#now that I got it off my chest I will only hope for the next episode to pick up the whole mess

[aerynwrites]

Sacrifices

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader x John "Soap" MacTavish

A/N: sorry for posting a day late. Been busy with holiday things, work and school. Hope you enjoy! and if you do please consider leaving a comment or reblog! even if you just scream into the tags i really really do love reading your all's thoughts - incoherent or not haha. Word Count: 3k Warnings: Canon typical Violence, (attempted) self sacrifice, mentions of grenade based injuries, description of gore/injury, angst, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, soft/fluff towards the end. Summary: The team is on a mission and quickly becoming overwhelmed. In the middle of a push through enemy lines, reader is the only one who notices the grenade that was thrown. She acts to save the men she loves.

The firefight has been constant it seems like, your entire group pinned down between sandbags and barricades and royally pissed off Russian soldiers. infiltration has been slow - almost nonexistent, your group moving forward only a few feet at a time, rushing from one barely there cover to the next. 

Your comms erupt with staticky calls of enemy movement before abruptly clicking off as gunfire takes its place.  Shouts from Price and Ghost trying to get air support and medical and god knows what else, just anything to help you all.

The mission has gone to shit. Gone from infiltrate and extract to a fight for your lives.

“Sunny, you with me?” 

Gaz’s voice fills your ears, your callsign pulling you from your own mind as you move to click the button to respond. 

“Repeat.”

“I see an opening,” Gaz says again, and you look over at him from where he sits several feet away from you, behind a concrete barrier matching your own. 

He gestures with his hands towards some cover a few yards up, and after a quick glance and no small calculations of your own, you think it might work.  Ghost and Soap are already there, having made the move ages ago but leaving you and Gaz unable to join them.  

If you can all get together, you might stand a chance at rushing the remaining enemies, pushing your way into the base and…

You nod.

“I’ll cover you,” Gaz says, “Then you three will cover me.”

“Got it,” you say, voice buzzing in your own ears. “As good a plan as any, at this rate.”

An all to familiar rough baritone fills your ears, and you have to fight back the smile twitching at your lips. 

“If ya quit your yapping,” Ghost says, voice firm, “You’d both be ‘ere by now.”

“On my mark…” Gaz says.

And then he’s calling out, a storm of bullets raining down as you sprint towards your team mates. the noise is deafening yet despite it all, it’s like you can hear everything. 

The beat of your heart in your chest. Thump, thump. Thump, thump.

The blood rushing in your ears, the sounds of your rubber soled boots hitting the cracked concrete. 

Thump, thump

The rush of air in and out of your lungs.

Thump, thump.

The all too familiar gentle jingle of a grenade pin. 

Thump, thump,

Two more breaths. Too long, you think. 

Thump, thump.

The sound of metal clattering against concrete. 

Thump. Thump.

No one’s seen it, the rattle of gunfire too loud, their focus too drawn in by the enemy. 

Thump, Thump.

It’s close to Soap and Ghost, just behind them - too close-

“Grenade!”

Your voice is barely audible over the chaos, the sound that your heartbeat was drowning out crashing over you all at once as you throw the entirety of your body weight forward. Soap had heard you just as your fingers dig their way under the straps of his tac vest, shoving him forward and down, right on top of your startled lieutenant who sees what you’re doing much to late to change the course of events. 

“Sunny, no-!”

Soap collides with Ghost - bodies toppling onto crumbling concrete, unable to keep their feet underneath them as you fall on top of them. You wrap your arms around Soap as the grenade explodes, tucking your head into the crook of his neck as you try your damndest to shield him and Ghost from it. 

It happens fast - faster than you’d ever imagined something like this happening - faster than your sprint over here. There’s a flash of light, burning heat, shouts cut off by a deafening blast as searing pain shoot through you.

Metal on your tongue.

More gunfire. 

You think your comms are going off but your head feels like its spitting open, ears ringing and you feel like your burning and freezing all at once. Teeth chattering and adding to that blasted ringing in your ears-

“-get out of there now!”

That you hear, along with the warnings of in coming air support. 

Instinctively you go to move, but pain blinds you, ripping a scream from your throat as pain shoots from your side up to your arm and down to your very toes. 

Soap is above you then, eyes panicked as he looks from you down your body then back up at Ghost.

“Lt! What the bleedin’ hell are we doin’!” He yells, fighting to be heard over the gunfire. 

You take this moment to look around, chest heaving as you struggle to breath, mind desperately searching for context. 

Ghost is up again, gun pointed over the concrete barrier as he continues to lay cover fire. You’re vaguely aware of Gaz just behind you, yelling into his comms about a man down and needing medical immediately and ‘we have to move!’

Your eyes then fall down to assess yourself, only to feel complete and utter fear pin you to the ground beneath you. Your side - the little exposed below your tac vest, your hip and your leg-

You have to look away to fight the vomit fighting its way up your throat. It’s a bloody mess - literally.nSoaps hands are covered in the viscous liquid as he put pressure on the gaping wounds, trying to stem the blood pouring from your leg.  You think you saw bone-

Black seeps in at the corners of your vision and you are only kept from the creeping darkness by a warm hand on your face as Soap’s own appears above you, and - why is it wet?

“Hey! Hey lass, none of tha’ now-” he gently taps your cheek. “Now why did you go ‘an do something right stupid like that?” He asks, trying to force that teasing lilt into his words but failing as the panic overrides it. 

Your mind is turning to mush, tongue heavy in your mouth as that coldness from earlier starts to slowly creep forward, starting at your fingers and moving ever upwards. 

“Do…do what?” You ask, fighting against chattering teeth.

Ghost turns then, speaking between breaks of gunfire as the telltale sounds of jets appear in the distance. 

“Use yourself as a fucking human shield is what!” He bellows, and even in your delirious state you can see the wrath in his eyes as he shoulders his gun once again, pointing at Soap. “Get her up, we have to move now!  Or whatever heroic bloody deed she was trying to commit will be for nothing-”

Gaz speaks now, glancing from you to Ghost.

“Lt. I don’t think she’ll-”

Ghost lunges forward then, gripping Gaz’s vest in his hands so tight you’re worried. 

“Don’t finish that sentence, Garrick,” Ghost bites. “No man left behind. Ever. Now move!”

Soap barely has time to mutter an apology before he tying something around your leg and yanking you up from the ground. 

The pain is all consuming. You think you scream but can feel it being cut off as something wet comes up on a cough. That all too familiar metal taste flooding your tongue.

It hits you then, with the taste of blood in your mouth and the tunnel vision closing in..

You’re dying. 

The world shudders around you as Soap runs full speed with your team, trying in vain to keep you as steady as possible as Ghost and Gaz lay cover fire for your retreat. 

Your head lolls backward, knocking against Johnny’s arm with every step, and you just manage to see the vapor trails of fighter jets above you, the white wispy clouds left behind giving you an odd sense of comfort in this moment. 

Johnny looks down at you as the earth shakes beneath his boots and he barely even stumbles. 

He always was the most agile of you all, Ghost the strongest - both of them protective. Even now you can feel Johnny’s arms tighten around you, can hear Ghost’s commanding shouts- although you can’t make out what he says. 

You’re too far gone for that.

Your fingers grip weakly at the various pockets and straps of Johnny’s tac vest as he starts to slow to a stop. You’re in the forest now, the towering tops of the trees creating a vast circle in your ever narrowing vision. A clearing? 

Wow...the sky is pretty too. A very faint pinkish hue dusting the sky behind the fluffy clouds. It must be approaching evening, the sun moving to sink below the horizon…

Night time…sleep sounds really good right about now. You’ve been fighting it -  the pain being your main focus, but now it’s all you want to do. Even the pain is starting to fade-

“No, no - “ another tap to your cheek and your eyes flutter open weakly. 

Johnny’s face is above you again, and you realize he’s kneeled down on the ground again, your legs outstretched in front of you as Gaz works quickly to try and do something about your injuries. 

Ghost is there too, and he’s no longer shouting, just breathing hard into his mask as he gazes down at you - that earlier anger replaced by…is that worry? Concern…fear?

“I must…” you trail off,breathing a herculean task. “I must be pretty…pretty bad if you’re scared, Simon.”

Ghost flinches at the use of his real name. It was an unspoken rule to never use it in the field. Never use it outside of you and him and Johnny together. Never use it unless if was just you three or in more intimate moments. 

Yeah. Simon is fucking terrified. Feels like his heart is about to plummet into the dirt. Feels like his whole world is crumbling down around him-

“Why did you do that?” He finally asks, voice losing its rough edge as he reaches up to wipe at something on your cheek. Probably blood. “Why?”

You smile then. Despite everything, you smile. 

“Couldn’t…” another wheezing breath in, “Couldn’t let them get…my boys.”

Soap breaks then, a broken sound ripping from his chest as he reaches up with his free hand to grip onto one of your own, bringing it up to press chapped lips to bloodied knuckles. 

You can’t feel the tears when they fall onto your skin, but you see the tracks they leave in the crimson stains. Follow them as they slide from the valley of your fingers over the back of your hand before disappearing beneath the sleeves of your uniform. 

“Don’t cry,” you whisper, before choking on another cough. 

The wind picks up now, and you can see the tree branches quiver violently. 

“Evac’s here!” Gaz calls, and you can see the hope that sparks in their eyes as the blades of the helicopter come into view. 

Soap looks down again, another kiss to you knuckles before he’s moving taking you into his arms as he stands. 

It doesn’t hurt at all this time. 

“They’re ‘ere, bonnie,” he says, voice cracking. “Gonna fix you right up-”

You don’t hear the rest.

The thrum of helicopter blades drown him out and then, just as you see a team of medics jump from the interior, darkness finally consumes you. 

At least they’re safe.

It was all worth it. Just for that.

———

Waking up is like trying to wade through knee deep snow. It takes all of your energy, and every moment feels like an eternity with little to no progress. But you keep pushing, snippets of voices and small sounds urging you forward. 

Two voices in particular. Familiar. Warm. Scared. 

“I never thought I’d be the one by your bedside.” Ghost. “A bloody idiot you are. But our idiot, so don’t,” is he crying? “Don’t you fucking die on me.”

You hear Johnny next, it’s the only other voice your brain seems to register in this thick fog of unconsciousness. Along with the feather light brush of fingers in your own.

“Still cannae believe ya did it,” you can’t find it in you to be sorry. “Please, wake up lass…please.”

You eventually do - Wake up that is. 

And what a bloody nightmare it is. Blinding lights, the deafening beeping of a monitor in your ear, people shouting but only two of them are familiar, fighting to stay in the chaotic room as Doctors rush about an shine lights in your eyes and ask you all kinds of questions and then-

It’s over. 

It’s over and you have a flimsy plastic cup of water being shoved into your hands and fingers carding through your hair and lips pressed against your temple before two sets of eyes fix on you. One chocolate brown and the other a piercing blue as they look at you expectantly.

It’s a stand off for longer than you anticipated. Neither Johnny nor Simon speaking and you trying to catch up with how fast your brain is moving. Eventually you move to speak after taking another sip of water, a few drops slipping past your lips as your hands shake slightly. 

“I’m not going to apologize, if that’s what you’re waiting for.”

Simon throws his hands up, a scoff slipping passed his masked lips, the sound muffled by the black surgical mask adorning his face. 

“Of course that’s the first bloody thing you say-”

“Well I’m not!” You argue, frustration bubbling up in your chest as the heart monitor slowly speeds up. 

Johnny tries to step in. “Lass, we dinnae expect an apology-”

Simon cuts him off.

“Speak for yourself,” he steps closer to the side of the bed, gripping the side-rail in a white knuckled grip. “Do you have any idea how stupid that was? Throwing yourself in front of us like that?”

You have to fight back the tears you feel burning at the back of your eyes. Anger, frustration, guilt all bubbling together in your chest in a confusing mix of emotions. 

Why is he giving you the third degree? 

“It’s not like I planned it Simon, I didn’t think-”

“You’re fucking right you didn’t think!” Simon roars, voice reverberating off the walls of the small hospital room. 

Johnny reaches out then, hand firm on Simon’s shoulder as he tries to pull him away from you. “Simon, that’s enough-!”

He shoves his hand away, turning to pin the sergeant with a fiery gaze before turning his attention back to you. 

“No Johnny,” he bites before addressing you again. “Did you know you died?” 

The words shock you, making you physically flinch back into the bed as Simons stares you down. And it’s in this suffocating silence that his statement brought on that you finally see it. The fear in his eyes. The fear that wavers just beneath the watery lash line of the eyes you’ve come to find solace in. 

You shake your head softly. 

“I…I died?”

Johnny nods, sniffling softly before swiping a hand down his face. 

“For five minutes,” He says softly, finally moving to sink into one of the chairs by your bed. 

“You died,” Simon repeats, voice having lost its angry edge. “And you could’ve stayed dead. Then you would’ve been six feet under with nothin’ but a fucking medal an’ a picture on the wall and-” he chokes. “And where would we be? Where would we be without you?”

Johnny takes your hand in his own - the familiar calloused warmth soothing to your battered mind and body. You close your eyes for a moment, breathing in and out in measured beats as you try to digest this information. You’re only brought out of it when another hand takes your free one - this one also familiar in a slightly different way. 

It reminds you of why you did it in the first place. You love them. Both of them in their own unique way. Johnny is big and all consuming and loud and boisterous but gentile and just slightly soft around the edges when he needs to be. His hands are calloused and warm but smoother on the palms. 

Simon is…he’s somewhat opposite. He’s quiet and reserved and frankly quite intimidating on the outside. His words are few but meaningful. He’s large and imposing and can scare the living daylights out of someone when he wants but when he’s with you and Johnny…he’s different. He’s all gentle words and soft touches - as if you’re made of fine porcelain and he’s the bull in the china shop. His hands are cooler than Johnny’s but still soft in places and still just as comforting. 

“I love you,” you finally whisper, eyes peeling open to look at the men by your sides. 

“I…I can’t apologize because I love you,” you explain. “And if I had to do it all over again, I would. It was just…instinct.”

They’re both silent for a moment, your words sinking in until Simon lets out a rather uncharacteristic sniffle. He tugs down his mask, pressing his thumb and forefinger into his eyes before bringing your hand up to his lips, pressing a feather light kiss to your knuckles. 

“Yeah, well…” his voice is thick with emotion. “Leave the sacrificin’ to us in the future, okay love?”

He doesn’t say much more, never being one to talk much about how he feels, but you understand what was left unsaid. And so does Johnny, apparently voicing what your shared partner can’t.

“He’s right, lass,” he agrees, lips tugging up in the smile you’ve come to adore. “We just got somethin’ good. Too good for the likes of us. Cannae go losin’ it now.”

You send both of them a smile of your own, but it’s damped by the tears that finally spill over. Not sad ones necessarily, but tears created out of love and pure adoration for the men before you. 

The tears don’t make it far before Simon is reaching out, cradling your face in his hands, thumbs wiping them away before pulling his mask down just enough to press his lips to your own. You return the gesture, squeezing his hand when he pulls away. 

You then tug Johnny towards you, sniffling before giving him a quick kiss as well when he leans in. Then before you can move two sets of arms are wrapped around you, careful of your wounds but holding onto you fiercely. Whispered ‘I love you’s’ are murmured into your skin, fingers carding through you hair as you all finally relish in each other’s presence. 

For now you were all alive - alive and able to hold one another. 

And that would just have to be good enough. 

[lis-likes-fics]

spencer reid drabble

cw: mute!reader, american sign language usage, // means things said in sign

You look up as Emily comes in for the day. She’s a little late—only by a couple minutes—but it’s no big deal. She waves as she walks in. “Hey, everyone.” You all give her your greetings as she sets her purse on the desk (across from yours) with a hefty sigh. “How’s everyone doing?”

“Let’s see,” JJ says, twirling around in her chair and raising her cup. “Coffee, check. No case, double check. Doing great so far.”

You smile, leaning back in your own chair. You start to sign, your hands moving quickly as you go through a short recap. /Spencer got me this pastry from the bakery this morning, and it was so good./ Spencer’s voice easily narrates your movements.

“Sounds delicious,” Emily sighs, the sound so longing that you think she may be imagining a pastry of her own to munch on.

You’re selectively mute. As soon as you joined the team a few years ago, everyone loved you from the beginning. While they did their best in learning sign for you, Spencer was already a pro and did most of your translating.

He sits next to you—right now, at least. Hotch has gotten into the habit of separating the both of you when work gets slow. You indulge him and his distractions, even though you’re so quiet. You can’t be blamed! You like to listen to him speak. Who cares how much work is piling up?

It’s nice. You could go as fast as you wanted, and Spencer could always keep up with you. Sometimes when you were in the comfort of your own home, curled up on the couch with Spencer, neither of you would even say words. It would be a silent exchange where you would sit and “talk” for hours.

“Oh, damn it,” Emily mutters, sitting back in her chair and staring down at her lap. Her voice is laced with exasperation. “Not again.”

JJ hums. “Someone sounds cranky.” She peers over to get a better look at what’s going on.

A sharp breath passes through her. She starts toying with her belt, shaking her head briefly. “No, I just got this new belt a while ago, but it’s super crappy. This is my first time wearing it, and it keeps coming undone.” She fixes said belt, holding onto it like she’ll do it for the rest of the day if she has to. “If these pants weren’t so loose, I’d just take it off,”

You nod. Spencer speaks as you sign. “You should try Spencer.”

Everyone’s confused, including Spencer.

“‘Spencer’?” JJ wonders, eyeing you curiously, though amusement is shining in her gaze.

You have to hide your smile as you turn to Spencer, shaking your head gently. You go slow. /The clothes./

Spencer’s eyes immediately light up. “Oh!” he exclaims, turning back to everyone. He starts to sign as he speaks, and you’re not sure if he realizes he’s even doing it. “Sorry, suspenders. She’s saying you should try suspenders.”

Your laugh is silent, and you shake your head in your amusement. /Yeah. I used to wear them as a kid. I went through a phase./

They nod in understanding, but then Emily’s brow furrows and she chuckles. “Wait, do you call Spencer ‘Suspenders’?”

You shrug, glancing away. /They sound really similar…/ Spencer’s voice doesn’t match the quiet of your movements, but that’s okay.

He nods anyway. “Yeah. Emily, she calls you ‘Mystery’.”

Her face shines in surprise, a smile creeping on her lips. “Oh, cool,” she mutters.

JJ smiles big, leaning toward you and crossing her arms over her chest. Her interest is piqued now. “What about me?”

You purse your lips in the same way Spencer does, that awkward tight smile that you adore so much as you glance over at him. He mirrors your expression, clearing his throat and shrugging lightly. “She just signs J-2.”

Her shoulders drop a bit, her smile shrinking. “Oh,” she mumbles. A tiny sigh slips past her lips.

You rub your fist clockwise over your heart in apology. /It’s simple./

She shakes her head dismissively. “I get it.” She’s not really upset, but she had hoped for something more exciting. She turns back around to her desk to finish the work shining over her screen.

Emily looks at you past her computer, one brow raised with a curious grin. You forget how pretty she is sometimes. “Suspenders, huh?” she says quietly.

You shrug, your signs just between you and her. /He holds me up./ She laughs, muttering something about you being corny before she’s placing her attention back on her screen.

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[catghoul31]

Mandatory Snuggles

Wade had to go on a mission for a bit too long, in Logan’s mind. For this terrible crime, he is sentenced to snuggle jail for 5,000 years.

(For @poolverine-week Day 6: feral behavior)

No CWs this time, besides light-hearted canon typical behavior

Read it under the cut or on ao3!

“Logan? I’m back! Just killed a shit ton of people so we can make rent this month!!”

Normally, Wade’s entrance would be greeted by at least some sort of acknowledgement from Logan. A grunt if he was tired, a once-over to check for injuries- at least, the ones that took longer than a few seconds to heal- maybe even a kiss? He was really hoping for that last option today, it had been quite the adventure…

Instead, he got Blind Al barely nodding at him, mumbling something under her breath about how she ever got herself into Wade’s fucked up life- but thanks for getting us money this time, sweetheart- and Mary Puppins jumping on his leg as she usually did. Wade welcomed both greetings, especially the latter as he scooped the wrinkly dog into his arms and let her lick the remaining blood off of him, but where was Wolvie? His precious peanut? The best mutant ever and the light of his life- he always greeted him at the door! Something was up today…

“Wolvie?” he called out, still to no response. Huh- maybe he’d fallen asleep. He probably should’ve thought about that, actually, it was quite likely… at least, it would be if this wasn’t an afternoon hit! Those were always risky as fuck, and it was Logan dutifully cooking dinner whenever he got home from one of those that always brightened his spirits afterwards. He was the best boy ever, always doing the most for him and their little family, and he’d take the claws in his chest every single time he reminded him- even when he was distracting him from said cooking- because it was true!!

An afternoon nap wasn’t out of the question, though. It wasn’t like Wade was mad at him for not cooking, he’d never asked him to in the first place! No matter how many times he told Logan that he didn’t owe him anything, he still worked as if he did… ‘Worst Wolverine’ my ass!! Still, though, this was a different routine, and that couldn’t ever mean anything good!! It could mean that his little honey badger was suffering, or worse. Logan… hated him? Logan wanted him to rot on the street now? After eight months of being his boyfriend?? What other reason would he have to not give him a kiss after work? Surely it must be true. Wade went to check their shared room, just to be sure, and-

Oh. Oh my god. He would’ve taken a picture of this if he could, but why did this have to be the day his phone broke??

In the middle of their bed was Logan, curled up and purring in a pile of Wade’s clothes. He was wearing a pair of his sweats to boot- and did I mention that the entire room smelled like Wolvie right now?? It was the best smell ever- to my nose, at least. If only AO3 had a scratch-and-sniff feature… Wouldn’t that be something? Anyways, he was purring away in the clothing pile, clutching desperately to one of his many plushies- it looked like Hops the Frog was the lucky guy today!- but he didn’t seem completely content. Or completely asleep, either. Poor Logan’s face looked all scrunched up, and he was writhing around trying to get comfortable- kinda like the first few nights they spent together! What was he doing? More importantly… how was his Wolvie feeling??

“Hey, baby boy,” Wade cooed innocently enough, but Logan’s eyes still shot open and locked with his, daring him to say a word. Or were they? He wasn’t moving from where he was- if anything, he’d pressed his face further into the flannel shirt it was next to, breathing deeply through his nose… Ohhh! Did his kitty miss him? Was that the problem? This would be a quick fix, then… if Wolvie would let him in without any claws right now, that is.

“I’m back! I mean, you can probably see me, can’t you? How… how are you feeling, Wolvie?” he asked in a much softer tone than he’d normally use in a situation like this. Logan let out a low, quiet groan, serving as his only response to that question… Wade took off his own mask, the slight dampness in Logan’s eyes now noticeable to him. Oh, poor kitty… He really hoped he didn’t worry him too much, with how long his job had gone today, but it seemed like it was too late for that now. Right now, Wade needed to help his scrunkly scrimblo pookie bear feel better… Did he know what any of those words meant? Nope! But they were all Logan nonetheless.

The sad ball of Wolverine on his bed turned around, trying his best to hide his face from the world, and especially Wade. He knew how this went by now, as Logan still thought this side of himself was weird and embarrassing to witness. When he’d told him that the first time, Wade laughed and kissed his forehead gently- he was the poster child of all things weird and embarrassing! Logan had absolutely nothing to worry about, especially not if his big, dark secret was this adorable.

“Aw, peanut- if you wanna talk about it, I’m always down for a trauma-dumping session! I can take a load of emotional release dripping down my neck and chest any day…” Logan huffed, turning around briefly to shoot Wade a glare before curling in on himself again. If only he knew how to talk to anyone like a normal person. “Or not! You can just sit there, all comfy like the big kitty cat you are, and I can go get us some chimichangas! How about that?” he asked, giving Logan a minute incase he wanted to respond…

Still nothing. Damn! Usually, calling Wolvie a kitty (y’know, because he IS!!) always got a response from him. Claws through his shoulder, a grumble of “stop calling me that” or “that’s not even close to what a wolverine is, Wade, doesn’t make any damn sense-“ it all depended on the mood, really. This afternoon, it didn’t seem like Logan wanted to do anything except bury his face as far into those pink-hearted pajama bottoms as he could. Couldn’t he do that while he was wearing them…? Well, not right now, he couldn’t. Because it was sad Wolvie hours, apparently. And it was all his fault, so if he didn’t want to talk about it or eat about it…

Wade leaned over the bed to touch Logan’s head, rubbing the hair there gently. “What does my little Wolvie want, hm?” he asked him, as though he was talking to their dog instead- just before two massive arms leapt forward and pinned Wade to Logan. “AHH!! Shit, Logi, you could’ve just asked!!” he yelped, trying to wriggle himself into a comfier position against the heavier man- to absolutely no avail. “Not that I would ever say no to you, of course…”

If Wade shifted his head just so- tilted it upwards as much as he could, with it being smushed against his shoulder by an insistent hand, he could see Logan, as cute and dangerous as ever. His expression was uncharacteristically soft, and how could Wade forget that gorgeous rumbling he felt against his own chest? His purring… so loud and deep today, it was like he’d been gone for a month or something! It always felt so good against his sore body, though, that it made him want to press up against a happy Wolverine until the end of time…

“There’s my Wolvie… Did you miss me? I know, how dare capitalism keep me away from you, but I’ll always come back! I literally can’t disappear forever, and you know it…” Wade yammered on with that same loving tone, going to scratch Logan’s fluffy beard once he got one of his hands free. His purrs only increased, leaning into his palm and rubbing his chin against it insistently.

Once his hand was acceptably covered in Wolvie scent, Logan pressed his face against Wade’s neck, rubbing against it over and over. Wade knew that Logan doing this was just as much to cover himself in Wade’s scent as to scent-mark him possessively, and his heart melted into a puddle every time he did it. Now that his hair was thoroughly within reach, Wade couldn’t resist playing with it, especially when it made Logan purr even louder… After a few seconds of them doing this- so much petting and nuzzling anyone could confuse this scene with the average hotel room of two AnthroCon attendees- the tension in Wolvie’s body seemed to loosen considerably, making Wade smile with relief.

He leaned down, kissing the top of Logan’s head several times in rapid succession. Wade’s heart could’ve exploded at the way they made Logan melt in his arms... “See? You are a kitty, Wolvie! So demanding of my attention… I wonder what would happen if I pulled away for juuust a second-“ As soon as Wade’s hand left Logan’s head, he felt a hand reach back to push it back down, claw tips sticking out and everything!! “Hehehe, yep, I knew it!! So needy… You couldn’t even wait for me to come back to smell me again?” Wade’s clothes were still strewn about around Logan, one of his shirts wrapped around his neck. Wade knew he wouldn’t be washing that one for a while...

When Wolvie pulled back, he held Wade’s face firmly with both of his big hands (paws!!) and kissed him roughly. Wade sighed happily at the rough show of affection, feeling the desperation in the way Logan licked at his lips and returning his feverish pace as they made out passionately. Usually, Logan would’ve been the first to pull away, but Wade had to push at the fluffy bastard’s chest after a long while to free himself. Maybe he could die of suffocation via Wolvie kisses another time!

What certainly wouldn’t do, though, was the look of shame that barely flashed across Wolvie’s face the moment their lips parted. Wade never wanted Logan to feel like he was being too much- au contraire, he could never have enough of him! “Wolvie, sweetie pumpkin, look at me…” He caressed Logan’s face as he did as he was told- good boy, such a sweet boy… Wade kissed his forehead, booping his nose with his thumb at the same time. “Love you, kitty,” he mumbled, and though he wouldn’t hear the words back for a couple more hours, the way Logan pressed himself to his chest told Wade all his heart needed to hear.

“Sorry for not texting back, by the way. My phone got smashed to bits by an evil landlord. Yes, I know that’s redundant, dear reader, but this one liked to curb-stomp puppies! Oh, it was bad…”

Logan just kept purring away in his arms as he spoke nonsense as usual, but in the distance, Wade heard Blind Al find the wreckage he’d left on the counter- “This is the third one this month, Wade! God damn it all…”

Much to her chagrin, neither Logan nor Wade could bring themselves to care right now.

[milykins]

*sticks nose in your inbox* hello!

I heard from a pair of bloomers waiting to be put out to dry that you were looking for fluffy bayverse raph prompts? Maybe something set at the farmhouse? Raph getting to wake up with the sun streaming through the window for once, cuddling close with his s/o, as soft and sweet as you want to make it please ❤️.

Final ask answered! I am such a sucker for soft romance... this was so nice to write. Also it's very funny that I'm giving off the vibe that I'd like to write for Bayverse Raph. Honestly, I love writing for him. He's my second favourite turtle next to Mikey.

I hope this is what you envisioned. Thank you for sending the prompt, these asks have been great for helping me to become a better writer.

Thanks to @sophiacloud28 for checking it over for me!

TW: A tiny bit spicy at the end with Raph getting a little handsy with his SO.

Raph x female reader, aged up characters of course.

Golden Mornings

There was something so indescribably intimate about the mornings. Waking up slow, wrapped in his warm embrace. The soft, sleepy puffs of air on your neck. Deep, even motions of his chest, rising and falling with each breath. Strategically placed hands, and oh, those magnificent arms of his. Holding you like you were the most precious thing he owned. You were special to him in a way he couldn’t even express.

So, he showed you. Pressing tender kisses to your palms, knuckles, whatever he could reach really. Any expanse of skin was begging to have his mouth on it. Hugs from behind, especially when you were least expecting it. He didn’t care what you’re doing, you were not in his arms and that needed to be rectified. His arms belonged around you. He needed to feel the press of your body against his because it had just been too long since he felt it. He was addicted to you. Your scent, your softness, he loved it all.

He especially loved packing you up and taking you out for adventures on his bike. No responsibilities, no stress, just the two of you on the open road. He often liked taking you to the old, yet refurbished farmhouse. There was just something about that place that you couldn’t describe. It was many things that made this place special. The house itself, nestled in secluded acres of farmland and forestry. The feeling of being wrapped in the solitude of the sounds and smells of nature. Watching him walk around freely outdoors with no fear of anyone looking at him like he’s anything less than the incredible creature he is. Your unsung hero in red.

Oh, and waking up with him in this place. That was something else. Golden sunlight streaming in through tiny cracks in the blinds. His soft murmuring in your hair as you shift slightly and inhale deeply upon waking. Not yet… he wanted to stay in bed and hold you just a little longer. His arms tightening to keep you there, afraid to let you go. You’re quick to reassure him that you’re not going anywhere and feel his arms relax a little. He’s still somewhere between sleep and waking but coherent enough to press a soft kiss at the nape of your neck and slide his hand over your hip.

That’s when you felt rather than heard just how relaxed and content he really was. A sound reserved only for you. Soft, rumbling vibrations that radiated from his body to yours. Permeating your entire being. He only ever churred around you and it was both humbling and gratifying to know how safe and happy he felt to do it so freely. The rumbling alone could be enough to lull you back into the sweet embrace of sleep but you had other things on your mind.

You feel his grip tighten a little with the very purposeful push of your backside to his lower body. Oh, he was more awake now. The rumbling intensifies and you feel more soft kisses, spanning the expanse between your neck and shoulder. His hands, no longer still, began exploring the remainder of your uncovered skin. He didn’t like any barriers between his body and your own and made a point of removing them. Sometimes things got torn from you in heated moments of passion. Occasionally though, he removed things slowly like you were his own personal birthday present and he was taking his time unwrapping you. You weren’t sure which you preferred honestly. He could turn you into a puddle of need either way.

Currently, he was doing just that as his large hands smoothed their way across your body. The lazy beams of sunlight painting the walls only served to add warmth to the slow burn growing between the two of you. He can smell how much you want him. The sharp intake of breath and the squeeze of his hand on your hip was evidence enough. Your arousal was near impossible for him to resist, sweet, heady, and just you. If you were willing, he never hesitated in giving you exactly what you needed.

A plea from your lips has his hand travelling up to your breast for a squeeze and a gently brushing of his fingers across the peaks. A gasp escaped your lips, coupled with a now involuntary push of your hips. Then he growled, the sound sending an absolute rush of need straight to your core.

“Good way to wake up…” he husked; his voice rough with want.

“Best way to wake up…” was your quick, yet breathless reply.

He couldn’t agree more. He may not be great with words, but he was going to show you just how much he loved and appreciated you. Right at that moment, in that perfect golden morning. Just the two of you.

Until the next ask!

@danceingfae @thelaundrybitch @iridescentflamingo @redsrooftopprincess @ninnosaurus

@the-cauldron-witch @thepinkpanther83 @avery73 @adebauchedsloth @sophiacloud28

@definitely-canon @scholastic-dragon @truffle-reblogs @fyreball66 @yorshie

Please ask if you'd like to be added to the taglist!

[h0ney66]

Can you please write Adam somnophilia 🥺🙏

I need him to use me so bad

i hope this is what you were looking for dear! <3

One thing was for certain, Adam was addicted to you. He just needed his hands on his sweet girl constantly, whether it be soft, lingering touches to your waist, or little squeezes to your ass that made you yelp and giggle. Whenever he was out, unable to touch you, he counted every second ‘till he could feel you again.  

Tonight was one of those nights, he had a late-night meeting with the angelic court that seemed to drag on for eternity.  You were back home, growing impatient waiting for your sweet boyfriend. You made yourself dinner, left some for him in the oven, took a relaxing bubble bath, and got ready for bed, slipping on a silk nightgown with lace trim at the hem and neckline, one you knew drove him crazy.  

You slipped in bed, yawning as you snuggled up in the sheets, the plush surroundings instantly putting you to sleep. The room was filled by the soft sound of your breathing and occasional shifting that made your pretty dress bunch up above your soft thighs.  

As you slept soundly, Adam finally got home. He groaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he put his keys on the small table by the entrance of your home. He checked the kitchen, noticing the dinner you left for him, it painted a small smile on his face. Adam went upstairs, quietly, careful not to wake up his sweet, sleeping girlfriend.  

Adam made his way to your shared bedroom, his eyes instantly falling upon the innocent sight of you sleeping, a few strands of your hair had fallen in front of your eyes, your nightgown bunched at your hips now. He slowly walked towards you, unbuttoning his shirt and throwing it aside, then removing his pants, getting on the bed in only his boxers.  

He took in the sight of you, so beautiful, so vulnerable, so tempting. Brushing the strands of your luscious locks aside, he looked at your sleeping face, eyes closed, lips parted slightly. His gaze slowly drifted from your pretty face to your chest, your supple tits spilling out of the nightgown, pushing the thin fabric of the dress. He licked his lips, his eyes looking at you like prey. He ran his hands down the curve of your waist, his touch soft and gentle. “Fuck, my pretty doll, all exposed and sleepy for me,” he whispered softly, his hands now touching your hips and thighs, feeling your soft flesh under the dress. He wanted nothing more than to rip it off you, feel your warm skin under his touch.  

As he continued his gentle touches, you shifted slightly, your leg hiked up now, exposing your pussy, the soft fabric of your panties covering it. Adam’s gaze fixed on the delicious sight of you, body practically begging for him to use you. He shifted closer to you, his fingers caressing you through your panties. His cock was rock hard now, pushing against his boxers.    

“Oh, you sweet thing, getting wet from my touch even when you're asleep, such a slutty body you have,” he coos as he slowly moves your panties aside, his fingers now dipping between your folds, making your sleeping figure shiver. He pulls himself out, pumping his throbbing cock as he fingers you, moans and dirty words spilling from his lips. His head falls back with ecstasy.   

“Oh darling, I'm sorry love, I'm sorry, you just look too beautiful, so dirty, had to touch my little doll” 

“C’mon sugar, be a good girl, stay asleep for me won't you, c'mon angel, keep your sleepy head on the pillow” 

The sight of your sleeping body, all splayed out for him, so soft and innocent, was enough to make him finish. He moans as he spills his hot ropes of cum on your thighs, smearing his release on your soft flesh, painting you pretty. 

Adam couldn't help but smile cockily, looking at his cute girl so unsuspecting, asleep with cum on her. As he laid down beside you, spooning you in his big arms, all he could think of was the next time he could use his doll’s body again.  

[venuswarmlight]

I was hoping to request a jealous Mizu x reader, like maybe she sees reader joking around with Tenzin and she gets really jealous. Idk maybe something along those lines ig. Tbh you can do whatever really, I just want some jealous Mizu x reader stuff. Sorry if this sounds too vague😓, Anyway thank you 🩷🖤

I hope I didn’t read this too late! A lot of things happened but what matters now is that I can keep writing. Hope you enjoyed it, i did it femreader bc I assumed you wanted it that way(I ALSO DIDNT FIND A GIF FOR THIS IM SO SORRY itS BEEN MONTHS I DONT USE TUMBLR)

Warnings: nsfw at the end. Not very proofread. Taigen acting like a man in the 1600’s. BAD ENGLISH.

Notes: Reader is an archer. Idk I’ll be adding more

Jealous!Mizu x Fem!Reader.

Having a mercenary girlfriend was the best thing that happened to you, from the first time you two met until now your only work was following her like a puppy through the villages and kicking asses to the ground like the badass you were, and of course the cozy nights were you both trained your fighting skills next to a lake just to end it by making out until her hands were already in your chest, desperate for blowing off some steam. Your life next to Mizu was great, yeah, but thanks to an unfortunate serious of events you weren’t the only ones in a campfire nearby that forest lake. At least for now.

“I’ll see if there’s another rabbit out there.” Mizu got up from the snowy ground, and looked at you. “Scream if Taigen gets too nosy.” She said as she dead-stared at the man sitting next to you.

“I’ll be fine, but thank you.” You smiled at her and went back to polishing your arrows, while Taigen was doing literally anything but looking at you with curiosity.

After a few minutes you finally broke the ice between you and him, your voice as soft as a feather while you spoke “You’re staring, you know that?”

He immediately realized and turned his head to the campfire smoke, loosing himself in the front view. “I’m sorry, I’m just.. Surprised.” He answered later, hesitant.

“Of what?” Your eyebrows furrowed, and you lifted your gaze to look at him, concerned.

“Well, women like you are not usually seen in these conditions.. Much less with a man like him.” His words intrigued you, what did he meant by this? You inhaled deeply as you kept doing your work, finally storing the arrows in their respective case.

“I find myself very comfortable where I am right now, I don’t know what you m-”You were interrupted by Taigen, he turned himself getting in front of you.

“You’re too pretty to be an archer instead of living in an estate with a rich man.”

Oh. So this is what he meant. Your eyes widened and you started laughing, covering your mouth of embarrassment, honestly it was uncomfortable and out of place but you decided to take it as a compliment AND as a dare. Purposely changed the subject to avoid personal questions and scolded him, pushing him playfully. “Hey! My appearance has nothing to do with my abilities.”

Taigen chuckled, not pushing you back but being more confident with his approaching attitude. “I’m just saying the truth, you should-”

“Oh, yeah, that’s enough!” You jumped onto him, making him fall into the snow and taking him by surprise, his head bounced a bit on the ground, disoriented.

“What is wrong with you!?”

“Can’t fight a woman back? You must be shitting your pants right now, what a shame.” You spilled, sarcastically, but that dominance fell when he grabbed your hands placed in his chest and used it as a support to push you to the right, shifting positions, now his body was topping you, his hands immobilizing yours by pressing hard on your upper torso.

“Not bad.. But still not as good as me.” He proudly said, suddenly you kicked his butt with your knee from the back, making him loose his strength in your wrists, you repeated his last movement, ending again in how you started that silly fight, your giggles and laughters filled the forest’s natural sounds, and suddenly you totally forgot that Mizu could come back anytime and find you two in this compromising position.

You and Taigen struggled there for a few minutes, what he thought that would be a stupid kid’s fight turned into a challenge, even if it didn’t look like it, he started recognizing how.. Incredible you were, your smooth but hard blows, the little screams you made when you felt like you were gonna loose, now he understood.

How lucky Mizu was for having a girl like you.

You finished the fight by enlazing your fingers with an iron grip around his neck, and your other hand threatening his face with your fist, but you forgot that Taigen’s hands were still free. He grabbed your waist and managed to make you fall on your back as he stood up from the ground and made you loose your grip on his neck, his legs immobilizing yours and his hands putting your wrists above your head, his uncontrolled breathing crashing against your nose as he laughed. “Defeated.”

Before you could answer, you saw a third person kick Taigen’s body from the side, just in the ribs, making him fall to the ground, almost burning his whole body next to the campfire, you sat up quick and looked at him first, then looked up at your side, a tall figure with a dead bunny grabbed by the ears in front of you, those blue unsettling eyes staring at you with the coldest countenance. You knew right there and then she was mad as hell.

“Training without me?” Mizu got on her knees to the campfire to roast the rabbit, not caring about Taigen’s prolly broken rib (not really). You stood up to clean your clothes and sit next to her, nervous. You weren’t doing anything wrong, but still.

“We were just playing.” You excused yourself, trying to make her look at you, but no. She was ignoring you.

Instead of answering, her gaze turned out to Taigen, who was struggling to recover from that fucking kick that hurt as hell. “You’re getting too comfortable here, aren’t you?” Her tone was noticeably passive-aggressive, her grip on the roasting stick was tightening.

“That wasn’t fucking necessary! Fuck, it hurts..” He yelled, finally sitting a bit far from you two, you could feel the tension building heavier and thicker in the ambiance.

It was so uncomfortable you felt like you had to go. “I’m gonna wash my hands before eating, I won’t be long.” You got up to escape the funeral situation you were just in, but a hand grabbed yours, making you stop, you looked back with concern, Mizu was behind you with that angry gaze, sending shivers down your spine.

“It’s too dark to go alone.” She said, then looked at Taigen “Take care of the dinner, don’t screw it up.” He was about to talk but instantly shut his mouth like he knew if he talked he could end up dead.

You tried to forget her toxic behavior as you two disappeared yourselves into the woods, the moonlight making the path for both, the silence feeding your ‘I’m fucked’ thoughts and increasing more when you felt her grip on your hand tightening, she ended up dragging you to a not so far place, finally letting out your hand. The only thing you could look was her back and her little black bun.

“What was that?” She spat, aggressively turning herself and hoovering over you.

“I told you we were just playing.“You stepped back, but unconventionally bumped with a tree behind you, before you could realize, Mizu had you cornered, your chest rising and falling against hers as she looked down at you.

“It didn’t look like it.” And the jigsaw puzzles connected in your head. She was jealous.

“Are you doing this because you’re-”

”Maybe. Seeing my dove pinned down by a bald monkey it’s not funny.” Her words were sharp, you didn’t even know how to answer.

Your hand gently caressed her cheek, making her gaze softened as she looked at you. “You’re the only one in my heart.” You whispered, dragging her closer to your face, her hands traveling down your curves and grabbing your hips tightly, your heat already increasing its temperature as it mets her knee, rubbing your core tentatively.

“I still want to fuck that pretty smile outta’ you.” Her lips attacked you like an animal, making you whimper and moan against her watery mouth, her knee making you hump on it desperately and your inner thoughts begging for mercy cause’ this night was going to hit you hard and long.

[nymphomaniaa]

something about us — an outtake from "shot in the dark"

summary: schlatt feels bold while sharing a hotel room with you.

warnings: light angst.

notes: i sincerely apologize for chapter 19 of 'something about us' still not being released! life has been very cruel to me lately, cruel enough that i haven't had the time to really polish the new chapter. to apologize, i wanted to post this snippet i found in the depths of my storage, originally written in 2020. it was meant to be sandwiched somewhere chapter 5 and 6, but i removed it because it made the connection between the reader and schlatt feel way too rushed and unnatural. but it is definitely a noteworthy outtake, so i hope you enjoy it.

The two of you returned to the hotel room a few hours after the sun set. Shivers ran down your body as the cold ocean breeze outside cared less about your bare legs, so as soon as Schlatt opened the door for you, you immediately lunged for the warmth of your bed. You sighed, letting your face sink into the mattress, closing your eyes and taking in the sharp scent of cleaning agents and dust.

Schlatt sits next to you at the edge of the bed, groaning miserably from walking and being awake all day. He couldn't see you roll your eyes at the fact that he got to take a nap but you didn't. What could he possibly be tired from?

You lifted yourself off of the mattress and crawled to the foot of the bed. Schlatt had taken off his cap and tossed it onto his bed on the other side of the room, and now he was just sitting there, propping himself up with his lanky arms. You couldn't help but study the way his hair had perfectly framed his forehead whenever he took his hat off, and how his eyelashes fluttered whenever he looked at you.

Now that you noticed it, you two were sitting way too closely for you to be able to notice his eyelashes. But neither of you moved, sitting together, so close that if you even twitched, your arm would graze his arm, or his leg could push against yours. The looks exchanged between two people, alone in this room, started to make your face flush. The realization had hit Schlatt too, as he started to subconsciously lower his head to meet you at your level.

Quiet enough that you just barely hear it, he mutters, "...Can I kiss you?"

"What?" you blink back, confused.

"...Jesus Christ," he looks away sheepishly, immediately standing up, which shifts the weight on the mattress and almost tumbles you over the edge. "That was so fucking weird. That was so fucking weird, I'm so sorry. Please forget I said that."

"Wait," you stand up, but he steps further away from you, as if you were a growing flame he needed to avoid. You ignore his avoidance, putting your hand on his shoulder and pulling him back to face you again. He drags his head down, and illuminated by the dimmed skylights in the foyer, you can barely make out the way his jawline is tense.

"You're not... under the influence, or anything? Right?" you chuckled, partly from disbelief, and partly from the nervousness that comes with genuine concern.

"God, no. I don't do that. Not often, anyway," he puts his hands in the pocket of his hoodie, awkwardly averting his gaze from you.

"Schlatt," you trail your hand down from his shoulder to his chest, feeling the faintness of his racing heartbeat. "I mean, we only just met..." you whisper.

"I know," he sounds upset. "That's what makes this feel worse."

"Makes what feel worse?"

"Seriously just... just forget it—"

You stand on your toes and offer him a peck on the cheek, maybe as a gesture of comfort, but maybe because whatever he was feeling towards you was most definitely reciprocated. His eyes are as wide as golf balls as he stares down at you, almost glares down at you. A mischievous smile creeps up on your face, and with the open opportunity, you give him another peck on his other cheek.

"We... [Y/N], we basically just met," he takes his hand out of his pocket to place it gently over yours resting on his chest. "And you just got out of a relationship, this isn't—"

"Just—" you step closer to him, so that you can crane your neck up to meet his face. "Just kiss me."

His eyes, which were once darting all over the room, are now locked onto yours. Then, his glances are caught on your lips. Soon enough, he is unknowingly leaning down, far enough that his lips are millimeters away from grazing yours. As your eyelids drift to a close, he uses his free hand to gently touch your waist, then seals the deal.

It's a short, nervous kiss at first. But when he pulls away and sees you adoringly grinning at him, he feels enticed to kiss you again. For longer, this time. For himself, this time.

When he pulls away again, you chase him. Locked in another kiss, he notices the way you melt into his arms, and fully takes advantage of this moment to snake his other arm around your waist, greedily embracing you tightly, as if he never wanted to let go.

But eventually, he does. He snaps back into reality, and harshly breaks the kiss.

"No. This isn't right," he says a little louder than a whisper this time, with conviction, as if he were being tried in court. "But why do you—"

"I have feelings for you," you blurt out. "I feel so bad for falling for you within just the first few days of us meeting, but I just couldn't help myself."

He hesitates. "I think it's my loneliness making me feel something for the first attractive girl I've seen in months."

You feel conflicted. Does he not actually like you?

"Well, I think it's just my broken heart focusing on the good within you. But maybe there aren't a lot of bad things about you to begin with."

"You don't know me," he loosens his embrace with you, letting his arms fall to his sides. "There are a lot of things you don't know about me."

"You don't know me that well either, but you still feel a certain way about me, right?" you grin optimistically. You catch a gleam in his eye as he accepts your logic.

The whistle of the wind outside paired with the rhythmic waves of the tide calm the tension between you and Schlatt. His steady, nervous breathing, shows up in his voice. "Can we just... pretend? Like everything is fine between us?"

"Everything is fine, though. What do you mean?"

"Like, I'm not saying I don't like you or anything, but this is... this feels like a dream. I want you so badly, but there are so many things in the way that prevent me from getting into another relationship."

You feel like you have been directly punched in the gut by him. It doesn't help that he is walking away from you, returning to his spot on his own bed. He climbs on top of his mattress, and you try to follow by sitting next to him, but he doesn't even look at you.

"Let's just keep this secret for now, okay? That's all I'm saying. Let's just keep things casual."

He says this a little too nonchalantly. From one moment, he was kissing you, but in the next moment, you might cry.

"Okay," you sweetly whisper, hiding the way your throat feels like it's closing up. Your heart aches.

The room is too dark for him to see your face, so by the tone of your voice alone, he feels like he has done the right thing. He feels like you are on exactly the same page as him. How convenient! For him, at least.

"I mean, maybe I'll take you on a few dates to get to know you more, we can have fun together, and hopefully over time... y'know."

"...But can we still talk about this a little before you leave for New York?" you whisper.

He grins up at you, reaching a free hand towards your face. He uses his thumb to caress your cheek, and his other fingers gently massage your scalp.

"Yeah. Before I leave for New York."

[yeonmuse]

MINI SERIES | YANG JUNGWON

CAN YOU HEAR MY HEART?

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 : Jungwon falls for an antisocial girl with a passion for music and a love for the stars.

GENRE, fluff, slow burn , smau

( 𝐁𝐚𝐞’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 ) : I honestly have no idea where this came from I just thought of anti social Jungwon and Anti social reader coming together and this is where it got me

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𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 @jwonistic @jiamini @sol3chu @vixialuvs

The final score

Today was the final day which Jungwon and yn would spend together working on the project together. Needless to say he wasn’t sure what would happen after this, yes the two of them had become closer but he had his doubts. Would she still want to hang out with him after tonight? He sat silently tapping his pencil against the table as the ticking of the clock continued to wind. His nerves screaming at him to for once go against his thoughts and go for what he clearly wanted.

His thoughts were interrupted as yn slipped into the room like always, she held two drinks in her hand just like the last night they worked with one another.

“It’s so cold out.” She places the drinks on the table before taking off her coat, Jungwon realized it almost immediately and he hated that he did, but she was avoiding his gaze.

“So I already recorded the tracks. Should we start by working on their placements?”

“Look at me yn.”

“Huh? What do you mean?” He caught her, she couldn’t look at him, not after last night. It would only make things worse for her, it would only solidify the way she felt for him after last night.

“You haven’t looked at me once since you came inside yn, please.” His pleading made her heart hurt her chest, she sensed a hint of hurt in his voice but she couldn’t get herself to face him. So without a second thought Jungwon took it upon himself to turn her head and make her look at him.

“Better.” Her breath caught in her throat as she was forced to now face him, unlike her he didn’t shy away from her gaze, he stared directly into her eyes.

“Um, so the soundtrack.” She clears her throat before returning her attention back to the task at hand. She remained like that with him for the rest of the night. Stealing glances at him or chasing the subject when he talked about anything other than the project at hand, they worked at it for hours until they had perfected it. Then there was nothing more to discuss once the final adjustments had been made.

“Why do I feel like you’re trying to push further and further from me no matter how much closer you try to get?” The question caught her off guard, but it wasn’t like it was something she could avoid.

“What do you mean..?”

“The entire time since the day we met we've been trying to get closer to you, Sunoo became friends with you faster than I ever could, you grew accustomed to the others in just an hour..but with me..”

“Jungwon..”

“What about me is different from them?”

“You make me feel how the stars used to make me feel..” It was clear by Jungwons expression that he was completely confused.

“When I was younger, I fell in love with stargazing. It was calming on nights where all I could do was overthink or bombard myself with useless thoughts. It became an ongoing thing, listening to music and writing beneath the stars and I felt, I felt happy..like I wasn’t alone. I could look at them and hope for things I'd never hope for on a normal day, but at some point the sky became void of them.” Jungwon had no idea where she was going with this, but everything in him was more than sure she felt the way he did.

“The way I would feel when I look at them, is how I feel with you, calm, Seen, heard, like I'm not alone. But you also make me feel things I've never in my life experienced with Jungwon. You make me nervous. I’ve never ever in my life felt like this towards anyone before because I always made sure that I was alone. With the others it's so easy…but with you, I don’t want your friendship Jungwon, I like you.”

Jungwon had no idea what to say, he was completely stuck, he had never expected for her to be sitting right here confessing to him that she liked him.

“I like you too.”

[tonycries]

You'll Taste Me Too! - G.S.

Synopsis. How do you last three days on a work trip with the man you hate the most in the office? You don’t - you end up pinned underneath him, instead.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, office AU, enemies to lovers, jealousy (Gojo’s side), FAKE DATING, PAST Naoya x reader, creampíes, breéding, oraI (fem receiving), spítting, hot springs, cúmplay, DOWN BAD Satoru, tensíon, he’s a bit mean, revenge on your ex, ambiguous office work, exhíbitionísm, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 11.9k (this was supposed to be HALF that)

A/N. This type of annoying Gojo is always so fun to write, hope y’all have a great week <3

In all your three years as head of the marketing department, it wasn’t any of the tight deadlines or the nervous interns that drove you crazy. Hell, it wasn’t even the fact that the coffee maker in the break room only made tea. 

No, the one thing you couldn’t stand - the one thing that had you contemplating whether your transfer was really worth it - came in the form of the 6’3, cloudy-haired manchild who headed the sales department. 

The one person who’d made it his personal mission to toy with your sanity as soon as you’d stepped foot into the cleancut office of Jujutsu Enterprises. 

The bane of your existence. 

“Gojo Satoru.”

“Huh?” you gape stupidly, and if this was any other time you’d have smacked yourself for the unprofessionalism. 

Yaga nods gravely - almost sympathetic - as if he honestly couldn’t fault you for your reaction. “Yes, since this upcoming contract relies heavily on collaboration between the marketing and sales departments, Satoru here-” He nods at the tangle of long limbs that’d been draped dramatically over the seat right next to you. “-will be accompanying you on your trip to Kyoto…unfortunately.”

“What do you mean ‘accompanying’-”

“The fuck do you mean ‘unfortunately’-”

Your supervisor heaves out a tired sigh over your flurry of protests, rubbing his temples, “Look, I wouldn’t have picked out your ah- duo either. But as heads of department, you two are the best and brightest we have. And the board believes we can snag the infamous Gakuganji and his protegé easily as clients with the combination of you both.” 

“But-” you sputter out. “Can’t I go with Nanami like I usually do? Surely he’s a better option than a pompous, no-good nepo-”

“And I’d rather go alone.” Gojo cuts through smoothly, flashing a cocky wink your way. “Sorry, sweetheart, but even my charm won’t be enough to stop you from scaring that client off.”

Fuck unprofessionalism. If looks could kill, the leveled glare you shoot the man at your side is enough to bury him six feet and have you dancing on his grave already. 

You scowl, crossing your arms over your chest. Now fully facing Gojo for the first time since you’d first entered Yaga’s stuffy office, “Oh yeah, and aren’t you the one that got reprimanded for sleeping through the last company meeting we had?”

“D-did not.” his cheeks tinge with a delicate strawberry pink.

“Did too.”

“Did not.”

“Did too.” you scoff, brows furrowing when you realize you’ve inched just a bit closer than appropriate. Your knees knocking against his, yet you don’t pull away out of stubborness. “What? Too embarrassed to admit your oh-so-great ‘charm’ was in the pillows?”

Almost mockingly, he’s copying your posture, tight white shirt straining over those biceps he didn’t hesitate to infuriatingly flex any time you came around. Minty breath wafting over your cheeks when he leans in to murmur lowly - just loud enough that Yaga won’t question, “No, but you would be happy to know that it is in the sheets.”

You blink, though, you can’t really be too surprised - of course, Gojo turns the conversation into something so filthy. He always does.

But before you can spit out a few venomous expletives you really would regret saying in front of Yaga, the man himself interrupts your argument with a pointed cough. “Since the chemistry is as lively as ever,” he’s deadpanning dryly. “I take it you both will be on your best behavior for these three days, and come back with a signed contract.”

Chemistry your ass. 

And though he’s addressing you both, you feel a stab of smug satisfaction when Yaga’s gaze lock with an amused Gojo’s. 

“Mhm, of course we’ll come back successful - how could you not with the star employee on this trip.” he motions airily in your direction. You stiffen, not expecting the compliment when- “And of course our cute resident hardass will be there, too.”

“You little fu-”

“Great!” Yaga claps his hands, a signal you knew meant to get the hell out of his office before he assigns more overtime. “It’s settled then, your tickets have been booked for tomorrow and I assume you both have been emailed the appropriate information?”

Nodding, you make your way to leave - and find that Gojo is waiting, glass door to the office held open for you. With a sharp click of your tongue, you bite down on whatever words come to your throat, barely out of the office before you hear a tired warning behind you, “And please don’t try to kill each other, our insurance doesn’t cover it.” 

When you’re both out in the hallway, Gojo flashes you a cocky smirk and an even cockier “You heard the man.” Pointing at his unfairly pretty features - not that you’d admit that in a million years. “After all, my face is insured but who’d want to hurt this handsome-”

“I could.” You interrupt, rolling your eyes. “Easily. And I would, too, if it wasn’t for the fact that this job pays well.” Something you say every time he prances around in your department during breaks, bragging about how you’re “all bark but no bite.”

Satoru only chuckles, raising his hands up in surrender when you continue, “Let’s just get through these three days, ace the contract, and never speak of this again. Okay?”

To your surprise, he’s grabbing one of your hands with his much larger ones - soft, you gulp, noting involuntarily. “I like what goes on in that pretty lil’ brain of yours, silly girl. Then, let’s charm the asses off that dumbass client and the board of elders~”

Everyone in the office knew of the strange little dynamic between you two - found it to be the utmost entertainment they got in the workday. But you were damned if you let it mess up this contract. 

If you two survived the entire three days, that is. 

---

You two were not surviving the entire three days - or the contract deal, for that matter. Hell, you couldn’t even survive this first day. 

“Gojo I told you.” you squint at the glossy paper. “It says platform eight. I know you can’t see without those ugly sunglasses of yours but-”

A big arm comes up suddenly behind your shoulders, snatching the train ticket clean out of your hands. Gojo lets it rest there as he exclaims, “Let me see. Now, y’know if this was me, I’d have chosen Gran class. Ichiji in finances really skimped out buying these second class seats, gonna hafta have a word with him when we get back…”

You narrow your eyes, frantically trying to push back that strange part of you that almost wanted to lean in closer to the hit of his piney, expensive cologne. “Have fun bullying him, you leech.”

To which he only responds with a syrupy giggle, “Oh, don’t worry.” And you let out a tiny gasp when he flicks your forehead softly. “You’ll be right there in first class with me. Even with that bratty attitude of yours, the ladies love those Gojo perks.”

“Mhm explains why you’ve been single for all three years I've had the misfortune of knowing you.” you hiss, eyes desperately darting about for directions to platform eight. You were going to get on this train - with or without him. Preferably without him.

So absorbed in your mission that if you didn’t know any better, you’d have said that Gojo’s words were a pitch higher than normal when he retorts with a strangled, “S-so what? Keepin’ an eye on me, sweetheart?”

And you knew the two of you definitely looked like a peculiar sight - Gojo’s dangling off of you like a ragdoll, surrounded by the few comically large suitcases that were mainly his. So much for a three-day work trip. Your face burns at the few weary salary workers that gave the two of you a very wide berth while going about their daily commutes. Fuck, you couldn’t even ask anyone for help at this point if you both looked at like some safety hazard. 

“Did you find it?” You huff when the silence lingers a bit too long - jumping when you raise your head up to find his burning stare already inches away from you. “God- I take it back, please keep those glasses on.”

“Hey!”

You’re digging your elbow into his side now, words stumbling over the other in a heated hurry, “And get- get off we’re gonna miss this-”

“It really is you, huh?”

All at once, you’re reminded that strangely it isn’t just the two of you causing ruckus in the middle of the Shinjuku station. Unfortunately. 

Any and all previous irritation at Gojo wipes away, flooding back as full, unbridled rage when you’re tearing your eyes away from the nuisance beside you to look up and-

Oh. 

Dammit, you knew you’d recognize that grating voice anywhere - and for the first time, it wasn’t Gojo’s.

“Naoya.”

“You.” 

Still didn’t even have the decency to address you properly, huh? You bite your lower lip, unaware what to say next. But luckily you didn’t have to - because Gojo is standing up straighter, features smoothing into a mask of cool appraisal when he sweeps his eyes down at the other man. 

Finally, Naoya seems to notice him. Flickering quickly between the arm still firmly around your shoulder and his darkened stare. “And who are you?”

“Could ask ya the same thing, two-tone.” he smiles, though it doesn’t reach his eyes. And you swear you could feel the soft pads of his fingers tightening, digging in through your silky work shirt. “What business do you have with us?”

Us - you didn’t miss the emphasis. 

Evidently, Naoya didn’t either, because his tone turns into a low, dangerous simper as he continues. “What? Can’t a man come up just to catch up with a fling?”

Gojo’s jaw clenches as he watches you register the word. Fling. Sure, after about a year of dating, the two of you didn’t have the cleanest break up - with the constant fights and him wanting to uproot your life and dream career with his new job transfer. But still. 

“Of course, he can.” Gojo raises a snowy brow, buttons on his shirt straining when he puffs his chest out ever-so-slightly. You can’t help but notice that he has much more than a few inches on your ex. Gruffing out, “But not when she’s with her new boyfriend.”

Boyfriend?

You freeze the word running around over and over in your hazy mind - boyfriend boyfriend boyfriend boyfriend-

“And trust me, she’s long forgotten your sorry ass.” You’re jolting back to reality only when you feel the slow, soothing glide of Gojo’s thumb at the exposed skin of your shoulder. He looks down at you with that familiar mirthful smile to say, “Isn’t that right, my girl?”

“Ah uh-” you’re mentally kicking yourself for not choosing to attend those acting lessons in college for extra credit. Coughing out what you hope to be a believable, “Yeah, this is G-Satoru, my- my boyfriend.”

But your coworker takes it all in concerning stride, pulling you flush against his toned chest, rumbling with the muse of “Mhm, and we’re very happy together.” You honestly feel like you’re about to fall weakly to your knees right then and there in the station when you feel the distinct pressure of two soft, plump lips grazing fleetingly at your forehead. Murmuring into your hairline, “Going on a couples’ trip to Kyoto this very moment, in fact.”

“I see.” Naoya levels out, and by the sharp glint in his eyes you already knew the gears on his head were turning. But before you could question him any further, the melodic voice of the railway announcer cuts through the tense air. “Ah- that’s me. And as pleasant as this reunion was, Kurama onsen doesn’t wait.” Before clapping a hand on the shoulder of the uncharacteristically silent Gojo stood by your side, “I wish you the best with your relationship, she’s only good the first few times after all.” His next words are cold and directed at you. “I’ll text ya, if you still don’t have me blocked, that is.” 

Saved by the train - and your fist gripping onto Gojo’s button-up, Naoya saunters to climb aboard the train currently entering the nearby platform. 

Leaving the both of you in that whirling, unfamiliar silence. Gojo’s arm is still burning around your shoulder, your muscles still aching from stopping him from powerfully lunging after the other man.

You break first. 

“Why…why did you do that.” you mutter over the bustling crowds - more to yourself than him, so you’re surprised when he responds just as hastily. 

“It’s just- Because he was a dick.” Gojo’s lips form a petulant pout. He decidedly avoids your probing eyes while he plows on, “And I should be the only one allowed to be a dick to you so don’t get it twisted, silly girl.”

You scoff, before your eyes widen at where Noaya was boarding through the doors of the sleek bullet train, “Wait- Gojo-”

“Satoru, think I deserve to be called ‘Satoru’ after that.” he grins irritatingly. “Consider it a payment since it’ll kill ya to say it every time.”

“Yes yes, S-Satoru-” you wave off, but you can’t deny how easily the name rolls off your tongue. And distinctly, you wondered why you called most of your coworkers by first name, but never him before. “He’s going to Kurama onsen.”

Gojo tilts his head, nose scrunching in confusion. “And?”

“We’re going to Kurama onsen.”

---

For all the disaster the first day had wrecked upon your sanity, you were thankful enough that neither of you were sat in the same area as Naoya. Barely even settling into your cushioned seat before putting on your headphones - and a sleeping mask for good measure so you couldn’t be riled up by your coworker again. 

Surprisingly he didn’t try either. Only bothering you to share his snacks occasionally, and hog the arm space on your chair, electricity running down your skin every time he brushed up against you. 

It was quiet, somehow neither of you minded. 

“Hah- are we- woah.” you gasp out after the short walk from the Kyoto station to your destination, an intricate wooden sign coming into view. Lugging your baggage with you - Gojo had insisted he carry it too as a show of strength, but you were sure it’s because he just wanted to give up halfway through and take a taxi instead. “It’s beautiful.”

“Yeah yeah I get that a lot.” Gojo comes up behind you without warning, a sultry trickle of sweat trailing down his forehead to the forbidden depths of where he’d unbuttoned his shirt a few times. “But usually it’s ‘gorgeous’ or ‘hot as hell’ or-”

“Oh, shut up.” you breathe, ripping your eyes away and towards the reception. “Get your ass moving now, we’ve gotta get checked in and form a game plan for the meeting.”

“That eager to get me in a bed? Always knew ya had it in you, sweetheart.” Oh, he lets out a shiver at your blazingly dirty look. “I mean- yes, ma’am.”

There aren’t too many visitors, and you choose to do the talking when you walk up to the sweet older lady at the reception, having decided that Gojo has done way too much of that for today. Humming, “Hi there, we’re here for two rooms reserved under the name ‘Yaga’?”

A few taps of her keyboard and she’s flashing you a megawatt smile, “Oh yes, you’re right on time!” Before getting up from her seat, “I’ll be the one escorting the young couple to their honeymoon suite. Just this way-”

And while Gojo breezes past you without a single complaint, you stand frozen in the middle of the cozy wooden room. Reaching out a hand to sputter, “W-wait, surely there must be some mistake? Honeymoon suite?”

Gojo is close enough that he whispers something in her ear, and you already know it doesn’t bode well for you at all. 

“Oh honey don’t worry.” she flutters a flustered hand at you. “There’s absolutely nothing wrong with having your dear boyfriend here spend a bit extra on a comfy suite. Either way, it has been booked for a while now and unfortunately nothing can be changed…”

Forgetting yourself, you sneak a glance over at where she had left her desktop on. The tiny letters on screen confirming that yes, this reservation was under the name Yaga. And no, it wasn’t a mistake that the room you were given was a honeymoon suite. 

“Get your ass movin’ now.” Gojo’s voice snaps you out of your little reverie, sounding as if he was on the verge of bursting into laughter while he mocks your earlier words. He grins, “When life gives you lemons- or when Yaga gives you a honeymoon suite…”

---

“Dibs not on the couch.”

“Dibs not on the- wait, no.” Gojo huffs when you’re finally led to your sprawling room, and for all the scandal of it being a honeymoon suite, you have to admit that Yaga had great taste. “Shouldn’t you treat your boyfriend better?”

You’re splaying yourself out on the plush mattress of the bed - the only bed, because of course the universe doesn’t bestow you with a normal work trip. But god none of those cheap motels at the trips you’d gone on with Nanami or Shoko could ever compare to this. 

Mindfully, you push away the rose petals decorating the silken sheets. “Not my problem.” Jutting a thumb towards the small private hot spring allocated for your room outside, “Sleep in the onsen. Might wanna hurry though, it’s getting dark.”

“Please?” 

“I’m kicking you out of this room altogether.”

“Pretty please.”

You feel a rush of begrudging endearment at the way he’s batting his long lashes at you. Suddenly, you’re wondering whether this is why so many at the office can’t get enough of Gojo - why everyone flocks to him as soon as he waltzes into your department for no apparent reason. Struggling to stand firm. “Hasn’t Nanami told you before that adding ‘pretty’ doesn’t work?”

Grumbling, he sets down the bags, swiftly turning around to call out, “Fine, but m’takin’ a shower first, so you better keep any expensive shampoos away or m’stealing with no regrets.”

Mind dizzy with everything from today, it’s all you can do to shuffle through your bag for your laptop. Trembling fingers deciding that if you weren’t going to think too deeply about this, might as well get some work done. 

It’s what you do for a while - to partial success - until you’re pulled out of your spiels of presentations and trying to keep Gojo’s script on subject by the sound of the running water stopping, and the bathroom door clicking open. 

And lo and behold - there stood Gojo. Shirtless. 

The very same asshole that would throw paper clips at you during meetings, and always finished off the last muffin in the break room he knew you’d been eyeing all day. Here he stood - all sharp hip bones and smooth curves of muscle that were always poorly covered by his work clothes. 

Covering almost all of the bathroom doorway with his broad shoulders, speckled with glistening droplets of water that danced tauntingly down, down, down the sharp planes of his collarbones. Down his abs, and onto a trail of white, hidden by a fluffy white towel you have to force your eyes away from. 

“Put some- put some clothes on. You- you-” you’re scrambling urgently for something near you, which unfortunately happened to be a soft cotton you’d pulled out from your bag earlier. “-you lecher.”

Wordlessly, Gojo’s stunned surprise breaks into a brilliant grin when he unfolds the canon of cloth you’d thrown his way. Humming, “You call me a lecher, but you’re the one that wants to see me in your clothes, huh?”

And sure enough - it was. It was as if the universe was playing a practical joke on you because it was your favorite t-shirt, in fact, that ragged Bleach graphic held gently between Gojo’s long, pale fingers. 

You choke out, hastily getting off the bed. “Wait- I take it back.”

“I don’t know.” Gojo teases, holding the t-shirt well over your head. And all you can do is frantically reach and swerve for it, each attempt dodged with a shit-eating grin. “You get the bed, I get this ratty t-shirt, seems like a fair trade to me, no?”

“No.”

Gojo’s face is hovering so close above yours, though, he still keeps the t-shirt safely away from you. “Then I guess this is f’me, silly girl.”

You groan, appreciating the way his breath catches in his throat when you hook an arm around his neck. Reeling him in so close while you still swipe, “No, but what you are going to get is-”

What Gojo was going to get, he never finds out. Because in your frantic effort to steal back the t-shirt you so desperately didn’t want in the hands of the bastard from sales, you don’t pay attention to that slippery pool of water forming around you two from his half-assed attempts at drying off. 

And before you know it, you’re lurching to the floor - you wince, arms held out to break your fall and-

It never happens.

Blinking your eyes open, the first thing you’re met with is what seems like miles upon miles of milky, smooth skin. Breathing in such a heady scent, it’s probably what makes your mind so melty when the realization hits you - a little too late - that you’re being held against Gojo’s chest. 

His painfully bare chest. 

“Satoru?” you breathe. Pawing at where you could feel his racing heartbeat, thumping so painfully against one of his pecs. “Are- are you okay?”

That gets you a hot laugh into your neck, followed by a long, drawn-out shudder that sends shivers down your spine. Through laughs, he manages to grit out, “You’re asking me that?”

He sounds surprised - relieved almost. Such a tender note in his tone at the lack of usual taunting in your words. 

Gojo lets you go - barely, still keeping two strong arms locked around your waist like he was afraid even the slightest distance could have you in danger all over again. “You can take the t-shirt.” He breathes, picking up the damp fabric now fallen onto the floor and pressing it into your palms. “I’m more of a Naruto guy anyway. And you can take the bed, I was jok-”

“You can take it.” 

“What? No-”

“You can.” you cut him off, giving a sidelong glance at the cramped couch tucked into a corner of your suite. Again, you’re drinking in all of him, how tall he was. How warm. How he’d probably have half his body dangling off the side of the cushions, “We can- I mean we can share. We’re adults, right? Wouldn’t want you complaining about a sore back during the contract talks anyway.”

“Worrying about me, sweetheart?” 

“No.” you scowl, pushing him away. “Now excuse you, but I have to use the bathroom since someone was hogging it earlier.”

And if you’d waited just a moment longer - maybe peaked your head out instead of scurrying inside as fast as your legs carried you - you’d have noticed that Gojo was still standing there. A fist clenched at where his heart was, face as pink as those blooming sakura outside. 

---

You didn’t sleep that night. Not one bit. 

It might partially have to do with the fact that your bed was invaded by one very gangly asshole sprawling himself all over the pillow wall you’d constructed. Or maybe to do with the aching discomfort in your joints after moving to sleep on the hard couch after only a few minutes of him getting knocking out. 

“Good morning~” Gojo’s sing-song voice rings through your verging murderous thoughts on the second day. “The sun is shining, my skin is glowing and-” His bleary eyes lock on your hunched figure across the room, looking genuinely confused as to how you got here. “-you’re on the couch?” 

“Yeah. Considered taking ya out in your sleep but then I realized the contract would be in jeopardy.”

He whines, “I’ve- I’ve never had anyone complain before.”

“They probably ran away before that.” you nod solemnly over his sputtering complaints. Stretching, content with the pop of your bones. “Don’t look at me like that, it wasn’t that bad.”

You look away when Gojo mimics your actions, sleep shirt lifting to reveal a sliver of white tufts at the hem of his boxers. He pouts, sulky eyes still locked on you, “But still, should’ve kicked me out. I would’ve expected you to instead of taking that shitty couch. Seems like something that guy would do.”

Your heart pangs - just a bit - and you let out a sharp laugh, “Fine, I’ll kick you out tonight. Maybe.” It’s genuine, it really is, and in the growing silence all Gojo can manage to do is fall back into your little familiar dance of teasing.

“Going soft on me? Y’know it’s usually the ladies crawling into my bed not out of it-” 

“Oh fuck you. I take it back, I will kick you out of the room itself. Have fun sleeping in the onsen, you smug bastard.”

He squawks in protest when you throw a cushion at him. Several, actually, just for good measure. “Mercy, woman! I’m delicate!”

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!

When Gojo falls back into the comfort of the silky soft sheets, you heave out a sigh. Making your way to the sliding doors, still fully expecting a flustered employee telling you that this was all a mistake and of course, you two weren’t booked for the honeymoon suite. 

“Yes?” you answer, eyes widening when you spot that familiar man in front of you. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh god, it’s you.” Naoya spits, gaze heating up. “Of course, I should’ve known it’s you and that idiot boyfriend of yours makin’ so much noise next door.”

Great. Perfect. Wonderful. As if this trip couldn’t get any better. 

You pinch your nose, echoing hollowly, “What do you want?”

“Exactly that. Don’t make so much noise, neighbor. I don’t care what limp dick he’s giving you-” 

“Is that all?” you ask dryly, fully knowing there’s more he’s just aching to hurl at you. Before tucking yourself further behind the door, “If that’s all then I hafta go back to that ‘limp dick’.”

“What’s this about limp dick?” Goosebumps run along your arms when you feel something soft - hot - push up from behind you. From the corner of your eye, you spy a long milky hand flex as Gojo - shirtless - cages you in the doorway, “Because it sure can’t be mine then. Won’t you agree, my girl?”

Your face burns at the knowing wink Gojo throws your way, barely managing to hasten, “Uh- yeah.”

“She doesn’t sound very convinced.” Naoya narrows his eyes at your minute expressions, knowing you uncomfortably well after so long. “Guess she’s been missing a real man, huh?”

He scoffs, and you gulp heavily when soft lips kiss a gentle trail up the side of your neck, “Well who’s the one that’s been makin’ her scream all mornin’?” Gojo tilts his head innocently, blatantly showing off a ruddy splotch from where you’d attacked him with a cushion earlier, the zipper leaving a suspicious mark. “Like I said at the train station, she can make her own choices and she’s long forgotten your sorry ass so don’t even try it, you two-toned little bastard.”

Wrapping a possessive arm around your waist, you’re easily tugged back into the safety of your suite - and into Gojo’s sculpted front. You don’t push him away as your immediate thought was to, the feeling was right - too right.

“Satoru?” you hiss once the door is slammed shut.

“Hm?” he whispers hotly into the crook of your neck. 

Still pressed up so close that you can feel the surge and dip of his chest when he breathes you in deeply. “Why are you shirtless?”

“Uh- did I ever tell you I was a method actor, sweetheart?”

---

Unfortunately, despite being in one of the most picturesque hotspots that Kyoto had to offer, a work trip - especially one with such a high profile client and his protegé - meant that the two of you spent most of the day cooped up in your room, typing away on your laptops. 

“Ugh, this sucks.” Gojo groans for about the seventh time this hour. Running a hand tiredly through his hair, “Are you always such a hardass about contracts like this? Honestly, I can’t even feel my legs and it is not in the good way-”

“You pussy.” you grumble as you chug down another can of coffee, eyes flickering to the clock at the end of the room reading 11:00PM. “You don’t see me complaining.” 

He only scoffs, “Of course ya wouldn’t complain, this shit probably gets you off. But unfortunately for those of us that have lives-” 

You click your tongue, rubbing the oncoming headache that always seems to appear when you’re near Gojo. “Yeah, because talkin’ out of your ass and being a public nuisance is such a great life.”

“C’mon now, I see you picking at that blanket - my blanket, by the way - like it insulted your entire bloodline. You’re not slick, you wanna get outta here too.” At your pointed silence, he’s kicking his legs in the air, very much the toddler you knew him to be. “That’s- that’s it I can’t-”

Before you can react, Gojo is barrelling through the sliding doors of your suite. Long legs carrying up the short pathway that led to that private hot spring.

You’re following him before you realize it, “What- what are you- oh!”

You couldn’t cover your eyes fast enough. Being gifted with a brief, obscene eyeful of pale skin - leading all the way down his naked back, and even further when he cannonballs straight into the pool of water. 

Shit, maybe this was why the others at the office loved him so much. 

And it was hard not to understand it when Gojo’s drenched head poked out from under the hot water. White strands plastered to his forehead, a blush creeping down his skin at the head, looking at you with slightly-red, damp eyes that only seemed bluer through the steam.

“Yeah yeah I know I didn’t rinse before and I know I didn’t finish our project yet but-” he grins a grin that you don’t think you could ever forget. And you don’t know whether how hot you feel is from the onsen or him. Reaching out a soaked, strong arm towards you. “-won’t you help me get out?”

You startle, clearly not having expected this request. Narrowing your eyes suspiciously as you inch closer, “Get out?” He nods eagerly, fingers intertwining softly with yours. “Fine but-”

Whatever scream you might’ve let out is swallowed up by water- then air. 

Then more very deserved yelling, of course. “Satoru what the fuck-” Your nails dig into his deltoids, sure to leave some very questionable marks but you didn’t care at this moment. Wiping away the water in your face while he holds you up easily, “I’m gonna kill you.”

“Yeah yeah, can’t kill me when you’re clinging to me like this, sweetheart.” Gojo rolls his eyes, but he makes no move to push you off. In fact, he only tightens the arm around your hips. “You looked like you needed that, the 8 hours of straight working like Yaga was havin’ you act like him.”

Somehow, you don’t feel strange about the fact that you’re being pushed up against a very painfully naked Gojo. Living out what is probably the wet dream for about half the office.

He notices, of course he does. 

“Trynna take a peek?” Gojo wiggles his brows. And when you’re trying to hide away behind your hands, he nuzzles them away, arms a bit too occupied holding you captive. Sighing dramatically, “No need to be shy, many people do. I don’t mind of course, ah the woes of being fucking hot.”

Gasping, “Fuck you.” Unbeknownst as to why, you’re laughing. Contemplating whether you should really give him a good kick down below when you choke out, “You’re an asshole, y’know?”

“I know.” he smiles. “N’ yet you still haven’t drowned me.”

“I really fuckin’ hate you.”

Why could you really fucking kiss him right now? 

“I know.”

The moment is broken only a few seconds later by some ungodly screeching you recognize to be none other than your beloved ex’s from next door. Yelling about “Shut the fuck up, if you’re gonna have onsen sex I’m calling the front lobby.”

“What? Can’t a man fuck his girl in peace?” Gojo shouts back. “Shut up just because your puny dick can’t get some, two-tone.”

That broke whatever magical spell was put on the two of you, obviously. And you were the first to run back to the suite - leaving Gojo and his nakedness alone. Very, very alone. 

He takes a bit longer to follow you, and you’re already freshened up and in bed by the time he makes his way to the bathroom - with clothes this time, fortunately for your sanity. 

Only a few minutes later, he’s nestling right next to you on the bed. You gasp in a sharp inhale at the heat of his proximity, mere millimeters away from you now. 

“Good work today, by the way.” Gojo gruffs out to your turned back, quiet words carrying over that ridiculous extra-vaulted wall of pillows, padded up with ones from the couch, too. Silver tongue stumbling over his words slightly, “For how much I complained I didn’t get to tell ya. You and I - mainly I - are gonna ace that contract tomorrow.”

There’s no taunting in his tone, not one bit. And you surprise the both of you when you murmur out shakily, “I’m worried.”

“Huh?” he chokes in disbelief. “Listen, I know I slept through that meeting one time, but I swear it was only one time. I’m a…somewhat changed man, I promise I won’t-”

“Not that.”

He pauses at your interruption. All is quiet - only the chirping of crickets outside, and the steamy buzz of nearby hot springs. 

And for the first time in the twenty-something years Gojo Satoru has wreaked havoc upon this Earth, he is rendered speechless. Wordlessly picking apart your wall of pillows - one by one, as if to give you more than enough time to stop him - to loop two strong arms around you. 

“Shut up.” he breathes. “You’ll do brilliant, silly girl.”

---

Gojo remembers the exact date he met you - probably the exact time, too. Honestly, even three whole years after that initial meeting, he can’t remember anything but that, if you asked him to recall a single meeting held that week then Gojo honestly wouldn’t have been able to tell you. 

It was a regular day spent driving poor Nanami over in the marketing department dangerously close to his fifth migraine of the day.

“You know I know I’m a valuable asset to this company Nanamin.” he chuckles, looking over where the other man was readying a sparkly Welcome! banner. “But this is all too much even for me~”

“It’s not for you.” Nanami spits, curtly. Barely sparing Gojo a glance before readying the welcome muffins, “It’s for the new head of department arriving soon today.”

And oh that piqued his interest like never before. That had all thoughts of the meeting he was currently missing flying out the window as he wondered what you would be like. Swiping away a few of those tempting muffins right out of Ichiji’s hands, he wonders. Would you be another Ichiji? Would you try and keep him under your thumb like Yaga? Hah, you could try but-

“Look I don’t know if the sales department doesn’t have food but, really?” 

What?

A shudder wracks through the oh-so-great Gojo’s body at the sound of your cool, firm tone turning to meet the source and-

Oh. Oh wow. So that’s what it’s like to have your soul impaled and buried six feet under.

It was sort of addicting.

And if Gojo thought his knees were weak at just a gorgeous glare from you - well, he was completely and utterly unprepared for when he leaned in closer to where you stood firmly. Shielding a pale, trembling Ichiji. And, honestly, with a death stare like that you couldn’t blame a guy for getting nervous! It’s all he could do to hum out a cocky, “What? Want some, sweetheart?”

“Sweetheart? What I want is you out of my department.” you furrow your brows. “Now.”

It’s all that’s said before you’re dragging him by his hand out - and, shit Gojo is so riveted by how soft your hands are that he almost forgets to be offended by the way the entire marketing department just watches and giggles at the scene playing out before them. Traitors.

You push him out of the door, “I better not see you coming back to toy with my new employees-” Heavy gaze flickering down to his name tag. “-Gojo.”

Ah, truly a woman of his dreams. 

And it honestly still felt like a dream even now - especially now - when you’re stood in front of him on the third day in Kyoto. Fingers messing meticulously with your hair as you check your reflection in the mirror, smoothing down your new red dress. “God, I hope it isn’t too much. How do I look?”

Perfect, he wants to say. 

But instead he nudges your shoulder in the booth of your seat, settling for an obnoxious, “Alright, not as good as me, though.” Gojo takes delight in the way you give his arm a punch, smile a lot easier than before now. 

“As if, you can’t even tie this properly. Here-” your fingers fiddle deftly with his slightly crooked tie. “Fixed it, you big baby.”

He grins, “If you wanted to get your hands on me then you should’ve- oh wait you already have, haven’t you? I remember that someone bypassed her own lil’ pillow wall last night.”

“Shut up.” you give him a tight warning. “They’re here.”

Honestly, there was only one thing worse than seeing old Gakuganji - that is, the sight of his sniveling protegé following him right after. Except- 

“Two-tone?” 

“Y-you!”

There’s a tense silence between the three of you in the exquisite onsen dining hall, one that almost makes you want to jump up and bolt back to your room because this can’t be real. Surely, this can’t be-

“I see the three of you are already acquainted?” Gakuganji’s strained, aged voice cuts through your whirlwind of thoughts. “Sit, sit, Naoya. That only makes things easier.”

As a fuming Naoya and an oblivious Gakuganji take their seats in front of the two of you, you feel the undeniable pressure of long, warm fingers squeezing your own. Reassuring. And it makes you flash the two men your best, most polished business smile, “So, about the contract.”

---

“I’m going to throw up.”

“Satoru.”

“No, I will throw up. And that will not be good for my reputation.”

“Satoru, if you throw up I’m beating your ass.”

He narrows his eyes at your heated whisper, matching you with a low, “Damn keep it for the bedroom sweetheart. We still hafta wait till Gakuganji comes back with his decision.” 

“Ahem!”

It’s that annoyed, grating faux cough that drags you and Gojo out of your little world - back to reality in which no, unfortunately while your primary client has gone off to take an important business call regarding your contract, you were left to babysit his protegé.

“Yes, Naoya.” you give him a dry grin. It was nearing well into late night at this point, and most of the other visitors had cleared out except for the reserved table you were sitting in. “Do you want to be beat up, too?”

He only points an accusing finger at the two of you, “Don’t play games with me you hear. I’ve already got you figured out, coming here on a business trip and dating your coworker all the same-” Both you and Gojo raise a brow at this, what an idiot. “-you two will be fired for this.”

You catch Gojo’s eye and try not to burst out laughing, “As if. And trust me, I wouldn’t be here if I knew that you were Gakuganji’s new protegé.”

“Not because the guy you have to be here with is the same one you told me you hated back then?” he spits. “Honestly, you’d have been better off with me than this ‘pompous, no-good nepo baby asshole’ as you loved to put it.”

And you knew that Gojo was aware of your little rivalry - hell, he was an active participant, more than happy to rile you up every time. But that still didn’t stop you from tensing up when you spared a glance at the man beside you. 

Surprised to see that unapologetic smirk on his face, “Of course she did.” Looking down at you with what you swore was such unimaginably deep fondness in his eyes. “I probably imagine she told you all the funny ways she wanted to get back at me, too? Banning me from the marketing department? Holding an anti-Gojo campaign? Strangling?” Gojo takes Naoya’s shocked silence as enough of an answer, “Guess what, she did hate me, probably still can’t stand me. Very understandably so, because she’s hot as fuck when she’s mad.”

Despite his furrowed brow and the angry slash of his mouth, Naoya can’t stop himself from blurting out, “W-well how did you-”

“We fuck it out, of course.”

And perhaps for the one time on this entire trip, the universe smiles down at you. You find yourself sighing in relief at the sight of Gakuganji nearing your table, evidently done with his phone call. Thank fuck, you weren’t ready for a fight to break out and this dress was too expensive to ruin. 

“Seems you three are getting along well.” the old man drones out, and by the tone of his voice you genuinely can’t tell whether he was joking or not. Turning towards you and Gojo, “Well, after that very thorough presentation and careful consideration with the board at our Kyoto branch, we have all come to a unanimous decision.” You wait with bated breath for his next few words, “Where do we sign?”

Naoya stands in his seat, “But- but, sir.” He cringes, as furious as the last time you’d seen him a year ago. “You can’t sign off on this deal- not with these scumming, absolute little shits.”

“Naoya.” Gakuganji’s voice carries a warning. “You are dismissed.”

Ah, Gojo chuckles inwardly, exactly where he wanted him. 

It seemed like a blur after that - a blur of signed contracts and Gojo making faces at an ashen-faced Naoya behind Gakuganji’s back, of being told that the two of you simply “must visit” their offices in Kyoto one day - much to your exes absolute torture. To which Gojo had replied with a smug, “Of course, my girlfriend and I will. Won’t we, sweetheart?” Just loud enough that Naoya - who’d been banned to a nearby table - could fume over. 

And it’s how you found yourself pulling a giggly Gojo by his lapels back to your suite, hasty and desperate. Tripping over one another as you stumble in. 

“Easy there on the merchandise, sweetheart.” he jests, but it sounds so strained even to him. “Can’t break our streak and kill each other on the last day now, can we?”

Your laughter dies down, “Hey, Satoru?”

“Oh no…”

“Why did you call me your girlfriend even at the end back then?”

His brows scrunch up, pleading almost. He chokes out, “Just- you- I just-” Flicking a calculated finger right in the middle of your forehead, “You think too much, did you know that? Hate to see this pretty face like this, did you see his reaction?”

“Oh my god yes did you see his face, Satoru?” you’re pressing him against the wall to steady yourselves. Feeling so drunk off the evening and him. “Naoya looked like he was going to explode right then and there. We did so good.”

“What did I tell, ya? I always know everything, silly girl.” Two big arms wrap around yours in a congratulatory hug - or, at least, what you think is a congratulatory hug. And if his palms dip just a bit lower than your waist - if this was just a bit inappropriate - neither of you say anything. “Mhm. Don’t even know what you dated that fool in the first place, he’s not even in your league.” 

You scoff, “Gee thanks.”

“No no, not in that way, don’t ever think in that way, stupid.” A long index comes up to tilt your chin up to meet his greedy gaze. “You’re too gorgeous for him. Besides, he spoke like a man who couldn’t even find the clit.”

“Well- he did find it.” you relish in that deepening furrow of Gojo’s brow, the way the muscles in his jaw tick just right. “But wanna hear a secret?” Those soft baby hair at the nape of his neck raise when you’re whispering in his ear, barely even waiting for his dazed nod. “He still never made me cum.”

“...Never?”

“Never.”

There’s a beat of silence, one. Two. 

Shit. 

You’d long expected Gojo’s smart mouth to make some kind of insulting joke by now. And you’re halfway through wondering whether you’d overshared too much, untangling your arms from his vice-like embrace before-

“I would.” he rasps, breaths ragged. You’re tilting your head in confusion when he repeats cockily, “I would’ve made you cum, y’know. How could I not?”

There’s a snarky little part of you that makes you quick a brow, a sultry smirk playing on your lips. “Is that an offer?”

Gojo’s arms loop around you tight - almost too tight, you could almost hear your poor bones popping in protest. “It’s a promise.”

Oh that’s all you wanted to hear right about now. And he can fucking see the goosebumps that make their way down your exposed shoulders, he can practically hear that syrupy sweet tone that was really not good for his sanity. 

“Prove it, Satoru.”

His lips are crashing against yours like they’re magnetized - and it’s nothing like what you’d imagine kissing Gojo Satoru would’ve been like. Nothing suave, shallow. It’s sloppy, a mess of teeth and lips and his tongue tasting every inch of your candied lips like he couldn’t get enough. Like he didn’t even want to breathe for fear of losing out on your pretty mouth. 

“Fuck-” Gojo hisses, delicate strings of spit snapping as he pulls away ever-so-slightly to take in the delicious sight of you all glossy eyed with swollen lips. “Fuck you’re so beautiful. You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this.”

Kissing you over and over like he couldn’t get enough. Like he didn’t want to get enough, you’re moaning when Gojo slips his tongue past the seam of your lips. Addicted to the distinct taste of him and those cheap cherry lollipops you always caught him sucking on in the break room.

He’s drawing back in a way that has him drinking in your soft noises, big palms kneading your body over your dress. 

“Sa- Sato-” you’re gasping out when he flips you over to press you up against the wall. Assaulting your bruised lips with heated peck after peck. “What do you- mean-”

He groans, lips moving to kiss down the quivering column of your throat, “Shut up- Just shut up and kiss me. God, for how much I love that mouth of yours, you talk way too much, sweetheart.”

And that was really rich coming from him - but you don’t get to snark back at him. Because no sooner are the words out of your mouth that Gojo decides he’s had enough of playing nice - that is, if he was in the first place. 

Immediately fiddling towards that cold metal zipper in the back, gliding down the red fabric right along with your bra- shit, when did he even unclip it?

“You-” you sputter, the cool chill of the bedroom pebbles your sensitive nipples. The dawning feeling that this absolute thorn at your side might be much more than just talk has your thighs pressing together. Leveling him with a narrow look, “You are such a whore, aren’t you?”

He flashes you a sheepish grin, large palms groping your tits. “Would ya believe me if I told you it was from how many times I’d imagined this before?”

“Absolutely not.”

This earns you a sharp smack! gifted onto the fat of your ass, the five pads of Gojo’s fingers burning onto where your dress was hiking up. 

“Always need to talk back, don’t you?” he spits, shoving a knee between your two legs. Such an innocently handsome grin splashing across his face at the soft moan you let out, grinding purposefully against that damp mound of your needy cunt. “Why won’t you ever hah- believe me?” He has one hand shoving your dress down, down, down. The other dragging your sloppy hips down his muscled thigh, “You wanna hear a secret? Stick your tongue out f’me like a good girl now, sweetheart.” 

And oh you wanted to fight back. To outright refuse to comply so brattily, but it’s all you can do to nod blearily, feeling so fucking dirty with the way you’re letting your tongue loll out. Whining when Gojo smushes your cheeks together into an obscene pucker, into the perfect target for him to spit once. Twice. 

“Yeah, take it- that’s my girl. A secret for a secret, right?” Gojo smiles so darkly, swiping away that thick splatter of syrupy saliva dredged up on the corner of your mouth. Intentional, of course. His words are low but clear, unable to have you mistaking them for anything else when he says, “That time I slept through the whole meeting? Wasn’t sleepin’.”  He bites down on your earlobe, licking lightly. “S’just, I happened to see that cute new skirt you were wearing that day, it was so short- so fuckin’ tight. Couldn’t bear to show my face, not after I’d just spent the past few hours with my hand wrapped around my cock, wondering all the sweet things I could do to you in it.”

You’re gasping, “You’re so fucking filthy.”

“Yeah yeah.” he purrs, toying with the hem of your now dress, the red cloth now dangling somewhere at your thighs. “And don’t pretend you’re not just as dirty, hardass. Actin’ all prudish when ya dress like this underneath.”

As if to prove his point, the back of one of his fingers is gliding across where your lacy black panties were peeking out. Groaning at the sopping wet fabric, “Yeah, just as dirty as I thought.”

With his little hypothesis confirmed, it’s all that Gojo has to do to pick you up with one arm hooking under your already trembly thighs. You’re keening when he plants another solid smack on the fat of your ass, “Satoru!”

“Ohh, I love that. Say it again.” he murmurs, walking slowly to the edge of your shared bed. Savoring that feeling of your drooling cunt seeping through to paint a small dark patch on his suit. “I said, say it again.”

All it takes is another harsh slap against your ass, and a honeyed drag of Gojo’s name for him to splay you out like some slut on the soft silken sheets. You find yourself pulling him back by his broad shoulders when he takes the moment to admire just how gorgeous you looked. Even better than any daydream that mind of his could think of. 

“Sa-toru-” you mewl, and he only licks his lips as if in a daze. Not knowing where to look - at that needy, already-cockdrunk glaze over your eyes, at the way your flimsy dress wrapped around the plush of your thighs, at that glistening little patch on the plump mound of your cunt. So mouthwatering. “Satoru- Sa- Toru!”

That makes him snap out of his little hypnosis. “What did you call me?” he breathes. 

You bat your lashes deceivingly innocently up at him, “Sato-”

“No.” he’s cutting you off, Adam’s apple bobbing with the heavy gulp he takes. Thumbing at your puffy lips as if to drag the same words out of you - have them going straight to his achy cock once more. “That other one. Don’t play stupid with me, silly girl, you know exactly what I’m talking about.” 

Oh, you did. 

And you’re feeling the way your dripping pussy clenches with anticipation when you whine out that little nickname once more. “Toru, please.” Adding a little flair to have Gojo’s rosy lips fall into a soft oh! choking on a ragged low hiss when a hand of his subconsciously goes down to squeeze his bulging erection. 

“Oh yes, m’name sounds so fuckin’ cute on your lips.” he groans. The sheets below you two rustling with movement when he shuffles urgently downwards, “Sounds so fucking good it makes me wanna-” 

RIP!

“-know if she sounds it out just as pretty as you.”

You’re still reeling from the tatters of what remained of your favorite red dress being thrown unapologetically onto the tatami mats below. Huffing in irritation, “Satoru, if you’re ngh- dead if you don’t replace that-”

He’s shutting you up with another quiet smack onto your heated skin - this time at your shamefully spread inner thighs, the edges of his padded fingers just barely touching on your swollen folds. “Yeah yeah, I’ll buy ya the whole fuckin’ store if I have to.” Before hovering so close you could feel every hitch of his hot breath on your beading cunt, “And m’gonna make it so you don’t dare call me that again.”

You don’t have a response to that - and anything you might’ve taunted back is being knocked out of your mouth. The only thing leaving it being slurred little whimpers of Gojo’s name when he licks a long, languid stripe up your puffy slit. 

“Oh, look at that.” he chuckles. Pushing apart your thighs to get a nice greedy look at every drop of your sweet sweet juices glistening in the dim lighting. “Think she’s more mouthy than you, if tha’s even possible, heh.”

His long, eager tongue is slurping up every syrupy drop of your slick. Again. And again. And again and again and-

“Fuck- Toru.” your fingers find their way weaving into his soft strands when the very tip of his soft tongue finds its way just past your folds. Arching your spine off the plush bed needily like some slut, “Need you to- hngh- go deeper.”

The only response you’re getting is a sultry, smug grin being spread across your pussy lips. Feeling everything from the quirk of his cupid’s bow, to that dimple at the edge of Gojo’s smirk, “Knew you were needy, but this- this is fucking amazing.”

“Guess you’re all bark no bite, huh?” you pout, voice teetering into teasingly whiny. And oh how you love the way that wipes all the cockiness from Gojo’s face. “Even Naoya was able to actually eat me out the way I-”

It’s like it killed him to hear those goading words from you - and something snaps before he’s shoving that pretty face of his back nose-deep into your addictive pussy. 

Slotting his tongue up and down your hot slit. Up and down up and down up and-

“F-fuck, oh Toru-” you squeal when he wastes no time pushing past that snug little ring of resistance to reach deep into your gummy walls. Barely even giving you any warning - Gojo’s eyes roll to the back of his head at how sinfully tight you were squeezing him. “Shit how are you in so deep-”

And that petty, petty little part of him doesn’t answer, instead gliding up a determined thumb up to draw methodical circles on your throbbing clit. Fast. So so sloppy with the way he was letting your juices dribble past his knuckles, his wrist, forming a glossy sheen all the way down to the sheets. Matching the ruthless cadence of the way he was fucking your ravaged cunt the way he wished he could do with his rock-hard cock right now. 

“Ah!” you gasp, when one swipe of his tongue sends jolts of pure white-hot pleasure running up your spine. And that’s all Gojo has to hear before he’s attacking your hidden sweet spot over and over. “F-fuck s’too good. Fuckin’ hate how your big mouth is- ngh- so good at this-”

That causes a husky rasp of laughter to bubble its way out of Gojo’s throat, and he’s pinning your wildly bucking hips down with one arm. “Don’t you dare run away now. You’re so cute when you’re cockdrunk and truthful like this, silly girl.”

The vibrations have you moaning out a feverish Toru! Toru! Toru! louder than ever, wrenching out of you with every crash of his soft tongue against your sensitive spots. Every harsh swivel on your clit, just harder on the tip, softer at the curve. 

“Yeah- yeah yeah yeah, say my name like that.” he gasps, spitting out hissy profanities into your velvety walls. You were squeezing him so tight it was almost difficult to bully his tongue into your plushy walls. To keep up his mean staccato - but fuck, it didn’t matter if his fingers were cramping up, it didn’t matter if his tongue was getting tired. Because Gojo Satoru was one stubborn man. “Louder-”

“T-Toru!”

“No no,” you’re jolting at the feeling of something cool and glossy hitting your cunt in a harsh glob. Gojo barely wastes any time thumbing his spit in to mix with the mess made down below, letting your ears ring with such obscene squelches that have your cheeks burning. “Hear this, sweetheart?” As if there’s anything else you could hear, he’s pulling out those sultry sounds from you. “She’s louder than you, n’ that makes me so sad-” You fuck up further and further into Gojo’s tongue, eyes locked with his down in his favorite position between your legs. “-my girl can be ah- loud f’me, right? Say my name, say it so the whole fuckin’ onsen hears.”

“Toru—”

He’s taunting you in that same honeyed tone, “Louder.” Murmuring even deeper into your cunt, “C’mon, louder. Tell it to me.”

“Toru! Fuck- m-close-” It’s probably the last understandable sentence you’re managing to moan out before you finally cum. Wave after wave of such filthy pleasure hitting you, it’s all you can do to tighten your grip on his hair. Angling and using leverage to grind your hips down deeper, jolting with every flick of his tongue sending stars behind your eyelids. And Gojo, satisfied, shuts up to let you ride his face through your high. Using him, just dragging your sloppy pussy all over his tongue, his mouth. Over and over.

“Jus’ a bit more-” you hear him whisper out so sweetly over your ringing ears. Suddenly, your limp hands fall to the sides of that drenched pool you’ve made. And yet Gojo is still going, still meshing his bruised lips so messily against your own, making out with your cunt in a way that has him so depraved. “Just some more, pretty girl- you taste so addictive.”

Big fat tears of overstimulation prick at your eyes, and you’re sobbing out, “W-wait- fuck m’too sensitive for that.”

“You can handle it, you’re a big- fuck- a big girl, aren’t ya?” he groans, eyes rolling to the back of his head with every taste of your pussy. Surging forwards despite the hold you have on his hair, “Hold on- just want a bit more- you don’t know how long-”

The pout he’s giving you once you have to just drag him away like a man starved, fighting against the grip you have on him. 

But oh Gojo looks so pretty, cloudy bangs pulled back to reveal his delicately blushing face, lips painted in a glossy sheen of your slick. Slobbering down, down, down to glisten across the bottom half of his face. Looking so bruised with how greedy he was, almost the same color as those cherry lollipops he loved so much. And his eyes - fuck, his eyes - glassy and half-lidded, hazy with a sheen that told you he was already completely and utterly pussydrunk out of his sanity. 

“Toru…” you start, unable to tear your eyes away from the way he moans at the mere sound of your voice. “Your turn.”

It’s a long endeavor to get rid of Gojo’s pants - or, at least that’s what it feels like. 

Hooking a still-shaky leg over his toned waist, you’re slamming his muscular frame down onto the mattress. Buttons hitting the floor when you all but tear his overpriced button-up off - because, really, it’s not you two if one of you doesn’t get your revenge somehow.

“These- these damn belts.” you scoff, too-eager fingers fumbling with the metal latches of Gojo’s belt. “Why does it have to have so many-”

“You’re so cute when you’re eager this way, silly girl.” he’s cupping the side of your face. Free hand easily unbuckling his belt, and the heady metallic sounds are enough to have your cunt so needy. “Like this-”

You’re gasping when he finally takes his formal dress pants off - along with those uselessly precum-soaked boxers. Sticky and leaving a lewd trail of glossy down his milky, sculpted thighs. 

And oh if you thought Gojo was pretty before then he was a fucking masterpiece right now. All tall, lean muscle that rippled with every minute movement. Curves and dips of sculpted skin being accentuated so perfectly against the dim lightning in your suite. 

So infuriating at how that couldn’t give you a better look at his massive, swollen length. So long and girthy, hefty where his fat head was leaking silky precum all over his abs. Such a delicate pink matching his lips at the head, dancing down, down his thick, prominent veins to those tufts of soaked white at his sharp pelvis. Fuck, he was so big - could you actually take him?

Wrapping your soft palm around Gojo’s furiously throbbing fast, you’re letting him coat you hand in a sinful sheen. And you can’t help but wonder what he’d taste like, too-

“Hold on right there, my dirty girl.” your slowly dipping head is tilted firmly by Gojo. “As much as hngh- fuck you’re squeezing me so tight- as much as this has been fuck- all I’d dreamt of since that office ice cream party. I just know m’gonna cum as soon as you put that smart mouth on me, sweetheart.” He’s kissing gently at your lips, sucking on your lower lip. “And I just know you’re never gonna fuck– let me live that down.”

You smirk, “Not gonna live that ice cream party thing, either, Toru.”

“He flashes you such a devilish smile, steadying your hips to straddle him messily. Spreading your legs on either side of his weepy tip. “Oh, fuck off.”

You hiss when you’re feeling the hot kiss his head is planting on your sensitive pussy lips, “Fuck you.”

“No.” Gojo chuckles, powerful thighs curling up to plant his feet on the mattress. Waiting. Anticipating. “I’m fucking you-”

It’s barely even a warning - laughable, really - how that’s all he’s gifting you with before bullying the very tip of his fat cock into your snug cunt in a sloppy hit. 

He groans, eyes fighting to roll to the back of his head but caught so so greedily on the way you swollen pussy lips are being spread so obscenely to swallow every single inch after fucking inch. Disappearing down into your gooey walls, Gojo’s breath hitches at the first sign of resistance from your too-tight entrance. 

“C’mon now.” he moans gutturally. Hips fucking up in a jagged, slow grind, trying so desperately to plunge himself in deeper. “C’mon c’mon come- on-” 

“Toru!” you’re gasping when he slides his soaked length even deeper. Feeding in to the way your gummy walls want more more more more- “You’re so fuckin’ hngh- impatient.”

“Me?” he’s asking, voice a few octaves higher and dripping with the audacity to sound so genuinely in disbelief. “You’re- you’re saying that I’m impatient. Oh, sweetheart-” you blink back the lusty haze in your eyes to look down at Gojo fully, spying that upwards curl of his lips that you knew didn’t mean well for you right now. “-look down.”

Your eyes widening as you’re whirling downwards to spy the way he’s not even halfway in yet. But that’s not all, no, your poor pussy is just absolutely bulging around his girthy shaft, struggling, stretched to their limits - yet still quivering with the effort to try and milk something delicious out of him. 

And the moment that tiny, shaky gasp leaves your mouth, his sharp hip bones are just crashing into yours. Toned hips lifting off of the bed to drive his achy cock into your drooling cunt. One hand kneads and gropes the flesh of your ass to steady you down, down, down-

“Toru-” you’re moaning, like a mantra, once his angry tip is gliding across the spongy wall of your cervix. The stretch too much, Gojo’s cock so thick in his girth that you could feel each and every sweet spot of yours being dragged down his length. “F-fuck, Toru!”

He chuckles, gritting out through those long, determined grinds. Having himself now fully stuffed inside your cunt, heavy balls kissing at the curve of your ass, pubic hair scratching up against your needy clit.  “Can’t hah- keep quiet, can you? Fuckin’ love how needy she is- how needy you are.”

“Sh-shut up-” you mewl, narrowing your eyes. 

“Hah- I would.” Gojo grins out so smugly. Tilting you precariously on top of him like some ragdoll to easily give your g-spot a mean crash of his greedy head. “But you can’t.”

And of course, he’s proving his own point by bouncing you in a heady, fast tandem, abs burning with the ache to fuck you so rude. Gojo spits once on two of his long, slender fingers, letting this lewd coating smear down to his knuckles before dipping them down to spread your puffy folds even farther. 

“Fuuuck, jus’ look at you.” he rasps, the deep baritone of his voice having your gummy walls mold even harder onto the shape of his cock. Gojo throws his had back, twitching balls squeezing harder with every increasing smack against your ass. “Shit shit shit- how that bastard had you hngh- all to himself and didn’t make th-this pretty pussy come everyday I’ll never understand.” He’s pulling you down with a hand to the back of your neck, tightening, “So don’t we hah- rub it in his ugly face?”

Shit, the thought has you grinding and stuttering your hips down to meet Gojo’s unforgiving cadence, arching your body into him like you couldn’t get enough. 

“You just got- hngh- so impossibly harder at that.” you push his bucking shoulders down onto the mattress. Now fully riding him just as much as he was fucking you into the mattress so animalistically. “And you call me needy.”

He scoffs, “I’m not the only one.” The fingers still lingering on your cunt moving to toy with your pulsing sensitive nub, teasing and toying your clit between two fingers. “Can you just h-hear how loud this pussy of yours is? Bet he can hear too.”

And it was true, the wet smacks were only getting louder. Sloppier. Squelching with the push and pull of Gojo’s pounding cock in the same maddening staccato. 

But still - you weren’t going to be compliant that easily. Feeling the familiar tingles of your high edging closer, you wanted to break him just one more time. “Nah- I don’t think he can.”

“Oh you’re gonna regret that, silly girl.”

In all of two seconds - maybe even less than - Gojo’s using his immense strength to his advantage. Flipping the two of you over so your back is hitting the soaked sheets, droopy legs thrown over your shoulder to plow into you in such a mean mating press he has you folded into. 

The new change in angle makes it even easier for him to be kissing your g-spot. Bruising. Branding his name onto your sweet spots - your cervix - so you wouldn’t forget. So you can’t forget.

“F-fuck, Toru-” you’re letting out staggered gasps every time he rams his hefty cock into you. Fingers still relentless on your clit - playing around with it as much as he was playing with your sanity. “I’m so-”

“What was that?” he interrupts through sloppy, stuttering thrusts. Free hand cupping his ear so goadingly, ‘Can’t hear you, sweetheart.“

“Toru-” you’re squealing over his rapidly accelerating movements. Fighting to babble out coherently, “Toru m’close-”

“Louder.” he’s grinning meanly. Hips burning with slowly fatiguing effort because he’s so close, your slick walls are massaging him so tight. But where’s the fun if there’s no teasing? “Still can’t hear ya.”

Your voice is shot at this point, “Toru, m’gonna cum-”

“Louder or m’not gonna let you.”

“Toru! Fuck fuck fuck m’cumming.” It hits him before those loud moans are even leaving your mouth, because your velvety walls are clamping down so snug. Molding to the shape of him, your heels digging even deeper on his shoulder, nails raking red red patterns down the pale skin of his biceps. “M’cumming- ngh-”

And fuck each and every slam of his hips sends electricity up your spine, bullying you through your high. Dragging it out till you think you could go insane. 

“God- fuck you’re so-” It’s the only hoarse grunt leaving Gojo’s lips before he’s spilling thick rope after rope of seed into the awaiting channel of your pussy. “So perfect f’me.”

Two hands of his lace above your head, pushing you so impossibly deep down his thick hilt. He’s cumming and cumming so hard like he never has in his life, body out of control with the way he’s stuffing you with every drop of seed. 

He shivers at the overspill, gushing out of the corners of your ravaged cunt, painting a creamy ring around his tired base. Too much. And yet mindlessly thrusting even sloppier, catching your lips in a lazy, passionate kiss. “At least we didn’t fuckin’ kill each other, hm?”

You smile into it, slotting your hips languidly, “Didn’t do hgnh- the neighbors any favors, either.”

“It’s Naoya, who fucking cares? ‘Limp dick’ my ass.” And oh how Gojo loved that sweet sweet smile gracing your lips, the way your eyes light up all because of him. He can’t help but drawl out, “Y’know…since we were locked up in this room for all three days, and have most of the day tomorrow, how about you and I actually do some sightseeing here before we leave?” 

You nod eagerly, tightening your legs around his waist and shit, this might just be heaven. “We need a break after that contract, s’gonna be so fun.”

He’s connecting his sticky forehead with yours, “Of course it will be, I’ll be there.” Babbling deliriously, drunk off the way you’re leveling him with another one of your familiar glares, “And we can use Yaga’s care, too, he never checks-”

“Toru…” you warn when Gojo cuts himself off with a gasp. Quirking an irritated brow - as you usually did when you’re with him, “Don’t tell me you’ve been dipping into Yaga’s card, he’ll kill you if he finds out. That’s if I don’t kill you first.”

“...”

“...Toru…”

“Is this a bad time to tell you that I booked us this suite with it too?”

A/N. My red flag is making Naoya the shitty ex in every piece of writing I do (or is that a green flag hmmm?)

Plagiarism not authorized.

[sapphire-writes]

Beyond The Play

college!Art x college!Reader

summary: Tashi needs some time alone with her man, which leaves you without a room for the night.

word count: 3.8k

rating: mature/explicit/18+

warnings: alcohol, fingering, dry humping, p in v sex with a condom, light praise, titty sucking, there's only one bed oh no!!

a/n: thanks for all the love on my first Challengers fic! hope you enjoy this one!

“You are so fucked,” Art says, taking another sip of his beer.

“Shut up.”

“He’s right,” Tashi agrees, sighing heavily, glancing at her cards.

You’re all sitting on the floor of your and Tashi’s dorm room, half-empty beer bottles littering the floor between you. You’d been playing poker for the past hour or so, swindling more of Patrick and Art’s money. It’d become a Friday night habit of yours, card games and beer with Patrick and Art. Patrick was always a maybe, he only came to visit his girlfriend a couple times a semester. 

But you, Art, and Tashi were always a solid trio. Tashi and Art had met through tennis of course, and you had met Art through Tashi after rooming with her freshman year of college. You’d become fast friends, and roommates for the next several years. You got along with Patrick well enough, you had to once he and Tashi started dating.

You could tell that had been a sore spot for Art, at least for a while. You’d suspected he’d had a thing for Tashi, and fire and ice hadn’t been the same since. You’d once asked Tashi about it and she’d only shrugged. Even though she was with Patrick for now, you knew Tashi had only one true love. 

Whatever Art felt for Tashi was easily molded into friendship, and the three of you became nearly inseparable. Which was good, even if you may or may not have developed some feelings of your own for the blond tennis player. 

But your friendship was more important. Those feelings could be pushed aside.

“God damn it,” Patrick curses, “I fold.”

Tashi snickers, revealing her cards and Patrick swears once more. 

“I need a smoke,” Patrick says, standing and leaning across Tashi’s bed to the open window.

“Oh no you don’t,” Tashi says, standing at lightning speed, “Outside, we are not getting in trouble for this.”

She grabs Patrick by the shirt collar, dragging him off the bed. He dramatically chokes, but lets her drag him towards the door.

“Art come on,” Patrick insists, reaching for his best friend.

“What? No, I wanna stay,” Art says, sandy hair falling in front of his eyes, “You don’t need a babysitter—”

“Yes I do,” Patrick insists, “C’mon five minutes, I swear.”

The boys tumble into the hall and you can hear their voices fading as they make their way outside. You stand from the floor, gathering up some beer bottles, and folding up the empty pizza box.

“Hey, d’you think you could sleep somewhere else tonight?” Tashi asks, brown eyes wide, “It’s Patrick’s last night, and y’know we really haven’t had any alone time.”

Your chest constricts at the thought. You totally get where she’s coming from but, it’s your room too. The thought of sleeping in the common area is less enticing. 

“Or at least just for a couple of hours,” Tashi backtracks, seeing your expression, “Just so we can—”

“Yeah, Tash it’s fine,” you tell her, swallowing your annoyance. Tashi’s been nothing but thoughtful and kind as a roommate, and friend. It’s an inconvenient favor, but nothing crazy. “I’ll get out of your hair for a couple of hours.”

“You’re the best,” she says, kissing your cheek, “Seriously, I owe you one.”

“You sure do,” you tell her, “I expect full payment for this.”

“Do you mean a trip to the movies with slurpees and popcorn?” Tashi asks, raising her eyebrows. 

“With extra butter,” you clarify and point at her, “You’re not cheaping out on me.”

“I’d never,” she insists, feigning seriousness before breaking into a grin. 

You finish helping Tashi clean up and begin your excommunication from your room. Walking down the hallway you bump into Patrick and Art on their way back from Patrick’s smoke break.

“What’re you doing out here? You start smoking?” Art asks as Patrick keeps walking past you, picking up the pace, “Hey where…”

“Party’s over,” you tell him, as Patrick turns the corner, eager to return to Tashi now that she’s alone.

Art frowns, confused.

“But we were—”

“Art,” you cut him off and place your hands on his shoulders, shaking him slightly, “Party’s over. Unless you’re eager to be a third.”

Art’s cheeks flush and he glances away, forcing out a laugh. Something tugs at your heart watching his half-smile appear. 

“Uh yeah ... .no thanks,” he says and you pat his shoulders before releasing them, “Wait but where are you going to go?”

You shrug, “I haven’t thought that far ahead.”

“You can’t just wander around campus, it’s like 2 am,” Art says, beckoning you with his hand, “Come back to my room, at least till they’re done.”

“Really?” you ask, “Cause if you’re tired I can just—”

“Don’t be silly,” Art says, poking your shoulder, “C’mon.”

Art’s room is in a separate building on campus, about a five-minute walk from you and Tashi’s building. Art is lucky enough to have a single; you’d been there a handful of times before class or practice. He keeps his room neat, aside from some clothes scattered on the floor from quick changes before practice. You smile as he hurriedly picks them up, throwing them into a hamper in his closet.

His bed is unmade, navy sheets messy as though he’d just woken up. 

“Sorry bout the mess,” he says, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck.

“I’m not judging, you’re cleaner than most guys I’ve met,” you tell him and he laughs. 

Suddenly, it hits you how late it is, sleepiness hitting you like a train as you yawn. This triggers Art’s yawn and the pair of you stand awkwardly in front of each other. 

“Um,” Art says suddenly, “It’s late.”

“Yeah,” you agree, stomach sinking, “I can just—”

“You should stay.”

You’re silent at that. You stare at him, as he nervously plays with the hem of his t-shirt, waiting for your reaction. You’re not sure what to say. It’s fine, right? Just a friend, helping out another friend.

A friend whom you have a big fat annoying crush on.

“I mean….it’s just late and you’re tired and who knows when they’ll be done.”

“I don’t have anything with me,” you tell him, voice sounding softer, meeker than you’d like.

“Oh, here I got you,” he says, walking to his dresser. He shuffles through the drawer a moment before revealing a shirt and clean boxers, “Just did laundry today. You can….you can change in the bathroom. I even have an extra toothbrush.”

You roll your eyes at that, taking the clothes from him. 

“Okay,” you agree.

“Bathroom’s right there.”

You nod, quickly making your way across the room and into the bathroom. You close the door and quickly change, finding Art’s spare toothbrush unopened in a goodie bag from the dentist shoved into a spare drawer. You quickly wash your face, brush your teeth, and change into his clothes. The shirt is baggy, with Stanford Men’s Tennis written across the front. It smells like him, like his detergent and his cologne and you can’t help but greedily inhale.

When you exit the bathroom, Art dips in, leaving the door open as he brushes his teeth. You place your clothes in a pile on his desk, awkwardly waiting for him. When he emerges, he’s wearing only his boxers and a gray t-shirt.

“I’ll take the floor,” Art says, his face turning beet red, “You can have the bed.”

“Art no,” you insist, “It’s your room. I’ll take the floor, it’s only fair—”

“Yeah that is not happening,” he says, satisfied smirk on his face, “Tashi’d kill me if she found out I made you sleep on the floor.”

“We could…..” you wet your lips, struggling to get the words out, “We could share the bed?”

Art watches you, his eyes wide. You watch his Adam’s apple bobs as he contemplates your question. Suddenly your pulse quickens, and embarrassment floods your body, and your face flushes. You turn away from him, scooting onto the bed.

“I mean only—”

“—if you’re comfortable,” Art finishes and you shut your mouth. You both giggle at the overlapping sentences.

“Yeah, I’m comfortable, Art,” you tell him, patting the space beside you, “Come on.”

Art moves onto the bed and you push closer to the wall. He’s so close when he lies down beside you, stretching his arm above your head. You’ve grown accustomed to the moonlit room and at this distance, you can almost count each eyelash that frames his blue eyes. 

“Is this okay?” he whispers, minty breath wafting over your face, making your head spin.

“Mhmm,” is all you can manage as the heat of his body warms you under the covers.

He’s silent then and you lay there for a moment, watching each other, listening to your shared breathing. Art chuckles then.

“What?”

“It’s just…” he trails off, “Nothing, it’s silly.”

“What is it?”

“You’re the first girl I’ve shared a bed with,” he admits, shyly glancing away from your gaze.

“Art Donaldson,” your tone is teasing, “I find that rather hard to believe.”

“It’s true,” he insists, brows furrowing together, “I mean….I’m not saying—wait” he wets his lips nervously, “I’m not a virgin—”

Your eyebrows raise, a smile curling at the corner of your lips. No, you did not doubt that. 

“Not that anything’s wrong with that, I just—wait and not to imply—”

“Art!” you cut him off, reaching forward and pressing your fingers against his lips, “I’m kidding. Don’t freak out.”

“M’not,” he mumbles, lips moving against your fingers.

“I’m fucking with you, Donaldson,” you whisper, taking your hand back, “I know you’re a gentleman.”

“Thank Christ,” he says with an exaggerated exhale causing you to giggle once more. He watches you, a smile on his face, eyes flickering to your lips.

Your face heats up as he wets his lips. Suddenly, nervousness flutters in your belly, and your heart flutters in your chest.

“Goodnight,” you tell him, turning away from him to face the wall.

You wait for his response, hoping he’s not disappointed. Disappointed about what, you’re not sure. 

“Goodnight,” he says softly and you close your eyes.

You wake up early. Birds are chirping outside the window, golden sunlight is beginning to bleed into the room, and Art’s chest is smushed firmly against your back. His arm is curled around your middle, hand splayed under your shirt and on your tummy, face buried in the crook of your neck. He’s so warm, his presence so comforting, you just want to close your eyes and melt back into him. 

Art groans in his sleep, moving his hips slightly and your eyes snap open.

Oh, Art.

He’s pressed firmly against your backside, rock-hard, hips unconsciously grinding against you. Your mouth falls open slightly feeling him against you, the hard outline of his cock bullying against your ass. Art groans again, hand on your stomach pushing you closer to him.

A breathy sigh escapes you and your head falls back against him slightly. 

“Art,” you breathe, answered with another groan, this one edging on a whimper. His hips gyrate, cock pressing against you with need, “Oh God…”

You swallow, breathing becoming more shallow. Your pussy clenches, and you can feel the growing wetness in the boxers Art had lent you, thighs pressing together desperate to relieve some of the pressure.

“Art wake up!” 

Art wakes with a start, head pulled from your shoulder. You can’t see him, but you feel him tense, the warmth of his body ripped from yours as he lurches backward, right off the edge of the bed. He falls with a yelp, hitting the floor with a loud thud. You sit up turning toward him. 

“Fuck!” he says, scrambling to sit and hide his erection, “Shit, I’m so sorry!” His face is red and he grabs a pillow, placing it over his lap, “God–fuck, I’m so sorry I was asleep—” He keeps stuttering, unable to meet your eyes. 

“Art.”

“It’s just biological you know, just morning wood, I would never do anything without your explicit consent–enthusiastic consent!”

“Art…”

“And I would never want to ruin anything between us, ever–”

“Art!”

His head snaps toward you then, eyes meeting yours. His mouth hangs open, eyes watery as he looks up at you. He looks so sad, so embarrassed, and disappointed. And something else as well. Worried, perhaps. 

“Get back up here,” you tell him.

Art’s mouth remains open in shock as he glances at the bed.

“Now?”

“Yes, right now.”

Art scrambles to rejoin you on the bed, lying beside you. He faces you just as he did last night, sandy hair falling across his forehead. You smile softly at his disheveled appearance and his flushed cheeks.

“I’m sorry—”

“Stop talking,” you tell him, reaching forward and brushing some hair from his face. You let your hand trail around to the nape of his neck, fingers curling in his hair. “You have my consent.”

Art’s eyes widen, lips parting in shock.

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm,” you tell him, pulling yourself closer. His hand drifts to your hip, anchoring himself to it. “Explicit, enthusiastic, all yours.”

The last word has barely left your lips before he’s leaning forward, pressing his lips against your own. They’re warm and soft, he kisses you with innocent eagerness, the hand on your hip pulling you flush against him. You lift your leg, hitching it around his thigh, fingers tangling in his hair and tugging slightly, earning a moan against your mouth.

“Fuck,” he moans against your lips, “You don’t know how long I’ve thought about this.”

Something deep inside your belly warms at his admission. 

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm,” he answers, kissing you again, “Since freshman year.”

“Why didn’t you…..oh fuck..” your question trails off as Art mouths your neck, sucking and biting the tender skin.

“Didn’t want to ruin anything,” he mumbles, kissing your collarbone. 

You hum at his answer, tilting your head to give him better access. His hand moves from your hip bone, up under your shirt—his shirt. 

“Is this okay?” he asks, mouth returning to your lips.

“Yes,” you tell him, “Please touch me.”

You can feel his smile against your lips as he does what you ask, fingers grazing the underside of your breast. Pushing against him, his hand cups your breast, squeezing lightly. You pull away from his lips briefly, tugging your shirt over your head and tossing it to the end of the bed. Art’s eyes devour you and he kisses you desperately as he continues to play with your tits. 

“Fuck you’re beautiful,” he murmurs, kissing down your neck until he reaches the top of your chest. 

Art’s lips move across the tops of your breasts, as though he’s struggling with choosing which one to lavish with attention. Luckily for you, he decides rather quickly and latches his mouth to your right nipple, thumb, and forefinger, tweaking the opposite. Your back arches as he gently bites down, sucking the hardened peak harshly before releasing it with a pop. 

“Art.”

He simply moans, ignoring your cries as he brings his mouth to your opposite nipple, repeating his previous action. Pleasure winds a current in your lower belly, your thighs clench as he repeats his little torture, alternating back and forth between your breasts. You grab his hair, tugging him not too gently until he glances up at you, cheeks red, lips glossy and puckered. 

He’s too pretty.

You pull him back to your lips, kissing him feverishly while trying to rid yourself of the clothing you have left. Art feels you squirming and assists, hands moving the boxers down your legs until you’re able to kick them off at your ankles. Your hands move to him next, eager to even the playing field. 

You tear his shirt over his head revealing his toned stomach from countless hours on the court. Your mouth waters at the sight before Art is on you once more, lips capturing yours in another heated kiss. His hand returns to your hip, curling against it before he reaches further, squeezing your ass.

You smile against his mouth as he squeezes again. 

“You’re just fucking perfect, aren’t you?” he murmurs, returning your smile.

His hand grazes down the back of your thigh before venturing to the front where your legs meet. Your breathing becomes more labored the closer he gets to your hot center. 

“Can I?” he asks, so softly, you nearly drown out his question with your heavy breath.

“Yes,” you tell him, and that’s all he needs. 

Art slides a curious finger between your wet folds, gently circling your clit. Your mouth falls open as he continues.

“You’re so wet,” he remarks, dipping his finger lower, and finding your entrance. 

He lets his middle finger sink into you, met with little resistance. Your walls greedily accept him as he curls his finger upwards, beginning to pump it in and out. Stars explode behind your eyes and you moan, clutching onto his shoulder.

Art smirks, eyes aglow at the pleasured noises you emit.

“That feel good?”

“Yes—fuck,” you squeak as he presses another finger inside of you, “Oh god.”

“Yeah?” 

Art crooks his fingers against your velvety walls, pressing against that special spot inside of you that has your head lolling against him, moans spilling from your lips. His thumb joins, caressing your sensitive clit in time with the strokes of his fingers. 

“Feels so good,” you moan, “I’m so close.”

“Yeah? You're gonna come for me?” he asks, kissing your neck. Your fingers tangle themselves in his blonde hair, tugging harshly, your orgasm building deep in your belly, “Come on baby, come on my fingers, I wanna feel this pretty pussy come.”

His words send you over the edge and your pussy clenches around his digits as you come, thighs shaking from the intensity as warmth floods through you.

“That was so hot,” Art says, kissing you, still buried to the knuckles inside you, “You’re so hot. Let me fuck you, please.”

You hum against his lips as he carefully removes his fingers from your warmth. He pulls away, bringing his fingers to his lips, sucking them clean. You watch him awestruck as he moans, eyes closing at the taste of you.

“Get inside me,” you tell him, “Right now.”

Art doesn’t need to be told twice, sitting up and pulling his boxers off as you lay on your back. Your eyes drift down his stomach to his cock. It’s pretty, just like the rest of him. Long, girthy, a neat tuft of dark sandy colored hair at the base. The tip flushed red and weeping as he strokes himself. 

“Condom?” you ask, and he nods, walking to his desk and rummaging through the first drawer. 

He comes up successful, ripping the wrapper with his teeth and rolling the condom on his length before crawling on top of you. You spread your legs for him as he lines himself up, rubbing the tip along your soaked slit. 

“Art, please put it in,” you whine, hips lifting.

“Jesus, I’m not gonna last long if you keep that up,” he says, shaking his head.

Your responding giggle is short-lived as he slowly sinks inside of you, filling you to the brim.

“Oh god,” you whimper, as he rests his forehead against yours.

“You okay?”

“More than okay,” you answer, cupping his cheek. He mirrors your action and you smile, a sudden burst of tenderness exploding in your chest, tears welling in your eyes. 

Art rotates his hips, pulling back and sinking back into your inviting warmth. 

“You feel so fucking good,” he murmurs, kissing your lips, “I’ve dreamt of this for years.”

“Me too,” you admit, wrapping your legs around his waist, “God, Art, I’ve wanted this forever.”

This spurs him on, his thrusts becoming quicker, more eager at your confession. 

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” you whimper as he pounds into you, “Wanted this for so long—used to talk to….to Tashi about it—”

Art moves his hand along your side, reaching your thigh and hooking your leg over his shoulder.

“What’d you tell her?”

The new angle sends him deeper, the head of his cock rubbing perfectly against that spongy section of your walls that has your mouth dropping open in pleasure.

“Wanted you,” you manage as Art holds one of your hands above your head against the pillows, “Wanted this so bad.”

“I’ll give it to you,” Art says, his breath catching, “Fuck—oh god you’re so pretty like this, fuck.”

“Art!” you cry his name as your second orgasm builds, sneaking up on you as he slows his pace, “Why’d you—”

“Wanna savor this,” he says softly, kissing the tip of your nose. His thrusts have slowed, hips moving with leisure. 

The pressure in your belly continues to build as he smirks down at you. Tennis has done wonders to his stamina; he fucks you like he could keep this pace for hours, barely breaking a sweat. You whine, throwing your head back against the pillows as he kisses your neck, your hamstring burning deliciously with the stretch. 

“Please come for me,” he murmurs, right next to your ear, “I’ve got to feel that sweet little pussy come around my cock, please.”

You do as you’re told, spurred on by Art whispering praises and encouragement in your ear and you fall apart, clenching around his cock and milking him for all he’s worth. You feel his hips stutter, cock twitching inside your warmth as he follows your release with his own. Art’s lips find yours then, and you can taste yourself on his tongue as he kisses you like a drowning man coming up for air. 

You stay like that for several minutes, his cock softening as you kiss one another, before he slowly pulls out. He takes a moment to take off the condom, tying it off and tossing it in the trash before he rejoins you in bed.

“C’mere,” he says, pulling you across his chest. 

You lie with your cheek pressed against his pec, listening to the gentle beating of his heart. He strokes your arm with his fingers, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“Did you mean what you said?” he asks, face buried in your hair, “About wanting me? This?”

“Mhmm,” you answer, putting all your cards on the table, “I may have harbored a small crush on you.”

Art picks up your hand measuring it against his own before lacing your fingers together.

“I wish I knew that earlier,” he admits, still holding your hand, “I’ve been in love with you for ages.”

You glance up at him between your lashes and he grins.

“It’s true,” he says with a smile.

“And here I thought Patrick was the only one who owned your heart,” you tease, causing him to playfully bite your wrist, “Hey!”

“Not the only one,” he admits, rolling you over onto your back, “I’m glad you got kicked out of your room last night.”

You lean up, placing a kiss on the tip of his nose.

“Me too.”

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[rafesangelita]

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ when farmer’s!daughter!reader’s father goes out of town to visit some family, her and cowboy!rafe can’t keep their hands to themselves any longer.

warnings: reader is a little bit on the shy side, flirty banter, use of petnames, implied age gap (rafe is 7-10 years older), hint of jealous!rafe, reader refers to her father as ‘daddy’, mentions of sneaking around, slowburn (kinda?), lotsss of sexual tension, fluff, mutual pining, oral (f. receiving), fingering, finger sucking, unprotected sex, dirty talk, breeding kink, cream pie, squirting, multiple orgasms

a/n: based loosely off of the moodboard + headcanons i wrote here <3 saddle up because this is a long one lol

wc: 4.8k

“you gonna keep staring at me or are you gonna help me out here?” rafe grunted, a hint of a smile playing on his lips as he watched you blink away from his form. you looked up from his shirtless figure, his skin glistening with sweat as butterflies fluttered in your chest. “what do you need?” you chirped, blinking rapidly as if to shake away the thoughts of pressing wet kisses to his waistline. “a cold glass of water sounds good right now.” you obliged, rafe watching as you went up the porch stairs in your cute little boots, his eyes falling down to your backside. “fuck.” he muttered to himself.

if he knew he’d have to fight the urge to touch his boss’s pretty daughter, he would’ve hesitated in taking the job. eight months had felt like an eternity when you pranced around the farm in the prettiest dresses and shortest daisy duke shorts he’s ever seen. you came back with a glass of water, taking a sip before handing it to him. expecting rafe to turn the glass around to take a drink from the other side of the rim, your cheeks heated when he placed his mouth on the same spot your lips were on just moments ago. “thanks, sweetheart.” rafe shot you a wink, his charm making you look away shyly.

you plopped down on a nearby tree stump, a pout taking over your features as you looked at the empty driveway. your father had only been gone for a few hours, not nearly making a dent in the five days he’ll be away. “you don’t have to worry about him, y’know? he’s a strong man.” rafe decided he needed a break from being hunched over under the hood of his truck, his chest rising and falling as he took a seat on the bed of fluffy grass next to you. “i know..” you muttered, “it’s just— he’s so much older now, i worry about him.” you looked down at rafe, his eyes already trained on you.

rafe nodded. “that man can survive anything. wasn’t he in his truck when a tornado came and swept him off the ground?” you gasped, a laugh escaping your lips. “he told you that story?!” you squealed excitedly, your reaction making rafe melt into a puddle of nothing. you were too cute. “did he also tell you the part where that didn’t really happen? him and his buddy just got real close to it.” rafe’s face morphed into one of pure shock. “he lied?!” you threw your head back in laughter, a snort following shortly after. it was rafe’s turn to laugh, the sound unfamiliar to his ears.

“oh my god, excuse me. i can’t believe i just did that!” you clasped a hand over your mouth, embarrassment creeping up onto your face. the man next to you waved you off. “why would he lie about that?” rafe leaned back on his hands, giving you a full view of his chiseled abs. sighing dreamily, you shrugged. “he’s a drama queen sometimes, he likes the theatrics.” realizing that you just swooned over his muscles, rafe cleared his throat before getting back to work. he respected your father too much to give in to his filthy desires, or so he hoped.

swallowing the lump of rejection in your throat, you made your way inside where you decided to watch him from your bedroom window instead. your infatuation with this man only grew by the day, and it was becoming really hard to hide your adoration for him. all the times he slipped you a little wink when your father wasn’t looking, the playing of footsies under the table while your father ranted about the economy, the lingering stares and touches.. you weren’t crazy, you had every right to believe this man was interested in you in some way, shape, or form.

apart of you wanted to believe that rafe was trying to maintain in being a gentleman towards you, but there’s nothing you wanted more than for him to hold off all kind of honor and respect for you while he takes you however he wants. you daydreamed about being fucked in a headlock by him, along with being put into twenty other positions. letting out a sigh, you fell back on your bed, fiddling with the ribbon that was tied to the belt loop of your shorts. how on earth were you going to go about these next few days all alone with him?

night time rolled around, and rafe had just come inside for a shower. “are you hungry?” you watched as he rolled his shoulders back, cracking his neck to release some pressure of today’s labor. “yeah, but i’ll help myself. don’t worry about it, ‘sugar.” he groaned before shutting the bathroom door behind him. you knew he wouldn’t, days like this always ended in rafe knocking out as soon as he hit his bed, empty stomach or not. the only thing rafe could think about as the hot water pattered against his back, was how you were in the same house as him in nothing but a night dress.

he wondered if you’d let him hike it up your thighs.. if you’d allow him to slip his fingers underneath the soft material. so badly, he wanted to see your face twist in pleasure underneath him, he ached to see that day. rafe let out a shuddering breath, swallowing thickly as lewd images of you ran through his head. he imagined your hands trailing down his torso, those cherry red painted fingers of yours wrapped tightly around his cock. you had this man questioning everything he ever knew about being a gentlman. rafe rubbed the sides of his face, his eyes screwing shut as he attempted to get all inappropriate thoughts about you out of his head.

he remembered seeing you for the first time all those months ago. you were wearing a red gingham dress, your hair styled so pretty and neat. he knew immediately that he was in trouble when you flashed him that million dollar smile when your father introduced you two. it wasn’t long before both of you started flirting with each other, even going as far as touching each other when you didn’t have to. rafe would ‘help’ you up on your horse, his hands planted on the globes of your ass as he hoisted you onto the saddle. he swore he died and came back to life whenever you’d place a hand on him every time he made you laugh.

slowly but surely, you two were getting more bolder with your moves. while rafe was ogling your goodies more often than not, you started leaving your curtains open whenever you’d change, knowing he could see you from the view of his window. pinching the bridge of his nose, rafe quickly hurried up in the shower, feeling the need to relieve himself in his own space where he knew you’d be far away from. after washing away all the dirt and grime, he felt clean as he dried himself off, only for his peace to come crashing down when he realized he didn’t bring an extra change of clothes with him.

with no other choice but to walk out of the bathroom with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist, he tried to sneak pass you in the kitchen and out the back door, but of course he wasn’t so lucky. “i know you said you would make yourself something, but—” you turned around with a loaded dinner plate in your hand, the dish nearly slipping out of your grip when you saw the tall cowboy standing awkwardly with his hands on his hips.

your eyes trailed down his stomach, the sight of his happy trail making you swallow thickly. rafe took note of this, his heart beating in his chest as you averted your gaze elsewhere. “uhm, well i made you this.. i know it’s one of your favorites..” you placed the plate of steak and mashed potatoes on the table, turning around as you took your bottom lip between your teeth. this was absolute torture. “it looks amazing, i’ll just get some clothes on and be right back.” he held onto the towel, jogging to his place where he slipped on a pair of pajama pants and a dingy white t-shirt.

“you didn’t have to do this,” rafe took a seat at the table, his jaw ticking when you bent over the counter to grab a couple of drinking glasses, “thank you.” at this point he didn’t know if he was thanking you for the food, or the perfect view of your ass. “water?” you looked at him from over your shoulder, your cheeks heating when you saw his eyes shoot away from your backside. “a beer please.” you smiled at his answer. you should’ve known he’d pick that out after a full day of work. grabbing a bottle from the fridge, you handed it to him, his fingers brushing yours as you took a seat across from him.

“my dad makes it a lot better than i do, so—” rafe was quick to cut you off, a moan leaving his lips as he chewed. “this is.. damn!” you giggled, shaking your head. “it’s great, darlin’. truly.” he nodded approvingly, flashing you a thumbs up. you smiled that smile of yours before tasting it yourself. despite all the tension between you two, you could always count on each other to talk the other’s ear off. “wait. so you’re telling me that you’re actually from an island? why on earth would you live out in the middle of nowhere when you had the beach in your backyard?” you asked incredulously.

rafe took a swig from his beer, a bittersweet laugh leaving his lips. “i got into a ‘lotta bad shit over there. i was on some bad shit,” he sighed, “being out here brings me peace.. even if i’m breaking my back everyday.” you listened closely, giving him your full attention as he told you more about the place he was from. you learned that he used to be a filthy rich boy with a house bigger than you could ever imagine. rafe smiled softly, a solemn expression taking over his features. “it’s very nice. but i wouldn’t go back.” he leaned back in his chair.

you tilted your head at him, both of your plates empty. “no? how come?” you leaned forward, your cleavage peeking out of your neckline. eyes flickering down to your chest, rafe seemed to get flustered when he felt your foot trail up his leg. “well,” he zeroed in on your lips, “i see myself settling down out here, ‘havin some little ones.” your breath hitched, a smidge of jealousy now residing in your gut. as if he could read your mind, he caught your foot under the table, his thumb stroking your ankle. “old habits seem to die hard, huh?” rafe laughed.

pushing away the jealousy, you nodded, feeling a new profound sense of confidence with the way he was looking at you right now. “yeah, i guess i forgot we’re here all by ourselves.. ‘don’t really have to hide from anyone..” you yawned, your head falling back on your chair as your night gown rode up your thighs. just a few inches higher, and rafe would finally see what he’s been fantasizing about all this time. “yeah..” he crossed his arms, his biceps looking especially good right now. you two stayed quiet, just looking at each other as if everything was threatening to rise to the surface.

do something! you thought to yourself, hoping rafe could magically hear you and grab you from across the table. instead, he looked away, letting go of your foot before scooting out from the table. “dinner was really good, but i better head off to bed, now.” he didn’t let you say anything before he left in a haste. what. the. fuck. you got up, watching him curse to himself from the kitchen window. you couldn’t help but feel defeated. rafe was always the one pulling away from you, no matter how close you two got, he always left you high and dry.

once you cleaned everything up, and you were left lying by yourself in your bed, you decided everything would change. if he pulled away from you, surely you should do the same.

you woke up the next morning to the sound of rafe’s truck engine roaring to life. rubbing your eyes, you shielded your face from the morning sun, deciding to get your day started as soon as possible. within an hour, you were stepping outside, walking over to where rafe was smiling brightly behind the steering wheel. “i got it working, sweetheart! should we go for a ride?” damn him, he knew how much you loved to be passenger princess in his two seater-beater. you cleared your throat, already hating yourself as you said no. “i don’t think so.. i got a lot of stuff to do today.”

rafe watched you go back in the house, his jaw ticking in response. the only thing you had to do today was sit and look pretty. not to mention, for as long as rafe has been here, you never, ever, rejected going on a little drive with him. that’s how he immediately knew something wasn’t right, and he’d bet all of his money that it had something to do with last night. taking the keys out of the ignition, rafe decided that if you weren’t going to go for a ride with him, then he wasn’t going either. considering he did everything he needed to do yesterday, rafe settled for going inside to tidy up his place.

you walked around the house aimlessly, a book in your hand as you kept glancing outside to see if you could spot rafe anywhere. you didn’t. letting out a groan, you looked at the clock on the wall. it was already half past noon. you debated on whether or not you should take him some lunch, your leg bouncing as you tried to weigh out your options here. on one hand, you could bring rafe lunch, try to talk some stuff out, and on the other hand, you could just leave things be like you promised yourself you would. you knew rafe wasn’t stupid, surely he’d catch on to you soon.

just as you decided against bothering him, there was a knock at the front door. eyebrows knitting in confusion, you opened the door to see your childhood best friend, wyatt. “wyatt!” you squealed, throwing your arms around him as he pulled you close to him by your waist. “oh my, lord! when did you come back from the city?!” you welcomed him in, motioning for him to come inside. “i just finished my second semester, so i’ll be in town for a while. i drove out here just last night, ‘decided to surprise my folks.” he smiled, his expression softening once you urged him to take a seat at the kitchen table.

“i didn’t see your old man’s truck out front..” he sat down, taking his hat off and placing it on the table. “oh, yeah.. he’s out of town visiting my aunt.” you leaned back on the counter, your eyes flickering at his hair. he looked so much different now. “wow, you’re uh— you look really good.” you complimented. “yeah, i’m not lanky anymore,” wyatt laughed, “you look gorgeous as always, though.” his gaze ran down your dress, the sight of your bare thighs making him clear his throat. “well, i didn’t just want to come by and say hi, i actually wanted to ask you something—”

rafe barged in before wyatt could finish his sentence.

“who’s this?” he stared between you two, the jealousy in his blue eyes very, very evident. you smiled innocently as wyatt got up, extending a hand for rafe to shake. “hello, sir. i’m an old friend of y/n’s here, ‘was just coming to visit her.” rafe looked down at wyatt’s palm, keeping both of his hands tucked in his pockets. “well, you two might wanna hurry this up, y/n’s father doesn’t know about any visitors coming to his home.” rafe walked around him, opening the fridge for a beer. “daddy isn’t home though, isn’t he?” you spoke up, in which rafe turned around. “what was that?” he asked.

you two were glaring at each other now. “my dad isn’t here,” you repeated, “and besides, he knows wyatt. ‘thinks of him as a son, right?” rafe’s grip on his beer bottle tightened, a smile playing on his lips when he glanced over at your friend. “yeah.” wyatt nodded. rafe was seeing red, he couldn’t stand to look at you and wyatt standing so close to each other any longer. turning around, rafe listened in as wyatt asked to take you out to dinner. “aw, i would love to! what time should i be ready?”rafe shut his eyes momentarily. you said yes to wyatt too fast for his liking. “how does eight o’clock sound?”

you hummed, nodding excitedly as wyatt made his way to the front door. “alright, it’s a date then. see ‘ya!” you waved at him until his truck disappeared down the dirt road. walking back into the kitchen, rafe was staring you down as you acted like you didn’t just agree to go on a date in front of him. “what do you think you’re playing at?” he narrowed his eyes at you. “if you’re acting out because of last night—” you cut him off. “don’t talk about me ‘acting out’ when you’re the one who decided to run back to your little shed when i was giving you an open opportunity.” you cut in.

“an open opportunity to do what?” rafe’s voice was firm as he stepped closer to you, his beer long forgotten on the counter as he gripped your arm. you failed miserably at trying not to look down at his lips. “it doesn’t even matter now. you obviously don’t want it,” you softened, “don’t want me..” rafe couldn’t believe his ears. you were all that this man thought about. he woke up thinking of what pretty outfit you would wear for the day, and went to sleep wishing you were by his side. “don’t want you?” he repeated, loosening his grip on your skin. “you just have no fucking clue.” rafe stepped back.

“you’re the only thing that i want.” he laughed bitterly, shaking his head as he made his way outside to the back house. you stared at him in shock. all this time you wondered if something was wrong with you because he never made a real move to pursue you, but now all of a sudden after you agree to go on a date he wants to express how he feels? and has the nerve to walk off right after? fuck that. you pushed the back door open, the old wood slamming back against the house as rafe spun around on his heels. “so why do you walk away from me?!” you shouted, both of your chests rising and falling.

“what are you talking about?” you stepped down the stairs, shoving rafe in the chest. “why do you leave every time things start to go somewhere?” his eyes bore into yours, “i’m sick of this game of cat and mouse. have you ever thought that maybe i want you too?” those were the words rafe needed to hear before he cupped your face and dragged you off your feet. his lips were soft against your own, his calloused hands pulling you close to him as your arms wrapped around his neck. he groaned at the taste of you, his tongue slipping in your mouth before you could process what was happening.

rafe kissed you hard and slow, as if to savor you before he led you two to his place, the door barely shutting before he had you pinned to his neatly made bed. “i’ve wanted you the moment your father introduced us, that’s the truth.” he slotted himself between your thighs, cupping your tits through your dress. you moaned, his hips grinding against your clothed cunt. “why would you wait all this time then?” you whimpered when he started pressing kisses to the curve of your neck, his calloused hands feeling you up as they roamed your soft flesh. “well for starters, i have a lot of respect for your pops..”

you sighed, completely forgetting about the old man. “and?” rafe pulled the straps of your dress down until the material pooled at your waist. leaning back on his heels, rafe marveled at the sight of your bare chest, your tits looking more perfect than he imagined. “..and right now, all the respect i have is going out the door.” you cried out when he leaned down, his lips wrapping around a sensitive bud while he used his other hand to snake beneath the waistband of your panties. you blinked up at the ceiling, your hips bucking when you felt his rough fingers stroke your clit.

“that feels so good, ray.” you keened, the weight of his body providing you a sense of safety and comfort. rafe felt like he was under a spell. with your sweet voice in his ear, and his fingers working to get you soaked and ready for him, he couldn’t wait to taste you any longer. pulling away from you, rafe slid your dress and underwears off in one swift motion, a shiver running down your spine when he slowly spread your thighs apart. “you’re fuckin’ gorgeous.” he licked his lips, glancing up at your heated face. your heart bloomed in your chest, your hand finding his cheek.

“please. i’ve wanted this for eight months.” you confessed, your words sending rafe into overdrive. without another thought, rafe took your thighs and placed them on his shoulders, delving into your wetness with a groan. instinctively, your back arched up from his bed, your hands flying to rest on top of his own. you squeezed his fingers, a string of babbles falling from your lips as rafe’s tongue flicked against your sensitive bundle of nerves. rafe watched as you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, your eyebrows knitting together as pure bliss etched itself onto your face.

“you okay?” rafe pressed a wet kiss to your inner thigh, wanting to make sure it wasn’t too much for you before continuing. “mhmm, yes!” you looked down, the image of rafe’s chin, lips, and even the tip of his nose glistening with your slick was now forever ingrained in your brain. smiling to himself, rafe got back to work, but this time with his fingers prodding at your entrance. “might be a bit uncomfortable at first, but i promise it’ll feel so good, baby.” you nodded, putting all your trust in him before you felt the delicious stretch of his digits inside your cunt.

“fuck!” you squealed, your thighs threatening to snap shut around his head. rafe curled his digits, your eyes screwing shut as he continuously pressed that soft spot inside of you. rafe didn’t stop his skillful movements on your clit, an unfamiliar feeling starting to swirl in your core. rafe cursed at the wet sounds emitting from your pussy, his cock hard and aching to get inside of you already. you gasped when he kept suckling on your sensitive bud, your stomach caving in when he pressed a hand to your tummy. before you could think, white hot pleasure blinded your vision, your entire body jolting as the first wave of your orgasm washed over you.

rafe felt the way you pulsed around his digits, wishing so badly that it was his cock instead. eyes flickering up to your face, he groaned when he saw the way your face twisted in pure bliss, your legs shaking as you felt the sudden urge to pull away from him. “rafe, wait!” you cried out, a sob ripping itself from your throat when a stream of wetness suddenly soaked rafe’s chin, your decadence streaming down his neck as he moaned against your cunt. you stared down at him with wide eyes, your mouth parting in suprise when he slipped his digits in his mouth.

“i- i don’t know what that was!” you gasped, cheeks heating in embarrassment. licking a final stripe up your folds, rafe smiled as he shook his head. “you just squirted, baby, get used to it.” his length rested on top of your tummy, hot and heavy, as he threaded his fingers with yours. “gonna fuck you until you’re carrying my baby..” your heart swelled, recalling his words from last night. “were you talking about me? when you said you wanted little ones..” rafe looked into your eyes, the sincerity in his gaze making you feel warm and fuzzy inside. “you’re the only woman i envision. future and present.”

cupping his face softly, you brought his lips down to meet your own, the head of his cock slipping into your entrance. you let out a shuddering breath, nodding slowly as he pushed the rest of his length inside your greedy walls. you swore you died and went to heaven when he starting rocking into you, both of you moaning in unison. “rafe?” you whimpered, gazing up at him with teary eyes, “shit— yeah, sweetheart?” the man on top of you thumbed your chin, a concerned expression taking over his features. you could tell rafe was holding back with the way he was hesitating with every thrust.

“harder, please.” you asked sweetly, rafe obliging without another thought. soon, you were a crying mess, your eyes barely staying open as rafe put you in a mating press. he was already reaching new depths in regular missionary, so when he placed your legs over his shoulders and caged you between his arms, you were hysterical as his tip kissed your cervix. “oh, god!” you screamed, your nails digging into rafe’s skin as he fucked you stupid. “can’t..” you shook your head, the feeling of his cock filling you to the hilt was increasingly becoming too much to handle.

"yes you can, sugar. look how good you're taking it all.." rafe cradled your head, making you look down at where you two were connected. you moaned at the sight, his cock shining with your slick. rafe kept his hands beneath your head, kissing you softly as his pubic bone began hitting your clit. “m’gonna make you the prettiest mommy this town has ever seen, just watch.” he chuckled, his forehead falling in the curve of your neck. you ran your fingers across his buzzed scalp, the word ‘promise?’ lingering on your tongue. “is that what you want? ‘want me to breed you until you’re all pretty and round?”

you cried out, rafe’s hips stuttering as he felt his climax creeping up on him. “yes, yes, yes—” you repeated yourself like a broken record, rafe’s name falling from your lips like a mantra. “oh, fuck!” he cursed, teeth grazing your flesh as he spilled into you, your second orgasm making you squeeze around him like a vice. rafe stilled, making sure to keep stroking your clit so he could draw out your high for as long as possible. slipping his thumb in your mouth, you shamelessly sucked on the digit as you trembled beneath him, his hot load filling you up.

you two stayed panting against each other’s mouths until your highs subsided, a light sheen of sweat coating both of your skin’s. pulling out with a grunt, rafe rolled over, pulling you with him so he could spoon you. letting out a sigh, you reveled in the warm sun streaming through his window, the light casting off of your face and illuminating the walls. “that was worth the wait, don’t you think?” if it wasn’t for the feeling of your limbs being jelly, you would’ve turned around and landed a playful smack to his chest. instead, you hummed, your eyes heavy with sleep. “we’re not keeping this from my father, rafe.”

your voice was hoarse as you spoke. “no. no, we’re not.” he kissed your shoulder. “you should probably give that guy wayne a call, ‘tell him you’re not going on that date after all.” you giggled, a shiver going down your spine as his large palm rubbed circles into your back. “wyatt, rafe. his name is wyatt. i only told him yes to rile you up.” you teased. rafe knew that, but it still pissed him off nonetheless. “i’ll cancel in a minute, ‘sir.” you used wyatt’s formalities towards rafe earlier against him, earning you a light pinch to your side. “that asshole. ‘really called me sir as if i’m that old.” he shook his head, waiting for you to disagree.

“well..” you trailed off, bursting into laughter when he attacked you with sloppy kisses.

[sturnsdarling]

'Chris likes girls who don't like him back'

Late night streaming with your best friends turns to a conversation about the boys' type, and Chris gets called out

vibe check: flirty fluffy fun, 3/4 of my favourite f words

1.4k words

A/N: i had this idea literally straight away after what Matt said about Chris' type.........the idea of being Chris' best friend that he openly fancies but you're 'not interested' makes MY TOES CURL BRO LIKE ARE YOU KIDDING anyway I hope you love this. PART TWO IS INCOMING…

love and cigs, merc

"Matt he's right there what the fuck are you doing?!" you scream down the mic, nearly throwing your controller across the room as you jolt back in your chair.

You watch as Matt gets sniped in the head from the back, laughing as he wails on this desk, making the whole stream glitch and nearly crash. Chris is laughing along with you, trying not to make it obvious that he's watching you, and not Matt.

"Matt, bro you need to fuckin' up your game, y/n/n is actually carrying us right now." Chris says as Matt picks his chair up off the floor and sits back down in a huff.

"I always carry when I come on with you boys" you smirk, looking at the tiny square of Chris on your screen.

"yeah because you're a little sweat" Matt chuckles.

The boys had been streaming everyday for over a week now and, after some convincing, they managed to get you to join in on one of their games. At first you were apprehensive, obviously, but they explained that they were trying to diversify their platform and find a more mature audience so, actually interacting with girls on the internet was their first step.

You and the boys had been friends for forever, you met them through Nick in elementary school and had basically all been inseparable ever since, you'd been in some earlier videos but the fans back then made it very difficult to just exist around them so, you took it upon yourself to only exist in their real life, not their online one.

Cut to right now, you're nearly two hours deep in fortnite trios with the boys on stream, everyone was super excited to see you when they announced that they'd be joining and, other than a couple comments that you all ignored, it was going really well.

"Matt, someone asked what our types are" Chris laughed, reading the chat.

"I'm not answering that" Matt dead panned, screwing his face up at the camera

"I can answer it for you both, for sure" you chuckle, "chat do you want me to answer it?"

"yes, yes, yes, yes, omg yes" Chris was reeling off the answers in chat, "everyone wants y/n/n to answer, Matt should we let her?" Chris asked.

Matt rolled his eyes with a smile, "g'head, y/n/n, expose us" He chuckled.

"okay, so" you said, in your best girly gossip voice, "Matt likes nerdy, reader, soft girls" you begin to explain, your train of thought is interrupted by Chris erupting into laughter.

"dude she's so right! you love a girl that looks like she's always buried in a book" Chris wails.

"what are you guys even saying?" Matt complains, the smile etched across his face giving his tone a lot less power.

"you definitely want a girl who will go on a hike with you or some shit, Matt" You say, enjoying this whole interaction a bit too much.

Chris was keeled over in laughter, loving finally being able to talk about this kind of stuff on the internet without everyone going insane.

"I dunno why you're laughing so much, Chris, you're next" Matt states, Chris shrugs in reply.

"i don't give a fuck, call me out y/n/n, gimme the best you got" Chris sits back in his chair, arms folded over his chest.

"hmmmm" you say, exaggerating your thinking, "what is the famous Christopher Sturniolos type" you rub your chin, pretending to be thinking deeply.

A knowing smirk is spread wide across Chris' face as he stares at your face on his screen, tongue prodding the side of his cheek.

"I know Chris' type" Matt adds, a menacing smile on his face.

"g'head matt, you take this one" you gesture to the boy on your screen.

"Chris likes girls who don't like him back" Matts brows raise in accusation towards Chris.

You try and hide the smile forming on your face, attempting to look as focused on the game as possible as your tongue prods at your teeth. Neither of the boys say anything, both of them cheesing, Matt in a teasing and knowing kind of way and Chris more so in a 'I cant say what I wanna say' kind of way.

"damn, Matt, you just called me the fuck out" Chris shakes his head, looking to the tiny version of you on his screen.

You're still quiet, trying to fight the smile on your face and look as focused as possible, you catch Chris looking as if he's looking at you on his screen and shake your head with a chuckle.

"what you grinnin' at, kid?" Chris smirks.

You raise your brows, shaking your head with a downwards smile, "no, nothin', nothin" you say, returning your focus back to the game.

All of the viewers watched the interaction and were blowing up the chat with comments about how Chris definitely likes you, saying things like 'did you guys see that?!', and 'think they're slick look at how they're both smiling!!!!!'. Chris was reading the comments and trying to hide the red blush crawling its way onto his cheeks, Matt was relishing in the fact that Chris was so obviously nervous, and you were just trying not to react.

"Chris, dude, you better wipe that smile off your face, chat's onto you" Matt pokes the bear.

"chat ain't onto shit, Matt, shut the fuck up" Chris says, trying to be serious but unable to push his smile down.

"you know i'm right though, you do like girls who don't want you" Matt pushed on with his joke.

"Matt, shut your fuckin' mouth, dude" Chris rolled his eyes and shook his head, his smile still prevalent.

You couldn't help but laugh, still pretending to not care about the situation unfolding. In hindsight, it probably made it all the more obvious that you knew exactly what Matt was referring to.

"you're awful quiet, y/n/n, you got nothing to say on Chris' type?" Matt extends his joke over to you and your attention is immediately on him.

"nah, you hit the nail on the head, I think" you shrug, stretching back in your chair and adjusting your headset.

"oh really?" Chris replies, brows raised in accusation.

"mhm" you nod, faux innocently.

Chris kisses his teeth, nodding and trying to hide the smile on his face once again.

"yeah, chat, Matts right, I like pretty girls, who don't like me back" Chris says, subtly turning his attention to you and then back to chat.

You roll your eyes with a smile, leaning forward once more to lock into the game.

"you're ridiculous, Chris" Matt chuckles into the mic, watching you shift in your seat, trying not to blush.

The rest of the game went off without a hitch, you guys went on to win multiple times and all the viewers eventually stopped trying to get the conversation back to Chris' obvious crush on you. You played until the early hours of the morning, joking and laughing with the boys' just like old times and relishing in the fact that you were finally able to be a part of their online presence again. When it hit around three a.m you told them you had to sign off, explaining that you had to be up early for college that morning.

"guys, I gotta go, but I'll text you when I wake up" you said, pulling off your headset, and brushing your hair back with your hand.

"alright, y/n/n, thanks for helping us bury kids, its always a treat" Matt grinned at you, shooting you his token boyish smile.

"you know I live to humble kids on fort, Matt" You shrugged, putting on your best boyish persona, earning a laugh from Matt

"okay seriously, I gotta go, bye chat!" you smile, "bye boys" you go to switch off your computer but you're stopped by Chris booming voice.

"bye, beautiful" he says, a cheesy grin on his face.

your eyes roll to the back of your head as an uncontrollable smile finds your lips, "bye, Chris" you reply, switching off your computer.

The whole chat erupts with people losing their minds over Chris calling you beautiful, the boys say nothing, Matt just shakes his head, laughing at the chat as he watches Chris, grinning with pride and completely unashamed of his very obvious crush on you.

taglist: @sturniozalt@mattslolita@shaquilles-0atmeal@blahbel668@sleepysturniolo@le4hsblog @sarosfilms @joemamaaa42069 @2muchofaslvt @seluky10

[imaginedisish]

My Love All Mine (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)

A/N: Not a request. Just a VERY slutty thot I had last night. Inspired by "My Love All Mine" by Mitski. Genuinely, this is one of the filthiest things I've ever written. Enjoy!

Summary: Logan told you to stay in his bed so he could have you when he got home from a mission, but he finds you in the kitchen instead...and he isn’t happy.

Warnings: 18+ Explicit sexual content! MINORS DNI!!! Oral (f!receiving), Fingering, Unprotected PIV (wrap it up!), Porn without plot (literally), multiple orgasms, (uh...they're in the kitchen? kitchen warning?), overstimulation, softdom!Logan, established relationship, f!reader/afab!reader, Logan is one starving and reckless man, disrespecting Scott, cursing, def some grammatical errors, I think that's it.

Word Count: 2,288 told y'all there's no plot

It’s late—the moon high in the sky. But you can’t sleep—not without Logan next to you. You know he’ll be back soon—he was only sent on a quick diplomatic day mission with Hank. Charles said Logan needed to control his anger, to learn from the best, and he was right. The trip would certainly do him some good. But it was still brutal, waiting in bed for him, alone. 

You had thrown one of his shirts on a few minutes ago, refusing to wear anything of your own save for your panties. You wanted to smell him—to find a way to keep him close even while he’s gone. And sure enough, the shirt was all tobacco and pine and musk and Logan. 

But it’s not enough. You need more. You need him. 

Too bad you’ll have to wait. He asked you to stay in his bed. Wanna fuck you right when I get home, pretty girl. You were happy to oblige earlier, but it’s getting late, and you’re getting bored—impatient. You swing your legs around the side of Logan’s bed and stand, heading out the bedroom door and down the stairs to the kitchen. 

A snack could help. A snack could distract you.

The kitchen is dark, and everyone is fast asleep. You rummage through the cabinets, hoping no one can hear you. You find a package of store-bought cookies with a sticky note that has Scott’s name written on it. After considering—albeit very briefly—you tear Scott’s little note off and toss it to the side. You rip open the package. He won’t care if you have a cookie. It’s just one, after all. You grab one, bringing it to your lips—

“And just what do you think you’re doing?” You jump, dropping the cookie on the counter at the sound of the familiar voice. You look across the dimly lit kitchen to see Logan standing in the doorway. 

“Lo?” You whisper. 

He hums, approaching you slowly, sizing you up. He’s towering over you, caging you in, hands firmly gripping the counter on either side of your waist. “Is this my shirt?” He asks, his hand dropping to brush your thighs, pinching the hem of the tee between his pointer finger and thumb. 

“Didn’t know when you’d get back…” You trail off, heat rising to your chest. You can feel that all too familiar ache building between your thighs. “M-missed you.” Logan smirks, knowing exactly what he’s doing to you. “Missed you too, pretty girl.” He hikes the shirt up and around your waist, revealing your panties. “No shorts, huh?” 

“N-no,” you pant, suddenly nervous. “Lo, someone might see, someone could—"

“Let them,” he husks, pressing his chest to yours. “No bra either, hm?” He lets the shirt fall as his fingertips slip underneath and trail up to your breasts. He squeezes your tits, messaging them gently, his thumbs brushing back and forth over your nipples. 

“Logan,” you whine, struggling to suppress your moans. 

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his lips at the shell of your ear. “Let them know whose girl you are.” That heat between your legs is burning now, flames lighting your every nerve ending on fire. 

“Yours,” you whisper. Logan pinches your nipples, his lips crashing down onto yours, swallowing your moans. 

He hums. “All fucking mine.” And then he’s grabbing your ass and hoisting you up. You wrap your legs around his waist as your bare thighs meet the cold granite countertop. Logan bites your lower lip teasingly, his kisses becoming rushed and frantic. He squeezes your tits once more before he slides down your body to the floor below. 

He settles between your legs, one hand on your hip while the other teases your all too-clothed cunt. He presses a chaste kiss to your clit, this thumb brushing over your folds. “Fucking soaked, princess,” he grunts, pleased. “All this for me?

“Y-yes,” you choke. “All for you.”

He chuckles against you, his laughter vibrating through your core. “Could smell you when I walked in. Can’t wait to taste you.” You shudder at his words, at the way they make you feel—your heart fluttering in your chest, ready to burst. 

Logan hooks his thumbs into the waistband of your panties and yanks them down, throwing them to the side. He spreads your legs with the palms of his hands. “Logan,” you whisper. “What if someone sees?”

He answers with a long stripe through your folds up to your clit. “I said I was gonna fuck you when I got home,” he mumbles against you, licking another long stripe. “And you weren’t in my bed, so this’ll have to do.”

His lips wrap around your clit, pulling the bud into his mouth and sucking roughly. You squirm, involuntarily moving your hips away from Logan at the sudden pleasure. Logan smiles against you, wrapping a hand around your back to hold you in place, to give himself more leverage to bury his face deep into your cunt.

“You’re not going anywhere until I’m done with you, pretty girl,” he growls. His tongue swirls around your clit as his free hand teasingly climbs up your inner thigh. His fingers find your folds, stroking gently, spreading your slick. And then two of his fingers are sinking inside you, deep, down to the knuckles. 

Your walls flutter around him. Logan slides out and pushes back in deeper, lapping hungrily at your clit. “Tastes so fucking good, princess,” he praises. “Pretty little pussy, so tight.”

You curse under your breath as his thrusts pick up, fingers slamming into you, hitting that sweet spot with every pump. “Lo,” you pant, needy and helpless. 

His teeth graze your clit, and you moan, louder than before. You bite your lip, doing your all to hold yourself back. “That feel good, sweetheart?” He does it again, grazing harder this time, taking the bud into his mouth and biting softly. You try to stifle your moan, but it chokes its way out. 

“No holding back,” he chides, sucking your clit in between sentences. “Let them know who’s making you feel this good. Want everyone to know who you belong to.”

“Logan,” you hum, his fingers dragging against your walls, scissoring inside you. You’re already so close, clenching and contracting around him. “I-I…” but you can’t get the sentence out, can’t even make a coherent thought. 

“Use your words, pretty girl,” Logan demands, relentlessly lapping at your clit, pumping in and out fast and hard. “What do you need?” 

“Y-you…” you murmur. “I’m s-so close,” you finally spit out.

Logan tugs you closer, forcing himself deeper as he draws soft circles into your back. “Gonna get you there, princess,” he husks, his tongue flicking your clit. “Wanna feel you come on my fingers, wanna taste it.”

“F-fuck, Logan,” you stutter. He’s plunging deeper still, slipping in a third finger. And that’s when you feel it. The tension snaps. Heat rolls through you, spilling out of you. He’s still sucking on your clit, savoring the taste of you as you let go for him. 

You’re a trembling mess, thighs shaking as you ride out your orgasm. “That’s it, I’ve got you,” he soothes in between laps. His pumps slow as you come down from your high. His thumb strokes your back comfortingly. He pulls his fingers from you, but his face is still buried inside your cunt, his tongue lapping ravenously. 

He’s a man starved, showing no signs of stopping. You reach out, running your hands through his hair, dragging your nails across his scalp. He grunts against you, the bass of his voice going straight to your core. “Logan,” you whisper. His teeth nip at your clit, and you jolt, still overstimulated from your first orgasm. But he isn’t taking the hint. “Logan,” you call again. He still doesn’t move. 

“I said you weren’t going anywhere,” he pauses, licking a long, slow stripe through your folds, looking up at you under lust-filled eyes. “Until I’m finished.” His fingers are prodding at your entrance again. “And darlin’,” he grunts, sliding three fingers back inside. “I’m not finished yet.”

He’s pumping with more vigor now, more force. It’s already too much; already more than you can take. His tongue circles your clit, the pressure rocking you to your core. You’re a whimpering mess as he thrusts into you, moaning his name, praying to him like he’s a god. 

“Lo,” you mumble. “I’m a-already…” You throw your head back, fucked out beyond belief. 

“I know, pretty girl,” he coos between flits, his fingers slamming into you. “You gonna give me another one? You gonna let me taste your come again?”

“Y-yes,” you stutter. He takes your clit into his mouth, sucking roughly. 

“Good girl,” he mutters against you, your walls contracting around him at his praise. He can feel you squeezing him; he knows full well what he’s doing to you, and just how close you are. He smirks against your cunt. “Such a good fucking girl for me.”

And with one more thrust, you’re coming undone around him. It’s more forceful this time, sudden and uncontrolled. You know Logan likes you like this, quivering underneath him; because of him. 

He’s slowing down again, his fingers setting a lazy, dragging pace until they stall inside you. Your eyes flutter shut as he slides out. His tongue laps once more before he pulls away from you. 

You open your eyes, leaning back on your forearms, watching as Logan stands. He brings his fingers to his open mouth and stuffs them inside, sucking, savoring the taste of you, and then pulling them out with a pop. Your walls flutter around nothing at the sight.

“You taste so fucking good, pretty girl,” he huffs. He grabs your hips, yanking them just over the counter. He steps in between your legs, unbuckling his belt and letting it fall to the kitchen floor. He’s unbuttoning his jeans and pulling down his zipper, shoving the denim down his legs along with his boxers.

You sit up, reaching out towards him, but Logan pushes you down against the counter. He pins your hands above your head with one hand, while his other guides his cock to your entrance. “You gonna let me fuck you into this counter, sweetheart?” He hovers over you, his eyes tracking your every move.

“Y-yes,” you whine. “N-need you, Lo.” 

And then he’s slamming into you, down to the hilt. He’s filling you up and splitting you open with a single thrust. You’ll never get used to just how big he is, no matter how many times he fucks you. 

“Fuck,” he growls, swallowing your moans with a kiss. “Feels so good, so tight, pretty girl.” He pulls out and plunges back in, deeper this time. “Thought about you all day, beautiful.”

“Th-thought about you too, Lo,” you whine as he builds his pace. His hand leaves his cock and finds your clit, stroking the bud gently with his thumb. You arch your back at the touch, your chest pressing against his. 

“Needed this fucking pussy,” he grunts, his hips snapping into yours. “Need you. Always need you.” His words alone could send you over the edge. His thumb circles around your core, his cock dragging deliciously against your walls. 

He’s hovering over you, still pinning your wrists down to the counter, offering him stability and balance. He pounds into you, hitting that sweet spot with every pump. You know you can’t last much longer, not with Logan’s lips at your ear, whispering sweet praises. So fucking good. Feels perfect, always so perfect. He’s right. He fits inside you like you were made for each other, like it was always meant to be this way. 

Your walls squeeze him tightly, threatening to let go, to come crashing down around him. He ruts into you, hips rocking against yours. He adds more pressure to your clit, his thumb stroking faster, harder. “Lo,” you call out. “C-close again,” you stammer. 

“Can feel you, beautiful,” he coos. “Gonna take care of you, don’t worry.” You can feel his pace faltering, growing sloppier. He’s close, too—not far behind. “Wanna feel you come on my cock, pretty girl. Know you can do it.”

“F-fuck,” you stammer as he flicks your clit, circling roughly. He’s throbbing as he slams into you, hit after hit. “Logan,” you whine. “I’m gonna—” 

It happens all at once. You’re crashing, pleasure raging through your body. It tears through you, burning, spreading. Logan is right behind, filling you up, coming deep inside as you clench down around him. He releases your hands from his pin and shifts so that he’s pulling you into his chest as you finish. You’re sitting up, slumping against him, still riding out your orgasm. 

He pumps in and out a few more times until he’s still inside you. He strokes your clit gently, soothingly, letting you down easy from your peak. He pulls out, his arms wrapping around your back and tugging you closer. He holds you tightly, limp in his arms.

You rest your head in the crook of his neck, and he presses a chaste kiss to your temple. “Missed you,” he whispers, all soft now. His cocky attitude is gone—his needs satiated. Now he’s all gentle kisses and soothing rubs up and down your back. 

“Missed you more,” you answer, smiling as you look up at him. 

He presses a kiss to your forehead. “Don’t think that’s possible, sweetheart.” His fingers trace shapes into your back. “And princess?” He mumbles. You nod against him. “Don’t think I’m finished with you just yet.”

Your heart thumps in your chest. 

“Never gonna be finished with you.”

tags: @figsnpassionfruits @slaymewithaspoon @hunbomb @lanassmarty @zxaera @silversprings-mp3 @velvrei

[jjunieworld]

I WANNA BE YOURS ˒˒ 최연준͏ ▸ 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗍𝗐𝗈 𝗈𝖿 𝗰𝗲𝗶𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀

after confessing your feelings and not getting the reaction you hoped for, you decided to cut contact and avoid yeonjun. the only thing is that he refuses to let you go that easily and is determined to show you that your two worlds can collide.

pairing ⸝⸝ choi yeonjun 𝑥 fem!reader 𓄵 𝓯eat. ꔛ 𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘦!𝘣𝘦𝘰𝘮𝘨𝘺𝘶 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘥!𝘵𝘢𝘦𝘩𝘺𝘶𝘯

genre ⋆ 📓 ⸝⸝ secret friends with benefits to ??? to lovers, angst, smut, secret relationship, opposites attract, punk!yeonjun, nerd!reader, reader wears glasses, punk x nerd trope, some bad boy x good girl trope, slice of life, college au

warnings ⸝⸝ heartbreak, unprotected sex, soft dom!yeonjun, kinda service!top yeonjun, heavy praise kink, marking, petnames (baby, sweetheart, good girl, babygirl), creampie, multiple orgasms, a lot more desperation and neediness lmao, pussy drunk!yeonjun, body worship, clit stimulation, overstimulation, squirting, fingering, dirty talk, some aftercare

kipo’s note ⸝⸝ hehe here’s part two finally for everybody who wanted it for ceilings!! this is inspired by the songs i wanna be yours by arctic monkeys and corner by sace6!! made it extra angsty for you guys since i know you all like the pain (me too) :3 hehe i hope that you like it as much as part one and that the ending is satisfying! (ʃƪ〃ﾟ3ﾟ〃)♡ enjoy my loves!!!

͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏  ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏  ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ❨ 9k ❩ ╱ ❨ 𝓶.list ❩ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏  ͏ ͏  ︵͡   𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 (⌒‿⌒)♡

you have been ignoring choi yeonjun, you can finally admit to it now. for a week you’ve been dodging him if you even caught a glimpse of his orange hair with blonde streaks.

you knew it was ridiculous, but how could you ever face him with what happened in your room the last time you saw him? the answer: you don’t face him at all.

of course he noticed, you were now actively avoiding him and not trying to hide it anymore. if you happened to be quickly scurrying past him to get to where you needed to be—which for the past week he always made sure to be near—you could feel his heavy gaze linger on you. yet, he hasn’t stopped by your room at all or even sent you a quick text.

there was now this… awkward tension between the two of you. tension that clearly neither of you knew how to address. and you could see it in his eyes, he wanted to say something to you so desperately, but he kept his mouth shut. and so did you. at this point, you were content in never opening your mouth again.

it’s gotten to the point where even his friends have been questioning him.

“do you know her? why are you staring at her so much?” they would ask him. his answer was always the same variation of this reply: “i’ve seen her around a couple times. we have some classes together.” followed by some lie he quickly made up off the top of his head to explain why his eyes were on you. never the truth.

the fact of the matter is that he doesn’t feel the same way about you, so what’s the point in continuing this secret relationship the two of you have? you were in love with him, but he wasn’t in love with you. two puzzle pieces from two seperate boards—you’d never go together. the two of you should just part ways now while everything was all out on the table.

it was a mistake, confessing your feelings for him, but there was nothing you could do about it now but pretend it never happened. and pretend that you never got involved with choi yeonjun.

you pulled the turtleneck further up your neck as you ducked next to where the outside water fountains were, chest rising heavily as your eyes darted to the side. you hoped yeonjun didn’t see you. sighing to yourself softly, you pulled your phone out and checked the love bites on your neck. they were almost faded now, but every time you looked at them you can’t help but think of that night and a sharp pain erupts in your chest.

you moved to leave before you were suddenly cornered against the brick wall of the campus building you ducked behind. you smelt his familiar cologne before you saw his face and dyed hair. “we have to talk. you can’t keep avoiding me.”

your heartbeat suddenly picked up and you quickly swallowed down the lump forming in your throat. “we have nothing to talk about,” you replied, eyes locked on the band tee he was wearing.

it was a lie, you knew that. you knew that at some point the two of you had to talk about your confession, but you desperately wished he would just let it go and pretend like it never happened like you were.

“don’t bullshit me, y/n,” yeonjun countered, leaning into your ear.

you eyes traveled up to the skull necklace you have gifted him. slight surprise coursed through you at the fact that he still wore it—at the fact that he wore it at all. your eyes then locked on his and you gathered all the firmness you could to add to your stare.

“you clearly don’t feel the same way that i do, yeonjun. let’s just leave it at that.” as you spoke, a small group of students passed by the corner you both were tucked in. yeonjun frantically backed away from you and checked your surroundings, eyes darting from place to place.

you scoffed to yourself. how ridiculous. “you don’t even want to be seen in public with me,” you continued, deep hurt creeping in the edges of your voice.

yeonjun’s eyes darted back to yours and he quickly stepped towards you. “it’s complicated,” he said.

“it’s… complicated...” you shook your head at him in disbelief as you slowly repeated his words, words growing in volume as you went on. “it isn’t, yeonjun. it really isn’t. trigonometry is complicated, this is—”

“i want to be with you,” he interrupted, voice just above a whisper, and grabbed your hands in his. yeonjun’s face was pleading, and almost desperate, but you were done. you were done being second choice to whatever he put ahead of you.

for months you were with him in the four corners of your room and you didn’t share a single complaint as long as the two of you were together. but now that he didn’t even want to be seen with you where others could possibly see, you were done.

you snatched your hands from his and yeonjun’s eyebrows shot up. “in secret! without any strings attached—but i can’t keep doing this with you. i can’t be with someone who only wants to be with me in private, who doesn’t want to be with me at all. i won’t allow myself.”

as you were pouring your everything onto the floor in front of yeonjun, you watched as he still glanced around the two of you, making sure that nobody was listening to your words. in real time, you felt your heart crack and shatter into a million pieces. all you could do was sigh defeatedly.

you turned towards the building you were originally heading for, no doubt late for the class you were supposed to be at, and began walking off. you felt yeonjun’s hand wrap around your wrist and pull you back.

your mouth opened in protest but the sound was quickly smothered as his lips smashed onto yours. you froze, heartbeat racing even further. hate sunk deep into the pit of your stomach. you hated how you melted into his touch and how your heart beat so fast it felt like it might explode. you hated how good his lips felt on yours—how familiar they felt and how much you missed the feeling.

you pushed him away from you, shock clear on your face as you looked up at him. in the seconds it took you to register that he just kissed you again for the first time after a week, your eyes darted to the side. to the completely empty campus. not a soul could be seen for miles. you looked back at him.

tears sprang to your eyes and this time you couldn’t stop the ones that managed to escape in his presence. you shook your head once again. “it’s over, yeonjun.” you broke free of him, hurt now showing through full force in your voice. “whatever we had… it’s over.”

you walked off, leaving his frozen figure behind you.

pushing your textbooks to the side, you sighed heavily to yourself. no matter what you did, you couldn’t focus—and that was unusual for you when it came to your studies. exams were just around the corner and you couldn’t afford to be distracted.

you removed your glasses and pinched the bridge of your nose. the only thing that stuck in your mind was your last conversation with yeonjun. slumping down onto the table in front of you, you looked around at the quiet library. you just couldn’t understand it.

did the opinions of his friends and strangers really matter that much to him? were you really not enough for him that he just had to keep you secret? what was it? yeonjun claimed that he wanted the two of you together, but he hesitates at the two of you being seen in public together. it made your mind twist and run in circles trying to figure it all out.

if he just wanted to be friends with benefits, why not find someone else? he could’ve saved you both the trouble. and you were sure there would be people jumping at the opportunity of that kind of relationship with him—but, not you.

you put your glasses back on as you sighed again. you hated to think it, but you couldn’t help the thoughts that ran through your head. what could you do to be enough for him?

how could you change yourself so that he wasn’t ashamed to be with you?

did you have to dye your hair a bright color? get rid of your argyle sweaters and longer-length skirts and instead wear darker clothes, more shorter skirts, and listen to the same rock music that he did? sport the frilly black dresses or the tighter, more vibrant clothing his female friends did? be more opinionated and vulgar and really speak your mind? 

it was clear that you weren’t retaining any information from your textbooks. you started to pack up, returning books back to where you found them and putting your notebooks back in your bag. you thought over every interaction you’ve ever had with yeonjun; how every moment led you to where the two of you were now. you could only think of one thing.

maybe you and yeonjun were two puzzle pieces from two seperate boards—and maybe you were trying too hard to force yourselves to fit together. maybe doing so has pushed you and yeonjun into a corner that neither of you knew how to get out of now.

without realizing the time, night had fallen around you and you stepped out into the coldness of the outside world. you looked up towards the starless sky.

perhaps the two of you should just stick to what you both know, instead of trying to go outside of the box.

yeonjun twirled the small skull necklace that you had gifted him between his fingers as he zoned out from the conversation his friends were having. he thought back to that night almost two weeks ago now, how you basically confessed that you were in love with him in your room. it still caught him off guard.

at first he thought that you were joking, until your heavy silence followed immediately after. he wanted to go back and say something other than what he did—wanted to kick himself for hesitating. yeonjun wanted to kick himself now for still hesitating.

he wasn’t exactly sure how to describe the feelings he felt for you, this whole thing was new to him. yeonjun didn’t do relationships. but, it was clear that you did. and he wanted you.

yeonjun wasn’t the flashy type or the openly affectionate type either. he honestly wasn’t sure that he could give you what you so desperately wanted from him. yet, he just couldn’t seem to let go of you either. was it selfish? yes. but, yeonjun didn’t care. not when you were slipping from his grasp.

with the other girls he’s been with it was easy. they never fell for him or expected more than the physical relationship that he had with them. they all knew what they were getting and took it at face value for what it was. but you were different—and he was different with you. yeonjun couldn’t explain to himself what set you apart, there was just something about you. all he knew was that he liked the change. he liked the different relationship the two of you had, and he was willing to do anything to keep it.

yeonjun just so happened to glance up as you were scurrying across the campus yard a couple feet away from him. he saw the way that you tried to avoid his stare, but still snuck the quickest of looks in his direction, trying to disguise it as you pushing your glasses up the bridge of your nose. the corners of his lips rose the slightest bit. he had to talk to you again, make you see that calling off what the two of you had was the wrong choice.

a finger snapped in his face and his eyes focused back to his friends. “where has your head been at lately?” his friend, beomgyu, asked. he turned, his long brown hair falling into his eyes as he followed yeonjun’s gaze, “and what is it with you and that girl?”

yeonjun straightened as he tore his gaze away from you and brought beomgyu’s attention back to him. “nothing, i was just zoned out.” he purposefully ignored beomgyu’s second question.

beomgyu thankfully turned back to him, his eyes now focusing on something else entirely. “where did you get that necklace? you’ve never worn one before that.”

“uh, i don’t know? some random store i was getting clothes from, it caught my eye—why are you asking me so many questions? mind your business.” he dropped the necklace from his fingers. yeonjun didn’t have time to explain something he wasn’t quite sure of himself, not when he had to catch up to you. “i gotta go,” yeonjun quickly added, pushing away from his group of friends as he jogged in the direction you went in.

behind him, he heard beomgyu say to his other friends, “you think him and that girl are involved?” another one of his friends’ voices piped up. “the nerd? definitely not. she’s not his type.”

“i don’t know…” beomgyu trailed, “they would look cute together. there’s gotta be something happening at the very least.”

thankfully you hadn’t gone that far and yeonjun was able to catch up to you easily. he grabbed your wrist, pulling you away from prying eyes and somewhere more private. you turned in his grasp, looking up at him with an almost defeated and annoyed look.

“this can’t be over,” he started. you looked around before turning to walk away, but not before yeonjun held your wrist again, keeping you in place. “tell me what to do to fix this—help me fix this.”

yeonjun was kicking himself again for not knowing the words to express what he wanted to say. suddenly all the vocabulary he’d ever fucking learned disappears when he tries to talk to you and he ends up a bumbling mess.

“help you fix this?” you repeated.

yeonjun nodded, “yes. i wanna be with you—i wanna be yours. if you want a relationship, then we can have one.”

you tilted your head to the side and adjusted your glasses as you looked at him. “so if i were to go up to your friends with you right now and introduce myself as your girlfriend you wouldn’t have a problem with it?” you asked him, glancing back to the direction yeonjun came from mere moments before. yeonjun hesitated, stammering over his words. his tongue felt too heavy in his mouth.

you just scoffed to yourself at him. “you still don’t get it,” you said. “i don’t want to be another girl that you hook up with—another girl that you like. i want to be the girl that you like. i want to be more.”

hatred bubbled up inside you and threatened to spill over at the fact that you were still in love with him. at the fact that you were still wrapped around his finger to the point that you almost jumped at the opportunity of a relationship. yeonjun was just saying that to appease you—to get you naked and under him again and have things return to the way they were before.

resentment started to build towards yeonjun at the secrecy. it was a lot easier to blame him for how your relationship went up in flames instead of how flawed it was to begin with. besides, it felt good to restrict yourself from him—to have him stare at you as you passed while you ignored him instead, even if you still missed him and his touch.

you knew that this was all doing more harm than good, but right now you just couldn’t seem to care. maybe yeonjun’s attitude was finally starting to rub off on you and he was getting a taste of his own medicine.

yeonjun’s brows knitted together at your words. “you are the girl that i like,” he said, “there’s nobody else but you.”

you stared at him for a moment in silence. in a melancholic voice you asked, “why do you like me?”

yeonjun could feel you drifting further and further away from him and he didn’t like it. he wanted to pin you to his chest so that you always stayed close—like the necklace around his neck you gave him. his mind raced and there felt like there was sand in his mouth as he raced against the hourglass of time that the two of you had left—and still, he came up empty once again.

it wasn’t that he didn’t have any reasons for liking you—he had plenty—it was just that there were so many that his brain short-circuited. if you just gave him the time and a pen and paper he could make whole novels. but time was running out and yeonjun watched as your face fell more and more the longer the seconds ticked by.

“because of the sex?” you asked, voice raising. yeonjun looked around the two of you before sighing and cupping your face with his hands as he shook his head. something inside him cracked at the way your eyes started to become glassy. “does the thrill of you sneaking into my window at night knowing that nobody would ever expect the two of us together excite you?” you continued. “genuinely, what is it, yeonjun? help me understand.”

glassy tears fell down your cheeks and yeonjun felt himself shatter. he tried to pull you closer to him, to comfort you, but you pushed him away. you shook your head as your gaze dropped to the ground. “you really know how to break my heart in two, don’t you?” you asked in a small voice as you looked up at him, completely defeated.

you turned and moved to leave. yeonjun tried to grab your hand, but the only thing he was able to grasp was the fleeting touch of your fingertips against his as you got further away from him. he stood completely rooted to the spot you left him in, frozen, as he watched you disappear.

suddenly everything yeonjun wanted to say to you crashed into him like a wave, but he was too late. he twisted towards the trash can next to him and gave it an angry and harsh kick, causing it to fly across the grass. students passing by jumped at the sudden noise and looked yeonjun’s way, but he couldn’t care less.

yeonjun buried his head in his hands and pulled at the tips of his hair. “fuck!” he yelled, running his hands messily through his hair. he looked up and saw a couple of students looking at him. “what the fuck are you looking at?” he angrily called out to them as he briskly walked away.

whether you intended to or not, you started to change yourself. your sweaters got darker, your skirts got shorter, and you even started to put on a hint of eyeliner before leaving. when you looked at yourself in the mirror it almost felt like there was a stranger staring back; it was you but it wasn’t at the same time. like you were wearing a cheap costume and pretending to be something that you weren’t.

you withdrawled more and more into yourself, only really emerging to take your exams and to study. you felt so bleak that even the darkness of your clothes didn’t light a match onto the way you felt inside. even your friends started to notice.

“so is this a new look you’re going for?” taehyun asked, his eyes looking over you. you shrugged and finished writing the sentence you were writing in your notebook. “i never even seen you wear black before and… is—is that eyeliner?” he added, moving closer to you until you were face to face.

you made a face and pushed him away. “it’s makeup and clothes, why does it matter to you?” you bit back, tone sharp. you didn’t mean to be so snappy with taehyun, it seemed you haven’t had the patience lately. you shifted in your seat, adjusting your skirt and sweater. the weather was getting colder during the daytime, so you decided to wear some black tights and boots.

taehyun just gave you a look, “you don’t seem yourself—you haven’t been yourself, y/n. what’s going on with you?” you looked back at him with a glare, pushing your glasses up the bridge of your nose.

scoffing, you hurriedly threw your things back into your bag. “nothing,” you pushed out, “i am completely myself. just because i wear different clothes and makeup from time to time doesn’t mean i’m not myself.” you stood from the table and threw your bag over your shoulders.

adjusting your skirt again, you swirled to where taehyun still sat, a shocked expression on his face from your outburst. “maybe you should learn to not stick your nose into other people’s business.” with that, you stormed out of the student lounge.

you were heading towards the library to continue studying when your phone buzzed. you fished it from your bag, seeing what it was from. you stopped dead in your tracks right in the middle of the sidewalk. it was yeonjun.

the wall you had painstakingly built up around you started to crack as you read his incoming messages and you felt your knees start to get weak. you were doing so well ignoring and avoiding him, how could you let a simple text from him have all of it come crashing down?

yeonjun: baby. yeonjun: i really need to talk to you.

you have come so far with shutting him out of your heart, yet one little message has all of your love for him flood back into you. why now? it’s been weeks, you were finally starting to try to move on; why would he make you love him again?

it was enough to feel his eyes on you—always on you, no matter where you went anywhere in his presence. you could almost hear his voice in your head with the way he radiated onto you. you knew he wanted to talk to you again, but he held back. it angered you. for once you just wanted him to spit it out, spit out the words hiding behind his tongue instead of always holding back.

you wanted him to fight for you, to show you that he cares about you—you, and not just what you could offer him. not your help with his studies, not the excitement he got from sneaking around with you, and not the sex. you wanted him to hold you like he never wanted to let you go ever again. and if you tried hard enough, you could almost feel his skin on yours again—and damn if you didn’t miss it all.

you heaved in a shaky breath as you stared at the messages. with another shaky breath, you pushed your phone back into your bag and kept walking to the library.

another starless night greeted you as you finished all the work you needed to do today. the cold air nipped at your cheeks and you made your way through the quiet streets back to your apartment.

you pushed open your front door, thankful to finally be home and take some of the stress off your back. you dropped your bag near the entrance and made your way to your room so you could shower the day away.

opening your bedroom door, you froze in complete shock. yeonjun sat on your floor, his back pressed up against the bottom edge of your bed as he idly flipped through one of your textbooks. he looked up at your entrance and his eyes immediately flicked over you. yeonjun flipped the textbook closed without looking at it and tossed it to the side as he stood.

you inhaled sharply, your brows drawing together. mentally, you cursed yourself for stupidly forgetting to lock your window. it’s been unlocked for yeonjun for so long now that you completely forgot about it. you stumbled over your words as yeonjun took a step closer to you. “w-what the fuck?” you murmured.

yeonjun raised a brow at your words.

he took another step towards you and his eyes trailed along your body, taking in every inch of you. “you look… different,” yeonjun said, his eyes finally meeting yours. it almost made you collapse. “it seems like i’m finally rubbing off on you.”

you swallowed the lump in your throat as you stepped into the room. you moved to your dresser and began taking out some pajamas, turning your back towards yeonjun so he didn’t see the way you hands shook. “why are you here?” you spoke. your mouth felt dry and your voice came out almost hoarse.

behind you, you heard yeonjun’s footsteps move closer to you. “i needed to see you,” he replied. “hear your voice again… i missed you.”

when you didn’t respond, yeonjun gently grabbed your arm. sparks exploded from his touch and your heart rate picked up. you sat the clothes on the top of your dresser and tightened your hands into fists. “talk to me, baby. we can’t keep just passing by each other like we don’t know one another,” yeonjun added, his voice low in the quiet room.

you turned to face him, your face full of anger. “what? now it’s too much when i ignore you but it wasn’t when you were ignoring me?” you pushed him away from you and moved towards where your desk was to get away from him. “now that you’re getting a taste of how i feel, it's bitter, huh? it’s rotting you to the core, isn’t it?” you added sarcastically.

yeonjun looked at you from across the room, “it is. it fucking is and it sucks and i’m sorry. i never knew you felt this way. if i did, i never would’ve put you through it.” yeonjun took a couple steps towards you and you held out a hand to stop him. “but, i know now. i know now and i’ll make a million promises to never put you through it again.” you scoffed.

“you bring out the best in me,” yeonjun said, running a hand through his faded dyed hair. “we bring out the best in each other, you know that. and this… this isn’t you, y/n.”

you rose your chin slightly in defiance. “and what if this is me?” you countered. “don’t you like it?”

yeonjun hummed and for a moment he was quiet. you could see the gears turning and turning in his head as he took in your appearance once again, making his way closer and closer to you until he stood mere inches away from you. you watched as his eyes dragged up your body before finally connecting with yours once more. “i like the real you,” yeonjun said.

your little defiant act fell flat and you looked away from him, licking your lips.

“i like your preppy looking clothes and how it makes you light up a room. i like the way your glasses fall down when you’re focusing on something too hard to notice and i have to adjust them for you—i like how you don’t even notice that i do it sometimes.” yeonjun took a small step towards you and your breath hitched. he reached forward and adjusted your glasses for you.

the tips of his fingers grazed over your cheek and you felt the fire light underneath you, making heat spread all throughout your body. you looked at him again, his eyes boring into yours and softening at your gaze. without realizing it, you leaned into his touch.

yeonjun continued, the pad of his thumb dragging along your chin. “i like how soft your skin is, and the way it feels against mine. i like the way i can feel your body heat up like a crackling fire when i touch you and how your heart thumps out of your skin. i like feeling you close to me.” he then closed the distance between the two of you so that you were now pressed close to him.

the heat of his body thawed you completely; crumbled down the walls you built and forced out the feelings you desperately tried to hide. yeonjun took in every inch of your face, like it was one he hasn’t seen for centuries, as he spoke, “i like how when we’re apart, i crave you. i like the way my body reacts to yours everytime you’re near. it’s like you send a shockwave through me and every fiber of my being is alight; like i finally see clearly—and all i want to look at is you. i didn’t understand what it all meant, why you felt so different—why i felt so different, but i do now. i like who i am when i’m with you.”

his lips brushed at the shell of your ear, “i like that we’re different. i like that we drive each other crazy, because then it means that we care about each other. i like you. not some other girl, not this version of you that you think i’d like—you.” yeonjun’s lips were feather-light across your jaw. he was so close to you that if you were to lean forward the slightest bit, your lips would meet. “enough with all of this. let me feel you again.”

yeonjun pressed his lips to your in the most searing kiss you’ve ever had in your life. like you were the flint and he was the steel and your kiss was the spark that set everything ablaze. you let out a small gasp against his lips from the heat of it all. it felt so surreal, like watching lightning strike across the night sky and making it almost seem like day. the more your lips moved in sync, the more lightning there was, the more the sky brightened until it was an electrifying battle between night and day.

your hands moved up yeonjun’s chest as he wrapped his arms around your waist to pull you even closer. if your hands weren’t in the way, you were sure that your rapid heartbeats would be in perfect sync, too. if your kiss was the lightning, your hearts were the booming thunder, demanding to be heard—demanding to be felt.

after the two of you were fighting for oxygen in your deprived lungs, you pulled away just the slightest bit to gulp in heavy breaths. with the last strength inside you, you pushed at yeonjun’s chest and turned your head to the side. he didn’t move far, his grip around your waist refusing to be broken. you could feel his confusion and he pressed a light kiss to your burning cheek.

you turned your gaze to your ceiling, the ceiling that you’ve spent so many days staring at and daydreaming about a relationship that you didn’t have. even with yeonjun’s words, it all still felt too good to be true. it felt like if you were to look over at your bed, you would see yourself laying there, eyes on the ceiling, lost in the world you have created.

storm clouds drifted over you. what if he was only saying what you wanted to hear? what he needed to say to you so you’d lay yourself completely bare in front of him again. you didn’t think you could have the stars come crashing down around you again if you let yourself let yeonjun hang them in the sky for you.

you dragged your gaze from your ceiling back to yeonjun’s confused stare. a pained expression flickered across your face and you tried to hide it the best you could. you swallowed, and barely above a whisper you said, “if you just want some girl to fuck, find someone else.”

you tried to push him away more, but the more you pushed, the more he pulled you back into him. until your chest was up against his and you were flush against his body—and still, he pulled you closer; like the slightest leeway between you two would destroy him. like if he didn’t hold you close you would disappear. you felt the way his heartbeat picked up even more and saw the desperation appear in his eyes as his brows knitted together and he shook his head.

“it’s not like that and you know it,” yeonjun said, his voice matching the tone of yours. “i don’t want to fuck just any girl, i want to fuck you.”

ever vulgar, yeonjun’s words, but you knew deep down that he meant what he said. and you knew that he wasn’t just talking about the sex. his fingers wandered up your sides, cautiously exploring your body on their own accord. your eyes fluttered shut briefly as you inhaled deeply. “i want to feel you, be with you,” yeonjun continued.

yeonjun caught your lips in another kiss and this time you couldn’t stop yourself from melting into his touch. you felt his need through the kiss and you were sure he could feel yours, too. the two of you stumbled backwards a couple steps and you wrapped your arms around his neck to keep yourself stable, your lips never leaving his. his tongue slipped into your mouth and danced with yours.

the clouds parted and one by one stars started to twinkle in the night sky. no longer were your skies starless. it was all too much all at once and you tore yourself away from yeonjun, shaking your head. “i can’t…” you whispered, breath haggard, “i can’t keep doing this with you. not after everything.”

yeonjun cupped your face so you would look at him again. tears welled up in your eyes and you were just so overwhelmed. you didn’t know what to do, didn’t know if you could put your love somewhere where it could be shattered again. not after you were still picking up all of the pieces of your heart.

“so let me take the lead,” yeonjun said. “let me show you how much i want you. how much i need you.”

his lips were on yours again as he backed you up towards your bed. the back of your knees hit the edge and you fell down onto it, looking up at yeonjun with a melodramatic stare. he kicked off his boots and shrugged off the black leather jacket he wore, letting it fall to a heap on your floor. yeonjun then grabbed the bottom hem of your black, argyle sweater and pulled it off of you, tossing it to the side next to where his jacket laid.

“i really do like you, you know that right?” he asked you as he stripped off one of his various band tees that he wore. you nodded and yeonjun nodded along with you. his fingers hooked under your skirt, “yeah? good.”

in one swift motion he pulled off your skirt, tights, and your panties underneath, tossing them carelessly to the side by the rest of your clothes. you were only left in your bra as you crawled backwards up your bed.

yeonjun slowly unbuckled the belt in his jeans. “you really like me?” you asked shyly, pressing your legs together and leaning them to the side. the corners of yeonjun’s lips rose. his eyes sparkled in the low lamplight and it made the smudged eyeliner around his eyes appear darker. “of course i do, babygirl.”

his voice was full of amusement, like you just asked him if the sky was blue. heat flushed your face and pooled at the pit in your stomach. you suppose it was a silly question, considering all that he said to you tonight.

yeonjun pulled down his black jeans, exposing the large bulge in his boxers. “i like like you, sweetheart. i think i’ve made that pretty obvious tonight.”

you inhaled sharply, your eyes trailing over him and the articles of clothing that kept disappearing from his body. he pushed down his boxers and his large cock sprang free, precum already glittering from the slit. he looked back up at you and your heart stopped.

yeonjun got up onto the bed and moved toward you until you were caged beneath his body. he reached behind you and stripped off your bra, lips hovering over your exposed breasts. you felt his warm breath against your skin and shivered.

“i can spend the whole night listing off every little thing i like about you,” he said in a low voice that your ears just managed to catch through the ringing in your ears. yeonjun pressed chaste kisses from your breasts, to your chest, and all the way up to where he placed a kiss on your lips. “but i’d rather just show you instead, don’t you think?”

he dipped his head into the crook of your neck while his hands trailed down your body. you pulsated with need and desire for him, and your hands splayed across his back and pulled him closer. yeonjun chuckled lowly, the vibrations sending waves throughout your body. his hand moved between your legs and spread your wetness throughout your folds before his thumb rubbed circles into your clit.

you gasped, clutching tighter to him as your back arched. yeonjun pulled away from your neck, his thumb still drawing circles, as he looked at you through his dyed hair. you caught sight of the small skull necklace you gave him resting against his collarbones. even after everything, he never took it off. you swallowed thickly and nodded at his previous question.

yeonjun’s lips brushed against yours and he pushed you back onto the bed so that he hovered over you. the necklace you gave him dangled right beneath your lips and every so often you could feel the cold metal against them. yeonjun’s head tilted to the side, “do you want me to list everything, or do you want me to fuck you instead?”

your mouth opened but no words came out, only a small moan as your hips lifted towards his hand. yeonjun hummed, stopping his movements and you almost whined at the loss of friction. “what’s it gonna be?” he asked, pretty lips attaching to your neck with open-mouthed kisses before nipping at the soft skin to leave marks in his wake.

“p-please,” you begged, lifting your hips towards his hand again in a desperate attempt for friction. “please fuck me.”

yeonjun smiled against your skin and his thumb finally continued to circle the sensitive nub. you whimpered at the sudden contact, wrapping your legs around his waist. “good girl,” yeonjun praised. he reached for one of your pillows and had you lift your hips so he could place it under them.

he grabbed his cock, stroking it along your wet folds. “because tonight, you’re all mine. and i like keeping you all to myself. i don’t like sharing.”

yeonjun pushed into you with a low grunt and you swear you felt him deeper than you ever have before. you gasped loudly at how you could feel all of him inside you and how full it made you feel. it felt like the two of you finally fit together—no longer were you both forcing each other into a board you didn’t belong to. now, there was a whole new puzzle board, one to which you both belonged.

with a slow starting pace, yeonjun thrusted into you. “how’s that, baby? does that feel good?” the wet sound of his cock dragging in and out of you and the slight slap of skin hitting skin put you in a frenzy and turned you on even more. you moaned loudly as you nodded.

“you’re taking me so well,” yeonjun said, hands grabbing your hips and pushing them down into the pillow. he increased his pace, the lewd sounds growing louder with every thrust. “gonna fuck your pretty pussy full of my cum and make you feel so good you’ll be crying my name for the rest of the month.”

his hands on your hips prevented you from rolling them up towards him, but it didn’t stop the way you back arched off your sheets. loud moans fell from your parted lips and yeonjun leaned down you kiss you, cock still thrusting into you. you moaned against his mouth from the waves of pleasure coursing through your body. “don’t stop,” you breathed, arms wrapping around his neck.

“trust me, i don’t intend to,” yeonjun said huskily. a moan parted from him and you could feel the rope in your stomach tighten. “your pretty little pussy is gonna stay wrapped around my cock all night.”

you hands pulled at the tips of his hair as you clenched down hard against him. yeonjun pulled away from your lips, a whimper leaving his mouth as he looked down between your bodies. “fuck,” he muttered in a low whine and his hands moved up your body and to your breasts. he grabbed at them as you rocked your hips upwards.

you were a whimpering mess underneath him, and if he wasn’t making you feel so good right now you’d be a bit embarrassed by how desperate you felt clawing at his skin and pulling at his hair. your body moved on it’s own as you tried to gain the most pleasure that you possibly could. your head dug into your pillow and your back arched so high that there was no need for the pillow underneath your hips because you were practically floating. 

“please…” you trailed, eyes rolling backwards briefly as heavy breaths pushed past your lips. you were so, so close. you felt so good that you could see stars again.

“shh, shh, shh,” yeonjun shushed you, his face in your neck leaving soft kisses. “i got you, baby. just let go.”

with one perfectly timed roll of your hips your body shook as the rope inside you snapped. you cried out as your release started to pour out of you and leave a white ring around yeonjun’s cock. he groaned at the sight, still thrusting into you, and your body felt limp and heavy. you started to squirm and yeonjun moved your legs from his waist and pinned them to your chest.

“shit, look at how pretty,” he almost laughed as he watched his cock disappear inside of you and reappear covered in cum. “and it’s all for me. my good girl, you made such a mess.”

your skin slapping against his, sticky with cum, sent you over the edge. you were torn between wanting more of him and wanting to push him away from all the overstimulation. it was all too much and you dug your fingers into your blanket. “jjunie,” you cried out in a gasp, your tongue heavy in your mouth, “c-can’t…”

yeonjun fucked deeper into you, amazed at your glistening pussy and your arousal for him. he hit just the right place that had you crying out more for him. he firmly held onto the back of your knees that were pressed to your chest as he trailed his gaze up your body. “just a little more, sweetheart. you can handle it.”

he threw his head back, his eyes fluttering closed, as he completely lost himself in you. you were taking him so good he never wanted to leave. all he wanted was to keep you like this, his hard cock buried deep inside of you as he pulled orgasm after orgasm from your shaking body. he wanted to fill you up with so much of his cum that it flowed like a river out of you when he did finally pull himself out. you were everything he wanted—everything he needed, and more. and he never wanted to let you go ever again.

yeonjun buried himself completely inside you, barely pulling out before trying to bury himself deeper into you. he moaned loudly as he looked down at your spent body, you were fucked out of you pretty little mind and he was close to it. white ropes of cum shot inside you until it had no choice but to squeeze out from around yeonjun’s thick cock. yeonjun blissfully exhaled, his firm grip on you loosening.

leaning towards you, he fixed your crooked and slightly fogged up glasses that fell down your nose bridge. yeonjun’s chest rose and fell heavily as he smiled at you, kissing you deeply. “good, babygirl. you did very good for me,” he murmured before pressing his lips to the sensitive marks he left on your skin. you felt his smile when you shivered slightly. “do you feel good?”

you felt as he shallowly thrusted into you, the tip of his cock hitting that sweet spot again. your voice caught in your throat as you clung to him and nodded. you felt your legs shake even more. yeonjun just chuckled, his nose dragging along your jaw before he pulled away. “good. let me make you feel even better.”

yeonjun slowly pulled out of you, watching the way his cum spilled out of your spent cunt and down the curve of your ass. he took his thumb and pushed it back into you, eyes twinkling. you whined from his actions and squirmed to the side but yeonjun held you in place.

suddenly, he buried two of his fingers into you. you gasped, “can’t t-take anymore!” your eyes screwed shut. yeonjun pumped his fingers inside you at a rapid pace and held your body in place with his other hand. “do you want me to stop?” he asked as his fingers curled inside you.

you cried out, voice almost a hoarse scream as you quickly shook your head. “n-no!” yeonjun hummed in satisfied response.

loud, squelching sounds bounced off the walls of your room from your wet pussy. you felt like you were gonna black out the closer yeonjun’s fingers brought you to another orgasm. you shook so hard and moaned so loud that it felt like your body had a mind of its own. suddenly, your brows drew together and you tried to quickly push yeonjun away from you.

it was too late. liquid sprayed from you and all over yeonjun. your body went limp as you went from shaking all over to trembling. yeonjun froze, his fingers still inside of you. you didn’t even have the energy to be embarrassed at the fact that you just squirted all over him.

yeonjun’s eyes were wide as they trailed over your body. then his face brightened into a prideful and smug expression, the corners of his mouth raising. “fuck, baby, that was so hot.” he was practically beaming as he pulled his fingers from you, hand completely wet. you whimpered at the loss, eyes closing.

he wrapped his hands around your back and pulled you up. “come on, babygirl. let’s get you cleaned up before i make you do that again.”

after getting you and your sheets all cleaned up, the two of you laid in your bed—half naked—as your lips moved in sync in a slow kiss. you were basically pinned to yeonjun and the more the two of you kissed, the closer he pressed you against him. you both didn’t even realize that it had been hours and it was already deep into the night until it clicked in your brain that you had a busy schedule tomorrow.

you didn’t want to say anything, though, because that meant that yeonjun would leave soon. you didn’t want him to go. you were afraid that if he did the illusion would be shattered—that none of what happened tonight was actually real and you made it all up in your despairing sadness.

it seemed that yeonjun remembered, unfortunately. he pulled away from your lips, moving the two of you so that you had some space and weren’t pinned to him anymore. “i gotta go, baby.” his face showed that he wanted to do anything but that.

he sat up and moved to stand, but before he could you grabbed his wrist. with a look full of sorrow and desperation, you said, “stay… don’t go.”

yeonjun paused and looked back at you—really looked at you. he saw all the cracks inside you that he caused, every single last one. he saw the glassy tears start to form in your eyes.

he was determined to mend them all—determined to make you whole again.

yeonjun turned back towards you, nodding. he leaned down to take off your glasses and sat them on your nightstand. he then reached over to your lamp and shut it off, basking the two of you into darkness. then, he climbed back into the bed with you and pulled you close to his chest.

in the morning, you woke up before he did. sunlight filtered through your blinds and made his orange hair look even more bright and saturated. gently, you reached up and took on of the blonde streaks between your fingers before dropping it and moving closer to him.

you were shocked that yeonjun was still here in the bed next to you, that this wasn’t all a dream like you thought it was. he was actually here with you. you heart fluttered in your chest and all you could do was stare adoringly at him.

you didn’t realize that you must’ve been staring for a while because suddenly yeonjun’s sleepy voice filled your ears. “i can feel you staring,” he said groggily.

embarrassment filled you, but you just couldn’t tear your eyes away from him. yeonjun cracked an eye open before his face scrunched together from the bright light of the sun. “god, why is it so fucking bright in here?” he complained.

you giggled at his reaction and his arms snaked around you and pulled you to him. yeonjun buried his face into your neck to shield himself from the sunshine. “you should probably get use to the daylight,” you smiled, “‘cause i think we’re late for our morning classes.” yeonjun just groaned.

he peeked his head out to look at you. “hey…” he trailed off, eyes darting away from you hesitantly. you furrowed your brows. “yeah?” you replied.

yeonjun inhaled sharply and it looked like he was trying to find the right words to say. “i should’ve said it earlier—should’ve said it that night. but… i just didn’t know what it all meant.” you looked at him confused, urging him to go on. yeonjun sighed and turned away from you to dig the heels of his palms into his eyes. he then turned back to you, brows drawn together. “i… i don’t just like you,” he started it, “i’m in love with you.”

your eyes widened and your heart soared out of your chest. you couldn’t help the smile that formed on your face. “really?” you asked, voice small. “you’re not just saying that?”

yeonjun fully turned back to you and cupped your cheek with his hand. he nodded, “i mean it. i’m not just saying it just to say it.”

you searched his eyes for a moment, looking for any hint of a lie but all you saw was sincerity. you then moved forward and pressed your lips to his. “well, you already know how i feel…” you trailed, pulling away from his lips ever so slightly.

yeonjun laughed, “i do.” his lips met your again and it was everything you ever needed. never again did you want another starless night, not when yeonjun makes your skies so full of stars.

you were leaving your class and crossing the campus when a hand intertwined with yours. you looked over and yeonjun smiled down at you, walking alongside you. you were still a little shocked at the public display despite the fact that it’s been a couple of days.

yeonjun pressed a kiss to your cheek. “walk with me?” he asked. “i want you to meet my friends.”

you both slowed to a stop and you looked at him with wide eyes, causing him to laugh. “they’re cool, i promise!” you looked around nervously. what if after all of this they didn’t like you? that yeonjun was right to initially keep your—then—secret relationship from them? you sighed, nodding a little, “o-okay…”

he pulled you in a different direction and in the distance you saw a small group of people hanging around. your heart thumped more and more the closer you got to them. when you stood in front of them, hand in hand with yeonjun, you gave them a nervous smile. “guys, this is my girlfriend, y/n,” yeonjun introduced you.

you smiled and waved awkwardly. all of their faces lit up, which you weren’t expecting. yeonjun’s friend with long brown hair half covering his eyes gave you a triumphant smile and held out a stripped arm warmer covered hand to one of the other boys. “i called it! you owe me forty bucks!” the other boy grumbled as he dug into his bag.

one of the girls stepped up to you and yeonjun, mostly smiling at you. she wore a black, frilly dress and had on stark black and white makeup. “i knew this months ago!” she said and her eyes darted towards yeonjun. you both gave her a confused look. “you weren’t exactly subtle with all the sneaking around you were doing,” she said to yeonjun. “you literally couldn’t take your eyes off her no matter how hard you tried. like a puppy waiting for it’s owner to come back home.”

you and yeonjun glanced at each other with wide eyes.

yeonjun awkwardly laughed at being exposed and pulled you into his side. he looked down at you and you could see the slight embarrassment in his eyes as you raised an eyebrow at him. “ignore her,” he said, waving a hand in the air. “i don’t know what she’s talking about.”

“like a puppy waiting for it’s owner,” you repeated slowly, amused. “you didn’t tell me you missed me that much!”

“oh, i like her!” the girl said. you smiled at her and she linked your arm with hers and pulled you away from yeonjun, introducing you to more of the group. you looked over your shoulder at yeonjun, who was getting teased by his friends, just as he looked up at you. he gave you a fond smile.

he was so not living all of this down.

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[princessbellecerise]

Baby Blues

Summary ✩ After six months of being married, you and Cregan are still struggling to conceive, leading to you becoming insecure and slightly jealous in your marriage

Warnings ✩ Angst, jealousy, mentions of infertility and pregnancy, self doubt, insecurity, happy ending though

Notes ✩ This is based off of a request and I hope I did it justice. I did put a little twist on it just to make it a little extra angsty but enjoy!

Cregan pulled the covers back and grinned.

A little over a month had passed since your last moon blood, and now that a safe amount of time had gone by, he felt excitement fill him at the idea that you were finally with child.

The two of you had been trying ever since you got married six months ago, but it seemed that the Gods had not yet deemed you fit to be parents. It’s something that’s worried both you and Cregan, as it wasn’t like there was a lack of trying between the two of you, and the Maesters said that you both were healthy. Realistically, your belly should be swollen by now but it just hadn’t happened.

Now though, Cregan felt a sliver of hope rise in his chest. Beside him, you shifted and rolled over sleepily to see why your husband had taken the covers from you. You were cold, but once you saw what he was looking at you immediately warmed up.

“It still hasn’t come,” You realized, fighting a smile. Your heart beating a little faster as you saw the clean sheets.

“No. No it hasn’t,” Cregan, trying and failing to conceal his own grin, said. “It’s been next to two months now.”

“Which could mean nothing,” You chewed your lip, reminding him that sometimes a woman’s blood could be late. But Cregan chose to be optimistic.

“Or…”

You squealed as suddenly, your husband pulled you into his arms and peppered kisses all over your neck. Laughter filled your chambers as you tried to push him away, but Cregan held you firm, his hands gentle as they pressed against your belly. “Mayhaps my seed has finally taken.”

“Mhmm. Well, we’ll see about that,” You said cautiously, not wanting to get your hopes up until you knew for sure. More time would need to pass before you allowed yourself to truly believe, as the heartbreak of your moon blood simply being late would be devastating. You were already worried that something was wrong with your womb and the longer you went without getting pregnant, the more that worry grew.

Over the next few days, you held caution close to your chest as a way to shield yourself in case Cregan was wrong. In case this time was just false hope like all the others, but as the days went on and suddenly it became a month and two weeks without getting your moon blood, you caved.

You and Cregan couldn’t stop grinning the moment you finally revealed to the Maester what was happening. It was too early to be one hundred percent sure, but he assured you that it was a good sign and only time would tell. Despite this, Cregan insisted on celebrating the incident, claiming that there needed to be a feast held to honor the coming of a new heir. Your husband was so excited that you didn’t even have the heart to dissuade him, admittedly excited yourself.

As the Lady of the castle, you made the plans and collaborated with the Maester to send out invitations. And within two more weeks, all of the nearest houses in the North were gathered at Winterfell, happy and merry as they celebrated you and Cregan.

It was a lively feast, and definitely the most exciting event in the North for a while. Cregan had insisted on having the best ale present and the best food, as it was summer and their stores had extra to spare.

You had never seen your husband so alive; so filled with happiness and joy as he drank to his new heir. Of course, you were being moderate and only stuck to cider or water, but you didn’t mind. At least you’d be sober enough to remember this night, and the way that it filled you with such love to see everyone so happy.

To you, it felt like a huge weight had been lifted from your shoulder and the fear of disappointing Cregan and the North faded. You knew it was silly, as Cregan had reassured you many times that he’d still love you even if you couldn’t provide him with a child, but fulfilling your duty had been drilled into your head since you were born and now you could rest.

You were pregnant, hopefully, and your days of waking up and feeling like a failure were over. That night, you ate, you laughed, you toasted to your unborn babe and you held Cregan tight when later, he whispered to your non-existent baby bump.

“Helloooo thereeee. I’m…I’m your father,” He slurred while you laughed, unable to help yourself as you knew he was one hundred percent piss drunk.

“My love, I think we should be going to bed so you can sleep this off,” You told him, but Cregan waved you off and rested his head on your belly.

“Just…just a minute,” He told you, and he seemed to sober up a little as a small sigh left his lips. “I wanna…I wanna say a few words to our little wolf.”

He pressed a delicate kiss to the exposed skin and nuzzled your belly with his nose, pausing for a moment before continuing. “It took…it took a while for you to get here, didn’t it? Your mother and I…we were worried. I thought…I thought that maybe there was something wrong with me at first and that’s why you didn’t come, but I’m glad to know that me cock still works.”

“Cregan!” You were both amused and a little surprised to hear that it was him he blamed for such a wait, not you. You never realized that your husband felt responsible for not being able to conceive these past few months, and it both saddened your heart and made you feel less alone to know that he carried the same guilt on his shoulders.

“It was no one’s fault the babe took so long,” You reassured him gently, running a hand through his hair. Cregan sighed at your touch, leaning into your lap as he nodded.

“Aye. It just seems like our little wolf is stubborn is all,” He smiled.

He finished off his speech with a few more words of love to your belly, and the entire time you felt yourself smiling bigger and bigger. By the time Cregan had finished, finally stumbling into bed and grumbling about a headache, you were sure that your cheeks were going split from smiling so much. Words couldn’t describe how full your heart felt, how much you were overflowing from sheer happiness and joy. Everything you had ever dreamed of was coming true and it was all because of the little babe growing in your belly.

“Good night, my little moon,” You smiled as you placed a hand over it, almost as a way to protect them as you fell asleep. Sometime during the night, you felt Cregan’s large hand doing the same, and together your warm hands protected your little miracle.

—

The next morning, you woke up with the sun shining on your face. Yawning, you reached over to say good morning to Cregan, only to find the bed empty.

He must have gotten up early, you thought with a frown.

You thought about yesterday, about how carefree and happy your husband had been. He was so excited to know that he was getting another child, excited that little Rickon would have a younger sibling to protect. You were sad to think that he now had to focus on his duties again, but what could you do?

Duty never waits for anyone.

Trying to shake off your disappointment, you cradled your stomach and sat up in bed. After stretching and taking a small sip of water from the pitcher your maids had left you, you yawned again and threw the covers back.

Your eyes widened.

“Oh Gods. Oh no, no, no!”

You scrambled up in a panic as tiny dots of blood stained your sheets, your eyes wide and your stomach dropping to your feet. Horrified, you placed a shaking hand over your mouth as denial flooded your veins—but the proof was there plain as day.

“No. No, no, no! This can’t be happening,” You whimpered, falling to your knees as you touched the satin material.

How could this be possible? You hadn’t…you hadn’t bled for two months, and now all of a sudden your moon blood decided to show up? After everything…the feast, Cregan’s speech last night…

You shook your head as tears blurred your vision. Utter rage and devastation seemed to fill your heart as you sobbed, clutching your stomach as your whole body shook.

Both shame and embarrassment washed over you, knowing that the womb you cradled was empty. All those celebrations, all the toasts and the speeches that were given…it was for nothing.

You weren’t pregnant, and just like that you were back in the same position you were when you first arrived in Winterfell.

Scared. Heartbroken when your moon blood still came after the bedding. Terrified as the thought of being barren and unable to bare Cregan another child haunted you.

All of a sudden, those fears came running back to you and it made you want to throw up. It made you want to shout and scream, ask the Gods what they hated you so much as to allow this.

Why? Why have you all cursed me? Why won’t you let me bare my husband’s child? Am I not good enough? Am I just not meant to be a mother?

No, no. It couldn’t be true. Despite what the Gods thought, you refused to believe it. You didn’t want to believe it, not willing to accept that you had let Cregan down, again.

Gods, and he had been so excited to be a father again. You knew that he always wanted a big family, but sadly his first wife had passed away in childbirth. It had taken him two years to remarry, and now he was stuck with only one son and a second wife that was probably barren.

A cruel fate he had been dealt, really.

And now, as you stared at the droplets of blood staining the sheets, an ugly feeling crawled its way through your chest. Something that felt akin to jealousy, which you knew was ridiculous and borderline sinful.

It was an ugly, awful thing to envy a dead woman—and you swore to yourself that you never would. You knew how much Cregan loved you, and you were mature enough to know that one person could hold love in their heart for two people. Still though, you just couldn’t help yourself.

Arra might have died for it, but at least she gave him an heir. I cannot even offer him anything, You thought bitterly.

The realization just made you cry harder, wondering if when Cregan found out he’d lose his patience with you. You wondered if your husband would curse the Gods as you did; ask them why they’d taken his perfectly good wife away from him and cursed him with a barren one.

You knew that he wouldn’t, as deep down you knew your husband was not that kind of man. Grief however had skewed your mind, and it made you not think straight as you scrambled up.

Wiping your tears, you leaned over the bed and tore the sheets off with one pull. In a frenzy, and motivated by the desire to not let Cregan see them, you stuffed them deep within your closet and sobbed.

You don’t remember when you dressed yourself, or when you even left the room, really.

All you knew was that everything felt like a blur, the whole world passing you by as you aimlessly wandered through Winterfell.

You don’t remember what you were even looking for or why, but eventually you found yourself somewhere that surprised even you. In the hallway of an abandoned corridor, staring at the portrait of Cregan’s late wife.

You weren’t sure what possessed you to go there, or to even stay once you realized what it was. But something kept you rooted to your spot, and you found yourself entranced as you stared at the artwork.

Arra was beautiful, that was for sure. She had long dark hair, common amongst the Northerners, and big blue eyes that seemed to stare at you accusingly.

From what you’d heard from Cregan, she was his childhood sweetheart. Kind and generous, your husband had once reassured you that she’d love even you, when you were once worried that her ghost would somehow blame you for stealing her husband and child.

“Arra was a gentle soul,” Cregan explained, “And she’d love you for the simple fact that you make me happy, and that you are going to be a wonderful mother to her son and his siblings.”

Now, you wondered if that would still hold true. You had failed at the last part, and surely once Cregan found out, the happiness he once found with you would fade.

You wondered if then Arra would still be so accepting of you; a woman who had stolen her husband and her child and couldn’t even do anything to keep him happy.

It haunted you to think so. Sent a burning feeling through your chest. A feeling of failure. A feeling of jealousy, that this woman had given your husband everything you’d ever wanted to give him and more. A feeling of sadness when you realized that she had died for it, and now her place had been taken by someone as useless as you.

A few hours later, that’s where Cregan found you. Staring at the portrait of Arra Norrey, crying your eyes out over a dead woman, his late wife, and the babe that never even existed in your womb.

“Y/N?” Cregan approached you cautiously, alarm and panic in his eyes as he saw you sunken on the floor. You hadn’t know it yet, too caught up in your grief, but you’d been missing pretty much the entire day and no one had been able to find you since this morning.

The sun had long set, and just when Cregan felt like he was about to lose his mind, he remembered one last place he hadn’t checked. A place he used to visit all the time when he was a child, hiding and sneaking away with his now late wife. But he hadn’t had the heart to visit since she died, not until the possibility of you being in danger arose.

It was here that he found you, and immediately your husband rushed over to you, taking you into your arms and inspecting you for any signs of danger as you cried.

“What has happened? Are you hurt?”

“No.”

Somehow, you managed to force the word out, shaking your head as you tried to quiet yourself. You hadn’t meant for him to find you like this, honestly you hadn’t. You’d meant to go find him hours ago and tell him the news, but you were stuck to this spot and you couldn’t move. The entire day you’d been paralyzed with grief and it was obvious you weren’t okay even though you tried to convince him you were.

“I’m fine, Cregan. Really,” You told him, but of course he didn’t believe you.

He reached a hand out to touch your face, wiping your tears as he set his torch down. The new angle allowed you to see his face better, to see the worry and the panic and the grief.

You curled into yourself even more knowing that you had probably caused it, and knowing that you were about to add to it even more.

“Y/N, what happened?” Cregan demanded. He was perplexed. “Why have you been down here the entire day? It’s nearly midnight. We’ve been searching for you for hours. Everyone was worried, I was going out of my mind thinking that something awful had happened to you! And the babe—”

Cregan suddenly paused as you began to cry harder, his eyes wide as you cradled your empty womb. Something in his head seemed to click, an awful thought he’d never even considered before rendering him weak.

“Gods. Has something happened to the babe? Is that why you disappeared?” Cregan panicked, and you couldn’t stop the plethora of tears that slid down your cheeks.

“I’m sorry.” The dam broke, and you launched yourself into Cregan’s arms as his face turned to horror. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Cregan, I…there is no babe,” You explained to him, and you watched as his expression hardened.

“My love, what are you talking about? What has happened to our child?” He demanded to know. You held your head shamefully.

“The sheets, Cregan,” You told him softly.

He paused. “What?”

“I bled.” The confession left a bitter taste in your mouth, Cregan reeling back in shock. “My moon blood…it came this morning while you were out. I took the sheets…so you wouldn’t know and I…I wanted to tell you, I swear. But I just…I didn’t know how and I didn’t want you to be disappointed in me,” You whimpered. “I’m sorry.”

You looked away, afraid to see his face. Afraid to see the disappointment and the anger that was sure to come. Afraid to see the same accusing stare that Arra wore.

You averted your eyes, because you didn’t think you could bare watching the moment your husband realized that you were a failure. That it was you all along and not him that couldn’t conceive a child. It was your womb, your body that was preventing his happiness.

You didn’t think you could watch the moment all of it faded away.

“Y/N…”

You flinched as Cregan’s hand gently grabbed your face, making you look at him no matter how hard you tried not to. His rough, calloused fingers stroked your cheek, and he looked awfully gentle for a man that should’ve been angry beyond belief.

“My love, look at me. Look at me, please.”

You blinked, and all of sudden you were gazing into his eyes, one blue and one brown. Both of them looked soft and warm, Cregan sighing as he shook his head.

“You will never be a disappointment,” He said firmly. “Not to me. And I don’t want you to ever think such a thing. You are a good wife—”

“Who has failed you time and time again, Cregan,” You sniffled, “It has been six months, and I have yet to fall pregnant. You already have a son, so we both know it is me. I…I’m the one that keeps disappointing us. And I don’t know what to do anymore. I just…I just want to give you a child already. I want to be just as good as Arra was.”

Cregan had been stabbed before, cut from navel to collar and yet nothing in the world was as painful as watching you break down in his arms, desperate for the child you did not have.

It made him feel helpless to see you cry, and he hated that feeling. Hated that there was nothing he could do except for hold you, and offer you sweet words in hopes that it would soothe the ache.

“And you will. One day, you shall bare me another child, but if the Gods have decided that it won’t be today then so be it. We’ll try again and again until the time is right, and if that time never comes then I’ll still be with you every step of the way,” Cregan whispered.

He rested his forehead against yours and stared into your watery eyes. In the dying light of the torch, he could see the way they danced with a thousand emotions, each one more devastating to see than the last.

“You will be a mother one day my love, but please, do not compare yourself to her,” He continued. “Arra bore me a son, yes, but she gave her life for it. I would rather give Winterfell to my uncle Bennard than to see you perish for a child as well. I cannot…I cannot bare losing you too. Do you understand?”

You could hear the pain in Cregan’s voice, the unspoken truth that he’d rather you never be a mother than to have you leave him as well. It made your heart ache at the thought of never having your own child to share, flesh and blood and bones made from your love.

It would haunt you to the end of your days, but dying and leaving your husband alone in this world would destroy you even more.

You nodded. “I understand,” You told Cregan softly.

The warm fire light died down as you held one another in that corridor.

Nevermind that half the castle was still looking for you; in that moment, you only wanted your husband, his presence the only thing that could soothe the aches.

As Cregan’s strong arms and soft words comforted you, your eyes turned to look at the portrait of Arra. You wondered, if in her final moments she felt the same comforts as you did—content knowing that no matter what happened, she’d have a husband who would be there for her until the very end.

You hoped that she had.

—

In the morning, Cregan declined seeing off his most loyal bannermen, keeping his promise of being by your side whilst you visited the Maester.

You were shaking, undeniably terrified for what he was going to say, but you kept your head high and held onto Cregan’s hand the entire time he examined you.

You told him of your bleeding last morning, and how it had seemingly stopped today. You confessed that you hadn’t been feeling the usual symptoms of morning sickness or fatigue, but your breasts were sore and your appetite seemed to have increased.

Your body was an endless maze of confusion and it put you through emotions you weren’t even capable of understanding. You didn’t see how the Maester could either, really, but you supposed that he was used to these kinds of things more than you were.

After you had answered all of his questions, you braced yourself, squeezing Cregan’s hand as you prepared for the Maester to tell you what he thought.

And to your utter surprise, he merely smiled.

“Bleeding from the womb for a day or two is rare after conception, but possible. The fact that it’s gone away is a good sign, My Lady,” He reassured you.

You felt Cregan gripping your hand tighter as a flurry of emotions filled your body. First, you were shocked. Then you were relieved. And slowly, the grief that had been eating away at your heart faded, and you felt the tiniest bit of something else bleed through.

Hope.

“You mean…?”

You didn’t want to say it out loud, for fear of maybe being wrong, but the Maester seemed to catch on and nodded his head.

“Yes. Gods willing, there should be a new child of Winterfell in about seven months,” He confirmed. And then he added, “Congratulations, My Lady. My Lord.”

He bowed to you and Cregan before leaving the room, also sensing that the two of you might like some privacy.

And he was right.

As soon as the door shut, Cregan pulled you into his arms and let out a shaky breath. You didn’t even have to see his face to know that your husband was smiling, and when you hugged him against you—hard—you could feel warm tears wetting your neck.

“D’you hear that? We’re having a baby,” You laughed in disbelief while Cregan chuckled, sniffling as he kissed alongside your jaw.

“I never doubted that we would,” He said honestly, and all you could do was hold him tighter, your own tears slipping down your cheeks.

“No. No you didn’t.”

[rafey-baby]

sweet treat 2

in which sexy construction worker!rafe who spends his days 'lifting heavy stuff and building shit' (his words) and driving shy!reader home, shows up on her doorstep in the middle of the night...

18+ mdni!

c/w: construction worker!rafe being a tease, slight somnophilia, smut (dry humping, p-in-v, unprotected sex)

wc: 2.7k

hi! this is a part two to this (also this whole story was originally supposed to be just a small blurb consisting of a few silly sentences but then i got a bit carried away :D) anyways hope you enjoy xx

part 3 part 4 part 5

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

It’s past midnight when her doorbell rings, making her brows furrow. She throws the fluffy covers away, immediately yearning for the warmth of them as she pads her bare feet along the chilly hardwood floors of her apartment.  

No one has ever been at her door this late, which makes her hesitate. Maybe it’s just her neighbor asking for sugar, she tries to reason, as if the retired elderly lady living next door would even be up this late. For all she knows, it could be a criminal who’s escaped prison, holding a bloody knife at her. 

Curiosity ends up getting the best of her (as always) when she gingerly opens the door, mentally preparing to face a serial killer.

However, all her worries wash away like pollen under rain when she realizes it’s Rafe standing tall before her. 

“Oh, hi. What are you— what are you doing here?” A surprised look paints over her visage.  

“You forgot this in my car, thought you might need it back,” he’s grinning, holding out a phone to her, pale yellow case making her realize it’s her phone. She almost doesn’t recognize it, since it appears so tiny in his massive paw, almost like a miniature version of the device she’s grown accustomed to.  

“Oh my god, I was looking everywhere for it, thought I was gonna have to buy a new one,” she takes it from him, a grateful smile etching her features.  

“Yeah, couldn’t exactly call you,” he shakes his head at his terrible attempt at a joke. 

A delighted giggle escapes her throat, nonetheless, eyes crinkling and teeth poking out; forcing the corners of his mouth to lift up as well as he finally takes in her appearance.  

A worn-out t shirt a few sizes too big and…well, that’s it. She’s not wearing anything else. He’s trying not to stare at her plush thighs, or the way the hem of the shirt slightly climbs up, revealing even more skin as she rakes a hand through a messy head of hair, swallowing nervously under his attention.  

Unfortunately for the both of them, he never actually ended up fucking her when she came over to his place last week and had him cook for her. He just felt so bad about initiating something like that when she kept yawning through forkfuls of pasta, eyes barely staying open as she complained about her limbs aching and how she was so exhausted she could sleep for a week after the particularly long shift she’d just had.  

Which is why he simply drove her home after their late-night dinner and wished her a good night with a heavy hand on her shoulder, thumb smoothing over the material of her shirt, letting her rest in tranquility. Telling himself he could be patient with her, not wanting to rush anything.  

However, she’s not making it very easy for him right now when there’s only one piece of clothing covering her. She looks so sleepy and pretty he has half the mind to pick her up in his arms and slump down on her bed, crawling under crisp sheets and feel how her lungs expand against his chest.  

“Sorry, did I wake you?” He carefully asks, suddenly worried he’s disturbed her serene slumber.  

“No, no. I mean, I was in bed but couldn’t really sleep so…” she trails off, desperately trying to come up with something to make him stay a bit longer, not wanting him to go yet; finding immense comfort in his assured presence.  

“Um, do you— do you want to come in? I could make you some tea or something?” She clumsily offers.  

His brows raise, surprised at her proposition. She’s being uncharacteristically bold; his mouth twists into an amused simper. 

“Actually, forget I said anything, you’re probably really tired and just wanna go home, sorry, I don’t know why I even—” she scrambles to correct herself, and now that sounds more like the girl Rafe’s grown familiar with.  

“Don’t be stupid, of course I’ll come in,” he cuts her off, stepping past the threshold, taking a look around her cozy home. Leafy plants adding greenery to the small space and picturesque paintings fixed on the cream-colored walls. It’s cute, he thinks.  

She sets a steaming mug in front of him on her kitchen table and sits down next to him on a wooden chair. He’s definitely not staring at the way the bottom of her shirt rides up the tops of her thighs, allowing for the flimsy material of her panties to peek out. He clears his throat.  

“You often have trouble sleeping?” He tries to focus on something else, anything else, taking a slow sip of the searing liquid; nearly burning his tongue in the process.  

“Yeah, sometimes. It’s just sometimes it’s hard to shut my brain off after spending all day at the cafe. I try to fall asleep but the loud noises of the customers talking and the clinking of plates and spoons keep replaying in my head and suddenly I’m wide awake, you know?” She explains.  

“I’m sorry, is there anything that helps?” He prods.  

“I don’t know, I guess just trying to think of something else or talking with someone else,” she mumbles out. 

“Oh, so what you’re saying is that you’re just using me in order to fall asleep?” He teases, grinning when he manages to drag out yet another giggle from her mouth.  

“Yeah, I suppose I am,” her eyes glimmer like little stars when she looks at him.  

“Should I feel offended right now?” He jokingly scoffs.  

“No, you should feel flattered, I don’t invite just anyone into my home at almost 1 am, just so you know.” 

And he thinks he likes this side of her, all playful and sleepy, she’s a lot less reserved than her usual fully rested and overly conscious self would be, more carefree. Maybe that’s the reason he lets the next words escape the gaps of his teeth.  

“You into cuddling?” He asks, profound aquamarine locking with her rounded eyes.  

“Uh— I mean, I probably would be if I had someone to cuddle with, but I don’t so…” she drifts off, not sure how to respond. 

“Wanna cuddle with me?” He says it so nonchalantly, and she doesn’t understand how he’s so indifferent to this whole situation while she feels dizzy, dazed mind reeling and vivid heart tingling in her ribcage. 

“Really? You want to? But wouldn’t it be weird?” She seems taken aback by his proposal. 

“Why the fuck would it be weird? I mean, we’re friends, right?” His brows crease. 

“Yes, of course we are, I just—” 

“Look, all I’m saying, is that it might help you sleep, yeah? Having something else to focus on and shit,” he reasons, making her realize she’s totally overthinking this; he’s simply trying to help.  

“You’re right, yeah, we should do that then,” she agrees and swiftly gets up on wobbly feet, almost falling face first on the ground, if not for his strong grip on her waist steadying her, grounding her, drawing a faint gasp from the back of her throat at his sudden proximity.  

“Easy there, Sweetheart,” he chuckles against her hair, finding her eagerness to get into bed with him amusing.  

“Sorry,” she mumbles, a raspberry hue dusting over her cheeks.  

And that’s how they end up tangled in each other under her soft sheets, his beefy arms wrapped tightly around her middle, caging her in with gentle fingertips toying with the hem of her shirt. His sturdy chest rises and falls against her back in tandem with his steady breaths, pacifying her; coaxing her heavy lids to flutter closed.  

He’s so warm and big making her feel so secure and safe she thinks she wouldn’t mind doing this again.  

“You good?” He murmurs next to her ear.  

“Mhm,” she blissfully croons, letting out a content exhale.  

Her mind begins to topple over the edge of reality, plummeting into oblivion; a far away dreamland where everything is upside down and the ether is evermore the shade of fluffy cotton candy and the sand consists of stardust and ecstasy.  

“Sweet dreams,” is the last thing her misty awareness grasps onto before she’s in the tender embrace of a crepuscular dormancy.  

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

She’s lethargic in her movements when she rouses from the abstruse blankness she seems to have lost herself in. Rafe’s heavy arm is draped over her waist, trapping her body into his and it’s murky in her unlit bedroom; the pale moonlight gleaming through the slots in her curtains the only beacon illuminating the space.  

The lines of her cerebrum are blurred and she’s not sure what has woken her up.  

Then she feels it; something poking her from behind, pressing against her ass. There’s a crinkle in her brow until her eyes widen in realization.  

He’s hard. Rafe is hard and she can practically feel the culprit of his excitement since he’s only wearing a pair of boxers, having complained about getting all too hot during the night to wear anything more. 

She swallows.  

What is she supposed to do? 

She shifts against him, trying to untangle her limbs from his. However, her attempt is proved fruitless when instead of unchaining her, he lets out a low groan, rumbling deep from his firm chest; grip tightening around her smaller form.  

“Rafe?” She calls out. 

No response.  

“Rafe? Wake up.”  

Still nothing. 

She can feel him breathing heavily against her hair; pawing at her hips every now and then, trying to pull her even closer, even if they’re already effectively glued together and there’s absolutely no means for her to move.  

She’s starting to become sticky between her thighs as he drags her against his cock again; seemingly stuck in a stupor.  

She mewls when her clit throbs, pestering for some sort of friction. And that’s when he finally stirs, the weight of his arms loosening like a tight knot unfurling and her lungs are finally able to greedily suck in brisk air.  

“Shit, sorry, my bad” his tone is gravelly and at that, some sort of birds begin flapping their wings in her tummy, jabbing at her insides. 

However, he doesn’t pull away like she half expects; her face heats up. 

“It’s uh— it’s okay. I mean…no worries,” she rambles because what the fuck is she supposed to say? 

“No, it’s fully my fault, just had quite a nice dream,” he admits, voice coarse. 

“Oh. What was it about?” She inquires, yawning, perhaps too curious for her own good.  

“You wanna know?” His brows raise, surprised. 

She hums.  

“Well, there was this really pretty girl, and she had me in her mouth and was letting me do whatever I wanted to her,” he murmurs with a heady tone overlaying his response.  

“Oh,” she tries to appear indifferent, although there’s a pitiful sprout of jealousy threatening to blossom from the damp soil in the pit of her stomach at his words.  

He chuckles at how oblivious she is. “You’re silly sometimes, you know?” He was practically dry-humping her just now, was he not? Why would he be dreaming about another girl when he’s got her right here with him? 

“What do you mean?” 

“Nothing,” he shakes his head, smiling to himself.  

“So, what else happened?”  

“What else? Okay, then she let me do this,” he says at the same time as he grabs her hips again, pushing against her, earning a faint whimper from her when she can feel how big he is through the thin fabric of her underwear. 

“Rafe…what are you doing?” She manages to ask through a whine; his blunt nails denting the exposed skin of her thighs.  

“Got no idea what you’re doing to me, do you?” He mutters, shallow. 

“I— what are you— what are you talking about?” Her brain is foggy and she’s not able to think straight when he’s so close.  

He doesn’t answer, instead continuing the retelling of his dream. “Then I grabbed her like this,” he lifts her on top of him in one smooth motion, as if she weighs nothing more than a piece of paper. Her inhale gets stuck somewhere along the way when he paws at her hips, shuffling her around until she’s straddling him, properly sitting on top of his cock and he lets out a heartfelt grunt when she moves her achy cunt over him.  

“You like this? Such a needy little thing, yeah?” He helps her find some relief by grappling at her hips; dragging her against his cock, filthy groans escaping his mouth when he feels her wetness saturating the two layers of cotton between them.  

“Rafe, can you…”  

“Can I what, hm? Play with you a little?” He says as he slips a hand in her panties, fingers petting at her puffy clit and a loud moan leaves her when she lifts the fabric of her shirt up in order to have a better view.  

“Didn’t know you were such a dirty girl. Getting real fucking wet from me just being close to you, yeah?” His thumb rubs lazy circles on her sensitive button, making her cry out his name as she presses down harder against his cock. 

“Shit, gonna come in my fucking pants if you keep doing that. You wanna know what else was in my dream?” 

She nods, frantic.  

“I pushed this little piece of fabric here to the side,” he says as he plucks at her underwear, doing just that. “And then, I did this,” he mutters as he takes himself out from the confines and her eyes round out as she looks down at it in his palm, mesmerized. He thuds the head of his cock on her clit, one, two, three times, and then smears it on her sticky folds, painting it up and down her soaked cunt.  

“Rafe…” she whines, desperate to feel him inside her. Unfortunately for her, he’s feeling a little mean, pressing just the tip inside her tight hole, slowly pushing in and out, turning her into a whimpering mess. The hydrangea blue of his eyes is locked down to where they connect, fascinated.  

“Fuck, Sweetheart, does that feel nice?” He asks, swiping a thumb over her swollen bud, tucking his cock in a little deeper, forcing a loud noise to leave her throat.  

“Feels so good, Rafe, I think I’m gonna…” she trails off, lids heavy as she stretches around him.  

“You’re gonna come already?” he chuckles, amusement coating his face, nudging his dick about halfway in and out, never fully plunging it inside of her though.  

“You feel so good, I can’t— can’t hold it,” water droplets are gathering in the corners of her eyes, catching to her lashes as teary eyes look into larimar and she rolls her hips against him, chasing after some sort of release. 

“Shit, go on then, let me feel you soak my cock, yeah?” He encourages her and she doesn’t need to be told twice; crying out and throbbing around him, hips stuttering as her cunt pulses and she’s unspooling on top of him. 

“There you go, just fucking give it to me,” he grunts and all of a sudden, he feels his own orgasm approaching; rolling down a hill like a landslide. She’s squeezing around him so tight, he can’t help but thrust his hips into her, a guttural moan leaving him when he stuffs his cock profoundly into her, to the hilt.  

He stills inside her and then he’s groaning out when his cum gushes out from his drippy tip, coating her gummy walls in white, filling her to the brim; making her feel so full. She thinks she could die happy right now.  

There’s so much of it, to the point where the sticky substance begins to seep out from where they’re connected as they both pant, trying to even out their breathing.  

She turns into something mellow in his arms, slumping down against him, burying her face in his neck as he draws sluggish circles on her back, calming her down with tender words spoken in gentle murmurs.  

“Did so good for me, shit, we should do this more often, yeah?” He says with a sleepy tinge.   

And she’s completely out of it, head as empty as ever, merely managing an amorphous hum in agreement; tumbling down a slippery slide right back into a nebulous slumber.