#like he sets boundaries and I simply just. ask! I talk to him | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pin-k-ink · 7 days ago

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OFF THE RECORD ⋆✦⋆ gojo satoru

synopsis ➸ you know gojo too well to believe he’s here for a quick fuck. he’s here for a favor—one you have no intention of granting. too bad he’s never been good at taking no for an answer.

tags ➸ implied former student/teacher relationship, slight age gap, friends with benefits, possessive behavior, mild dom/sub themes, power play, manipulation, daddy kink, mild objectification, dirty talking, semi-public/public sex, mention of past sexual encounters, implied blackmail (it’s really not as bad as you think)

wc ➸ 10.9k

The steamy tendrils still clung to your skin as you stepped out of the shower, toweling off with a contented sigh. Mornings like this—quiet, peaceful routines before diving headfirst into the chaotic world of jujutsu—were increasingly rare these days. So you tried to savor each precious moment while it lasted.

With the towel secured around your body, you padded toward the bedroom to get dressed for yet another long day at headquarters. However, the second you stepped over the threshold, the hairs along your nape instantly prickled upright. A presence. An unmistakable shift in the air currents that could only mean—

"Well, good morning, gorgeous! Sleep well?"

You barely stifled the startled yelp as Gojo Satoru's cheerful baritone seemed to resonate from directly behind you. Whirling around, sure enough, there he was—all towering height, shredded muscle, and bright eyes glinting with clear amusement. How someone so powerful could also be so utterly shameless sometimes, you'd never know.

Doing your best to ignore the heat flooding your cheeks, you planted your hands on your hips in a stern facsimile of composure. "Satoru...what an unexpected surprise. Here I thought teachers were supposed to set good examples about respecting boundaries, not traipsing into former students' homes unannounced."

Rather than appear even remotely chagrined, Gojo simply chuckled and leaned back against your kitchen counter as if he owned the place. You watched in mild annoyance as his gaze slowly trailed up and down your towel-clad figure with undisguised appreciation.

"Hey now, no need for such icy formalities between us old friends," he chided, the barest hints of a smirk tugging at those infuriatingly full lips. "Besides, when have I ever cared about doing what's expected of me, hm? That's like...95% of my appeal, babe."

Rolling your eyes, you huffed out a resigned sigh and crossed the room to your closet, firmly squelching the instincts that urged you to yank the towel higher and more securely over your body. Gojo had seen—and thoroughly enjoyed—far more of you than this in the past. No sense getting flustered over his blazing regard now.

"Right, so does this impromptu visit have an actual purpose?" You shot him a pointed look over your shoulder as you fished out a crisp blouse and trousers to wear to HQ. "Or are you just being a pain as usual and raiding my fridge for a sugar fix again?"

You heard Gojo's low snort of amusement before his heavy footfalls sounded, clearly bringing him closer despite your protestations. "What can I say? Your kitchen is better stocked with sweets than most convenience stores. I can't help craving a little nibble now and then..."

The sultry undercurrent in his tone triggered a fresh blaze of heat along your nape. You could practically feel the smoldering weight of Gojo's stare boring into your ass as you bent to rifle through your bottom dresser drawer.

"But you're onto something with that other theory as well," he continued in a lower, more contemplative register. All traces of levity seemed to evaporate as his presence loomed larger behind you. "I did actually come to ask a favor of my very favorite former pupil. An important one that I wouldn't bother you about if the stakes weren't so high."

Curiosity and trepidation warred within your chest at the unexpected gravity clouding Gojo's usually buoyant candor. You instinctively straightened, clutching your clothes to your chest as you slowly turned to face him once more.

And just like that, the heated tension seemed to ratchet up several palpable notches as your eyes met and held in the claustrophobic space. Gojo's sculptured features had taken on a severe, intense edge—all sharp angles and tightly leashed power that instantly siphoned the breath from your lungs.

Suddenly, his earlier "playful" flirting and teasing manner seemed less like an act and more like a fragile facade barely containing his true tempestuous nature. You swallowed hard against the liquid lick of thrilling trepidation skating down your spine as Gojo maintained that weighty, piercing stare for several moments longer.

"...Is everything okay?" You finally managed in a hushed murmur, scarcely recognizing your own voice under the abrupt spell of Gojo's domineering energy. "What could possibly have you riled up enough to ditch the flippant act?"

Rather than immediately answering, Gojo closed the remaining distance between you with two long, purposeful strides. You had to crane your head back slightly to maintain eye contact as his powerful silhouette utterly consumed your space—the scalding brand of his body heat and crisp, masculine scent enveloping you from all sides.

"Believe me, kitten...if I came here for anything even remotely fun or pleasure-oriented, you wouldn't need to ask," he rumbled at last, voice pitched low enough to instill a full-body shiver along your nerves.

One of Gojo's large hands came up, and you froze as the rough pads of his knuckles grazed a feather-light caress along the line of your jaw. His thumb swiped over the seam of your lower lip in an utterly artless, possessive sweep—smoldering gaze following the motion with incendiary focus.

"I'd already have that smart mouth wrapped around my cock doing something far more useful than talking..."

Despite the crudity of his words, you couldn't quite stifle the punched-out whimper that slipped free at the graphic implication. Gojo's pupils blew fractionally wider in answer, tongue darting out to lave his lower lip as if tasting the charged undercurrents now rippling between you.

"Lucky for you, this is actually about business," he continued in that same resonant timbre that seemed to spark straight between your thighs each time his rich cadence washed over you. "The kind of serious business that even a lazy pervert like me can't afford...distractions for at the moment, got it?"

You managed a jerky nod, too disoriented by the heady spiral of desire cloying at your senses to do much else. Gojo's expression seemed to tighten further—a muscle feathering in his chiseled jaw as if steeling himself for whatever came next as he stepped back a bit.

"Itadori Yuji is scheduled for execution..." The blunt statement punched out like a missile deployment, brutally shredding the increasingly rapacious atmosphere between you. "And one way or another, I need that sentence postponed before it's too late."

You immediately shook your head, mouth set in a grim line. "Postponing Itadori Yuji's execution? That's not going to happen, Satoru."

His brows pinched slightly at your blunt refusal. "This is serious, kitten. That kid is instrumental to—"

"Don't you think I know how serious this is?" you cut him off, firming your voice into an authoritative tone. "I work directly under the higher-ups, remember? I'm well aware of the situation with Sukuna’s vessel and the potential ramifications of his continued existence."

Squaring your shoulders, you leveled Gojo with an unwavering stare. "My answer is final. Bringing this to the elders would be pointless at best, and could potentially jeopardize my position if they see it as insubordination. I'm not sacrificing everything I've worked for just because you showed up and gave me those stupid puppy dog eyes."

Rather than back down, Gojo simply regarded you with a contemplative tilt of his head—bright gaze assessing as if turning over your words from every possible angle. You could practically see the gears turning behind those piercing blue irises as he recalibrated his approach.

"Okay, let's table the business side of things for now," he said at last, tone losing some of its previous urgency. Straightening his body, Gojo prowled a step closer—effectively reclaiming the charged atmosphere from earlier. "Maybe you just need some...persuading to see reason."

You refused to be baited so easily, keeping your expression coolly neutral even as his scalding presence flooded your personal space once more. "I'm not some hormonal teenager letting her heart sway business decisions anymore, Satoru. Those games won't work."

Gojo hummed softly in response, head cocking as his lips curved into a slow, molten smirk. "We'll see about that..."

Without warning, his hands clamped down on your hips, thumbs digging in with delicious friction as he hauled you flush against the solid wall of his torso. You couldn't withhold the tiny gasp that punched free at the sudden, searing contact—every ridge and cording muscle of Gojo's powerful physique branding itself against your towel-clad frame.

"Does this position feel...familiar to you at all, gorgeous?" he murmured in a honeyed rasp right against the whorl of your ear. His nose trailed a path along your jaw as he dipped to mouth steamy, lingering kisses down the fragrant column of your throat. "Maybe sparks a few memories of the last time you found yourself pinned underneath me...crying out for more the whole night through?"

A shudder rippled down your spine at the crude allusion to your long-ago graduation celebration with Gojo. You remembered that encounter vividly—every slick rasp of skin against skin, the sweltering tangle of limbs, the exquisite ache of being split open on his thick cock over and over until the entire room reeked of your joined passion.

Gojo merely chuckled at your flustered squirming, nosing aside the collar of your towel to lave a heated path along your collarbone. "Mmm...that's right. There were points that night where I had my cock buried so fuckin' deep in this perfect pussy of yours that you could taste it on the back of your tongue with every breath."

You bit back a shuddering whimper at the crude imagery, willpower rapidly crumbling beneath his carnal onslaught. Despite your best efforts, the memories he so skillfully stoked were stoking liquid tendrils of arousal thrumming to life between your thighs. Gojo's grin stretched wider as you unconsciously arched into his scorching frame.

"Always did love ruining you on my dick that first time," he rumbled with blatant gratification against your heated skin. "Watching those gorgeous eyes glaze over while I split you open again and again until you passed out..."

Abruptly, Gojo detached his mouth from the thundering pulse at your jugular with one final lingering sweep of his sinful tongue. Smirking down at your glazed, panting expression, he tucked an errant lock of hair behind your ear.

"But hey...while fun memories are nice, I'd rather make some new ones together after work," he said, suddenly all casual nonchalance once more as he meandered towards the door. "I'll pick you up from HQ when your shift is over and we can...discuss this Itadori thing some more in private. That sound good to you, babe?"

You blinked rapidly, trying to reassemble your scattered thoughts as the searing proximity of Gojo's presence withdrew—leaving you bereft and utterly unbalanced by the shift.

"Don't worry your pretty head over giving me an answer," Gojo called over his shoulder as he palmed the doorknob. "I already know you'll say yes when I remind you again how much that tight little pussy loves being split open on my—"

The door snapped shut with a hollow thud, cutting off the rest of his filthy promise. Though the last rakish wink he slanted your way before departing was more than enough to sear the implication deep into your psyche.

Sinking heavily back against the wall, you fought to regain your equilibrium—limbs quaking and breath escaping in ragged pants that did nothing to dissuade the rising tide of feverish arousal still gripping your core. Gojo had utterly unraveled you into a breathless, squirming mess from just a few suggestive caresses and searing endearments.

And despite your best efforts, you got the gnawing suspicion he'd made up his mind to thoroughly capitalize on—and ruthlessly extend—that molten state when you inevitably saw him again tonight.

The long hours crept by at an agonizing pace as you tried to focus on your duties at headquarters. But the memory of Gojo's heated presence that morning, his crude allusions to your long-ago passionate tryst, made it utterly impossible to concentrate.

You vividly recalled the way his powerful frame had caged you against the wall, face nuzzling along your flushed throat as that rich, smoky timbre painted filthy promises about thoroughly splitting you open again soon. Just the phantom whisper of Gojo's searing lips tracing your thundering pulse was enough to catalyze wild tremors of molten arousal deep in your core.

Each time you shifted in your seat or bent over the piles of paperwork, you could've sworn a delirious ache throbbed between your thighs—muscles fluttering with unbearable emptiness. Like they instinctively yearned to be stretched taut around the thick, punishing girth of Gojo's cock once more, just like that rapturous night of your graduation celebration.

The explicit images and flashes of sensation made concentrating an exercise in futility. Only your rigid adherence to professionalism and composure prevented you from squirming like an utter harlot right there in front of your subordinates.

By the time the evening hours finally rolled around, you felt strung as taut as a high wire—electrified nerves screaming for any sort of reprieve from Gojo's lingering psychic imprint. So you hastily packed your bags and paperwork, determined to slip out before he had a chance to accost you again.

However, the second you passed through the main entrance gates, a powerful hand shot out to clamp around your bicep in an authoritative grip. You barely contained the strangled gasp as Gojo's sheer masculine presence enveloped you, dragging you into the shadowed seclusion of a nearby alcove.

The cool stone bit into your back as he firmly levered your wrists overhead, utterly pinning you in place with his hulking silhouette. Gojo's piercing blue eyes glinted in the dim light, scorching a path down your disheveled figure with undisguised intent.

"Leaving so soon?" The deep, resonant timbre of his voice washed over you in smoky tendrils, already catalyzing a fresh blaze of arousal in your veins. "And here I was looking forward to picking up where we left off earlier..."

To emphasize his point, Gojo surged forward until every inch of his powerful frame molded against yours in a delicious, searing brand. You whimpered softly as his weight pinned you fully, feeling the unmistakable rigid line of his erection notching against your lower belly.

Gojo ducked his head with a low rumble of approval, searing lips and tongue mapping a scorching path along the fragrant hollow of your throat. You instinctively tilted your head aside to grant him better access, shuddering helplessly as he indulged in long, openmouthed draughts of your scent and flushed skin.

"F-Fuck...Satoru, not here!" The words emerged in a reedy, breathless whine against your better judgment as his wicked mouth found that sensitive bundle of nerves just below your ear. You writhed beneath the slow torment with increasing desperation. "Anyone could catch us...this is crazy!"

Rather than immediately address your token protests, Gojo merely chuckled—the warm puffs of his amusement ghosting deliciously along your tingling nerves as he mouthed a stinging graze against your racing pulse. One of his large, calloused palms slid down to engulf your hip in a possessive squeeze, already kneading and grinding you in a slow simmer of friction.

"You say that like you've never been desperate enough to beg me to fuck you right here in these hallways before..." The low, sensually-charged growl shivered your bones down to the marrow. Gojo finally pulled back enough to cage your dazed features fully within his piercing stare—lips curved in a lascivious smirk of fond reminiscence. "Multiple times, if I'm recalling correctly."

Heat flared through your cheeks as the graphic imagery took shape against your fraying resistance—lurid memories of breathless encounters where the thrill of potentially being caught by patrolling sentries only fueled the delirious flames higher. You swallowed hard against the thickness now cloying your throat, squirming in feeble denial.

Gojo's smirk deepened into something utterly sinful as he drank in your expression with clear relish. "Do you need me to refresh your memory about the last time you had me backed into a supply closet?" he rasped, leaning in until the blistering brand of his body seared you from chest to hip once more. "How hard you came when I finally pulled those thighs apart and licked straight through your soaked—"

"Enough!" you gasped out before he could fully unleash the damning words. You renewed your efforts at wriggling free in earnest, well aware your weakening restraint wouldn't last against Gojo's relentless carnal onslaught. "I-I...maybe we should actually go somewhere more appropriate first. Dinner, maybe?"

Despite your sudden meek suggestion, you couldn't quite mask the desperation laced through the plaintive request. Gojo's eyes seemed to glitter brighter at the shift in your demeanor, clearly scenting weakness in the offing as he allowed his grip to relax somewhat.

"Dinner first, huh?" He pursed those full lips into an exaggerated pout of contemplation before relenting with a dramatic sigh. "Well, I suppose that's only fair since I'm the one working up an appetite here..."

With one last blistering look that robbed you of breath entirely, Gojo stepped back and pivoted on his heel to swagger away down the narrow thoroughfare like a man supremely assured of victory. You could only sag back against the alcove wall, chest heaving with exertion as the towering remnants of arousal slowly ebbed.

However, there remained little doubt in your overwrought psyche that this temporary reprieve from your joining was little more than the universe's taunting cruelty. You'd awoken Gojo's darkest, most lascivious appetites earlier that morning.

And if the way he slanted one final look over his powerful shoulder—bright irises already blown wide and jaw clenching subtly around what had to be punishing levels of restraint—then the true feasting was only just about to begin in earnest. With your achingly empty body as the main course.

The opulent restaurant oozed sophistication from every polished surface and perfectly-starched linen. The sommelier's formal bow and crisp recitation of the evening's premier wine offerings seemed utterly wasted on the two of you.

You eyed Gojo over the rim of your glass, the dry Cabernet doing little to dull the lingering tension still thrumming between your joined frames. As always, he looked utterly nonplussed about the lavish indulgences surrounding you—crisp white dress shirt straining across his muscular torso and sharp jawline rasped by the beginnings of late evening stubble. Like a predator eternally at ease, regardless of situation.

Gojo's piercing gaze roamed over you with the same slow, assessing intensity one might reserve for an exquisite delicacy awaiting consumption. You tried not to squirm under that molten scrutiny, clearing your throat pointedly.

"I'm assuming there was some purpose behind corralling me into this place," you remarked in your best professional tone. "Beyond getting me liquored up for some inappropriate table exhibition, that is."

Rather than rebuff your dig, Gojo simply angled his head in a catlike tilt—lips curling into a devilish smirk that telegraphed his carnal interest crystal clear. Leaning further back in his chair, he allowed one broad palm to splay suggestively over the crisp linen covering his lap, fingertips drumming out an idle staccato.

"Well now, I certainly wouldn't say no to having those gorgeous lips wrapped around something else for a change." His deep timbre emerged laced with sin and smoky insinuation. "You always did look like an utter vision stuffed under these fancy tabletops sucking me off..."

Heat blossomed across your cheeks despite your best efforts at composure. You knocked back another bracing swallow of wine, struggling not to dwell on the searing flashes his words evoked—memories of delirious encounters where Gojo had hauled you under secluded tables to properly appreciate your skills with relentless, undisguised gratification.

Swallowing thickly, you gripped your fork with slightly more force than necessary."I'd ask if you're always this disgracefully crass and lascivious in public these days...but then I remembered who I'm talking to," you said dryly. "So in the interest of not causing a scene, why don't we get to the point of this little ambush?"

One brow arched infinitesimally as Gojo cocked his head further, clearly drinking in your prim and vaguely irritated state with evident relish. "You seem awfully anxious to rush right to business," he murmured, fingertips continuing their idle rhythm against the tablecloth. "Where's that simmering self-restraint and haughty composure I remember enjoying unraveling piece...by...delicious...piece so thoroughly back in the day?"

You opened your mouth to fire back a scathing retort, only for Gojo to cut you off with a low, lush rumble. "Unless you've simply decided being insatiably thirsty for this cock is more your speed these days..."

With that quiet taunt, his free hand disappeared beneath the pristine linen swathe in a heavy, meaningful descent. You swallowed convulsively as his fingertips slid along the unmistakable ridge of his thick cock straining against the unforgiving fabric of his slacks. Every knuckle undulated in a deliberate, stroking glide that tightened your throat like a vise around trapped breaths and unspoken pleas.

"Can practically already taste how soaked you're getting beneath those prim layers just from the thought alone..." Gojo continued in a molten rasp heavy with undisguised gratification. "Imagining that filthy little mouth stretched wide around my girth again, glazing yourself in my cum right here in front of god and all these polite company..."

A tiny, reedy sound slipped unbidden from your constricted chest despite your best efforts at locking it down. Gojo's lascivious smirk turned rapacious as he correctly scented the spike of liquid want now cloying the humid space between you.

"So what do you say, gorgeous?" He pitched his timbre slightly lower, allowing each gravelled syllable to curl around your senses with lashes of pure elemental sin. "Going to be a good little famished cocksleeve and give me a hand under the table before we get down to—"

You cut across his brazen soliloquy with a forceful rap of your fork against the tabletop. Pulling yourself together, you fixed Gojo with a severe glower that finally seemed to give him pause.

"If you can't conduct yourself with any semblance of decorum befitting your station, then I'm through entertaining these adolescent displays," you bit out in a hushed tone edged with adamant warning. "I'm not some wide-eyed underling fresh off the training fields anymore, Satoru. I have higher standing and responsibility than you seem to grasp."

Silence stretched between you for a weighted beat—Gojo's heated gaze flickering over you with renewed focus you couldn't quite decipher. When he finally spoke again, there was a note of uncharacteristic control underpinning his typically buoyant candor. Clearly, he'd grasped the need to change tactics once more.

"You're absolutely right," he said after a prolonged pause. "Part of me forgets just how much you've grown and ascended the ranks over the years." One side of his mouth curved higher in a lopsided ghost of his usual smirk. "Clearly earned the elders' respect and esteem far beyond that of a simple 'secretary' as I put it earlier."

Before you could retort, Gojo pressed onwards—hand sliding almost absently back into view to wrap around the stem of his wine flute. "Which is exactly why your assistance is pivotal to turning the tide regarding Yuji's current...perilous circumstances."

There was a grim finality in his words that snapped you back to the seriousness of the moment like a sobering slap to the face. You shifted fractionally taller in your seat, expression hardening as Gojo continued in low, adamant tones.

"Whether you're fully aware or care to admit it right now, that kid is destined to be pivotal for the upcoming events on the horizon," he rumbled with quiet conviction. "Leaving him to get executed off the books tomorrow morning would be tantamount to losing our most powerful asset before the real battles even begin."

Swirling his wine idly, Gojo paused to take an unhurried pull directly from the bottle before continuing. "Which is why I'm going to need to call in more than a few favors getting his sentence postponed tonight. Starting with you, of course..."

There was a new current of steely focus glinting in his gaze as it bored into you with ruthless intensity. For several protracted beats, you simply held each other's stares—gauging the lengths and motivations rumbling beneath the surface beyond petty physical exploits.

Finally, you pursed your lips and shook your head in a solemn negation. "I'm sorry, but I can't overstep protocol and abuse my influence with the elders like that," you stated, quietly adamant. "Not even for you, Satoru. The ramifications could unravel everything I've worked decades to attain if word got out I went rogue."

Rather than exploding in his usual flashes of arrogance or wounded pride, Gojo merely raked you with a glower of narrowed, simmering intent. His next words emerged more pointed and resonating than any innuendo or filthy endearment preceding it.

"Are you sure about that stance?" he intoned darkly. "Because if memory serves, there are a few distinct...indiscretions we've engaged in that could certainly be construed as 'unraveling' by the elders' view, wouldn't you agree?"

The waiter's polished footsteps faded as he departed to fetch their entrees, leaving you and Gojo in a weighted silence. You could practically taste the undercurrent of tension simmering in the air between you both.

Sipping his wine slowly, Gojo dragged his incandescent stare over your features with undisguised intensity. "I'm serious about this," he stated in a low, firm rumble that brooked no further evasion. "We're talking everything from inappropriate use of jujutsu techniques to conduct we both know crosses so many lines..."

He trailed off meaningfully, leaving the implications to hang heavy as his tongue slicked over his lower lip. You swallowed hard against the rising heat prickling across your cheeks and neck.

"Like that night in the east gardens behind the training halls," Gojo continued, voice dropping into a deeper, more intimate register that curled straight between your thighs. "Where I pinned you down in the grass and ate you out until you came all over my face. And then I fucked you so hard, you nearly passed out before we got caught."

Despite yourself, a tremulous shiver raked through your nerves as the visceral flashes assaulted your mind's eye—the frantic rasp of his calloused palms roaming and kneading, the slick motions of his tongue probing and savoring parts of you meant for far more intimate settings.

Gojo noticed your reaction with a dark chuckle, clearly satisfied he'd reeled you back in completely. "Or what about the time you wrapped those pretty lips around my cock in the maintenance closet and let me rail your throat until you choked on my load? How many rules was just that one encounter bending, hm?"

The directness of his words scorched through you with dizzying potency, making you flush and squirm. You parted your lips on a shaky exhale, determined to regain some semblance of control.

But Gojo smirked knowingly and pressed his verbal advantage in a low, filthy rumble. "Face it, I've got enough material on you ruining me with that greedy little mouth and pussy all over campus to get you defrocked hard." His hooded azure gaze practically seared into your core. "And yet you really wanna risk me airing all those dirty details to the elders? Leaving Itadori's fate to chance like that?"

Your mouth felt suddenly dry as you wrestled with the undeniable truth behind his taunting words. For several fraught beats, the frustration and righteous indignation warred with your embedded sense of duty to the cause. Finally, you released a shuddery breath and lifted your chin.

"I'll...see what I can do about swaying things in your favor," you muttered in a low, slightly strained tone. "No promises, but I'll try discussing options with the higher-ups."

Rather than seem appeased, Gojo's expression only hardened further—carved features settling into a granite mask of tenacious stubbornness and smoldering impatience. "'Not good enough, kitten," he rumbled, forearms tensing atop the table. "This mission is too fucking important for halfhearted measures. I need you to outright insist on a stay of execution being granted, got it? No more stammering 'I'll try' bullshit that lets them sidestep."

His unyielding stare pinned you with the intensity of a physical force, raising your hackles slightly despite your attempt at diplomacy. Still, looking into those blazing blue embers, you got the distinct impression that you'd sooner achieve moving a mountain with vocal commands than sway Gojo on this matter. That steely resolve would accept nothing less than complete victory in postponing Itadori's fate.

Just as you began resigning yourself to digging in for another round of heated back-and-forth across the fancy tablecloth, the arrival of the main courses mercifully broke the combative spell between you. Gojo seemed to settle back imperceptibly as the waiter swept in—that scorching intensity banking down to a more companionable smolder for the time being.

Still, you recognized the temporary reprieve for what it was as you tucked into your meal with far less gusto than anticipated. Despite his best efforts to gloss over the previous tension with idle banter and lighter conversational tones, it remained silently understood that the evening's main purpose still hung unresolved and delicate between you until matters were final.

So it was with an undercurrent of somber expectation that you finally settled the check and rose to follow Gojo from the opulent dining hall at evening's end. A subtle snap of his fingers triggered a curiously disorienting sensation of compression and vertigo—only to release you blinking in surprise mere heartbeats later, finding yourself suddenly standing in the familiar living quarters you called home.

"I'd say you're handling that little trick with far more aplomb these days," Gojo remarked with a lopsided grin, clearly drinking in your adjustment to his impromptu teleportation with amusement. "Remember when I first started zipping you around like that? Pretty sure you heaved your guts all over those ugly penny loafers you used to wear back in the day."

Huffing out a noise of semi-fond exasperation, you aimed a swat at his sculpted arm without malice. "Yes, well I suppose youth and naivety breed certain...overzealous behaviors, don't they?" you retorted before immediately sobering once more. "Like making reckless judgment calls that imperil an entire system..."

Gojo's expression remained impassive, giving no outward indication whether your choice of words struck any particular chord with him. However, you caught the faintest glimmer flickering behind those incandescent blue irises - the barest hint that perhaps you'd underestimated just how much gravitas your dissenting opinion potentially held with the higher-ups.

After all, you were Gojo Satoru's first and most distinguished pupil back when he initially ascended to teaching status, weren't you? Not only that, but your judicious control and prime mastery of your innate techniques embodied many of the fundamental philosophies and fighting styles the old guard so staunchly valued. On numerous occasions, your skills had been cited as quintessential examples to uphold for future generations...

You blinked, momentarily caught off guard as the weighty truth of your potential sway with leadership gradually bobbed to the surface of your consciousness like drift debris after a storm. This entire evening, Gojo might have simply been maneuvering to forcibly realign your perspective on leveraging the hidden influence you apparently wielded without ever fully grasping it.

To truly comprehend the magnitude of the gambit he intended to play using your standing as the key gambit.

Before you could properly parse that sobering epiphany, however, Gojo had already closed what little distance remained between your frames with purposeful strides. The blistering heat of his body all but blanketed yours as he leaned in with that familiar aura of prowling, casual intensity that always made your breath stall.

"So..." he murmured, voice pitching into a lower register that seemed to slither straight down your spine. "Does that mean you're gonna be a good girl and invite me inside so we can continue this intriguing conversation in more...comfortable accommodations?"

Gojo punctuated the brazen implication by cocking one arm against the doorframe, effectively caging you between the cool wood and the searing, masculine planes of his torso and hips. You were abruptly overwhelmed by the reality of his proximity - each subtly shifting ripple of sinew and musculature utterly inescapable from this range.

That distinctly virile, elemental musk that always set your senses clamoring was back in full force as well. You swallowed hard, nostrils flaring fractionally as the delirious essence of Gojo's body heat and clean, faintly spiced perspiration flooded your olfactory receptors. Despite your most ardent efforts, you felt your lids grow heavy and mouth part unconsciously as liquid frissons of pure, burgeoning temptation licked through your veins.

Just like that, with a few deftly aimed strokes, Gojo had reeled you back to the precipice of helpless surrender once more. Still, you summoned the dregs of your stern resolve and planted your palms squarely against his chest, levering back an inch to preserve some semblance of boundaries.

"Subtle as ever, I see," you managed in a tone you hoped came across more dryly exasperated than outright breathless. "I should've guessed the moment we arrived you'd be angling to make yourself at home uninvited."

One brow arched higher, though you didn't miss the slight crinkling at the corners of Gojo's stupidly pretty eyes betraying his hushed amusement. "Oof, someone has their defenses wound just a tad tightly if they think I require permission these days," he shot back with a wry rumble.

Before you could summon a retort, that leonine physique surged forward in a slow, sensual undulation—once again pinning you fully against the unyielding wooden slab with the scorching brand of his larger frame. Gojo's free hand drifted down to palm the generous curve of your hip with sinful insistence, hips canting forward until there could be no mistaking the ridge of his erection notching against your lower belly.

"Better question might be..." His voice dropped several delirious octaves into those sandpaper-rough timbres that seemed to sizzle straight through your nerve endings. "Why even bother pretending at token protests when we both know how this little dance is gonna end...?"

Those incandescent azure irises flickered down to where his fingertips were already stroking teasing swirls against the exposed strip of skin between your top and waistband, silently daring you to rebuff such an implicit capitulation.

"So why delay the inevitable any longer, gorgeous?" Gojo rumbled against your lips, voice dropping into that gravelly timbre designed to liquefy your restraint. "Let's get down to stripping off all these formalities once and for—"

"You haven't even kissed me yet today," you blurted out, cutting across his heated soliloquy.

Gojo's pale brows pinched infinitesimally as the words seemed to momentarily stall his single-minded determination. You could practically see the gears turning behind those hooded azure irises as he processed your statement—likely running back through every provocative encounter and instance of attempted seduction throughout the evening.

When his piercing stare finally snapped back to yours, there was the faintest glimmer of sheepish realization burning there. "...Huh. You're right," he remarked in a slightly lower, more subdued tone. "Here I've been working overtime to rile you up, and I haven't even had the balls to properly lay one on you yet."

You tried not to visibly preen under the gratifying acknowledgment, but couldn't quite suppress the tiny quirk tugging at the corners of your mouth. Sensing a rare window of opportunity, you shifted your weight more fully against the solid contours of Gojo's frame, allowing your fingers to trail upwards in delicate spirals.

"Well?" You arched one brow in playful challenge, throat bobbing on a swallow as your digits mapped higher along the tendons of his powerful neck. "Are you going to actually follow through, or am I going to have to take the initiative here?"

For one heated beat, Gojo simply held your pointed stare in taut suspension—the atmosphere between you both seeming to atomize down into charged ionization particles awaiting the slightest catalyst to detonate. Then, his lips curved higher in a lopsided smirk you'd come to recognize as pure, unrepentant recklessness sublimating into physical form.

"You're going to have to come and get it, gorgeous," he rumbled, the raspy undercurrents sending delicious frissons shivering along your nerves. "Show me just how badly you've been starving for a real taste all evening."

His dexterous fingers slid up to cup the line of your jaw, thumb sweeping suggestively across your lower lip in a searing caress. You struggled not to whimper at the electrifying friction as Gojo leaned further into your personal space.

However, rather than ducking his head the final few scant inches to seal his mouth hungrily over yours, the insufferable tease merely arched backward—body undulating in a slow, sinuous retreat until he towered over you at his full impressive stature. The tip of his tongue darted out to lave his lower lip in clear relish, eyes glinting with wicked invitation as he silently dared you to make good on rising to his heated gauntlet.

A thrill of excitement and determination lanced through your chest as you instantly grasped the game afoot. With purposeful, unhurried movements, you allowed your palms to splay across the granite warmth of his abdomen before slowly, teasingly tracking higher in a worshiping glide. Every rippling corde and sinewy groove of his musculature became briefly profiled as you glided your touch upwards - mapping the scorching acreage in ardent appreciation.

Gojo watched your journey with blown pupils and ragged breaths, torso visibly expanding with each shuddering inhalation he dragged against his impressive restraint. You didn't miss the flex and bunching of his arms and shoulders as you passed over his pectorals, clearly fighting not to haul you bodily against him right then and simply crush your pliant frames back into mutual rapture.

But still, he remained steadfast and motionless—a living marble statue gloriously chiseled from pure virile perfection, awaiting your reverent indulgences with a banked smolder burning behind his hooded stare.

Finally, your fingertips dusted across the sharp angles of his jaw and cheekbones, body arching and straining upwards in your single-minded pursuit of that elusive, smug mouth you craved with mounting desperation. Try as you might to extend yourself onto the balls of your feet and go fully up on tiptoes, Gojo maintained a scant whisper of distance—always hovering just out of your reach with an expression of blatant masculine gratification at your squirming efforts.

A huff of breathy frustration nearly slipped free at the persistent denial, only to be silenced by the way Gojo instinctively dipped lower as if to grant your wish...only to arc back with a low, filthy chuckle that reverberated against your now-thundering pulse. It was as much a sensual dance of control and restraint as a taunt or test of wills at this juncture—simply savoring the delirious friction generated as your pliant, questing form sought to twine and pull him down into decadent oblivion, inch by maddening inch.

"Easy there, kitten..." he rasped in a low, smoky cadence designed to further short-circuit your resolve. "Why don't you try dropping to those pretty knees for me? Might give you better leverage and angles to play with in reaching those tempting lips that have been tormenting that insatiable appetite of yours..."

You answered with a full-body shudder and a needy keen spilling free from your very marrow—all thoughts of recalcitrance and willpower now thoroughly banished beneath the inescapable gravity well of Gojo's hypnotic presence and unholy temptations.

You whined out loud, an unguarded noise of pure pleading desire that seemed to momentarily crack through your usually reserved demeanor. "Satoru...please, wanna kiss you so badly."

The raw, plaintive tone of your entreaty hung in the air between you, heavy with naked yearning in a way that gave even Gojo pause. His brilliant eyes seemed to smolder brighter for an instant, no doubt dredging up fond recollections of past occasions where he'd so thoroughly unraveled your ironclad poise and reduced you to this state.

Rather than pounce on your vulnerability or tease further, however, Gojo's expression softened ever so slightly. One broad palm cradled the back of your skull as he ducked in closer, guiding your trembling frame until your brows nearly brushed.

"Since you asked so nicely..." he murmured, deep timbre emerging somewhere between a graveled purr and heated rumble.

You barely managed a shuddering inhalation before Gojo sealed his mouth over yours in a searing brand of possession. The initial clash of lips and tongue was something closer to an elemental force than a mere intimate exchange—not at all gentle, but rife with pent-up longing and ravenous need finally given free rein.

Your fingers instinctively knotted in the soft fabric of his shirt as Gojo laid an utterly thorough claim upon your senses. He swallowed each desperate little noise and whimper that punched free as if savoring the most delectable of delicacies. One thick forearm banded around your lower back to anchor you fully against his solid frame as he deepened the devouring cadence with relentless intensity.

A husky growl of clear approval and gratification rumbled against your slick, swollen mouth as Gojo momentarily allowed a scant parting for air. "Fuck...I'd almost forgotten how greedy and eager this talented little tongue can get," he grated with clear relish.

You could only pant and squirm fitfully in answer, thoughts scattered like dandelion seeds on a breeze. Gojo simply chuckled richly—the timbre vibrating straight through your very cells in a way that somehow untethered your feet from the ground entirely.

The next thing you clearly registered were his powerful arms banding beneath the backs of your thighs to haul you securely against his body in one smooth, easy motion. Your startled yelp melted into a tremulous sigh as the bunching plains of his torso and abdomen braced your arched spine in a sublime full-body embrace.

"Don't go passing out on me before the real fun starts," Gojo husked against the thundering pulse at your nape, even as his long strides carried you across the threshold of your apartment. "I've got plans for putting that gifted mouth to far better uses than just kissing..."

With your legs now locked around his narrow hips, you could feel every delicious ridge and twitch of his growing erection grinding against your dampening heat through the flimsy barriers separating you. A piteous whine slipped free as the swaying rhythm of his determined gait threatened to unravel you down to your very foundation.

"That's it, let me hear just how desperate I've got you aching to taste me properly again," Gojo growled against the whorl of your ear, each guttural rasp sparking fresh convulsions of need between your thighs. "Been waiting all fucking day to unwrap this gorgeous little prize and savor you inch...by...inch."

Gojo punctuated the lascivious promise by swiveling to carefully lay you out amidst the rumpled linens and cushions—each flickering shadow casting his chiseled features into harsh relief. No more levity or evasion glossed his expression, only the stark severity and zero-compromises focus of a predator fully engaged.

Rather than pounce on you immediately, however, Gojo seemed to pause and simply drink in the sight of your breathless, disheveled state with smoldering intent. His bright eyes roamed over every inch of your upturned features and the generous curves left tantalizingly displayed by your askew clothing.

"Goddamn..." he rumbled in a deep timbre thick with undisguised yearning. "Look at you splayed out for me, practically begging to get worked over already."

You swallowed hard, unable to tear your gaze away from the pure masculine intensity blazing in his stare. There was an undercurrent of restrained hunger there that made your pulse thunder—heady and distinctly feral even as Gojo slowly prowled over your prone body.

Rather than immediately claim you in a reckless flurry of lust, his calloused palms mapped your sides in a languid, purposeful glide all the way up to your rib cage. You arched instinctively into his maddening caresses, whimpering softly in anticipation.

"Easy there, baby..." Gojo murmured in a low rasp against the whorl of your ear. His nose trailed along the thrumming tendons of your neck, clearly savoring the scent of your desire. "You act like it's been months since this pretty pussy has been spread out and stuffed full. And after all the time I spent working you into this gorgeous, wrecked state..."

You squirmed fitfully beneath his unyielding weight, needy whines spilling past your parted lips as Gojo continued leisurely nuzzling and nipping along your jawline and throat. Despite the unhurried leisure of his attentions, you were rapidly spiraling into molten delirium between his hoarse endearments and the tantalizing friction where your bodies met.

"What, so impatient you can't even let me take a second to savor this?" Gojo husked out in a gravel-rough rasp that made you shiver. "I had to spend all damn day thinking about bending you over the second we were alone...so you'll excuse me if I take things slow now that I've got you all wound up and drenched for it."

Emphasizing his point, Gojo slotted one thick, muscular thigh between your parted legs, rocking forward in a slow grind that dragged the solid length of his cock against your molten entrance through the thin barrier separating you. You cried out sharply at the delicious friction, back bowing as frantic nails scoured tracks down his flexing shoulder blades in desperation.

"Yeah...that's it, squirm and moan for me like a good girl," Gojo growled in clear approval, tongue laving a wet path along the fragrant hollow of your throat. "Keep making those filthy sounds and just MAYBE I'll finally give you what you've been gagging for all night."

You could only whimper raggedly in compliance as his mouth moved lower, searing a path from collarbone to the generous swell of your breasts. His large hands cradled and kneaded the soft flesh with relish before tugging the stretchy fabric aside to bare one nipple to the calloused heat of his lips and tongue.

"That's right...let Daddy get his fill and reacquaint himself with every lush goddamn inch," Gojo growled around the rosy peak, sending lightning bolts of sensation zinging straight to your molten core. "Been thinking about sucking and biting these perfect tits all over again ever since you walked into that restaurant looking like a goddamn meal..."

Despite his crude admission, there was an undercurrent of clear reverence and tender devotion laced through his ragged cadences now. Gojo laved and nuzzled at your breasts with all the ardent indulgence of a penitent savoring their last meal before execution. His hooded azure gaze seemed to blaze brighter with each piteous keen and arch you offered up in answer to his lavishing.

Just as you felt yourself ascending the spiraling crescendo toward mindless bliss under his skilled attentions, Gojo abruptly detached from your saturated nipple with a low noise of harsh restraint. You whined plaintively, eyes glassy as your hands reflexively fisted in the front of his shirt—silently pleading for him to resume lapping away at the fiery deprivation swiftly devouring you inside out.

"Easy, baby..." he rasped through gritted teeth, clearly suppressing his own spiraling ardor through sheer force of iron will. "I didn't wait this long to absolutely wreck you just to blow it all on some half-assed foreplay."

Slanting his mouth over yours in another scorching, possessive claim, Gojo cradled your overwrought features between those rough, calloused palms with surprising tenderness.

His thumb smoothed along your cheekbone as the kiss gradually shifted into a slow, sensual undulation.

"Tell me what you want," he murmured against the seam of your lips. "Let Daddy hear you ask for it nice and loud."

The command emerged as a gravelly whisper, though his blazing stare held an unmistakable glint of command. Still, the blatant carnal hunger etched into his expression made you feel positively giddy and invincible as your fingertips trailed along the corded lines of his powerful throat.

"I want you inside me, Sensei," you pleaded, voice pitching into a breathy whine. "Please, I need to feel you filling me up again."

Gojo groaned, clearly relishing the shameless admission and the way your thighs clenched reflexively around his hips. You could feel the rigid contours of his cock twitching eagerly against your slickened folds through the layers separating you.

"Fuck, the mouth on you," he rasped, nipping lightly at the underside of your jaw. "You know what it does to me when you call me that."

"Good," you purred, allowing your fingers to trail higher until they carded through the silky soft strands of his hair. "Now, are you going to stop stalling and show me how much better you are at playing teacher in bed?"

Your bold retort earned a snarl of pure male approval, though the sound quickly tapered into a groan as you deliberately canted your hips to drag the seeping damp of your panties against his throbbing erection. Gojo's fingers instinctively curled tighter around your neck, pinning you into place as he bucked and rolled his pelvis forward to reciprocate the delicious friction.

"Alright then, smartass..." he rasped, pupils blown nearly black with ravenous need as he stared down at your upturned, flushed face. "If that's how you wanna play it, I'm gonna make damn sure you're thoroughly re-educated on who exactly holds the reins here."

Without further ado, his hands drifted down to tug insistently at your waistband, practically shredding the flimsy fabric in his haste to free you from the rest of your clothing. You shivered at the way the cool evening air instantly pebbled across your newly exposed skin, though any instinctive modesty was quickly chased away by the hungry stare drinking in your naked form.

Gojo's expression shifted into a predatory leer, the sight sending another jolt of electric anticipation shooting through your already-jangling nerve endings. "That's better," he rumbled, broad palm skating a path up your inner thigh with unhurried reverence. "Nothing should be allowed to hide such a perfect view of my favorite fucking dessert."

You bit back a whimper at the possessive timbres lacing his gravel-rough voice, thighs twitching restlessly as Gojo's touch continued mapping higher. Finally, his questing fingertips slid into the sticky slick coating your swollen folds, dragging the copious evidence of your desire back to where your clit throbbed with need.

"Oh, look at that..." Gojo practically cooed, the filthy delight and awe laced through his voice sending a fresh rush of warmth spilling out against his dexterous ministrations. "Daddy's been neglecting his baby girl, and she's absolutely soaking wet already. How long has my gorgeous kitten been aching like this, hmm?"

The words emerged somewhere between a teasing croon and a gravelly growl, and you could only shudder and keen as Gojo continued rubbing maddening circles over your hypersensitive bud. The friction was already pushing you rapidly to the edge, and judging by the way Gojo's hooded gaze flickered up to watch your rapture, he could tell as much.

"Ah-ah...no cumming until you beg Daddy to fuck you properly," he rasped, even as his index and ring fingers dipped shallowly into your fluttering channel—teasing and stretching the seeping velvet heat in a way that made you sob out loud. "Don't make me have to punish you for being so naughty, kitten. You know I can keep you on the edge all night if I need to."

Your spine bowed and back arched as you writhed and thrashed beneath his touch, a litany of breathy whimpers and pleas falling from your kiss-swollen lips. "Please, please, Daddy, don't tease me," you begged shamelessly, the words nearly slurring together with raw need. "I'll be a good girl, I swear. Please, please just fuck me..."

Gojo's gaze sharpened with clear gratification as you entreated his mercy, and he finally eased off on the merciless friction between your thighs. Your lungs burned with the force of gulping down ragged lungfuls of air, but you were given scant reprieve before his hands gripped and lifted your thighs, effortlessly hauling you closer and spreading them wide.

"There's my good girl," he murmured, the raw timbre of his voice sending delicious frissons shivering across your fever-warm skin. "Such a sweet little angel when you finally submit."

With one more brief nip at the delicate flesh of your inner thigh, Gojo began working the fly of his trousers open, finally freeing his massive erection. He stroked and pumped his straining shaft a few times for good measure, eyes raking across your splayed, naked form with clear relish.

"Look at how pretty this tight little pussy is, dripping all over my fingers and cock just begging to get filled," he grunted, lining the bulbous crown against your quivering entrance and rubbing it back and forth through the sticky arousal saturating your folds.

A pitiful keen slipped past your parted lips at the taunting pressure, and you could feel a fresh gush of slickness welling up in response to his crass praise. Gojo smirked at the telltale reaction, one calloused palm sliding down to part the plush folds of your pussy even further.

"Goddamn, look how wet and greedy this is for me," he rumbled in a low tone thick with pure male satisfaction. "Bet you were fantasizing about having Daddy's cock stuffing this pretty cunt the whole time we were sitting there in that restaurant. Isn't that right, kitten?"

Your brain was barely capable of stringing together a coherent thought, much less a snarky comeback, but somehow the words slipped free despite the mindless delirium clouding your head. "Y-you were the one who wouldn't stop teasing," you moaned, squirming fitfully against the delicious pressure poised at your molten core. "Can't say I wasn't tempted to drag you into the bathroom and suck you off..."

The words dissolved into a keening cry as Gojo abruptly slammed into the hilt, filling you to the brim and beyond in one brutal, unyielding stroke. Your legs reflexively locked around his hips and lower back as he immediately began pounding into your clenching walls, each powerful thrust punching the breath from your lungs.

"Is that so, sweetheart?" Gojo gritted out, hissing through clenched teeth as the clutching vice of your inner walls seemed to squeeze the very life from his engorged shaft. "You were just planning on being a dirty little tease the whole time we were at dinner? What a fucking minx..."

Gojo punctuated the statement by angling your hips upward to drill even deeper, each merciless thrust nudging the sensitive spot at the very end of your channel until the pressure sent stars exploding behind your eyelids. The only sounds that could emerge were a series of broken mewls and wordless whines, utterly incapable of doing anything but lay there and take the exquisite torment of his unrelenting, devastating pace.

"Yeah, that's it, let me feel just how desperately you've been needing this," he snarled, large hands gripping your waist as his pelvis hammered a merciless rhythm against your overstimulated sex. "Soak this fucking cock like a good little kitten. Don't hold back on me, baby. Show me how much you missed Daddy's cock and I might let you cum."

You could barely process the filth spilling free from his mouth at this point, each syllable dissolving into an electric buzz as his ruthless assault stoked the pressure mounting inside you. It was a familiar, heady rush of sensation—a coiling tension that seemed to grow tighter and more unbearable with every punishing roll of Gojo's hips against yours.

He was driving you toward a cliff's edge without pause or quarter, and the sheer force of his intensity was dizzying. Yet, despite the frantic, almost savage cadence, you could feel the subtle shift in his grip and angle as Gojo's gaze bored into your face. Even in the midst of his own delirium, the sheer focus and attentiveness in his stare was intoxicating.

"F-fuck, I'm so close," you gasped out, feeling your core spasming and clutching against the rigid pistoning length impaling you. You feebly reached out, desperate for any kind of anchor amidst the relentless tidal wave of sensation threatening to pull you under. "Satoru...please, want you to kiss me again."

Without missing a beat, Gojo's hands shifted, scooping you up until you were practically cradled in his lap. Your legs reflexively locked around his hips and midsection, ankles hooking together as his thrusts never paused. The new position left your torso arching up toward his chest, and Gojo quickly took advantage, slanting his mouth over yours with renewed hunger.

Each slide and curl of his tongue seemed perfectly in time with the driving roll of his hips, and the added closeness was swiftly becoming too much. You were hurtling toward the edge of the abyss, and this time, Gojo seemed intent on taking you down with him.

"My perfect girl, taking my cock like such a good little slut," he gritted out, one hand tangling in your hair while the other braced your back, keeping your bodies fused together. "Been dreaming about this tight cunt for fucking days, and it's even better than I remember. Now be a good kitten and soak Daddy's cock for me."

You could feel yourself tumbling over the precipice even before Gojo's hand snaked down to thumb your clit, and the dual assault was all it took to send you reeling into blinding euphoria. Your climax hit like a freight train, ripping through you with an almost painful intensity that left your toes curling and vision blurring.

Gojo continued thrusting his full length in a rapid-fire tempo, hissing out a strangled groan as the spasms of your inner walls finally dragged him into the depths of oblivion alongside you. Your limbs felt like jelly, and you were grateful for his grip holding you steady as the waves of rapture subsided.

He didn't release you, though, not right away. Rather, Gojo simply held you in his arms, his cheek pressed to the side of your head and the slow rise and fall of his chest syncing with yours. The two of you remained silent for a long moment, simply breathing together as the room gradually stopped spinning around you.

Eventually, Gojo pulled back enough to cup your jaw and slant his mouth over yours in another gentle, exploratory kiss. It was nothing like the devouring claims and searing conquests that had preceded it, and the tenderness in the simple press of lips left you feeling utterly weightless.

When Gojo finally withdrew, the smirk curling his lips was positively self-satisfied. "I'd say that’s enough foreplay, wouldn't you, baby?"

You could only huff a soft laugh in response, shaking your head as the residual tremors of bliss faded. "You consider thatforeplay?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, was I too gentle?" he retorted, feigning a look of innocent confusion. "Maybe we should try round two, then. I'll give you a chance to demonstrate what you meant about sucking me off."

The words emerged in a low, silky murmur as his large hands gripped and squeezed the supple curves of your ass, eliciting a soft squeal from you. You smacked at his broad chest ineffectually, unable to fight the grin tugging at your own mouth.

"You're incorrigible."

"That's not a no," Gojo pointed out, his smug expression practically radiating his unrepentant satisfaction. "And if you keep acting all cute and sassy, I can't promise I'll be able to resist the urge to bend you over and remind you exactly who's in charge."

Your stomach fluttered at the casual, nonchalant admission. It was an undeniable thrill knowing just how badly Gojo craved this—craved you. The thought alone was enough to send a fresh wave of warmth flooding through your veins.

"Maybe I'm not opposed to the idea," you murmured, biting down on your lower lip as you glanced up through your lashes.

The look was clearly too much for Gojo's self-control. His eyes darkened with fresh desire, and his grip shifted to lift and turn you so that you were sprawled facedown across the rumpled cushions.

"Well, in that case," he growled, the heat and weight of his body blanketing yours as his hips pressed flush to the swell of your backside. "Let's see just how filthy this mouth is, shall we?"

The room seemed to exist in its own hushed, velvety cocoon of tranquility - a stark contrast to the ferocious passion that had consumed every inch mere moments ago. You lay draped languidly across Gojo's powerful frame with your cheek pillowed on the rises and valleys of his chest. The steady thrum of his heartbeat reverberated through your lashes in a soothing cadence.

One of your hands traced idle, featherlight patterns over the expanse of his toned abdomen - mapping the ridges and grooves so recently sheened and flexing under your ardent worshiping. Gojo remained equally at peace beneath your sprawled embrace, those brilliant azure irises at half-mast while he reclined with one arm crooked behind his head.

Despite the palpable aura of repletion surrounding you both, a new undercurrent began to gradually assert itself in the weighted stillness. You felt compelled to disturb the quietude to address what this entire evening had truly culminated towards - the deal quietly brokered between heated sheets and joined bodies.

"I'll contact the elders first thing," you murmured, the words seeming to slip free before your mind fully grasped their implication. "About postponing Itadori Yuji's case, like you wanted."

Gojo's chest expanded minutely on a slow inhale, but otherwise his statuesque form remained comfortably inert as your words hung in the air between you. After several beats, you felt the subtle weight of his stare alighting on your upturned features.

"Yeah?" His resonant timbre emerged in a low, stripped rasp - sounding as thoroughly unraveled as the rest of his carefully compartmentalized composure. "They'll actually listen to your stance on something so high-stakes?"

You allowed your own eyes to slip shut in a protracted blink, thoughts rapidly trying to align and process how to even begin verbalizing the sheer revelations that had bloomed open tonight about your place within the jujutsu hierarchy.

"I didn't fully grasp it at first," you admitted, voice coming out slightly roughened from earlier exertions. "But now I'm starting to understand the actual leverage my positioning and reputation has afforded without me even noticing."

Rather than respond directly, the only sound came from a protracted exhalation through Gojo's nose - seeming to signal his grasp of the situation finally mapping out as well. You hoped he also understood just how monumental a gambit he'd set into motion by hammering the truth home in his uniquely heated approach tonight. Not to induce guilt, per se...but perhaps a smidgeon more humility about the harrowing stakes being juggled.

As if sensing the direction of your thoughts, Gojo abruptly shifted his weight until you were rolled over onto your back - his solid bulk carefully blanketing yours without pressure. When your gazes met and locked, you felt that simmering connection arc back into incandescence once more between your joined frames.

"You continue underestimating yourself," he murmured in a timbre now rendered warm gravel thanks to its gravelly softness. He cupped the side of your jaw, thumb tracing the bow of your lips in a barely-there caress that spoke to so much more than surface motions. "Which is exactly why I'm never going to stop knocking some sense into that stubborn head of yours..."

With that throaty declaration, Gojo dipped his chiseled features lower until your foreheads brushed - noses scanting along one another in an electrifying gossamer graze. The intimacy of the motion seemed to steal your very breath straight from your lungs as he carried on in a husked rasp.

"So thank you. For listening to reason and actually wielding your power for once when it really mattered..."

Unable to resist the unspoken pull between your joined gravities any longer, you surged up to seal Gojo's mouth in a slow, simmering clash of satin flesh and indulgent possession. All the unvoiced sentiments and roiling tides of turbulence hovered for a suspended eternity within that singular nexus point before gradually dispersing into peaceful becalm once more.

Eventually Gojo broke away with the barest hint of a crooked smile tugging at those stupidly perfect lips, clearly satisfied with your acquiescence for the time being. The two of you simply basked in silence for a while longer, relishing in this well-earned moment of bonded lassitude.

That is, until the first stirrings of Gojo's impish irreverence inevitably bubbled back up in the form of his rich baritone laced with none-too-subtle swagger:

"So...I take it this means I get to thoroughly ruin you again before breakfast? No more insufferable teasing about you not putting out until your higher-up buddies get their precious signatures?"

You scoffed out a long-suffering sound of semi-amused exasperation, already anticipating the thick cloud of smug virility about to descend. Sure enough, Gojo's chest puffed with unrepentant satisfaction as he slung one heavy arm around your waist and lightly squeezed.

"That's what I thought. Face it kitten, that pretty pussy has officially been drafted into service under my uncompromising authority until further notice..."

He punctuated the lewd declaration by slanting his mouth over yours in a deliriously thorough deluge of hunger and virility, effectively stealing your very breath for a second rapturous cycle before exhaustion could dare creep back in.

And as your joined frames spiraled back into the delirious vortex of blissful dissipation once more, you couldn't help hazarding one last, bemused thought: somehow, you got the distinct impression Gojo would be exercising his latest "authority" over you with particularly unrestrained enthusiasm this time around.

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that-student-that-has-homework · 1 year ago

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Portgas D. Ace Headcanons 01

Excuse me Oda-sensei, but that 40 year old Ace is simply criminal. Thank you so much for blessing us with him

Anyway! Have some Husband!Ace headcanons For more Ace content please head to my Tumblr MasterList

Ace is, respectfully, a huge simp for his wife

To the extent that the Whitebeard crew straight up jokingly awarded him with a “Biggest Wife Simp” Award

They made it look official and had Whitebeard sign it and everything. There's even a stamp.

Ace has it framed and hung proudly on the wall next to your bachelor’s degree / college diploma / degree in general.

I feel like despite his own personal insecurities, Ace still manages to be an amazing father

I imagine Ace originally setting out for like one or two kiddos at most (because y'know...what if he's not good enough) and ending up with 3 or 4 kids

Thing is, that’s both your faults.

Ace is tender and goofy with his kids, and he’s so friggin caring: to the extent that…well wouldn’t it be neat to see him with maybe another 2 or 3 kiddos of his own?

(Your husband is hot okay?)

In his case, he swears you have a unique glow about you when you’re pregnant. But more than that when he sees you with your first born, he suddenly wants a big family with you.

I imagine his kids are an eldest son, then his princess, then the youngest boy who takes after his uncle Luffy.

His kids aren’t parentified. He keeps his issues far, far, away from them. Besides, he’s got you by his side.

He was dedicated to making sure they got as much playtime as possible.

He heard about learning through play, and he is DEDICATED to doing that as much as possible

Ace’s kids are spoiled with affection, but not spoiled brats.

While it’s true he’d give them the world, he’d rather let them go get it themselves.

For example: when they asked for a tree house, he gave them the greenlight immediately.

But they had to build it themselves.

It was a super fun project lasting a little over two months with the whole family involved.

Oh and the Whitebeard crew helped too.

It took a while to get the design down initially, then the shopping logistics and whatnot (they used a lot of math here - see education via play)

Building the thing took maybe a weekend or two because the Whitebeard Crew and even the Strawhats came over to help

(It was mostly Franky and Usopp doing work, Sanji was cooking with Thatch)

Uncle Luffy was not allowed near the construction zone after an accident.

They almost destroyed the tree house with their partying once

Ace’s kids were not happy and no one was allowed in the backyard for the rest of the night

He makes sure they have proper manners and self-defense skills

You had to help out here, no lie.

He admitted he needed your help, especially after a dinner with Garp where Makino tagged along to see Ace again

He puts all of his kids into martial arts classes

especially his princess - he’s so proud of her when she beats up bullies

He’s not great at discipline though to be honest. He probably goes about it similarly to Garp.

Ace will not tolerate any of his kids being nasty to their mother. No matter the phase.

You will have to hold him back if you want to let them get their frustration off their chest.

He’ll let them talk, but you’ll have to keep a hand on him somewhere, his arm, his hand, his knee, his shoulder, his back and rub soothing circles

Let’s just say, “talk shit, get hit,” is Ace’s attitude towards anyone being demeaning towards you (more so with adults, not his kids, but that's why they get a scolding)

"Ace my love" (he melts every time you call him that) "the kids’ll start thinking you love me more than them if you do that"

"My kids won’t disrespect their mother though!"

"They’re just venting darling, and when they say or do something that violates my boundaries, I'll be sure to reinforce it. Lead by example right?"

If they ever feel like pissing Ace off for fun they can just say something kinda not nice about you and he'll get mad and they'll flee from him giggling like the little gremlins they are

Ace is veeeeeeeeerry physically affectionate and he isn’t shy about it at all.

At gatherings with the Whitebeard family, he will gladly seat you in his lap, he will happily hug you as you are seated.

His arm is on your waist most of the time.

They tease him to make him tone it down, he does not.

He, in fact, dials it up. Turns up the heat lol.

You have kids? Not in front of them? What do you mean, not in front of the kids? It’s important they know just how much he loves their mama!

So he will continue to be playful with his hugs and kisses and other displays of affection.

It’s nothing too over the top. Just hugs and quick pecks wherever.

Your entire head is fair game for his smooches, your arms (he loves kissing your pulse and then making eye contact, sneaky guy that he is), your shoulders.

Maybe lifting you and spinning you around. Cuddles. Little bites.

He will play-wrestle his kids to “fight” them over getting to cuddle you, and then he’ll just put all his weight on all of you in a group cuddle

Just to let you know, your kids also receive all the warmth and love of his affections.

When his sons are still tiny and adorable, he smooches them all over. The kisses grow less frequent as they grow older, but the hugs do not stop.

Oh no, hugs galore.

Ace still pecks his little princess on her forehead though

When they’re all under ten he’ll wrap them in a hug (after he chased them down and caught them so they’re laughing and screaming) and start smooching their cheeks while they laugh and try to get out of his grasp

Also yes she’s his princess, but that girl has no problem throwing a fully grown man twice her size around, he made sure of it.

I reiterate: Ace is not remotely shy about displays of affection

Like his eldest could have a friend over, and Ace would still launch a full scale hug attack using the rest of his troops (daughter/youngest)

It's complete with screeching, screaming, and a lot of laughter

His kids used to get teased for it, but it didn’t take more than a few conversations for them to instead jeer at the kids that teased them.

"You’re all jealous your parents don’t love you like ours do"

"How sad, your parents don't hug and kiss you"

Their dad, grandpa, uncle - uncles really, are all gremlins - it's in their DNA

The kids are really physically affectionate with each other as a result

Deadass they’ll be kicking the shit out of each other one second and the next they’ll be all cuddled and huddled up playing Mario Kart or something

Ace is his kids’ hero.

His sons aspire to have his level of fitness.

His daughter, when she’s older, uses him as a standard for dating

You're relieved

Ace is touched and a touch nervous, because he is aware of his shortcomings, though he works hard to keep improving

Of course when you look at him, a twinkle in your eyes, and tell him, “I’m so proud of her, I’m so proud of you!” He feels better

When you continue: “if she can find a guy like you, who cherishes her as much as you cherish me, I’d be so happy.”

Ace loves you so much he swears

#portgas d ace x reader #portgas ace x reader #portgas ace x you #one piece x reader #one piece x you #portgas d ace x you #portgas d ace fluff #portgas d ace #portgas d ace fanfic #one piece fanfiction #one piece #ace one piece

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vmlnrzmp4 · 21 days ago

Text

𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘭𝘶𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘬 𝘥𝘢𝘥𝘴 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘥𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘳.

cw: hurt/comfort

itoshi sae

after a long day of father-daughter date at the mall full of "papa, i wan' this!" "papa, i wan' that!"—little natsuki got every toy she pointed at. and who was sae to deny his little princess?

you showered your daughter with your kissys as they got back home, her chuckling at the ticklish impact on her chubby face, "ma, look! papa got me all this!"

your eyes widen in horror as you see sae carrying two large bag in his hands that hardly held the tea party kit, barbie dress up kit, pretty pink princess dresses and what not.

"itoshi sae," you said sternly, "what did we talk about spoiling her too much?"

sae simply shrugged, placing the bags down as natsuki takes out the toys, "she asked nicely."

"sae. we agreed on one toy," you looked at natsuki as she busied herself setting the tea party kit on the floor without a care, "one."

sae followed your gaze to where natsuki sat—humming to herself as she sets a tiara on her head, "she looks happy..."

your gaze soften as you look at sae. he was trying. he really was. trying to be a good father, "sae," you cradle his face, "love, you're an amazing papa. but let's teach her boundaries hm?"

he sighs, "yeah. that goes for you too."

"excuse me?" your smile dropped as you put your hands on your hips, "how am i spoiling her?"

he huffs, "all the kisses you gave her the moment we entered the house?"

"i may or may not be wrong," you say, glancing at natsuki who seemed too busy placing barbie dolls on the makeshift chairs as she pours them tea, "you sound a bit jealous of your own daughter there."

"...so what if i am?"

"then i guess ive to spoil you too," you say, planting a quick peck on his lips that made natsuki gasp.

"ma and papa! you both kissy kissy!"

"that's right. me and ma very much kissy kissy."

you laughed at that. god, it was so rare for sae to say cheesy things like that. but when he did, you made sure to never let them out of your heart.

"ma, i wan' kissy! papa's kissy too!' she sets the little plastic cups down as the extends her arms open for her papa to carry.

both of you place multiple kissys on her face.

"god," sae exhales, "we really need to work on the boundaries."

itoshi rin

the rain was pouring for a while now, seeming to die down slowly but not fully—when papa rin and sakura decided to step out of the house wearing colourful raincoats(obviously she wore a colourful one, in contrast to her papa who wore a grey-black one.)

papa rin watches as she goes from puddle to puddle—jumping on them as she lets out little giggles.

"hey no—" rin tired stopping her when she got to a big, deep puddle. but it was too late and—

splash!

she slipped and fell, the mud messing her raincoat as well as her face. her papa hurried to pick her up, consoling her as tears ran down her face. he took of a delicate handkerchief from his pocket to wipe the mud from her face.

"you're ok, you're alright," he carries her in his arms saying that her face is still pretty in an attempt to calm her down.

"still pretty?" she looks at him with the big doe eyes of hers.

"the prettiest," he kisses her forehead, "just like your ma."

"noooo, ma's prettier!" sakura declares, "i'll get more pretty when i grow up!"

rin kisses her forehead again, "let's go home. no more puddles for today," he says softly.

"haiiii~"

sadly, the after math was that sakura stayed in bed, her ma and papa by her side while she laid sick. you caressed her hair, whispering sweet nothings and saying that she'll be fine and her papa held her hand.

when she fell asleep, you placed a mwah on her forehead before turning off the lamp light beside the table. you got up but rin didn't seem to move. he held her hand, looking at her—his expressions nonchalant but the sadness in his eyes lingered.

"it's not your fault," you place a hand on his shoulder, "she's fine. she's strong."

he hums, getting up, planting a kissy on her forehead as he walks out of her room, you following, shutting the door behind. and when you did, he immediately pulled you into his arms, burying his face into your hair as he seeks for comfort.

"don't worry. besides kids are meant to step into puddles and play with mud," you pull away, cradling his face, "you're a wonderful papa."

isagi yoichi

little yuki was starting to get frustrated—the puzzle pieces would just not come together, no matter how much her little hands work on them. she works hours and hours on it. and when they finally did join together, her papa had to pour water on it.

it wasnt his intention to really. it just happened as an accident, "yuki, princess, im sorry—" but it was too late as yuki sobs, running off to her room.

later that night, you find the space beside you empty. worried, you got up from the bed, quietly heading out. you see the kitchen lights on and there he was. your husband trying to solve the puzzle pieces together.

you call his name softly, he looks up at you, telling you that he's going to be fine. he just needs fifteen minutes.

you sit beside him, helping him sort the pieces together, "you're the best papa, you know that?" you assure, "yuki loves you so much."

the next morning, yuki woke up, rubbing her eyes as she walks into the kitchen. you greet your princess with a kissy, settling her down on the chair.

her eyes widen at the puzzle pieces that were once scattered—now together.

"it's your papa," you say, "he worked on it all night, yuki."

yuki immediately turns to her papa, hugging him tightly, "i love you papa!" her papa smiles, wrapping his arms around her, mumbling you a thank you.

michael kaiser

earlier that day, papa michael had gotten into a tinsy argument with his daughter. and as a way to get them to talk to each other, you decided to have a family time at the park. but anne refused to talk to her papa even tho he says he'll make it up to her.

you and michael walked behind as anne skips stones in front of her—kicking them with her foot.

you glance at your husband, seeing the look on his face that broke your heart. you reached for his hands, intertwining your fingers with her, "hey, it's gonna be ok," you assure and as a response, he only squeezes your hand tighter. "mihya, you're not a bad parent,"

he hums, "what if i—"

"you're not failing her," you halt him, not letting him finish that sentence, "anne loves you so so much."

he lets out an exhale, his shoulders relaxing at your reassurance. he brings up your hands, brushing hsi lips against your knuckles.

"ma! ma!" anne cried out, her voice full of panic.

she immediately runs to you, hugging your legs. confused, you look to see a stray dog appearing from behind the tree.

your eyes widen as you pick her up into your arms. but the thing was—you couldn't protect her, not with your fear of stray dogs too. you simply hugged her tighter as you turned around, squeezing her protectively.

michael steps in between, shielding you both from the dog.

"anne, come here," he calls as she looks up at him, "come to papa."

"...papa, 'm scared," she hugs you tighter.

"trust me, princess," he reaches out for her, "it won't do anything to you. not when your papa is here. i won't let it do anything to you. you're safe with me."

gently, he takes her in his arms, crouching down to the dog, as the barks fade away. michael reaches out to pet it—flinching at first—the doggy leans into his touch, "see? completely harmless," he reaches out to take her hand in his as he places it on the top of the doggy's head.

anne smiles, continuing to pat the dog's head while simultaneously clinging onto her papa.

after all, his arms were her safe place.

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fangdokja · 26 days ago

Text

Some truths are better left buried.

❤︎ Synopsis. A charming façade hides a mind unraveling, as jealousy sinks its claws into a man obsessed with the untouchable "Ice Queen," her mysterious past igniting a sinister need to claim what was never his to own.

♡ Book. A Heart Devoured: A Dark Yandere Anthology

♡ Pairing. Yandere! Ex-Boyfriend x Fem. Reader

♡ Novella. Friction & Fire - Part 2

♡ Word Count. 8,000

♡ TW. dom + top + older yandere, general non-con + manipulation, possessiveness, psychological manipulation and conditioning, suggestive themes, isolation, monitoring, lack of boundaries, non-con kissing and/or touching, forced relationship, BDSM, manipulation of circumstances

The office was silent except for the rhythmic tapping of your keyboard and the faint hum of the air conditioning. The morning sun bled through the blinds in fractured slivers, painting your desk in a dull, sterile glow. You sat across from him, your shoulders squared, your focus unyielding as you combed through line after line of data.

And yet, despite the quiet, he could feel the tension lingering between you like a living thing.

It was still on his mind.

He wasn’t the type to fixate—hell, he prided himself on letting things roll off his back—but this? The thought of your first kiss, of the strange, detached way you spoke about it last night, had lodged itself in his brain like a splinter.

He leaned back in his chair, one leg lazily draped over the other as he watched you with sharp, predatory focus. On the surface, he looked relaxed, his usual cocky nonchalance on full display. But beneath it, his mind was a storm.

“You know,” he began, his voice cutting through the stillness like a knife, “last night got me thinking.”

You didn’t respond, didn’t even look up. Your fingers danced across the keys, swift and precise, as though you hadn’t heard him at all.

He smiled, leaning forward just enough to rest his elbows on the table. “For someone who’s so good at everything, you sure don’t like talking about yourself, do you?”

Still, you gave him nothing. Not a word. Not a glance.

He didn’t let it deter him. If anything, your silence only spurred him on.

“So, first kiss,” he said, his tone as light as a feather, casual enough to sound innocent. “When was it? And don’t give me that ‘transaction’ excuse. I want details.”

Your fingers paused for half a second—so brief it was barely noticeable—but it was enough to make his grin widen.

“I’m working,” you said flatly, your voice like steel.

“And I’m curious,” he shot back smoothly, his grin taking on a sharper edge. “Come on, indulge me a little. Was it some rich heir your parents set you up with? Or…” He tilted his head, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Was it someone you actually liked?”

You exhaled slowly, your gaze still fixed on your screen. “Drop it.”

“Oh, I would,” he said, his voice dropping into a softer, more insidious tone. “But it’s kind of hard to stop wondering when you’re so damn mysterious about everything. I mean, it’s not like I’m asking for state secrets here. Just a name. Or a story. Something.”

Your fingers hit the keys a little harder now, your movements growing sharper, but you still refused to look at him.

He leaned back again, tapping his pen idly against the table, his expression deceptively calm. “Okay, fine. Let’s broaden the topic. Ever had any other boyfriends? Or am I the only one lucky enough to deal with your charming personality?”

The sarcasm in his tone was sharp, but it wasn’t enough to mask the strange, simmering edge beneath it.

“Work,” you said simply, not bothering to look at him.

“See, that’s what I’m talking about!” He leaned forward again, his voice growing louder, though his grin remained firmly in place. “You’re like a damn iron wall. It’s impressive, really. But also kind of annoying.”

You finally paused, your hands hovering above the keyboard as you turned to meet his gaze. Your expression was calm, cold, and utterly unreadable. “If I don’t answer,” you said, your voice low and measured, “will you stop asking?”

“Not a chance,” he said, his grin widening into something wolfish.

You sighed, turning back to your screen. “Then keep asking. It won’t change anything.”

He let out a soft laugh, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. There was something else there now, something darker and more insistent, coiling tightly in his chest.

He didn’t know why this mattered so much. Why the thought of someone else—someone before him—made his jaw clench and his stomach churn. But the idea wouldn’t let him go.

“Fair enough,” he said finally, his voice dropping into a softer, almost dangerous tone. “But don’t think I’m letting this go. Sooner or later, princess, I’ll get you to crack.”

Your silence was answer enough. But the faint flicker of annoyance in your eyes as you typed? That was all the encouragement he needed.

———

The late afternoon sun filtered through the office windows, casting long, golden streaks across the sterile desks. Papers and coffee cups littered the space, evidence of a day stretched too long. You sat at your desk, immersed in another report, your brow furrowed in concentration. The tension that had gripped you for days had finally loosened, and though your posture remained rigid, there was an air of calm about you now.

It was a calm he intended to disrupt.

He stretched lazily from his chair, a satisfied smirk curling his lips as he sauntered over to your side. His steps were slow, deliberate, the kind of gait that was both casual and predatory. Leaning down just slightly, he peered over your shoulder, his breath warm against your neck.

"Still working, huh? You're really setting a new standard for the term 'workaholic.' Should I be worried you're cheating on me with a spreadsheet?" His voice was light, teasing, but there was a flicker of something sharper beneath it.

You didn’t even glance his way. "Your jokes are terrible."

"Terrible? Wow, you wound me," he said, clutching at his chest as if your words had pierced his heart. But his grin didn’t waver. Instead, he slid closer, resting a hand casually on the back of your chair. "Seriously, though. You’re in a much better mood now. My charm’s working, isn’t it?"

"Or maybe I’m just ignoring you," you replied dryly, typing without pause.

He chuckled, his laughter rich and low. "Ignoring me? Oh, sweetheart, if you were ignoring me, you wouldn’t have responded at all."

You sighed, still refusing to meet his gaze. He watched you intently, his eyes tracing the lines of your face, the subtle movements of your lips as you murmured something under your breath. For a moment, he was silent, caught in the strange, unfamiliar pull of wanting to touch you—not for show, not as part of this ridiculous transactional arrangement, but because he wanted to feel the solidity of you beneath his hands.

So, he acted.

Before you could react, his arms were around you, pulling you into a firm, almost possessive embrace. He buried his face against your hair, his lips brushing against your temple in a gesture that was disarmingly tender.

You stiffened but didn’t pull away. Not yet.

"Not in public," you said flatly, your tone devoid of emotion.

He laughed, the sound vibrating through his chest. "We’re in an office. No one’s here but us. Doesn’t count."

You sighed, finally turning your head just enough to give him a withering look. "Still. Stop."

"Stop what?" he teased, his grin widening. He tilted his head, pressing his lips to your cheek in a playful kiss, lingering just enough to make your expression harden. "I’m just fulfilling my boyfriend duties. What, you don’t want me to be affectionate?"

"This isn’t affection. It’s a distraction," you retorted, your voice sharp but your body strangely still in his hold.

"Oh, so you do know what affection is. I was beginning to think you were allergic to it," he quipped, his arms tightening slightly as if daring you to push him away.

But you didn’t. Not yet.

His gaze drifted down to your lips again, unbidden memories of last night creeping into his mind. The way you’d slapped him, the way you’d rubbed at your mouth as if scrubbing him off—it had stung. More than he wanted to admit. And then you’d dropped that bomb about it not being your first kiss. That knowledge sat heavy in his chest now, simmering with something dark and ugly.

Jealousy.

He hated the word, hated the feeling even more. But there it was, coiled tight around his thoughts, tainting everything.

"Hey," he said suddenly, his voice softer, almost coaxing. "You never did tell me about your first kiss."

"Drop it," you said firmly, shifting in his hold.

"Come on," he pressed, his tone still light but his grip on you unyielding. "It’s not like I’m going to judge. I’m just… curious."

"I said drop it." This time, your voice had an edge to it, and you finally moved to shrug him off.

But he didn’t let go. Instead, he pulled back just enough to look at you, his expression carefully masked with that infuriating grin. "Alright, alright. I’ll drop it. For now."

You narrowed your eyes at him but said nothing, turning back to your work.

Still, his hands lingered, his fingers brushing over your arm in a way that felt deliberate. He smiled to himself, his mind churning with thoughts he didn’t want to dissect too closely.

Transactional or not, he was still your boyfriend. Your first boyfriend. The only one you had now.

And that? That was enough. For now.

────────────

The garage hummed with a low din: the scrape of pool cues against felt, the occasional clink of beer bottles, and the raucous laughter of his friends echoing off the cement walls. The air reeked of oil, sweat, and cheap cologne, a heady cocktail that somehow felt like home. He leaned against the pool table, a cue stick balanced lazily in one hand as his gaze drifted—unfocused, distant, and entirely unlike him.

“You good, man?” One of the guys leaned in, squinting at him. “You’ve been off all night. Usually, you’re the one running your mouth the loudest. What gives?”

He blinked, snapping out of his trance, and a lazy grin slid across his face. “What? I’m just letting you losers have your moment. Can’t have me wiping the floor with you every game.”

The group laughed, though the scrutiny didn’t ease. Someone else chimed in, gesturing toward him with a beer bottle. “Nah, nah, there’s something going on. You’ve been staring off into space like you’re in some indie movie montage. What’s eating you?”

He rolled his eyes, straightening up and spinning the cue stick in his hand. “Nothing’s eating me. You guys are just too boring to hold my attention.”

The teasing jabs came quick after that, each more ridiculous than the last. “Oh, I know what it is,” one of the guys said, smirking. “It’s that ice queen of his. What’s her name again? Miss ‘I’m too good for this world’?”

A chorus of laughter erupted, and he smirked, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You mean my girlfriend?” he shot back, raising an eyebrow. “Yeah, you wish you could land someone like her. Don’t be jealous just ’cause I’ve got taste.”

“Girlfriend, huh?” Another guy leaned in, grinning. “Man, you’ve never been serious about anyone in your life. What’s the deal? She finally melt that big ‘I don’t care about anything’ heart of yours?”

He snorted, the sound sharp and dismissive. “As if. It’s a transactional thing, remember? Don’t go reading any Nicholas Sparks nonsense into it.” He paused, spinning the cue stick once more before adding, almost offhandedly, “Though she did mention something interesting.”

That got their attention. “Oh?” one of them said, his tone dripping with curiosity. “What’s that?”

“She’s got a past,” he said, feigning nonchalance. “Romantic history or whatever.”

There was a beat of stunned silence before the room erupted into laughter again.

“Her? No way!” one of them wheezed, slapping his knee. “You’re telling me the Ice Queen actually let someone get close to her? Hell, I thought she’d freeze anyone who tried.”

“Right? She barely tolerates him,” another joked, pointing at him with a pool cue. “And he’s the boyfriend! Can you imagine anyone else even standing a chance?”

He shrugged, the grin on his face sharp and self-assured, but there was a flicker of something darker in his eyes. “Hey, I’m just as shocked as you guys. But yeah, apparently she’s kissed someone before. Wild, right?”

“Pfft, no way,” someone scoffed. “She’s probably messing with you. Bet she said it just to get under your skin.”

“Yeah, no offense, but she doesn’t exactly scream ‘romantic whirlwind.’ What, did she date a robot?”

The laughter rolled on, but he didn’t join in. Instead, he leaned back against the pool table, his grip tightening on the cue stick. He kept his expression light, easygoing, but inside, something coiled tighter and tighter, a venomous knot of jealousy and something he couldn’t quite name.

“Maybe she did,” he said finally, his voice smooth but edged with something razor-thin. “Or maybe she just has good taste and doesn’t fall for losers like you.”

The guys hooted and hollered, taking his words as another well-timed joke, but he didn’t laugh. Instead, his mind lingered on the thought of her—her cool, distant demeanor, the way she brushed him off like he was nothing. And yet… someone else had touched her first.

The idea churned in his gut, hot and nauseating.

Transactional or not, she was his now. Wasn’t she?

———

The laughter around him ebbed and flowed, but it barely registered. He leaned against the edge of the pool table, staring blankly at the neon beer sign on the wall. The buzz of their voices blurred into a distant hum, and his mind gnawed at the frayed edges of the conversation like a dog with a bone.

“Yo, you’re spacing out again,” one of the guys said, snapping his fingers in front of his face. “What’s the deal, man? You look like someone ran over your dog.”

He smirked, forcing himself back into the moment. “Please, like I’d ever let that happen. You guys know me—cool as a cucumber.”

“Cucumber, my ass,” someone quipped. “You’ve been weird ever since you brought up her romantic history. What’s the matter, hotshot? Jealous someone else got to her first?”

The words hit like a sucker punch. Jealous? Him? Of course not. He was the picture of casual detachment, the poster boy for not giving a damn. It wasn’t like they were in love. The relationship was an agreement, a mutually beneficial arrangement. It wasn’t supposed to be messy. It wasn’t supposed to matter.

But it did.

“Jealous? Me?” He barked out a laugh, the sound a little too sharp. “C’mon, you think I care about some guy who’s probably ancient history? If anything, I’m curious. What kind of guy would even catch her eye? She’s not exactly handing out free passes.”

“Curious, huh?” One of the guys grinned, leaning against his pool cue. “Sure, let’s call it that. I mean, it’s not like you’ve ever been the possessive type.”

The comment was met with a wave of snickers, and he rolled his eyes, his grin widening. “Exactly. I’m chill. Relaxed. Totally unbothered.” He emphasized the last word, slapping the pool table for effect, but the laughter around him only grew louder.

“Yeah, sure you are,” another guy chimed in, taking a swig from his beer. “That’s why you’ve been stewing over this for, what, ten minutes now?”

He forced another laugh, but inside, the knot in his chest tightened. What was wrong with him? This wasn’t like him. He’d had plenty of relationships—flings, hookups, even a couple that could loosely be called serious—and he’d never felt like this. Never felt this gnawing, restless ache that made him want to punch a wall and pull her closer at the same time.

It wasn’t even logical. So what if she’d had someone before him? It wasn’t like he owned her. She was her own person, icy and untouchable as she was. And yet…

And yet.

The image of her brushing off his kiss the night before crept into his mind, unbidden and unwelcome. The way she’d wiped her sleeve across her mouth, the way her voice had been sharp, cutting, when she’d told him it wasn’t her first kiss.

The thought burned.

He clenched his jaw, spinning his pool cue in his hands like a restless fidget. It didn’t make sense. None of it made sense. He wasn’t the jealous type. He wasn’t the possessive type. He was laid-back, easygoing, always ready with a joke or a grin. That was who he was. That was what made him so good at this kind of thing.

So why did the thought of her with someone else make him feel like he was coming apart at the seams?

“Alright, spill it,” one of the guys said, breaking through his spiraling thoughts. “Who was it, huh? Some prince charming? Some straight-laced business major who knows how to schmooze parents?”

He scoffed, the sound automatic. “Please. Like I’d even know. She didn’t exactly give me a play-by-play.”

“Bet it was some boring, pencil-pushing nerd,” another guy chimed in. “She seems like the type to go for someone... predictable.”

Predictable. The word grated against his nerves. Predictable wasn’t him. It wasn’t them. Their relationship, transactional as it was, wasn’t supposed to fit into neat little boxes. It was supposed to be different.

He was supposed to be different.

But here he was, sitting in a dingy garage with his friends, trying to rationalize the irrational. Trying to figure out why he cared so much about a past that wasn’t supposed to matter.

“You guys are way off,” he said finally, his tone light but his grip on the cue stick betraying him. “If she did have someone before me, they weren’t memorable. She’s with me now, isn’t she? That’s all that counts.”

“Spoken like a true charmer,” one of them teased, and he smirked, though the weight in his chest didn’t lift.

Yeah, she was with him now. That was all that mattered.

So why didn’t it feel like enough?

———

The ribbing didn’t stop. If anything, it picked up speed like a train without brakes, and he was tied to the tracks.

“You’re really off your game tonight, man,” one of them said, chalking the tip of his cue stick. “You keep spacing out, missing shots, and letting us win? That’s not you. You’re usually the one handing us our asses.”

Another chimed in, leaning against the edge of the table with a sly grin. “Seriously, you’ve got this whole garage thinking. Is the great charmer finally losing his touch? That what’s bugging you?”

He twirled his cue with exaggerated nonchalance, plastering a smirk across his face even as his grip tightened enough to whiten his knuckles. “Please. Like I’d ever lose my touch. I could charm the rust off a bolt if I wanted to. I’m just... keeping things interesting. Letting you guys feel like you’ve got a shot for once.”

The laughter was immediate, loud, and thoroughly unconvinced. One of them even doubled over, clutching his stomach.

“Yeah, right. You’ve been distracted all night. And don’t think we didn’t catch the little bombshell you dropped earlier. The Ice Queen has a romantic history?”

“Shocking, right?” another piped up, voice dripping with mock astonishment. “I mean, no offense, but she doesn’t seem like the type to go for you. Or anyone, really.”

He rolled his eyes but didn’t interrupt, knowing that trying to stop them would only make it worse. He’d been here before—well, not exactly here, but close enough to know the best way out was to wait until they got bored.

Too bad that wasn’t happening anytime soon.

“I mean, think about it,” one of them continued, his tone growing more amused by the second. “She’s this cold, untouchable, straight-laced type. Always looks like she’s got a stick up her—”

“Careful,” he interrupted, his tone light but the edge unmistakable. The shift in the air was subtle but palpable, like the faint scent of ozone before a storm.

The guy raised his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. My bad. I was just saying—she’s not exactly your usual type. And you’re definitely not hers.”

“Yeah,” another added with a smirk. “She probably goes for, like, bookworm types. You know, the quiet, nerdy guys who read poetry and bring her tea while she’s working. The ones who wouldn’t dare try anything until they’ve written a formal letter asking for permission.”

That earned a round of chuckles, and his smirk faltered for a fraction of a second. Not that anyone else noticed—they were too busy piling on.

“Yeah, man, face it. You’re too loud, too flashy. She probably thinks you’re just a walking ego trip. All charm, no substance.”

“Exactly,” someone else added. “It’s probably why your charm doesn’t work on her. She’s immune. Bet she’s only with you because it’s convenient or something.”

The words hit harder than they should have, slipping under his skin and sticking there like splinters. He forced out a laugh, sharp and just a little too loud. “Convenient? Yeah, right. She’s lucky to have me. I’m the full package: brains, brawn, and a personality that makes life interesting.”

“Interesting, huh?” another guy said, raising an eyebrow. “Or annoying? Pretty sure those are interchangeable in your case.”

“Hey, she hasn’t dumped me yet,” he shot back, deflecting with practiced ease. “That’s gotta count for something.”

But even as he spoke, the words rang hollow. His usual bravado felt like a thin shell, barely holding together under the weight of something he didn’t want to name. Something ugly, and burning, and clawing at the edges of his chest.

Jealousy.

He hated admitting it, even to himself. But the idea of her with some quiet, bookish type—the kind of guy who might actually understand her silences and match her calm, reclusive nature—was like sandpaper against his nerves.

And worse, the idea that she might prefer someone like that...

He clenched his jaw, his smirk freezing into something sharper.

“You know,” one of them said, breaking into his thoughts, “it’s kinda funny. For all your talk, you’re acting a lot like a guy who’s got something to prove. Like you actually care what she thinks.”

“I don’t,” he lied smoothly, his voice as light as air. “Why would I? It’s not like this is anything serious.”

The words tasted bitter, but he swallowed them down, flashing a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Whatever you say, man,” someone said, shaking their head. “But you might want to figure it out before she realizes you’re not as cool as you think you are.”

The garage erupted into laughter again, and he joined in, the sound loud and hollow.

But later, when he was alone, the laughter would fade, leaving only the burning question that wouldn’t let him rest:

Why did it matter so damn much?

────────────

The stars above the city burned cold, distant, and sharp as needles. The private balcony was far enough from the glittering chaos of the gala to offer a semblance of quiet, though the muffled hum of music and laughter still seeped through the glass doors. The cold air bit at your skin, but it was a welcome reprieve from the stifling heat of the crowd.

He leaned against the balustrade, a champagne flute dangling from his fingers, the liquid untouched and shimmering like pale gold in the faint light. His tailored suit clung to his frame, the picture of nonchalance, but his eyes betrayed him—glinting with something predatory, something calculating.

“So,” he began, his voice smooth and edged with a teasing lilt. “I was thinking.”

You didn’t bother to turn from the view of the sprawling city below. “That’s dangerous.”

He chuckled, soft and low, but there was a weight to it that made your spine stiffen. He tilted his head, watching you like a hawk sizing up its prey. “Funny. No, really, I’ve been thinking about us.”

“Us,” you echoed flatly. “The contract is clear. There’s nothing to think about.”

“Sure,” he said, pushing off the railing and stepping closer. His presence was like a shadow swallowing light, oppressive and impossible to ignore. “But I’ve been reviewing it, and I think we’ve overlooked some... fine print.”

“Fine print,” you repeated, finally turning to face him, your expression impassive. “There is no fine print. You drafted it yourself, remember?”

“Exactly,” he said, flashing a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Which means I have the right to amend it if I see fit. And I’ve noticed a few areas that could use... adjustment.”

You crossed your arms, your gaze narrowing. “Such as?”

He stepped closer, close enough that the faint scent of his cologne mingled with the crisp night air. His tone was light, almost playful, but there was an undercurrent of something darker, something that coiled around his words like smoke.

“For one,” he began, “I think we need to establish clearer boundaries about third-party interactions. You know, to avoid misunderstandings.”

Your brow twitched. “There haven’t been any misunderstandings.”

“Not yet,” he agreed, his voice soft and coaxing, like a blade hidden in velvet. “But let’s be proactive. For instance, we should clarify what kind of behavior is acceptable when interacting with... other men.”

You stared at him, your expression as unyielding as stone. “That’s unnecessary.”

“Is it?” he countered, his grin sharpening. “You don’t think it’s wise to define expectations? After all, appearances are everything. Wouldn’t want anyone getting the wrong idea about us.”

“People already know what this is,” you said coolly. “A performance. There’s no need to complicate it.”

“But isn’t the whole point of a performance to make it convincing?” he asked, his tone dripping with feigned innocence. “And for that, we need consistency. Unity. Which is why I propose we add a clause about exclusive proximity.”

“Exclusive proximity,” you echoed, your voice flat. “That’s absurd.”

“Is it?” he asked, tilting his head. “Think about it. If we’re seen with too many... distractions, it undermines the whole charade. It’s just common sense.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but he was already pressing on, his words smooth and relentless.

———

The air seemed to thin as his words settled between you, the kind of silence that carried a weight far heavier than sound. He leaned closer, bracing himself against the railing with the kind of ease that betrayed the sharpness lurking beneath his carefully curated mask of charm. The city glittered below, but its brilliance felt muted compared to the fire smoldering in his gaze.

“Let me break it down,” he said, his voice silken, the edges just sharp enough to catch. “Exclusivity isn’t just about proximity. It’s about cohesion. A story without holes. Every moment you’re with someone else—a colleague, a stranger, hell, even a waiter—it opens a crack in the facade.”

Your eyes flicked to him, narrowing. “You’re reaching.”

He smiled—a wolfish, predatory thing. “Am I? Think about it. Someone catches sight of you laughing with some random nobody, and suddenly, the gossip mill is running wild. The illusion cracks. We lose credibility. And if there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s losing.”

The venomous certainty in his tone made your stomach twist, though your face remained unreadable. “So what exactly are you proposing?”

He straightened, his shadow looming over you as if it carried a weight beyond the physical. “Ground rules. For both of us. Simple ones. For example…” He tapped a finger against the champagne flute, the ring of the glass echoing faintly. “No private conversations with anyone of interest. No one-on-one meetings without prior notice. And no touching—intentional or otherwise—unless absolutely necessary.”

Your brow arched, your lips tightening. “No touching. That’s… excessive.”

“Is it?” he shot back smoothly, tilting his head as if genuinely curious. “Think about it. Even the smallest gesture—a hand on the shoulder, a brush of fingers—can be misconstrued. Especially when it’s you.” His gaze flickered, a flash of something unspoken. “People notice you. They watch. And they talk.”

You crossed your arms, leaning back slightly against the balcony rail. “Fine. But if we’re establishing rules, they go both ways. You don’t exactly have a reputation for restraint.”

His grin widened, amusement flickering in the depths of his eyes. “Touché. Consider it mutual, then. No unnecessary interaction, no inappropriate proximity. Strictly business.”

“And why now?” you asked, your voice measured, almost detached. “Why bring this up tonight?”

For a moment, something flickered across his face—an almost imperceptible crack in the facade. But he recovered quickly, his grin sharpening. “Call it foresight. With the families involved, things get messier. More eyes, more pressure. We can’t afford to slip.”

You studied him, your silence stretching just long enough to make his fingers twitch against the railing. Finally, you inclined your head. “Fine. If that’s what it takes to keep this convincing, I’ll play along.”

He exhaled, a sound that was almost a laugh but carried none of the humor. “Good. I knew you’d see reason.” He lifted his champagne glass in a mock toast, the liquid catching the starlight like liquid fire. “To flawless performances.”

You didn’t respond, turning back to the city below. The cold bit deeper now, but you didn’t shiver. Behind you, his gaze lingered, heavy and unrelenting.

The ground rules were set, the game clearly defined. But as the night pressed on, the sense of control he so carefully clung to felt like it was unraveling thread by thread.

And it wasn’t the rules that haunted him—it was why he felt the need to create them in the first place.

———

He leaned casually against the railing, but his posture was deceptively loose, the sharp intelligence in his eyes betraying his calculated intent. The champagne glass in his hand caught the faint glow of the city below, though he hadn’t touched a drop.

“So,” he began, his tone laced with a playful edge, “while we’re ironing out the details, there’s another area I think we should revisit. Physical affection.”

Your eyes snapped to his, cold and narrowed. “What about it?”

He smirked, tilting his head slightly as though considering his words carefully. “Let’s be honest. Right now, the way things are? We’re convincing, sure—but just barely. The hand-holding, the occasional arm around the waist? It’s surface-level. Anyone with half a brain can see through it.”

“That’s the point,” you replied, your voice calm but firm. “It’s enough to maintain appearances without crossing unnecessary lines.”

His grin widened, but there was an almost imperceptible edge to it, a flicker of something darker in his expression. “Enough for who? The nosy old ladies at brunch? Sure. But for the vultures at this level? Not a chance. They smell weakness. And right now, what they see screams ‘contractual convenience,’ not passion. We need to up our game.”

You folded your arms across your chest, your stance unmoving. “Define ‘up our game.’”

“Well,” he said smoothly, setting the untouched glass on the railing, “kisses, for one. Not just the casual kind. Something real. Convincing. Hell, even a few heated moments in public wouldn’t hurt. And behind closed doors?” He gave a mock shrug, his grin turning teasing. “Who knows? Maybe even a little noise for the sake of appearances.”

You rolled your eyes so hard it was a wonder they didn’t fall from your skull. “You’re joking.”

“Am I?” he replied, his tone maddeningly reasonable. “Think about it. The way things are now, people will start talking. Rumors of a weak marriage. Arranged out of convenience, not love. And with you being... well, you—” his gaze flicked over you, deliberate and lingering— “it won’t take long for people to start circling. People like to test boundaries when they think they can get away with it.”

“People already talk,” you shot back. “That’s inevitable. But none of this changes the fact that this is fake. I’m not pretending that far.”

“Why not?” he countered, his grin sharpening. “You’ve already agreed to exclusivity. This is just the logical next step.”

“It’s unnecessary,” you said flatly. “The exclusivity rules make sense. This? This is overreach.”

He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a low, almost coaxing tone. “Is it, though? Think about it. If we don’t convince them, it undermines everything we’ve built. You don’t want to spend the rest of this arrangement fending off speculation and propositions, do you?”

“Speculation is manageable,” you said, your voice cool and steady. “And propositions are irrelevant. I can handle myself.”

“Of course you can,” he said, his tone light but his gaze intense. “But why should you have to? Why not just nip it in the bud? Make it clear to everyone that you’re untouchable.”

Your lips pressed into a thin line, your patience fraying. “I already am untouchable.”

His grin didn’t waver, but there was a flicker of something else beneath it—jealousy, sharp and bitter. “Sure. But people don’t see that. What they see is opportunity. The kind that comes from a woman who’s too beautiful, too brilliant, and too unattainable for her own good.”

The words were teasing, but the way he said them made your skin prickle. There was something possessive lurking beneath the surface, something he tried to bury beneath layers of logic and charm but couldn’t entirely hide.

“This isn’t about logic,” you said, your voice steady but edged with steel. “It’s about control. And I’m not giving you that.”

He raised his hands in mock surrender, his grin turning mischievous. “Touché. But hey, I’m just saying—when the rumors start flying and the vultures start circling, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

You turned back to the city, dismissing him with a sharp glance. “Noted. But the answer is still no.”

He chuckled softly, the sound low and dangerous. “Fair enough. For now.”

———

The cold of the night pressed against your skin, biting and relentless, but his body, wrapped tightly around yours, was an oppressive heat you couldn’t shake. The weight of his arms on your shoulders felt heavier than it should, his fingers grazing your arms with a possessive slowness. He leaned into you, his chest firm against your back, his breath warm and invasive against your ear.

“You know,” he murmured, his tone as smooth as the glassy city lights below, “this hesitation of yours—it’s fascinating. Almost charming, in its own way. But... I can’t help but wonder.” His voice dipped lower, a silken purr laced with something darker. “What’s got you so hesitant? People do this all the time, don’t they? Even when it doesn’t mean anything.”

You stiffened, your gaze locked on the sprawling cityscape, refusing to turn. Your neutrality was a fortress, built brick by brick to withstand his probing. But his persistence was a battering ram. Slowly, deliberately, he dipped his head closer, inhaling deeply near the curve of your neck, the action intimate enough to send a shiver rippling through your body.

“Unless,” he mused, his lips curving into a smirk you couldn’t see but could feel like a knife at your throat, “it’s because of them. You know, the one who got that first kiss of yours. Was it them?”

The question hung in the air, venomous and cutting. For a fraction of a second, the apathy on your face cracked—a millisecond’s slip in the armor you wore so flawlessly. Your hand twitched, and your lips parted as though to respond, but no words came. Instead, your expression hardened once more, a glacial mask snapping back into place. Silent. Untouchable.

But he had seen it.

That brief, fleeting moment of vulnerability had told him more than you ever could. And though his smile remained, it was stretched too tight, his teeth bared in something that wasn’t amusement. His fingers dug into your shoulders, just a little too hard, before softening as if to mask the momentary lapse in control.

“Ah,” he said, the word slipping out in a low exhale, almost inaudible. He pressed closer, the air between you suffocating. “So it was them. That explains so much.”

His tone was still light, teasing, but the undercurrent of tension was unmistakable, coiling tighter and tighter beneath his practiced facade. His lips ghosted near your temple, the proximity a calculated weapon, and his fingers trailed down your arms, leaving trails of heat in their wake.

“You know,” he continued, his voice honeyed but sickly sweet, “whoever they were... they must have left quite the impression to make you this way. But I’m curious—did it mean anything to you? Or was it just... a moment?”

Your silence was deafening, a dagger plunged into the space between you.

He chuckled softly, though the sound was hollow. “Not that it matters, of course. You’re here now, with me. That’s all that really counts, isn’t it?”

But his grip tightened imperceptibly, his smile curving into something dangerous, something that betrayed the storm raging just beneath the surface. He didn’t let go. If anything, his hold on you became stronger, his presence more invasive.

And though he kept his composure, the truth was a venomous whisper in his mind, sinking its fangs deep and twisting.

Not fucking happy at all.

────────────

He didn't bring it up again. Any of it, anymore.

But, the room still felt colder than it should have. The air conditioning hummed low, but the chill that seeped into your skin wasn’t mechanical. It was the kind of cold that came from within, from the way your fingers gripped the edge of the desk too tightly, from the rigidity in your spine as you pretended not to notice the man leaning against the corner with the practiced ease of someone who could read you too well.

He’d been watching you for too long now, his gaze like a scalpel, peeling away layers you’d tried so hard to keep intact. He shifted, breaking the stillness with a deliberate, exaggerated sigh.

“You know,” he began, his voice carrying that maddeningly playful lilt, “if looks could kill, that desk would be in pieces by now. What’d it ever do to you, baby?”

You didn’t answer. Of course, you didn’t.

He moved closer, the faint scent of his cologne mingling with the sterile air. The sound of his footsteps was soft but deliberate, a hunter’s tread. “Still giving me the silent treatment? Harsh. I’m starting to think you don’t appreciate my charming company.”

“Go away,” you said, your voice clipped, devoid of emotion. Your fingers tightened on the desk, a small tell he didn’t miss.

“Aw, come on,” he said, his grin audible in his voice. “Don’t be like that. I’m just trying to help. You know, as your incredibly dedicated, selfless boyfriend.” He leaned closer, his hand resting on the back of your chair. “And let’s face it, I’m the only person who’d put up with you when you’re like this.”

You rolled your eyes but didn’t look at him. It was exactly the reaction he wanted.

“Seriously,” he continued, his tone shifting to something softer but no less teasing. “What’s going on? You’re more wound up than usual, and that’s saying something.”

“I’m fine,” you said, the words flat, a wall slamming down between you.

“Sure you are,” he said, circling around to lean on the desk beside you. He crossed his arms, his smirk unwavering. “You know, for someone so icy, you’re terrible at hiding when something’s bothering you.”

“I said I’m fine,” you repeated, your tone sharper now.

“And I said I don’t believe you,” he shot back, his voice light but with an edge of persistence. “C’mon, Ice Queen. What’s eating at you? Work? Family? Or did someone finally dare to make eye contact for more than three seconds?”

You ignored him, your focus locked on the papers in front of you, but he wasn’t deterred. He crouched slightly, putting himself in your line of sight.

“Look, I get it,” he said, his tone almost mockingly serious. “You’re all about the whole ‘strong, independent, untouchable’ thing. Very admirable. But newsflash, sweetheart: nobody’s that stoic all the time. Except maybe statues. And even they crack eventually.”

You pushed back from the desk abruptly, rising to your feet, but he didn’t give you space. Instead, he moved closer, his hand brushing your arm as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“You’re really not gonna tell me, huh?” he said, his voice dropping to a murmur. He leaned in slightly, his breath warm against your ear. “Not even a hint? A clue? C’mon, I’m dying here.”

You stiffened, stepping away, but he followed, his persistence like a shadow clinging to your every move. His hand caught yours this time, his grip firm but not forceful.

“You know,” he said, tilting his head with a smirk that was all sharp edges, “this whole ‘bottling it up’ thing you do? It’s kinda cute. Annoying, but cute. But it’s also not healthy. So spill.”

“There’s nothing to spill,” you snapped, finally turning to face him. Your eyes were cold, your voice even colder, but he wasn’t fazed.

“Liar,” he said simply, his grin widening. “You’re terrible at it, by the way. And you know I’m not going anywhere until you give me something.”

You glared at him, your jaw tightening, but he just leaned closer, his fingers brushing against your arm. “Is it work? Someone bothering you? Or��” His tone shifted, sly and teasing now. “Wait, don’t tell me. Is it me? Did I finally get under your skin?”

“Always,” you muttered, pulling your hand free and turning away.

He laughed, the sound warm but with a sharpness that didn’t quite match. “Good. Means I’m doing my job right. But seriously, baby girl, if someone’s bothering you—besides me, obviously—you’d tell me, right?”

You didn’t answer, and for a moment, the teasing dropped from his voice entirely. He straightened, his gaze darkening as he watched you retreat to the far side of the room.

“You don’t tell anyone anything, do you?” he said softly, almost to himself. The words weren’t a question; they were a statement, heavy with an emotion he refused to name.

You paused, your back to him, but didn’t turn.

“Fine,” he said after a moment, his usual bravado snapping back into place like armor. He grinned, stepping toward you again. “Keep your secrets. But just so you know, sweetheart, I’m very good at getting what I want. And you? You’re not as unreadable as you think.”

The way he said it—soft, teasing, but with an undercurrent of something darker—sent a shiver down your spine. But you didn’t respond, and he didn’t push further. Not yet.

────────────

The glow of his laptop bathed the dim room in cold, blue light. The muffled sounds of the city filtered through the cracked window—a distant hum of engines, the occasional wail of a siren. But none of it reached him. His focus was absolute, his fingers ghosting over the keyboard with a precision that bordered on surgical.

Lines of text blurred and refreshed, tabs multiplied, searches refined. It was nothing. It was nothing. Just... research. A precaution, really. Something any diligent professional would do in his field.

"Due diligence." The phrase rolled through his mind like a soothing mantra as he adjusted his search parameters. Business students did this all the time, didn’t they? Gathering information on potential clients, tracking leads. It wasn’t unethical—it was smart. Practical. Just like he was.

His brow furrowed as the screen refreshed again, yielding nothing new. No personal social media accounts. No tagged photos. Everything you had out there was airtight—pristine. Your LinkedIn was polished to perfection, clinical and devoid of any personal flair. Your work email was meticulously professional. No footprints, no cracks.

You were a fortress, an enigma wrapped in ice, and it was maddening.

"Not even a stupid Instagram," he muttered under his breath, leaning back in his chair and scrubbing a hand through his hair. His other hand hovered over the touchpad, fingers twitching with a restless energy he couldn’t quite contain. He hated how good you were at this, at keeping the world at arm's length. It was infuriating.

And yet, it only made him more determined.

Because how else was he supposed to help you? Protect you? It wasn’t like you’d talk to him, let alone open up. You were a steel door slammed shut, your apathy the lock, and your sharp, biting tongue the key he could never quite reach.

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “This isn’t stalking,” he murmured, as if saying it aloud could make it true. “This is... protecting my investment.”

He winced at the word. It felt wrong somehow, but logical. The contract between you two was the foundation of your relationship, after all. If you didn’t want to share your problems with him, fine—but he couldn’t just stand by and do nothing. That wasn’t who he was.

“People research celebrities all the time,” he reasoned, his voice low and even, the rhythm of his own words calming. “Background checks, public records... It’s normal. It’s not like I’m invading her privacy. This is just... strategy.”

But even as he said it, a part of him bristled.

It wasn’t just strategy. And he knew it.

The truth was, it gnawed at him—the not knowing. The mystery of you was a drug he couldn’t quit, the unanswered questions keeping him awake at night. Who was the person who kissed you first? Why did your walls feel so much higher, so much thicker, lately? What the hell was going on in that brilliant, maddening head of yours?

He leaned forward again, fingers flying across the keyboard with renewed purpose. If he couldn’t ask you, he’d find out on his own. He told himself it wasn’t because he needed to know, wasn’t because the thought of anyone else touching you—or knowing you—made his stomach twist with something cold and acidic.

No, it wasn’t jealousy again. It was logic. Rationality.

But as the hours ticked by and the search grew colder, that logic began to crack.

His phone buzzed, breaking the silence. He glanced at the screen—one of the boys from the garage had sent a message, probably another joke about his “domestication.” He ignored it, returning his gaze to the screen.

Nothing. Again.

“Damn it,” he hissed, slamming the laptop shut with more force than necessary. He sat back, running both hands through his hair, staring up at the cracked ceiling.

You were impossible. And that impossibility—it thrilled him. Infuriated him. Tore at him like a splinter buried too deep to pull out.

But he wouldn’t stop. Not until he had answers.

Because protecting you wasn’t just part of the job anymore.

It was everything.

Yandere! Ex-Boyfriend & Cheating Bitch

Novella 1 : Friction & Fire

She wasn't looking for love, but love wasn't asking for permission.

Some truths are better left buried.

♡ A/N. Not me only realizing recently that this was a FINISHED work that I never posted. My drafts in Tumblr are a mess I tell you. It's like the various requests, fandoms, and works in general are mixing wahaha. YOU KNOW WHAT IT FEELS LIKE???? It's like I'm universe hopping in the multiverse, going to different fandoms and worlds to bring the content you all want. And, just like someone with multiple jobs and side hustles; if it's not recorded or arranged right, it gets lost to the void I tell you. wahhhhh

♡ Masterlist. If you want to be added or removed from the tag list, just comment on the MASTERLIST of A Heart Devoured (AHD): A Dark Yandere Anthology. Thank you.

♡ Tag List. “A Heart Devoured”: @definetlythinkimanalien , @floooring , @lilyalone , @theogborjie , @ne7zach , @songbirdgardensworld

❤︎ Fang Dokja's Books.

♡ Book 1. A Heart Devoured (AHD): A Dark Yandere Anthology ♡ Book 2. 🔞Forbidden Fruits (FF): Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires. ♡ Book 3. World Ablaze (WA) : For You, I'd Burn the World. ♡ Book 4. Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows.

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hottestvirgin · 10 months ago

Text

𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐘 | 𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐘𝐔𝐊

you and hyuck are in an open relationship, but at some point you get jealous that he regularly fucks with another woman. now, you have to prove that you’re better than her.

warnings(17+). nsfw, protected sex, rough sex, creampie, cunnilingus, slight dacryphilia, pet names, dirty talk, oral sex [for @toniiswrld !] & im taking requests rn!

walking through your apartment door was like deja-vu to him. he didn’t even knock. he never had to, ever since you’ve both developed this relationship. you were both friends years prior to hooking up.

in all honesty, you never really cared about who hyuck messed with. as long as he kept seeing you at the end. but it wasn’t until he started openly fucking another woman.

“we’re fucking, by the way.” hyuck casually told you as he scrolled through her social media account, clicking random pictures of hers to show you.

that was the first time jealousy had smacked you across the face. she was pretty, gorgeous even. but you weren’t jealous of her looks. you were jealous that she was getting what you thought was yours and yours only.

well, you did set this boundary— where you and him both could keep seeing other people without any hard feelings. but damn, did it come back and slap you in the face.

hyuck could sense your bitterness and turned his phone off, rubbing your thigh while he stared at you. “what happened to that mark guy? you stopped seeing him?”

“yeah. months ago,” you told him simply, meeting his gaze, “i told you this.” you had broken things off with mark because a tiny part of you felt that your relationship with hyuck was growing stronger to the point where you didn’t want anybody else but him.

and hyuck didn’t say anything, only staring at you as you tried to act nonchalant as possible. but he could see right through you, and you didn’t know that. “you good?” he questioned, studying your face.

“i’m good.”

“we lying to each other now?” the hand on your thigh inched higher and you began wondering if he could even hear your pounding heart in that moment.

he didn’t stop there— his hand slid around your waist and pulled you into his arms, guiding you onto his lap. this only created a new profound tension now that your eyes were on his and his’ only.

you swallowed hard with a nervous giggle, “i’m not lying to you, boy.”

“boy?” a chuckle fell past his plush lips and he rode his hand up and down your back. he was teasing you. seeing how far he could take his tricks until you reacted. seduction was always a game to him and you hated how you, along with every woman he knew, lost.

you hummed at his words, “it’s getting pretty late. i think you should go see that other girl if you’re this horny.” you stood from his lap but he caught your wrist and pulled you back onto him.

“this what we doin’ now, Y/N?” he asked, face inching closer and closer to yours. he caught your lips into his but before it got steamier you pulled away with a small smile and a nod. “cool.”

weeks had passed and your time with hyuck went from seeing each other damn near everyday to casual texting to which he barely even responded to. everytime you called him he’d tell you that he was with that girl.

you hated feeling this desperate— telling yourself to swallow your pride and try calling him to see if he’d still want to come over, or if he still even wanted to fuck with you.

but it was so much you could take. you didn’t care about getting dick-ed down by him anymore, you just wanted your friend back.

eventually you stopped trying to reach him until one night, you received a phone call from “H”, (you had changed his contact name to be petty.) you stared at your phone for a split second before letting it stop buzzing.

H: wyd?

H: why you ain’t answer?

H: hello?

the buzzes continued and continued and continued. you were so close to answering to tell him to stop. but you heard your front door opening and shutting. you knew it was him but you wanted to keep acting nonchalant.

hyuck spotted you on your couch, snuggled up in your blanket while watching tv. he glared at you for a few seconds before opening his mouth.

“so you ignoring me now?” he walked over to you, standing in front of the tv when you didn’t respond fast enough. when you tried moving your head to see the screen he moved with you.

“move..”

“no,” he kept watching you, “why are you being like this?”

at this point, you had thought that it’d be better if you’d come out and tell him why you were upset, even though it was pretty clear. he wasn’t dumb and he was very aware on how you were after knowing you for so long.

“so you haven’t been responding back to me because you were with her?” you asked simply. hyuck paused for a minute to take in your words, then he laughed. “so that’s what this is about?” he asked, “you being bitter?”

“m’ not bitter..”

“you are. and i wasn’t even with her today. i was with her yesterday.” he told you as if it was any better. that had pissed you off, and it didn’t help that he sat next to you on the couch. you tried scooting away but a firm grip on your arm pulled you closer to him.

“why are you being like this?” he asked again. and it took everything in you not to scream at him. he had literally dumped you for some random bitch.

“you need to stop seeing her.” you said, and hyuck furrowed his eyebrows, “what makes you think you can tell me who i stop seeing?”

“because i don’t want you fucking her!” you snapped, yanking your arm away from his grip. now, you were very upset. you had thought that it would prompt him to leave but he didn’t.

hyuck tsked at your words, “just so greedy,” he wrapped his arm around your waist, harder, pulling you towards his chest, “doing all this over some dick?”

well.. yes. you were, and you didn’t care anymore. he was yours first for years and you wanted to take back what was yours. but you couldn’t lie anymore, being pulled against his chest brought a new wave of warmness over you. and you realized how much you actually liked him.

how warm his tanned skin felt against yours, the way his bangs fell messily over his forehead. the manspread, his smell, everything.

“who's better.. me or her?”

hyuck paused for a minute, “i dunno, help me decide.” he ran his hand over the hardening bulge in his joggers and you were quick to get rid of them, crawling onto your knees below him.

you were so desperate to prove to him that your better than her, way better. leaving him in his boxers, you’re met with his erection. you ran your palm against him and he groaned lowly.

you pulled his boxers down and wrapped your fingers around his shaft, pumping your hand and he bit back another groan, lifting his shirt to watch you spit on his tip. “has she ever gotten you this hard before?” you asked.

“only you.” he told you, and it made your stomach churn in arousal. you were quick to part your lips and lick his tip. hyuck hissed and threw his head back, adam’s apple bobbing when he swallowed hard. then, you traced patterns along his tip, digging your tongue into his slit.

his hips jerked, “b-baby.. fuck,” he whimpered, warmness pooling in the pit of his stomach, “put it in your mouth.”

you complied, taking in a deep breath through your nose while you took him into your mouth, the corners of your mouth stretching to accommodate his size. hyuck groaned again when you started bobbing your head, using your hand to hold what you couldn’t take.

“shiiit, just like that.” he strained, grabbing a handful of your hair, and you looked up at him through your eyelashes, his huge eyes staring back down at you. he thought you looked so cute with his cock stuffed in your mouth, he had missed this sight so much.

your heart pounded restlessly in your chest from the intense arousal that coursed through your body. you could feel wetness pooling in your panties as he stared down at you lustfully, eyebrows furrowed with his mouth slightly agape.

you could feel his cock twitch and throb in your mouth. he was quick to yank your head away, creating a small pop sound. spit dribbled down your chin and you wiped it off with the back of your hand. you gave him a certain look of annoyance.

“take your shorts off.” he purred, and you were quick to get rid of them. you could sense the shift in his demeanor, from needy to hungry.

“what?” he smiled, pushing you onto your back, the cold leather beneath you sent shivers down your spine, “haven’t tasted this pussy in so long.”

he was quick to push your legs apart, sprinkling wet kiss along your inner thighs just until he reached your heat. you were genuinely trying not to lose your shit since you haven’t gotten ate out in forever.

but when his tongue traced around your clit before sucking it in between his plush lips, you winced and your body tensed, hand reaching to massage your own breasts. then he lapped at your dripping hole, taking in the familiar taste and scent.

“hnngh, h-hyuck..” you cried out. he hummed at your whines, tongue gliding from your clit to your hole in fat stripes. he squeezed your soft thighs, slurping at your juices. your face burned in embarrassment at how wet you were. but you couldn’t help it, you missed your man.

he pulled away, just for a minute, kissing and licking your thighs again. “i hear you, pretty.” he mumbled against your thighs, all the way to your stomach and when he reached your clothed breasts, he was quick to tear the fabric away, latching his lips onto your hardened nipples.

as he sucked in them, he rubbed your clit in figure eights, occasionally running them over your hole and fuck.

“t..think m’ gonna cum.” you mewled, surprised at your own words. in your defense, you were technically edged for months. and little friction had your hips jerking for more.

“already?” hyuck teased, as if he wasn’t near his release from how pretty and desperate you looked, “open your mouth.”

you did, and he was quick to catch your lips into his. while he kissed you, his fingers slid into you, curling and hitting that spot almost immediately. it was sadistic how fast he started fingering you, squelching noises echoing in the living room as you’re silence by his lips.

you couldn’t even tell him that you were cumming but he knew from how you tighten around his fingers, clear liquid spilling out of you with each thrust.

he pulled away from your lips with a smile, your moans instantly spilling from your mouth.

“h..hyuck- ah, i..cant, fuuuuck—“ you pushed at his wrists, and he stopped, pulling his fingers out of you and you watched your juice drip from his hand.

“look how wet you got my fingers.” he held them up and your face twisted and went hot in embarrassment. hyuck grabbed your arm and turned you around, bending you over. when he lined his tip with your entrance, you wanted to get one last jab at him.

“wait. get a condom.” you huffed. hyuck sighed and reached for his discarded pants, pulling a condom from his pocket and ripping it open with his teeth, “you trying to be funny?” he questioned.

with a shrug, “don’t want whatever she probably gave you.” you stated, and you could tell that he was getting annoyed as he rolled the rubber onto his tip, rolling it onto him completely. “you got an attitude on you tonight, huh?”

sitting up, he manhandled you onto your hands and knees, lining his tip with your hole and without any warning, he slid in. the burning sensation of being stretched after weeks of no dick had you biting back a moan.

hyuck moved his hips, pushing the center of your back. your mouth opened to say something, anything. but it ended up staying hung open as moans were pounded out of you. hyuck grunted above you, “keep your back arched, girl.” he husked out, stilling his movements to grip your waist. the minute he stopped moving felt like torture and you were getting frustrated.

“i-i am, fuck!” you argued, and your body jolted when his hand came down onto your ass, stinging the flesh. “loose the attitude.” he threatened.

you winced when he continued to abuse your pussy, his skin slapping against yours and creating a never-ending cycle of skin slapping that filled your tiny apartment. he licked his lips, spreading your cheeks apart to watch himself disappear in you.

“so fucking tight. haven’t been fucking anyone else, hm?” hyuck interrogated, voice trembling as he picked up the pace. in all honesty, he hated when you fucked with other dudes that weren’t him. it had always irked him.

“o-only you, h..hyuck.” you whimpered. you couldn’t work up the courage to fuck anyone else. you wanted him and him only. “fuck me harder..”

he hummed at your words. it was so messy. so wet and sloppy. he wrapped his slender fingers around your neck, pulling you against his chest, strokes long and slow.

you couldn’t tell if your vision was turning black from how tight his hand was around your throat or from the intense pleasure. you couldn’t think anymore, mind fuzzy and blank, only thinking about him, him, and him.

“sooo good.. so good, don’t stop.” you choked out, and he shuttered inside of you, pushing you face-first into the cushions and delivering another hard slap onto your ass.

“yeah?” he moaned as he rutted into you, desperately chasing his own release. his tip pounded your cervix with each thrust and tears began to roll down your face.

“this is what you wanted right?” he rasped, stilling his hips again and pushing his cock in as far as it can go, “s’ all yours, pretty. this dick is all yours, fuck..”

the position is pushing you further and further to your orgasm, his hand pushing your head down as he slowly fucked your poor cunt. you were seeing fucking stars, something you only seen when he fucked you like this.

“s-so big.” you sobbed, reaching behind yourself to hold onto his wrist. you couldn’t stop the tears from spilling down your face. your brain stopped functioning and you were certain that he was, in fact, fucking you dumb.

“you wanna cum?” hyuck questioned, he moved his hands off of you, leaning back slightly, “then bounce that shit on me.”

and you complied, fucking yourself on his big cock, pushing your body back and forth onto him while he watched, loving how you desperately tried to get yourself off. he was all the way in your stomach, abusing that spot deep inside of you.

“fuckfuckfuck, m’ close..” you moaned. and without a word, hyuck tightened his hands around your waist, fucking into you as you came hard around him, squeezing him so fucking tight. your body tensed the convulsed, a thick white ring forming at the base of his cock.

“s-shit.” he stuttered, quickly pulling out of you and pulling the rubber off, pumping his cock until his cum spurted all over your ass and back.

he left and you felt the weight of the couch dip when he came back with paper towels, and he wiped the mess off of your back, and then helped you sit up. you hated this part. you were sore, felt nasty, and awkward.

“s’ nothing to be embarrassed about. we’ve been doing this for a while now..” hyuck chuckled, slipping his boxers back on.

“i’m not embarrassed it’s.. i’m still mad at you.” hyuck gave you a look and tsked at your words, “i give you what you wanted and you’re still whining?”

well.. he was right. but you had the right to be mad at him. ignoring you for weeks? really? “i meant it when i said that i don’t want you fucking her anymore.”

he pursed his lips, and sighed. “fine. then don’t be seeing other dudes.”

“fine.”

“fine.” he repeated.

now, you were kinda glad that you ignored his initial call.

this is horrible but irdc

#hottestvirginwrites #smut #kpop smut #nct dream hard thoughts #nct dream hard hours #haechan smut #haechan x reader #haechan hard hours #haechan hard thoughts #donghyuck smut #donghyuck x reader #donghyuck hard hours #donghyuck hard thoughts #nct hard thoughts #nct hard hours #nct smut #nct x reader

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vigilante-3073 · 4 months ago

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Harm

Edward Cullen x Female Reader (Platonic)

Summary: Y/N has always had issues with physical contact and Edward never understood why until an accidental touch brings up unpleasant memories for her.

TW: Mentions of sexual assault, death and molestation, angst.

*Contains mature themes that could be triggering*

Y/N had always had an issue when it came to physical contact, she would shift away like any kind of unexpected touch made her squeamish. Edward had never questioned it, simply assuming that it had been a matter of personal preference. Physical contact had never been a big factor in their friendship and Edward found it easy to respect her boundaries.

Most people were willing to accept her dislike of physical touch, but there would always be people who didn't understand or respect her wishes.

They were walking down the hallway talking about their biology assignment when Emmett ran up behind Y/N and grabbed her waist. She let out a panicked scream as memories began to race through her mind. The memories were so powerful that Edward couldn't keep himself from hearing them.

"Here, munchkin, I got you a toy, but you can only have it if you promise not to tell anyone about our little game," The man said to a 5-year-old Y/N.

The sound of a belt buckle clinking and a sudden unyielding feeling of fear overcame everything.

"Such a good little girl," The man said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear before leaving her bedroom.

The memories continued to fly by, each one more unpleasant than the last. It was years of torture, fear and abuse. Her emotions were overwhelming as the memories began to resurface, like a festering wound that never healed.

Emmett set her down on her feet and she immediately broke free of his hold, running down the hallway and into the girl's bathroom.

"The hell was that about?" Emmett asked.

Edward shook his head before quickly following after her. He pushed aside his discomfort and made his way into the women's restroom. Edward moved over to the stall where Y/N had fallen to her knees, coughing and retching as she threw up.

Edward held her hair back, providing silent comfort as she continued to get sick. The memories obviously weighed heavily enough on her to produce such a visceral response.

She finished getting sick before slowly shifting onto her butt, leaning back against the wall of the bathroom stall. Tears rolled down her cheeks as Edward reached past her and flushed the toilet. He stepped away and wet some paper towel for her before returning to her side.

He held out the paper towel to her and she took it silently, wiping her mouth. Edward watched her, listening to her erratic heartbeat as it began to return to normal.

"Who was it?" Edward asked, she gulped, "My uncle," Y/N admitted softly.

"How long?" Edward asked.

"Until I was twelve," She stated.

"Where is he now?" Edward questioned.

Y/N shrugged, "I don't know," She said, toying with the paper towel in her hands.

"Did you ever tell anyone?" Edward asked.

She shook her head, "No, I was-I was scared and I just- I felt like it was my fault," Y/N said shakily, more tears gathering in her eyes.

"You were a child," Edward said, kneeling down beside her.

Y/N scoffed, "I could have said something but I didn't... I thought that no one would believe me," Y/N said, wiping the tears from her cheeks.

"I'm sorry that you felt like you were alone in that, Y/N. No one should have to go through that," Edward said.

Touch had become an evil thing for her. That man, that family member, had taken her choice away and robbed her of her innocence. Y/N was just a child when he took advantage of her and it went on for years before she was able to escape him.

Y/N was abused and manipulated into thinking that no one would believe her. She endured years of pain and lived in a state of constant fear of this man who was supposed to be someone she could rely on.

He was family.

...

Edward took some time away from school after that day. He told Y/N that he was going to see his cousins, but he wasn't going to Alaska. Edward went to Y/N's hometown and found her uncle stumbling drunkenly out of a bar.

The stench of alcohol permeated the man's entire being as he staggered over to his truck. He fumbled for his keys in his pocket, dropping them down onto the pavement with a mumbled curse. The man bent down to pick them up and Edward had appeared in front of him when he straightened up.

"The hell do you want, kid?" The man asked.

"I'm a friend of Y/N's," Edward said.

"Oh, wow, I haven't seen her in years," The man chuckled.

"You mean that you haven't assaulted her in years?" Edward questioned, eerily calm.

The man scoffed, "Now, I don't know what she told you-," He started.

Edward didn't allow him to finish, grabbing onto his throat and slamming him back against the side of his vehicle. The metal caved in from the force, knocking the wind out of the man.

"I know all about what you did to her and you deserve to endure a lifetime of suffering for it," Edward growled, leaning closer to him and tightening his hold around the man's neck.

He sputtered, hands shoving desperately at Edward's chest to try and push him away.

Edward felt like an avenging angel in this moment, choking the life out of such a vile man. It brought him comfort to know that he would be removing a very evil person from the world.

Edward leaned in and bit into the side of the man's neck, shredding the arteries and spilling his blood in the parking lot brutally.

He pulled away, watching the life drain from the man's face, "You will never hurt her or anyone else ever again," Edward said before letting him go.

He watched the man's body slide down to the ground, gasping and gurgling on his own blood as he died. This man was a predator and he finally knew what it felt like to become the prey.

...

Edward returned to Forks a day later with red eyes, Carlisle knew what he had left to accomplish and chose not to acknowledge it. Even Carlisle had to allow him leniency in this case, violence was never the answer until it was the only answer available.

That man was sick and he deserved to suffer for what he had done to such a kind person, a child nonetheless. He could not be saved or changed and the world would be a better place without him in it.

Edward never told Y/N about what he had done that day, but he would never forget the day her mother had told her the news. They thought it was an animal attack, her mother called it 'gruesome' and 'awful.' She had said that the animal responsible hadn't been located, but assured Y/N that they were searching for it.

Edward watched the look of recognition cross Y/N's face before her glossy eyes slowly came to focus on him. She hung up the phone, dropping it down on her bed.

"What happened?" Edward asked.

"My uncle is dead... They said it was an animal attack," Y/N said.

"Seems to be happening a lot lately," Edward stated.

Y/N stepped over to him, sliding her arms around him and pressing herself against his chest. Edward slowly wrapped his arms around her, holding her gently.

"Thank you," She mumbled, a few warm tears soaking into his shirt.

"You're welcome," Edward said.

She let out a soft breath before her body began to shake with sobs. Y/N cried until she had nothing left in her, standing silently with her head on his chest and her arms wrapped tightly around him.

His shirt had been saturated with her tears and he could feel her beginning to shiver from the ice cold temperature of his body. Edward wanted to get her a blanket or a warm cup of tea, but he knew that she needed this. She needed to hold onto him and feel safe.

Edward had protected her more than anyone else had and Y/N finally allowed herself to enjoy the touch of another person. Y/N would never have to live in fear of that man again and maybe she would eventually be able to tell her family about what he did to her. And if she didn't, her secret would rot in the ground with her abuser.

#edward cullen x y/n #edward cullen x reader #edward cullen x oc #edward cullen #edward cullen imagine #twilight x y/n #twilight x reader #twilight imagine #twilight

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babyangelsky · 2 months ago

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My Favorite Love Scenes of 2024 💖✨

Welcome to Babyangelsky's 2024 Wrap Up! To commemorate my second year of watching QL dramas, and my first year of actually talking on my blog, I've compiled a series of lists to celebrate all the QL things I loved this year!

Please feel free to take my categories and make lists of your own and tag me in them if you do!

💜 All the lists can be found here! 💜

So this is my third time posting this list. It was flagged twice despite my labeling it and switching gifs around and my appeals to unflag it were denied. That isn't going to stop me from talking about the love scenes I loved, however, so rather than risk another flag, I'm simply going to link the posts I had originally chosen gifs from and tag their lovely creators.

I would love to include visual aids, but alas. Support our gifmakers, babes. They're out here fighting for their lives for us.

Now then! Some sex scenes exist to tell you something about a character, some exist to tell you something about a relationship, some exist to advance a narrative, and some exist simply for their own sake, but all of them have a place and a right to exist in queer media.

These are many of my favorites and they run the gamut, so strap in IT'S DEGENERATE HOURS!

♡ Mahasamut Solo Shower Scene (Love Sea)

The gif I chose was from this set by @babybison

The way Tongrak is looking at Mahasamut as he jacks off in the shower is exactly how I looked at him the entire show. This was such a delightful surprise, and not only because I was blessed with Fort's bare ass on my screen.

I love masturbation scenes and I've included all the ones we were given this year on this list. I love them because I love seeing desire and genuine horniness and pleasure depicted in dramas. It's human. It's real. It makes me happy.

Mahasamut doing something about the blue balls Tongrak gave him when he pumped the brakes to go write leads nicely into...

♡ Tongrak x Mahsamut Post-Shower Scene (Love Sea)

The gif I chose was from this set by @laurenkmyers

Love Sea episode 2, how you blessed us. You gave us that incredible shower makeout. You gave us Tongrak's little case filled with condoms and lube and toys. You gave us reverse cowgirl. Blessings upon blessings upon blessings.

♡ Yu x Ai First Time Scene (I Saw You in My Dream)

The gif I chose was from this set by @putterphubase

I'm gonna go ahead and quote myself from three months ago after I saw this scene, because Yu and Ai's first time is everything I love:

The horniness is mutual all around, everyone is checking in with each other before things get going, they're checking in with each other while things are going, consent is being asked for and given, boundaries are being respected, and the sex is giggly and joyful and loving.

♡ X x Namping Mirror Scene (Every You, Every Me)

The gif I chose was from this set by @pharawee

X feeling up Namping in front of the mirror may just be one of, if not the sexiest scene we got all year. It was so intimate. So perfectly erotic and sensual. I sincerely hope whoever put Top in that shirt gets whatever they want in this life.

Regrettably unable to be pictured for photo limit reasons: the absolutely beautiful expressions on their faces as they look at their reflections

♡ Shan x Ob-aun Blindfold Scene (Battle of the Writers)

The gif I chose was from this set by @alienwlw

You can fault this show for a lot of things and you would be absolutely right about all of them, but every single love scene was fantastic. The shot I was most anticipating from this particular one didn't make the final cut but this scene was still gorgeous.

Ob-aun baring his shoulders as he looks at Shan? Riding him like his life depends on it? The blindfold? Incredible. I loved it.

♡ Ming x Joe Face to Face Scene (My Stand-In)

The gif I chose was from this set by @jimmysea

This scene is significant not only because it's the first time that Ming and Joe are face to face, but because Ming stops Joe from rolling over to make sure that they are face to face. This isn't about needing a stand-in or a fantasy, this is about Ming needing and wanting Joe and only Joe, which is what makes it so good and so special.

♡ Yuan x Qian First Time Scene (Unknown)

The gif I chose was from this set by @wanderlust-in-my-soul

You don't even know what I dream of at night. You don't even know what I dream of at night. YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT I DREAM OF AT NIGHT.

*screams into my shirt*

♡ Wayu x Jao Hideout Scene (Two Worlds)

The gif I chose was from this set by @thisautistic

If there was ever a scene that made me yell "FUCKING FINALLY!" at my screen, it was this one, and it was worth every single minute that I had to wait to get it.

The camera work? Stunning. The rich warm lighting and the shadows? Gorgeous. The chemistry? Everything I dreamed of.

♡ Hiro Solo Shower Scene (Love is Better the Second Time Around)

The gif I chose was from this set by @musicdramalove

You know what I love about Hiro asking Takashi if he'd ever thought of him while he jacked off? The fact that asking that question implied that Hiro had done that himself. You know what I love even more?

That we got to see it happen.

♡ Korn x Tonkla Couch Scene (4 Minutes)

The gif I chose was from this set by @jimmysea

This scene, and really all the sex scenes in 4 Minutes, are the perfect example of sex being used by a narrative to tell you something about a character and a relationship.

It was more than a great scene and a welcome surprise of a pairing; we learned so much about the dynamic between Tonkla and Korn on this couch and who they were as individuals and to each other.

♡ Ken x Seiji x Pan Daydream Scene (Deep Night)

The gif I chose was from this set by @pharawee

Bless Khem for being the one to plant the seed of polyamory in Pan's brain because the moment Pan realized that that was an option, we got this amazing scene from the theatre of his mind. It cemented his attraction to Ken and opened the doors to eventual canon poly.

♡ Anin x Pin Punishment Scene (The Loyal Pin)

The gif I chose was from this set by @dragonsareawesome123

Has there ever been a more enjoyable punishment? Has anyone ever looked more beautiful than Pin did while she was punishing Anin? Is it any wonder that Anin was so excited at the prospect of it happening again?

♡ Achi x Ji "It's Art" Scene (To Be Continued)

The gif I chose was from this set by @pharawee

The tension. The intimacy and the careful exploration of someone you love when you realize that the exploration is an option and is desired. The way things just broke between them after they let themselves have this.

It really is art.

♡ Almond x Latte First Time Scene (Knock Knock Boys)

The gif I chose was from this set by @pharawee

Oh, but I loved everything about Almond and Latte's first time. I loved the awkwardness and the leg cramps and the struggle to find a comfortable position and the many, many false starts. There are a lot of love scenes in BL and on this list that are perfect and graceful and smooth but this one?

This is real and it's a mess, and it's so endearing and funny and I love it so much. Almond's strawberry boxers you will always be famous.

♡ Ozone x Pie Robe Scene (Battle of the Writers)

The gif I chose was from this set by @diaospuppy

It's Pie undoing Ozone's robe with his teeth for me. It's the expression on Pie's face while Ozone rides him. It's the fact that I had to wait an absolute age for these two to get together.

WHY WEREN'T OZONE AND PIE THE MAIN COUPLE? WHY COULDN'T I GET TEN MORE OF THESE SCENES?

♡ Takashi x Hiro "It Pisses Me Off" Scene (Love is Better the Second Time Around)

The gif I chose was from this set by @itagakimizuki

The sheen of sweat. The sheen of sweat and the way it catches the light on both of them has not left my mind since this aired. It may piss Hiro off that Takashi is as good in bed as Hiro thought and dreamed he might be but he's definitely glad he's finally getting to enjoy it. This is how you made a second chance count.

♡ Atom Sad Boy Hours Solo Scene (The Rebound)

The gif I chose was from this set by @pharawee

Poor Atom. He was a good boy and he liked Zen so much but it just wasn't in the cards for them and he knew it. All he could do was get himself off to photos and memories of Zen being kind to him and existing and look very pretty and sad while he did it.

♡ Tongrak x Mahasamut "Dessert" Scene (Love Sea)

The gif I chose was from this set by @crispywizardtale

I'm not the only one who immediately thought of Taemin's Guilty MV when they saw this, right? Because that MV and this scene have become inextricably linked in my mind. I can't think of one without thinking of the other and feeling so grateful that both exist.

Man, am I glad that they left that dinner early.

♡ Great x Tyme Great's Reimagined First Time Scene (4 Minutes)

The gif I chose was from this set by @spicyvampire

We did not yet realize the significance of this scene when we were gifted it. Great's 4 minutes softened the edges of his first time with Tyme and turned it into something gentle and intimate and loving when his actual first time with Tyme was the exact opposite.

It was a beautiful scene and going back to rewatch it with the knowledge that none of it was real adds such an undercurrent of sadness to it.

♡ Tai x Kram Cave Scene (Two Worlds)

The gif I chose was from this set by @laurenkmyers

The shift in Kram's eyes from artist to lover as he drew Tai nude lives in my mind rent free. It was so subtle and the scene it led to was so sensual and beautiful. One of MaxNat's best. Art as foreplay is something we deserve to see in dramas more often.

♡ Oab x Plawan "I Can Teach You" Scene (This Love Doesn't Have Long Beans)

The gif I chose was from this set by @thisautistic

Sailub and Pon know how to bring the heat. Any one of their scenes throughout this show could've been on this list but THIS SHOT FROM THIS KITCHEN SCENE WAS TOO FUCKING GOOD FOR ME TO PICK ANY OTHER.

♡ Almond New Toy Solo Scene (Knock Knock Boys)

The gif I chose was from this set by @pharawee

I love love LOVE how this show handled Almond's virginity. It wasn't his singular defining trait, it did not inform every single thing about his character, it was just a fact about him. AS IT SHOULD BE!

So to see him be allowed to be curious and proactive and excited about exploring sex and masturbation was an unparalleled delight. Unparalleled. One of my very favorite things to happen this year.

♡ Arashi x Rei First Time Scene (Love in the Air Koi)

The gif I chose was from this set by @divineandmajesticinone

I never had any doubts that the Japanese adaption of LITA would bring the heat but loooooord have mercy. That shot of Arashi's sweaty muscular back just about did me in. I thought I was prepared but I super was not.

♡ Anin x Pin Car Scene (The Loyal Pin)

The gif I chose was from this set by @boyslovegirlslove

There is simply not a force on this earth that can keep Anin away from Pin. I said it in my kiss post and I'm saying it again here.

Absolutely nothing could keep Anin from whisking Pin away to her car right under Kuea's nose and reminding her who she belonged to in front of god and everyone with only foggy rainy windows for cover.

♡ Huaien x Xiaobao Heartbeat Scene (Meet You at The Blossom)

The gif I chose was from this set by @guzhufuren

Was this shot of Huaien and Xiaobao's hands the prettiest shot of 2024? I think it just might be. Everything about this scene was pretty. The hands, Huaien's chest moles, the dreamy besotted expressions.

Xiaobao bit off so much more than he could chew with Huaien and I enjoyed watching every single minute of it.

♡ Fadel Mental Theater Solo Scene (The Heart Killers)

The gif I chose was from this set by @wanderlust-in-my-soul

Bless the theater of your mind, Fadel. Genuinely truly. He may tell himself that Style is annoying and that he just wants him to go away and he may even believe it, but here in the privacy of his bedroom he simply cannot deny his attraction. Instead he indulges it and lets himself fantasize and for that I am grateful.

♡ God x Diew Tent Scene (Monster Next Door)

The gif I chose was from this set by @thisautistic

It began with some quick research into the best way to have sex in a tent and then it hit us with the blinding light of love and served the exact same energy as the YuAi scene from earlier in this list. It was so perfectly sweet and soft. God did not do a thing until he made sure that Diew was ready and wanted to be intimate and took care of his boyfriend the whole way through.

♡ Jack x Joke First Time Scene (Jack & Joker)

The gif I chose was from this set by @thisautistic

A HORNY, HUNGRY EXPLOSION. THAT'S EXACTLY WHAT THIS SCENE WAS. These two wanted each other so fucking badly and they waited so damn long to finally give in to each other.

Forget grandma, people in Chiang Mai probably heard these two going at it for hours on end.

♡ Haruki x Jin Vacation Scene (Our Youth)

The gif I chose was from this set by @forcebook

Whoever lit this scene deserves to get whatever they want forever. All the light is on them and the bed and those shadows just keep shifting because even in this little circle of peace that they've allowed themselves, there are reminders of the darkness that's waiting in the wings.

But in that circle of light there are soft kisses and gentle, exploring hands and more desire than either of them know what to do with.

♡ Fadel x Style "I'll Be Your 100%" Scene (The Heart Killers)

The gif I chose was from this set by @thisautistic

A very, VERY late entry into this list but I simply couldn't not include it because Style was out here taking control and overwhelming this stoic broody man in absolutely the best way. They're both so gone for each other. SO gone. Style may be scared of Fadel but he's already in love with him and Fadel can think Style is as annoying as he likes but that annoying man makes him feel safe and loved.

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the-s1lly-corner · 10 months ago

Note

Hi!! this is my first time requesting anything but i was wondering if you could do creepypasta boys were you kiss / compliment there scars!

Kissing their scars (various crp)

Bro I scratched my skin right next to this burn last week and it HURTS so bad

Characters: Jeff the Killer, Ticci Toby, Eyeless Jack

Notes: Reader is GN, fluff, these boys need help

CWs: talks of violence in.. well all of them, mentioned of self harm in Jeff's part

Jeff

You decide to kiss the gashes in his cheeks, the ones that he carved.. he never really viewed them as anything very negative; sure it reminds him of the night he killed his entire gamily.. a fact he has a very wishy washy feeling of guilt over depending on the day

At first he thinks you're trying to kiss his cheeks but you make it very clear what you're trying to do when you begin to compliment them- they've healed so well since theyve been put there

Between the three he tries to play it off the most, of course it looks nice- they make him beautiful, and he always will be beautiful! What are you talking about reader?

Hes not at all willing to be vulnerable around you, it doesnt matter how long you two know each other or how close you get he never.. really let's himself just be in his feelings around others

But just know that hes going to be sitting in bed tonight looking up at the ceiling replaying what you've said and going back over the events that lead him here- rare moment of self reflection essentially

But to your face.. hes just the same as hes always been, even teasing you for having such a huuuge crush on him- bonus if the two of you are already dating

Eyeless Jack

You rarely ever get to see him without the mask, but when you do.. it's best not to do something like this the first time you see his eye sockets- hes very cagey about his face in the first place and hes not quiet ready to handle more attention drawn to it. The first few times it's off it's best to meet it with indifference

But when more time passes, you're more than welcome to test the waters. You already knew Jack had a fair collection of scars, but there was a different feel to the burned and gashed holes where his eyes would have been

He wont let you kiss him, mostly because hes unsure of what exactly the goo was made of, as well as naturally not liking the idea of someone putting their mouth where his eyes just to be- but you're allowed to trace your fingers along the scar tissue

Hes never going to tell you what happened unless theres a reason to, hes very firm when setting this boundary. It's just something that makes him feel.. gross..

He already doesn't talk much but he becomes silent as you trace your fingers and talk to him

He might go back to wearing his mask all the time again for a while but it's not exactly your fault, it was just a huge step- it's okay to back up a bit to process things

Ticci Toby

Due to his CIPA he has a bit of a disconnect between him and his injuries, scars included. He didnt really feel them when they were being made, sure he may have felt some pressure depending on what caused it but other than that, nothing really.. for a lot of them he doesnt have much thoughts- neither good nor bad

The only ones that really make him feel something are the ones he sustained from the crash- they're scattered across his body...

If you kissed or complimented any other scar he would tease you for being a little "weird", even making it a game to guess where he got the current scar from- with outlandish answers of course

But the second you reach one of /those/ scars the fun is immediately cut, you can tell theres something off

Similar to Jack, its something that has to be eased into due to the weight associated with the injuries. It's not the fact that it hurt when he got them but they serve as a reminder of what he lost

The only one who really tries to change the subject, perhaps by asking if you have any scars or markings on your body or simply changing the subject all together

Probably the only one who wouldn't want to be complimented due to the nature of some of his scars

#creepypasta x reader #creepypasta x you #creepypasta imagine #jeff the killer x reader #jeff the killer imagine #jeff the killer x you #eyeless jack x you #eyeless jack x reader #eyeless jack imagine #ticci toby x reader #ticci toby x you #ticci toby imagine

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cherryredstars · 1 year ago

Note

Hey Cherry🖤

could I get some sfw + nsfw hc's of Miguel with a curvy F!Reader??

please and thank you 💋

if body descriptions and gender aren't something you're comfortable adding then it's totally cool.

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x Curvy!Fem!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Body Descriptions, Body Image/Insecurity, Labeled NSFW, 18+,

Summary: Miguel with a curvy girlfriend!

A/N: You can have anything you want, lovely anon! (Be warned I am not curvy so!! Not talking from experienced guys!!)

Word Count: 1.4K (Edited)

SFW

First and foremost, this man is setting a boundary with you. He always wants to make you feel confident with your body, and he doesn’t want to be the reason you aren’t. Is there any part of your body that you don’t want me to make comments about? How can I make you feel better when you don’t feel good about yourself? Are there certain ways you don’t want me to touch you? What type of compliments do you want to hear? What’s the difference between a compliment and an insult to you? He’s bombarding you with questions and writing down notes so he knows the best way to love you. Nothing is too much when he loves you. He just wants to make his pretty girlfriend the confident and happy woman she deserves to be.

Okay, tone shift: This man SMACKS your ass when he walks by. I don’t mean a small little tap. I mean this man is revving his arm up and when he finally makes contact, the sound is so unbelievably loud that it scares the both of you. And Miguel just laughs about it!! Like, he’s giggling and running away, looking over his shoulder with the biggest smile as you chase after him threatening to hit him with something. It’s like a little game for him and he just loves the way it bounces when he does it, so don’t expect it to stop anytime soon.

He likes to bite the folds on your tummy or just anywhere you have them. If he’s lying in bed with you or on the couch, he simply lifts up your shirt and just sucks them into his mouth. If you get ‘mad’ at him and ask him what he’s doing, he just looks up at you with the fakest innocent eyes and just shrugs. If you keep staring at him and tell him to stop, he’ll very slowly let go of your skin like a dog who was told to let go of something. He’ll be pouting the rest of the day right after you tell him to stop.

He’s constantly watching you. If he’s on a call or mid-conversation with someone and you walk by, he loses his train of thought and his eyes just follow you. He’s drinking in everything he can. He’s staring at the way your curves move as you walk, the way your clothes look on your body, just everything and anything. You have to hide your giggle by biting your lip when you spot him wipe his mouth. Miguel’s always paranoid that he’s actually drooling when he sees you.

He hates when you experience chafing just as much as you do. But he’s always there to help you with the healing process. If it’s between your thighs, he’s telling you to lay in bed or on the couch all day so it doesn’t get more irritated or get worse. He’s running around the house, getting you everything you need and doing your day to day tasks for you. His pretty girl always gets the princess treatment! Every few hours, he’ll make sure to rub in your ointments and jellies over the affected skin, pressing a small kiss right next to it.

If you experience back pain or sore boobs, he’ll always be available for massages. And it’s not even in a sexual way. He’ll tell you to lay down and he’ll massage any sore spots on your body, rubbing in your favorite lotion and kissing the skin until it feels better. He’s holding up and kneading your boobs for you when they get too heavy as you walk around the house. He’s always cooing in your ear how bad he feels that you don’t feel good and he’s asking you if there is anything more he can do for you. He’ll even suggest you take a break and he’ll finish up whatever it is you were doing.

No one, and I mean NO ONE, makes comments about you out in public. Not since you’ve started dating Miguel. Whenever you’re out in public, Miguel stares down anyone who walks towards you and starts opening their mouth. If the group of white old ladies start whispering while pointing at you while you’re looking through racks of clothing, he’s telling you he needs to go to the bathroom before walking over to the group of ladies who instantly disappear with widened eyes. When you raise your brow and ask him why he’s back so quickly, he just shrugs and replies, “It’s out of order. And you know I can’t stay away from my gorgeous girl.” He knows he can’t protect you from every rude remark someone makes about your body, be he sure as hell will try.

He knows the struggles in finding correctly fitting clothes. I mean, he’s 6’9 after all! So, it’s not a surprise when he comes home with a little box for you when you found something you really wanted, but they didn’t have it in your size or it didn’t fit correctly. It’s always an almost exact replica of what you wanted. Whenever you ask him where he got it, he tells you he got it custom made or he made it himself. I mean, if this man can make his own technologically advanced spider-suit, why wouldn’t he use those skills to make sure his girlfriend is dressed however she wants?

Miguel hates it when you think you can’t do something because of your body type. Whenever you say you want to do or try something and then say, “But I can’t because..” and motion towards your body, frustration builds in his chest. Not at you, never at you, but at everyone that ever told you your body type means you can’t try certain things. He’s always encouraging you to try it and he’s more than happy to do it with you to make you more comfortable.

NSFW

If you’re having one of those days were you hate your body, Miguel is holding your face still as he fucks you in front of a mirror. He’s pounding your pretty little pussy, making you watch every second of it. He’s leaning forward, whispering how pretty your body looks recoiling and taking him. “Such a pretty fucking girl, taking my cock so well. You think anyone else would be able to take me so well? Got the perfect fucking body for me, hermosa.”

Whenever he’s having sex with you, he marvels at how your boobs overflow in his mouth and how your ass spills from his large hands. His mouth is always gravitating towards your nipples and his hands constantly squeeze and slap your ass.

He likes having you on top of him. He loves watching you ride his cock, holding your ass in his hands as your boobs bounce every time you move. He’s completely mesmerized, moaning and grunting under you as he grabs your body.

Your body is always littered with hickeys and bite marks. Especially on the areas you feel insecure about. Each bruise and mark represents an affirmation Miguel made towards your body, hoping you’d love your body as much as he does.

Miguel is completely fine with fucking your thighs or tits. He loves the way they completely surround his cock. He’s growling out how fucking hot it is and he’s staining your skin with his cum in minutes.

He wants you to suffocate him. He’s pleading for you to sit on his face. He 100% has gotten on his knees asking for you to. And he doesn’t mean any of that hovering bullshit. If you even attempt that, he’s growling and pulling you completely onto his face. He’s happily lapping up your sweet juices from your tight cunt, the most lust filled eyes staring up at you in ecstasy. He’s a desperate, moaning mess whenever you ride his face, one of his hands leaving your waist to jerk himself off at the sight of you. When you finally cum and get off of him, he has a wide, dazed smile on his face as he tries to catch his breath.

Whenever that man masturbates, he’s pumping his cock to images of your body. Plays scenarios in his head with your body on full display for him, begging him to make you feel good. He’s moaning and cursing at the pretty little stretchmarks that cover your skin, wishing he could lick them. He wishes his hands were holding onto your body and not on his cock. He’s mumbling your name and moaning about how perfect your body is. When he explodes, he sits there panting and letting out an annoyed groan. Now he misses his pretty girl :(

I hope these are okay and I didn’t say anything that was offensive or uncomfortable for all my lovely, curvy girlies!!!

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thesilmarillionblog · 4 months ago

Text

𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄 ── Part 4

Click here to read the first part.

Summary: In the hopes that things would improve between you, you choose to lose your virginity to your friend Dean Winchester because you have been in love with him madly for a long time. However, he doesn't feel the same about you.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F!Reader

Warnings: +18! (Minors DNI), SMUT! Halloween Party, sensitive topics, discussions, unprotected sex, jealousy, sexual tension, heavy angst, insecure and confused reader, angst, painful

Word Count: 11.1K

A/N: English is not my first language.

🎃🕸️── Halloween Special Part ──🕸️🎃 Song: 'Honeythief' by Halou.

“Can we talk properly?” Upon hearing that you wished to return home, Dean implied he regretted what he said earlier. What is done was done though.

You cut him off abruptly, saying, “I really don't want to,” and indicated the need to stop talking to Dean about the depth of your friendship with Robb. What he asked wasn’t appropriate and though he knew it, he had asked a second time with a more rude manner. “I am really exhausted. A lot.”

To change your opinion, Dean replied, “Sam invited you,” as if telling you that Sam's suggestion was any better. Your wish to return home was overwhelming.

This time, you spoke out with a firm tone. “Really, Dean,” avoiding his gaze with a turn to face the road. “The next day I'll be working too. I should definitely get some sleep. It was a very busy day. I can’t feel my legs.”

“Alright.”

Dean shut his mouth, not wanting to annoy you any longer, and considered the bond you have with Robb. Dean wondered if the son of a bitch had already made a move on you since he was quite sure he was up to something. He found it disturbing that he would have to work together with you at the hospital in the days to come.

Sighing, he took a quick glance at you and seeing that you were staring at the road while lost in thoughts. It was only a simple question; maybe he shouldn't have asked it that way, but he did not like the thought of getting on your nerves. Maybe you were simply too exhausted for a brief discussion. He didn't mean to hurt your feelings. But he felt bizarrely pleased that you and that man hadn't shared any intimate past. He wasn't your type anyway. Too tall and too skinny for your taste. Dean was sure of that.

You knew you arrived when Dean pulled over. He should have been aware of the boundaries; it wasn't that you wanted to part ways with him that way and watch him leave. You hated seeing him leave. Your mind and heart yearned for intimacy.

Dean responded, “I'll pick you up tomorrow morning,” just as you were about to get out.

“Alright, good night. Tell Sammy that I'm sorry and also worn out.”

Even if you didn't get the finest sleep of your life, at least Dean showed your home sooner than you anticipated and brought coffee. You kindly turned down his offer to have breakfast together because you would be late for work. In reality, it was primarily due to his strangely impolite behavior recently. You made every effort to remain normal and behave as though nothing had occurred between you and him. But even though you tried your best and talked to him very normally, he had been acting like a jerk, as though it was your fault all along.

That's why you made the decision to set a few boundaries despite what your heart felt. If not, Dean would end up hurting you much more. Love was an awful type of disease.

“Will you be coming tonight?” Dean asked as you turned to face him and opened the door.

You just stated, “I don't want to.” Although your anger had subsided from yesterday, you still felt uncomfortable and needed some alone time.

“Why not?” Dean softly inquired, clearly taken aback by your answer. After all, you never used to reject him for anything.

Fuck, you didn't even say no when he approached you for your first quick sexual experience. When Dean spoke, you had to learn to say no. For real. Otherwise, you had no idea what to do, even if he dragged your head between his legs right away. Your face turned red. You felt pathetic.

“Robb and I will be having our dinner tonight. Outaide. We haven't spent much time together lately,” you stated while looking at your watch. You still had some more time.

Dean's hands tightened around the steering wheel. There was no doubt that Robert would be a pain in the ass. Deal was becoming increasingly irritated by knowing that you would be spending the entire night with him; in fact, it was making him want to break Robert's face.

“I'll make dinner. You are welcome to bring Robb, your buddy,” Dean said. Before he could stop himself, he spoke. After all, he was never particularly good at thinking twice. “He's new here after all, and he can get to know his friend's friends by himself.”

Although Dean's offer seemed sweet and generous, you still raised an eyebrow and were ready to say no. You asked naively, “Really?”

“Yeah.” Dean smiled a bit at you, seeing that you were already thinking about accepting his offer. That wasn't too difficult, he guessed. “Making new friends and having dinner together would be awesome.”

When you eventually said, “Okay,” you looked at your watch and said, “But I have to ask Robb first, then I'll give you a call. I have to go right now.”

Dean picked up your bag and handed it to you when he noticed you had forgotten it. “Okay. After you speak with him, give me a call. Take care.”

Because you were restless and kept yawning, you continued receiving warnings; thus, the rest of the day didn't go as smoothly as you had planned. You could get some relaxation at the end of the week which was two days late. It was Halloween Week after all. You had no plans though. Remembering that you had spent it in your own house doing nothing, your heart clenched with sorrow.

You didn't have enough time to chat with Robert because the emergency was so busy. In the meantime, he was consumed with his own work. When lunchtime rolled around, you managed to get his attention and told him that Dean offered an invitation for dinner. You awaited Robert's rejection. In fact, you would feel better if you avoided seeing Dean for a day at the very least. You needed some time alone for yourself. God, what made you say "yes" in the first place?

Robb, much to your surprise, accepted the offer with enthusiasm and stated that you all should spend time all together. He had also wanted to know who your pals were. If he found out that you and the Winchester brothers were ghost hunters, you wondered what kind of reaction he would have. He would suggest that you see a doctor. You'd die because of embarrassment.

You were going to tell him that you knew Dean from when he helped you a year or so ago and was skilled at fixing cars. That would be enough as an explanation. Of course, you had to warn Dean first. Your face reddened as you thought back to when he had mentioned how good you were about using your hands. God knew what exactly he meant. He was an asshole. Sometimes.

Sam shot Dean a strange glance when he placed everything he bought from the grocery store.

“What are these for?”

Dean revealed, “We have a special guest for dinner tonight.”

The fact that he had asked your friend to come to the dinner made him uncomfortable. He was an absolute stranger. Still, it was preferable to letting you and him share a night together. He believed that you two were growing more and more apart every day, and you two had too much to talk about. It seemed like Robert would be an obstable.

The more time you spend with Robert, the more boundaries you build between you and him. That wasn't right. You were, after all, a long-time member of the family. A year of hunting wasn't an exaggeration.

“Who?” Sam inquired, puzzled by Dean's peculiar behavior.

“Y/N and her friend, Robb.”

“Is she in a relationship already? I can't believe she would act that quickly.” Sam laughed out loud, enjoying the memory of his conversation with you. He was unaware that you would meet a man so quickly. Would that make him a friend or a good manipulator? As long as the result was beneficial for you, Sam was okay with both.

Dean nearly threw the tomato at Sam's big head, but he restrained himself.

“She's not in a relationship,” Dean stated calmly. “And what you mean you didn't think she would act so fast?”

Sam grinned triumphantly, assuming from his previous words of encouragement that you were already in a relationship. After all, you needed a break from your job and the anxiety it caused. You have the right to pursue your own pleasure.

“Remember the night that she spent here the day before? We had been watching TV, and I asked Y/N whether she was seeing someone. Jo and you were enjoying your little fun. Remember now? You know, we are spending time together and going hunting, but for gods sake, I've never seen her with anyone,” Sam remarked, trying to think back on every minute of your conversation.

As Dean chopped the tomatoes, he frowned, remembering the terrible night he had spent with Jo. He was still tormenting himself over the time he liked fucking her while he thought of your body throughout that moment. When he thought back on these times, Dean felt uneasy. He didn't know what had overcome him to do something that shouldn't have been done in the first place.

“And?” Dean remarked, pushing Sam to continue. Regarding the other subjects Sam had brought up, he remained silent.

“And I asked her whether she's into someone already or if she simply doesn't let people into her life. To be honest, I still don't know the answer, but I told her to see someone at least,” Sam said, beaming with pride at having offered you some helpful guidance. “I mean, she's been lonely for a long time, and her job is already too stressful,” he added. Actually, he wasn't all that excellent at managing his own life, but he was wonderful at offering advice and listening.

Dean felt a bit better when he heard that Sam hadn't seen you with anybody before, but he wasn't pleased about Sam's attempts to give you dumb advice that seemed totally useless. “She's not alone. She is one of us. And why would you fill her troubled head with such stupid ideas? Her work requires a lot of effort and energy already,” Dean said, annoyed with his brother's jerky behavior.

You were handling too many things at once; therefore, it was helpful to avoid relationships and to quit doing meaningless things like dating. It was too much for you to handle. Dean was aware of how demanding and time-consuming nursing was. In short, relationships took a lot of time. Right now, you were too vulnerable and too soft to handle a man.

Bewildered by Dean's comments, Sam tried to defend himself. “What even are you saying, Dean? She won't be living alone for very long. Her entire family is gone. She is, of course, one of us, but it's very reasonable that she would desire to start her own family as a form of escape. She is not a child to protect; she is an adult.”

Dean scowled at Sam and rolled his eyes. It seems as though his brother would never stop bombarding you with his rubbish thoughts. Dean was sure that you would listen to his brother's idiotic words and, worse, that you would take them seriously because you were too naive.

“You had to be kidding me. Why on earth are you giving her such crap ideas? She shouldn't spend her little spare time with a man for just that reason. Dealing with a man's shit is more difficult than her job, which is already tough enough. Ask your partner. She will probably whine about how annoying you are occasionally. I'm sure she has much to tell.”

“Takes one to know one, huh?” Having no idea about Dean's behavior, Sam raised an eyebrow. His brother was behaving strangely these days, for sure. Particularly about you. One of Dean's specialties was being overly protective and acting oddly tough. “Have you met her friend yet?”

“Yeah.”

“And? Is he working in the same hospital with her or?” Sam asked curiously.

Dean answered, “Yes, he's a doctor.” To observe how he was treating you while at work, perhaps he should get himself a fake identity and pretend to be a doctor for a day. Dean wondered if Robert treated you well.

“They would make a great couple, huh? A nurse and a doctor. Sounds lovely enough and a bit...kinky.”

Lovely my ass.

“Why don't you help me, my lovely brother, instead of just sitting on your ass there uttering bullshit? She is your friend too,” Dean bitterly said, “I can't do the entire work by myself.” It seemed as though Sam had made it his mission to irritate Dean today. He wasn't sure if Sam was doing it on purpose. His brother was always a hopeless romantic bitch, but he never knew the ideal partner for himself and neither for you.

“Will you invite Jo?” Sam inquired, uninterested about Dean's plea for assistance. He was not even fond of kitchen stuff. It was something he never liked.

“Fuck, no. Not that we are in a relationship. We're not seeing each other anymore.”

“Friends with benefits then?” Sam seemed to find the concept disgusting. How someone could fuck another every day without feeling anything at all was beyond his comprehension. Perhaps that was the reason for your prolonged single status. But for Dean, if he was in the mood for fuck, it didn't matter if he felt anything as long as the person had a pussy.

“Fine. Good.” Sighing, Sam noticed Dean's sharp gaze as he cut the tomatoes, as if he wanted to throw the knife at him.

When you saw Robert outside after he had to wait an hour for your shift to end, you felt awkward and apologized for something that wasn't your fault. He was polite and understanding enough to accept Dean's invitation, and he also waited for you in his car.

Following you, he drove his own car to Dean's house. You tried to calm Dean down over the phone after your small argument so that he wouldn't treat you like a child and rebuke just because you were talking on the phone while driving. He was the one to call you. In an attempt to avoid ruining the night, you made an effort to settle down beforehand.

It was annoying that when you told Dean what to tell Robb about how you met him and Sam since he didn't sound pleased. It was a story about Dean helping you with your car a year ago. It wouldn't be a lie; he was skilled at repairing after all. You couldn't tell if he liked Robb. It was insignificant, though. He should treat your friends with the same politeness that you showed him, along with his hookups and everyone else, even Jo. If not, you would have to really set a few boundaries.

You were clueless about how to make an impression on him during the last several days, or even if you could win him over at all. Almost everything made him angry.

Soon after Robb and you parked, you nervously knocked on the door. He was standing next to you, and you prayed he hadn't noticed your nervousness. It was soothing that he always had an infectious smile on his face. It was nice to see someone at ease and easygoing.

You briefly forgot how to breathe as Dean opened the door. You could smell his fresh fragrance from a distance, as if you were some animal. You couldn't tell if he had recently taken a shower or had simply changed his clothing. You blinked as your eyes met, and you forced yourself to look away from the tight, dark blue t-shirt that was revealing his enormous arms. You both awkwardly stood there, staring at one another without moving. You smelled like sweat and tiredness, most probably.

All of your fury at him vanished the instant you laid eyes on him, took in his piercing look, and smelled his clean scent. When your heart was beating wildly the moment you laid eyes on him, how were you going to set boundaries? Was there any chance for it?

Sam grinned broadly and said, “Hey,” reaching out to give you a hug as Robb walked in.

Sam gave you a tight embrace and said, “Welcome home,” as Dean and Robb exchanged strange looks.

Dean was staring at him as though he hadn't even invited him in the first place.

When Sam eventually quit holding you, Robet and Sam shook hands, and Dean tried to embrace you too, grabbing you by your belly, but you just murmured, “Hi, Dean,” smiling shyly, stroked his arm briefly, and hurried inside as you literally escaped from the hug though your heart craved for touching.

You didn't think you could resist melting in his arms and forgetting all he said if he gave you a hug right then. You weren't the god's strongest soldier. Plus, you were positive you smelled awful.

Dean's fingers burnt as soon as he touched you to pull to himself to give you a hug. He tried to make things normal and wanted you to comfortable with him just like you were comfortable with Sam. However, watching you escape from his hug with a simple greeting and a light touch, Dean's body tensed. He was consumed by your timid and icy behaviour as if you hadn't talked him about how you wanted things to be normal.

It didn't calm him up to see you being touchy with Robb and Sam. Moreover, Dean was already becoming irritated. It was a bad idea to invite a complete stranger. God. He should have considered his words wisely before speaking.

You sat at the table and looked around to see whether Jo was present, but she was nowhere to be seen. When you gave Dean a questioning glance, he said nothing. He assumed you were exhausting. You moved so slowly and heavily that it was simple to understand.

Robb interrupted, “Everything looks delicious,” while Dean continued to give you serious eye contact. “Thanks for having me.”

Dean smirked widely and continued, “Don't mention it.” You exhaled a sigh of relief. "So how was your day?"

While you were fiddling with your food, Dean continued to eat, and you began to eat as well, though you weren't sure if you were truly hungry or not. You just felt a little anxious. Trying to unwind a little while, you watched Sam enjoy his food and listened to Dean and Robb. You hoped that your earlier action of trying to run away from Dean's touch hadn't offended him in any way.

Robert responded shyly, “It was exhausting enough. But there weren't any deaths today, fortunately, which is not very common nowadays.”

“I bet. It's undeniable that these are crazy times,” Dean said while his mouth was full. Dear God. “But in emergencies, I'm sure things are much more crazier. There's no denying that the staff there deserve far more respect. Especially nurses.”

You nervously smiled and said, “Thanks, Dean,” acknowledging his sincere admiration for the work you were doing. “Robb is also quite deserving of respect. It's not easy to save someone's life and to see someone else lose their life at your hands. To be honest, I deal with broken bones and bandages on people's cut bodies mostly.”

“Well, I'm grateful. When it comes to medical problems and saving lives, there is no such thing as a little or huge job.” Robert sipped on his wine and stated, “I assure you, honey, you're very good at your job. That's sufficient.”

Dean rolled his eyes, carried on with his dinner, and gave Sam a quick glance. Rather than eating in solitude and messaging his girlfriend, his brother should have supported him in interrogating the doctor. In an attempt to get to know your friend, Dean felt as though he was battling alone.

“Would you also save the life of a terrorist? or that of a rapist?” Dean inquired abruptly, and you gave him a stern look to let him know he was pushing things a little too far.

When he invited you and Robert for dinner, you expected him to act nice and fix the complicated situation with you. However, he was determined to make you annoyed with his unpredictable behaviour. If only you could find a time to be alone with him right now, you could ask him to behave. You hoped he got the message when you frowned at his face.

Sam stated calmly, “Of course he is supposed to save people's lives no matter what,” and Dean briefly closed his eyes while smiling angrily. Even if his brother interrupted in this way, how in the world was he to question the morality of this dumb? He was doomed. Sam should have shut up instead of standing up for a stranger over Dean's face.

“I would and that’s what I’m doing,” Robb said in a tone as cold as was to be expected. “Even if some of these people are terrible and don't deserve to live, I made a vow to save their lives, not take them. Although I must admit that I don't enjoy it sometimes, I still do my best to help them. It is not my responsibility to judge them, put them in jail, or have them put to execution.”

You felt the air getting heavier, so you timidly put your hand on Robb's shoulder and patted him to express your sympathy and help him feel calmer. “And that's the right thing to do even if it doesn't feel right,” you mumbled. It was the kind of thing you had to answer every day, so you hoped Robb wouldn't take offense at Dean's question and that he wouldn't take it personally.

“I don't think I would do it though,” Dean stated, fiddling with his meal at the moment. It was ridiculous to watch how he toyed with his fork now.

With a broad smile, Robb said, “That's why I'm the doctor here and you are not,” seemingly trying to enrage Dean. As he thought he was being challenged as well, he didn't back down. They attempted to turn the talk into an ego battle, so you just rolled your eyes.

Aware of Dean's short temper, you gave Robb a hint by kicking him under the table. You then apologized and asked Dean for more wine.

“Dean had also questioned me with the same questions, which I'm sure were purely out of curiosity. After all, we all receive quite similar questions every day,” you remarked softly, hoping Dean wouldn't respond negatively this time and exacerbate the situation.

“Obviously. It is all curiosity. Don't take it personal.”

His remorse overcame him at seeing your timid and anxious appearance. It wasn't as though he invited your buddy and you to hurt feelings and spoil your evening again. It felt like a challenge, though, the way Robert called you nicknames while grinning slyly at Dean. If that guy stopped acting like he was more attractive, Dean might try to be more respectful. That guy was an asshole, though. He simply knew that being around you must make Robb feel more intelligent.

He had such a punchable face, especially when he smiled.

“How did you meet?” At last, Robb asked. If nothing else, you hoped he would help you ease the situation and stop getting on Dean's nerves.

You didn't trust Dean and cut him off as soon as he opened his lips. “He helped me with my car. It was a dreadful, rainy day that included a small accident. As you are aware, Dean is excellent at fixing cars,” you made and attempt to praise him. It was true. “And I am not very good at driving in the rain as you know. In fact, he's the best.” He gave you a hand with your vehicle on many different occasions. Those were beautiful, memorable times.

“His and Sam's girlfriends are also good friends of mine.” Now that was a complete lie. However, you didn't want Robb to make any comments about romance when they were seated at the table. You were not very good at hiding your feelings, and Robert had an innate ability for reading people.

But Dean was blind.

“That's right,” Dean remarked with a cold whisper, “I'm very good at fixing things and breaking things.” He gave you a stern look.

Sam smiled and nodded nervously, for it was true that you and Ruby were close enough. You had the impression that everything was going well for him. But Dean instantly entwined, saying, “Jo and I weren't a thing.” When he used the past tense, you scowled, and he saw the look of perplexity on your face. You stopped asking questions after that. He would soon find another partner. You were surprised he dated with her that long.

You asked Robert, “Do you have any plans for Halloween?” to change the topic.

You were wondering whether Robb had any plans for Halloween because you had never spent the holiday with Sam and Dean before. He loved cosplaying and was always coming up with the funniest and most original outfits compared to other people. To him, it was much like a hobby. You were better than him at thinking of the worst possible ideas, but it was still an enjoyable activity.

“Yes, without a doubt.” Robb swallowed the piece and took a drink of wine. “My costume is ready,” he declared with excitement. “By the way, I met an old friend of mine yesterday, and he informed me that he would be throwing a party this week. God, he told me some strange things.”

“Like what?” Sam cut him off. He sounded both interested and suspicious.

“I'm going to tell you what he told me, and I really hope you guys don't laugh at me. In any case, he told me that his house is definitely haunted. Not that I buy this garbage, but in the previous three years, there have been three murders that have all occurred in the same room during Halloween.”

Your eyes met Dean's, and Robert laughed shamefacedly, as if he were having trouble believing what he was saying since he has never believed in the supernatural events. Dean's excitement-filled eyes and altered posture suggested that he was missing hunting. You two hadn't spent any time together in a while.

“It may be a serial killing,” Sam guessed. “Who has been arrested for the murders? Any witnesses or suspects?”

“That's the unusual part,” Robb stated. “Neither witnesses nor suspects are there. If a killer exists, there was not a single piece of evidence that may lead the police to them. All guests over the past three years have been thoroughly investigated, but not a single person has been identified as a suspect. Given the killings, my buddy Jordan purchased the house a year ago for a rather low price. Although they haven't had any events in a while, it appears that the owners have made the decision to get rid of it.”

Before you could say a thing, Dean inquired, “How did those people die? Has your friend provided you with any details?”

“Yeah, it is sick. Every year, the victims had been discovered in the same room, nude on the bed. There's a high chance they were killed while having sex. Perhaps it's a one-person job, but for heaven's sake, I can't say a damn thing until I analyze the victims' bodies and determine just how they were killed. He informed me that a woman had been killed in the same room years before. I suppose this is the reason why people believe the house is certainly haunted. I don’t know man.”

“And your friend wants to organize a Halloween party in the same house?” Dean asked, surprised. He was still shocked that people were so keen on doing all the wrong things.

“Indeed,” Robb replied. “But we're not going to use that room. He'll exercise caution with this. All he wants to do this week is plan an awesome Halloween party. If it's okay with you, I'd want to invite the rest of you as well. No pressure.”

“We'll be there, of course,” Dean said immediately. He was thrilled that Sam and he got the invitation.

You give Dean a nod as he looks at you to see whether you're comfortable with it. This mysterious situation, including ghosts, might strengthen your relationship with Dean and help you two become as you once were. You were desperate for it, and the thought of acting like someone else excited you. It had been a long time.

It was pleasant enough for the rest of the evening. Dean stopped being hostile toward Robert and didn't say anything to make you feel uncomfortable. While Robb and Sam were deep in conversation, he continued to stare at you. You were full, yet you continued to fiddle with your meal as you frequently glanced at Dean. That being said, you didn't know why he was staring at you weirdly. You couldn't help but imagine your fingertips lingering over his pointed jaw as you saw how wonderful he looked in his tight t-shirt and freshly shaven face. Your cheeks were hot from the strange ideas that were running through your mind.

You wished that you had also changed into new clothing. Damn. You smelled like a hospital; that much was certain. No one liked the hospital smell. Dean has often told you how much he despised that smell. Just like he made you feel exciting, you desperately wanted him to feel the same about yourself. However, one thing he didn't enjoy was the scent of your hospital.

Dean stared at you with anticipation, just after Robert had told Sam and Dean that he had to go and thanked them for their hospitality. You got the message. Undoubtedly, you had to bring up that Halloween party Robb brought up. There were things that had to be discussed beforehand.

“I guess I'll stay here for the night,” you said to Robb. “I'm too tired to move right now.”

He thanked Dean again, didn't ask any questions, shook hands with both of them, and departed the home, leaving you and the Winchester Brothers by alone. Before he went away, you gestured that you would give him a call soon.

You took a big breath once the door closed, satisfied that the dinner had gone well enough. At that point, you needed to sleep and recharge since your feet and back were starting to hurt. To get rid of your overwhelming scent, though, you had to take a quick shower first.

Sam said, “I will not be coming to the party with you guys,” before you could say anything. “I wish I could. But I promised Ruby that I would be hanging out with her and her pals that day. I cannot change the plans now.”

"It's okay." It surprised you both when Dean smiled at him and said, “You don't have to change your plans.” Sam joining him on hunting was something he was usually quite obsessed with, but this time he didn't even argue with him.

“Really?” inquired Sam. He shared your shock.

“Yes. I'm certain Y/N and I can handle this crap. It will be simple. You shouldn't disappoint your girlfriend.”

You looked at Dean's face, and you arched an eyebrow. He appeared quite serious. Sam gave him a skeptical glance. He was about to leave the room after saying good night to both of you and realizing that Dean was truly being thoughtful and kind, but you stopped him.

“Could you please give me one of your t-shirts, Sam?” You asked shyly as you assisted Dean in clearing the table, “I think I need to take a shower.” You didn't want to wait to take a shower for another minute because you were afraid Dean would smell your sweat and the hospital fragrance while he was that close.

Dean said, “I could give you—” but Sam intervened.

“Sure. I’ll put it on your bed. Alright?”

“Thanks, Sam,” you said, casting him a friendly glance.

You reasoned that asking Dean for anything to wear would be strange given what had transpired between you and him. Whether or not he broke up with Jo didn't matter. You had to establish some limits if you both wished to keep your friendship healthy. You had, after all, stepped over a pretty fragile line. It could be harmless to wear his t-shirt, but there was no reason to get your hopes up and think delusional things. You were normal before you had sex, even though you occasionally wore his clothing. So much had changed by now.

Even though Dean told you to sit down and rest after Sam left the room, you persisted in helping him clean the table. Robb occasionally attempted to get under Dean's nerves, and Dean responded with the same ferocity, but he unexpectedly played well. He didn't usually say pleasant things of people he didn't like, but he even cooked for him and did his best.

He broke the silence as soon as he noticed you carrying the last glass and handing it to him, shortly after he began to slowly wash the dishes. You were fascinated with his physique and thick wrists, yet you attempted to divert your attention to something else before he could see you staring at his body.

His abrupt question, “So, are you satisfied?” made you tense up in shame.

You naively said, “What?” not realizing what he was getting at.

When Dean turned to face you and saw your confusion, he had to force himself not to chuckle. “The dinner. I think I did well there, huh?”

You ignored the dirty thoughts that were running through your head, focusing solely on the conversation as you picked up on the arrogance in his tone. You suppressed your nervousness as you wondered whether he was intentionally attempting to make you feel shy.

“Yes. Dean, it was wonderful. Thanks for inviting Robb. I'm glad we had such an enjoyable time together,” you said genuine, smiling a little at him.

Instead of looking him in the eye as you hurriedly watched him wash the dishes, you continued to see his rough hands soaked in water. Your mind was contemplating things you'd be embarrassed to admit, even though you were trying to focus on the talk. You bit your lips out of tension and eventually turned away from him, folding your arms over your chest when he curled his fingers around a glass. As quickly as you could, you had to wash your dirty mind of filthy ideas.

“Yeah?” he murmured, surprised by the praise, which didn't appear to have enough impression. “You didn't care to give the generous hug there, though.”

Without intending to offend, Dean had to bring it up. He kept his mind occupied during the dinner with the way you left him feeling as though you were far more distant than before. He couldn't keep wondering why you were acting the way you were, even if it wasn't really that important.

Surprised by the way of the embrace you ran from he mentioned, you opened your mouth to say something, but nothing came out. The cause of it was not something that could be easily explained, almost as if discussing it was forbidden. To clear your head and avoid saying anything absurd, you took a deep breath.

“I just smelled bad. I didn't want to bother you with it,” you eventually said. Although you weren't being quite honest with him, it was accurate enough.

“What smell?” With a perplexed tone, Dean inquired about as he quickly wiped dry his hands with a towel.

You tried to say it an amused way to cover your shyness, “Sweat and hospital smell, you know,” but you were embarrassed to admit it. “You always say it makes you throw up.”

The way he complained about the hospital and its stench didn't bother you months ago when you first met him, and he brought it up immediately, but by the time you fell in love with him, you could see how much he hated it and the way he portrayed it. When your shift finished and he was around, you tried your best to be cautious and avoid physical contact. However, you arrived at the house without having had time to change into new clothing or take a shower this evening. It was one of your insecurities.

Not that you held him responsible for it. After all, everyone disliked things for various reasons. You didn't take it personally.

“What? I-” Dean questioned in a hushed voice, as if that were the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard. While he remembered the things he had said to you while you were close to him immediately following the end of your shift, his heart felt heavy. He didn't mean to offend you. Never.

He moved in your direction, holding the towel in one hand. You could not have merely run away from him this time since your legs did not receive any signals from your brain on how to move as he drew closer. “It's just... I didn't mean to hurt you. I would never.”

He stopped in front of you, and you felt caged, your back touching the kitchen sink. To meet his gaze, you had to raise your head. Your hands, not knowing where to rest, began to linger on the surface of the kitchen sink, where Dean had placed the towel. You knew you would touch him if you could only get your hands to move a bit. A little gasp was visible between your hands. But you could never have the guts to approach him in that way. Your hands paused there so as not to make the wrong action.

Dean smelled you now, but he didn't take a deep breath so as not to disturb you. You did smell like a hospital, but it was in a nice, fresh way. It was just sweet somehow. He didn't care whether you smelled blood and sweat. Your hair had become messy due to your job, and your overall scent made you appear...nicer. Perhaps in order to make a wise decision, he needed to have gotten a bit closer.

Stating that “I didn't say this to bother you.” To soften the air, you gave him a kind smile. “Do you want to talk about that Halloween party?” You asked to change the subject in order to break the distance a little between you and Dean; otherwise, your heart could burst because of anxiety and excitement anytime.

Dean didn't say anything as he saw you feeling uncomfortable, but his face fell. “I suppose we should first decide what to wear,” he commented, folding his arms over his broad chest.

“I have an idea for what to wear already.”

This time, you were unable to help but smile genuinely. Even if you lacked creativity, at least you had a sense of humor. That was also remarkable.

“Oh, yeah?” Curious about what you were up to, Dean chuckled. “What's your idea?”

“You'll see,” and you chuckled along with him. He was happy to see your former attitude returning. This was something he had missed.

You kept talking to Dean about what to do as Halloween Week drew nearer so you wouldn't make a mistake and ruin everything. It would place you both in a very difficult situation. For your sake as much as his own, Dean took great care to hunt down ghosts and to look after his car.

As you adjusted your costume and red lingerie, you took one final glance at yourself in the mirror. It had enough fake blood on it. While you and Dean attempted to find the ghost, you prayed that you wouldn't fall on your ass wearing the red high heels. Of course, if there was one at all. You also had to be careful when moving in the outfit because it was barely covering your legs. You were unsure whether your choice of a seductive, bleeding nurse costume was a mistake.

You knew Dean had come when he called. As you got into the front seat, your heart was racing crazily. He muttered something behind his mask, but you were too busy fighting to keep your costume from baring off too much of your flesh to understand it.

“What are you wearing?” you said, perplexed as you peered at his black cloak and mask. It was almost invisible in the darkness.

“I am Batman,” he responded in a rather aggressive manner, his hands motionless on the driving wheel as he continued to study your lace and revealing clothing. “It is expected of us to pretend like someone else. It's the concept. How are you even expected to move in this, by the way?”

Arms crossed across your chest, and you felt like you had to defend yourself. “I am pretending that I'm a sexy killer nurse, Dean.”

Sighing, Dean stopped from mentioning that you'd move more easily in a Catwoman outfit. He only said, trying not to look at your naked legs and lingerie, “Alright, sexy killer nurse. Let's go.”

Upon arriving in the house, you couldn't help but gawk at the people enjoying themselves by the pool and around the house; they were drinking, dancing, and sharing kisses everywhere they were. You could only see Dean's long cloak and mask, which covered half of his face, in the dim lighting. Whether it was anxiousness or anything else, he was biting his lips invitingly.

You said, “So,” as you glanced around the house and the entire people. Because of the loud music, it was difficult to hear your own speaking. “What are we going to do now?”

Nobody welcomed Dean or you when you entered the home. Everyone seemed to be going about their business as usual. Turning your face away, you watched other people taking cracks. Oh god.

The mood was gloomy, and the music was loud. You saw that the majority of people had frightening symbols painted on their faces. Even though ghost hunting was plainly meant to be more frightening, watching people continue to use drugs and drink made you feel nervous. The majority of their costumes were gorgeous, though, and you selected a few as your favorites. The ones you loved most were the ones with Princess Leia, the Shrek and Fiona pair, the Tree costume, the Hamburger one, Gimli, and Legolas costumes. They were exceptionally good.

Dean said, “Come with me,” gesturing for you to follow him upstairs. “We need to find that room.”

“This house is quite big though.” You took his cape in your hands and helped him move more easily. “There must be a lot of room,” you said.

As you climbed upstairs, the number of people in the corridor decreased, and Dean appeared to be looking for something. Even though you had no acknowledgment of what he was doing, you continued to follow him. You said nothing about how his cape made him appear a little funny.

Dean went past the rooms and opened each door one by one. Fortunately, though, there weren't many. “What are you doing?” you eventually said, not completely comprehending his reasons for doing so.

Dean explained, “We need to lock the door or do something else to prevent those teens from trying something funny.”

Those people trying to fuck each other in the same room where someone was murdered wouldn't be unexpected. As soon as Dean opened the doors, every person in the room complained, and he instantly apologized not to make a scene. While some of them were becoming drunk, others were acting in ways that instantly made you look away.

When one of the doors Dean attempted to get open was locked, you exchanged meaningful glances. “This room has to be it,” Dean stated with confidence.

“All right,” he said, reaching into his pockets to get a tool to unlock the door. “A little bit of coverage would work fine.”

As Dean began working on the door, you turned to face the hallway. When he eventually unlocked it, you hurried to get into the room with him before he slammed the door behind you and turned on the lights. You gave Dean an inquiring look when he locked it again.

“To avoid being disturbed,” clarified Dean, clearing his throat.

As you realized the music wasn't playing too loudly in the room, you breathed deeply. There were too many things to dwell on, making it difficult to concentrate on anything.

When you realized that you and Dean were now in an awkward situation, you just touched the room's furnishings randomly to soften the mood. While attempting to avoid staring at your body and touching any objects in the room, Dean cleared his throat nerveously.

With a silent prayer that he wouldn't break anything significant, you said, “What are we going to do now?” You could feel the tenseness and need between your legs as you remembered Rob's words.

Robb informed you that every single one of the people mentioned died during coupling. It had to have a backstory, but for now it was insignificant. While you placed your hands on the shelf, you awaited Dean's reaction, which came when he removed his mask and placed it in his pants pocket. In his Batman outfit, he looked extraordinarily good. The silence grew, and your heart began to beat.

You finally had the guts to stand beside him so as to avoid adding to the awkward matter. You both turned to face the bed and said, “Do you think we can... fake it until we make it? I mean until the ghost appears?” He was clearly uncomfortable as well.

He reluctantly answered, "I guess that's what we are going to do," which hurt your feelings. It wasn't like you had planned to risk everything to that extent in search of a ghost. Even if you thought you were exposed a bit, you avoided saying anything that might have made things worse.

With a shaky voice, you said, “What should I do?” as your heels began to hurt.

With a grunt, Dean clenched his jaw and glared at the bed. You had no idea if he felt powerless due to the situation or whether it was because he would need to set boundaries with you after this once again. After all, he had been making an effort to maintain your friendship strong and ongoing. If you were less in love with him, you may agree to let him do it with someone else if it would make him feel better, even though you didn't have the strength to do it.

Disappointed, all you could do was sit on the bed and wait for Dean to come to help you so that, when you'd dealt with the ghost, you could either go back home or join the party.

You gasped in surprise as Dean finally moved and pushed you further on the bed while holding you by the hips. You raised your head to see his eyes. Your hands went straight to his shoulders for assistance. Dean slid his body between your legs, but he was extremely cautious not to put his weight on you. You let him take control. But your legs were spread wide apart due to how you were dressed, and you could feel the chill causing your thighs to shiver with cold. He could see your underwear and your lower body if he looked at them.

In your first time, there was no electricity in the room, so you couldn't even see each other properly. However, now that there was light, you could see each other so clearly that your heart was racing. You could spend as much time as you pleased studying each line and spot on his face. He appeared much more handsome.

The room suddenly felt cold while Dean waited on top of you, staring at you as well. It was difficult not to give him a clear sign by not glancing at his lips. It was impossible to resist the temptation to moisten your dry lips.

You broke the stillness with a whisper, “Do you think the ghost will appear?” Waiting there with nothing to do but stare at each other felt uneasy.

Dean only said, “I don't know,” while eyeing your lips. “I guess we have to act a little to trigger it.”

“It's okay,” you said, quickly nodding to him. You were instantly ashamed by how eager you sounded. Hope that he didn't cringe.

As you waited underneath him, almost half nude, Dean appeared rather serious and used both of his hands to steady himself. You prayed your heartbeat was not audible to him. You were going to melt beneath his body and go completely insane.

You gasped in anticipation as Dean's head began to draw closer to yours before you could ask him another question. You fought the urge to shut your eyes. That would have made it obvious what you needed, but you carried on to focus on his green eyes. He paused and put one hand on your legs as he felt his hot breath on your skin. His fingers gently made their way under your clothing and contacted the skin beneath them. Your hips were pleading with you to lift them and give the signal, but you pressed your lips shut to avoid making an excited sound. Dean was not placing himself between your legs; he was supporting his body with his hands, but you needed to feel his weight on you again.

His cloak touched your legs as your hands moved to each side of his belly, wrapping your body. You could taste his lips if you moved slightly since there wasn't much space between your lips. You kept your lips shut and tried to concentrate on your surroundings to feel if the ghost was around. There was nothing. Even if it wasn't helping the ghost, you were definitely wasted from the start. You pleaded with the ghost deep within not to show up and ruin your night until Dean took care of you. It was only one innocent prayer.

It was uncertain to you if Dean was having as much fun as you were. He appeared dead serious.

You hardly made any motion when Dean's lips touched yours, causing you to stay still beneath him. You hesitantly opened your mouth since your lips felt dry. You had to moisten them, but there was nothing you could do. It seemed as though your brain had given up working. You were waiting for Dean to take action, not realizing that you had already closed your eyes and were uninterested in the ghost or anybody else. You inhaled deeply as your heart raced with excitement, and when his lips brushed yours, your hands gripped his back even more firmly. Instead of moistening them in an attempt to torture you, Dean was simply rubbing your lips. He seemed to be testing your patience while waiting for you to take the lead.

Without thinking twice, you lifted your head and put your lips to Dean's, parting them wildly when they were too dry.

Once your lips were parted, Dean captured them wildly with his burning lips by delicately sucking the upper lip between his, giving soft bites. He bit your lower lip the same way again. With the same intensity, he followed your lead as you grabbed his upper lip and sucked like you were starving. On his lips, it was evident that your red lipstick was ruined. It appeared as though Dean was trying to get rid of the red color on your lips by sucking and biting them.

You let out a low moan as he finally put his tongue in your mouth with such force. His tongue was slowly but firmly invading your mouth, like if he meant to ruin you under him. Your hands, unable to think clearly any more, released his back and found his neck to draw him in closer than before.

Raising your hips of expressing to Dean that you were feeling desperate for anything to calm you down as you let him take control of the situation. Dean's touches were all that you needed. You hadn't touched him since the night you spent together. Your heart clenched with pain and desires.

Your moans were silent, and Dean's torment lingered on your lips. There were wet sounds all across the room, as if your tongues were striving for supremacy over one another. Your cheeks turned red as you focused on the obscene noises that your mouth made.

You were aware that the more he touched you, the more your emotions would consume you, and that you were never going to be able to get a response from him. But you tried to concentrate on the here and now, blocking off the past and future. To feel Dean a little bit longer was all that was necessary.

Dean got the message, and with a single move, his tongue was more dominant in your mouth the moment he pressed his hardness between your legs, finally making you feel him. His fingers were pulling your underwear rather aggressively now. It seemed as though you two lost control.

Although Dean knew he should have stopped and gathered himself, he wasn't finding it any easier when he sensed you were unintentionally attempting to find the pleasure. He was going wild by your tiny nursing dress and scarlet underwear. His body was yelling for him to have the much-needed relief. Ever since he fucked Jo that terrible night, he'd craved this. His body was wildly yearning for yours. It was hard for Dean to pull away. It didn't matter at that time why they had joined the party or why they were going to kill the ghost. It was difficult to stop his body from reacting to you while he was touching you in this way and seeing how ready you were to surrender to him.

Dean drew back, his tongue finding your neck and taking delicate bites that left your lips burning. You had to moan aloud this time as he sucked the delicate spot on your neck. When Dean suddenly pressed himself on you, you both moaned and felt your pussy throbbing.

He bit and sucked the most sensitive parts of your neck before glancing at your burning lips. He was harder than ever because your lipstick had been ruined and you were still holding out hope for him to continue.

Dean carefully put his fingers into your underwear while studying your response. All you did was gaze at him needily and passionately, yet he would stop at any moment if he sensed any hesitation on your part. There was no hesitation in your eyes, though. That was plenty to push Dean over the edge.

You both let out a gasp when he pushed his fingers into your panties. Just by kissing, you were shamefully wrecked, but you hoped it wasn't wrong.

“Dean,” you murmured quietly. He was too blind to notice your love for him, but your voice was nervous and full of love that you couldn't or wouldn't put into words. You wanted him to be nearer. You needed to know that he truly noticed you.

Without uttering a word, he kept rubbing you through your wet underwear while staring straight into your eyes and driving you insane. Placing your hands on his back, you recklessly widened your legs to give him a little extra space. You needed to give him more of what was left of you to feel him more. You would never, ever turn him down. He had to know that.

Dean inhaled deeply and then, unable to contain his throbbing cock any longer, slipped your moist panties aside to check your level of wetness, exposing you while he moved your body slightly to take up a better position. After having fucked you for the first time, he was in desperate need of that. His thoughts wanted you, and until he fucked Jo, he had no idea how wonderful it truly felt. Denying his surroundings and the place you were, Dean began to unzip himself with aggressive motions. Indeed, nothing matters. That was something you both needed. Right now.

He lowered your underwear just enough to expose your pussy, just enough to make your heart fall apart. Your body was shaking from excitement, nervousness, and cold. You waited for Dean to release his hardened cock while placing your unsteady hands on his broad shoulders. You inhaled deeply and made an effort to reduce your stress. You kept your eyes on him the entire time. Considering that he didn't use his fingers this time, you assumed it would happen quickly. Perhaps it was because you got used to his size.

With a swift motion, Dean lowered his pants to allow him to properly move on top of you and free his cock. He gave himself two or three strong strokes and moved your body somewhat further on the bed. He was getting ready himself as you were trying to regain your breath and admiring his attractive features. You would provide him with anything he needed or desired from you.

It didn't matter why you had come to this house or what your purpose was. Just the you and him. He saw you already becoming lost in the moment without closing his eyes. There was no need for words.

After giving you one more glance, Dean gently put his lips to yours, but this time he didn't kiss you. You gasped at the sensation of the cock's head on your entrance. Although you were no longer a virgin, your body felt stiffened. After all, you had only had sex once in your life. You have no prior knowledge of what to do or exactly what is expected.

When you tightened up even more, Dean scowled and sighed. He could see you had become soaked and practically pouring there, and your body was pleading with him to get in, but you were refusing to allow him. He pulled back his cock's head, and then he slightly pushed harder once again. You nailed his shoulders in a panic. He immediately pulled back upon noticing your distressed expression.

“Come on, you're wet enough,” Dean pressed his lips to yours. “Relax a little. Let me in.”

Your eyes got teary a little, but you weren't sure if it was from fear of disappointing him or of doing poorly. This seemed a little more distant than the first time, for some reason. You felt vulnerable. Sighing, you pressed your head into his neck to keep your face hidden and concentrated on calming down the way Dean asked. Your hands were shaking on his back.

He praised you, “Good girl,” and carefully pushed his cock inside your pussy once more. You were overcome with emotions, even though his movements were considerate and gentle to put you at ease. Dean kept praising you and said, “You're doing so good,” when he noticed that you were beginning to loosen up and let him in. “Almost there. Just a little bit more.”

“How come you're so tight?” When he finally managed to push himself fully inside of you, Dean asked with a groan and a tinge of disbelief and confusion in his tone. He pulled back, then gave it a single shove to get his cock within. You put your lips to his neck and pressed in your moans.

Dean waited inside for a while after he completely pushed his cock to allow you some time to catch your breath. Dean was certain he wouldn't last long because of how tightly you were clenching around him. He inhaled deeply and buried his head on your neck to avoid coming too soon. He had to make sure you got what you needed.

“You okay?” When you eventually start to calm down, Dean asked softly. He held back, even though he was going crazy to move already.

You silently nodded "yes," waiting for him to continue.

Your body was hot and yearning for pleasure, but unlike the previous time, you were unable to stop sorrow from taking over your heart and making you feel nearly awful. You didn't understand what was wrong with you. Dean was all you needed, and he was right here, inside of you, kissing you the way you wanted. You were touching each other like you had always wanted. But you had a feeling that it wasn't what you had hoped for or expected.

Dean took a moment to draw back slightly before pushing again, just to make sure you were ready. Instead of closing his eyes, he made every effort to focus on his surroundings and the sounds that surrounded him. He wanted to see your lovely and flushed face the entire time and watch your desire, but he had to keep his eyes on the surroundings and not lose himself watching you since there was a strong chance that he might be stopped at any moment by a ghost. As much as possible, he had to maintain his composure and act responsibly.

You heard Dean moan in a low voice as he began to move on top of you, as if he wanted to maintain his composure and not get carried away with what was happening. You were facing his neck as he shifted on top of you, so you gently pushed your lips there as he pounded his hard cock inside of you.

Your bodies created loud noises, and Dean's hands waited on your cheeks as if he were doing his hardest to please you. His cloak concealed your bodies as your legs were wrapped around his back. You were clenching around him constantly and getting wetter by the second, but you were not able to experience the intimacy you so much craved. With desperation and affection, your shaky hands found his jaw and caressed him. Eventually, you worked up the strength to try to bring his face toward you so you could kiss him.

Dean resisted your touch, gently pushing your hands away as he accelerated his pace inside of you.

Your mind raced with ideas as sadness shattered your mind and soul; you let go hands away with shame, with a heavy heart. You stopped kissing his neck since you didn't know where to place your hands anymore and waited beneath him so that he could at least enjoy himself. You were unsure about what to do. If he led you, it would be better. He began to groan as his rhythm intensified, but you forced yourself not to touch him. Your soul was wrecked by rejection.

Even though your body enjoyed being with him and the image of his enjoying himself on your body thrilled you, you were unable to stop those awful thoughts from racing through your head. It seemed as though your soul was being torn apart. This seemed less intimate than the first time. Your eyes uncontrollably started to well up with tears as your heart began to hurt so much. Being in Dean's arms and caressing him was something you had craved, but every time you felt like you were slipping further away.

You got consumed in your own thoughts and found it difficult to get the bravery to look into Dean's face. You wanted him to feel good. You needed him to enjoy you and what you were doing.

You found yourself sobbing aloud, just when Dean's motions inside of you became sloppy and his hands tightened around yours.

Dean froze on you the instant he heard your sobbing and cautiously pulled off his cock. Dean muttered, “Fuck!” upon seeing your face. His tone and the way he was staring at you made it clear that he was terrified and concerned.

You wept, trying to draw him back with trembling hands, but he resisted. “I'm sorry,” you said. You were embarrassed to let your vulnerability ruin the long-awaited situation.

“Hey, calm down,” Dean mumbled as he hastily tucked himself in his pants to take good care of you and figure out what was happening.

Even if you stated, “I'm alright. I swear, Dean,” he just regretfully fixed your clothes and underwear carefully. He shouldn't have let things get out of hand. He was unable to remember if he hurt you by moving too quickly or too roughly. His heart was heavy with regret at seeing your teary cheeks and hurt face. He had messed up badly this time.

You felt like a spoilt child getting help from him. Your legs were shaking from anxiety and cold, and you simply felt horrible. You couldn't contain your emotions and kept crying longer since he didn't even finish, and you made him feel bad rather than satisfying him. You weren't sure if you were actually ill or just lovesick. You just ruined a chance to spend good time with Dean, something you can no longer afford.

You sobbed more because you knew he would probably not touch you again.

He said in agony, “You're trembling,” and helped you sit on the bed.

Not even your bed, nor his.

Just as you were going to persuade him, you felt so bad that you had no energy left to utter any more lies. You were sick.

Dean waited silently, contemplating the events that had transpired five minutes ago and unsure of how to respond to handle it. He was as confused about what was happening. It was possible that Dean was being harsh with you, even if he didn't think so. He glared and sighed with regret at the thought of perhaps physically harming you. All he knew was that something was wrong. He didn't speak or touch you to avoid making you feel worse.

He was lost in thought and simply waited alongside you. Then someone knocked the door.

Next Chapter

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A/N: That was a looong-ass chapter huhh.. I thought about rewriting many times, but here we are. Please, let me know what you think about this one. Comments and reblogs are very appreciated! Remember writers have a praise kink, haha. ^^

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