#the sixth one is too long (click on it)

[lastofthe20thcenturygirls]

[kavehayati]

Stop ……. Rodrick from diary of a wimpy kid …

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

i am living for some angst 👀

especially some satoru angst

Hold me. Console me.

Tags: Satoru x fem!Reader, angst, hurt/comfort, depictions of poor mental health, depiction of a panic attack, Satoru’s a little bit of an asshole here.

An: Same… same. Before you read this and blame me for how fucked this story is, know that one of my moots (cough. cough. @theuniversesnepobaby cough.) was sending me sad angsty edits last night. this is partially her fault too.

Satoru was normally a very doting and attentive boyfriend. He’s the type to beg to be in your presence. He’d kill to feel your touch against his skin. “Casual” isn’t a word in his dictionary. When he loves, he loves loudly.

So when he got quiet with his love, your body started to fill with a sense of dread. Cold and bitter feelings crawled their way between you two. No longer did you two laugh until you were out of breath and red in the face. No longer did he surprise you with gifts or try to scare you when you’re unaware of his presence.

His strong arms hadn’t wrapped around you in so long. The ruthless chill of being utterly alone plagued you, while Satoru seemed fine. He was even taking on extra hours at his job. So many nights he didn’t come back until nearly midnight.

How could he not see what’s happening? How could he not notice how much you’re drowning?

“I’m going out.” His words are flat with no care put into them. He’s telling you because he feels as if it’s obligatory — not because he doesn’t want you to worry.

“Where are you going?” So many times have you tried to reach out. It was as if you two were passing back and forth a candle of your relationship. You had ignited the flame and passed it to him so many times, but each time, he snuffs it out without a second thought — leaving you in the dark. Maybe one more time, you metaphorically light the candle in hopes to kinder your relationship…

“Out.” Flame snuffed.

“Oh.” He’s done it so many times, but it hurts just as bad each and every time. Being single wouldn’t hurt this bad. At least you wouldn’t be getting rejected by your own boyfriend on a daily basis.

“See ya.” He doesn’t even give you a second glance as he grabs his coat and saunters out the door. Another night spent alone. Another night filled with a barely eaten tv dinner and a shitty reality tv show droning on in the back while you doomscroll on your phone.

You two use to watch these reality tv shows together and laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. Satoru would hold you so close to his body, and he’d whine anytime you tried to adjust. When was the last time that happened? You never suspected the end of affectionate gestures would come while you two were still in a relationship.

You check Geto’s story on instagram. Sometimes, you’d catch small glimpses of Satoru in the back. Sometimes they were at a cafe or an arcade together. Tonight, it seemed as though Suguru was at very packed party scene.

You hold your breath in your lungs as you rewatch the story again and again — searching for a white head of hair. Your boyfriend makes it too easy for you to stalk him. Though, it feels like a fitting punishment for the turmoil he’s put you through.

No Satoru in sight. You sigh quietly before you check Shoko’s story. It was less likely that Satoru would be captured there, but he has made his appearances in the past. It seemed like tonight Shoko wasn’t present at whatever rager Suguru was at. She posted a picture of her beautifully written notes. She must be studying.

Nanami never posts on his story, so you don’t even bother going to check his barren profile. Haibara never features Satoru in his stories, so you skip his as well. This leaves you with one last option.

Your hand is a little shaky as you click on Utahime’s story. You don’t know when it started, but your cheeks and ears were wet with tears already. Your body had some sort of sick sixth sense for knowing when something was wrong, and something was terribly wrong.

You had always had your little insecurities about Utahime ever since Satoru indulged that he had a small crush on her back in high school. Of course, these were just fleeting thoughts. Up until recently, you knew with full confidence that you had Satoru’s heart. He wouldn’t stray from you. 

You didn’t have that same confidence anymore. Satoru had withdrawn, and it seemed as if he took his heart with him.

You hate being right. You wish you were wrong sometimes. On Utahime’s story, she’s seemingly at the same party that Suguru’s at. Her story is littered with pictures of her with other girls that you don’t recognize, videos of the loud music and people dancing in a crowd, and there’s just one last video on her story that makes your heart sink to your stomach.

Your boyfriend’s pretty blue eyes illuminated by the flash from her back camera. He smiled and laughed as Utahime filmed him. His face was littered with wine red lipstick kiss marks. Utahime had a grab on your boyfriend’s collar, obviously trying to hold his drunk self still while she filmed his crime.

It felt like a punch straight to your gut. You couldn’t even think straight, but you knew you needed to keep this evidence in case she deletes it. Your fingers shakily screenshot the story, logging the picture of Satoru covered in someone else’s affections.

He was out there feeling an overwhelming sense of happiness, receiving kisses from another, dancing to his heart’s content, and enjoying his life while you were sat at home weeping over the loss of your boyfriend.

The tv dinner, now cold and stale, was thrown into the garbage, and whatever little bit you had eaten came up soon after.

The picture was seared into your memory. You didn’t have to look at it to know every minor detail. The way his white hair was messy. His glasses were pulled down ever so slightly to reveal his devastatingly beautiful eyes. His coat hung on his shoulders while his muscular neck peaked out from his shirt.

Every time you closed your eyes, you thought about how many kiss marks he had on his face. How many times had he allowed himself to cheat on you? Was this the first time? Had it gone farther than this? Was it Utahime or some other girl?

You cried yourself to sleep, knowing that Satoru wouldn’t even come home to try to console you.

The next morning, you were disappointed as soon as you woke up. You wished sleep would’ve taken your body and whisked it away far, far from here. Instead, you’re still in your bed, sleeping on a pillow that was stained from your mascara.

If you could, you’d rot in bed all day and try to forget the godforsaken video you saw last night, but you had to make a trip to the restroom.

Forcing your weak body out of bed, you let out a small pained moan. You haven’t eaten a proper meal in so long, and you threw up whatever you did eat yesterday. Your appetite was completely diminished. Satoru use to say that food tasted better when it was shared. He always shared his meals with you, unbeknownst to him, helping you maintain a good schedule for eating.

Your apartment was too bright when you stepped out of the bathroom, and it smelled too much of food. The sizzling on the stove finally caught your drowsy attention.

The man of the hour, Satoru, was at your stove, shirtless and cooking something. Sleeping pants casually hung around his hips, and the dimples at the bottom of his back were so graciously being shown off. Did someone else know about those two little dimples? Even though back was facing you, you could already picture his face, littered with those stupid kiss marks.

Making a b-line for the bathroom, Satoru doesn’t even get the chance to greet you. Your hands were cold and clammy as your body uncontrollably heaved over the toilet. You had nothing left to give, but Satoru was taking everything from you.

Hot tears burned your cheeks as they slipped down your face. You didn’t want to do this. You wished you would’ve never saw that fucking video last night. You should’ve given yourself plausible deniability, but now, you had to face the music.

You slowly returned back to the kitchen after trying your best to clean yourself up. Your eyes focused on Satoru. He was finishing up cooking bacon when his eyes finally met yours and drove daggers through your heart.

“Good morning, sweetness. Something wrong?” He asks with so much care in his tone. You fantasize about hitting him — just once. How dare he suddenly care when you have to check out?

You don’t even know what to say to him. Like, yes, something is clearly fucking wrong, Satoru. I’m dating an unfaithful jerk.

“What are you doing here?” You ask bluntly, wiping your face of the remnants of tears and makeup that had stained your skin. He shouldn’t be allowed to see how badly he hurt you.

“I… live here?” He responds in a questioning tone, furrowing his white eyebrows as he studies your face. “Are you okay?” If only he had asked that question weeks ago, then maybe you two wouldn’t be in this mess today.

“No, and you don’t live here anymore.” You snap, causing him to slightly flinch back — not out of fear but out of surprise. He’s never seen you like this before.

“What do you mean, sweetness? I-“

“Cut the shit, Gojo. Don’t act stupid with me. It’s unbecoming.” You interrupt him completely, not wanting to hear him try to act innocent when you have all the proof you need on your phone.

“Woah. I don’t know what’s wrong, but I don’t really appreciate the insult and the use of my government name. I genuinely have no idea of what you’re talking about.” His voice is firm, laced with sternness, so you can see that he’s not playing around with you.

You take a deep breath until your lungs burn. You want to scream at him, chase him out of the house, and light his shit on fire. Instead, you silently go to retrieve your phone. Pulling up the picture of him with kiss marks all over his face, you shove the screen in his direction.

Gojo takes a few seconds to take in the photo, and he lets his shoulders drop. “This is what you’re mad over, sweetness?” He asks in a much more calm tone, looking up at you with almost puppy dog eyes.

“Don’t call me that.” You snap while swiping your phone back from his hands. “I didn’t think I’d have to spell it out for you, but we’re fucking done.”

“You seriously believe that I would cheat on you?” He asks in that stupid arrogant tone of his, completely ignoring your blunt rejection.

“Why else would your high school crush post a picture of you with kiss marks all over your face!? You look so fucking dumb and in love. I fucking-“ Your throat chokes up as if your body was trying to stop you from saying something you didn’t mean. The words “I fucking hate you” die right there on your lips. Tears fall down your cheeks, and you place your palms over your eyes to hide yourself from his impregnable gaze.

“This, again?” He asks in a frustrated tone before letting out an exasperated sigh, He turns the stove off - abandoning his food before walking over to you. He bends his knees a bit to get on your level. “Look at me.” He demands before his hands go to pull yours away from your eyes.

“Don’t fucking touch me.” You cry out, jerking back away from his presence. Your breath speeds up. The oxygen isn’t having enough time to enter your bloodstream. Your body is vibrating, forcing the air quickly from your lungs. Everything is moving so fast and why the fuck is he so close to you-? He’s suffocating. Fuck, catch your breath. Whyhim?Whyyou?Why?Why?Whatdidyoudotodeservethis???

A gush of air is blown harshly onto your face, and you can feel the bitter cold feeling of something touching your skin. Your eyes see Satoru’s hand holding an ice cube, guiding it along your warm skin on your arm. Your body is so hot that it’s melting faster than he’s moving it.

“Breathe. Match my movements.” Satoru guides in a calm yet steady tone. Your eyes find the way his chest is slowly rising and falling with each breath. You want to tell him to go play in traffic. You don’t need him to ground you. You don’t need him to do anything for you. You don’t need him.

Still, your body matches his slowly. Your breath becomes more stable, and you can feel your heart starting to settle into a more natural rhythm. Your bleary eyes meet his empathetic ones. It’s been so long since your last panic attack, but he remembers just how to calm you down.

It only makes it all hurt so much worse.

“It’s almost over. You’re doing a good job.” He takes his chances at encouraging you. It feels so sickening, more tears flee your eyes. Where had your boyfriend been, and why is he only just now back after he did the unthinkable?

“Sing with me.” It’s an odd request, but it’s something he found that grounds you better than most grounding techniques. Saying repeatable phrases in melodic tone is comforting for your mind.

“No.”

“Come on… Just one time. Your favorite.” He tries again. Metaphorically, lighting the candle and passing it back to you.

You shake your head in response. Flame snuffed. How can you sing with him after what he did to you?

“Come on, don't leave me it can't be that easy, babe” He starts with such a soft angelic voice. You fold in on yourself unable to keep the sob from escaping your throat. What method of torture is this??

“If you believe me I guess I'll get on a plane. Fly to your city excited to see your face.” He continues, lighting that same candle. It’s so small, barely there anymore from how many times you two have tried to relight it.

“Hold me, console me and then I leave without a trace.” The ice cube has completely melted, and his hand is resting on your arm. He slowly guides you to his chest, and you indulge in his warm embrace for just one last time.

“Come on, don't leave me it can't be that easy, babe.” His chin rests on top of your head. You’ve always fit so well in his arms. He’d always tell you that whatever higher power is out there made you specifically with him in mind.

“If you believe me I guess I'll get on a plane. Fly to your city excited to see your face.” His skin is so warm against yours, and your tears are sticking to your chest.

“Hold me, console me and then I leave without a trace.” You finally indulge him, softly joining in on his singing. His body slowly starts to guide you two into a soft subtle sway.

“Come on, don't leave me it can't be that easy, babe.” It’s not that easy. This fucking hurts so bad. Why would your soulmate do this to you?

“If you believe me I guess I'll get on a plane. Fly to your city excited to see your face.” You feel so pathetic — seeking out comfort from the one who hurt you this bad. If your friend could see you right now, she’d slap some sense into you.

“Hold me, console me and then I leave without a trace.”

You’re sniffling softly into his chest, and his hand carefully pets your hair. “Those kiss marks weren’t from Utahime.” He explains in a soft tone. “We were filming a TikTok. The punchline of the joke was that Suguru and Haibara were the ones who kissed all over my face.”

You look up at him with an unsure look on your face, not understanding what he meant. Satoru carefully picks your phone up, and he clicks on Haibara’s Instagram story from last night.

Sure enough, Haibara posted a TikTok of him, Suguru, Satoru, and Utahime. The camera points at Satoru, showing the kiss marks on his face, and the sound plays. “Bro, what happened to your face? Did you do that?” The camera then pans to Utahime to which she mouths the words, “I did not do that.” The camera then pans to Haibara with smeared wine red lipstick on his lips who says, “Then, who did?” The camera is then panned towards Suguru. He also had wine red lipstick smeared on his lips. “Yeah, who?” The two boys start laughing along with Satoru, and the video cuts.

It only comforts your weary heart slightly.

“It was just a stupid TikTok… I should’ve consulted you or warned you… done anything to respect you.”

“This doesn’t take back how awfully cold you’ve been over the last few weeks…” You sniffle out quietly, and Satoru nods his head knowingly.

“I know, sweetness.. I know. I’ve been terrible.” His arms squeeze you a bit tighter — frightened that he was so close to loosing you, still scared of losing you.

“That’s not an apology… or even a reason.” You try to squirm from his grip, but Satoru holds you tighter.

“I’m so fucking sorry, sweetness.” He breathes out a shaky breath, and you realize the shakiness in his voice. Glancing up at him, you feel yourself clam up with the sight of tears in his eyes. Christ, his eyes are somehow even more blue when he cries. “Shit got crazy at work then-“

“You still had time to party it up with your friends. You left me without even telling me you love me.” You finally break away from his grasp. The cheating accusation was only the surface of the main problem.

“You know I love you…” His voice is small, and he wipes his eyes of the tears that are threatening to spill.

“Do I know that?”

“Don’t… don’t say that.. I love you more than life itself.” His shaky hands go to reach for you again, but you move back away from him.

“You’re only doing this because I’m leaving you. If I hadn’t mentioned it, you’d probably still be half assed ignoring me.” You stare at him, and your eyes start to water for the nth time today.

“That’s not…” Satoru bites his tongue, and he runs a hand through his messy white hair. “I came home this morning… saw the uneaten tv dinner in the trash… Your reality tv show was still playing in the background, and I saw how you fell asleep with your makeup messed up… I realized then how much I neglected you… I planned a full day for us to enjoy each other’s presence… Please, don’t leave me for this. I can fix this.”

“How did it feel to look at me everyday when I tried so fucking hard to reach you?”

“It killed me.” He breathes out, and he tries to reach for you again. “Please, I missed you so much. Work was just so fucking much, and I don’t know why I took that out on you.”

You stare at him, and you shake your head silently. “You should go, Gojo..” Your voice cracked as it physically pained you to tell him to leave. Your body craves him more than anything else in the world right now.

“No, please, princess. Don’t do this… I can fix this. I’ll do whatever it takes… just don’t leave me…” Satoru’s on his knees, literally begging you not to leave him. Tears are falling down his cheeks as he bows his head to you.

It’s humiliating, but he’s so humiliatingly in love with you. He’s so dead serious. He’d do anything for you to stay with him.

“Toru..”

“I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. I-I don’t know why I did it. I just pulled away from you, and I don’t know how it happened. You’re the best damn thing that’s ever happened t-to me. Please. I can’t function without you.”

You stare at your boyfriend with concern as his head literally touches the floor beneath him. You don’t even know what to say to him. The thought of leaving him hurts so fucking bad. It steals the breath from your lungs.

“Please don’t leave me… puh…. please stay with me.” He’s groveling at your feet, unable to stop the tears that escape his eyes. The thought of living in a world where you aren’t his girlfriend… he wouldn’t. He’d be a shell of who he once was. He’s nothing without you.

You slowly sit on the floor in front of him, and your hands stroke his soft hair gently. Satoru’s breath slows as he finally gets a grip on his emotions. He realizes just how pathetic he looks. He slowly leans up, and he looks at you. Both of you looked like complete messes, and it was all his fault.

“I don’t deserve you,” He murmurs quietly. “but please, I can make this better… I love you so much, sweetness… I wouldn’t dream of ever cheating on you.”

“I don’t forgive you.” Your voice is barely a whisper. The metaphorical flame is so small and shaky, but if you two both shield it from the wind, it’ll be able to grow once more. “You have a lot to prove me, Toru.”

“I’ll spend every waking minute of my life fixing this. I promise you, sweets.”

and he did. Satoru went back to loving you loudly. He didn’t merely shield the flame from being blown out, he fanned it himself so it grew in intensity. He was back to doting on you constantly, and he did frequent check-ins to make sure you weren’t feeling neglected. He took frequent vacations from work with you. He usually took you two out on holidays to wherever your heart desired, but sometimes you two would use his vacation time to just lounge around the house and enjoy each other’s presence.

Your confidence slowly returned to you over time. It wasn’t easy by any means. It took many nights of Satoru’s consistent reassurance and overwhelming love and support for you to slowly start feeling comfortable in your relationship with him.

He put in the work, nourished your flame, and he never made you feel guilty for having a second thought because when he loves, he loves deeply. Casual is not his strong suit.

[purplecoffee13]

The Silent Type*

Summary: “Harry, the quiet guy in the office, has silently admired you during your time working for the firm. Now that your work there is done, Harry finds that he can’t let you go just yet…”

Wc: 5k

Tropes: colleagues (ceorry/nerdrry)

Warnings: SMUT, overstimulation, daddy kink, switch sub/dom dynamics, oral, choking

A/N: SUP Y’ALL!!!! God I have just been waiting to be able to write again! I still have some exams coming up next week, but I spent all evening writing this one shot because I have been dying to get back into it😋 This is my first time writing a more subrry tinted fic, so I hope you enjoy it!

General Masterlist

if you want to support me more than liking or sharing, you can consider buying me a coffee!

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Harry has never been one to talk much.

It is one of the reasons why he chose the career of software developing. Most of it, he could do on his own.

It wasn't so much that Harry hated people, he just preferred his own company. More people tend to complicate things, and Harry is a more logical guy.

That was until he met you.

About three months ago, the company for which Harry worked had started their expansion, and he was to lead the people transferred to that section of the firm. With the expansion also came new employees, and that’s where you came in.

You had been temporarily hired by the company to weed out applicants, and assist the current HR manager to help with the job interviews.

Harry still remembers that first day when you walked into the office, all nervous and fidgety. He had spotted you through the glass walls of his office, and couldn't physically tear his eyes off of you.

It wasn't until your third day helping in the office, that you actually met Harry. You had no idea what to think of him. Well, besides the obvious, of course. He was ridiculously handsome, and from the way he was staring at you, you figured that maybe he was thinking something like that about you too.

But he didn't talk.

Your first time meeting consisted of nothing but a gruff 'nice to meet you' from Harry's side, and no input in the rest of the conversation whatsoever. It was only a couple days later, when you asked the HR manager about it, that you found out that's just how he was, that he didn't really talk to anyone. From that moment on, there had been a surge of motivation to let him make you the one exception.

Harry was just fascinated by you, and he had no idea why. You were a ball of energy, talking so fast you'd think someone had clicked on your 'sped up' button, and you were chaotic, all over the place. The amount of times he watched you bump into people was impossible to keep count of.

Then, one day, you bumped into him. It should have angered him, the spilt coffee on his pants. But he had an extra suit, and you looked so worried, he didn't want to make you feel worse. You still felt bad, though, so you decided to make it up to him, and started getting him coffee every morning.

By the end of the first week, he looked you in the eyes when he thanked you. By the end of the fourth, he'd ask you how you are and recall things you'd told him. By the end of sixth, he told you things about his life, and by the end of the tenth week, you were having longer conversations with him.

It was difficult to keep up the small talk with him in the beginning. You soon found out that his lone wolf attitude may had something to do with his awkwardness. You thought, perhaps people weren't willing to work through that, and eventually he just stopped trying.

Such a prospect made you sad, and it only motivated you more to get to know him better. Of course, the longing glances, and standing unnecessarily close to each other with his knuckles barely touching your arm, those things helped too.

There was an undeniable tension between the two of you that you found incredibly difficult to decipher. The way he'd let you catch him looking at you gave it away quite clearly, but the lack of any real initiative confused you.

Had you read it all wrong? Did he even think there was something there too?

Unfortunately, there was no way to find out, as your assignment at the company was coming to an end. Today had been your last day, and tonight is a launch party to officially celebrate the expansion of the company.

You were a little sad to leave the company, especially since you really liked the people working there. It is why you are most excited for tonight.

Wearing a long yellow dress—it is your favorite color—you stride into the building. You are mesmerized by all the balloons and how pretty everyone looks. Wearing expensive suits or classy dresses. You immediately realize you might be a bit too happily dressed; everyone is wearing darker colors.

It does make it easy for everyone to spot you, though. By the time you've gotten your drink, five people have already walked up to you. About half an hour into the party, the CEO of the company takes the stage to give a small speech.

"I would like to thank everyone who has participated in making this expansion go as smoothly as it did. Your work does not go unnoticed." He says through the microphone. Everyone claps for a few seconds, and the man waits to go on until it is quiet again.

"Now, I have a special announcement to make. I have wanted to make this expansion happen since I began working for this company in 1988. Now that I finally have, I feel that my job at this firm is done. And so, I have decided to retire from my position as CEO."

Your eyes widen at the speech; you had no idea this was even a thing. By the sound of the gasps and murmurs traveling through the room, you deduce that the news is unexpected for the rest of the company as well.

"It is also with great pride that I present the new CEO of our company, chosen after careful consideration. If mr. Harry Styles could please join me on stage."

Your mouth falls open at the mention of Harry's name, and you are certain you will never be able to close it again when you see him walking onto the stage. He wears a black suit, perfectly tailored to his body, and the sight of him has you concerned that you may be drooling.

The bald man hands the microphone to Harry, who does not look very pleased to be on stage; it almost seems like he is regretting his decisions. Until his eyes meet yours, that is when you see him let out a breath.

"Thank you, Mr. Johnson." He says, breaking eye contact to look at his former boss.

Right, that was his name, Johnson.

"I look forward to leading this company into more successes, and I promise that I will put my heart and soul into it. I have worked at this firm ever since I graduated college and they offered me a job during my internship, and it is safe to say that I have not regretted that decision a day of my life. I have always been loyal to this company, and I will remain loyal to you. Thank you."

You are perplexed. Why did he never tell you about this? You are very happy for him, but you do find it weird. It also makes you doubt again. Did whatever you had been building up the last months not mean as much to Harry as it did to you?

Well, it doesn't really matter, you're gone after tonight anyway.

Once the shock of the news has calmed down a bit, the party resumes as normal. Most people visit Harry one by one to congratulate him on the position, but you steer clear from him. It is no use, after tonight you will probably never see him again anyway.

Time passes, and you think you're ready to go home. There was a file in the office you forgot to sign earlier today, so you head up to do that first. The office is entirely dark when you walk out of the elevator. It's kind of eerie, so you are quick to turn on the lights.

It takes you a few minutes to find the file, since the receptionist placed it on someone else's desk. You find it on your colleague's desk, and walk over to the receptionist desk to sign it. Laying it on the keyboard of her computer, you pray that she won't displace it again, and make your way back to the elevators.

A loud shriek escapes you when Harry suddenly walks around the corner. He covers his ears at the high pitched sound, shocked by how much he scared you. With your hand on your chest you try and steady your breathing.

"Jesus, you scared the crap out of me."

"Sorry, didn't mean to." He says, a bit of worry in his tone. You look up at him.

"What are you even doing up here?"

"I was looking for you." He shrugs.

"Why?" Your eyebrows furrow, that same old tension in your stomach settling like it does every time Harry looks at you for longer than two seconds.

"You've been avoiding me." He answers casually, and you feel your heart drop. You didn't think he'd catch onto it.

"Congratulations by the way, for being the CEO. That was definitely a surprise." There is a bitterness in your tone. It is Harry's turn to frown. He hears the condescension, but his mind can't seem to come to a conclusion. Why are you angry? It's so hard to tell.

This is why he doesn't do people.

"You're mad that I am CEO?" He guesses, and your mouth falls open, much like it did when Harry's new position got announced.

"What?! Of course not! I'm very happy for you." You sputter out. The last thing you'd want him to think is that you don't want him to be happy or satisfied or successful.

"But you're still avoiding me." He repeats slowly. "You know, I didn't tell you about it because no one was supposed to know. I had to sign for it and everything. It's nothing personal."

The painful grip that his potential distrust in you had on your heart releases at the sound of his words. You could have known that it was due to something like that, you work in HR after all. That fact alone makes you realize how invested you unknowingly had become in Harry.

"I...I figured." You give him a weak smile. Harry's eyes search for yours, holding onto your gaze once he has found it. You stay like that, staring at each other for a while until you break the silence.

"I'm heading home. I don't think I'll see you again, so good luck. I'm sure you'll do wonderfully."

With much difficulty, you manage to look away from Harry and walk past him. At least, you try to, because halfway through, Harry's hand grabs your arm. You stop in your tracks, looking back at the man who stopped you. The man who has been sending you mixed signals for the past few months.

"D– do you want to join me in my office?"

You refrain from the shiver that threatens to run down your entire body, and nod. Harry's hand slides down your arm to your hand, and he intertwines his fingers with yours before he leads you to the glass doors that belong to him. On your way there, he flicks off the lights, leaving the two of you in the dark.

The city lights light up the otherwise pitch dark office that belongs to Harry, for now. He will be moved to the CEO's office when he starts his new position.

You don't say anything as Harry closes the door, or as he walks to the closet and pulls out a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. You wait in anticipation of what he's going to do.

But then he sits down. He just sits down on his chair.

You stand there, staring at him, utterly confused about this man and his intentions with you, while he obliviously pours the whiskey into the glasses. In that moment, there is a switch inside of you, one that says: fuck it. This is your last day, you need a way to release this pent up tension, and you probably won't see him ever again after this. What have you got to lose? Nothing.

You walk over to the desk and sit down on it, extremely close to Harry. The split of your dress shows your bare, freshly shaved leg, and he seems to notice. His eyes pull to your legs like magnets, and he has to force himself to look you in the eyes as he hands you the glass of whiskey.

You try your best not to smirk at the effectiveness of your plan, focusing on your next move instead. Straight for the kill.

"So, why am I here, Harry?" You ask nonchalantly, taking a sip of your whiskey. It tastes quite strong, and it takes you a lot of effort not to have an expressive reaction to it.

"What?" He asks, eyes wide like a deer in headlights.

"Why'd you take me here?" You ask again, setting down your glass at the table before moving to stand in front of him. "To admire the view?"

Harry looks out the window, but his head shoots back to you when he notices you're sinking onto your knees in front of him. He thinks he may have forgotten to breathe as he observes the lustful look in your eyes. His eyes travel down to your tits, even more visible from this angle.

"Because I've admired it every day for the past three months." You continue. Harry swallows, frozen by the overload of his brain and the sensitivity of the growing constraint in these pants. "Why don't you take your pants off for me? Just enough to give me your cock. I like you in this suit."

Harry doesn't let another second fly by before he is unbuckling his pants, sliding it down just enough for you to have access to his cock and his balls. Your mouth waters at the size and girth of it, your cunt getting wetter with every passing moment.

You shimmy forward, leaning over his cock and grabbing it with your hand. Harry sighs at the minimal contact, making you feel even more powerful. Looking up at him through your lashes, you ask him one more question.

"You'll hold my hair, won't you?"

With that, you take Harry in your mouth as far as you can, before pulling away from him. A gasp leaves his mouth, and his eyes fall shut as you pump him with your hand while your mouth kisses and sucks on the head of his cock. You begin licking and kissing down his cock, while your hand softly feels up his balls.

Harry feels like he is in heaven already, and he forgets everything around him. It is only when you completely remove yourself from him that he opens his eyes again, and he sees. Catching on quickly, he leans forward and gathers your hair, twisting it around his palm.

Satisfied with Harry's obedience, your mouth attaches itself to his cock again. You take him slowly, teasingly, and move your head up and down. With every movement, you take him an inch deeper.

"Oh, f–fuck!" He groans out when you gag on him because you took yourself too far too fast. You steady your breathing, which is a bit more complicated as you can only breathe out your nose. You resume sucking him off for a bit longer, bobbing your head down a bit faster. The small sounds that leaves Harry's lips, along with his scrunched up face, gives you enough indication that he is approaching his climax.

So you remove your mouth from his cock.

He lets out a whine at the loss of contact. If your panties weren't wet before, they certainly are now. You smile at the state of him; desperate and needy for you. The fact that you've managed to make him fall apart like this makes you incredibly horny.

"I want to take all of you in my mouth, daddy." You tell him, looking up at him with your big eyes. "You'll have to help me."

You went out on a bit of a limb when you decided to call him daddy, but he doesn't seem to mind at all. In fact, Harry's eyes light up and his jaw slacks at the mention of the pet name.

"Shit– anything, sweetheart. Whatever you need." He croaks out.

"I need you to fuck my mouth." You respond sternly, not wasting any time and taking him between your lips again. You push yourself down his cock as far as you can, breathing deeply before moving your hand to Harry's hand, which is holding onto your hair, and pushing your head forward to indicate that he needs to push his cock down your throat.

Again, it doesn't take him long to listen, because Harry's hips thrust forward, his dick gliding into your throat. You moan at the force with which he pushed, and keep your mouth wide open as you let Harry navigate your head.

Once he fully understands that you are allowing him to let him use your mouth, the true fun begins. With the firm grip he has on your head, he pushes you up and down at an ungodly speed. Your jaw is already tiring from its locked position, but you power through it because the sounds that leave Harry's mouth make up for it.

"Fuck baby, such a good mouth. Never had anything like this... Jesus!" He pants out as he begins to thrust up into your mouth, and you feel like you might pass out. Suddenly, he pulls you away from his dick.

You frown, and realize as he is grabbing for a tissue that he is avoiding messing up your face. You don't stand for it, though, and wrap your lips around his cock again just in time for him to come inside your mouth. You take him deeper and feel the way his sperm shoots in the back of your throat.

"Fuck! Shit, shit..." The not so wide arrange of curse words are the only thing Harry is capable of saying as he dumps his load inside your mouth. The fact that you were so adamant about having his sperm in your mouth made his orgasm even more intense.

Your mouth lets go of his cock with an exaggerated plop, and you swallow every last bit of him, grinning at his fucked out face.

"That was... amazing." He sighs, his gaze flicking from your mouth to your eyes. You hum in agreement, and get up from the floor as he pulls up his pants. You are about to walk away, when Harry grabs your wrist.

"Where are you going?"

"Home." You answer with a smile, but Harry's grip on you only tightens. He shakes his head, his lips pouting.

"No, you need to stay. Let me make you feel good too." He protests. You squint your eyes at him.

"I don't need to do anything."

Harry's eyes widen. "You're right. But just let me make you feel good before you go, please? It's the least I can do."

Your mouth slowly forms into a grin, glad to have him where you want. Well, almost.

"Beg me."

Harry scoffs. "Are you serious? I don't really do begging."

You shrug, smiling at him. "That's fine. My vibrator can get me off too."

You take a few steps towards the door, while Harry contemplates his decisions. However, those were all clouded by the sole moment to please you the second you mentioned your vibrator. The image of you getting off like that is too much to bear. He needs to do it for you.

"Stop." He says. You turn around, and walk back to him as he gets out of his chair and gets on his knees. Grabbing your waist, he pulls you closer, his nose digging into your dress. His hands run up and down your legs, and it is making you weak in your knees.

"Please, let me eat you out baby. I'll do anything to make you feel good. I need to taste you so bad, please let me pleasure you."

You swallow, eyelids ready heavy, as you sigh out. "Alright."

Harry grins at your admittance of defeat, and stands up. He leads you to sit on his desk, your dress hiked up. He removes the stuff behind you, so that you can lean back entirely in case you want to, and waltzes over to his chair.

Spreading your legs, he rolls himself closer to you, and assesses your soaking wet panties. Chuckling, he leans to the side and grabs a pair of scissors, before he cuts the skimpy material from your body. You'd say something of it, but the sight of him admiring your pussy like this is too fascinating to interrupt. So, you keep quiet.

When Harry's thumb suddenly presses on your clit and begins to rub it, you can't help but gasp. His touch feels too good, and that blowjob got you really worked up.

"You have no idea how many times I've fantasized about this." Harry says, marveling at how reactive you are being.

"Me too."

His eyebrows rise up. "Yeah? Tell me more, baby."

You bite your lip, too obsessed with the pet name he's given you. It sounds so sexy coming from his mouth. He awaits your response with bright eyes, lazily rubbing your clit.

"Your arms... I'd think about them so much. And your hands, I'd imagine you choking me with them. They're so big..." You begin, and you know that you could go on for hours if you had to tell him about everything you've thought about doing with him, or doing to him.

Harry doesn't say anything, instead responds with two fingers entering your pussy. You moan at the feeling of his large fingers pumping in and out of you. It feels way fuller than your hand already. His two fingers is the equivalent of your three fingers.

"We can definitely make those fantasies come true..." Harry says softly. "But first, let's make you come, hmm?"

You nod, your head falling back and allowing yourself to fully indulge in the pleasure Harry's giving you right now. You let yourself lay on his desk, wrapping your legs around his shoulders.

"Fuck, that feels good– oh fuck!" You shriek out when Harry tongue begins attacking your tongue after he adds a third finger. He speeds up the movements of his hand to match those of his tongue, and holds onto that tempo until your mind can't conjure up any more words to speak to him.

With the control entirely out of your hands, you let Harry guide you to your orgasm, which washes over your body like a tidal wave. You unconsciously push Harry's head further into your pussy with your legs. With an arched back, you moan at the sensitivity of your clit.

Harry lets you take a minute to catch your breath before he pulls on your arms to have you sit up straight. He is smiling sweetly at you, and your heart warms at it.

"You okay?" He asks, kissing your hands. You nod, trying to ignore the flutters in your heart at the way he is being so gentle.

"Thank you for letting me make you feel good, baby." He says, getting up and leaning into your face. His nose brushes against your cheek as he plants his lips on yours. Your arms wrap around Harry's neck as you kiss him deeper, too caught up in how good he feels and how much you want him.

You're never this greedy. You've never felt like you needed a man's cock inside of you. Like it was the only feasible option. You feel it driving you crazy, and you're sure it is the only reason you say— no, ask:

"Please, fuck me."

The grin that forms on Harry's lips makes you feel like you should regret what you said. A grin like that usually belongs on your face in situations like these. But you need him so bad, you don't really care that you are the desperate one this time.

"Oh, you're begging now too, huh?" He says cockily. You glare at him, pissed that he's acknowledging your neediness and mocking you for it too.

"It's alright baby, I'll give it to you. 'M cock's already hard again from watching you come like that. So fucking sexy..." He says. He pulls his pants down and lifts you off the table, turning you around to the glass windows and pushing your hands against them. "Bend over a bit and speak your legs for me, baby."

You do as he says, biting your lip at Harry's hand that pushes away your dress and roams over your ass. He positions his cock at your entrance and pushes himself into you, sighing in pure relief. You shut your eyes tightly at the size of him filling you up.

"Fuck, you feel good baby." He says, slowly beginning to move in and out a bit. You let out a soft 'yes', causing Harry's jaw to clench. He spanks your ass, watching as it bounces from the impact, and his cock twitching at your yelp.

"Perfect fucking ass... perfect fucking girl, aren't you?" He groans, now lazily thrusting into you. He wants to give you time to adjust, but he learns your wishes when you begin to push yourself back into him.

"Ah, I see. Greedy girl wants to speed things up, hmm? Your wish is my command." He mocks, but does speed up his pace. His hands hold your waist as he begins to pound himself into you, your ass shaking at the impact. He spanks your ass again for good measure, obsessed with the way it moves.

You nearly lose yourself in how good it feels, but you know that he can get deeper than this.

"I want to ride you... want to feel you in my tummy." You spit out, hoping he understands what you're saying in your croaky voice.

Harry listens, pulling himself out of you immediately and taking a seat in the chair. You turn around and walk over to him, throwing your legs on both sides of his lap, before grabbing his cock and sinking yourself down on it.

It goes smoother this time, but Harry's really deep now, just like you wanted. The sensation is everything to you, and it isn’t hard to tell how good it feels for him too. Glad to have a bit of the control back, you start to bounce on his cock.

Harry’s eyes travel over your body, fascinated by the way you are moving above him. His hands travel to the straps of your dress and push them down until he can get your tits out of the top part of your dress. He begins to massage them as you keep impaling yourself on his dick over and over again.

"Fuck, daddy, you feel so good... so good for me. Listening to me. Knew this was the best way to fuck you... you love it." You slur happily. Harry nods profusely at your words, jaw clenched and moaning out in pleasure.

"Yes, needed it so bad baby. You're fucking daddy so good..."

You smile at how caught up Harry looks in his pleasure, like he doesn't know what to do with it. You, however, do know what to with it. You grab one of his hands and wrap it around your throat, before you do the same to him. With his hand on your neck and yours on his, you begin to fuck him as fast as you can.

"Ah, fffuck... shit! Holy shit!" He yells out, and automatically thrusts himself up into you, reaching an even further level of deepness you had never thought possible. That along with your hands on each other’s necks, is enough to know that your climaxes are near.

"Come inside me daddy." You pant out, and he does. It is as if your permission set him off. You smile in delight at the feel and knowledge of his cum being so deep inside of you.

You fuck Harry through his orgasm, and even after. He squirms in his seat. "Wait— too sensitive."

"I don't care, I haven't come yet. Don't you want to make me feel good? Have me coming around your thick cock?" You say sensually, and Harry nods. "Words."

"Yes– fuck! I want you to come, please come around my cock. Please, please..." He begins to beg, a tear rolling down his cheek.

Your toes curl at his whiny voice, and soon your juices are gushing all over his cock. Your pussy contracting around him seems to set Harry off even more, as you feel even more sperm spraying out of his dick and into your walls.

You ride out your high until you can't move anymore. You sit there, forehead pressed against Harry's as you both come down from what just happened.

After a minute or two, you decide to pull out. Slowly but surely, you manage to get Harry's dick out of you without hissing too much at the sensitivity of every single body part down there.

You lean against the desk, too wobbly to stand on your own, and you let Harry wipe you clean with the tissues on his desk. After cleaning himself up, he stands up and positions himself in front of you.

"Hey." He says. Your hand cups his jaw and your thumb wipes away the tear that is far down his face now.

"Hi." You tilt your head. The both of you burst out laughing, still surprised by what went down just now.

"That was really good." He says once the laughter has died down. You nod in agreement.

"Good enough for a repeat?"

Harry pretends to think it over, before he responds: "under one condition."

"And what would that be?" You quirk up an eyebrow, intrigued by his vagueness. He smiles at you so wide that you wonder if his mouth might be hurting.

"You let me take you out on a date first."

You roll your eyes, pretending not to be amused as he chuckles at your reaction. But the second you see the look on his face and the sincerity behind it, you realize that he is being quite serious about this request. You bite your lip, wanting to kiss him right then and there.

"I would love that."

[plotsignificanthaircut555]

Bottled Up (Satoru Gojo x Reader)

MDNI SMUT 18+ CONTENT

Gojo can’t cum. Too much on his mind, not enough time to himself, not enough chances to indulge. It’s becoming a matter of personal hygiene. He can't go on like this. He needs help. Your help.

Ao3 Masterlist.

WC: 7.4k Warnings: casual sex, raw sex, penetrative sex, kissing, kissing SLOPPY, oral m!receiving, discussion of anal but not present really, improper use of cursed energy, doggy, begging, crying, desperate whiny Gojo, brief mention on former satosugu,

------ Wow can you guys even believe? I actually wrote something about Gojo!! Tbh writing about/for him intimidates the fuck out of me but i have some longer form ideas about him so this was a good exercise. I hope y’all like it. -Doodle

Satoru can’t cum. He’s broken. His balls dried up. His dick died. His cursed energy overloaded and rendered him impotent. Limitless misfired and clogged him completely. It was the only way to explain why he hadn’t cum in two months.

He used to be able to cum. Fuck, he used to cum too easy. Ten years ago he would jerk off before hooking up so he didn’t cum too fast. He was so fucking sensitive, every touch or graze could send him shivering. Now he would have given anything for his days as a quick draw. That life was over.

Do people have cum caps? Like a finite amount of times they can orgasm and an excess of masturbation and experimentation in his youth had burned through his chances. He wants to believe that if he had known how wasteful he was, he would have acted differently, but it was a lie. He was too instinctual, everything in his nature, his upbringing, had taught him to trust his instincts above all else. They kept him alive, kept him going, kept him satisfied. But now, a vital piece of the puzzle was missing.

It was the sixty-sixth day in a row. He got home around eleven pm, an earlier night than most. His apartment, with its spotless, professionally tended, interior that betrayed the depraved chaos burning inside of him. Dropping his keys and shoes at the door he groaned into the silence at the way his work pants shifted against his throbbing erection trucked down his left leg. This was the part that was growing painful. The sensitivity. It started just around his pelvis, any brush of fabric or misjudged distance between himself and curses, near his hips would send a shaking beat of pleasure up his spine. But it spread, and spread. Even the car seat against his back was starting to turn him on. Last week Principle Yaga touched the back of his neck by mistake and his eyes rolled back. His black blindfold was working finding more work by the day. He started leaving limitless up constantly, well, more constantly. Only dropping completely after he had crossed the threshold of his home. Anything else was too risky.

Today had been rough, he woke up aching between his legs, the coldest shower he could stand helped to bring it down, but not for long. On the way to work he had to cross and re-cross his legs, a difficult feat at his height, over and over until he got to the school. Because of his existence in the good graces of the universe, there were no classes, only a brutally endless string of meetings. Not good, but at least…seated. By the time the final meeting was dismissed he thought he could bite through a cement support beam. On the way out, one of the higher ups patted him on the back, limitless blocking it from making contact, but he found a tantalizing urge to let it pass through, just for the contact.

He was fucking ruined.

Passing through the mainroom, up the staircase to the bedroom, he pulled his blindfold from his eyes, blinking a few times, snowy eyelashes relaxing from their position pressed against his eyelids. Finally in his bedroom, he pulled his shirt over his head, dropping it to the floor, already breathing hot and deep. He passed his bed into the ensuite bathroom, clicking the light and taking in his own reflection.

Fuck, he looked rough.

Skin sallow. Muscles strained and tense. Still handsome, of course, but drained. Like he had been wrung out.

And alone.

Satoru clicked the light off. He couldn’t go there.

He walked himself over to the bed, lithe hands finding his belt and unfastening it, slipping his pants down his legs. A relieved sigh left his mouth as the tight garment was removed. He sat on the edge of his bed, palming his desperate erection. He was shivering, the stimuli so overwhelming already. He wasn’t hopeful, but he was too desperate to stop. Keening back onto the bed, he let his eyes close. He didn’t want to see, the only sensation he wanted was to feel himself, touching himself, bringing him to the peak that felt so insurmountable. He was diamond hard now, finally he pulled himself free of the confines of his briefs. Taking his length into his hand, circling his palm over his barren tip.

He couldn’t even precum anymore.

He groaned in frustration, scooting back further on the cushy mattress, his briefs joining his discarded pants on the floor. He spit onto his hand, coating his dick from base to head, easing his strokes. He let his head fall back against the pillows, dredging up memories of past lovers to try and aid his efforts. He wasn’t really a porn guy, not above it, certainly. But it was overstimulating, bright lights, too colorful, just overwhelming to his already heightened senses. He preferred to rely on his own mind, he was in total control there. Or at least he used to be. His mind was too full of other bullshit to wander into the salacious. Work, always work. Lesson plans, missions, reports, meetings.

Fuck.

He reset, turning over onto his knees, moving one of his silken pillows under him, opting to rut against the soft cushion. One hand underneath pressing it against his length. His head hanging heavy under his shoulders, sweat dripping down the slope of his nose. The cold silk pillowcase against his cock, making his sweating body erupt into goosebumps. He slid his hips, gasping out shuddering breaths. It felt so good, so cold and soft against his begging erection. The muscles in his back rippled, swelling and beckoning under his frosty, even skin. The light of his bedroom cast gorgeous shadows on his back and hips, bringing out his excellent physique. The shadow of his spine, the lat muscles under large, perfectly worked arms, almost appearing as angel wings in the low, soft glow.

He brought his thoughts to long shapely legs, thighs shaking under his touch. Lips, wet and swollen, against his own. This was working, his breath was starting to catch in time with his hips against the pillow. He let his mind continue to wander and increased his speed. Glute muscles flexing hard as images of bodies he once held, some with features he knew well, some less familiar but still worth remembering. Some too familiar, silky, long black hair falling into his mouth. Dark violet eyes, full, strong arms.

No. Not that. He couldn’t go there either. There was nothing left for him anymore.

It killed his momentum. Still aching below but too stormy on top. Stilling his hips, slouching over the mattress. He took a few deep breaths, trying to take in the room around him in pieces, grounding himself in the present. In reality.

He wiped his wet hand over his face then on the sheets below him, gripping hard. This was getting ridiculous. He felt pathetic. Tears burned behind his blessed eyes. He felt broken. He felt shame bubbling behind his navel. He couldn’t live like this. He needed to cum. He needed to release all of this build up and get himself right.

Satoru pulled his phone from the discarded pants and tapped it a few times. Until he found just what he was looking for.

Your phone screen illuminated your dark bedroom. Your humidifier was on, your lights had been long turned out. You had just fallen asleep after some restless tossing and turning. The screen lit up again, this time chiming out a text notification. That jarred you from the warm grip of dream and made your head spring up. You glanced at the screen, trying to read the too bright notification with sleep still coating your eyes. But before you could, it changed to the dimmer incoming call screen. It vibrated on the nightstand, suddenly too loud to ignore. You sighed, and retrieved it.

It was Gojo. He was calling you. You hadn’t seen him in months. fuck was that right? You thought back. You hadn’t seen him in…six months. The last time you left his gorgeous, perfectly styled, agonizingly well put together apartment, it hadn’t been on bad terms, by any metric, but it wasn’t like you were falling into each other's arms either. There hadn’t been any blow out or agreement not to see each other anymore, it just fizzled out. You were sure you had been disappointed when the calls and texts slowed to a trickle, but it wasn’t like you were dating or anything. You had hooked up a few times earlier in the year. No more than four times total. Okay, six times. Okay, nine times. Okay, you lost track somewhere in the second month. What really qualifies as hooking up these days, anyway? Just penetration or sexting? Oral? Hand stuff? Hand stuff in public? Other stuff in public? What should even qualify if you were keeping track -- which you weren’t! You answered the call.

“Do you know what time it is?” You sighed out, smiling through your feigned annoyance.

He purred on the other side of the line, “hmmmm, what are you wearing?”

“Pajamas, because it's almost one in the morning.” your voice was hoarse, sleep having laid your vocal cords to rest.

“Sounds hot.” You could hear his stupidly sexy smile, “You should come over. Can’t waste an outfit like that at home.”

You laugh, already planning how quickly you could pull yourself together, and whether or not the trains were still running, “You’re kidding me. I haven't heard from you in months. You call at an ungodly hour and expect me to come running over at the drop of a hat?”

“You don’t have to run, I’ll send a car.” He coos.

You laugh again, stretching in your bed, letting out a soft groan.

“mmmm, do that again.” His voice grew heavier, there was some suspicious sounding rustling on his end.

You stayed quiet, wanting to see if you would hear anything else and wanting to deny him.

“Now don’t be like that, baby.” He whines, he sounds pathetic “I need your help. It’s an emergency.”

You got out of your bed, still taking your sweet time, savoring his helplessness, “An emergency, huh? Nothing fatal I hope.”

His tongue clicks on the other side, “hmmm, it’s hard to say. Could be a fever, I’m feeling…hot.”

You hate that a line so corny is making you bite your lips to keep quiet. You slipped into a cuter, but still comfy lounge set, a bit more versatile than your pajamas “Sounds contagious, maybe it would be best if I stayed home…”

“Please!” His voice changed, cracking and almost panicked, “I need you, please.”

There was no version of this conversation that ended any other way, “Send the car.”

“Already outside.” You heard his face split into that gorgeous smile you couldn't resist, not even over the phone.

When you arrived at his front door, you didn't even have a chance to knock before he swung the door open. And fuck he looked good. Bad, but good? Not bad, just…disheveled. He hadn’t bothered to put a shirt on, inhumanly muscled torso glowy and flushed, his hair matted and unkempt, a pair of sweatpants hanging low on his hips. The long, angled white scar healed from an injury long past going from his shoulder to his opposite hip. You traced the line with your eyes, recalling the first time you had seen it, how he had moved your fingers over it, getting you used to the feeling of it under your touch, assuring you that it was long healed and nothing to fuss over. Every inch of him was perfect, despite his pain, his history. You couldn’t resist the way he made you feel like you were the only person in the world. Your ogling did not go unnoticed, looking up to his face you saw the smile you had heard so much of recently.

“Miss me?” He opened the door wider, allowing you to enter, ducking under his arm.

“Yeah.” You admitted rolling your eyes and stepping inside, leaving your shoes at the door.

You took in the sleek, cavernous town house around you. His decor hadn’t changed at all, a lovely front room, a staircase along one windowed wall, leading up to his bedroom. If you were to press further into the main floor, peeling back shoji screens you would find more bedrooms, frozen in time just as they were last left by their former inhabitants, his office, barely ever touched, a gorgeous bathroom complete with a personal sauna. For someone who spent nearly no time at home, he really did have the house dreams are made of.

“I can get you something to drink if you want.” He offers, shutting and locking the door.

“That’s okay. You sounded pretty desperate on the phone, I’d hate to keep you waiting.

He wasn’t totally ready for this part. Having to explain what was going on with him. He shifted a bit, he wanted you so bad. He needed it. He needed every part of you right now, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it.

“Come on Gojo, you got me out here. Don’t get shy on me now. What’s the big emergency?” You set your bag down on his expansive kitchen island, not subtly eyeing the absolutely incomprehensible bulge tenting the front of his sweats.

“It’s been so long, why the rush, Sugar?” He plays coy, approaching you with a suave gait, moving past you to the refrigerator, “Sparkling water? Still? I can go down to the cellar if you want something stronger?”

“Gojo…” You raise your eyebrows.

“I have tea or coffee if you prefer. Some sodas, you like diet right?”

“Gojo come on---”

“You know i'm not great in the kitchen but if you’re hungry I could---”

“Satoru!” You cut him off, finally pulling his attention from the icebox, “What’s up with you?”

His white eyebrows knit together in the center, making his eyes droop pitfully, “I can’t cum.”

You can barely hear his confession, and you must have heard him wrong so in earnest you ask, “What?”

“I can’t cum. For weeks, nothing. I try and I try and just…nothing.” He blurts, simultaneously relieved and mortified.

You know you shouldn't stare, that you should say something, but you’re dumbfounded. There was once a time, not too long ago even, where he had you bent over this exact counter pushing through his own leaking orgasm to bring you to tears. And that had been the third round that night. You always thought he was the untouchable man, a paragon of self control and pushed limits. To think of him unable to even pleasuring himself, it felt impossible.

“You can’t cum?” You say dumbly.

“Well now that you have repeated it, I think I must be cured, you can go now.” He rolled his eyes, leaning his shoulder against the fridge, fighting the hiss that bubbles in his throat from its chilling surface against his heated skin.

“I’m sorry!” You put your hands up like you had been caught, “It's just a little hard to believe! I never expected you to….struggle…in this…area.”

Gojo’s eyebrows flew up, every word you said made it worse. You could feel it but you couldn’t stop yourself. You were apparently determined to put every foot possible in your big stupid mouth.

“I just mean because you’re usually so good! How could this happen, are you sick? I don’t know why I would even ask that! Obviously you’re not sick, you're just….having some…dysfunction.”

“Why would you say dysfunction?” He stared at you, ego bruised but still amused at how poorly you were handling this.

“I didn’t mean like that! I Just---”

“Any other word. Any word in the world you could have said, and you go with dysfunction.” He chuckles, his own embarrassment now vacated completely in wake of how flagrantly you had just shit the bed.

“That was super dumb, and I’m really sorry. I have no idea what to say.” You just gave up on the second half of the sentence, knowing nothing you were saying was going to help.

“I don't have erectile dysfunction, the erection is not the problem,” He doesn’t have to gesture below his waist, the subject of conversation stands perfectly at attention, pushing against the flimsy fabric, “It won't go away, I’m stuck like this, and I can’t think about anything else, and I can’t get anything done. I need your help, you have to help me get rid of it.”

Your chest warmed a bit, a sly canary eating smile crossed your face, “So you called me, huh?”

“Yes I called you.” He sighs.

“Out of everyone you could have booty called to help your infinite boner, you call little old me? Gojo, I'm touched!” You sound like you're accepting a Nobel prize.

He rolls his eyes, “I knew you were going to be annoying about this.”

You took a seat at one of the bar stools at the counter, resting your head flirtatiously on your perched hands, “So like when you were choosing who to call, what made you pick me…am I just that good?”

You were, fuck you really were. He had thought about you so many times, Your perfect body, your pretty eyes, your soft hair, your legs around his hips, your fucking mouth. It had been too long over all, but it had been far too long since he had been with you. He called you because he knew you were great, and because he trusted you. He could be honest with you without judgement, your current reaction notwithstanding. He knew that he could count on you to be discreet and up front. There weren’t any guessing games when you were together, he didn’t have to guess or grasp for clues at how you were feeling. He knew you.

“That’s right.” He nodded, willing to let you have this.

You let out a teasing school yard oooooooooooooh. Batting your eyelashes and grinning widely, feeling like the absolute queen of the universe.

But he was growing impatient, “You gonna help me out, or what?”

“Sounds like I have quite the reputation to protect, how long has it been exactly?” You eyed him up and down.

“Still about twenty centimeters. Give or take.” He answers, “Oh! You mean--two months.”

“Months? Two MONTHS?” You gawked and then caught yourself, “I’m sorry I know that doesn’t help…I just can’t believe you’re upright. How are you not hospitalized?”

“If this conversation takes much longer I may have to be.” He crosses the room to you, leaning over where you are seated on the counter, putting his arm around you to grip the back of your chair.

You lean back, taking in a breath as he leans closer. Fuck, he’s so handsome. Perfect pearly skin, hair soft and fluffy, those fucking eyes holding you still under their gaze.

“Come on, Sugar, help a guy out. We’re friends right? Friends help each other.” His breath is sweet against your face.

You feel hypnotized, looking between his eyes and lips in a dizzying circle. His cocky demeanor you were so used to was crackling, you could see beads of sweat that had formed on his brow, his tongue wet and heavy kept his lips parted, drawing you closer. He smelled like him, warm and clean, the whole place smelled like him. You were completely in his arena, but you still had all the power. The Strongest asking you for help, begging even, you felt high. You tilted your head up, close to his face, catching his eyes,

“What are friends for?” You closed the distance between you, locking your lips together.

He is quick to pull you closer, making your breasts press hard against his chest, drawing a moan from both of you. His tongue slips past your lips, and maps the interior of your mouth quickly. Reacquainting himself with your taste. Even just a kiss, a real kiss, made his body shudder. His left hand holds your face, his long fingers splayed over your cheek, from your neck up to you temple, his right hand held the back of your neck, keeping you firm in place against him. You are far handsier than him in this moment. You can’t stop yourself, you missed his body, his kiss, him. Feeling his toned stomach, around his hips to his back, digging your nails in just enough to see if he gasps. He does not. Far too focused on the sloppy, dripping kiss he waited so patiently for. He’s leaning over you, pushing you further and further back, making you dangerously close to falling off the stool below you. But of course, his hand grabs your back, holding you still, right where we wanted you. Just past the point where you would have to engage your abs, but not far enough for you to want to hold yourself up. Muscles right on the precious of passive ability and focused contraction, forcing to to rely on his hold, trusting him completely, and he could feel you would relax into his palm, melting into his touch.

“Fuck, Gojo. You really are desperate.” You giggled as his kissed moved down to your jaw and neck.

He moaned against your skin as your nails clawed at his lower back, nodding his head passively, running his tongue over your pulse point.

“You’re so pretty.” He hooks your leg over his hip, pressing the problem child erection right against yours clothed cunt, drawing a shaky gasp from you.

“Not here.” He pulls himself away. “Upstairs…do this right…let’s”

He’s not finishing any of his sentences, you almost worry if whatever problem that resides in his cock could be spreading to his brain. But maybe it was contagious because you can’t bring yourself to care. Holding your hand a bit too tight, he pulls you forward and up the staircase to his bedroom. He doesn’t bother shutting the door, no one else has lived here in a long time. The house is quiet, bar from the panting breaths that drip from both of you, the rustle of clothes, and the reconnection of hot, desperate skin. You kiss him again, pushing him back toward the bed. He allows you to push him onto the mattress, disconnecting your lips.

“So?” You flirt, standing naked before him, letting him see all of you, “how do you wanna fix this?”

He has shed his sweatpants in the shuffle, propped up on his elbow, the other hand giving himself long, slow strokes.

“I’ve been dreaming about that mouth, baby.” He chews on the interior of his bottom lip, “show me if you’re as good as I remember.”

He spreads his legs, allowing you a good long look at how hard he really has become. Angry, pink tip swollen, veins along the shaft straining against the skin. The lower ab muscles are so strained you think they might pop. You had almost forgotten how fucking big he is. Everything about him was too big. His broad, strong body, his long spindly legs, built, strong arms hanging below his hips, those big hands with their knuckly fingers, his long, thick cock and the ego that accompanied. Seeing all of him, how big he was, made a shock run up and down your spine.

How the fuck had you fit this thing inside of you before?

“Oh, don’t be shy now,” he echos your earlier words, “you can take it.”

Not to be out foxed, you steel yourself and sink to your knees in between his spread legs. He stops stroking himself, leaning against both elbows now, waiting with held breath for you to begin.

Your put your hands on his knees, massaging them down and up, feeling the taut muscles of his thighs, the soft hairs under your hands.

“You think about me a lot?” You kissed the side of his left knee.

“Mhm.” His head hung backs exposing his delicious, wiry throat.

His adam’s apple bobbed as he gasped, you ran your nails down his legs, making his hips jerk upward.

“Don’t tease baby, it’s bad enough already!” He begged.

Fuck he sounded good like that. No one could swing the pendulum of pathetic and cocky quite like Satoru Gojo.

“Two months huh?” You carried on, giving open mouthed kisses up his thigh between thoughts, “you must be sooooo sensitive. Poor baby.”

He nods, his eyes squeezed right, trying to focus on every sensation you’re giving him.

Finally you reach the divot between his hip and the base of his pelvis, the internal hinge of his thigh. You ran your tongue along the muscle, tasting the salt of his body. His hips jerk again.

“Please!” He cries out, the lamp at his bedside flicker off and on again.

“Careful Satoru.” You warned, “all you had to do was ask.”

You swirl your tongue around the swollen, aching tip of his dick. Looping around the underside of the head and sliding your mouth down further.

Satoru was in heaven, his eyes rolled back in his head, he fought to keep his hips still, he didn’t want to hurt you, but fuck he wanted more.

You slide your tongue along each beautiful vein, making a perfect map in your head of the topography of his penis. Pulling off and sinking back down again you could take him all the way to the base, coarse white hair ticking your nose as your relaxed your throat to accommodate him he fell back against the bed, one hand moving your hair off your forehead so he could see your pretty face. He didn’t know what he wanted to do more, relax into the pleasure and let it wash over him, or watch you take him further. He leaned up to watch, just as your peeked on eye open to see him falling apart. But the eye contact was too much for him to bear, he felt his cheeks erupt in a blush, and he fell backward again, using one arm to shield his eyes.

You tutted, running his cock along your lips as your spoke, giving it sloppy kisses to make the syllabals, “oh Satoru, look at me, baby. Doesn’t it feel good?”

He nods but doesn’t look up. He can’t bear it. Your weepy eyes filling with tears from the lack of breath, your lips swollen, encasing his cock head. Your hair pulled to one side, giving him a perfect view of your hollowed cheeks as you suck and pull at him. With your spit coating his cock, the sensitivity has doubled. Wet, schlucking sounds fill his bedroom, alongside your haughty moans. Or wait…that’s actually him moaning like that. He doesn’t even recognize himself, he’s panting, sweating, begging. He didn’t even realize he was talking but the praises have been spilling from him continuously:

Yes

Baby yes just like that

Fuck you’re so good

You’re so pretty

Fuck you’re doing so good

Feels so good

Baby

Fuck

Sugar

So pretty

So good

I can’t I

Please baby make me

Fuck you’re

Agh

Oh

Fu

Oh

Ah

O

I

All he can manage by the time he looks back at you are open vowel sounds. It’s feels fucking incredible, perfect, if this were three months ago he would have cum in an instant. This was the closest he had felt, but it still wasn’t enough. He had to be inside you. The hand keeping your hair back rounded your face, his thumb pushing against your lips.

“I need to fuck you.” He says breathlessly, “I won’t cum until I fuck you, please.”

You pull off of him, a little disappointed that you wouldn’t get to brag about your head game, but you push it aside and join him on the bed. Clingy as he is, he pulls you close, kissing you hard again. Your mouth is wet with saliva and pre cum. He didn’t have the time to be impressed at your skill bringing forth the pearly substance, he coveted so greatly. He was too focused on being as close as two people can be. You move to straddle his lap, but he shakes his head, breaking from your lips.

“Bend over.” His mouth is wet now, both of you wet from lips to chin.

You grin and climb off him, stacking a few pillows to give you something to rest on and presenting your hips to him. Satoru is getting his bearings back, he feels more in control now that he has moved onto his knees behind you. Desperate as he is he can’t resist brushing two feather light fingers down your spine, watching you arch as he drags them further and further down. Your spine snakes, your hips sway, his fingers find the cleft where your spine meets your ass, a perfectly little dimple, waiting for his hands to paw at, your breathy moan eggs him on, sliding further down, feeling your tight asshole clench from just the lightest of contact.

“You remember when you let me back here?” He circles it, reminiscing, “you were so tight. fuck, you felt so good baby.”

“Remember when you let me back there.” You tried to sound tough but your position bent over with your head buried in your hands made it difficult.

“Mmmmhm.” He felt his dick twitch again, remembering when you had fingered him open, sucking him in tandum, he swore he saw an angel that night.

And here you were again, having rushed over in the middle of the night just to help him, trembling under his fingertips. Maybe you really were an angel. His very own guardian angel. If anyone could bed a steward of the divine it would be him.

“I thought you needed my help.” You whined.

He giggles, leaning over you, close enough that his lips touch your ear, his heavy cock pressing against your slit,“Just making sure you’re as needy as I am.”

He runs his tongue over the shell of your ear, making you squeal. Of course he remembered all your sensitive spots. He returned to his knees behind you, spreading you open, marveling at the mess you had made. Dripping honey onto the bed, onto your thighs, on his hand. His mouth floods, the desire to bury his head between your legs quickly matching his desire to cum.

“Later.” You whimpered, having read his mind, “you need my help.”

He beams, “so selfless.”

Finally, after an hour of build up since your arrival, the agonizing time waiting for you to get here, and the two months of celibacy that had brought him here, he aligned himself at your drooling hole, your spit was still shining along his cock but he ran either side though your folds anyway, making sure he was wet enough. He had fucked enough and had a big dick for long enough that he knew taking it all required some specific anatomy or a lot of prep, usually both. And while you were familiar with him, and giving yourself so willingly to him, he didn’t actually want to hurt you.

“Satoru please just—-“

The rest of your sentence would never see the air of his bedroom. It’s conclusion stolen from you and replaced with a pathetic scream as he pushed inside. He had meant to ease in but as soon as he started he couldn’t stop himself, he bottomed out in his first thrust. A loud smack of your ass hitting his hips still resounded in the room as he pulled back and thrusted in again. Your back arched evilly, dangerously close to snapping your spine in half. Despite his tunnel vision, Satoru eased his hand up your back, effortlessly smoothing it and gripping your shoulder for more leverage.

“Yes! Oh fuck yes.” He grunted, thrusting in an evil pace.

You couldn’t even speak, he was so deep, you were willing to bet his made an impression agains the front of your stomach. On your pillow pedastule you sank further, and reached up one formerly supportive hand to grip his on your shoulder.

“Sa…sa…” you panted out, not even able to string his name together.

He moved to long, languid, but devastatingly deep thrusts, the hand on your shoulder holding the side of your neck now, “that’s it, sugar. Say my name. Say my name, baby, come on.”

You tried, you really fucking tried but the letters wouldn’t come, “S—Sa—-sss.”

Your eyes rolled back, crumbling completely into the silken pillowcases, not caring if your spit or tears ruined the fabric. He spanked you once hard, making your head shoot up.

“I said say it.” He grunted.

Cocky for a man who was nearly in tears over the phone because he couldn’t bust.

“Satoru!” You finally spilled, his cock pushing hard against your g spot, “Satoru! Satoru please! Be gentle!”

Now that your voice had found you again it was hard not to beg him for mercy.

“Please baby, please! Fuck that’s so good.” You babbled, bringing a sick smile to his face.

He fucked harder, deeper into you, reveling the way your walls fluttered around him. You were so tight he had initially worried he was going to split you in two. But you are his angel, he should have known better than to deny your divinity. Satoru could hear your moans increasing in pitch and becoming choppy. He reached around your hip, finding the perfect pearl between your lower lips and circling his middle finger around. The clench that followed sent you both keening. His fingers brought forth an orgasm you didn’t think was nearly as close. Your hips shaking, biting into the pillow to keep from screaming.

“No baby, let me hear you.‘I need it.” He panted, not stopping his fingers on your clit or his evil thrusts, seeming deeper and deeper every second.

You tried to lift your head but felt dizzy, your vision wasn’t right, your clit throbbed beautifully but made you aware of how fast your heart was. Gojo pulled out turning you on your back, reinserting himself with a kiss to your cheeks.

“Don’t pass out on me, okay? I need you baby, I need your help. Help me, please.” He thrusted slower, only moving a few inches at a time as your came down from the mind fuzzing orgasm.

You nodded, coming back to yourself, you pulled your legs over his hips, your hands moving down the curves of his body. He slower thrust gave you time to admire him. He really was so beautiful. Looking at the sun and having to look away beautiful. His skin was reddening from effort and arousal, splotchy flushes that still couldn’t take away his perfection. The divots on his shoulders, the smell of his sweat, the taste of his spit. Fucking him felt like being completely encompassed in perfection incarnate. And you couldn’t feel luckier to have the chance to be so. He opened his pleasure screwed up eyes, those glowing blue irises, that contained so much of what everyone thought he was, looking down at you with so much trust, so much vulnerability, your heart lurched into your throat.

“You okay?” Satoru scanned your face.

You nodded, pulling him in to kiss you again, feeling his soft hair under your fingers. You held on as he increased his thrusts again. Speed, depth, power, all of it ramped back up to fainting orgasm levels.

Satoru was on the verge of tears, he couldn’t do without again. He couldn’t not cum one more time. He wouldn’t make it. He would bury himself into any hole you offered him again and again and again until he was free from this. Reaching back and pulling your leg over his shoulder, he allowed himself even deeper into you. He watched your face scrunch up in pleasure, your mouth drop open to catch hot, stolen breath from him. He wanted to make it easier, slotting his lips against yours and kissing you deep, tasting your pleasure. He swooned, his heart felt so tight and full it could burst, he was so grateful for you. For your body, your generosity, your care for him that you made look so simple. He knew he wasn’t an easy person to care about, but it seemed to him like you had never considered it cumbersome. Kissing you he felt the tears long built up by restriction begin to fall, wetting his own cheeks as well as yours.

“Satoru are y—-?” You worried against his lips, your hand in his hair moving from. A harsh grip to a soothing pet.

He shook his head, although you were right, “it’s okay. Thank you. Just thank you.”

He kissed you again and carried on thrusting, long and deep. He found your other hand and took it in his own, interlocking your fingers. Hips hard and fast, the friction not enough, he needed to touch every inch of you with every inch of himself. Your pressed against his chest as you moved to match his thrusts, putting aside the emotions that had arisen and remembering your purpose for being here. He had to break away from the kiss, pushing his forhead against yours, gasping out as you synced your thrusts together.

Oh.

Like a dim lantern in a barren desert, a non phosphorescent illusory light in a cave, the shine of climax came into his view. Still holding your hand, one of your legs over his shoulder, bending your body into a bizzare position, he chased it with everything he could. Drilling himself into your drooly, puffy pussy, again and again, causing you to cry out.

“Baby almost, cum with me, please! Pleasepleaseplease.” He squeezed your hand a bit too hard, your fingers felt cramped.

Well, they would, if you could feel them. And your leg would likely feel strained, if you could feel your hamstring still. But you couldn’t feel anything except the white hot pleasure bursting inside of you everytime he pushed against your gspot. Not breaking away from his hand, your other shot between your legs circling your clit, making you tighten up around him. Satoru cried out, the devilish squeeze of your walls felt like the last barrier between him and total bliss.

“Please baby, please.” He can’t control his voice, he doesn’t care, nothing matters when he is this close, “yes, cum around me. I need it. Cum.”

Your eyes flutter back, your head pushes against the pillow, your body erupts into cooling, overwhelming bliss.

Finally, his torment turns, the ache in his stomach unraveling. He can’t believe it, it’s finally about to be over, he feels your body shake underneath him, your hand gripping his so tightly, your cries filling his bedroom. Just at the precipice Gojo, steals one last look at your pleasure struck face, and he falls.

The lights in his bedroom bloom, swell, and overload. Bulbs bursting as he pumps himself through the most earth shattering orgasm he has ever known. Line after line of thick, long stored cum spilling from him into your waiting cunt. The room is plunged into darkness, he buries his head in your neck, panting hard.

You smile as you feel him filing you, and continue filling you. He had always cum a lot, he joked that it was his lineage begging him for continuation. But this was, beyond. Load after load of hot, desperate cum. He pushed his hips closer to you, his body yearning to become fused to yours. To never separate again.

You move one careful hand up his back, feeling the cooling sweat at his neck, the soft hair at the nape. His breath slows against your skin, but he doesn’t yet push himself off of you, keeping his heavy frame collapsed on you. But you don’t dare complain, committing the heat of his body to memory. The moonlight from the window is now, thanks to his discharge of power, the only light in the room. Your eyes adjust slowly, his features glowing in soft blue-white light. The air in the room is thick and full of both of you. Had you an eternity to indulge yourself in this moment, it would still feel too intangible to recall. But you try anyway.

Once his eyes have stopped spinning in their sockets like some knock out cartoon, Satoru pushes himself off of you, staying inside, just hovering above your body. His misty blue eyes look over every inch of you in a second. Taking in everything about this moment, how your skin reflects the moonlight, your eyes heavy and half lidded with sleep and bliss, your soft smile waiting for him to say something. But he wasn’t ready yet, he pressed his lips to yours again, firm but not desperate. He’s kissed you lavishly and with no burning sense of time. It could be called lazy if it weren’t for the focused decadence behind his mouth. He finally separates, thin silks of spit still unbroken between you two.

You brought your unheld hand to his face, cupping his cheek, watching as his eyes flutter shut. You could see tears drying on his cheeks, overwhelm and gratitude thier origin. The moon brought them forward for your viewing, you swiped a thumb under one eye. They both open under your touch, filling with something unreadable. He let go of your hand, opting to mirror your hold on your face, using one long finger to brush away a hair gelled to your sticky forehead.

“Thank you.” He reiterates, the frantic gratitudes from before nullified into a sincerity that made you nervous despite the juxtoposition of his cock still inside of you.

“Anytime, Satoru.” You can feel your cheeks heat, but your bliss doesn’t waver.

He slid out of you slowly, careful not to jostle his tingling, overstimulated length.

You both are left panting once he has been removed completely. He moved onto his side next to you, on his back, breathing up into the dark ceiling. You realize that you had no way of knowing what time it was. The thoughts of work and responsibility tomorrow we’re beginning to gnaw at the edges of your mind. You should get home soon, leave him to his new sexual freedom. You’d imagine he would be ready to pass out if he wasn’t asleep already. The expulsion of cursed energy enough to knock out the lights, enough to send him comatose.

You should know better than to underestimate him. Gojo sits up, stretching his long arms in front of him, allowing the formerly clenched back muscles to reset. Leaning back against his hands he looks down to you.

“I gotta change the bulbs and reset the fuse box. You wanna stay here? Once I’m done we can go again.” That flirty smile quickly irresistible, “orrrr, if you help me I’ll be done ever faster and I can thank you properly.”

You rolled your eyes, giggling, “I’m still recovering from the last favor I did for you. Come get me when you’re done.”

You settle back into his bed, the luxe duvet the perfect cloud-like weight on your shoulders. The smell of him clinging to every stitch of his sheets.

He moved off the bed, slipping on his underwear and making quick work of changing the burst light bulbs. This wasn’t the first time a miscalculated charge had knocked out the electrical system of his house. He had a private grid, it wasn’t that elegant but between the solar panels on the outside and a small self sustaining aquaphir underneath, it was nearly entirely self sufficient. So it was simple enough to fix when it did happen. When he switched the fuse box, the electric hum returned. Back in his bedroom he found you sleeping, curled up in his bedding, snoring softly. He moves some hair off your shoulder, fingers gentle on your thin, soft skin. Bare except for the duvet pulled over your shoulders. He crouched next to you silently, pressing a tender kiss to your cheek. He was lucky to have you, someone who would help him so readily, so selflessly. Someone he could trust and confide in. It had been a long time since he could trust someone like this. Still standing over you, he watched as your stirred, sleepy eyes opening to take him in, squinting against the refreshed lighting.

“Coming back to bed?” Your sleep riddled voice charmed.

“Oh I’m not done with you yet.” He moved into bed beside you, taking your body in his arms once again, his lips fighting home under your jaw.

He really was insatiable.

YAY!!! I hope y'all enjoyed this one. It was fun to write and fell together really easily. I am a lot less intimidated by writing gojo now. But I would love to hear yall's feedback on how it came off!! PLEASE! again, i have a much longer, more structured idea for him that I am wanting to build up to eventually so i would really love to know what yall think. Doodle <3 <3

[moonstruckme]

can we get sleepy reader x sleepy remus where they just the most perfect night routine designed for sleep

Can I get a nighttime routine with sleepy remus is the real question (pleasepleaseplease)

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 613 words

Remus likes to keep the thermostat low at night, so you’re burrowed under your thick comforter, lying on your stomach with one of your legs stuck out awkwardly to touch his. Your boyfriend is sitting up half out of the covers (you don’t know how he can stand it) and sipping chamomile tea while he reads. 

Ordinarily you’d be reading too, but you’ve fallen into a stint of obsession with sudoku. The light from your candle warmer casts an orange glow over your notebook, your bedroom pleasantly saturated with the smell of bergamot and caramel. You’re partway through your sixth box of the nine, and you’re starting to doubt your ability to finish tonight, though you’re loath to leave a puzzle half done. 

It’s the fault of the warmth emanating from Remus underneath the covers, and the light sound of pages flipping, and the pleasant ache in your muscles from the stretches you make him do every night even though you don’t love having to get up and do them either. It’s the softness of your sheets, and the chirping of crickets outside your window, and worst of all the unbelievable plumpness of the pillow squished underneath your elbows, where it’d be so easy to drop your forehead down to rest above your notebook for only a minute…

“You’re getting tired.” Remus sounds amused. 

You turn your head, and he looks it too, his eyes honey-gold in the warm light. There’s a soft curve to one side of his mouth. 

“I thought nothing could distract you from your reading,” you accuse. 

“You can.” He folds the corner of his page, closing the book. His mug clinks as he sets it on the nightstand, empty. “Ready to turn the lights off?” 

“I haven’t finished the puzzle,” you argue. 

“It’ll still be there in the morning.” He puts his book next to his mug. 

“And you’re not at the end of a chapter,” you say as he takes the pen from your hand and the notebook out from under you, piling them neatly on top of his book on the nightstand. 

“Silly as it may sound, the same principle applies to book chapters as sudoku puzzles.” 

You can’t find it in you to argue further, humming your acquiescence as you turn onto your side and cozy up to him. Remus smiles and slides down beside you underneath the covers. He lets you worm your fingers under his ribs, touching the tip of his warm nose to your cold one. 

“One of us still needs to turn off the candle lamp,” he whispers. 

You groan. Resignation finds its way into your boyfriend’s expression even before you make yours as pleading as can be, eyes big and pitiful. 

“Can you do it?” you ask sweetly. 

Remus sighs as he gets out of bed, and you press your lips together to quell a smile. A few seconds later, the candle warmer’s light clicks off and he’s slinking back in beside you, long limbs still warm. 

“Thanks, handsome.” You take one of his hands in yours, kissing it and pulling it with you as you roll over and snuggle your back to his front. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, a smile in his tone. He slides his other arm underneath you. The room is nearly pitch black, only some silvery-blue moonlight bleeding in from the window along with the cricket sounds, and Remus’ cinnamony scent blurs together with the ones from your candle. 

“Night,” you sigh, already half gone. “Love you.” 

“I love you, too.” Remus’ voice sounds considerably softer now. He lays a soft kiss on the back of your head, palm splaying flat over your chest. “Night, darling.”

[oizysian]

I. Sign

Bound masterlist

Word count: ~1.5k

•

I walked into the luxurious building, unable to help myself from looking around in awe as I made my way to the receptionist. The office was beautiful; large windows to see the city views, flower arrangements all over, and calm, warm lighting.

“Hello, good morning. May I help you?” The receptionist spoke and I smiled at her, nodding nervously.

“Hi, yes, I have a job interview - the personal assistant job?”

“Ah, yes. You have to go through some screening before -”

She was interrupted by the ringing of her phone. Her phone lit up red and she picked it up, quiet as the other person on the line spoke. She hung up the phone without a word and looked me over before speaking to me again.

“You can go up to the C-Suite. It’s on the fifth floor. You can’t miss it.”

“T-thank you.” I smiled at her again before walking towards the elevators she pointed to.

I entered the elevator and pressed floor five, wringing my hands nervously as it started to move. My interaction with the receptionist had been so weird. Did I no longer have to get screened? Was going straight up to the C-Suite part of the interview? I swallowed roughly as the doors opened, revealing a long hallway with double doors at the end. I took a deep breath and made my way towards the doors, my hands shaking and my heart racing. What was waiting for me behind those doors?

When I finally reached them, I placed my hand on the knob before pulling back. I should knock. I pulled my hand back and knocked gently on the door, almost hoping nobody answered. I was scared, but I really needed the job.

I took a step back as one of the doors opened. There stood a beautiful redhead, taller than me, dressed elegantly. She was obviously one of the bosses.

“Come in.” She said quietly, a soft smile on her face as she moved to the side so I could enter.

I smiled back at her and walked inside, noting the sizable desk in the middle of the room and the large windows behind it.

“This is Wanda’s office. Mine is on the sixth floor, but I spend most of my time here.” I turned to look at her and I realized if she wasn’t Wanda Maximoff, she must’ve been …

“Natasha Romanoff.” She extended her hand to me and I took it, shaking it carefully, as if she would break. “Wanda will be back in a minute. She had to … deal with an employee.”

I nodded in understanding despite the fact that I wasn’t sure if I understood what she meant. Was someone being reprimanded? Fired?

“Together, we��ve drawn up a special contract for you, if you accept.”

A special contract for me?

“I shouldn’t say anything else. We should wait for Wanda. Would you like a seat?”

She gestured towards the chair in front of the desk and I nodded politely, sitting down and looking up at her.

“I’m Y/N Y/L/N,” I finally said meekly. “And I really need this job.” I chuckled.

She smiled and nodded, walking over to the desk and sitting on the edge of it, crossing her legs and folding her hands on her lap.

“You seem to be the perfect candidate - to me. I’m sure Wanda will agree.”

The door opened with a click and in strode Wanda Maximoff, looking stoic. Her heels clicked as she made her way to the desk, sitting in her chair and looking at me, surprised to actually see someone there.

“Natasha. Who’s this?”

“This is Y/N Y/L/N. She’s here for the personal assistant job.”

Wanda was quiet for a second before a look of happiness washed over her.

“Ah, yes, of course. I apologize, I was distracted.” She opened her desk drawer and pulled out some paperwork. “The contract.” She placed it on the desk in front of me and I reached over to grab it.

“We think you’ll be pleased with the conditions.” Natasha spoke, looking at Wanda from the corner of her eye before returning her attention to me.

I looked over the papers, highly legal jargon got me confused, but the pay sure stood out to me.

“I’m not sure I’m qualified for a job of this pay grade.” Suddenly, I wasn’t too sure of myself.

“Nonsense. If you continue reading, you’ll see that you are very qualified and will have an enjoyable time working with us.”

Enjoyable? I continued to read. Seven days a week, blah, blah, blah, always on call - a uniform?

“What uniform would I need?”

Wanda smiled widely.

“I’m so glad you asked.” She went back into one of her drawers and pulled out some highly detailed sketches. “We’ve had these made up specifically for this position.”

She slid the papers over to me and I looked at them briefly, my eyes widening with shock.

“T-these …”

“Hm, quite risqué, aren’t they?” Natasha finally spoke. “We have a very talented artist working for us. We’ll take your measurements once you sign the contract.”

“What exactly is this job?” I asked, my voice wavering ever so slightly.

“Our personal assistant. You do whatever we need you to do.”

“And what would you need me to do dressed like … this?”

They gave each other a look, then returned their gazes to me.

“I think you know.” Wanda leaned back in her chair.

“I’m not sure I do.”

“We want you to be our … stress reliever. Our personal pet, if you will.”

“A pet?”

“Would you like a collar? I thought a collar would’ve gone nicely with the ensemble.”

I blushed a fierce red. They wanted me for …?

“I think a collar would be a nice touch. Maybe one with a bell.”

“The ears are optional. This is a professional setting, after all.”

“Ears?” I squeaked and they both nodded.

“To go with your cute little, optional, tail.”

“Not so optional.” Natasha chimed in. “I require the tail.”

“Do you want me to perform … sex acts on you?”

They looked at each other and laughed. Nervously, I chuckled also, unable to control myself.

“No, not necessarily. We would be performing “sex acts” on you.”

“Occasionally you are more than welcome to reciprocate,” Wanda started.

“But only if you’re comfortable.” Natasha finished.

I stared at them blankly, then shifted my eyes towards the sketches of the outfits in my hand, unable to believe this was really happening. Would it be such a horrible job? They were both attractive, beautiful women and the pay was beyond fantastic. What could go wrong?

“Do you need some time to think it over?”

“No! No.” I said, blushing. “I-I’ll sign.”

“We thought you might.”

“Can you start on Monday?”

I took a deep breath and nodded and they both smiled brightly at me. Wanda took a pen from her holder and slid it over to me. I took it with a shaky hand and signed.

“I’m sure you have a lot of questions.” I nodded. “Everything will become clear in time.”

“It’s all really quite simple, actually.”

I blinked at them, waiting for them to elaborate.

“We’re gonna take turns fucking you throughout the day. You work seven days a week, just like us, you’re on call, even when you’re on vacation, so you can never be too far away.”

I gaped at them. I knew this was what I was getting into, but hearing it be said and put out into the universe was a whole other thing. My heart was racing and my mouth was dry. Was this a mistake? I was essentially giving away my life.

“And if you feel comfortable, you’re more than welcome to return the favor.”

“You want me to fuck you?”

“Oh, no!” Wanda said. “You can sit underneath my desk and eat me out -”

“Or provide cockwarming services while we’re on business calls.” Natasha sighed. “I love cockwarming.”

“I-I-”

“We know it’s a lot,” said Wanda. “But I think in time you’ll find the job equally, if not more enjoyable than we will.”

I bit my lip in thought and nodded. There was no way I’d give up a job like this. There couldn’t be an easier job out there.

“Perfect. Now, let’s get your measurements.”

[sunni-stuff]

I came, I saw, I liked.

—★! NSFW, MDNI, AFAB! Reader is in too deep.

part 3 here!!

Just one stream was enough to captivate you, leaving your panties soaked and craving for more. The man on the screen was unlike anyone you had ever seen before, and the promise of seeing more was constantly flashing and tempting you.

Without a second thought, you stumble out of bed and rush to your purse, desperate to grab your credit card before the man's performance ends. Your hands frantically search through the velvet lining of your purse until you finally grasp onto the plastic key that will unlock GD's show for you.

You rush back to your laptop, snatching it up and quickly typing in your credit card information with a sense of desperation that surprises you. It's crazy how one man can make you act like such a hornball. But he's not like other men; there's something about him that draws you in, and it's not just his impressive size. It was the way he spoke so few words that left you dripping wet like a leaky faucet. By the time your payment goes through and the paywall disappears, the live stream is over and he's already gone. You can't believe you missed it.

Although you were disappointed, his profile was now open for your viewing pleasure. There were only a few videos available, and the dates between them were inconsistent. Some had been posted months apart, while others had nearly a year in between. He didn't upload content frequently, which left his fans eager for more and made his live streams a special treat for those who managed to catch them before he disappeared again.

You crave to hear his voice a little more, so you click on one of his latest videos. Once again, GD's face is not shown, only the lower half of his body and a long-sleeved shirt. He leans forward with a closed hand, examining a pair of delicate red panties. You can tell by the way he holds them up that he is inspecting them closely. A dark chuckle escapes him as he shakes his head in disbelief. "When I said I didn't mind receiving gifts, this was not what I had in mind, love." His words are directed towards whoever sent him their lingerie. He speaks politely, his gravelly accent resonating in the dimly lit room where he sits.

"You didn't have to, but I do appreciate it," he says with a teasing tone as he lays the fabric across his lap. His fingers playfully trail along the material, revealing a hint of desire in his actions. "Were you thinking about me when you wore these? That's not very good, getting such a beautiful pair all wet." He chuckles at the idea, and soon there is a visible bulge in his pants. GD showed no hesitation, he pulls out his thick shaft from his sweatpants, the glistening drop of precum on the tip a clear indication of how turned on he is.

In a matter of seconds, he wrapped the garments around his member, the beads of precum coating them in his sticky fluids. The lace was now stained with a darker shade of red from his essence. GD's moans and groans escaped freely from his lips, not caring who heard and knowing it only added to the enjoyment for his audience. "You naughty little thing, sending me these. Is it a turn on for you to see my cum all over them?" His words were pure filth, nothing compared to what you experienced on his livestream.

Ring, Ring, Ring.

Your phone alarm startles you, and you see that it's already 10:30 PM. You know you should be asleep by now; tomorrow morning will be a nightmare if you don't get enough rest. You quickly turn off your alarm and shut down your laptop, getting ready for bed even though you feel the dampness between your legs.

Days had passed since everything happened, but the memory of GD still left you reeling. It was difficult to concentrate at work, as your mind would often drift to those videos. They seemed to constantly invade your thoughts, playing over and over again. You could almost hear his voice, whispering vulgar words that would make even a nun blush.

By the sixth day, you couldn't contain it any longer. After a long day of work, you quickly took off your pants, desperate for some sort of release from the mental torment that man had caused. Lying in bed with your laptop by your side, you clicked on a random video - anything would do, as long as he was in it.

The video was dimly lit and he wasn't in his usual spot. Instead, the camera angle was from above. On the bed lay a sex doll, only showing its waist down with visible hips, vagina, and ass. Its skin tone was similar to yours, but much more artificial and obviously made of plastic.

GD appears, and for once he was shirtless. His muscular arms are covered in intricate tattoos, and he even has a slight belly despite being in good shape. The broad expanse of his chest is proof of his fitness. The blur on his face only added to the mystery of the man who had captured your attention. You couldn't help but wonder what he looked like underneath.

He hovers over the toy, one hand engulfing his already hard cock. His fingers trace the curves and ridges of the doll's form, like a sculptor admiring his creation. "Such a pretty little pussy," he taunts devilishly, as if speaking to an invisible audience. But you know his words are meant for you, the doll a mere stand-in for your physical form in this fantasy.

What is he doing to you? You can't believe how quickly your body has responded; your hand slips under the waistband of your panties, eager to explore. Your fingers tease and caress your slick folds, already wet from anticipation. It's embarrassing how easily you get aroused, but you can't resist the urge to pleasure yourself while watching him on the screen.

He grits his teeth as the tip of his cock brushes against the entrance of the toy, letting out a sharp breath before plunging in with one forceful thrust. His hips collide with the toy's, causing his legs to tremble momentarily before he regains his balance. With both hands gripping the sides of the toy tightly, his fingers leave indentations on its surface as he moves forward relentlessly.

He's no longer gentle or teasing, but instead unleashes his hunger with unrestrained force. The man you saw on the live stream days ago is a far cry from the one in front of you now. His heavy breathing devours your thoughts, leaving you helpless. Your hand movements become more frantic, mirroring his fervent intensity. A shudder courses through you as he speaks through ragged breaths, "Fuck…you're squeezin' me so tight, dirty slag."

GD thrust ruthlessly into the toy, causing a slight bulge to swell in its plastic material. His impressive size stretched the toy to its limits, leaving a gaping hole each time he pulled back before slamming back in with a wet squelch. It was the kind of rough pleasure that could leave one sore and unable to walk the next day. GD slows down, letting out a frustrated grunt as he crawls onto the bed, his knees sinking into the soft mattress. He needs more pressure and better leverage to reach his peak. His large hands squeeze the toy firmly, as if trying to squeeze every last bit of pleasure from it.

His body stirs once more, this time with a slower and deeper thrust that hits at the core. If it were you the tip of his manhood would press against your cervix, it makes you wonder what it would feel like to have him inside you. You can see his expertise as he handles the toy, using his body like a skilled tool. A pleasurable tingle travels up your spine and you instinctively lift your hips to meet your fingers, which are now swirling delicious circles on your eager pearl.

GD's movements are precise and well-practiced, a result of countless experiences. He knows exactly what he's doing and how to bring himself to climax. If the toy in his hand were a real person, If it was you he would have you writhing under him within just three thrusts.

But you are not like him; your endurance is weak compared to his, like a small pool trying to withstand crashing waves. As your legs shake with the strain and a shattered gasp escapes your lips, you continue to stimulate yourself with determined fingers. Finally, your orgasm hits like a flood breaking through a dam, causing your walls to clench and release around nothing. Sweat beads on your skin as you take deep breaths, trying to calm down from the intense pleasure.

You take a moment to close your eyes and savor the intense pleasure coursing through your body. It was the most satisfying orgasm you’ve ever experienced, all thanks to a man whose face you’ve never seen, but whose dick is the only thing on your mind. A deep growl from the screen catches your attention and you open your eyes to watch. GD is still going strong, his stamina seemingly endless. His movements become erratic and uncoordinated as he nears his own climax. He no longer holds onto the toy, instead using his hands to support himself on the bed while he reaches orgasm. His moans are loud and intense, sending shivers down your spine as you feel them reverberate inside of you.

With a sudden burst of energy, he reaches his peak and releases thick ropes of cum inside the doll. The warm liquid fills it to the brim, and he can feel it pulsating against his skin. He pulls out, but the sensation lingers, and he continues to paint the outer skin with his spunk. The doll's previously pristine exterior is now marked by his seed and a pool of semen slowly seeping from the abused holes. His breaths come in ragged gasps as he finishes, though not quite completely spent from his intense encounter with the doll.

You couldn't look away, even as he continued with renewed energy after his earlier release. The arousing feeling in your gut resurfaced, but you were already drained, giving everything you had. You sit up and reach for the screen to close it for the night when a message from the community page catches your eye, posted by GD.

“Top Donator next stream gets a private show.”

♡! Thank you so much for all the love on my very first post! It really means alot and I couldn't be more grateful!

♡! Sorry if it seemed like Ghost wasn't talking much, I kind of see him as a more actions than words person for stuff like this! ૮₍ >﹏< ₎ა

˚ ✦ . Taglist (People who commented): @forgotten-lego-piece @lamebuddy @emmalandry

[sungodsfav]

just a stranger | t. fushiguro x f!reader

summary : honestly what did he expect was going to happen? you were a complete stranger to him three months ago. it’s not your fault he was an idiot for thinking any sane person would agree to getting married to anyone that soon.

genre : modern au, 18+, marriage of convenience, angst, fluff, smut, 

warnings : MDNI, fem!reader, dilf toji, hitman!toji, stalking, mentions of masturbation, more to be added as I keep writing

prologue wc : 2.3k

masterlist

He feels like a damn pig staring at his current search history which consists of, single successful women in my area, and single young successful women in my city, lastly hot single young rich successful women in my city. That’s when he sees your name and photo at the top of a list of today's most powerful women in their twenties. 

Toji blames Shiu for planting the idea in his head. What you need is to be under the protection of someone powerful. That way whoever left that threat will think again. He likes to blame Shiu even though it was Toji’s mind that jumped to the conclusion that a marriage was the only way. 

So he clicks on your wikipedia page to learn more about you since you were age appropriate, hot, and ridiculously wealthy. He reads that you currently own one hospital, two in state law firms, three out of state law firms, four kids sports parks, and five playgrounds. Toji also reads that you are about to make it six playgrounds as the sixth is expected to have a grand opening in a month from today. 

At first he doesn’t understand how you can have that amount of money and success at such a young age, that is until he sees that you’re a defense attorney. A really damn good one too. Toji digs further and clicks on a link showing him the long list of clients you have defended. Majority of it were a bunch of clan heads as well as some obnoxiously rich business men. You don’t take any pro bono cases, which explains how you afford to own everything. Toji actually knows all of the people you have defended from his line of work. Shit, you’ve even defended his boss, Sukuna, when all odds were against him. You would actually be perfect for him because this just means you are most likely protected by both sides. Since you are the only attorney that represents his kind of people. He decides in an instant that he needs to marry you, so that his son can fall under your umbrella of protection.

Toji Fushiguro begins to tail you for three weeks, and in those weeks he learns things about you. 

First, is that you are for sure single, always ordering for one when getting take out or dining alone. Second, is that you are always working, you spend ten hours in the office and then continue working when you get home. Third, you do not have a life outside of work, you just work, eat, bathe, and sleep. Fourth, you enjoy spending the little amount of free time you have watching trashy tv while giving yourself a fresh manicure and a pedicure always with a full wine glass. Fifth, you hated socializing and kept all interactions minimal and brief unless it was work related. Sixth, you have a favorite place for everything, and you are a regular for each said place. You like routines and you stick to them. Seventh, you owned your house which wasn’t flashy like he had expected, it was an updated modern three bedroom one story home with a two car garage. Lastly, eighth, which is his favorite fact, is that within your modern home you pleasure yourself at least four times a week.

He was able to see it all with the help of your wall length windows and his binoculars. Poor Toji just couldn’t help himself, but to pull out his hard cock to join you in the fun all the way in his car down the street every single time. He only became a widow a year ago and being a single father he didn’t have any time to do anything outside of work and Megumi. With all the information he gathered from you, he finally felt that it was time to approach you and put his plan into action.

Toji decides to keep it simple and slow with his approach with you, not wanting to blow his chance with you. He’s a gentleman of course, so his first interaction with you is opening the door to your favorite coffee shop for you. “Thank you”. Is all you say to him with a small nod of your head and a gentle smile directed to Toji. 

Your voice took him by surprise especially having heard you talk on the phone with colleagues and a few of your taped cases that were online. Your voice was always firm and overflowing with confidence, nothing like how you just sounded. Almost shy just now with a voice barely above a whisper. He stood behind you in line and began to realize just how much shorter you actually were despite wearing your tallest high heels. Barely reaching under his chin. 

He listened to you order your usual obnoxiously long complicated drink. You paid, then stepped aside to allow whoever was behind to order which happened to be Toji. “I’ll just take a hot green tea to go.” He hands the employee extra cash, “keep the change kid.” He stood a few steps behind you and watched as you went through your emails, deleting some, flagging others, and reading a few. 

Both the drinks were ready at the same time so Toji lets you grab your drink first by a second or two before he grabs his and rushes to hold the door open for you again. It isn’t until you both make it outside that Toji goes to engage in a conversation with you before you part ways.

He clears his throat to gain your attention. You don’t notice him at all and mindlessly adjust your scarf. “Excuse me-” You cut him off with your palm held up to pause him not even sparing him a glance. 

“No sorry, I don't have any spare change.” 

You turn and begin to walk toward your building as your heels click against the concrete and Toji can’t help but to smirk not expecting to be having to put in more effort in getting you to give in to him. 

The green eyed man tries again the next day, on your commute home. He sits next to you on the bench as you wait for the subway to arrive. Toji tries to speak to you but you end up pulling out giant headphones from your purse and putting them on. He can't help but to chuckle with a shake of his head at just how unapproachable you actually are and your efforts to keep it that way. It was extremely clear to him now that you were single by choice, not allowing him or even other men to approach you. 

That's how the rest of the week goes. You promptly put a stop to all of Toji’s advances without sparing him much of a glance his way. His favorite rejection from you was when he approached you in a pastry shop as you were scrolling on your phone and so Toji asked “can I get your number?” To which you responded without skipping a beat, “I don’t have a phone.” You didn’t even look at him while rejecting him. Because of you Toji realizes that he has absolutely no game when it comes to picking up women. All he really had going for him was his height, face, and god-like build. That was all he had going for him and that was all most women needed to give him their attention. He tells himself that he’s giving up and going to look for another potential bride if you continue to not acknowledge him. He’s desperate and willing to accept eye contact at this point as a sign to keep pursuing you.

He arrives at the grand opening of your sixth playground, Megumi clinging to his leg. Toji spots you quickly as you do interviews with the kids about the park. You look different than your usual appearance, long gone are your usual heels and slacks. Today you're in some straight jeans, a baggy sweatshirt, your hair neatly styled like always, but the expression on you is soft and kind. You smile encouragingly to the small kids.

“Hey brat, go talk to that lady over there.” Toji orders Megumi with a shake of his leg to get his son to release him. The two year old releases his fathers leg but just stares at the lady his dad pointed at before his attention drifts to the playground watching two other kids his age running and playing. Toji goes to squat to get to his son’s level but Megumi waddles away towards the two kids. He was only two years old so he couldn’t really blame his son for not being able to follow directions.

Toji lets out a frustrated groan before walking towards an empty bench to get a better view of you entertaining some random kids. You’re playful and happy interacting with them, some of the parents even coming up to you to give their appreciation for the new playground in their neighborhood. 

It isn’t until he hears the familiar cries of his boy that his worried eyes leave your form to search for his son. Said son is in tears as he looks at the spot Toji previously stood, great, Megumi probably assumes that he was abandoned. “Dumb kid”. Toji relaxes with a scoff and is about to go get his crybaby of a son until Megumi turns and waddles over to you. Your face immediately fills with concern at the sight of the heartbroken boy. Maybe my son wasn’t completely useless. Toji smirks as Megumi holds his arms up to you seeking comfort and you act quick by bending down and lifting him into your embrace. He can’t make out what you ask Megumi and he definitely can’t hear what his son responds with but Toji takes it as his time to step in and make a move. 

The closer he gets to you and his son he can hear that your soothing words are actually comforting Megumi. You rub his back as he rests his head against your shoulder and his tiny arms wrapped around your neck. Lucky bastard. “It’s okay baby, we’ll find your daddy, don’t worry.” You rock him gently in your arms as you look around the playground hoping to spot his father. You were a natural at this, the complete opposite of what Toji expects from someone so cold and out of reach.

Toji finally makes it in your line of sight and your movements falter, you physically grasp Megumi in a tighter hold, and shift your body so that your shoulder would shield the boy. As if you were attempting to protect him. “You trying to steal my boy?” Toji teases with a smirk stopping a few feet away not wanting to scare you into running away with his son. He isn’t an idiot, he knows that his appearance is intimidating. 

Your eyes narrow at Toji before looking down at the boy in your arms who has stopped crying a while ago and is now playing with your necklace. “He’s your son?” Your cold tone has returned and your eyes flutter back to look at Toji. “He came to me crying looking for you.” Your body goes back to a more relaxed state and you turn to completely face Toji, he watches with a smirk as your eyes slowly trail up his form. “Sweetheart, is this your daddy?” Your gentle soft tone seems to only be reserved for kids, Toji notes. 

Megumi lifts his head up to look over at Toji and he lets out a small sigh of relief. “Yea, my daddy.” However, sweet little Megumi goes back to resting his head against your chest. 

Toji lets out a deep chuckle. “Here let me grab him, your arms are probably getting tired.” Toji steps closer to you to grab his son but again your body reacts instinctively as you tighten your hold on the small boy and subtly lean away. 

“N-no! It’s okay, I’m okay holding him. I’ll let you know if I get tired.” 

He couldn’t help but to smirk at the sight. So all it took for you to speak to him was his little brat. “You have any kids?” Toji asks even though he already knew the answer, standing right next to you. He observes you and notes that your small smile that is directed to Megumi falls. 

With a shake of your head you look up at Toji. “No I don’t. How old is he?” Toji is slightly taken back at you actually giving him the time of day. There was a big chance that you still would have ignored him even while holding his kid like he expected.

“He’s two, just had a birthday recently. Honestly, it was sad since it was just us two, now I’m trying to take him to more parks so that he can make friends to hopefully make the next birthday not so lonely for him.” He easily lies to your face and your eyes soften a tiny bit. 

Your eyes land on his chest as Toji crosses his arms, he grins glad that you were a tiny bit attracted to him. Makes things slightly easier. “Oh, what happened to his mother? Nevermind that’s personal, you don’t need to answer that I’m sorry!” You rush out slightly embarrassed. 

He shrugs. “She passed away about a year ago.” 

Your lips drop to a sympathetic smile looking down at Megumi who is slowly falling asleep. “I’m sorry, that must have been tough for you both. If you ever need help with him, please let me know.” Your tone dripped with kindness that Toji couldn’t help but to take advantage of.  He chuckled with a glance down at the concrete before turning to look into your soft eyes before the scarred corner of his lips tilted up into a smirk.

“Ima need your number for that, doll.”

next

a/n : so this is just the prologue but I’m very excited to post more very soon! I’d love to know your thoughts and depending how well this chapter does I might make a taglist if you guys would be interested in that :)

[allisluv]

Could you write about reader x Finnick where they both met from being victors and were both sold by the Capitol and reader is having nightmares about it so he comforts her

bluffs.

pairing: finnick o'dair x fem!victor!reader

content warnings: pre-established relationship, reader is sold into prostitution, brief mentions of dissociation, shame, brief mention of burning hot showers, nightmares, anxiety attacks. kind of a backstory before we get into the actual nightmare. kind of ptsd. this one is very angsty y'all. if there's anything else you think should be added please let me know!

word count: 0.8k

Once that final canon went off and you were announced as the winner of the Hunger Games, you thought it was finally over— until President Snow called you into his office the next morning and gave you the ultimatum that he had given many tributes before you; be sold into sex-work, or watch everyone you loved be led like animals to the slaughter.

You may have been many things, but you were not stupid.

You prided yourself on being able to tell when someone was bluffing.

And President Snow was as serious as they came.

Your first client was the worst; the pain when you shifted the wrong way, the overwhelming feeling of shame, the ache in your tired bones from being propped in the one position for too long. You had spent three hours in the shower that night in an effort to get the feeling of their hands off your body.

It didn’t work.

It never did— a lesson your red raw skin had had to learn the hard way.

Still, by the time your sixth ‘session’ rolled around, you had found a way to distance yourself from it. A way to almost pull yourself out of your body until it was all over.

Was it the healthiest coping mechanism? Absoloutely not. But it worked. And that was all you had the mental capacity to care about in that moment of time.

Finnick, your boyfriend, found out around client number ten, when you came home with hickeys so large that even your highest turtleneck struggled to conceal them.

His first thought, as selfish as it sounded, was that you were cheating on him. But then you winced when he touched your shoulder, both in pain and in fear, and it clicked into place for him.

You didn’t say anything.

He didn’t ask.

He simply lead you to the bathroom, assisted you in stripping out of your clothes, and ran you a bath. He assessed the damage to your body before helping you into the tub and holding your hand as you sank back into the soapy water. You sobbed and he climbed into the bathtub, still clad in his vest top and his boxers.

He held you as he cried and when you had no more tears left, he wrapped you in a warm, soft towel and tenderly dried you off. He applied the best creams to the bruises, hickeys and scrapes on your body, before coaxing you to lie down hso he could spoon you from behind.

Neither of you talk for a while. He simply holds you as you stare ahead, a distant look in your eyes that he knows far too well. Eventually, you drift off as he runs his fingers through your locks of hair.

You don’t know how long you sleep for, but you eventually wake with a scream lodged in the back of your throat and tears streaming freely down your face. You sit up, holding your chest with one hand and clutching onto Finnick’s vest top with your other.

Your skin is slick with a sheen of sweat as Finnick looks at you with an understanding crease in his brows. Your eyes dart around, wide and doe-like as you attempt to take in as much of your surroundings as possible.

“It’s just me, angel,” Finnick reassures. “It’s just me. You’re not there, okay? It was just a nightmare. It wasn’t real.” He smooths the pad of his thumb over your cheekbone. “You’re okay,” he repeats, voice soothing and sugary sweet. “Do you know who I am?”

You nod and he coaxes you into answering with a small smile. “Finn.” You answer, but your voice sounds foreign and cracked, even to your own ears.

“Good. That’s good, angel. Do you know where you are?”

You chance a look around the room just to make sure you’re right. “Home,” you croak out.

Finnick smiles gently. “Good job. You’re doing so well. Why don’t you lie back down for a minute, angel?” He suggests.

You’re hesitant. Bad things tend to happen when you lie down. “I’m not sleepy.”

“I know, angel. I know you’re not sleepy anymore. You don’t have to be. We can just lie here and cuddle for a while until you come back to me fully, okay? Are you comfortable with that, or do you not want to be touched?”

You hesitate. The truth is, you don’t know, but you decide to give it a shot, anyway. What’s the harm in trying? “Can we cuddle?”

Finnick nods, and gentle pulls you closer so that your head is resting above his chest, where you can hear the steady thump, thump, thump, of his heart beating. He makes sure to keep his grip loose enough so that it doesn’t feel constricting and you can pull away if you need to. He waits for a minute or two before asking, “Do you want to talk about it?” You shake your head quickly and he can feel your chest starting to heave with shallow breaths again. Hes quick to soothe you with soft caresses and gentle words. “That’s okay, angel. We don’t have to. We can just lie here, alright? It’s okay. I’m right here.” He presses his lips to your forehead in a feather-light kiss. “I’m right here.”

[httpiastri]

yours – op81

love is tough, but oscar makes it easy.

genre: fluff, angst/comfort

pairing: oscar piastri x reader

warnings: mentions of anxiety and commitment issues

author's note: hello hello! this is based on this song that i first heard at my sixth grade graduation. hope you enjoy. 💓

f1 masterlist

‎‎‎ ‎‎‎ ‎‎

"do you really have to go?"

oscar's voice echoes from inside your bedroom all the way out to where you're standing in the hallway. you shoot one last glance at yourself in the mirror before stepping into your heels, letting them click against the floor as you walk back to the entrance of the room your boyfriend is in. he's staring up at you with his puppy-like eyes, his back resting against the headboard and his lower body covered by the duvet.

you nod, a small pout appearing on your lips. "i really do. attendance at the seminar is mandatory," you hum, leaning against the door frame.

"does your professor not care that your darling finally has a day off and needs cuddles?" he sighs, a playful frown on his face.

"unfortunately not. however," you start, walking over to him and sitting on the edge of the bed. "i'll be back in just a few hours. and then, i'll cuddle you so much that you'll get through next week without any cuddles at all."

oscar shakes his head. "not possible. there's not enough time in the world for that." you roll your eyes and stick your tongue out at him. "i think i'll need some kisses to survive until you get back, though."

you chuckle, leaning forward and letting your lips brush against his. your hand moves down to his neck, your thumb drawing little circles into the skin, before your fingers pull softly on his lowest strands of hair. his own hands land on your hips, lifting you up and into his lap, his sudden actions drawing out a small yelp from you. when you part from the kiss, you use your free hand to squish his cheeks together.

"you scared me," you scold, giving his cheeks one last squeeze before using the hand to adjust your skirt.

but oscar doesn't say anything. when you look up at him again, you find his big eyes staring right into yours, contentment written on his face. you raise an eyebrow at him, but he only smiles back. "you know what?" he asks, and you shake your head. "i love you."

although it's not the first time he's uttered those words to you, his words still bring a slight blush to your cheeks. but no matter how much you'd like to, you don't answer him.

you wish you could say something; that you loved him too, that you're his and only his, or that you've never felt this strongly for anyone before. but you just can't. you're so scared of being vulnerable – not just with him, but in general – and you're so scared to admit that you're falling for him.

because falling for him means that losing him will hurt way worse.

the weight of your unspoken emotions lingers in the air, leaving a bittersweet tension between you. in the silence that follows his words, your eyes never look away from his, and you hope he can decipher the unspoken words in your gaze – just like he usually can. maybe one day, courage will grant you the ability to vocalize what your heart truly feels. but for now, it's like your mouth is taped shut.

"you don't have to say anything, you know," oscar says, interrupting your train of thought.

he understands. he always does.

now it's his time to caress your cheek with one of his hands. a smile spreads across your lips and you lean forward to hug him, burying your face in the crook of his neck. he squeezes you close, hoping you'll feel the warmth and comfort he's trying to send your way.

"i'll hury out of class as soon as it ends," you tell him, giving his lips one last peck before standing up from the bed.

his touch lingers on your skin when you make your way to the door. "i'll be counting the minutes until you're back," he whispers, his voice filled with a mix of longing and affection. with one last glance over your shoulder, you meet oscar's gaze, finding solace in the warmth of his brown eyes. and when you step out into the hallway, you leave the comfort of his embrace behind but continue carrying his love with you.

you already can't wait to be back in his arms.

‎‎‎‎ ‎‎‎

working the late shift sucks.

you hate getting home late, you hate having no time to study and being too tired to even cook a light meal. and tonight, work has been particularly hard.

your boss had been in a bad mood, which resulted in everyone else suffering, too. and besides making your workplace feel like a living hell, she also gave you some extra paperwork to finish at home.

so, to say that you are exhausted when you finally enter the front door of your apartment tonight is an understatement.

you kick off your shoes and throw your coat into the wardrobe with a heavy sigh. as you're stomping off to your bedroom, you gather your last drops of energy to make it all the way bed, and you're just about to turn the lights on in your bedroom when something catches your eye.

oscar is lying in your bed, his head resting atop your pillow as soft snores pass through his lips. as your eyes begin to wander through the room, you notice that the bedside lamp is turned on, a sticky note pressed to it. you make your way towards it, steps much softer than before, hoping to let the sleeping beauty stay asleep. when you reach the bed, you pick up the piece of paper, holding it up to your face.

‎‎ ‎‎

hey baby,

i know you're working late and i wasn't sure if you ate before or not, so i made dinner for you. it's in the fridge. i hope you had a good day, and if not, wake me up if you want to talk about it. or wake me up if you want to just exist and not talk. anything is fine by me.

love,

oscar.

‎‎ ‎‎

by his name sits a small, uneven heart, making the corners of your mouth pull upwards. you put down the note again and turn off the lamp before lifting the duvet, lying down and scooting close to him. with a soft sigh, you rest your head on his chest and drape an arm across his body.

you know oscar means a lot to you, and you know you want nothing but to be with him. but, just the thought of discovering exactly how much he means to you frightens you.

every little action and every single word of his makes you fall deeper for him. every day, your feelings grow stronger. now, it's just about finding strength in yourself to talk to him about it.

"i..." you start, voice as silent as you can possibly make it. "i think... i think i'm ready for love."

oscar's eyes remain closed, his breathing still slow and heavy, but one of his arms instinctively wraps across your lower back and squeezes you close. it's like a silent, unconscious message that he understands, and your heart almost bursts out of your chest.

‎‎ ‎‎

the room is almost completely dark, the only source of light being the thin streak from the full moon on the night sky passing through the curtains. the moon and the stars are all reflected in the tears falling down your cheeks, the ones that had left your eyes before you had even noticed that you were crying.

your body is heavy, like weights are pulling you down into the mattress, but you need to sit up. you need to do something, anything.

you press your hands into the bed, lifting yourself up to a sitting position. you pull your legs up to your body, hugging them tightly as you exhale a light sob. closing your eyes and pushing the palms of your hands to your eyelids, you try your best to clear your mind from the scenes of your nightmare. but they are replaying themselves over and over, and you stand no chance. they're clouding your thoughts, they're taking over, they're too much, you're drowning in them-

suddenly, there's a rustle next to you in bed, and you jump. opening your eyes, you turn to the side – only to instantly realize that there's no reason to be scared when you see oscar's eyes blinking up at you.

"love?" he whispers, one of his hands helping him sit up while the other tries to rub some sleep out of his eyes. "are you crying? what's wrong?"

you can't speak. as you look up at him, the dream you'd just dreamt starts feeling so very real again, and there's a sharp pain in your chest. breathing is getting harder, and for every breath you try to take, the pressure in your chest increases. the tears won't stop spilling from your cheeks down onto the bed.

"hey, you need to breathe." he wipes away a couple of tears with his thumb, making sure to make his own breathing louder for you to follow him. it takes a few moments, but under his soft touch you always feel like you can relax and eventually, you can breathe almost normally again. "please talk to me, sweetheart. what's wrong?"

you look up at him, into his worried eyes, but regret it instantly and look away again. "i..." your eyes roam across the room, never focusing or staying on anything. "i had a bad dream."

oscar remains quiet, not sure what to say. he nods slowly.

"i... thought i'd lost you..." you say under your breath, so low that he doesn't hear you.

"what was that?"

you sigh. "i dreamed that i lost you. that you weren't here for me anymore, that-" you halt, unsure whether or not to keep going. you pull a hand through your hair, finally looking back at him. "that you didn't love me anymore."

he nods once again. "and that made you feel like this?"

you sniffle and dry some of your tears from your eyes with the blanket. "yeah." you shrug. "i don't know, i just... want to be your everything." closing your eyes again, you cover your face in your hands. "god, i'm falling apart."

the worst part about the dream was the realism of it. you've got a feeling that it's a reflection of the near future, and you loathe the thought of accidentally forcing oscar to stay with you. you don't want him to feel like he can't leave you, as you're sure it's hard for him to stay with someone who doesn't give as much love as he does. you just don't want to be a burden, but your mind keeps telling you that you are just that – and that this will be the end of you two.

but without warning, oscar takes a hold of your waist, pulling you into his lap and embracing you tightly. "feeling like this doesn't mean you're falling apart," he says. "and i promise you," he pulls away just enough for him to be able to look at your face properly. "you are my everything. and more."

you answer with a smile, burying your face in his neck. "i'm yours."

"what was that?" he teases.

you lean up to give his lips a chaste kiss before resting your forehead against his. "i'm yours."

and suddenly, the room doesn't seem as dark anymore.

‎‎ ‎‎

"honey, i'm home!" you holler before closing the front door behind you, stepping out of your shoes and hanging up your coat in the wardrobe. you don't need to hear your boyfriend's answer to know that he's still in your bedroom. or, more specifically, cuddled up in your sheets.

waddling into the room, you find him lying on his stomach, his laptop propped up in front of him. "i think i found a good movie," he cheers, eyes moving up to where you're standing by the doorway.

"they didn't have your favorite chocolate croissant, so," you begin, holding up the paper bag from the bakery. "i got three other kinds, just to make sure you like at least one."

"you didn't have to do that."

you smile and sit down next to him on the bed, laying down the bag by the computer before taking oscar's face into your hands. "you're the best, you deserve it." you lean down to give him a quick kiss before looking at the computer. "what movie is it?"

"it's called..." he quickly glances at the laptop's screen. "grease?"

your mouth flies open. "you haven't seen grease?!" he shakes his head quickly, and your surprised look turns into a grin. "you dork..." you ruffle his hair with both of your hands. "it's really good, let's watch it!"

he doesn't say anything back; he merely looks at you, a huge smile on his lips as his eyes wander across your face. you chuckle.

"what is it?"

"nothing," he says, reaching up with one hand to brush a few strands of your hair out of your face. "i just love you so much."

you smile back at him, leaning down to kiss him yet again. "but not as much as i love you."

there it was. those three words, the ones you'd been so afraid of, the meaning behind them that had worried you so much – and here you are, saying them like it's the easiest thing in the world.

oscar tries to play it cool, but on the inside, he's barely even believing his ears. "are you sure?" he asks, and you nod immediately.

"i love you." one more kiss. "i love you." one more. "i love you."

"get down here so i can cuddle you already," he says, his hand impatiently patting the space next to him on the bed. how could you ever say no to that?

[grimmsbride]

❛Stuck to the screen, your words repeating. ❜ ⸺ Kamo Choso

【⠀♱⠀】 SYNOPSIS. after a long night of gaming, choso helps you fall asleep with his.. soothing voice.

【⠀♱⠀】 WARNINGS. ooc choso | soft dom! choso | phone [more like voice chat] sex | not public sex but there was the threat of reader’s friends joining since it’s a public vc | porn no plot | reader & choso are gamers | mutual pining | mutual masterubation | overuse of pet names | choso is a tease | choso uses “mama” idc idc, it fits him [TO ME] | etc. if i forgot something let me know.

【⠀♱⠀】 AUTHOR’S NOTE. it’s the way i’m thinking about other things except piv sex, which is very exciting cause the shit got repetitive on my other acc. PLEASE EXCUSE ANY GRAMMAR MISTAKES.

People that claimed gaming was a perfect past time were either naive or just plain stupid. How could one find the competitive, and nerve wracking hobby peaceful? There was always something going wrong. Whether having an awful teammate,a a bad day, or even— something as silly as bad luck.

Personally you didn’t love video games. You had no plans of getting shouted at by grown men over a digital creation, which stats didn’t affect you in real life. But.. as your friends usually did, they lured you into gaming.

Quickly too, giving you tips and tricks to assure you didn’t drag the rest of them down. And as much as you hated to admit it, you actually enjoyed it. Clicking with the rest of your friends, especially a man around your age named Kamo Choso.

During group meet ups you and him spoke pleasantly on just about everything. Life, his siblings, shared music interest.. you two clicked deeper then you have with anyone else.

An innocent connection you felt were developing into feelings..

Manicured fingers slammed into the keyboard rested on the desk, whilst soft swears escaped your lips. You blinked at the bright screen, sighing heavily the moment defeat in bold red letters flashed across it.

“This is our fifth loss in a row..” You moaned in annoyance, leaning back in your chair; adjusting the black headset you wore carefully. A soft chuckle came from the other line, taking you away from your annoyed thoughts.

“You suck when you’re tired..”

“I’m not tired, Choso.” You countered quickly, rolling your eyes the moment another chuckle came from the man. You breathed softly, clicking off the game screen and switching over to discord. Your eyes traced the computer for a moment.

Choso and you were the only ones currently awake or rather currently in the voice chat, and have been for the past hour and thirty-minutes. You hadn’t meant to play this long, however you sometimes got carried away.

You heard shuffling on the other side of the headset, causing you to gently grab your mic. “Are you going to sleep?”

“Are you?” Choso asked in a soft hum.

Your lips twisted in uncertainty, thinking over your options. The two of you could play another round and risk losing for the sixth time— or maybe try another game.. and still lose. Either one didn’t seem like good choices, but, you didn’t want to get off the chat with Choso; just yet.

So, with a soft hum you shook your head before replying with a quick “No,” when you realized he couldn’t see.

The man gave a curt sound, one that was surely of confusion. “Then.. do you want to go another round?”

“No..” You sighed, rising from your chair to waltz over to your bed. You landed upon the cushiony mattress harshly, rolling onto your back and laying in a starfish position. “You should read me a bedtime story or something.”

“I thought you weren’t tired?”

You could practically hear the smirk in his words, causing your lips to twitch— attempting to force down a smile. You rolled to your side, closing your eyes. “I’m not,” You said defensively, adjusting yourself into a comfortable position on the bed. “—but I do need to go to sleep, and you have a soothing voice.”

For a moment you couldn’t hear a thing, only your own breathing— making you worry the voice chat had lagged out. But as quickly as those thoughts came they left even quicker, given the man was replying with a simple;

“Yeah?”

You smiled slowly, smoothing your cheek into the soft pillow. “Yeah..”

Choso paused for a moment before uttering, “Hm.. I’m sure you just have a voice kink.”

Your eyes opened wide at his statement, eyebrows pinched close as a warmth spread across you. Did.. did he just read you like a book? Was the single thought in your mind, causing you to slowly sit up to think it over.

And yet, he didn’t give you that moment, interjecting before you could even think to reply; “What, did I hit it right on the mark? I was only joking..”

You’ve talked to Choso many times to know when he was joking or not— plus you weren’t an idiot, he was being dead serious.

So, you slowly cleared your throat, scooting back to rest against your headboard. “No, what even makes you think that?” You questioned, lying straight through your teeth. You bit back a grin the moment you heard an airy chuckle, ignoring how such a sound caused shivers to dance down your spine.

“It’s obvious. Every single time I talk to you, you have this same look in your eyes.” He hummed into your ear, causing your eyes to flutter shut. “Always listening, far too intently.. Eyes focused completely on my voice rather then my words. No wonder you always say huh, whenever we speak.”

Read after read— Choso wasn’t giving you air to breathe with these completely correct accusations. It wasn’t enough you were physically attracted to the man, no; you had to be head over heels for his voice too.

You opened your mouth to speak, only for Choso to cut in;

“Deny it, and I won’t help you fall asleep tonight..”

Your eyebrows rose, teeth biting the inside of your cheek as you fiddled with your pajamas. “What, you’re gonna read me a story after all?”

“Nah, I was thinking of something else,” His breath was airy, and you swore you could hear the rustling of fabric.

Such a thought caused the heat to pool down to your belly, thighs pushing together as excitement began to sprout. “..Thinking of what?”

Instead of answering you the man gave a soft, “Lie on your back.”

That same heat swept over you, almost daring to question him again but deciding against it. Instead, you were quickly sliding to you lay on your back; hand spreading across the sliver of stomach exposed from your rising shirt.

“I’m.. on my back.” You spoke, nibbling on lip your as your fingers absentmindly traced patterns upon your skin. Your eyes fluttered shut, head rolling back onto the pillow as anticipation welled in your stomach.

“Take your pants off,” Choso spoke again, before quickly adding, “—just your pants.”

You didn’t know whether to continue to be excited or annoyed he was dragging the obvious out— yet, you obeyed, again. Your thumbs hooked onto the elastic of your bottoms, tugging them down your body and kicking them to the edge of your bed. You laid there half-bare, waiting so impatiently for his next request.

“Now.. touch yourself.”

Your eyebrows pinched close for a moment, adjusting your position as your legs rose. “Won’t I need to take my panties off?” You asked playfully, fingers sliding under the fabric for a moment before his curt response caused your hand to retract;

“I never said to take them off. I only said to touch yourself.”

You hissed softly, fiddling with the waistband of your undergarments for a split second. You could just push them down now.. there was no way he could tell, right? It was only voice chat.

But, for some stupid reason.. You decided to listen, hand slithering between your legs to slowly stroke your covered folds through the thin fabric. The motions continued as the pleasure set in, your legs widening and soft breaths escaping.

From the other side you could hear Choso’s breathing become shallow with even more rustling following. You could just imagine it; him on his back, hair a mess from laying down and the headset, whilst his strong hand was slowly stroking himself through his boxers.

You wondered if he was leaking already; how there might be a wet spot slowly forming, darkening the fabric. Such a thought had your thighs clenching, finger delicately finding your bud below your panties.

The action caused your head to tilt back, lips parting as an audible gasp escaped.

“Oh, you sound so pretty, princess. So, so pretty..”

You whined softly at his words, feeling far more aroused despite the covered pleasure. Your other hand rose to slink under your shirt, grabbing ahold of your breast to roll your thumb on your slowly erecting nipple. The pleasure was increasing by now, yet still not enough— causing your frustration to build.

“Choso, please..”

“What, what’s wrong?” His voice was taunting and low, clearly aware of what you were practically begging for. “Don’t tell me you wanna take your panties off already?.. So impatient, sweetheart.”

Choso’s words were going straight to your pussy, wetting up the lacey fabric even more. Your hips rose to meet your hand, “Choso, fuck.. Just please, I need to take them off.”

He thought it over for far too long, even humming just to irritate you further. Though, you also heard more rustling and his bed.

Fuck.. how you wished you could see what was happening right now.

“Take ‘em off.”

You didn’t need to be told twice, practically shoving off the garment as if they had personally offended you. You then wasted no time in spreading your legs wide, hand falling between them to slowly separate your damp folds. There, your middle finger reached out; swiping across your swelling bud for a split moment— before beginning small, tight circles on it.

With nothing left to restraint you, your sounds were more vocal now — airy and sweet— driving right into Choso’s awaiting ears. This caused the man to breathe heavily right into the mic, followed by the sounds of wetness.

A flush of warmth escaped as the pleasure continued, moans waning as your combined actions dawned on you suddenly. Here you were, having voice chat sex with a friend, in a chat where just about anyone else could join— at any time. Sure, it was currently three in the morning but the threat still loomed over your head.

It seemed the man had sensed your nervousness given his sudden; “It’s only us on here, mama.. use that pretty voice, let me hear you while you fuck yourself.”

Just from his voice and the vulgarity you were keening, back arching as a finger slowly pushed into your awaiting entrance. The moment you adjusted you were curling the digit, moaning out as your stomach stirred with pleasure.

Choso was praising you at this point, “That’s it, good girl.. Keep playing with yourself,” He spoke, breath rushed with soft groans interrupting. His hand was tight around his throbbing length, thumb swiping at the slit and smoothing his pre-cum across his dick. “Bet your pretending your fingers are mine, huh?” A soft chuckle escaped him— “Or maybe my tongue?.. Or maybe even my dick?”

You swore at his words, a second finger pushing in as your thumb began to rub harsh circles on your clit. “Ch—Choso, fuck..!” You pinched your nipple between your fingers, legs threatening to close as your throat nearly became raw from your voice.

You were close, pussy throbbing around your fingers as arousal leaked down them. Your pace quickened, soft sounds surrounding the room and serving as background noise to the sweetest moans escaping your wet lips.

If only you could see Choso; his eyes rolling back, hips rising into his hand and pretending it was you. His groans were deep, bordering on whimpers each time his hand slipped up to his sensitive tip. He was close too, hissing as his eyelids fluttered shut.

“Come with me, mama.. wanna hear you, fu-fuck.. lemme hear you.” Choso spoke on shaky breath, tensing as his orgasm drew.

You whimpered into the mic, eyebrows pinched close as your fingers never stopped it’s thrusts. Far too quickly you were creaming, staining your skin with your essence which trickled down your taint to your soft blankets. During this you heard a sharp gasp, warmth covering your body and enjoying the soft sounds that followed.

You simply laid there, heavy breathing coinciding with Choso’s own. Your fingers slowly withdrew from between your legs, slick smoothing across your thighs.

“You sleepy now?”

You bit your cheek, “No. No I’m not.”

“Good, I’m coming over in te— five minutes.” Choso spoke rather quickly, before the familiar sound of the voice chat ending entered your ears.

COMMENTS & REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED <3

[planetkiimchi]

sixth time's the charm | w.jh

no. 1 of my 100 followers event (requested)

featuring: coworker!jun x gn!reader

word count: 8832 words

summary — your coworker jun is naturally friendly and a little chaotic, but he also mistakenly thinks you like his crush. this love rivalry persists despite the two of you being friends, at least until he realises that the one he likes is you.

author’s note: thank you to @fairyhaos for beta-ing this, your comments are so appreciated. especially knowing now that you have such high standards for fics, i’m so honoured to receive any sort of compliment from you <3 thank you ara for the request and i hope you enjoy!

Your first day of work was in January, at the tail end of winter. People were trading their thick winter coats for thinner wool sweaters and cotton hoodies, slowly switching back to sneakers instead of the chunky boots they donned in the winter.

The temperature was still cold in the mornings, especially when people were heading to work. The streets were filled with people walking briskly, as staying idle for too long would let the chill seep into one’s bones.

You were no different, a long coat wrapped tightly around your work attire, the most formal you could get. You cracked your knuckles nervously as you came to a hesitant stop in front of an office building, indistinguishable from the surrounding buildings save for the large “JH Corporations” displayed across the front.

Inhaling deeply, you stepped inside.

You were greeted by the warm air of the heated building, and you took in your surroundings as subtly as you could, taking small steps towards the reception desk while your gaze wandered about.

Everyone there seemed to be in a hurry, impatiently bustling past with briefcases, holding onto their laptop cases and thick folders. The constant clicking sound of high heels against the floor seemed to match your heart rate, going tap-tap-tap-tap-tap.

You made your way over to the reception desk.

“Good morning!” A cheery voice broke your train of thought, interrupting your anxiously racing thoughts and preventing you from spiralling.

Turning around to face the owner of the voice, you came face to face with a familiar face.

“Wen Junhui?”

The man in question grinned back at you. “Hi!”

So it was him. Junhui—”Call me Jun,” he’d said—had been there at your job interview, which had been done in a group, so both of you were probably starting at a similar level. Logically speaking, that day should also be his first day at work. However, unlike you, he looked a lot more at ease in this large building.

“Excuse me?” The receptionist tried to get your attention, and you blinked quickly before nodding.

“Yes, hi.”

You gave her your name and waited as she searched for your employee pass, before handing it to you, along with directions on how to get to your level.

You thanked her and turned to leave.

“I’m going to level three too, would you like me to show you there?”

Your heart, which had been beating painfully fast ever since you stepped foot into the building, slowed to a reasonable pace as you forced yourself to take a deep breath. Then, turning to face Jun, you smiled slightly.

“That would be great.”

Jun didn’t shut up the entire way to your desk. He looked tidy and well-kept, brown hair parted slightly off-centre, a tie around his neck. His smart black shoes clicked against the floor as he walked, and you noticed his fingernails were trimmed when he reached out to press the lift button.

“Y/n, right?” You nodded absently as Jun talked about this job, how his boss was rather friendly and how excited he was to be able to work in this team setting. Everyone was welcoming so far, and no one had belittled him as of yet.

During the elevator ride, you didn’t manage to get a single word in. Jun just kept on talking, somehow finding ways to fill the silence without you having to say a single thing. When he finally took a breath, you seized the opportunity to ask, “When did you start?”

“Last week! They asked me to come at the beginning of the new year, but I requested to start a week earlier instead, just after the winter solstice, so I could get acquainted a little earlier.”

Oh. That made sense. You briefly wondered why you hadn’t thought to do that yourself, stepping out of the elevator as the door opened onto the third floor.

You followed Jun through what felt like a winding maze of desks, all grey with some attempts at personalisation in the form of white mugs with “I ❤️ DAD” and “This is my fifth cup of coffee” printed across them, and cushions propped up on chairs for comfort.

“... And here’s your desk! Mine’s right across, so you can come over and ask me for help at any time. Just wave, and I’ll come over!” Jun smiled at you expectantly.

“Thanks?” you replied hesitantly.

“No problem!”

Smiling cheerily at you, Jun walked over and took a seat at his desk.

Breathe. You inhaled deeply, taking in your surroundings once more. This time, it felt a lot less scary. Each team had a semi-secluded area, with partitions sectioning off different teams, and your section was a little quiet but very conducive for working in.

The other people in the office had looked up briefly when you walked in, disrupted by Jun’s voice, waving politely at you before looking back down at their computers.

It didn’t seem like much, but you weren’t quite sure what you had been expecting in the first place. Setting your things down, you went over to find your team manager so you could officially start working.

—

Time passed too quickly. Soon enough, the project that the team had just undertaken was already almost half completed, and your working hours grew longer as the daylight stretched longer as well.

The sun set just after six, and you often got off work before then, so you would be home in time for dinner. Upon graduating from university, one of the first things you’d done was rent a house on the outskirts of the central business district.

It wasn’t the cheapest option, but luck was on your side, and the marketing job you had secured was enough to pay your rent.

Life wasn’t particularly luxurious; your flat was small and your meals were simple, but it was comfortable enough. On top of that, your transport fees were lower, since the office was located very close to where you lived.

That day, you were staying in the office a bit longer, staring blankly at the design drawn up on your computer and trying to figure out exactly what was off about it.

There was something about the design that didn’t work, and you intuitively knew that it had to do with the layout and the contrast in the colours of the background and the elements, but you couldn’t put your finger on what it was.

As the graphic designer on the marketing team, your workload was manageable, so this was your first time staying in the office past your stipulated working hours.

You rolled your neck around, hearing it crack, and fought the urge to rub your eyes. You turned the computer off and got up from your seat to take a bathroom break.

When you returned, there was a box of fried rice next to your keyboard.

Picking the box up, you looked around the section to see who had gotten the food. There were three people in the team still present; besides you and Jun, Yueyue was also working overtime that evening.

Yueyue had a reusable lunchbox by her side, and she took a mouthful of noodles into her mouth every once in a while, in between typing furiously on her keyboard.

Her clicks and the sound of her slurping the noodles were the only things disrupting the silence.

Jun was sitting directly opposite you, and he too had an open lunchbox beside him, along with a spoon, and he shovelled rice into his mouth every ten seconds or so. It was a bit strange that both of them had brought food from home, and yet there was takeout on your desk. It was especially strange because you knew you hadn’t ordered it.

As if sensing your confusion—or perhaps due to the fact that you had been standing in front of him for a good few minutes—Jun looked up.

He raised an eyebrow at you. “Are you planning to sit down soon? You’re kind of putting me off by just standing there.”

Oh. Embarrassed, you hurriedly sat down, but not before leaning over and asking, “Do you know who bought this?”, pointing at your own food.

“I did.” He looked back at his screen for a few moments, typed something out quickly, then moved his chair over so his view of you was no longer blocked by the screen.

“Minghao usually buys us food when we work overtime, but his mother’s health isn’t the best, so he took leave today to visit her in the hospital. Yueyue brings her own food, and I’ve started that habit too, but I noticed you hadn’t eaten so I got you something. I hope you don’t mind?”

You shook your head quickly. “No, I don’t. Thanks. I’ll pay you back, how much was it?”

Jun reached over to push your phone away. “It’s on me. Minghao even sent me money earlier on to make sure everyone in the team was fed, look.”

He showed you his screen, as if he felt the need to prove it to you, and you scanned Minghao’s texts.

Minghao (Team Manager): Make sure everyone eats well. Minghao (Team Manager): Tell them to go home before 7, it’s dark and cold outside, don’t want anyone falling sick. Minghao (Team Manager): Oh, also, tell Y/n to send me the draft of the advertisement by tonight. Minghao (Team Manager): Thanks.

“Say thank you to Minghao for me.”

Jun shrugged and put his phone away, “Already did.”

As you ate the fried rice, wrist cramping up from drawing the animations for the advertisement on your tablet, your heart felt extremely warm.

—

Becoming more comfortable with the members in your team also translated to becoming careless, it seemed.

One fine spring day, you awoke at eight-thirty to the sound of your ringtone blaring obnoxiously loudly in your ear.

"Please pick up, please pick up–"

"Hello?" you mumbled, voice a little raspy.

"Y/n! We have a meeting in an hour, where are you?"

Shit. You'd completely forgotten to set your alarm for that morning, having turned it off the day before for the Qingming Festival. You hadn't wanted it to ring while you were visiting the cemetery, which coincided with the time you normally woke up at.

To top it all off, after the long day, you'd had to take a long ride back to your flat from your hometown, which was a long way from Beijing.

You must have been so tired that night that you had forgotten to set your alarm.

"I'm still at home, is Minghao there?"

"Yes, and he's getting ready for the meeting already. He looks a bit pissed, you might want to hurry."

"Shit, yeah, okay. If he starts the meeting early, help me stall or come up with an excuse," you said.

Jun muttered something in acknowledgement.

"I'll hang up first, I've got to get ready and hopefully I'll reach on time."

"Hurry!" was the last word you heard Jun say before you hung up the call.

By some miracle, you ended up reaching the office 5 minutes before the meeting, wisps of hair falling into your eyes. You irritatedly pushed them away, taking the time to catch your breath as you turned your laptop on and tried to pull up your documents.

"Come into the meeting room now," Minghao ordered, and the team filed into the meeting room and took their respective seats.

You glared at the loading screen on your laptop, willing it to work more quickly. As Minghao said something about following the timeline and how the team was lagging behind and the client was beginning to get impatient, you did your best to listen and pull up the designs you'd done over the past couple of weeks.

However, luck was not on your side, because Minghao called upon you to present what you had done the moment he finished speaking.

You stood up hesitantly, eyes scanning your screen in a hurry, breathing still a little uneven. “Well…”

Jun let out a soft snort. You stole a glance at him, just in time to see him rolling his eyes before angling his laptop screen towards you.

“This is our advertisement video.”

Minghao took your cue to start playing the video, and you watched as your hard work came to life before your eyes. You’d watched it so many times, rewinding the animations over and over again until it was perfect, that it was no longer shocking to you how smooth the transitions were.

But seeing the video play in its entirety, not stopping every two seconds for you to fix something, you realised that you’d actually done well.

As the video came to an end, you launched into your spiel behind the technical aspect of the design elements, and Jun nodded attentively from his seat. Satisfied with your presentation, Minghao went on to the next person.

“Junhui, since you’re already prepared, tell us about the rest of the campaign and how you plan to manage the small budget we’re working with for this project.”

When Jun finished, Minghao raised an eyebrow, impressed. “Not bad, the two of you are a real match. Always good at thinking on your feet,” he said softly, just loud enough for the two of you to hear.

“A good match?” Jun fought to keep his volume down.

“I’m just saying, you’ve never called me when I was late.”

“Hao, when have you ever arrived any later than 8.30am?”

“It’s just a comparison.”

“I-” Jun threw his hands up in the air, exasperated. “We’ll talk about this later.”

Minghao shrugged and pointed at Jing Xuan, motioning for her to go next. You squinted at your team manager, then back at Jun, trying to figure out what their exchange could possibly have meant.

Yueyue went last, looking for you for help when she couldn’t recall the right word in Mandarin, and a couple of times you had to correct her pronunciation softly. She took it all in her stride, successfully completing her presentation of the segment she was in charge of.

Minghao ended the meeting with a short briefing on the development of the project and the client’s requirements, and gave updated instructions to each individual on the team.

Once he had finished speaking, the meeting was adjourned. Without hesitation, Jun grabbed Minghao’s hand and all but dragged him out of the meeting room, muttering something that sounded like “We seriously need to talk” as he strode away.

Curious, you did your best to subtly close your laptop and place it on your desk, before walking to the coffee lounge in what you hoped was an innocuous manner and casually inching closer towards the duo.

They were speaking in hushed tones, Jun’s brows furrowed and his tone of voice anxious, while Minghao was as relaxed as ever. In times like that, it was difficult to believe that Jun was a year older than Minghao.

You were a couple of years younger than Minghao, but you had changed jobs a few times, just like Jun, so Minghao was more senior than both of you.

However, Jun never really treated Minghao like a senior, although you could tell Minghao definitely treated Jun like a junior.

“What do you mean we’re a good match?” Jun hissed.

“I mean what I said,” Minghao replied, sipping his coffee.

“They like the girl I like, how could we be a good match?”

Too stunned to process Minghao’s reply, your mind blanked out as you heard Jun’s whispered words. In fact, you were lucky the cup in your hand didn’t shatter to the ground with how shocked you were feeling.

He liked Yueyue?

Yueyue’s English name was Luna, and she had joined the team at the same time that spring began. With her limited Mandarin, she struggled to communicate with the others, mostly electing to keep to herself and using Google Translate to send emails.

Having come from Singapore, your English was as good as Yueyue’s, and you were able to communicate effectively in Mandarin after your four years at university.

As such, for the time being, you basically acted as Yueyue’s translator, often helping her with her conversational Mandarin. Yueyue was a fast learner, and though sometimes she struggled with active recall, she was able to understand most conversations now without having to look the words up.

You hadn’t realised Jun liked her, but thinking back on it, you did remember Jun often looking at her while working, casting her glances when he thought no one else was looking. You recalled the way Jun hesitated before speaking to her, as if he had to gather his courage before speaking to her.

At the time, you’d simply thought it was because Jun’s English was extremely subpar, and the same could be said of Yueyue’s Mandarin, but now you knew it was more than that.

Even that time that Jun bought you dinner, you were fairly certain that he had gotten it for Yueyue, because it had come with a post-it note that was coming off the side, saying, “Enjoy your meal :)”. Jun must have been unsuccessful in removing it after he realised that Yueyue had brought her own food.

The puzzle pieces were all clicking in place, and your mouth invariably formed an ‘O’ shape as it all started to make sense.

Minghao elbowed Jun, jerking his head slightly in your direction. “Y/n’s staring.”

“Can you stop it, please, I—” Jun’s voice cut off as he turned to look at you. You were still deep in thought, and your unfocused gaze just happened to be facing Jun’s direction. “Oh.”

Minghao nodded. “Go on.” Then, as an afterthought, he added, “And remember what I said.”

Jun glared at him before standing up straight, leaving Minghao leaning against the counter with his mug of forgotten coffee, walking towards you.

He called your name, and you jerked your hand in surprise, spilling coffee on a stunned Jun.

He looked down at his white shirt in shock, frozen to the spot, and you covered your hand with your mouth. You hurriedly set the mug down, grabbing a bunch of tissue paper and pressing it against his shirt to dry it.

“I’m so sorry, you shocked me, I didn’t mean to stain your shirt. You can pass it to me, I’ll wash it, I’m really sorry—”

Jun called your name again, effectively stopping the flow of words that would have otherwise continued to stream from your mouth.

“Stop, it’s fine. It’s just a shirt, I can wash it myself.”

You opened your mouth in protest, and Jun’s eyebrow lifted ever so slightly. “Didn’t know this shirt mattered so much to you. If you want to wash it so badly, I’ll pass it to you after I’ve changed out of it.”

You could only stare in shock at his retreating back as he turned and left, mouth agape. What had Minghao said to him? It felt like the tectonic plates of your dynamics had shifted, but you wouldn’t quite be able to understand it until much, much later.

The first time.

There was a work party coming up, and you originally intended to ask Yueyue to go with you, if not as your date then as your friend.

Lo and behold, just as you opened your mouth to say “Yue”, Jun beat you to it.

“Y/n, would you do me a favour and be my work spouse for a night?” You furrowed your brows at his strange wording, glancing at Yueyue. The latter looked up, caught your eye, and shrugged helplessly.

“No,” you replied flatly. “Yueyue—”

“Pretty please?” Jun latched onto your wrist, tugging onto it like a little child would.

“No!” You pulled your hand away, shaking it in irritation. “Yueyue, will you please—” Before you could finish your sentence, Jun slapped his hand over your mouth, his other hand clutching your wrist again, preventing you from moving away or speaking.

When you finally struggled out of his grasp, you glared at him, beckoning him closer. As he leaned in, you stood on your tiptoes and hissed into his ear, “What are you doing?”

“I don’t want you to go to the party with Yueyue,” he said simply.

“Who I go with is none of your business.”

“Well, both you and Yueyue are my coworkers, so it kind of is.” Then, before you could reply, he said loudly, “Anyway, we’re going together and that’s the end of it. If any of you try to steal my plus-one, you’ll never hear the end of it from me.”

You whipped your head around to see Yueyue’s reaction, and saw her sinking into her chair, the smile on her face dissipating faster than you could blink. Jing Xuan hid her smile behind her hand, calming herself before removing her hand and continuing to work. Minghao had no visible reaction, but his deliberate ignorance was enough.

You were well and truly alone in this struggle with Jun. You took one glance at your gleeful colleague, sighing in defeat.

—

By the time the work party rolled around, it was already summer. You decided to pack your outfit, leaving it hanging by your desk throughout the workday. Sometime early in the afternoon, Jun got up from his seat, collected the suit he’d hung next to the coffee machine, and glanced at Yueyue.

She was too absorbed in her work to notice. Jun scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, and you subtly cleared your throat. “Yueyue,” you called softly.

She finally looked up, raising both her eyebrows at you. “Yes?”

You looked pointedly at Jun and jerked your head slightly in his direction. “He’s trying to talk to you.”

“Oh,” she replied, sounding surprised.

Jun smiled hesitantly at Yueyue, “Do you want to go get changed? Then we can take a taxi to the hotel together.” As he spoke, he moved his hands, pointing first at himself, then at Yueyue. His limbs felt longer than they usually seemed, and he looked like he wasn’t quite sure what to do with them.

Before Yueyue could reply, you cleared your throat again, causing both of them to turn towards you.

“Are you not inviting me to hitch a ride?”

Jun’s eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. Then, he and Yueyue spoke at the same time:

“No.”

“Yes.”

The two glanced at each other, and turned back to you.

“Yes.”

“No.”

Jun caved first, hissing in irritation, saying, “Whatever. As long as Yueyue’s fine with it.”

The person in question smiled warmly at you, and nodded in reassurance. “Sure, you can come with us.”

As Yueyue stood up, you locked gazes with Jun, smiling triumphantly at him.

—

The ride there was tense. Not entirely because you’d figuratively shoved your way into the car, although you suspected that might be a big part of the reason. No, for some reason unbeknownst to you, the typically outspoken Jun had turned silent, nervously glancing at Yueyue from time to time.

Seated in the passenger seat, you couldn’t help but steal a glance at the two behind you from time to time, and yet nothing changed throughout the entire ride.

Jun kept looking down at his hands, playing with his fingers, and Yueyue stared out the window mindlessly.

You debated trying to strike up a conversation, but just as you opened your mouth to speak, the taxi came to a halt. Looking out the window, you noticed that the hotel that had been booked for this party was much, much fancier than you had imagined.

The imposing building stood apart from the plain buildings around it, the stairs leading up to the entrance all lit up. The evening had just begun, and the sun was beginning to set, and the lights drew attention to the hotel.

Inwardly, you sighed in relief that you had chosen one of the more elegant items of clothing in your wardrobe to wear that night, because you were sure that being underdressed would have ruined your whole night.

Too caught up in admiring the grandness of the hotel, you didn’t make a move to step out of the car until Jun opened the door for you, and you stepped out. It seemed only natural to take his hand, although the moment your hand was in Jun’s, you realised that it might be overstepping slightly.

Jun’s hand was warm, enveloping your smaller hand in it completely. Yueyue came to stand behind you, amazed by the scale of the event.

“Let’s go in,” Jun suggested, and you nodded dumbly, following him inside.

Seeing Minghao eased everyone’s nerves a little, and soon there was a small congregation of five near the entrance, all keeping a close watch on the rest of your colleagues.

Since you often came to work in a sectioned-off area, and only worked closely with your teammates, you didn’t recognise any of your other colleagues. However, you couldn’t say the same for Jun.

As an elaborately-dressed young man walked past you, Jun seemed to recognise him, waving hello. Minghao could see that Jun was itching to socialise, and urged the rest of you to find people to talk to as well, leaving with a reassuring smile and a pat on your back.

You stuck to Yueyue like glue, the two of you acting like outsiders in this unfamiliar environment that was far out of your comfort zone, until someone Yueyue knew walked by and struck up a conversation with her. Not wishing to be the third wheel, you watched them walk off, standing awkwardly by the side and wishing the time would pass faster.

Fortunately for you, a kind soul noticed you standing on your own and came over, casually asking for your name and which team you were in. The man, Kun, had a warm face and a comforting voice, easily calming you down.

Halfway through a rather engaging conversation about stocks, you felt the need to visit the restroom, and looked around for someone to help you hold your things.

You would have gone to one of your teammates, but Yueyue and Minghao were having a heated discussion with a group of unfamiliar people, and Jing Xuan was nowhere to be found. Of course, there was Jun, but he flitted from group to group without giving you a chance to catch up to him.

You excused yourself to go to the bathroom, clutching your purse. Before you could leave, Kun reached out and offered to help you hold your things, and you thanked him with an embarrassed smile.

When you came out of the bathroom, you were greeted by an unhappy Jun.

He was standing in the corridor in front of the bathroom, not even on his phone, simply holding your purse and staring at the doorway, waiting for you to emerge. 

You had been expecting to see Kun waiting there, prepared to thank him once more. Instead, the person awaiting you was Jun, and the lack of a smile on his face was disconcerting to say the least.

You couldn’t remember a time you hadn’t seen Jun smile. He had a pleasant disposition and a happy-go-lucky attitude, so seeing him with a poker face was a rare sight.

You reached to take your purse from him without a word, but his grasp on it only tightened as your fingers brushed against his.

“Why didn’t you come find me to help you hold your things?” he asked, volume soft but tone threatening.

You shrugged. “Kun offered to help me before I could go to find you.”

“We’re here together,” Jun insisted. “You’re acting like you hate me.”

You raised your eyebrows, slowly appraising him. “Oh, really? Funny, that’s exactly the same sentiment I received earlier, when you outright refused to let me take the same fucking taxi as you. Is being in my presence such a horrifying thought that you would refuse to take the same car as me after asking me to be your plus-one, deliberately preventing me from getting the date I wanted?”

Stunned, Jun’s grip on your purse loosened, and you shouldered your purse and turned to leave. He grabbed your wrist, and you whipped your head around to glare at him, causing him to immediately let go.

“I’m sorry.”

You stood there, not speaking, but the fact that you weren’t leaving was enough for Jun to continue, “I didn’t mean to upset you. Yes, I wanted to go with Yueyue alone, and yes, I ruined your chance to ask her, and yes, it’s hypocritical of me to expect you to act nicely towards me when I’ve been nothing but an asshole this evening.”

“You left the team first, so anxious to talk to that friend of yours that you didn’t even spare the rest of us a second glance,” you accused.

Jun shrugged his shoulders helplessly. “I’m sorry.”

You nodded curtly in acknowledgement, ready to leave, but Jun called out your name before you could take a single step.

“You can join me for the rest of the evening if you want. Since we’re supposed to be together for the night.”

You looked at him slowly, taking in his pose, rocking on his feet, thumbs stashed into his pockets. He looked distinctly uncomfortable, and some sadistic part of you felt glad you were making him feel that way.

After a long moment of deliberation, you nodded. “Sure.”

The second time.

Jun introduced you as his work spouse for the rest of the night. The first few times, you raised your eyebrows in shock, meeting his mischievous gaze, and his disarming grin told you to leave it be.

So you did, not even batting an eyelash when he proudly showed you off for the rest of the night, your heated conversation from earlier almost forgotten.

You supposed that was one of his charm points, that he didn’t hold grudges. Jun had a forgiving personality, and it made interacting with him comfortable and easy.

As the night passed, your eyelids started drooping, and it became increasingly difficult to pay attention to the conversation topic at hand. Bidding goodbye to a few of your colleagues, you took some time to stand by the side, hiding your yawn behind your hand.

“Tired?” Jun asked, accompanied by a soft laugh.

You nodded. “I think I’ll head home soon.”

“I’ll send you home.”

You cocked your head at him, then shook your head. “There’s no need, you should stay if you want to.”

At that, Jun scoffed, then shook his head and rolled his eyes. “I’d rather not. Besides, it’s not like I would understand what they’re saying without you to translate; their use of technical jargon is way out of my vocabulary range. This entire night, I’ve been piecing together the meaning of their words from your replies.”

You laughed to yourself. “Really?”

Jun nodded. “I’m serious. Anyway, it’s dark outside; you shouldn’t go home alone.”

The corners of your lips lifted, “Didn’t know Wen Junhui was such a gentleman.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

You elected to ignore that sentence, turning on your heel to leave, and Jun chased after you, matching your long strides. Outside, you hailed a car, and Jun rushed to open the door for you.

You hesitated just a second before stepping into the car. Earlier that evening, you’d assumed that Jun had opened the door for you out of formality, because Yueyue was present and he was getting into character for having to spend a night with you.

However, with a night so bleak and the dim glow of the streetlights barely lighting up the roads, there was no one to see his actions then, and everything he was doing was just between the two of you.

Perhaps he really was a gentleman, and it was out of habit that he opened the door for you. You wouldn’t know.

Because Jun was right. There was a lot you didn’t know about him.

The third time.

That incident remained at the back of your mind as concerns about the project wrapping up took priority, especially when finishing the tail-end of the promotions. You were often busy working, and had little time to spare to think about other things.

By then it was summer, and it often rained in the afternoons. Sometimes it only drizzled lightly, and sometimes the thunderstorms were so loud that you could feel your eardrums vibrating.

That day it started out drizzling lightly in the morning. At first, you thought nothing of it, expecting it to stop raining by evening. However, an hour or so before you got off work, it was still pouring outside. The rain didn’t seem like it will stop soon, and you sighed in resignation. You'd foolishly hoped that the rain would have stopped after pouring the whole afternoon, so you'd be able to get home without getting soaked.

However, you were almost about to leave, and yet the rain was still pouring ceaselessly down. You rummaged through your bag for an umbrella.

Even though your hands were occupied, something at the back of your mind told you that you'd forgotten to put the umbrella in your bag this morning. Your search proved futile, and you recalled seeing the umbrella resting on the shoe rack that morning, but you had no memory of putting it into your bag.

You ran through the options in your mind. You could make a dash for it—the building wasn’t too far away from the bus stop—but you didn’t particularly feel like taking the bus home while soaking wet. The other option was waiting it out, but you hadn’t had dinner yet and you were absolutely famished.

You inhaled through gritted teeth, mentally preparing yourself to run through the rain, when a voice cut through your thoughts.

"Are you walking to the bus stop?"

You locked eyes with Jun, who'd just asked the question, and nodded.

"I'm walking there too, shall we go together? We could share an umbrella," he said.

Oh. You felt a ripple of warmth spreading through your body. He'd noticed. You swallowed and nodded. "That would be great. Thanks."

To be honest, you weren’t sure what to think of the gesture. Jun was nicer to you lately, and whatever odd tension between the two of you that had laced your interactions had died down too. You still talked to Yueyue, but more for work than any other reason. Jun, too, seemed to be taking it easy, reducing his attempts at chasing her.

Jun stood up, closing his laptop, and you kept your things as well. He came over to you, umbrella in hand, which caused Minghao to look up from his seat.

“Leaving so early?” This sentence was directed at Jun.

“Yeah. Gotta send my work spouse home, they forgot to bring an umbrella.”

You rolled your eyes at the term, but Minghao didn’t even flinch. “Okay, don’t get too wet.”

Tilting his head, Jun gestured for you to follow him out.

It was a silent walk to the bus stop, both of you all too aware of your proximity to each other, trying not to step too far out of the umbrella for fear of getting soaked. The sky was dark, covered by clouds, and the floor was slippery, so you had to take great care not to slip.

Jun maintained a small gap between the two of you, tilting the umbrella slightly to your side, but when you finally reached the bus stop, both of you were dry.

“Thanks.”

Jun looked up from the umbrella, smirking when he saw the grudging expression on your face. “No problem.”

The fourth time.

When Minghao said you would be going on a trip together as a team, you weren’t expecting that to entail camping in the middle of the woods—”Nature reserve, Y/n, I’ve lost track of how many times I’ve said that already”—and definitely not when you realised you’d have to put up your tents by yourselves.

Not that you were incapable of putting up a tent, but you weren’t keen on the idea of sleeping without a mattress. With your terrible posture and the way you kicked in the night, you could already foresee the backache that would result from this wonderful idea.

At least it was summertime, so you wouldn’t have to worry so much about freezing to death. Minghao and Jun were sharing a tent, of course, because there had never been much to debate about that. Yueyue and Jingxuan were sharing the other 2-person tent, which meant you were left with the smallest tent to yourself. Fortunately, you didn’t mind.

Putting up the tents was a two-person job, and you were embarrassed to admit that you needed help doing it. Obviously, stubborn as you were, you’d tried to set it up by yourself, but trying to place the groundsheet on the ground with only two hands was difficult. You could only hold two corners at a time, and the material of the groundsheet made it such that it kept creasing in ways you didn’t expect, so after a few minutes of trying, you eventually gave up.

You helped Yueyue and Jingxuan fit the tent poles through the loops of the tent, the three of you cheering when the tent started to take shape. Once the tent and flysheet were secured, you asked them to help you set up your tent, only to realise Minghao was the only one setting up his and Jun’s tent. Jun was standing behind you, watching the three of you awkwardly, grinning crookedly at Yueyue when she turned to face him.

Rolling your eyes, you went over to help Minghao.

Minghao raised his eyebrows when you came over, starting to speak before your hands even touched the pegs.

“I’m extremely particular about these sorts of things, by the way. That’s why Jun’s not helping me. So if you do something that I don’t like, there’s a high chance I’ll just undo it and redo it myself.”

You shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

“Also, please put the pegs in well, because I’d prefer to not have to wake up in the middle of the night to find my entire tent blown away.”

You nodded. “Sure.”

After a moment of silence, you tugged at the loops at the bottom of the tent, wiggling the tent pegs deeper into the ground. You packed the soil into the holes you’d made, shaking the pegs to check that they were secure, and stood up with a triumphant smile.

Minghao made his rounds, adjusting the flysheet. Hands on his hips, he walked one round around the tent, inspecting every small bit, using his shoes to check that the pegs were secure. Satisfied, he looked to you with grudging approval.

“Not bad.”

You smiled to yourself, knowing that in Minghao’s dictionary, that was a high-level compliment. Turning back to your own tent, you noticed that Jun and Yueyue were almost done setting it up.

You would have gone over to help, but you didn’t want to interrupt. You turned back to Minghao, who was already climbing into his tent and unpacking his luggage.

“Need help?” you asked Yueyue, deliberately choosing to use English because you knew Jun wouldn’t understand.

She shook her head. “We’re good, I think.”

You glanced at Jun, who was biting his lip in concentration as he slotted the bendy tent pole ends into each other until the tent began to take shape.

“Jun? I can take over from here, you should go ahead and unpack.”

Jun’s head whipped up, and he glared at you for a moment before realising Yueyue was watching him. “I don’t have much to unpack,” he replied simply.

“You sure? I saw how big your luggage is.”

“It’s fine, I can help Yueyue for a little longer.”

“Actually…” The two of you turned your attention to Yueyue, who continued, “I think I need to unpack. I’ll leave the two of you to it?”

You smiled warmly at her. “Go ahead.”

“Yue…” Jun’s voice trailed off as she walked away, glaring at you fiercely.

You pretended not to notice as you focused only on getting your tent up, and once it was set up, you finally paid attention to the way Jun was staring at you. He stood on his tiptoes to tie the knot that secured the tent poles to the flysheet, then stalked over to you.

“Y/n, what the fuck—” The moment the curse word left his lips, Jun looked almost apologetic. He pressed his lips together, silent for a moment, before deciding to continue. “Why would you purposely ask her to leave? We were doing fine, we’re literally helping you set up your tent, I don’t get it.”

“Don’t get what? I just reminded her that she still had to unpack.”

“It won’t take that long, don’t play dumb. It’s still bright, and we both know Minghao always gives enough time for everything. It wouldn’t kill her to start unpacking later.”

You shrugged, your gaze slanting towards the other tent. “Tell her that yourself, it’s not like I told her to leave.”

“Cut the crap, Y/n. Why are you acting like this? I thought we were friends.”

“Why am I sabotaging your attempts to hit on her, you mean? I'm not trying to. I’d just prefer it if you didn’t do it while setting up my tent.”

“I-” Just then, Minghao tapped both of your shoulders, jerking his head towards the centre of all the tents. He looked pointedly at Jun for a few moments, then left without saying anything.

“I’m going to set up a fire,” Jun said. “We’ll talk about this later.”

“Maybe,” you muttered unhappily under your breath.

—

After dinner, which was cooked over the fire—definitely an experience—the five of you sat by the fire, admiring the orange-red sunset. As the sun disappeared on the horizon, the temperature grew colder, and everyone subconsciously shifted their chairs closer to the crackling fire, jackets wrapped tightly around themselves as they extended their fingers towards the glowing flame.

When all the conversation topics had been exhausted, so was Jingxuan, as evidenced by her sudden yawn. Claiming that it was time for her to turn in, she got up. Not wanting to leave her alone, Yueyue took her leave as well. That left you, Minghao and Jun by the fire, moving your chairs so each had a warm spot.

“Y/n?” You glanced at Jun, bracing yourself for the argument you felt was sure to follow. You were naturally argumentative, there was no denying it, and though Jun wasn’t one to start an argument, he always wanted to win them.

You jerked your head in acknowledgement, waiting for him to continue.

“Are we friends?”

You frowned. That wasn’t what you’d been expecting at all. “Yes?” you replied tentatively, unsure where this was heading. 

“Do you like Yueyue?”

You almost laughed. “No.” You didn’t and would never like her that way, probably. She was nice enough, but not exactly your type. You weren’t sure where Jun had got that notion from, but he seemed to be clinging on to that thought since you first joined the company all of 8 months before.

“Then what’s your deal? It feels like you’re doing this on purpose, trying to keep me away from her. If you like her, and she likes you back, fine. I’ll stop pursuing her. But you don’t even like her, so I don’t understand why you’re acting like this.”

You pursed your lips together, trying to identify the feelings messing up your head, like water after a dirty paintbrush was dipped into it. 

Jun looked at you earnestly, eyes wide as he awaited your reply. After a moment of silence, you shrugged helplessly. “I can’t say what it is. But you’re right, I’m being unreasonable. So, how about this: I’ll leave the two of you be if you don’t flirt right in front of my face, deal?”

Jun stuck out his hand, adding, “You’re still my work spouse, right?”

Taking his hand, you nodded. “Sure.”

Just then, an ear-piercing shriek sounded in the otherwise quiet camping place, and the three of you gathered around the fire stood up simultaneously. Minghao was the fastest to get to Jingxuan and Yueyue’s tent, and the two of them ran out of the tent, Jingxuan’s face white with fear.

“There was a rat!” she cried out. “I swear it bit my fucking toe.”

Upon hearing this, Jun looked rather faint. You moved to help Jingxuan get her shoes, bringing her to the campfire to take a seat first. Yueyue helped Jun to sit down, and you left the three of them to get jackets for Yueyue and Jingxuan.

Meanwhile, Minghao took his phone and turned the flashlight on, inspecting the tent and the area around it.

He came back a couple of minutes later, having ascertained that the rat was gone, but by then everyone had grown comfortable and too tired to move. Jingxuan and Jun were fast asleep, heads propped up on their fists, and you watched Yueyue carefully.

Her hands were shoved into the depths of her pockets, her lips forming a pout absentmindedly, hair tucked behind her ears.

Yueyue tapped Jun’s shoulder to rouse him, and the two of you guided your half-asleep colleagues into their tents before everyone finally fell asleep.

The fifth time.

By then it was autumn, and September was drawing to a close. It was an ordinary work day, a couple of hours before lunch, and Jun suddenly stood up, rummaged through his bag, before procuring a card from his wallet and stalking over to Minghao’s desk.

“You busy?” Minghao nodded without looking up. Jun placed the card on his desk, saying, “I’m using this.” Minghao barely spared the card a second glance before saving his progress and getting up from his seat, gesturing for Jun to follow.

The two of them entered the meeting room, your gaze following them curiously. You met Jingxuan’s eyes, both of you just as confused as each other.

You stood up, walking over to Minghao’s desk, examining the card left behind on the desk. It said, in Minghao’s neat handwriting, “15 minutes of my time. Use whenever.”

You furrowed your brows, placing the card carefully back to where it had been before, heading back to your seat.

Jun and Minghao exited the room not long after, Jun looking conflicted. You followed him with your eyes as subtly as you could, watching as Minghao sat in his seat, looking at the card on the table and furrowing his brows. Looking up, he met your gaze, tilting his head.

Shit. Had you not put the card back properly? How did Minghao know? But to your surprise, your team manager didn’t speak, smirking before returning the card to Jun.

“Team drinks later after work,” he announced, not as a question. The other members of the team looked up briefly, nodded, then returned to their work. You continued to watch Jun sit at his desk, bury his head in his hands, then mess up his hair in frustration.

Then, as if nothing had happened, he opened his laptop and began to work.

—

That evening, the five of you sat at the front of the bar, talking between drinks. After Jingxuan’s story about her landlord drastically inflating the rent when he found out that Jingxuan and her roommate were splitting the costs, you recalled an incident you had just had.

A couple of weeks ago, you’d seen a stray cat on the streets, and decided to take it in. You’d since taken it to the vet for a proper check-up, and had made an appointment for it to get spayed. The only issue was that your landlord didn’t allow tenants to keep pets, and you weren’t sure you could keep it a secret when she came over to check.

“Come stay with me,” Jun said. His tone was teasing, but when you looked at him, his gaze seemed earnest, burning into you with his sincerity. The way he said it, it wasn’t really a question.

“I mean it. If you need a place to stay, come stay with me.”

Normally you would tease him for how serious he was being, but something about the fraught silence and the surrounding atmosphere stopped you from making fun of him. Instead, you watched him carefully, never breaking eye contact, and nodded slowly.

“Okay.”

“Lighten up, my work spouse. You’re acting like we haven’t known each other for a year already,” he said, already back to his old self. You only nodded in reply.

Bonus: the time where he leaves out the “work”.

When you first joined the company, little did you expect that three years down the road, you’d end up waking up next to the man you’d met at your interview, the one with brown hair and dark eyes and a sharp smile.

It had started out with him liking your friend, with tensions here and there due to both of your stubborn tendencies. Your personalities clashed often, resulting in disagreements that turned everyone’s moods sour.

However, you were still mature adults, and after a period of working together, you learned to be more accommodating of his differing opinions and habits and vice versa. Through the shared bonding over working overtime and walking home in the rain, you grew from mere colleagues into friends, growing close enough to talk about more than just the latest project you were working on.

Of course, growing from friends into lovers was slightly more complicated, and you had Minghao to thank for helping you along.

You never realised, but Minghao was the first to notice that you were starting to like Jun. If it weren’t for Minghao subtly helping Jun to grow closer to you, the rivalry may have extended for a far longer period of time than just a few months. Especially with the misguided notion that you liked his crush, Jun would not have been as willing to be your friend without Minghao’s constant nudging.

Almost a year after you had met, before getting drinks together and Jun’s fateful statement that led to the two of you moving in together, Jun had realised that he liked you.

He liked you, not Yueyue. The realisation had been startling, and in a daze, he’d used the card Minghao had given him for his birthday to ask for Minghao’s attention. In those 15 minutes in the meeting room, Jun had voiced out his concerns and desperately asked Minghao for some form of advice.

Jun later told you that Minghao’s answer then had been a simple, “I think you like Y/n.”

Having been in denial for so long, it took Jun a while to realise that his feelings for Yueyue had slowly dissipated over time, and that the lingering sentiments were only platonic, whereas his feelings for you had only grown.

Minghao had offered a simple solution to ease Jun’s heavy heart—drinks with the team. Unbeknownst to him, this action had led to Jun’s implied confession and indirectly caused the two of you to finally get together.

Jun snuggled into your embrace, interrupting your thoughts, nuzzling the underside of your chin and burying his face in the crook of your neck.

”Good morning,” you whispered softly, fingers running through his soft hair. He looked up at you briefly, as if checking over every feature of your face, before nodding in satisfaction and shutting his eyes again.

A peaceful smile came over his face, the blissful expression on his face causing you to smile as well.

”You should marry me,” he mumbled, hands tightening around your waist.

”That’s sudden. Where’s the ring?” You teased.

”Haven’t bought it yet,” he frowned. “But if you don’t say yes, then I wouldn’t have to return it.”

You let out a little laugh. Practical as always. “And if I say yes?”

Eyes still closed, he reached over you to the bedside table, fingertips trailing to the first drawer. He pulled it open, and you turned your head to look. There, sitting on top of your favourite books was a nondescript black velvet box. “Pass it to me,” he said, blinking his eyes slowly open.

You passed it to him without a word and he scrambled to sit up in the bed, both knees tucked under him in a kneeling fashion, opening the box to reveal a ring with a silver band, with a small jewel atop it.

”You said you don’t like fancy things, right?”

Struck speechless, you didn’t protest as he gently took your left hand, slipping the ring onto your fourth finger. He pulled your head in towards his chest, kissing the top of your head.

Just like that, Jun’s proposal to you was as simple and direct as the time when he asked you to move in, less of a question than a request, one that you would gladly agree to.

[peterparkersnose]

Two Ghosts

pairing: kylo ren x queen!reader 

word count: 2.6k

warnings: neglect, arranged marriage, dislike of s/o, reader has children, descriptions of periods, domestic abuse, old values (women are dainty bullshit), guys kylo isn’t nice remember that, fertility issues, stopping of a period due to stress, reader lives for her children basically, reader obviously has anxiety, reader is basically breaded for heirs, kylo is awkward (the dude doesn’t have social skills. at all. whatsoever), even though he still has some rizz (call him kylo rizz if you would), a good ending? idk guys remember kylo just isn’t a great person and the first order isn’t a good organization too

a/n a long warning list 😬. anyways i never get notes on kylo fics but i simply do not care. i love writing new content for this man. he deserves it all.

summary Kylo tries being the husband Y/N always wanted him to be

masterlist

join the tag list

read time: 9 mins 40 seconds

Watching you felt almost wrong. The neglect he’s given you through the years- the pain you’ve felt and him not caring about you for as long as he’s known you.

He didn’t deserve to watch this beautiful sight of his family, the family he didn’t even want. The family he wasn’t even apart of. You two were an arranged marriage, married for political reasons. He needed an heir, your father needed peace on your home planet. You and your children had always been a nuisance to him. 

You had given up on the romantic attempts years ago. But something in this sight, something about you right then made him sick. Something made him click taking in this view from the balcony on the hill.

For weeks he had longing feelings of sadness. He hated admitting it and rejected it as much as he could, but light was seeping into the cracks. His moods began to lighten softly, not enough for you to notice but enough to scare him. Now looking down and feeling this, it was just a confirmation of what was really happening to him.

The sun shown down on your beautiful yellow dress that was layed out on the grass. Your hair was up in intricate braids due to the heat on Naboo, the tiny loose strands were swaying in the wind. The field you sat in was just off a short cliff, the beautiful rural city and coast were just feet away. The perfect escape between the busy city and the old city. The mansion sat atop the hill, separating the two separate terrains. You were on a vacation and had begged him to come for the sake of his children.

Your oldest son ran around you in circles, playing with a TIE one of his father’s assistants bought him for Christmas. Kylo couldn’t be bothered to celebrate, let alone give gifts. Henry was just shy of his sixth birthday. His blonde hair was messy and in need of a cut sometime soon. His gray tunic and black pants matched his father’s aesthetic a little too much for your liking. Running around, he made engine sounds as the ship would like a typical 5 year old.

Your youngest daughter sat in front if you, playing with some wildflowers she had plucked into an array of ‘jewlery’. She was three. Unlike her brother, she had beautiful strong brown hair. Unbeknownst to you, it completely mirrored her grandmothers. You had her hair in your hands, coming through it with your fingers trying to decide what design to attempt today. Amala squirmed as she attempted to join her brother, but you kept her in place in your lap. She was to learn to be a lady as you were. Her dark pink dress was spread out in front of her.

Kylo watched you as the pit in his stomach felt odd. It had always been empty, but this time something ached inside of it. He had never had any interest in you. The times you ever had sex were intended and resulted in children, exactly what he needed. He cared more about Henry than Amala. Henry was the oldest and the heir to the First Order. But work called. He was never a family man, he was never meant to be a family man.

These feelings continued to conflict him throughout the night.

As the sun set you came in with the children. The nannies took them upstairs and readied them for bed. You took your place at the long dinner table. On the opposite side sat your husband- legally.

Over the years you obviously lusted for other men. You didn’t even dare act on your thoughts, or barely thought the thoughts at all. You knew Kylo would have their heads within seconds. With an absent husband emotionally and physically it was hard. In the first few years of your marriage, you struggled with fertility problems. Life was so lonely without the children. He grew angrier and angrier with you each time you got your cycle and your anxiety got so bad that it soon stopped. Your doctor moved you to separate chambers and eventually Henry was conceived after years of trying.

You felt like a failure before your son was born.

After copious amounts of treatment during your pregnancy, Henry was born. And then a while after that Supreme Leader Snoke granted you permission to have another. An heir and a spare.

You and Kylo sat silently eating your dinner. Over the years, you had perfected your etiquette. No slurping your wine, no scratching of the fork on the plate. At dinner you would mostly go over your thoughts from the day. The tuition papers you had to sign for Henry’s first school next year. Amala refusing to listen to her nanny and requesting her mommy really warmed your heart. The beautiful memory of that day you had spent with the children. The fact that you were doing it alone and was so good at it.

He listened to your thoughts. You knew he did. No datapad, no work bot giving him constant coded updates you didn’t understand. Tonight it was just the two of you. Two strangers eating dinner together. The show, the facade had to go on. Media wise you two were the loveliest couple in the galaxy. In reality, you spoke maybe once a week.

“R-80!” you called from the dining room. Kylo’s head shot up from his plate of food to see you waiting on the cleaner droid. You had finished the meal and was waiting to leave this awkward encounter.

The droid came around and you began to exit the room. His hand deliberately reached out for yours as you walked past him to get to the door.

A tiny gasp escaped your lips. You stopped and pulled your hand back, a concerned look was on display.

You were begging in your mind for this to had been an accident.

“It was no accident,” he said strongly. His deep voice boomed through your ears. You forgot how powerful it could be sometimes.

For the first time in years Kylo was feeling anxiety. Over something so minuscule, speaking to his wife. His eyes met and darted over your face. He recognized the braid pattern in your hair. You had worn it on your wedding day. Rarely he had seen it on you, depending if he even noticed you on the daily. His eyes were drawn to your dark lipstick on the lips that were slightly pursed.

“Your hair-” he said. Your eyes flicked up to the window, looking for any sign of a reflection.

Did he hate it, was he about to tell you to never wear it again? Was a strand so obviously out of place? Hell, why was he even speaking to you in the first place?

“It’s how it was on our wedding day, if I remember correctly.”

You nodded your head. Heat rose to your cheeks. This is the longest conversation you two have had in months.

He stared into your eyes. He forgot just how beautiful you really were. They were still the same as always, but this time with a few unnoticeable lines around them. You refused to meet his gaze, staring forward at the distorted mirroring of the room in the window.

Ten years in with two kids, you had managed to keep up with yourself and your appearances. For what, you really weren’t sure anymore.

“May I be excused? I would like to go check on the children.” you asked, avoiding his eye contact.

“Yes, one moment.” he said, his hand reaching out for yours. You hesitantly took it.

Kylo took a deep breath. Even though he seemed calm and composed, inside of his head the red alarm was going off. The urge to even ask you this went against everything he believed in. The twist in his stomach snapped. He gave in to the light feelings, begging for more after how good he felt after asking you a simple question.

“May I sleep with you in your chambers tonight?”

Your brows furrowed. “D-did you talk to the Supreme Leader? Did he give you permission for another?” you asked him, worried. You loved your children but you had no say in having them. The Supreme Leader could make you give birth to an army if he willed.

“No, no. This isn’t about sex.” he assured you. Of course you assumed it was about sex. It was the only time he ever really spoke to you. A slight relief flew off your shoulders.

You sighed, taking your hand from his. “I’m going to check on the children.”

Your heels clicked down the empty hallway. Something in you secretly hoped that he would follow you to see the children, but you knew your husband.

You were baffled in his sudden change of heart. He hadn’t shared a bed with you since- well, since Amala was conceived. You didn’t deny his request, but neither confirmed it.

Your thoughts kept you company as you walked down the many corridors and hallways of the mansion.

The large door was cracked, left like that by the nannies. They knew your routine better than anyone else. Amala was sleeping closest to the door. The canopy above her bed was swaying from the wind of the open window. Henry was laying on his stomach in a deep sleep, his limbs all sprawled out over the large bed.

A smile rose to your face as you quietly closed the door. Your heart was full once again. No more doubt plagued the poor, confused thing from dinner.

You made your way to your chambers. You passed what you knew was Kylo’s. Shockingly, the door was open. You caught a glimpse of him working at his desk. He looked too large for the thing, trumping the tiny chair in size. The patio was open and the moonlight rushed in, lighting his room ominously.

He caught a glimpse of your flowing yellow dress passing his room. He wanted to finish up a few papers before bed, but in his heart he knew he had to neglect his work for one night.

He mustered up enough courage to knock on your door. A sweet “Coming!” came from inside. Within seconds, your door was open and he was met with your fresh face. You had changed into your night robes and had your natural hair down on your shoulders. The bathroom light was on and he noticed the fresh mint scent coming from your breathe.

Your night maids hadn’t been around yet, he presumed.

Something in your look, your energy died a bit when you saw him.

How had he never noticed? How could all these feelings, these guilt trips be plaguing him now, suddenly? What changed?

“We’re you hoping for a maid?” he asked, following you into the large room. He locked the door behind him.

You sat down back at your vanity, pulling your brush out of the drawer.

“No.” you replied. He knew you were lying.

The bed creaked as Kylo sat down. His dark grey dress pants were perfectly ironed and didn’t crease at the contact. He itched at his black turtleneck, swiping the cuff with his finger. He could hear his watch ticking from his wrist. The room was cold.

“May I ask why you wanted to be here?” you asked, a certain confidence in your voice had occurred. Turning now to face him, you finished brushing your hair and placed your hairbrush back in the drawer.

“Honestly darling, I’m really not sure.”

Darling?

If you weren’t so poised your jaw would have been on the floor.

“Today I saw a sight. You with the kids in the field.”

“Oh Kylo, there children. There’s nothing wrong with them playing in a field if this is what this is about-”

“No. I-”

Kylo Ren had never felt himself speechless before, yet again choking up at the sight of his family he used to despise.

Your tucked your chair back into your vanity. Now standing infront of the cowardly man, you waited for his response.

His hand cradled his forehead as he stared at the floor, watching your perfectly manicured feet come into frame.

That’s when he let his first sob out in years. You quickly embraced him in your arms, his forehead finding a resting place against your stomach. Your hands sprawled over his back in a cautious way. Peeking over ever so slightly, you checked if he had his lightsaber on his belt. Thank the gods he didn’t, you were afraid he would cut you into two.

Nobody had ever seen Kylo Ren cry.

“I don’t understand what you are getting at.” you whispered to him. Another sob came out, you began to rub his back.

“I-I am such a fool.” he managed to speak. His eyes looked up into yours, finally making contact for the first time in forever.

The look on your face was baffled.

“What have I been doing? I have a family- a wife? So much neglect, so much hate. How are you still here, my dear? How have I not driven you away, or driven you to worse? I-I have two children. Two beautiful children I don’t know and such a beautiful wife that I’m strangers with. So many years wasted. How did it take me ten years to see this? How did one small instance make my life come crumbling down around me?” he asked, bawling out his words.

You were speechless.

“I want to learn- please. How do I have such an amazing person with me and I don’t know the slightest thing about her? Tell me, w-what’s your middle name?” he went on, now holding you by the hips and eagerly speaking.

And that’s when it really hit you. You two were strangers.

“Amala,” you muttered out. “Oh! T-that makes so much sense—in our daughter. Her name,”

“What are there names, please tell me.” he seemed to beg.

“Henry Cornelius Benjaq Ren, Amala Charress Bryneri Ren.” you answered, a smile emerging on your lips.

Was this too good to be true?

Kylo was stunned of Henry’s middle name. Benjaq. There was no way you knew of his real name. The coincidence hurt him even more.

“Cornelius and Charress…” he pondered. “They sound so familiar are they…”

“My parents.” you answered him. “King Cornelius! How could I forget? Oh Y/N. I have neglected you for so long. How could you ever forgive me?”

His voice sounded genuine. “It’s definitely going to take time.” you sighed. Suddenly the years of loneliness and suffering flashed back in your mind. You broke away from his embrace and walked to the open balcony, giving him an invitation to follow.

“I will try. Please Y/N, let me.” he begged, following you outside.

The warm air brushed against your cool skin. You sighed, wishing you would wake up from this nightmare and your husband would be back. Did someone poison his food?

The yearning for anyone’s touch seeped into your mind. Watching all the other royal couples around the galaxy, they all seemed to love eachother. Hands touching almost constantly, sneaking a kiss or two at events. It was rare that you even got a photo with Kylo at the parties you would attend.

“I know,” he sighed, taking your hands into his. “I wish I could make it all go away.” he said with remorse.

The waves crashed against the sand. The wind was beginning to pick up. Your hair began to sway in the slight breeze. “Make it then,” you whispered, grazing a hand against his cheek. You dared giving him any sign of affection. You were half expecting him to pull his lightsaber out and cut you in half, just as you thought before. Something felt so wrong, but so right.

You kissed your husband for the first time since your wedding day. His lips were slightly chapped and you could taste the negroni he was drinking at dinner. The moon show down on the both of you, and the feeling he felt seemed to pass on to you. Force sensitive or not, the force was in your favor tonight. You felt the remorse and the pain he had been harboring for years. All the sleepless nights over work and heartache over his past life. You seemed to dilute all of that inside of him. You were the missing piece he was looking for all along. The thing he wanted the least was now his prized possession; his wife, the mother of his children, his Queen, his Empress.

All of that love came back. The feeling of when he was a little boy and still had light into him entered his heart once again. Ben Solo seeped through the cracks of his dark, broken heart.

tag list: @dani5216 @uwiuwi @alohastyles-x @mandoloriancookie @maddieinnit0 @alexxavicry @scoliobean @avengersfan25 @nyotamalfoy @milly-louise​ 

[joongbin]

— pervert! - c. bc

chan has been needy lately, especially for your touch after the busy schedule ended. all those promotions were done and the two of you finally had time for each other, and that time was the time to punish chan for all those naughty touches he sneaked during photoshoots.

IDOL!chan x 9thmbr!male reader

SMUT - warnings: chan is a perv, gentle to rough, spanking.

pervert chan for u all — hua

Chan kissed you on the cheek lightly, purposely rubbing your bulge right in the changing room. You groaned, clicking your tongue at Chan.

" Chan, we've talked about this.. Just wait for a bit more, okay?" You say, leaving him to fix up your makeup as he whined, he was so pent up. Stress from working so much was overwhelming him. It's okay, once it's all over, he gets to feel you again.

Chan has been at this since the start of promotions, just leaving lingering touches he knew you couldn't resist, and he needed your cock inside him badly. It's been so long since he's felt you fill him up. He rubbed his thighs together as you all went to your next concert stage.

A month after that, and those teasing touches, everything finally slowed down. Everyone had a break and was asked to only film vlogs. You stayed with Chan at his parent's home, his siblings and parents well aware of you being his boyfriend.

One night, Chan got needy. He grinded against your thigh as you praised him, making him whine alot.

" Fuck.. (name), please.. Touch me..? " Chan begged, his eyes looking up as he pleaded for you to just touch him. Maybe it felt too good, maybe he just wanted you. In any case, Chan grinding on your thigh was definitely a sight to see, you definitely wondered how the fanboys and fangirls would react.

" Chan, be more patient. Besides, you were the one that kept touching me. You're the one that was needy. " Chan groaned at your words, his hands gripping on your shoulders for dear life with a wet patch slowly forming on his boxers.

" I know- I know.. I'm sorry.. c'mon, just make me cum.. once is enough for me.. please.. " Chan pleaded with you, using his best puppy eyes to convince you. You thought about it, and you did want to try something with Chan. You were sure he'd like it, since you did accidentally do it during one of your.. sessions.

Currently, you have Chan, bent over for you, presenting his ass. He looked flushed, his hair disheveled and his shirt rolled up to his waist. You were groping it, teasing Chan as he kept whining for you to hurry up.

" Patience, Chan. Don't you want to cum? " Chan's dick practically twitched at what you said as he nodded.

" Now, count how many times I spank you until you cum, got that? " Chan gave an affirmative nod, getting ready for you as he felt the first slap. He whined loudly, counting the first slap.

The second, third and fourth was doable, with him still being able to count despite his head being overwhelmed with pleasure.

Fifth, sixth, seventh were a bit more difficult, since by now, his cock was begging to cum. He whined as you carresed his ass, looking at you with tears practically about to come out.

Eighth, ninth and tenth had him on the brink, with barely any coherent words coming out of him, his thighs were shaking, and tears dropped on the mattress. Tears of pleasure and pain.

Eleventh, twelfth and thirteenth. He was so close— so close to cumming. Just a little bit more. His words were barely anything at this point, and drool was dripping down his chin.

Fourteenth, fifteenth, sixteenth, eighteenth. Pants and whimpers came from him, his cock leaking so much precum. Just a little bit more.

Ninteenth and twenty. With a loud whine, his cum spurted out, his thighs shaking like crazy as he released on the mattress. You waited until he finished before setting him back on your lap, kissing him as you rubbed his ass, feeling a little bit sorry at how rough you were with your spanks.

" You okay? " You asked, earning a nod from him as he groaned. The pain was definitely coming to him now.

" .. Babe.. I don't think we can film any vlogs. "

[avatar-anna]

Love on Tour: The Documentary

we all know harry is working on a documentary, so this is my take on how young dad!harry would approach it!

Young dad!Harry x Young mom!Reader universe

and now a little key:

bold and italics: camera directions, or what you would be seeing as a viewer of the documentary in person

just italics: interviewer questions, or people who are speaking off camera

Part 2 Part 3

Harry jogs off stage, his mask wrapped securely around his ears as he leaves the sounds of thousands of screams behind. Even so, his squinted eyes make it obvious that he’s smiling. He walks into his dressing room and shuts the door with a soft click and immediately starts to change out of his concert outfit. After shimmying into a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, Harry grabs his phone and sits down on the couch.

“Hi, Mama.”

“Hi, baby. How was the show?”

"Amazing. I feel like we get better with each performance."

"Aw, H. I'm so happy for you!"

Harry grins at his phone while resting his chin on his hand. "Missed seeing you. Missed seeing all of you."

"We're so proud of you, baby. No matter how far away we are," the voice on the other side of Harry's phone says. "In other news, the bub has been quite active today."

"Yeah?" Harry says, and his demeanor immediately visibly brightens. "Hope she's not giving you too much trouble."

"We don't know if it's a she, H."

"I do. I have a sixth sense for these types of things."

Cut to Harry sitting in an empty room for his interview.

“So, why did you decide to talk about all of this now?”

Harry rubs his chin as he ponders the question. “I think…I think it’s hard not to. When I think back on my career, I think about how old Simone was or how Jules had just begun walking or sneaking to a courthouse to get married. My family is a part of my life and has been a part of most of my career. My kids, my wife...they mean everything to me, and I—I know it sounds kind of crazy, but I can’t imagine my life, my career any differently. I wouldn’t want to do this without my family.”

The camera cuts to a series of home videos—Y/n and Harry sharing a kiss in a courthouse, members of One Direction celebrating around them, a toddler in Harry’s lap as he plays the piano, Y/n on a tour bus with a small bundle in her arms, Harry catching a little girl as she jumps into a pool, a little girl with dark curls playing with all members of One Direction backstage at a concert venue, Harry asleep on a hotel bed with his face covered in play makeup, a three year old sleeping next to him.

“Should we start with when you met Y/n?”

His grin is immediate. “I was seventeen years old.”

Harry’s voice becomes a voice over as clips of him and the members of One Direction film their music video for What Makes You Beautiful. 

“It sounds cheesy, but I’ve always thought it was fate that we met. Her friend was an extra in the video, and she happened to tag along. I was immediately taken with her. We got along really well and talked long after I left LA.”

The camera cuts back to Harry.

“Just talked?”

Harry blushes. “Obviously not, but I’m a gentleman. All I’ll say is, kids, understand the importance of practicing protected sex.”

A cut to a similar room where Y/n sits.

“He said that? My husband, everybody.”

Everyone behind the studio laughs with her.

“So you got pregnant.”

Y/n nods. “Oh yeah.”

“Was there ever a moment where you didn’t want to tell Harry?”

“It definitely crossed my mind. We were so young and we didn’t see each other very often in the grand scheme of things. No one ever expects something like this to happen to them, but it happened to us.”

Back to Harry.

“I was terrified. Mostly terrified to tell my mum, but it…it changed everything. Here I was thinking my life had already changed drastically with the band, and then Y/n is pregnant.”

The camera cuts to Anne’s interview.

“I mean, I think the possibility is in the back of parent’s mind,” she says, shaking her head a little. “But you raise your children to be smart and responsible and hope for the best.”

“How did that conversation go when Harry told you?”

“He was practically crying over the phone, which made me…less angry, which isn’t even the right word, I don’t think. Poor Harry was so scared, and all I kept thinking was, ‘I send my son to Hollywood and a few months later he gets some girl pregnant.’ I didn’t even know he was dating Y/n.”

“You didn’t?”

“No, so that made the whole thing even more surprising. But he kept saying, ‘Mum, she’s not just some girl. She’s really special.’ Things like that. But I won’t lie, it was a lot to digest.”

Back to Y/n.

“What was it like meeting Anne for the first time?”

“Oh God,” Y/n says. “Mortifying. I was already showing when we met, which made the whole thing that much worse. We couldn’t even pretend we were meeting under normal ‘meet your boyfriend’s mom for the first time’ circumstances. But she was really nice. She asked how I was feeling and helped me get set up with the right doctors. She made me feel welcome, which I appreciated.”

Back to Harry.

“Her parents weren’t as supportive as mine, and she was feeling kind of isolated and overwhelmed, so I convinced my mum to let Y/n live with her.”

Back to Y/n.

“You lived with Harry’s mother?”

Y/n nods and smiles at the camera. “It felt like the right thing to do at the time, and I stand by it. Things were really tense at home, and I just thought it would be a little easier going through everything with people who were completely on board.” Y/n shrugs. “I was young and scared and needed a maternal figure. I tried to think of it as going off to college.”

“But no one had a clue about any of this.”

Back to Harry.

Harry shakes his head. “My management at the time wanted to make this go away as quickly as possible. They tried to pay Y/n off so she wouldn’t contact me again or say anything about it.”

“Really?”

Back to Y/n.

“Yeah, but I told them to shove their offer up their asses. It wasn’t nearly as much as I would’ve gotten from child support, first of all.”

“Did you ever consider taking the offer?”

“Of course I did. I had to consider all my options.” Y/n is quiet for a moment and doesn’t look at the camera. “I eventually decided to stay with Harry and have the baby, but, you know, I had my whole life ahead of me. Both of us did.”

Back to Harry.

“Did you know about that?”

“The payoff? Yeah, she told me shortly after. As for the other stuff…I knew. And I would’ve respected whatever decision she made. But when she decided to keep the baby and keep me in her life, I told management they would have to figure something else out, and keeping her and the pregnancy was their solution.”

“What was it like to be in One Direction while having a baby at home?”

“Strange,” Harry says. “Like, some of the best moments of my life were in the band, but then I would get a text from Y/n and it would be a picture of Simone in the bathtub covered in bubbles, and I would want to be there all of a sudden.”

A series of videos and photographs of Harry and Y/n in 2012 appear. In hotel rooms, backstage at One Direction concerts, homes. With each image, Y/n’s baby bump grows.

(Voiceover) “It was this weird mix of having so much fun and feeling bad when I realized Y/n was at home by herself with a newborn. She’s never blamed me or never asked me to stop what I was doing, but this tiny seed of guilt was always in the back of my mind.

A video of a young Harry and Y/n appears. They seem to be in a dressing room. Y/n lays against Harry while his hand rests on her baby bump. Y/n looks up at Harry and smiles, and he smiles back before he looks up and realizes they’re being filmed. “Oi! Get out of here, Louis!” Louis laughs from behind the camera and says, “You’ll thank me later!”

“We were faced with a lot of decisions, none of them easy. And sneaking around had its drawbacks, especially when my management team wanted me to start doing all the fake dating and stuff.”

Harry stops talking, as if recalling a memory, but he doesn’t share it. “But one thing was easy at least. When we first met, we bonded over our love for Nina Simone. When Y/n suggested it, it just sounded right.”

Back to Harry in his dressing room.

“How is everyone?” he asks Y/n over the phone.

“I have four little monkeys that should be asleep, but they wanted to say goodnight first.”

Harry’s grin widens as a chorus of hellos echoes from his phone. From a different angle over his shoulder, four faces can be seen on his screen. “Hi, hi, hi, hi. Are you all being good for your mumma?”

“Dada!”

“Where are you?”

“How was the show?”

“Hi my loves. The show went really, really great. I miss you all so much,” Harry says.

“When are you coming home, Dada?”

“Soon, Maeve, I promise. Just a couple more nights and I’ll be home.”

“Can we get ice cream when you come home?”

Harry laughs. “Yes, peanut, we can get ice cream. Now go to sleep. It’s past your bedtime.”

There’s lots of protesting from the four children on the phone, but one voice pipes up above the rest. “Can you sing us a song?”

“Of course, JuJu. How could I forget? What would you like?”

Back to Harry’s interview.

“So, how many kids do you have now?”

“I am a proud father of six. Five girls, one boy, one set of twins.”

“Full house then.”

Harry nods and makes a mock-exasperated sigh. “Oh yeah.”

“What’s that like?”

“There’s never a dull moment, that’s for sure. Y/n’s the real marvel, though. I don’t know how she does it.”

Back to Y/n.

“I’m not gonna lie, there are times where I don’t even feel like a person, but Harry works just as hard to give our family the life we have. And he’s an incredible dad. He’ll come home from tour, clearly exhausted, and he’ll still be the first one out of bed to get the kids ready for school and make breakfast and change diapers. I mean, the man doesn’t stop.”

“You’re a team, then.”

Y/n smiles. “Yeah. We’re a team. All eight of us.”

“Did you see yourself ever having six kids?”

“I mean...technically we were supposed to stop at four.”

“So what happened?”

Y/n sighs and shakes her head exasperatedly. “The pandemic happened.”

A home video begins to play in the Styles’ living room. Harry is filming and Y/n is in front of it with her hands behind her back.

“Alright. Tell me why the camera’s out, Mama. Where are the kids?”

“They’re building a pillow fort for us in our room, but first…I  have a surprise for you.”

Y/n leans past the camera to give him a small gift bag. Crinkling is heard as Harry pulls tissue paper out of the bag. “Are you serious?”

Y/n nods, a large grin on her face. “I’m about six weeks along.”

Harry laughs, and the camera wobbles as he rushes over to Y/n to pick her up. Their giggles and cheers of excitement can be heard offscreen.

“We’re having a baby!” Harry says.

Back to Harry.

“Are you gonna go for lucky number seven?”

Harry scratches the back of his head. “Currently up for debate. The missus is apprehensive, but I think I’m wearing her down.

Back to Y/n

Y/n scoffs and shakes her head. “He can keep on dreaming.”

“So you’ve had this discussion before?”

“It’s…been mentioned once or twice. But any time he brings it up I threaten him with no sex for two weeks. Am I allowed to say that?”

Back to Harry.

Harry opens his mouth to speak when a small hand tugs on his shirt. Looking down, he smiles. Harry bends down and picks up a little girl. For privacy reasons, her face is blurred. She wraps her arms around his neck so she’s in his lap and her back is facing the camera.

“I’m hungry,” the little girl says in what can only be described as a “monster voice.”

Matching her tone, Harry asks, “What would you like, GiGi?”

“Grilled cheese.”

Harry shakes his head and kisses GiGi’s temple. He covers the microphone clipped on his shirt so he can talk to his daughter privately. With another kiss, he lets go of the mic. “You got it.” Harry shrugs at the camera with a smile. To the camera, he says, “Can we finish this later? Duty calls.”