows you're right, he can't accept the thought of you leaving him.
He tried calling and texting you, you blocked him. He tried talking to your sister, she cursed him out and told him to leave you alone. She and Jeongin are on bad terms right now but they didn't break up yet.
He tried to find you in the university, but you didn't show up for the entire week, he just doesn't know what to do.
“You are an idiot”, Hyunjin says after listening to the whole story, “you should have told her about it while you still had time”
“I didn't know I was in love”, Chan runs his hands through his hair, “not until it was too late”
His friend sighs, he just can't see Chan like that anymore. He's just miserable, he looks like he's dying and Hyunjin doesn't doubt it could actually happen at this point.
So as a good friend, he takes this matter into his own hands and calls your sister, trying to convince her to listen to Chan and maybe forgive Jeongin too, Hyunjin is tired of him whining all day long.
“Did you really call me here for this?”, Yuna asks, ready to grab her things and go home.
“Hear me out, okay?” He says. “I know what they did was wrong but they regret it, Jeongin even told you about it”
She huffs, crossing her arms.
“He told me because I was talking about how Chan wanted to ask y/n to be his girlfriend”, she says. “He felt guilty, he would have never told me about it otherwise”
“Chan really likes y/n, he really wants to be with her”
Yuna sighs, she knows that. There was no way Chan could fake the way he looked at you.
“She's not going to believe that”, Yuna says, “y/n is heartbroken, she's not even going to her classes. She just stays in her room all day, crying’
“There's nothing better to fix her broken heart then”, Hyunjin points out, “let's help them meet, they can talk things out that way”
“She doesn't want to see him”, Yuna sighs, “but I do think this is the best solution”
“Okay, I'll text you the day and time, just bring y/n, Chan will take care of the rest”
Yuna nods, collecting her things but before she can stand up, Hyunjin's voice sounds again.
“About Jeongin-”, he starts, but she cuts him off right away.
“This whole mess started because of Jeongin”, she takes a deep breath, “after y/n and Chan resolve this matter I'll see what I'm going to do about him”
Yuna turns around, leaving Hyunjin there. At least he got Chan a chance, he can't save everyone.
Chan can't take it anymore, he has to see you. So he musters all the courage he has and goes to your house. It doesn't help that it's 2 a.m. so everyone is sleeping, except you it seems, since there's light coming from your room.
He begins throwing rocks at your window, trying to make you notice him and after a few tries he sees your face popping out.
Chan wishes he didn't come at all, your face is puffy so he knows you have been crying and the way you're looking at him, it's just awful, he feels despicable. More than he has felt all this time without you.
“What do you want?” You ask, at least you didn't ignore him.
“Can you come down for a bit?”
You sigh, you don't actually want to, but you're afraid he'll make too much noise trying to convince you to go down and wake up the neighbors or even worse, your parents.
You close the window, he knew it would be hard, that you wouldn't want to see him. Before he can turn around and walk away, Chan hears the sound of the front door opening.
You are in your pajamas, holding yourself trying to protect your body from the cold air.
You stop in your tracks, looking at him with an intense gaze, like you can read all his thoughts and know about all his mistakes.
“How have you been?” He asks and you scoff.
“Are you here to survey my mood? I have been feeling like shit, what about you?” He remembers the first time he talked to you, how he wished to see you mad, now he regrets that. He never wanted to see you mad at him.
“I'm not well either”, he says.
You sigh.
“Now that we know how each other is feeling, you can go”, you tell him.
“Can you let me explain?” He pleads.
“Did you start dating me as a favor for Jeongin?” You ask and he sighs, nodding. “That's all I need to know, I would appreciate it if you don't come looking for me anymore”, you say, turning around and going back inside. Tears start running down your face while you go back to your room, when will this pain subside?
You are finally back at school, after moping around all day at home for an entire week, you decided it was time to get back to your life. Staying at home just made you feel worse, you didn't have a thing to distract yourself so you ended up thinking about Chan the whole time. That only weakened your resolve to forget about him, you avoided coming to school because you knew you would give in if he tried to approach you.
Your day goes by fast enough and you just want to go home to lay on your bed. You feel your phone buzzing, it's a message from Jeongin. You were so angry with Chan that you forgot to block him.
He should be begging to meet Yuna, so why is he asking to meet you? Maybe he wants your help to fix things between them.
You don't know why you decided to meet him, maybe it's curiosity to know why he did such a thing to you or maybe you want to look at his face and curse at him.
He arrives at the cafe at the set time, looking around for you and walking towards you when his eyes lock with yours.
“Hey”, he says, sitting in front of you. You don't say anything back, not in the mood to be polite.
Jeongin sighs, he expected this much.
“I wanted to talk with you about this whole situation, believe me I didn't mean to hurt you even though it ended up happening in the end-”
“I considered you my friend”, you say making him stop talking.
“I- I'm”, he says, voice a pitch higher.
“Friends don't do what you did”, you say and he nods.
“I know it was an ill executed plan, but my intentions weren't bad, I swear”, he tells you.
“And do your intentions matter if I was the one hurt in the end?” You ask, angrier now.
“No”, he answers. “I'm truly sorry, I swear, I just caught you staring at Chan more than once. I thought this would be good for us both but I was clearly wrong”
You huff, exhausted. You start collecting your things to go home but you hear Jeongin's voice once more.
“Chan really likes you, he fell in love with you”, he says and your heart skips a beat, it shouldn't be behaving like this, not after the heartbreak you are going through.
“I don't care, he lost his chance”, you answer firmly, even though you know it's not true.
“Are you sure?” Jeongin asks, “are you sure you won't regret it? Not let him explain or not hearing him out?”
You glance at him once more, before standing up and walking out of the cafe.
Your mid terms are finally over, that means, you don't have anything to study so you're stuck with your thoughts. Your phone buzzes in your pocket, it's a message from Yuna, asking you to meet her in the arts department.
You reply, saying you'll be there in a moment. What is she even doing there? She's a business major.
The arts department is not far from yours, but it's emptier than you are used to. She asked you to meet in the first classroom of the second floor.
When you open the door, the first thing you see is Bang Chan. He looks awful, worse than you even.
You try going back, but he already saw you, so he stands up, coming closer.
“Don't leave, I'll do anything just… don't leave”
He's pale, and the eyebags he normally has are darker than usual.
“Are you sick?” You ask, worried. It's not like you can stop loving him in such a short period of time, of course you're worried.
“No”, he says, “I mean, I'm not feeling well, but I don't think I have an illness”
You nod, feeling awkward. It's been a while since you felt this way about him.
“Okay, then I'll get going”, you say trying to leave, but his voice stops you.
“I love you”, he is desperate, you can hear it in his voice. However, you're too petty.
“This was part of Jeongin’s plan too?”, you scoff, seeing his lips trembling.
He takes a deep breath, he deserves that, he knows he does.
“I really started going out with you because Jeongin asked”, he starts explaining, “but I fell in love with you, for real”
You feel your heart ache once more, he's about to cry, you can see it. But you're not sure if you can forgive him, even if what he's telling you is true.
“I don't believe you”, you say, shrugging, trying to hold your own tears.
“I will do anything to prove it to you, just say what I need to do for you to believe me”, he says, taking a step closer to you.
“I'm not sure if I'll be able to forget this or even forgive you, Chan”, you sigh, letting your heart speak and not your anger.
“I know I messed up, I don't deserve you I know that too”, he grabs your hand, “but please, I'll prove to you that I deserve a second chance, I'll earn back your trust”, he pleads.
You sigh, even after all this, it seems you still can't say no to him.
“I'm going to need some time”, you say slowly, “but I will give you a second chance, you better not ruin it”, you say.
Chan can't believe you're really going to try and forgive him, he can't ask for anything more.
“I won't disappoint you this time, I promise”, he says, kissing the palm of your hand, the same way he did before.
“Let's see about that”, you sigh, feeling your heart beating fast once again.
You may be making a stupid choice, but you'll only learn by making mistakes. You just sure hope this is not one.
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A/N: If you like what I write please reblog or let me know in the comments, feedback gives me motivation to keep writing.
5K notes · View notes
eupheme · 2 months ago
Note
okay but someone (you !!!) should write a cute little oneshot of that tik tok trend where you call logan your boyfriend (even though he’s your husband) and he is just not!!! happy!!! and all pouty about it !!!
ORRRRR (if not maybe both 👀) one where Logan is your boyfriend and you call him your husband and he just melts and is so happy to be around you and in your presence
everything you do is amazing!!! 💖💖💖
ooh hi hi anon! I’ve seen this trend and it’s so cute to think about Logan being like ‼️ about it - I did a little drabble for each scenario! I hope you like them! 💖 (and ahh, thank you so much!)
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little games | logan howlett x f!reader
800 words | logan pov, fluff, possessive thoughts
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After another long shift, your smile is all he needs.
Unable to help the tired curve of his lips as he hears your voice - the “hi honey” that you coo, from where you lean against the kitchen counter.
Phone tucked against your ear, a notebook and colorful pens splayed out in front of you.
“Sound goods, Saturday is great. Listen, I gotta go-,” Your attention pulls from him, though his eyes linger as he crouches - working on the laces of his boots.
Standing, just as he hears the rest of your goodbye.
“-my husband just got home.”
He almost trips.
Warmth floods through him, a cock of his head as he wonders if he misheard.
But his senses always had been keen.
“Mhmm.” You hum - as he slowly crosses the room. Coming up behind you, arms wrapping around your waist just as you wrap up your call.
Unable to help the tilt of his head - pressing his lips against your neck. Inhaling you, that pretty layer of scents that now linger in his home.
Something stirs, as he lets his mind run free.
“Yep,” You squirm, your hand layering over his, “See you then. Bye!”
He only gives you just enough space to twist yourself around. Still pinning you against the counter, his eyes darkened.
“Hi.” You smile, tipping your lips up to his, “Missed you.”
It’s murmured back, just as his mouth presses to yours. Sweet, when his tongue licks against your lip, his hands slipping up to cradle your jaw.
Letting himself imagine, for just a minute. Still quiet, when you pull away - the mark between his brow deepening.
Never one to beat around the bush, the words slipping before he can think too much about it.
“Called me your husband.” He husks, “You know that?”
He should catch that you’re not caught off-guard. That there’s almost a guilty flicker in your eye, before you’re inhaling a breath.
Head tilting to match his. His eyes dropping to where your tongue peeks out to wet your lip.
“Sorry, baby. Must have slipped up,” You shrug, shyly, “Did it bother you?”
The name curls in his chest, slipping around his ribs. Only adding to the flicker of desire, the soft warmth that’s settled beneath his skin.
“No.” He husks.
Dipping to kiss you again. Hips pressing flush, the curving ridge of his jeans indicating exactly how it made him feel.
“Not when it’s you saying it.”
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Logan never really minds meeting the people you grew friendly with.
You attract them in a way he never did. Picking up the names of everyone in the apartment complex long before he does. The couple that live on the floor above. The old man and his dog three doors down.
Your hand patting his chest, as you stop to chat with an older woman at the base of the stairs.
“You remember Logan, right?” You ask her, “My boyfriend.”
And suddenly, he minds. Head whipping towards you so quickly his neck almost cracks.
Eyebrow arching as the women - Gladys - coos over them, the words petering out to white noise as he frowns.
“Husband.” Logan cuts in, gruffly - the gold glinting off his finger as he reaches out to shake her hand.
You giggle. Gladys only exclaims - and it’s all he can do to keep his jaw from clenching so hard his teeth crack.
A hand at your back, already guiding you towards the apartment before your goodbyes are finished. Backing you against the door the second it’s shut, as you blink up at him.
“Tryin’ to be cute?” He asks - and he can hear the edge in his voice, “Another one of your little games?”
Knows he hit the nail on the head when your teeth sink into your lip. Biting back a smile, as your voice pitches up.
“What do you mean?”
He huffs. Hands flattening against the wood - seeing how your eyes go wide as he leans in.
“Calling me your boyfriend.” Logan grits out, “When we both know how fucking eager you were to take my name.”
How wet it makes you, when he has you beneath him. Fingers entwined, a matching ring around yours.
There’s hunger in your eyes. His lips ghosting against yours - pulling away just as you lean to kiss him.
“Uh-uh.” His head shakes, “What am I?”
You pout, but he only hums - expectant. Possessive.
Logan’s voice dropping low.
“Come on, baby.” He coaxes, “Lemme hear you say it.”
Your scent blooms sweet, and he almost groans. Lets your lips press against his this time, your answer breathed out.
“My husband.”
“That’s my girl.” He smirks.
Kissing you soundly, then.
Already imaging how the cool press of his ring will feel when he’s got three fingers buried deep inside you.
Maybe then you won’t ‘forget’.
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632 notes · View notes
mono-dot-jpeg · 22 days ago
Text
inextricably bound - viktor, jayce
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summary; stuck in a plane above all else but at least you're together
genre/extra tags; oneshot, fluff, bad jokes?, a dash of angst?, czech viktor, jayvik are canon fuck whatever christian linke was saying, just two bros being soulmates in every timeline and they're each others everything (but not in a gay way am i right chat /j), god forbid two dudes be canonically gay in every timeline, sorry im pissed off, im coping with jayvik being gone, OOC jayvik??, i dont know how to write for jayce well, jayvikreader poly sloppy toppy (jk), it's like implied that reader just got pulled in and doesn't know the dramatic moment they had n the astral plane before finally making up., headcanon that the astral plane is almost like being in limbo for death or reincarnation
[reader's gender not specified or mentioned]
word count; 808
a/n; can you tell im mad that there are jayvik non believers? like hate them all you want, but you can't just say that they were just bros and im glad most of the fandom can understand that. am i absolutely greedy for viktor? yes, but im not taking him away from his literal soulmate/twin flame/whatever the fuck gay shit they got going. also i feel like this isnt my best work but anyways enjoy :)
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empty.
that's what being in the astral plane feels like. but it's calm. most of your body is engulfed the stars that you once looked up to. now you were part of that. not as a star but as a being. your face is illuminated a white gold shimmer.
"love?" a voice echoes and before you know it, two familiar faces are close to yours.
"vik? jayce?" your voice echoes in the listless space. and it's only then do you register how.. normal they look again.
despite the stars that cover their body and shimmering light of the ethereal, they look like themselves. it was the viktor and jayce you knew. your hands move, your body floating as you hold viktor's face.
"it's you. viktor.." the mentioned male looks at you, guilt and love in his eyes. jayce's hand rests on the small of his back, a silent encouragement for the shorter man. "it's you.." your voice trembles. viktor can't look you in the eye until jayce's hand gently nudges him, and it's only then that he sees the absolute love pouring from your eyes. "i should be more concerned that we're stuck here, but fuck.. i missed seeing you."
you can't exactly cry in the astral plane. your tears end up sparkling and twinkling away and become part of the galaxy you've been pulled into.
"miláček.." you don't even realize how much you've missed his normal voice until now. even if it did have that ethereal echo, it was still him. your viktor. your forehead presses against his for just a moment.
"you... i have a lot to say, but let me be happy for just a moment." viktor tenses at your words, but he relaxes in your touch. you pull away to give jayce the love you missed giving him.
"jayce.. you did so well. more than well. i don't know everything of what you experienced, but you never gave up. didn't know i could be more thankful for you." jayce smiles brightly at your words as you hold his face between his hands in appreciation.
he looks at you with that look he used to give you and viktor when things we once normal. that silly lovesick grin on his face, but you know he can't express how thankful he is for you and him. "i missed you so much, too. you have no idea." he said softly.
"now, with that out of the way, what exactly happened?" the two men look at each other before slowly explaining how everything started and ended with them. and they definitely ended it, seeing as they were taken here by the crystal that jayce held so dear to him. "but why am i here then? i mean, it makes sense for you two to be here. you're basically soulmates."
"don't say that, miláček. we love you too. whether you're in this timeline or not." viktor said gently, floating to you and holding you in his arms. "we won't allow you to think so lowly like that. especially when jayce is around. and especially because that line of thinking does not seem to do well for us. my insecurities blinded me to want to fix everything to a dangerous degree.." he confesses.
"you’re ours whether you like it or not. and it's not like we can find a way to leave here." jayce smiled softly, his large arms wrapped around yours and viktor's shoulders. he hugs you two close, not missing a moment to hold you both in his arms.
"i guess it was really meant to be when i said you're both stuck with me forever." you joked, kissing them on the cheek. "but we're really stuck here?"
after your kisses, viktor starts giving his share of kisses. "it would seem so. not that i'm complaining." jayce joins in on the sweet kissing session, making sure to give as much as he could before you or viktor start telling him to stop. echoing laughter rings out in the empty void. the cold of the astral plane could never make you shiver when you were with the men who did nothing but give you warmth.
"maybe we'll just reincarnate. do you believe in reincarnation?" you asked between kisses. they pause for a moment, contemplating your words.
"eh.. well, i'm sure it wouldn't be crazy to believe in reincarnation." viktor said with the slight tilt of his head, his look silently conveying his uncertainty but uncaring of it.
"if we do get reincarnated, i'll make sure to find you two before anything else." jayce whispered, his face firm with determination and love.
"that's so sweet. and sappy." you laughed lightheartedly.
the two men can't help but join in with their own laughter and just for a moment, the stars twinkle a little brighter as if joining in on the joy.
721 notes · View notes
cowboybeepboop · 2 months ago
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Kiss the chef 
 "Oh God...keep doing that..." 
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Pairing: Clark Kent x fem! Reader
Genre: Smut
Word count: 5.7k
Summary: Clark is your best friend, who you suspect of being Superman. 
a/n: Guys I’ve been like obsessed with writing but I have zero time 😔 it’s torture and I’m also running out of ideas for the names of each oneshot they’re getting crazy 😭 Also yes, I’m aware I shift perspectives a lot, thats a stylistic choice 👍
Clark hums softly as he moves around the kitchen area, his hands working diligently as he prepares dinner for the two of you. 
He glances over his shoulder, his eyes catching a sight of you lounging on the couch, completely engrossed in your phone, a smile forms on his lips as a gasp escapes yours.
"Almost done in here," he says, his voice laced with a hint of contentment. "You find anything interesting on there?"
He turns his attention back to the meal, stirring something in a pan on the stove while sneaking glances your way, curious to know what's capturing your focus.
“Actually, yes.” You reply, hopping up and joining him in the kitchen. “There’s new photos of Superman that were just released.” You gushed, he knows about your crush on the hero, yet doesn't know that you’re imagining him as Superman.
Clark quirks an eyebrow, a slight amused smile on his face as he pretends to be surprised at the news. 
"Really?" he says, feigning intrigue, not that he would need to fake it. "New photos, huh?"
He watches you from the corner of his eye as you join him in the kitchen, the mention of Superman stirring something within him.
You lean against the counter, your eyes locked on the screen. “Mm, it smells good.” you murmur, setting your phone down and looking at the food he’s prepared, your mouth nearly watering at the sight.
"Thanks." Clark replies, a proud smile spreading across his face as he watches you eye the dish with appreciation. He glances in the direction of the screen, seeing a glimpse of the photos of Superman before returning his focus to you.
"Hopefully it tastes as good as it smells." He teases, scooping up a spoonful of the food from the pan and offering it for you to taste.
You eagerly open your mouth, holding onto his wrist as you taste the flavor, you let out a satisfied noise. “It’s really good, like really good.”
Clark can't help but chuckle at the sound you make while tasting the food, his heart fluttering slightly at the way you hold onto his wrist. 
"I'm glad you like it." He says, a hint of pride in his voice. "I put a little extra love into it just for you."
He scoops up some more food and offers it again, watching your reaction intently.
You step closer, taking the spoon into your mouth again, enjoying the way he’s feeding you small bites. “I should hire you as my private chef.” You sigh, licking your lips as you look at the pot.
"Careful, I might take you up on that offer." Clark replies, his eyes following the movement of your tongue as it licks your lips. 
He sets the spoon down, then leans against the counter next to you, his arm casually resting next to yours. "Just imagine me cooking for you every night." He muses, a hint of playfulness in his voice.
“Sounds like heaven to me.” You grin at him, reaching for your phone as the screen lights up.
"Heaven, huh?" Clark muses, he glances at the lit-up screen, the photo of Superman once again catching his eye. He clears his throat, trying to keep his composure. "So, uh, what's so special about these new photos anyway?"
“You can see all of his muscles..” you murmur, eyes fixated on the photos. “I mean they’re such high quality, just look.” You show him the screen, your cheeks flushed a slight pink.
Clark swallows the words and the photos you show him causing a stirring within him. He struggles to keep his expression neutral as his eyes flick between the screen and you.
"Yeah, they're really uh, really high quality." He clears his throat, his eyes lingering on the image, specifically the muscles you mentioned. "You really like this guy, don't you?"
You nod, turning your phone off and slipping it into your back pocket. “I can’t help but imagine what it would be like to meet him..” you shiver at the thought.
Clark's heart flutters at your words, a mix of guilt and amusement playing within him. He can't help but wonder what your reaction would be if you knew the truth.
"Meet him, huh?" He remarks, his voice low and a touch hesitant. "What would you even do if you ever met him?"
“I can think of a couple things,” you reply suggestively, wiggling your eyebrows for further effect.
Clark blushes slightly at your suggestive reply, a mix of flustered surprise and amusement on his face. He glances away for a moment, trying to regain his composure. 
"A couple things, huh?" he says, a hint of playfulness in his voice. "Well, I hate to break it to you, but I doubt the Man of Steel has time for...whatever it is you're thinking."
“Every man has time for..” you grin, “What I’m thinking of.” Clark's blush deepens at your response, his heart skipping a beat. 
He scratches the back of his head, trying to remain cool and collected, though he can't entirely hide the effect your words have on him.
"Uh, yeah, well," he stammers, a bit of nervous energy in his voice. "I'm sure the Man of Steel has much bigger priorities than...meeting fans and fulfilling...fantasies."
“Maybe.. Or maybe he has all the time for his eager fangirls.” You pull your hair into a ponytail, slyly exposing your nape to him as you notice how flustered he's becoming.
A wave of heat washes over Clark as you expose your nape to him, and he struggles to keep his composure. His eyes linger on the exposed skin for a moment, his thoughts swirling with a mixture of desire and restraint.
"Eager fangirls, huh?" he teases, trying to maintain his cool demeanor. "You certainly seem eager enough."
You giggle, watching as he turns off the stove. “I do, don’t I?”
Clark tries to ignore the way your giggle sends a shiver down his spine, turning his attention back to the stove instead. He swallows hard, desperately trying to keep his mind from wandering.
"You certainly do," he replies, his voice slightly strained. "And I have a feeling you're pretty relentless too."
“You know it.” Your grin grows as he plates the food, grabbing both in his hands as he leads you back to the living room. Clark balances the plates as he moves, he places them on the coffee table, trying to focus on the task at hand and not the way your grin makes his heart race.
"Should we watch something? A movie perhaps?” he clears his throat as he changes the topic.
“Mm.. yeah, you pick what we watch.” You settle on the floor in front of the couch, your back pressing against his knee.
Clark can't help but savor the feeling of your back against his knee, a mix of contentment and desire swirling within him. He grabs the remote, flipping through possible options but not really paying attention, his mind too preoccupied with the proximity of you and your intoxicating scent.
"How about, uh..." He struggles to think of a suitable movie as he glances down at you, his heart rate increasing. "How about that one?" he points to a movie at random.
“Sounds good.” You agree, focused on the food in front of you.
Clark tries to focus on the movie as it plays, but his attention is constantly drawn to you, the way you sit, the way you eat, the way your scent fills the air. Every little detail seems to distract him.
As the movie progresses, he finds himself inching closer to you, his knee pressing more firmly against your back. He tries to act nonchalant, hoping you don't notice his increasing closeness.
As you finish your food, you lean back against his leg further, playing on your phone. “You know, I’ve been thinking..”
Clark stiffens slightly as you lean back further against his leg, the feeling sending a thrill through him. He tries to remain nonchalant as he responds.
"Thinking? About what?" He glances down at you, his eyes flicking to your phone before meeting the back of your head again.
“You’re a reporter.” You begin, turning to look at him. “If you ever met Superman, would you tell him about me? Put in a good word..” you’re hoping that prompting him might reveal his secret.
A pang of guilt hits Clark at your question, but he forces a smile, trying to maintain composure. He knows the truth, that he *is* Superman, but hearing you talk about him like that, asking him to put in a good word...it's both endearing and painful. 
"I...uh, yeah, sure." he says, his voice a bit strained. "If I ever met him...I'd definitely mention you."
“You’re such a good friend.” You smile, turning your attention back toward the tv though your mind is obscured with disappointment.
As you turn your focus back to the TV, Clark lets out a shaky exhale, the words "good friend" stinging a little more than he expected. He remains silent for a moment, his mind racing with conflicting thoughts.
He glances down at you, the mixture of guilt and affection swirling inside him. He can't help but wonder what would happen if you ever found out the truth.
You reach for your wine glass, taking a small drink of the crimson liquid. Clark watches as you take a sip, the way your lips touch the glass making his heart skip a beat. He clenches his fists, fighting the urge to reach out and touch your face, your hair, anything.
"You, uh, like the wine?" he asks, trying to keep his mind from wandering.
“It’s actually really good, I usually hate wine.” You reply, “Where did you get it?”
Clark watches you take another sip, a hint of surprise on his face at your admission. He glances over at the half-empty bottle on the coffee table.
"Oh, it's from a small vineyard in Italy.” he answers, trying to keep his voice casual. "A friend gave it to me, said it was a special blend. I’ve been saving it for a special occasion, actually.”
His eyes linger on you once more, the sight of you drinking the wine stirring something within him.
“Then why did you waste it?” Your eyebrows furrow as you turn to look at him, confusion painted on your face.
Clark’s heart flutters slightly at your question, a mix of surprise and affection coursing through him. He tries to maintain his composure as he speaks.
“W-waste it?” he repeats, his voice slightly hoarse. “I don’t think sharing it with a...a friend is a waste.” His eyes meet yours, a hint of uncertainty in his gaze as he wonders if you can see through his facade.
“But it’s not particularly a *special* occasion, is it?” You cock your head to the side, shifting your body to face him.
Clark swallows, feeling your gaze on him as you turn to face him fully. He can see the curiosity in your eyes, the subtle hint in your question.
“I...I suppose not.” he admits, his voice soft. “Not in the traditional sense, anyway.” He studies your face, his heart racing as he wonders if you suspect something.
You narrow your eyes at him, scanning his features. “Clark..”
Clark feels a hint of alarm as you narrow your eyes, your gaze intense as you seem to be studying him. He can sense your suspicion, and it makes his heart race even faster.
“Y-yes?” he replies, his voice slightly shaky. He tries to keep his expression neutral, but he can’t quite hide the nervousness that’s beginning to show.
“You look..” you lean closer, eyes glued to his every movement. “You really do look a lot like him.” biting down on your lip as you rest your hands on his knees. 
Clark’s heart stutters at your words, his breath catching in his throat. He tries desperately to maintain eye contact, but he can feel his resolve slipping away under your intense gaze.
“Like who?” he stutters, knowing full well you’re talking about Superman.
“You know who,” you roll your eyes at his response, leaning closer to peel his glasses off his face, your fingers brush over his cheekbones. Warmth pools in your stomach as you consider the consequences of pushing him any further. 
Clark's eyes widen as you reach for his glasses, he swallows hard, feeling a mix of panic and anticipation. He knows he should stop you, but he can't bring himself to move as you draw closer.
You fold them up and set them on the coffee table behind you. “You’re really handsome.” You murmur under your breath as you gaze up at him from your position on the floor, hands itching to touch his skin once again.
Clark's breath hitches at your compliment, his heart fluttering as he takes in your words and your proximity. He can feel the heat rushing to his cheeks as you look up at him, the mix of nervousness and desire swirling within him like a tempest.
He can't help but respond, his voice barely above a whisper. "You..you think so?" He reaches out, catching a strand of your hair between his fingers, twirling it around his forefinger. 
“Of course.” You smile, leaning your elbows on his knees. “Clark, we don’t have any secrets between us do we?” your breath seems to get caught in your throat, dropping hints isn’t working anymore, you’ll have to be more direct with him. 
Clark tries desperately to push down the panic that rises in his chest at your question. He knows he should say something, anything, but the words get stuck in his throat.
His gaze flicks around the room, trying to find anything other than your eyes to focus on, but it's no use. He can feel your expectation, the way you're searching for the truth. He glances down at you again, the sight of you leaning on his knees making his heart flutter,
"N-no," he stutters, his voice strained. "No secrets."
You can tell he’s not being truthful, your expression faltering. “You’re lying.”
Clark swallows hard, the wave of guilt that washes over him nearly overwhelming. He can see the disappointment in your face, the way your expression falters, and it guts him.
He can't keep lying to you, not like this. He looks away, unable to meet your gaze, his voice small.
"I...I am." he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.
“What is it you’re hiding?” You murmur, eyes locked on his beautiful blue ones.
Clark can feel his facade collapsing with each passing second. His heart pounds in his chest as he looks back at you, your gaze intense and searching. He can almost feel the truth on the tip of his tongue, threatening to burst out.
“You can tell me anything.. Clark, we’re friends.” You move to sit next to him on the couch.
Clark takes a deep breath as you move closer, sitting next to him on the couch. The feeling of your proximity, the warmth of your body next to him, it's both a comfort and a source of anxiety.
He gazes at you, his eyes betraying the mixture of emotions raging inside him. He wants to tell you, to share this secret, but he's also terrified of how you'll react when you find out you’ve been crushing on him. You place your palm on his leg, offering some comfort.
Clark feels your hand on his leg, the touch sending a wave of warmth through him, calming his nerves slightly, but not enough to quiet his worries.
"I..." he begins, his heart pounding in his chest. "I don't know how to say this, but..." He takes another deep breath, his voice soft, low, and filled with trepidation. "I'm Superman."
“I knew it!” You gasp, eyes widened as you straighten up next to him.
Clark's eyes widen at your exclamation, the suddenness and volume of your voice taking him aback. He hadn't expected such an immediate reaction, let alone you to believe him so readily. He watches as you straighten up next to him, a mix of surprise and relief washing over him. 
"Y-you did?" he stutters, his heart still racing.
“I mean of course, I’ve had my suspicions. Every time I speak of Superman it makes you turn pink.” You tease him lightly.
Clark feels his cheeks flush with color at your statement, the truth of your words hitting him hard. He blushes even more red as a result, the heat in his face growing in intensity.
He glances at you, a mix of embarrassment and relief in his expression. "I, uh, I didn't think it was that obvious," he mutters, his voice sheepish.
“Only because I know you so well.” You grin proudly. “But, I have another question for you.”
Clark can't help but feel a pang of affection as you grin at him, your confidence and familiarity with him making his heart flutter. He nods, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
"Ask me anything," he says, his voice slightly more relaxed now that the secret is out.
“Does the man of steel really not have time for one of his fans?” You bite down on your lip.
Clark's heart stutters at your words, the change in your tone sending a wave of desire through him. He can feel his own heart rate spike as you bite down on your lip, your eyes filled with a mixture of teasing and want.
He sucks in a breath, his voice slightly hoarse as he manages a response.
"The man of steel has plenty of time for his...biggest fan."
“Biggest fan hm?” You question, sliding onto his lap and straddling his hips.
Clark's breath catches in his throat as you slide onto his lap, your body settling on top of him. He swallows hard, his heart racing as he looks up at you, your face so close to his he can almost taste your breath.
He places his hands tentatively on your hips, his fingers gently gripping the fabric of your clothes as he responds, his voice thick with desire. "The biggest. And the most beautiful."
“Clark..” you lean down, nose brushing against his. “Can I kiss you?”
Clark can feel your breath on his skin as you lean down, your nose brushing against his. His heart hammers in his chest, the sound of your voice sending a wave of anticipation through him. He gazes up at you, his eyes filled with a mix of desire and adoration. 
"Please," he whispers, his voice barely above a breath. "Please...kiss me."
You cup his face, fingers dancing over his skin as you connect your lips softly.
Clark's eyes flutter shut as you cup his face, your fingers tracing gentle paths on his skin. The softness of your touch ignites a fire within him, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that's both gentle and passionate.
He lets out a soft moan, his hands moving from your hips to wrap around your waist, pulling you closer against him.
The kiss quickly turns hungry, your lips part to let his tongue in. Your body is pressed flush against him, hands tangling in his hair as you tug on the roots gently.
Clark's tongue explores your mouth with a hunger that takes him by surprise. He tightens his hold on your waist, pulling you closer against him, his body reacting to every move you make.
He lets out a low moan as you tug on his hair, the feeling sending a wave of pleasure through him. He responds by biting your lip gently, his hands slowly caressing the skin of your back.
You pull away for a breath, Clark's chest heaves as you pull away, his eyes opening slowly to take in the sight of you. Your lips, swollen and glistening from the kiss, make his heart stutter, the need to kiss you again almost overpowering.
He gazes at you in awe for a moment, his breathing ragged, before speaking, his voice slightly hoarse.
"You have no idea what you do to me," he whispers, his hands still holding you close.
“I think I have some idea,” You tease, glancing down at the tent growing in his slacks. “I can feel it, you know.”
Clark follows your gaze, his heart skipping a beat as he sees the effect your presence has on him. He swallows hard, his eyes darting back up to meet yours, a mixture of embarrassment and desire playing across his face.
He responds, his voice low, his fingers gently caressing your hip.
"That's...that's all your fault," he says, his words laced with a hint of accusation and appreciation.
“My fault?” Your hand begins to trail down his chest. “Then I guess I should take responsibility, take care of it.” You murmur, leaning forward to kiss his neck.
Clark's breath hitches as your hand trails down his chest, his heart rate quickening in anticipation. Your touch is fire on his skin, igniting every nerve.
He groans softly as you lean forward to kiss his neck, his head tilting to give you better access. Your words and the feeling of your lips on his skin send a wave of desire through him, his body reacting to your touch.
"Responsibility, huh?" he manages to reply, his voice strained. "I like the sound of that."
“I can finally do what I’ve been dreaming of doing to you..” you whisper into his ear, your hand finally making contact with his erection.
Clark's breath hitches at your words, the sound of your voice in his ear sending a shiver down his spine. He can feel the heat of your body as you lean in closer, your hand finally making contact with his hardness.
He lets out a low moan, his body responding to your touch with an intensity he's never felt before. "Oh fuck..." He looks at you with hooded eyes, his voice thick with need. 
You reach for his shirt, pulling it off of him. “Holy shit, Clark.” Your eyes widen at the sight of his muscles, a soft gasp escaping your lips as you stare.
Clark feels a wave of heat as you pull his shirt off, the air cool against his skin. He watches as your eyes widen at the sight of his muscles, the look of desire in your eyes making his heart race.
He knows how strong he is, how powerful his body is. But hearing your reaction, seeing the effect he has on you, it's something else entirely.
"You like what you see?" he asks, a hint of teasing in his voice, his muscles flexing under your gaze.
You lean forward, kissing his chest. “You have no idea.” You mutter, fingers trailing over each muscle as your other hand continues to massage his clothed hardness.
Clark's breath catches in his throat, his body reacting to your touch, your kisses on his chest sending waves of pleasure through him. He can't help but arch into your touch, his muscles responding to your caress.
He lets out a low moan, his voice strained as he speaks, "Oh God...keep doing that..." He's lost in a haze of pleasure and desire, his eyes half-lidded as he gazes at you.
Clark's breath catches in his throat as your kisses move lower and lower down his stomach, each touch sending a wave of pleasure through him. He gasps as your tongue teases over his abs, his eyes watching your every move.
His hands grip the edge of the couch as you work on his belt, his desire for you growing with each second. He lifts his hips slightly to help you remove his pants, the feeling of your hands on him almost too much to bear.
Once his pants and boxers are removed, he's left naked in front of you, sitting on the couch with his legs spread apart. He gazes at you, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath.
He's completely under your spell, his entire being focused on you and only you. "Come here." He reaches for you, his voice soft and needy. 
You bring your lips to his once again, the kiss passionate and hungry. Clark responds to your passionate kiss with a fervor of his own, pulling you closer against his body, his hands roaming over your back, your hips, everywhere he can reach. He's lost in the kiss, in the feeling of your body against his.
He can't get enough of you, his need for you growing with every passing second. He moans softly into your mouth, his body reacting to your touch, his hard length pressed against your thigh.
You reach to grasp his erection, his thick cock barely fitting in your grasp. You begin to move your hand, slowly jerking him off as the kiss becomes more intense.
You pull away from his lips to catch your breath, your eyes hooded in desire. “You’re huge..”
Clark's breath catches at your words, the praise sending a shiver down his spine. He can feel your hand on him, stroking him slowly, the feeling overwhelming yet perfect.
“It’s perfect.. you’re perfect.” You slip off of his lap, settling between his muscular thighs.
Clark's heart flutters at your words, affection washing over him. He watches you move down between his thighs, his breath catching in his throat at the sight of you so close to his cock. He reaches down, gently running his fingers through your hair, his voice soft but filled with need.
"I could say the same about you," he says, his eyes meeting yours, his body alive with anticipation. "You're...you're incredible."
You lean in closer, wrapping your soft lips around the head of his cock, your eyes fluttering shut as you taste the salty sweetness of his precum. The room is filled with the sounds of your gentle slurps and Clark's moans of pleasure. 
Your hand grips the base firmly, stroking in sync with your mouth as you take more and more of him in, inch by glorious inch. You feel him swell in your grip, the veins pulsing with his excitement. 
You moan around him, the vibration sending shockwaves through his body. His hand tightens in your hair, guiding your pace as your tongue swirls around the tip, teasing the sensitive spot beneath the head. 
You look up at him through hooded eyes, watching his reaction as you deepthroat him, his face a mask of pure ecstasy. The intimacy of the moment is intoxicating, both of you lost in the sensual dance of your mouth and his cock, the tension building as the pleasure crescendos.
With every bob of your head, Clark's moans become louder, his eyes never leaving yours. The connection between you is palpable, the intimacy of the moment amplifying every sensation. 
His cock grows in your mouth, the taste of him driving you wild. You savor the feeling of his hands tangled in your hair, guiding you, the power of his grip speaking to your desire. His eyes, filled with lust and admiration, bore into yours, creating a silent conversation of pleasure that needs no words. 
Your tongue laps at his shaft, tracing the veins that stand out against his skin, your mouth creating a warm, wet heaven around his length. Each stroke, each suck, each flick of your tongue is a declaration of your adoration, a silent promise to bring him to the brink of ecstasy and back again. 
The room feels like it's spinning around you, the air thick with passion as you both give into the carnality of the act. Your cheeks hollow with the effort of taking him so deep, but it's a challenge you eagerly accept, the thrill of his pleasure reflected in every whimper that passes your lips.
You continue to worship him with your mouth, your eyes never leaving his. The way his hips buck slightly with each deep throat, the way his abs tighten as he holds back, it's all driving you crazy. The sound of his breath hitching and his fingers tightening in your hair sends a thrill through you, making your pussy throb with need. 
You moan around him, the vibrations echoing along his length, and he can't help but thrust a little deeper into your welcoming heat. The taste of him, the feel of him, it's all you can focus on as you give him the blowjob of his life, eager to show him just how much he means to you, to show him the depth of your desire. 
You feel the tension in his body building, the way his thighs tense around you, and you know he's close. The air in the room crackles with energy, the heat from both your bodies blending into an intoxicating cloud of lust. 
You don't stop, you can't stop, you want him to remember this moment, to feel the intensity of your passion every time he thinks of you. 
You continue to devour him with your mouth, your eyes locked onto his, which are filled with a mix of disbelief and pure bliss. The connection between you is electric, your every movement a silent testament to the desire that's been simmering beneath the surface. 
Each time your lips meet the base of his cock, you can feel his thighs tense against your cheeks, and the soft groan that escapes from his lips sends shivers down your spine. You're both drowning in the intensity of the moment, your hearts pounding in time with the rhythm of your mouth and his hips. 
You can feel him swelling even more, and the knowledge that you're the one bringing him to this peak sends a thrill through you. You suck harder, faster, each motion a silent plea for him to let go. And when he does, with a final, desperate thrust into your throat, the salty warmth of his release fills your mouth, and you swallow eagerly, relishing the proof of his pleasure. 
You pull back slowly, licking your lips, watching as he comes down from the high with a sigh of satisfaction. The air is thick with the scent of sex and love, and it's all you can do to not climb onto him and feel him deep inside you, to complete this perfect moment.
Clark pulls you to him, his lip moving to your neck as he gently slides his hand under your skirt. The fabric whispers against your skin as he reaches for the waistband of your panties, his touch sending shockwaves through your body. His fingertips graze over the soft fabric before he hooks it with his thumbs, pulling them down slowly. 
His eyes never leave yours, filled with love and a desperate need to feel all of you. As the last of your barriers fall away, his erection pressed against your bare thigh, hot and demanding. His hands caress your skin as if it were the most precious thing in the world, his kisses trailing down to your collarbone, each one a promise of the passion to come. 
The air is charged with anticipation, your hearts beating in sync as you both give in to the intensity of your desires. He lifts you onto his lap, his strong arms wrapping around your waist, holding you tight as if he never wants to let you go. You can feel the head of his cock nudging at your wet entrance, begging for more, but he takes his time, kissing you deeply and savoring the moment. 
His hands cup your breasts, his thumbs flicking over your nipples in time with the rhythm of your kisses, sending waves of pleasure crashing through you. The room is a whirlwind of passion and love as you both succumb to the depth of your feelings, the promise of ultimate intimacy just a breath away.
Clark's hands hold your hips as he guides you down onto his cock, the thickness of him stretching you open as you moan with pleasure. He's gentle, so gentle, as he makes love to you, each thrust coming slow and steady, as if he's savoring every moment. His thumb finds your clit, pressing down in a firm but tender rhythm that sends electric jolts through your body. 
You lean back, gripping onto the couch cushions as he fills you completely, the sensation of his warmth and size overwhelming your senses. His eyes never leave yours, the connection between you growing stronger with each shared breath. Each stroke of his thumb sends you spiraling closer to the edge, and your moans become more desperate, your body begging for release. 
His own breathing becomes more ragged, his eyes dark with desire as he watches you come apart in his arms. The room seems to fade away, leaving only the two of you, lost in the perfect harmony of love and passion.
Clark’s eyes bore into you as he carefully guides his cock inside you, his movements tender and deliberate. The way you straddle him, the way your pussy clenches around him, it’s like nothing he’s ever felt before. His thumb continues its delicate dance on your clit, his touch a masterpiece of passion. 
Your eyes are glazed with lust, your breath coming in short, needy gasps as he takes you higher and higher. Each stroke is a declaration of his love, a promise of the intensity to come. Your moans become louder, your body moving with his in a rhythm that feels like it's been written in the stars. 
His thumb presses harder, his hips moving faster, and you feel the first tremors of your orgasm beginning to build. The tension in the room is palpable, each touch a spark that ignites the bonfire of desire within you both. You lean into him, your breasts brushing against his chest, your body craving the closeness that only he can provide. 
The sound of your skin slapping against his fills the air, a testament to the love you share. You're both lost in the moment, in the symphony of your bodies, and the crescendo is just within reach. Your nails dig into his shoulders as you get closer, your breathing shallow and erratic. 
And when the climax hits, it's like a supernova, explosive and all-consuming, leaving you both gasping for air. He whispers sweet nothings into your ear, his voice a balm to your soul as the waves of pleasure wash over you.
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lemonlover1110 · 6 months ago
Text
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭
Zayne
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Pairing: Zayne x f!Reader
Summary: When his son says that you're the favorite parent, all of Zayne's rules go out the door.
Warnings: Fluff
*First time writing for him and it's a dad drabble🥹 will definitely be doing an actual oneshot for him in the future
Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi
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“Liam, finish your food.” Zayne tells the three-year-old, pushing the plate towards the child. Liam pushes it away again, shaking his head in response. He’s eaten a good portion of the food, leaving behind the most important part. “You won’t grow big and strong if you don’t finish your vegetables.”
“I don’t want more.” The boy says, and Zayne sighs. How should he proceed? Zayne’s dealt with a lot in his life, though this has to be the hardest thing he’s dealt with so far. A human so small is causing him to gray earlier than usual.
“If you don’t finish, you won’t get dessert.” Zayne threatens, and it makes the child’s little eyebrows furrow. He crosses his tiny arms before claiming,
“This is why I love mommy more.”
Zayne doesn’t get hurt over trivial things. A child claiming that it has a favorite parent is something that is momentarily, and it’s often decided by which parent spoils them the most. So it shouldn’t hurt when his son says that you’re the child’s favorite parent, right?
“That’s fine. You’re still not getting dessert.” Zayne tries to play it off as if the words don’t sting. The child begins to eat his vegetables since he doesn’t want to miss out on the sweet treat. Even if he isn’t the favorite parent, he’s doing his job right.
Though things begin to change around the home, and you’re quick to notice. Zayne is more lenient, allowing Liam to get away with things that he would’ve gotten scolded for before. Many rules that had been set by Zayne have gone out the door. The child is doing just fine without the rules, but you can’t help but question your husband while you’re putting away the groceries,
“I thought you wouldn’t buy this brand of cereal for him because it’s too unhealthy.” You point out, examining the box of cereal that you hold in your hand. He hums in response.
“He pointed at it and said he wanted to try it so I got it for him.” He answers, and you furrow your brows. It’s so unlike him. You don’t know how you feel about this version of your husband, but you do miss him being overprotective over his son.
“What’s up with you?” You question, and he tries to act like this is completely normal behavior from him.
“What do you mean?” He responds, and you have to walk over to him. He’s in the middle of putting away something, and you snatch it from his hands and put it on the counter before your hands cup his face.
“Who are you and what did you do to my husband?” You watch him avert his gaze, which is a dead giveaway that something is wrong with him. “Why aren’t you being overprotective of Liam?”
“He said he loves you more.” He admits, and it makes you want to laugh, but you hold it back. It melts your heart to see just how much Zayne values his son’s opinion, but he should know that he shouldn’t take everything to heart. “ Maybe I’m doing too much, and I don’t want him to hate me.”
“Liam, come here, honey!” You yell, and while you wait for the three year old to make his way to the kitchen, you inform Zayne of a crucial detail, “I scolded him earlier for something.”
“What?” Liam asks as he enters the kitchen. You let go of Zayne and look at your son.
“Who do you love more, mommy or daddy?” You question, and the child looks back and forth between you and Zayne. And just as you predicted, he points to Zayne.
“Daddy isn’t mean.” Liam tells you, obviously still mad about what you did earlier. You roll your eyes while Zayne sheepishly smiles. And he really let his son’s words affect him this much?
“Why are you smiling?” You don’t even have to look back at Zayne to know that he is. He lets out a chuckle, relieved to know that Liam doesn’t actually have a favorite parent.
“Sorry, my love.” Zayne kisses your temple before reaching for the cereal that he just bought, and throwing it in the trash. He won’t be needing that anymore. “I have to clean out the pantry as well.” 
You walk over to the pantry to see what he means, and your eyes widen at the amount of junk food that he bought to please his son. You can’t help but laugh, noticing the lengths your husband will go to make sure that he’s the favorite parent.
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gay-dorito-dust · 2 years ago
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Would you be willing to write a Miguel x Spider!Reader oneshot where they’re arguing over something the reader did on a mission. And in the heat of an argument, Miguel yells “Because I love you!” at the perfectly wrong time, revealing why he cares about the reader’s safety.
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‘What the hell was that back there. You could’ve jeopardised the whole mission with that reckless stunt you pulled back there!’ Miguel barked, ripping off mask the first moment moment he could; Hellfire were setting ablaze to his beautiful scarlet eyes that were zeroed in on you as the anger, the frustration upon his face became prominent the more he closed the distance between you.
‘When will you let this go, Miguel. When we became Spider-Man we knew the risks that we were running with-‘ ‘so you thought it’d be better to take a running head start by taking the leap and then diving headfirst into them?!’ Miguel cuts you off and with an indignant huff he adds, ‘you don’t get extra points for being reckless, this isn’t some little game that you can just come back to when you feel like it. No, what we do is a full time commitment with no room for last minute deviations just because you were feeling more heroic.’
You grit your teeth. You respected Miguel, you truly did and at one point in time you wanted to do right by his little rule book of how to be a great hero. However you soon learned that it’s better to play by your own rules rather then it was to play by those made by others and slowly but surly found a method that worked for you. For no two methods were the same when it came to protecting and saving people but if they both end in the same conclusion, then no one should be able to raise an issue with it. At the end of the day you and Miguel saved people from a much bigger problem if left unchecked; so why was it that all of a sudden he had an issue with your methods?
It never upset him this much before, so why now. Did he think you as incapable? As unreliable? As untrustworthy to fully let you handle a situation on your own? Whatever it was it only proved in pissing you off despite your semi-injured state; you didn’t care that you’ve gotten hurt, you’ve gotten hurt plenty of times before and he never once batted an eye or exemplified his emotions as he did as of right now. You could barely get a read on the guy as he stood mere feet away, chest heaving even though he wasn’t out of breath, eyes wide and his hair slightly disheveled from the way he had torn off his mask earlier.
And yet you couldn’t help but find him beautiful in his anger, for it was like witnessing the makings of a Greek tragedy; beautifully written, yet so heartbreakingly tragic.
‘Why does it matter?’ You spat, getting up, despite your injured leg’s desire to buckle beneath the weight of not only you but the situation at hand. You saw the briefest movements of Miguel’s arms almost stretch out to instinctively catch you but stopping midway through the motion before going slack at his sides once more; as though remembering why he was mad at you in the first place. ‘It never mattered before, so why does it matter now? You don’t hound the others for doing it so why is it me that’s getting shit on for doing the same when I ain’t the first to do so!’
‘Because I love you!’ Miguel exclaimed.
The silence afterwards was almost deafening. Miguel’s outburst quieted you quickly as a thousand and one thoughts raced in your head; how long? why now? Was this merely a ruse to silence you so he could badger on at you for your supposed mistake? You didn’t know what to make of anything anymore now that he said that. You didn’t want to believe it for starters on the basis that not once had he ever shown interest in you, if anything he made it apparent to push you away or avoid you entirely from any and all interaction, and even when he did it was comprised of short responses that left the attempts at conversation to die as an overwhelming awkwardness forced you into leaving him be.
‘What?’
‘I love you.’ Miguel repeated, softer this time.
‘I get that but why-‘ ‘haven’t I shown it until now? As stupid as it sounds but I didn’t want you to get hurt because of me and look where you are,’ he gestured to your injured state, ‘hurt because of me.’ He adds defeatedly. You were about to open your mouth when Miguel raised a hand, indicating that he wasn’t finished, ‘I know I haven’t given you any reason to believe me when I say that I love you. I avoid you like the plague and I push you away whenever I see you starting to get too close and respond in a clipped tone of voice so that you’d loose interest and move on to talk to someone else.’
He stopped talking to move in closer to you, grasping you by arms with a firm grip as all the anger in his face seemingly having been melted away. The raging hellfire that once consumed his scarlet eyes in their entirety had been diminished to that of dying ambers, unveiling his admiration, his worry, his guilt and most importantly, his love; the sneer now long gone was replaced by a softer more tender expression that didn’t hide away the worry lines that were deeply etched into his skin. ‘I don’t deserve you, I’m not worth having you because sooner or later you’ll see me the way I’ve always seen myself and I’d rather you be as far away as possible when that happens.’ Miguel said, making sure he was maintaining eye contact with you the entire time to prove that he was being wholeheartedly genuine, not wanting to lie to you about something as personal as his feelings; He’s done that for long enough, Miguel knew his breaking point was upon the incline and seeing you act the way you did during the mission only fast forward it.
‘Yet for some inexplicable reason I can’t stop myself for wanting to protect you, to make sure you’re safe, to make sure that you never come to harm. At first I thought it was because I was looking out for a teammate, making sure you didn’t slip up and cause more potential problems for the rest of us, making sure that you didn’t let a single perpetrator slip but soon I learnt it was far more then just simply looking after a teammate...’ Miguel paused to blink away the images regarding of the nightmares he’d get concerning you, which were few and far between but those times were enough to suffocate him with fear. ‘It was something more and I grew scared, I grew scared because I know what it’s like to loose it all but for some reason I also knew that loosing you would just be the nail in the coffin for me.’
Miguel admits as he presses his forehead against your own, his hands trailing from up your arms until they’re caressing the skin of either side of your neck between calloused thumbs. He closing his eyes and allows himself to breath you in, reminding himself that you were here and that he managed to get to you before anything else could, that he kept you safe, not from all harm but at least from some of it and that was good enough but he knew deep down that he needed the do better. ‘Don’t make me imagine a life without you,’ he whispers, pressing his forehead against yours just that tiny bit harder as his fingertips found their home where your pulse points were to remind him that you weren’t gone completely from his grasp, ‘for I don’t think I’m strong enough to withstand that reality.’
‘You don’t have to.’ You told him softly, lifting your hands to caresses the skin of his cheeks and feeling him effectively melt within your hold. ‘Not anymore.’
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yooniivrse · 2 months ago
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uh oh, i'm falling in love | myg
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summary. the night that yoongi realises you might be a lot more than just a close friend to his heart.
pairing: yoongi x reader
genre: fluff, best friends to ??, one sided love? (up to reader's interpretation)
word count: 1.5k
warnings: none <333
notes: this was a request from my love, @perfectlyoongi-main. you can find the ask for this oneshot here. listening to labyrinth by taylor swift on repeat while writing this definitely made me feel very very single, but i loved writing this sm. as always, likes, comments, reblogs, asks and feedback is so so appreciated!! i hope you guys enjoy <333
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main masterlist
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You stop in front of the small, old-fashioned photo booth, hands on your hips as you look it over with mild scepticism.
It’s a flimsy structure tucked in a quiet corner of the mall, slightly worn down with chipped paint and a fading sign hanging above it. It’s the kind of booth that hasn’t been updated in years, where the pictures are low-quality and slightly off-colour, but you look at it with the excitement of someone who’s just discovered a hidden gem.
“I don’t think we’ll both fit inside,” you muse, tilting your head as if a different angle might magically increase its size.
Yoongi stands beside you, hands shoved into the pockets of his dark denim jacket, eyeing the booth with a barely hidden look of reluctance.
If he's being honest, he’d much rather be back home with you, watching movies in the comfort of his living room, eating pizza, and letting the night pass by as it usually does. It’s how he’s spent his birthdays for the past three years since meeting you, a quiet tradition he’d grown to look forward to. But this year, you’d insisted he get out of the house, brimming with excitement at the idea of taking him somewhere, refusing to tell him what you had planned.
And even though he could’ve turned you down, Yoongi knew he wouldn’t. Not with the way your face lit up when he agreed, that joyful glint in your eyes that made his heart beat just a little faster.
“Maybe we should just do this somewhere else,” he suggests, already eyeing the dim mall corridor as an escape route. “There’s no way we’re both fitting inside unless you sit on my lap or something.”
He means it as a joke, but the moment the words leave his mouth, he realises the weight they carry. His heart skips a beat as you turn to him with that playful smile he knows so well, eyes sparkling with a mix of determination and mischief.
“I don’t think—”
“Oh, come on! It’s your birthday,” you say, nudging him with your elbow. “And we’ve been best friends for long enough that it won’t be weird.”
Yoongi opens his mouth to respond, but the words seem to disappear before they can reach his lips. The suggestion should feel casual, even funny, but there’s a strange tension that settles in his chest, stopping him from brushing it off like he usually would. It’s the same tension that’s been creeping up more often these days, the one that leaves him feeling almost breathless whenever he’s around you.
“Unless,” you add with a sly smile, your expression feigning innocence, “you’d rather sit on my lap?”
He chuckles, the sound more nervous than he intended. “Fine. Whatever,” he mutters, rolling his eyes. But as he steps forward, he feels a strange warmth creeping into his cheeks, something uncomfortably close to anticipation.
You squeeze into the booth first, settling onto the small, tacky leather stool with a satisfied grin. You pat your lap playfully, but Yoongi only shakes his head, stepping into the cramped space behind you.
His heart thrums erratically as he settles onto the stool, his knees brushing against yours as he wraps his arms loosely around your waist, pulling you just close enough that you both fit within the booth’s limited space. You lean back against him, so naturally that he wonders if you can feel the way his heart races at the contact.
“See?” you say, glancing back at him with a grin. “This isn’t so bad.”
The camera’s light starts blinking, giving a brief warning before the first picture snaps. You immediately turn to him, nudging his cheek to bring him closer, and in the tight space, it’s all he can do to keep his balance as he leans in, resting his chin on your shoulder.
“Smile!” you chirp just as the flash goes off.
The light catches him off guard, and he blinks, momentarily dazed by the brightness. He hears you laughing softly, your shoulders shaking against him, and he’s hit with a wave of warmth, one that spreads through him as he watches you, momentarily forgetting about the camera entirely.
With a slight grin, you shift in his lap, angling the two of you for another shot as the timer counts down again.
You’re so close he can feel the faint trace of your perfume, the warmth of your skin, the rhythm of your breathing as it syncs with his. And for some reason, the thought of being this close to you—closer than he ever thought he’d be—stirs something unexpected within him.
Another flash, capturing you mid-laugh, oblivious to the storm of emotions brewing within him.
As the countdown begins again, you glance back, your gaze meeting his, and Yoongi feels himself freeze. There’s a hint of something in your eyes—an invitation, perhaps, or maybe a question—that makes his heart race all over again.
His eyes drift to your smile, the soft curve of your lips, the brightness of your gaze, and he can’t ignore the way his own heartbeat echoes in his ears, loud enough that he’s sure you can hear it too.
The timer clicks down to the next flash, and he forces a smile for the camera, though his mind is elsewhere entirely. He’s trying to make sense of the strange rush of feelings flooding through him, feelings that have been building up slowly, subtly, over time.
The booth is quiet now, the only sound the soft hum of machinery and your shared breaths. You tilt your head slightly, resting it against his shoulder, and his entire world narrows down to this single moment. Yoongi feels his arms tightening around you, an instinctual gesture that’s both protective and vulnerable.
The timer clicks down to one last shot. "Alright, funny face!" you call out, pulling an exaggerated grin, and he chuckles, trying to shake off the gravity of his own emotions as he mirrors your expression. The flash captures the both of you, frozen in a moment of joy.
As the final picture fades, you stay in his arms a beat longer than necessary, and the realisation hits him like a tidal wave, too strong to ignore. This isn’t just friendship, he thinks, feeling a pang of something so overwhelming that it borders on painful. Somewhere along the line, he’s fallen in love with you, and he doesn’t know if there’s a way back.
But you’re oblivious, still laughing as you climb off his lap, crouching down to grab the strip of photos as they print out. “Look at this!” you say, waving them in front of his face. “I'm definitely hanging these up on my fridge.”
He blinks, his gaze lingering on you as you sort through the photos, laughing at the silly faces, the close-ups of your laughter, and his slightly dazed expressions. You’re so focused on the photos that you don’t notice the way he’s looking at you now, eyes soft with something deeper, something he can no longer deny.
“See, I told you that it'd be fun.” You glance up, still beaming, and he forces himself to nod, plastering a smile over the vulnerability he feels beneath the surface.
“Yeah,” he says quietly, his voice almost lost in the small space. “I guess it was.”
But even as he smiles, the weight of his realisation settles heavily in his chest, pressing down on him with a strange mixture of longing and fear.
He wonders if he’ll ever find the courage to tell you, or if he’ll spend his days hiding this quiet, aching love, content to stay by your side as a friend, the way he’s always been.
You turn to him, still laughing over one of the photos. “Hey,” you say softly, a note of seriousness creeping into your voice. “Thanks for tonight. I know this isn’t your usual birthday thing, but… it means a lot.”
And for a brief moment, he thinks about telling you everything. He thinks about confessing, about admitting that the thought of spending his life without you, without these small moments of joy and laughter, terrifies him more than anything else. But the words catch in his throat, stuck beneath the weight of a love he’s too afraid to speak out loud.
“Anytime,” he finally says, his voice a whisper, barely audible above the hum of the booth.
You look at him for a moment longer, a soft smile playing on your lips before you hand him one of the strips of photos. As you walk out of the booth, he follows behind you, trying to ignore the ache in his chest, the quiet, unspoken confession that lingers in the space between you.
Maybe one day, he'll find the courage to tell you how he feels; maybe one day, he'll get to be more than just your friend.
But until then, his love will stay hidden in the attic of his thoughts, known only to him.
And for now, that's enough.
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