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2tarbell · 2 months ago

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US — KOOK!READER

rafe cameron had been yours since the moment you met.

(drabble. © 2tarbell 2024)

if anyone asked you, you’d say you never got jealous. what was the point? a seemingly endless waste of energy and your valuable attention — people would get on their knees in seconds for a chance to talk to you. a kook princess never got jealous.

which is why the stinging question of ‘why?’ bounced around your head as you watched rafe walk back over to the bar, a pretty head of dark hair awaiting him with an infuriatingly easy going smile.

sofia.

you only learned her name after she introduced herself with a little grin. something about the pogue was effortless and it was currently eating away at any confidence you might’ve had when you walked in.

your makeup felt heavy and your miniskirt too short, too tight — did you look trashy? like you were trying too hard? she was sweet; that girl next door energy you know you’d never have. no matter how much you cried and pleaded.

a bump to your shoulder interrupted your brooding, pretty glossed lips stuck together in a pout, mimicking the furrow of your brow. topper gave you a knowing look and a scowl met him. he chuckled dryly.

“earth to princess, hellooo?”

you rolled your eyes, directing your attention to your empty cocktail glass. the ice looked back at you mockingly — you’re the one who asked rafe to go get you another drink. stupid, stupid, stupid.

“go to hell, top.” the quip made your other best friend laugh, kelce reaching across the table to steal a fry from your untouched plate. how could you eat in a moment like this?

“what’s the problem? you’re literally pouting.” the boy mumbled.

the way kelce spoke through a mouthful of fried potato made you wince. a napkin is thrown in his direction, landing on the table lamely. boys are so messy, and nosey.

you huff dramatically, “ugh, it’s nothing. god, i miss when men went off to war and, like, died or something—“

your annoyed spiel is cut off by a drink being placed in front of you, the lime already squeezed in and floating amongst the cubes of ice. just how you like it. a warm hand rests on the nape of your neck as the chair beside you squeaks against the floor. that voice you know so well rumbling close to you.

“who’s dying?” rafe mumbles as he gets comfortable in the plush chair again, arm stretching behind your shoulders. the gesture is so casual and it makes your stomach twist.

his eyes are piercing when you look over at him — a smirk raises his lips and you fight the urge to slap him then kiss it off his stupid face.

“you — if you were gonna take any longer.”

the eye roll you receive is nothing out of the ordinary — rafe was used to your bitchy tendencies. but watching him chat with the bartender made a seed of doubt burrow into your mind. sofia probably wasn’t such a cunt. maybe that’s why he likes her.

“yeah, well, someone wanted a lime and they were out. sorta hadta wait for your shit, dollface…” rafe explained like it was second nature.

your passive aggressiveness never seemed to phased him, he always put up with it, with you. the thought hurt more than you cared to admit. it was masked with a glare.

you flipped your hair over your shoulder and crossed a leg over the other, stomach churning while you poked at the cocktail with the thin black straw. the conversation between the boys picked back up — blah blah, golf, topper whining about sarah, blah blah.

it was like the cameron boy sensed your disinterest. his arm on the back of your chair shifted, blunt nails now tracing up and down your spine. the contact made your back straighten before leaning into his touch.

it was pacifying for a while. his side profile caught your attention, nose sharp and sexy, cheekbones crafted expertly. he was so handsome it was unfair... she probably thought so, too.

god, why couldn’t you stop thinking about that pogue girl? was he charming and funny to her? maybe he played hard to get and dismissive. maybe her number was sitting in his pocket, scribbled on a napkin in perfect curls — fucking ew.

suddenly you became irritated. the thought of your best friend, your rafe thinking he could flirt with someone like her then slink back over to you. yeah, right. you weren’t that easy. you rolled your shoulders, shrugging off his touch. he shot you a look but didn’t say anything, just adjusted in his chair.

you were listening to the conversation even less now, anger and something you didn’t want to name boiling in your chest. stiff as a board, you picked at your food. only humming in acknowledgment when something concerned you. it was obvious something was the matter and your friends shared curious looks with each other but never asked you outright.

a warm palm tried to squeeze your thigh but you pushed his hand off. rafe clenched his jaw at your dismissal, feeling that familiar need for dominance over you and whatever fuckin’ attitude you decided to have today. with topper and kelce in a heated debate over something probably stupid, rafe leaned in — his breath was hot against your ear as he spoke in a low warning tone.

“don’t know what your fuckin’ deal is — but it ends now, yeah? eat.”

the glare you sent up through your lashes only stoked the fires of his annoyance. there’s a momentary stare off, eyes communicating thousands of thoughts and unspeakable feelings.

with a scoff you look away, feeling a lump form in your throat. no, this isn’t happening. you stand abruptly and rifle through your purse for a hundred before you throw it on the table, storming off with heels clicking.

the sound echoes in rafe’s head as he snatches the bill up, placing his card down on the table. he quickly follows after you, ignoring the way sofia’s eyes light up when he heads her direction.

“hi, rafe, i was just…” her words fizzle out in her tongue as she watches him pass her, marching after the pretty girl in a yellow top.

the small family bathroom offered a reprieve from the stifling nature of rafe’s presence and your own mind. looking in the mirror — you hardly recognized yourself. you shoved your purse onto the counter, feeling like your composure was completely lost.

eyes wide and teary, lips still glittery but trembling. this was only a version of you he could bring out. now, you found yourself wishing for the comforting weight of his words and gaze and — no, be strong. get it together.

the silence was broken by the door being pushed open with immense force. your head dropped, not trusting yourself to form a witty stab of words. within seconds he was turning you, body hard and pressing your back into the counter, reaching behind you and shoving the hundred dollar bill back into your purse. a wince left you when he gripped your jaw tightly with a hold unforgiving and questioning.

“fuck was that, huh? you— you were doin’ so well, dollface, and now—”

the words halted when he saw a shiny tear streak down your face. the way his eyes softened only pushed you further into despair. his hand moved, now cupping your face and running a thumb along your cheekbone. the wet pearl caught on his skin but once they started, they just kept coming.

soon you were in his arms, hiccuping and holding on for dear life. rafe rocked you with a tight hold — voice soothing despite the look of confusion on his face. he’d never seen you this upset before, this broken.

“hey, hey, woah — what’s’a matter? what happened?” he cooed.

his large palm smoothed over your hair as you pressed your makeup running cheeks to his chest. hugging rafe always made everything better, but now you can’t stop thinking about him holding her like this.

he spoke your name firmly, pulling your head back to look deep into your wet eyes. his stare was intense, worried and seeking answers.

“use your words f’me,” he pushed your hair back off your forehead as he mumbled. and if you were in your right mind, you would’ve shrieked about him ruining your hair.

“jus’— d’you like her?” you blubbered.

rafe was more than confused, his eyebrows drawn together tightly. he crouched down a little, trying to hear your meek voice better.

frustrated and distraught, you pushed him back weakly. a few more inches were put between you two — only a few seconds until he crowded you again, trying to soothe you.

“sofia, rafe! do you like her?”

your yelling had him stepping even closer. shaking his head quickly, confused and slightly irritated, rafe cupped your cheeks in his palms.

“okay, okay— i heard you. don’t scream. i don’t— i don’t even fuckin’ know her. stop, stay still—“

you were squirming, trying to get far from him. far from this and the horrible ache in your chest at just the thought him maybe, possibly—

“stop, i’m talking now. ‘m not— i don’t like sofia, okay? i don’t, y’hear me?” his voice was authoritative, freezing you in place. those blue eyes pleaded with yours for understanding, for trust.

despite the tension between you, his heart skips a beat as your gaze meets his. he sees the sparkle in your eyes, that fire mixed with a hint of softness that he’s so fond of. it gives him a glimmer of hope that maybe he can bridge this gap between you.

“c’mon. you know you’re my girl.”

you melt into him unconsciously, seeking that warmth his embrace always seemed to bring. you’re hugging each other tightly in the small bathroom. rafe stares at your figures in the mirror, watching as you nuzzle further into his arms. like you belong there.

with a sniffle, you tip your head back. feeling so small as you look up at his face. rafe leans down and presses a tender kiss to your mouth — moving slowly in a moment of raw vulnerability.

his voice is low, you feel the vibrations against your lips as he speaks softly, “i wouldn’t do that t’you… to us.”

he feels your body tense at his words, his hands squeeze your hips. with wide eyes you pull back from the kiss and gape at him. his touch is begging you to listen, to not freak out. the tears well anew as you let his words wash over you. us. he thinks there’s an us.

suddenly, it’s like you can breathe again. like all the nights feeling scared and confused without him seem worth it. all of it’s worth it to be in his arms like this, hearing him justify the feelings you’ve done everything to bury.

rafe cups your cheek in one hand, the other arm wrapping fully around your body. there’s something so tender and charged about the way he’s looking at you and wiping your crocodile tears away.

he’s begging you now, eyes flicking between yours, “you’re my girl, you know that. always gonna be us, a’ight?”

a light burns in your heart and you realize that you do know that. when has it ever been anything else? when has he not been by your side, dealing with your bullshit? rafe cameron had been yours since the moment you met.

with a shaky exhale you nod, leaning into his palm. the sight of you so fragile tears at his heart and rafe draws you in closer. his nose finds home in your hairline and he peppers kisses along your forehead. us.

the revelation didn’t stop the words from spilling out of your mouth, insecurity still pecking at your mind.

“she’s probably easier to deal with.”

“nah, i don’t wan’ easy.”

he pulls back, holding the back of your neck to angle your face towards him. there’s a hardness to his gaze — like the very idea of easy is repulsing him. then he’s smirking and leaning in.

rafe presses a firm kiss to your mouth, tongue parting your lips and swallowing the hiccup of pleasure that slipped out. his leg wedges its way between yours, knee pressed snugly underneath your miniskirt. he’s devouring you completely unforgivingly. without thought, you roll your hips against his knee. the tension in your body melts away as the friction of his jeans meets your covered clit.

“mmf, rafe—”

“i don’t want easy,” his words accented by harsher presses of his leg upward, causing you to choke on air, “i want you. whiny and bratty and beautiful you. got it?”

nodding your head fervently, he smushes his lips against yours. lifting you onto the small counter and shoving a hand up your skirt, his hardness pressing thick and pulsing against your thigh. the kiss so messy and clothes haphazardly being pulled to the side. the spark of finally being seen, finally being acknowledged as his, fuels the moment.

the sex is slow and steady, a promise of commitment and dedication to this messy relationship. to each other. tears of pleasure and happiness collect on your lash line, pretty face scrunched in ecstasy only rafe could provide.

(and topper and kelce took his card and ordered five beers each.)

#kook!reader #rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe outer banks #fanfic #outer banks #rafe cameron smut #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #rafe obx #obx smut #obx x reader #obx fanfiction #obx imagine #obx fic #rafe x you #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron prompt

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freaksun · 4 months ago

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eddie doesnt let anyone touch his hair. ever.

it reminds him of his late mother, who had the same gorgeous untamed curls. She used to comb his hair when he was little, being ever so gentle and taking her time brushing out the knots.

his father made him feel less-than for just about everything about him, including his gorgeous mane. Called him awful names and always told him to ‘cut that fairy shit’ when it grew too long.

so, ever since she passed, and his father went to jail, hes been growing it.

unfortunately, she never taught him how to take care of it, she’d always just do it herself. So, he doesnt put product in it, he doesnt cut it, he doesnt even brush it. And, stubborn as his mama, he doesnt let anyone else touch it either.

then you come along, happy and sweet, always loving to everyone. he falls in love with you so fast he hardly even notices. you certainly dont either.

one hot summer day you’re both in his room, you on his bed, him pacing, frantically explaining some sort of nerdy campaign idea. you dont know, you havent been listening for a while, too distracted by the way he keeps wiping sweat from the back of his neck. you cut him off rudely, he doesnt mind

“hey eddie?”

“sweetheart?”

“whens the last time you got a haircut?”

he freezes, silent, which is very out of character, dude never shuts up.

“uhh. like a few years ago. why?”

its your turn to be quiet, suddenly all coy. he finds you absolutely adorable as you stare at his floor, trying to find a way to ask him without startling him. as if he were some wild animal, which, he basically is.

“just.. immm noticinggg its kinda matted in the back…”

you try to sound the least accusing as you can. he doesnt seem offended but you can tell hes thinking.

“well, yeah, i. i guess i just havent touched it since. well my mom used to do it for me”

you feel like an ass, touching on something you shouldnt have, making him all quiet and sad. you backtrack.

“jesus, eddie, im sorry i didnt mean to-“

“its okay angel, i know”

he sits next to you. you give him a nervous smile, still sweet, hesitantly reaching for his curls. you can tell he’s hesitant too, but he nods, granting you permission. you take a single strand between your fingers, twirling it.

“Its so pretty, eds. ..would you let me? take care of it, i mean?”

hes scared. but youre so sweet and youre asking so nicely. a part of him is scared if he lets you, he loses another part of his mom. but the other part is staring into your eyes and seeing nothing but genuine affection.

“i.. i guess you could.. try.”

his heart pounds in his chest. You absolutely beam, thanking him immediately and bouncing around the room, looking for a brush. he laughs, shaking his head. you watch as he rummages through his closet, before handing you a light pink brush. you think about teasing him for it but he already looks vulnerable. you smile sweetly instead, taking it from him.

“sit” you point with the brush. he does as you say, running his hands up and down his thighs in a self soothing motion.

“its okay eds, you dont have to be nervous.. ill be gentle i promise” he gives you an unconvincing smile. you return with a guilty one, downturned. you kneel in front of him, in between his knees, brushing his bangs with your fingers.

“we can stop whenever you want, okay?” his cheeks are bright red as he nods timidly

you move to sit behind him, and run your hands through his curls gently, admiring it. you take a part, hold it at the root, and brush gently.

“that feel okay? tell me if it hurts” ever so sweet.

“mm-hm” you can feel his nervousness. “you- you remind me of her, y’know”

youre pretty taken aback, but honoured nonetheless. you keep brushing through the mattes in his hair as you talk.

“Yeah? Wanna tell be about her?” youre not sure if its the right thing to say, but you figure he probably hasnt talked about her in a long time. you can practically feel his energy shift.

“she was sweet. loving and kind to everyone, like you.” you both smile. “and she was pretty. beautiful. i really miss her.” you stop, rub his back a little.

“i can only imagine.. im sorry eddie.” he turns to face you, smiling.

“s’alright sweetheart. thanks for letting me talk about her” he hugs you. you hug him back, tight.

“hows the ole hair going?” He asks when he pulls back, a joking tone to lighten the mood.

“good!!! ive gotten the mattes outta this chunk here, it looks good. your hair is really beautiful, eds” youre ecstatic and it travels to him.

“thank you. my mom had the same hair.” he smiles, turning back around to let you continue.

“i bet she was really gorgeous.” youre extra-extra gentle. He keeps talking and you keep working. He tells you about how she smelled, the softness of her voice, his favourite memories with her. he tells you about the last time he saw her. he tells you all the things hes been holding inside, everything he never got to tell anyone, never trusted anyone enough. and when hes done, his hair is untangled and soft.

you smile proudly, running your hands through his hair, marveling at your work.

“its done” he whips around, looking at you with wide excited eyes

“really??” you nod, smiling wide. he runs over to the bathroom to see for himself. You stand behind him, peeking over his shoulder in the mirror. Hes surprised, looks like he might even cry. you wrap your arms around him, leaning your head against his arm.

“do you like it? Its a little poofy, but you can wash it out and it’ll look be-“ he cuts you off by turning around and hugging you. he hugs you tight, lifting you up.

“thank you.” you can tell he really means it.

#my fics #eddie munson x female reader #eddie the freak munson #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x gn!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #my fic #eddie munson stranger things #eddie munson fluff #eddie my love <3 #my writing

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hoe4hotchner · 1 month ago

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helloo can you write a hotch x reader where the reader is very clumsy and bruise easily and always show up to work in bruises which cause them to worry and especially hotch and she have to reassure him that it’s just her that bumps and trip into things and stuff

Discoloration | [A.H]

𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: 𝘈𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘯 𝘏𝘰𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘯𝘦𝘳 𝘹 𝘎𝘯!𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘊𝘞: 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘳𝘯, 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘣𝘳𝘶𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘤𝘭𝘶𝘮𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴𝘴, 𝘏𝘰𝘵𝘤𝘩 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦, 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦. 𝘞𝘊: 0.6𝘬

You were no stranger to clumsiness. Bumping into things, tripping over nothing, catching your arm on the edge of desks or walls - it was just part of your daily routine at this point. Unfortunately, that also meant your skin was often painted with bruises in varying shades of purple, blue, and yellow dotting your arms and legs like some kind of accidental artwork.

Arriving at work with another fresh set of marks wasn’t uncommon for you. But as the days went on, you noticed more and more concerned glances from your team. You brushed it off, figuring they'd catch on soon enough. Everyone at the BAU had sharp eyes, after all, and it wasn’t long before the questions started.

It was Hotch, of course, who took the lead. One afternoon, after you’d bumped your shin on a filing cabinet, you saw him watching you, his brows furrowed in a way that showed more than just curiosity. It was worry.

“Agent, can we talk?” Hotch asked, gesturing to his office with a slight nod. You knew that tone - it was serious, a mixture of concern and authority that he wielded effortlessly.

You followed him upstairs, your mind already piecing together what this was about. Once inside, he closed the door and turned to you, his dark eyes scanning you like he was trying to solve a puzzle.

“Are you okay?” he asked, voice soft but direct. "I’ve noticed… the bruises. And I’m not the only one." He gestured to the rest of the team sitting down in the bullpen

Your heart sank a little, realizing how it must look from his perspective. You smiled nervously, shaking your head. "Oh, no, Hotch, it's not what you're thinking. I’m just really clumsy. I bump into things all the time - honestly, I’m kind of a walking disaster."

His frown deepened, and he took a step closer. “I’ve seen how often you come in with new bruises. If something else is going on, you can tell me.”

You could feel the tension between his concern and your own awkwardness at having to explain your constant lack of grace. “Really, it’s just me,” you insisted, your voice steady but gentle. “I trip over my own feet, walk into doors, catch my arms on things. I’ve been like this forever. My skin just bruises really easily.”

Hotch still didn’t look convinced. He studied you for a moment longer, then let out a small sigh, running a hand over his face. “You’re sure?”

“I’m sure,” you said, offering him a reassuring smile. “I promise, Hotch, if something was wrong, you’d be the first person I’d tell.”

He nodded, though the tension hadn’t entirely left his features. He trusted you, but his protective nature wouldn’t let go of the worry that easily. “I just don’t want to see you hurt,” he murmured, his voice low and sincere.

You softened at his words. “I appreciate it, Aaron. Really. But I’m okay. Just a little clumsy.”

Finally, a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Maybe we’ll have to wrap you in bubble wrap.”

You laughed, the tension in the room dissolving at last. “Might not be a bad idea,” you teased. Glad to see him joke around for once.

He reached out, placing a gentle hand on your arm, his thumb brushing against a bruise there. His touch was careful as if he was trying to protect you from further harm. “Just… be careful, okay?”

“I will. And thank you for worrying.”

With one last glance, he nodded, his features relaxing a little more. You left his office, feeling lighter than when you’d walked in. It was nice to know he cared so deeply, even if it was over your clumsiness.

But next time, maybe you’d make a conscious effort to avoid the corners of furniture.

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zombieumbreon · 2 months ago

Text

She’s Insatiable

Ft. Hanta Sero, Denki Kaminari, Tokoyami Fumikage, Izuku Midoriya, Shoto Todoroki, Katsuki Bakugou, Eijiro Kirishima, Hitoshi Shinso (maybe more) x f! Reader.

Content: 18+, multiple partners, cuckholding (I guess), fingering, oral, penetration, degradation, biting, hair pulling

Note from Zombi: this is an extended version of a reblog I did based off @saturnsorbits 💋

“Han-,” you whined as his pace slowed.

“Sorry, Sweetness, I need a break,” he panted, fingers replacing his cock.

“But, Haaaaantaaaa,” you bucked your hips into his touch.

“I know, babygirl, just hold on for me, yeah?” He cooed.

Pulling his fingers from your heat he opened the door to your bedroom, “Hey, uh, Fumikage, Kaminari, can uh can you guys help me with something?”

Your two roommates turned to look at your boyfriend, face flushed. “Uh, sure?” The blonde answered as he stood. But, when they reached your doorway they froze, both sharing a glance with your boyfriend.

“She’s insatiable and if I go any more my dick is going to fall off,” he chuckled.

Tokoyami’s face is heated, he’s watching you push your own fingers into your sex. He steps towards you first, glancing back at your boyfriend with hesitation. The nod from Sero all he needs before he’s on you, his own mouth on a hardened nipple while Dark Shadow is on the other.

You gasp when he replaces your fingers with his own, one at first, then two. “Fumi, please,” you whine at him. He grunts, as if to tell you to be patient, but when you buck your hips in response that’s it. He’s pushing your legs farther apart, freeing his already hard cock and teasing just the tip into you. With Dark Shadow still paying attention to the rest of your body, he pushes in as slowly as possible.

Before long he’s rutting into you recklessly, the way you’re squeezing him driving him mad. He won’t last much longer. His hand ghosts down your sides, fingers toying with your clit until you’re nothing but a mess for him. He manages to pull one more orgasm from you before spilling his seed into you.

Kaminari is stroking himself slowly, “I can keep up, come to the couch.” He motions for you to follow as he lays down on the L shaped sofa. “Sit,” he points to his face. And you obey, mostly, hovering above him. “I said sit,” he growls and pulls you down to him.

It only takes him a few minutes and he has you riding his tongue, lapping up your juices as you cum for him. “Good girl,” he groans, lifting you to sit on his lap. You tease him, dragging your slit over his length until he’s has enough and slams up into you.

You wail, but he takes no pity on you as he pistons his hip up. “Take it, you want to be satisfied, yeah?” His eyes are glazed, his moans matching yours.

He keeps this up for about an hour and a half before he fills you full of his own cum. Panting he lifts you off his cock carefully, kissing your head. “Tired,” he sighed as he stretches on the opposite end of the couch, fingers scratching at Fumikage’s scalp.

“Hantaaaa,” you whine desperate.

“More?” He sounds defeated in a way and you nod. “Lay down, sweetness,” and you do, rolling your hips as he pumps his long fingers into you. You hear the clacking on his phone, the whoosh and then not long after the doorbell.

“Be patient for me,” and he’s out of your sight. He opens the door, you hear him talking and then he’s back in your view. Behind him his friends are staring at your body with hungry gazes and red cheeks. He’s already explained the favor he needs. To make you tired, to satisfy you.

Shinso sits between your legs, calloused fingers dragging over your slit. “Be a good kitten for me,” he groans. You can’t stop your hips from bucking against him when he lifts you into his lap, needy whines coming from you. You can feel how close his cock is, you need him inside.

“Please, Shin,” your voice coming out in an almost whisper as you force your hips down on him.

“Shiiiit,” he grunts. He head falls back against the couch as you grind your hips against him, the feeling of his cock twitching inside of you pushing you to the edge again. And then he lifts your hips away from him, pinning you into a mating press.

You let out a wail, tears pricking your eyes at the loss of being full. With a smirk he slams back into you, his hips setting an ungodly pace. He has you screaming his name, cumming for him repeatedly before he lets himself go. Panting he shifts to allow the next hero to fill you.

Poor Izuku. His cock is practically on the brink of exploding just watching you. He flips you onto all fours, Shoto standing in front of you. The pair set an unforgiving pace, the green haired hero slamming into you and pushing you down on Shoto’s length. Shoto using your mouth for his own pleasure. Drool is dripping onto the floor, you’re trying your best to keep your mouth from spilling anything.

Shoto fills your mouth first, you swallow and open your mouth to show nothing left. Deku loses it when his friend whispers to you what a cock hungry pet you are. His cum fills you and you soak him one last time.

Bakugou wastes zero time lifting you away from his rival. He falls back on the couch, you in his lap As he buries himself in you. “So tight,” he groans. He’s lazy about it at first, letting you ride him as his fingers work your clit. You lean back, mouth falling into a O, nails digging into his chest. But, what really does it is seeing the ring of cream around his cock.

He pins you, legs folded to your chest as he fucks into you. He’s going to leave bruises, you know that, and it just drives you closer to your release again. “Baku-“ he cuts you off with a hard nip to your shoulder.

“Wrong name,” he grunts.

“Katsu,” you whimper, the sting of his teeth still present. The way he pounding into you, hitting your spongy spot with each thrust has your mind fuzzy.

“Good girl. Now show me how much you’re enjoying my cock. Show your little cuck boyfriend how much you enjoy it,” he practically growls. He keeps his pace until you’re cumming for him, once, twice, three times…four. And finally he lets himself let go, his cock twitching deliciously as he pants. He sits back, head resting on the back of the couch.

Kirishima is the next to lift you, wrapping your legs around his waist as he slides himself into your heat. He has more girth than the others, it burns, but you love it. The stretch has you clinging to him with sinful mewls falling from your lips.

You feel him walking, never letting up on how he’s bouncing you on his cock, and then he has you over the arm of the couch. Fingers gripping your hair with a gentleness you wouldn’t expect from him, given his size, as his hips never falter. “What a slutty little girlfriend you have, Han,” the red head grunts.

His free hand slides around your waist, circling your swollen clit. And he tugs a little harder on your hair when you moan his name, calling you a good girl and telling you to cream on his cock. You’re sure you’ve lost count of how many times he pulled an orgasm from you, your walls clenching him.

“Kiri, fill me up please,” you manage to beg loud enough for him to hear. But he holds out until you cum one more time for him. Finally his hips still, you moan again at the feeling. He lingers over you for a moment, Sero reaching up to twist and punch at your nipples before you’re lifted again by the redhead.

“Satisfied, Kitten?” Your boyfriend grins at you.

You shake your head, “N-no.” There’s tears in your eyes. The heroes all let out groan, what are they going to do with you now.

Edit: part 2.1 more heroes

Part 2.2 all the current ones

Highly considering a part 2.

#mha #mha smut #x reader #mha x reader #smut #hanta x reader #hanta sero #denki x reader #denki kaminari #fumikage tokoyami #tokoyami x reader #deku x reader #shoto x reader smut #bakugou x reader #kirishima x reader smut

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runawrites-blog · 3 months ago

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Knee Deep In The Passenger Seat (Deadpool x Reader)

Summary: You and Wade are trying very hard to keep your relationship casual, to stay friends while sleeping with one another, but things slowly start to drift away from being casual. (Female Reader) Word Count: 4,924 Warnings: SMUT (Minors Do Not Interact). Explicit Sexual Content. Oral. Angst. Hurt/Comfort. Light Fighting. Mentions of Stalking (NOT between Wade and the Reader). No Y/N. No Deadpool and Wolverine Spoilers. A/N: I'm aware that this is a wlw song but I thought it fit so well, so please bear with me here. Crossposted on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/58203475 NO SPOILERS.

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Knee deep in the passenger seat, and you’re eating me out Is it casual now?

It was supposed to be casual. It had always been supposed to be casual. But after months of casual dates you two had gone on under the guise of friendly get-togethers, after countless sexual encounters that had slowly merged from chasing release to intimate explorations of each others’ bodies, after going from seeing each other once every other week to being at one another’s places every other day, it didn’t feel as casual anymore.

You had noticed this before because you’d always been observant, and had seen you two progress away from being casual one encounter at the time. But it had taken you until now to realise that your feelings for Wade had changed, too. As he peered up at you through half-lidded eyes, face buried between your legs, you realised you may have fallen for him. When he saw your expression he pulled back, lower face covered in your juices and panting heavily.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” You quickly shook your head, giving him a reassuring smile. “I’ve just been lost in thought, don’t worry.”

“I’m putting my whole Deadpoolussy into eating you out and you’re lost in thought?” He asked in a faked offended tone. “I can’t believe it!”

You chuckled at his antics and reached out to cup his cheek. “I’m sorry, alright? Keep going, you’re doing such a good job. I’ll pay attention to you now.”

“I fucking hope so!”

Two weeks, and your mom invites me to her house on Long Beach Is it casual now?

No more than two weeks after you had realised your true feelings for Wade his roommate had invited you over for dinner. According to Wade, Al had encountered you briefly so many times she wanted to actually meet you. And that was how you’d ended up sitting at his kitchen table, the three of you eating take-out with Al and Wade bickering back and forth to each other.

“I invite your girl over and you call me an old cunt? No manners with you!”

“You are an old cunt!”

“And you’re a little bitch but you don’t see me calling you that, do you now?” She bickered back at him, shaking her head and tutting at his grumbling before she turned back to you. “Is he like this with you, too? Don’t be afraid to put him in his place once in a while!”

Their bickering had dragged on for so long that it had almost lulled you into a small trance and you startled a little when you were addressed. “Huh? Oh yeah, he’s like this with me, too. But don’t worry I know how to shut him up.”

“Good.” Al praised you before pointing her fork at Wade. “Treat your girlfriend with some respect, Wade!”

This was definetely not casual. You two had never labeled your relationship and now Al was calling you Wade’s girlfriend. And you were trying your hardest to ignore the flutter in your stomach at those words. Next to you, Wade shook his head and laughed a little, putting a hand on your thigh.

“She’s not my girlfriend, Al. What we got is casual.” He explained, squeezing your thigh under the table and looked back at you. “Right?”

“Right.”

I know what you tell your friends It’s casual, if it’s casual now Then, baby, get me off again If it’s casual, it’s casual now

“Hey, Yukio!”

“Hey, Wade!” She waved back just as excitedly before she grinned happily at you. “Hey, Wade’s girlfriend!”

Wade chuckled at that and touched your waist, pulling you close. “Yukio, she’s not my girlfriend. We got something casual going on and I think labels like that would make it way too uncasual.”

“Uncasual is not a word, you dumb fuck.” Negasonic rolled her eyes before nodding toward you. “And leave it to a dumbass like you to not make it official when he’s found someone that puts up with him.”

“She doesn’t mind, you twerp.” Wade replied and squeezed your hip a little tighter before looking back at you. “Right, Hon?”

“Sure.”

You pointedly ignored the frown overtaking Wade’s features as he heard your tone of voice because you knew you hadn’t sounded as casual as you’d wanted to. When Colossus came in, greeting you two you quickly ducked away from Wade to give the other mutant a pat on the shoulder, greeting him with a small smile.

“So, you called us over because you needed our help.” You stated, feeling Wade’s gaze practically burn into the back of you head as you looked up at Colossus. “What can we do for you?”

“Glad you ask.” Colossus said and stretched out his arm to show you where to go. “You two can follow me and I’ll show you.”

“Perfect!”

Colossus left and you followed him, silently cursing yourself for how you’d failed at keeping this casual, for how you’d now probably outed your feelings for Wade to him. But you kept following Colossus, glad that whatever he needed help with would at least keep you and Wade occupied for now. Behind you Wade happily said goodbye to Yukio and you couldn’t help but smile at the sweet way he always interacted with her and how caring he was toward Negasonic, as well. After saying goodbye to the other teen you heard his footsteps picking up speed as he followed you.

Dumb love, I love being stupid Dream of us in a year Maybe we’d have an apartment

This was bad. Wade slowly sat up in his bed, swallowing thickly as his eyes flicked back to you, fast asleep next to him. He knew it was less than casual to let you stay after having sex but he’d always been one for rash decisions and when he’d had you panting in his arms, revelling in post-orgasmic bliss, he hadn’t really thought twice about letting you stay -- not that he often thought twice about things.

Now he was sitting in the dark, trying to make sense of his dream while the subject of said dream lay beside him. And really, a dream of you two living together in domestic bliss seemed way too Disney-esque for him but he couldn’t help but let himself enjoy the thought for a few seconds before he caught himself. There was a reason he’d wanted to keep this casual. As self sacrifical and overdramatic as it made him sound, he knew you were too good for him and the last thing he wanted was for you to settle for him.

Wade’s self depreciating thoughts were interrupted when you turned around to wrap your arms around his waist and he felt as though he was in a sappy romcom, about to get whisked of his glass slippers by his prince charming -- or in other words he felt happy. Gingerly, he lowered himself back down and wrapped his arms around you.

This was supposed to be casual. And he didn’t know why he couldn’t keep it that way.

Knee deep in the passenger seat, and you’re eating me out Is it casual now?

Your pretty eyes flicked up to look at him, gaze full of adoration, and Wade felt his insides turn the way only a knife in his stomach could make him feel. Cursing under his breath as you bobbed your head along his length, one hand squeezing his balls just the right way and the other grabbing onto his thigh. And now the tables had turned because he was so deep in his head that he couldn’t even properly enjoy this.

You gave him a questioning look, eyebrows furrowing as you started moving faster, obviously trying to get a reaction out of him and Wade brought a hand down to grasp at your hair, moaning lowly as he tried to will his thoughts away.

“You’re so good at this, fuck.”

A proud expression overcame your features as best as it could with a dick in your mouth and Wade groaned when he hit the back of your throat. Your hand let go of his thigh and he watched as you tightly squeezed your left thumb in your hand in what he knew was an attempt to fight of your gag reflex -- he’d have to ask you sometime whether or not that actually worked.

“You’re so fucking good at this, like you were made for it, like two American and one Japanese tourists were made for being sewn ass to mouth to-- to each other!”

A small amused huff of air through your nose made Wade look down, finding you rolling your eyes with such an affectionate expression, like you always did when he made a dumb joke, that he felt his chest clench more than his hole did when he saw you naked. And in that moment he realised what he was feeling.

He was in love with you.

Two weeks, and your mom invites me to her house on Long Beach Is it casual now?

“Remind me again why your mom invited me over for brunch?”

“I was on the phone with her and I needed to get going because you were waiting for me. I made the mistake of saying that I was meeting Wade.” You explained, parking your car by your mother’s place. “Now she thinks we’re dating and I can’t stand her bugging me about meeting you anymore.”

Wade didn’t even find it in himself to correct you, to tell you that you two were in fact not dating and that, coupled with the fact that he was actually going to have brunch, made him feel like he was in a cheesy romcom and not an action movie. Instead he patted you on the leg and then got out of the car, waiting for you to lead the way.

Your mother seemed excited to meet him, pulling him into a bone crushing hug which was almost tight enough that it made him happy to have regenerative powers. But he had to admit that the brunch was nice. The food was good, your mother was friendly and never commented on his looks or his vocabulary. And when your hand came down on his tigh which he knew was to reprimand him for a particularly inappropriate joke by squeezing it in warning he couldn’t help reaching down and taking it. Yet he pointedly ignored the look that you gave him.

“You have an interesting humour, Wade.” Your mother coughed, having chocked on her drink because of his joke. “But my daughter isn’t any better, so I guess you’re a nice fit.”

“Mom, I told you, Wade and I are not dating.”

“By the sound of it you’re doing all sort of less innocent things with him, he holds your hand, he pulls back your chair for you and he comes to have brunch with your mother.” She said, amusement on her features as she shook her head. “And you young people nowadays don’t call that dating or a relationship?”

“Mom, don’t start with this again.”

“I won’t, don’t worry, Pumpkin.”

“Oh, I’m so using that nickname against you.” Wade joked, giving you a grin and his smile only grew when you rolled your eyes affectionately. “I love finding new ways to annoy you.”

“I’ll get you back for that, Wade.” You smirked before turning back to your mother with a small smile. “But thank you for dropping it, Mom. We’re not in a relationship and that’s that on that.”

“I just wonder what else you two would have to do until this would constitute a relationship.”

It’s hard being casual When my favorite bra lives in your dresser

“Come back to bed, Hon.”

“I have things to do.” You chastised Wade weakly, averting eye contact with him because you knew you wouldn’t be able to resist him for long if you turned around to look at him, splayed out on his bed with his legs spread invitingly. “Have you seen my bra?”

“The one you were wearing when you came over? No, I haven’t.” Wade shrugged before pointing at his dresser. “But you got another one stashed in my dresser.”

Once more you were reminded of how quickly you two were leaving the territory of a casual relationship, of friends with benefits, because when you opened the drawer you saw that not only was it one of your bras but that it was your favourite bra. You only realised that you had frozen when you felt a pair of arms wrap around you from behind and a head came down on your shoulder.

“If you’re just going to stand there like a pony figurine in a mason jar you might as well come back to bed.” Wade joked, leaning down to nip at your neck. “And then I can really make you feel like a figurine in a mason jar.”

“If you make one more cum jar joke, I will kick you in the balls.”

“You’re grinning as you’re threatening me.” Wade laughed softly, poking his finger into your side accusatory. “Don’t even pretend that you don’t find me funny.”

Rolling your eyes affectionately at his antics you resigned yourself to the fate of Wade dragging you back to bed. Maybe being in love with him wasn’t so bad, maybe it was fine to feel not only aroused by his touch but also feel your stomach flutter. If only you had the balls to tell him how you felt.

And it’s hard being casual When I’m on the phone talking down your sister

Unbeknownst to you, Wade was having the exact same crisis that came to and acme the night you two had to help your sister. She’d called in a panic, crying on the phone and going on about how her ex-boyfriend had broken into her apartment, demanding her back, and how she had just about managed to lock herself in her bedroom. Before you could assure her that you were on your way, she screamed on the other end of the line, screeching about how her boyfriend was trying to break down the door.

The line went dead and you let the phone sink into your lap, eyes looking up at Wade’s concerned face in the armchair opposite you. You didn’t let him get a word out before you were on your feet, rushing to put your shoes on. He came after you, pulling on his boots and asking you what was happening as you made your way down the stairs to your car. Quickly, you explained the situation and he grabbed your wrist before you could get into the car.

“Let go of me. I need to help my sister.”

“I know and you will. But I’m coming with you.” He said, shushing you with a finger to your face when you opened your mouth to argue. “When you’re hooking up with the Merc with a Mouth, you get the mouth but also the mercenary. Let’s go!”

Within the next ten minutes, you were at your sister��s place and as soon as you’d made it to her door, Wade was pushing you aside to kick it down. You found her ex-boyfriend Hunter by the door to the bedroom, hammering on it and you watched as Wade marched over. He grabbed Hunter around the throat and pulled him away, slamming him into a nearby wall. It didn’t even occur to Wade that beating up your sister’s stalker and making sure you both were safe was the furthest thing from casual he could think of because Hunter grabbed onto his arms in anger and startled him from his thoughts.

“Who the fuck are you?”

“I’ll be the last fucking thing you see if you don’t leave that woman alone!” He snapped at Hunter and you almost gasped in surprise when Wade pulled a knife from hs pocket, flicking it open and holding it to the other man’s cheek. “Go on, test me!”

Snapping out of your stupor you rushed over to the bedroom door and knocked on it. “Sis, it’s me. Open up the door. Wade’s got Hunter under control, so you’re safe.”

When your sister opened the door, you saw the tears running down her face and you immediately drew her into a tight embrace. Hunter tried to get lose but Wade flicked the knife around and stabbed him in the thigh, making the man howl out in pain. You turned your sister around, getting your body in between her and Hunter.

“Will you leave her alone or do you want to find out where else I can shove my knife?”

“Get off me!”

“Not good enough!” Wade slammed Hunter down to the floor, his knee pressing him down. “Hon, tell him that I’m not joking around. Tell him what I did to the last guy who thought it would be a good idea to stalk and harass innocent women!”

Holding your crying sister tighter you fixed Hunter with a determined stare. “I can’t tell you the details because I don’t want to traumatise my poor sister but let’s just say it wasn’t pretty and that guy isn’t pretty anymore, either!”

“I’m sorry.” Hunter cried out, face covered in blood and tears in his eyes. “I won’t talk to her again, I promise. Please, believe me!”

Wade pulled Hunter off the floor and dragged him to the door, throwing him into the hallway and making him collide with the opposite wall. “If I hear that you as much as looked at her again, I will come and find you. You don’t want that.”

Hunter nodded and scrambled off the floor, running down the hallway and Wade slammed the door shut, pulling up a chair to hook under the handle and barricade it. Then he turned back to you and your sister, finding her still crying and you trying to comfort her.

“I’m being serious. If he harasses you again, call me. Your sister can give you my number.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

“I’m so glad my sister’s boyfriend is a damn mercenary.”

Wade caught your eyes for a second and shook his head. “I’m not her boyfriend. This is a casual thing.”

“But you must have already been staying at her place to-- to even know what was going on and-- and you came over with her to help. How is that casual?”

“It just is!”

The look of hurt that crossed your face wasn’t lost on Wade but before he could speak up you did. “What’s your problem?”

“How can we keep this casual when I’m going to brunch with your mom, blind Al invites you over for dinner every-- every week, when you keep clothes at my place, when-- when I can’t stop thinking about the way you look at me?” He rambled, catching himself a little too late and shaking his head. “Fuck, I can’t do this anymore!”

You stared at Wade for a few long seconds, a range of emotions passing your face, from hurt over anger to hopelessness, and he felt terrible for making you feel like that. He was in love with you, as cheesy as it sounded, and he’d made you feel so horrible. This was the exact reason why he couldn’t be with you. He made you feel like that.

“What are you saying we should do?”

“I need some space.”

And I try to be the chill girl That holds her tongue and gives you space

Giving Wade space was the hardest thing you’d done in a while, harder than taking down a crime syndicate, harder than fighting bad guys that wanted to take over the world and harder than stopping an alien invasion. Everything reminded you of him, from the spot on your kitchen counter he’d always sit on, over the way your passenger seat was always all the way back to allow for either of you to sit in the leg room and the shoes he’d left in your doorway the last time he’d come over, to his smell that still lingered on the pillow he used when he slept at your place.

You were so in love with Wade and being without him was tearing you apart.

So on a particularly lonely evening, with rain pouring down outside your windows, two weeks after you two had separated, you called him up. You tried to sound casual as you suggested coming over for sex, but you knew he would likely see right through you. As casual as you tried to make this hangout sound you knew the weight behind it. But he still agreed to come over, his voice sounding as casual as ever as he said he’d be over in half an hour.

Your doorbell rang only ten minutes later.

And this whole thing started again, the two of you sleeping with each other, promising one another that this time it would be casual because neither of you wouldn’t want to ruin your friendship. But you knew it was a damn lie and you just waited on how long it would take for things to fall apart this time around.

I try to be the chill girl But honestly, I’m not

The fourth time Wade came over after you two had started your strange kind of relationship again was when he knew this would be impossible to keep casual. You tried your best and he could tell but it wasn’t just you who made it impossible. He had also missed you a lot and now that he was back with you he felt his feelings only growing.

Everything reminded him of how much he was in love with you. From watching you make breakfast in his kitchen, over the grin you flashed him whenever he made a dirty joke to the way you held onto him when you slept over at his place.

He tried to keep things casual but he knew he couldn’t and it became clear when your mother invited you two out for dinner so he could meet your father. And once more, at your mother’s insistence, you’d agreed.

“Why would you say yes? We just agreed to try to keep this casual and you tell your mom I’ll meet your father?”

“I’m sorry, you know how she is. It’s just dinner at the diner downtown. It’s casual.”

“It’s not!”

“Because you can’t keep it casual! My parents have had dinner with casual friends of mine too many times to count, so why can’t they have dinner with you and me?” You snapped and he glared at your accusation that this all was his fault, even though it partially was. “If you don’t want to come to dinner with me and my parents then don’t!”

“This is making it impossible for me to keep it casual!”

“No one is fucking forcing you to come to dinner!”

“Good, because I won’t come!”

I fucked you in the bathroom when we went to dinner Your parents at the table, you wonder why I'm bitter

He still showed up on time, wearing a brightly coloured button-down. The look of sheer surprise on your face made him almost laugh but he didn’t, still upset after your fight, though he didn’t know what he was even this upset about. He knew that it was most likely because he would never dare to take the next step, too convinced that he was no good for you -- after all, who would want to date a mercenary with a ton of emotional baggage that killed people? But he also felt bitter because he knew that he had been so adamant about keeping this casual that you would never take that step, either.

But the dinner went by nicely, without anyone asking strange questions and with your parents eventually getting distracted talking to an old friend they’d just happened to meet at the diner. He felt your hand on his thigh, creeping upwards, and raised an eyebrow at you to which he only got a small smirk. It didn’t really surprise him because you two had fucked in public bathrooms many times before but never at a restaurant, so your interest in this made part of him rear up in interest.

So when you excused yourself to the bathroom, he waited a few more minutes before declaring that he would get another drink and on his way to the waiter he made a detour, sneaking into the bathroom after you. And before long he had you propped against the wall, one leg hooked over his waist as he pounded into you. One of your hands grabbed onto his neck while the other covered your own mouth. He kept quiet by biting and nibbling on your neck, leaving deep purple marks and making you glad you’d worn a turtleneck that day.

“Come on, come for me.” He urged you on, placing kisses up and down your neck. “Come on my dick, like a good girl.”

You whimpered quietly at his words before taking your and from your mouth, letting it join your other hand on the back of his neck and pulling him in for a deep kiss. Strangely it wasn’t the quiet praise you mumbled against his lips as he hit just the right spot or your sweet kiss that broke the camel's back. It was your nails gently carding down the back of his neck that did it, making Wade once more very aware of how he could never have you.

It was a fate he was choosing for himself -- he knew that and he didn’t need any of the readers calling him out on it -- but it was nonetheless upsetting. You gasped in surprise when he pulled out and set you down, letting your skirt fall from where it had bundled up around your hips.

“What’s wrong?”

“I can’t do this anymore and I know I’ve said this before but I really can’t. I’ve tried and I can’t.” He shook his head as he dressed himself again, watching you do the same. “I can’t keep this casual.”

“Wade, please don’t leave.”

“This is for your own good.”

“You don’t get to decide what’s best for me.”

“Just get out of here, you dumb animal!”

“If you fucking pull a ‘White Fang’ on me now, I will lose it.”

“’White Fang’? I was quoting Spongebob!” Wade defended himself but then shook his head because this was not the discussion he wanted to have. “Let’s just end this.”

With that, he left and he felt his heart actually ache for you as he heard your footsteps hurrying after him, calling out for him to stop. He heard the tears in your voice as he left the room, as he ignored the staff threatening to ban you from the diner for hooking up in the bathroom and as he heard your parents calling after you to stop you from leaving. But he kept going, knowing this was better for you or at least convincing himself that it was. And when he got into his old run-down car and pulled out of the parking lot, he saw you standing by the entrance, crying your eyes out.

I hate that I let this drag on so long

You had never been a quitter, never one to back down from a fight and you knew it wouldn’t surprise Wade when you knocked on his door not even half an hour later. He opened the door, opening his mouth to tell you to leave again but you dove in to kiss him, grabbing his head with both your hands and pulling him close to your body. And to your surprise he kissed you back for a fraction of a second before he shoved you off again, shaking his head and waving his hands around. But you didn’t give him a chance to speak because you were faster.

“I love you, Wade!”

“You’re fucking with me right now, aren’t you?”

“No, I’m not.” You said sternly, grabbing his hands and making him look at you. “I was such a damn moron letting this whole casual thing drag on for so long because I was too much of a pussy to tell you, but I love you.”

Wade blinked at you and opened his mouth to speak before closing it again, then repeating the process a few more times. If this situation hadn’t been so serious you would have laughed at how you had successfully managed to shut him up. But the quiet was making you nervous so you spoke up again.

“Please, just say something. I can handle rejection, too. But please, say something.”

“I love you, too!” He almost yelled, blinking in surprise at his outburst before quickly continuing. “But we can’t be together. You know, I don’t want this to be some stupid romcom cliche but this really is for your own good. I’m a mercenary, even if I’ve saved the world or some people a few times, and I’m terrible with feelings and you’ve seen yourself how bad I am at communicating.”

“So what?”

“So what if you’re bad at communicating, you’re bad at feelings and you kill people? I still love you and I want to be with you, for real, without anything casual. Please, let me decide for myself what’s good for me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Never been more sure of anything before.” You smiled, looking back at him. “Does that mean we’re no longer trying to just be casual?”

“Never again.”

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joelslastofus · 10 months ago

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[SUMMARY: Joel takes your virginity without knowing it’s your first time and gets a little too rough.]

Smut, big age difference

“I was rough with you. I wouldn’t have just shoved myself in you so damn selfishly had I known it would hurt you.”

It had been a month since you met Joel and Ellie and began staying with them at a cabin. Ellie and you both got along great but Joel didn’t seem to like having you around.

Ellie sat at the table eating food you had made while Joel unexpectedly grabbed his shot gun and made his way to the door.

“Where are you going?” You asked confused.

“Check the perimeter” he responded without looking up at you.

“I can help-“

“No, you’re staying inside” his response was cold as usual.

“Joel, I know how to use a gun. I’m not a little girl” you argued before turning away, his eyes quickly taking a glance of your backside with the corner of his eye. Joel knew you weren’t no little girl, regardless of the age difference you had with him he knew that you were a grown woman. A grown woman he was attracted to.

Hell, it was the whole reason the man couldnt bare keeping himself around you. It had been years since Joel felt an attraction with a woman like this. But Joel had never been with someone so young and he knew his mind wasn’t the best for you. He didn’t know too much about you but one thing he did notice was there was an innocence to you he didn’t have. He felt it was better to keep his distance. In his mind, Joel didn’t want to ruin you.

“You’re just gonna have to listen to what I say” Joel finally responded low as he grabbed his belongings and left the front door.

Ellie watched curiously as you frustratedly threw your spoon and followed him out.

“What the hell is your issue with me?” Your voice making him turn to find you with a hand on your hip, God it took everything in him to control where his eyes looked.

“Get inside” was all he could say.

“You know, you treat me so unfairly since I’ve been here. I’m twenty two years old not some twelve year old-“

“I ain’t gonna tell you again” he cut you off turning away from you. Angrily you walked off slamming the door shut giving up at this point.

A while had gone by and Ellie went up the stairs to sleep at the top open floor. You watched from downstairs as she got under the covers and within a few minutes she was asleep.

It was getting late and you wondered where the hell Joel was just as he suddenly opened the door and walked in. He froze at the sight of you by the couch noticing you were wearing his flannel button shirt big enough to stop right above your knees.

“What the hell are you wearing?” His heart racing at the sight before him, all you were doing was making this harder for him to ignore.

“Ellie gave me this, I put my clothes to wash earlier,“ as you spoke he dropped his stuff to the floor without taking his eyes off you, making his way closer to you.

“I’m-I’m sorry” you began to speak nervously as he got closer, towering over you.

“I had nothing else” you continued to explain when he wrapped his arm around your waist and abruptly pulled you against him. You gasped, confused yet intrigued as he brushed his hand against the side of your neck, digging beneath your hair. He looked at you for a moment knowing damn well he was completely giving in and pulled your neck towards him kissing you, taking you by complete shock. You quickly wrapped your arms around him as he began to guide you to the couch behind you, both of you falling onto it as he placed himself between your legs.

He moved quickly which actually excited you, his body was so big next to yours his legs hung off the side of the couch. He seemed like he was in a trance, not saying a word he reached between your bodies and unbuckled his pants pulling them down far enough to expose his erect cock. The man hadn’t even taken off his jacket and he didn’t care. His breathing was heavy now reaching between your legs to pull aside the thin layer of fabric of your underwear. You were a virgin and hadn’t told him a thing, hell you didn’t want to and that’s when you felt the tip of him pressing against your entrance before he thrusted his hips and fully entered you abruptly. You whimpered grabbing onto his jacket, he leaned his face in the crook of your neck as he thrusted again making you wince. You knew sex would hurt but you never knew it would feel like this. A rough sound escaping his lips, Joel felt how tight you were but couldn’t stop himself from plunging into you again and again. Lifting his head up to look down at you he noticed a distinct look in your eyes that he couldn’t make out. Shock? Confusion? The last thing you wanted him to suspect in this moment was that he had just taken your virginity…painfully, and so you tugged at his jacket pulling him in close for a kiss.

Joel dug his hand into your hair pulling at it hard before he thrusted again making you gasp. Each stroke a little less painful than the last and before you knew it, it slowly started to feel good. From the moment he met you, Joel couldn’t stop thinking about having you, feeling you, touching you, he fought it off the best he could. But here he was, on top of you burying himself inside you and you didn’t want him to stop. Feeling you grab onto him with each movement he made only aroused him more when an unexpected moan escaped your lips loudly. Surprising yourself Joel quickly placed his had on your mouth, thrusting deeper feeling you pulsate around him. Remembering that Ellie was asleep right upstairs he kept his hand on your mouth as he began to move faster. Your legs wrapping tightly around him wanting to feel him closer than ever. His eyes locking with yours as you felt a sensation you had never felt before, he watched your eyes roll back and your body shake beneath him. A muffled moan as he squeezed his hand tighter over your lips.

“Shhh” he whispered still moving his body fast against yours. You nodded panting beneath him as he released his hand from your mouth with only one stroke left in him, he quickly got on his knees and came on your inner thigh. Never had you seen a man cum before, watching as he leaned his head back squeezing his eyes shut, more cum spilling out of him. It took everything in him not to make a sound. He sat back on the couch next to your legs trying to catch his breath before grabbing a rag close by and silently passing it to you.

“Thank you” you whispered as he cleaned himself up and quickly got up. Buckling his pants you watched as he walked to the door, you furrowed your brows confused trying to quickly put yourself together when he just walked out.

Knowing Ellie was asleep upstairs, you didn’t bother calling out for him but quickly got up wrapping a sweater around your waist.

Joel had his back to you staring out into the dark when you quietly closed the door behind you.

“Are you kidding me? You just walk out?”

He didn’t respond.

“Hello?”

“I shouldn’t have done that” he uttered low without turning to you.

“Ok well you did and….I loved it-“

“Well it ain’t happenin’ again. Drop it”

“Excuse me?” You walked over to him quickly making you feel a soreness between your legs you had never felt.

“Ow” you quickly stopped standing awkwardly in place as Joel looked over at you.

“What’s wrong? I hurt you?” His sudden concern surprising you a bit.

“No. It’s just..I mean-“

“It’s just what?” He asked with a hint of annoyance in his voice.

“That…that was my first time, Joel” you could see the color almost drain from his face.

“Oh Jesus” he whispered.

“Why didn’t you tell me, dammit?!”

“Why are you getting mad?” You asked with confusion.

“You think I would’ve-“ he caught his voice getting loud and took a deep breath.

“You think I would’ve taken you like that on the damn couch if I knew that?”

“So what, I’m fine” you assured him.

“That’s why you were looking at me like that” he remembered the look in your eyes that he couldn’t explain. He remembered how hard he first entered you and cursed at himself. Each stroke pushing deep. It explained why you looked at him so shocked never having felt that before.

“I didn’t even give you a damn chance-“

“A chance for what?”

“I was rough with you. I wouldn’t have just shoved myself in you so damn selfishly had I known it would hurt you.”

“Joel so what? I was the one who didn’t tell you. It felt good after and I never knew I could feel something like that. I can’t explain what I felt, I don’t know what you did but that feeling…” you suddenly looked away almost losing your breath just thinking about how your body shook. Joel watched as you slowly got lost into that moment, your lips parting, hell it was beginning to arouse him all over.

“I don’t know what it was but-“

“I made you cum, darling” his voice completely distracting your thoughts.

“You made me what?”

He slowly walked towards you as you looked up at him innocently. His hand slowly caressing your cheek as his thumb found your bottom lip.

“I made you cum” he slid his finger into your mouth watching as you slowly closed your lips around it when suddenly the sound of the door opening made you both quickly back away from each other to find Ellie coming out.

“Oh man, how long was I asleep for?” Joel quickly turned back towards the woods.

“Not too long” you responded walking back to the house.

“Is there more food left? I’m kinda hungry?” She asked turning back inside with you. You nodded as you let her in front of you before looking back at Joel. You knew he wanted you again, but this time he wanted to take his time with you, he wanted to do it the right way.

Maybe just once more, he thought to himself. Whatever this was you knew it was only the beginning.

#pedro pascal #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller fan fic #the last of us fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut

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the-fiction-witch · 4 months ago

Text

Power Couple

Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Daemon Targaryen Couple - Daemon X Reader Reader - Princess Y/n (Daemons Wife) Rating - Smut Word Count - 2704

Anonymous asked:

More of matt smith characters fics plss🙏🏼🫶

Daemon woke very hungover to the sound of his bed chamber door being slammed shut, he groaned and slowly sat up on the bed, rubbing his eyes. His head ached as he slowly opened his eyes with a frown on his face. "What do you want?" Daemon said, irritated as he looked up,

Y/n his long-suffering wife stood at the edge of his bed in her long black gown, her arms crossed and a firm look on her face, "I need to talk to you,"

Daemon groaned and ran a hand through his messy hair. He was already irritated at the fact that she dared to come to the bed chamber when he was nursing a hangover, "And what is it that you want to talk about, hm?" He said, the irritation evident in his voice already blocking her voice out in his mind,

But Y/n was far smarter than that, she could tell he’d already shut her voice out, but she knew how to force him to pay attention to her. So she moved the sheets away from his body, given his hangover he was far too slow to argue with her. She hitched up her dress and sat on his lap resting her hands on his loose shirt, "A raven came, from Kings Landing… from your brother."

Daemon's annoyance grew he was already irritated from last night's drinking. For a moment, he thought of pushing her off, but the mention of his brother made him pause. He was angry at his brother and wanted nothing to do with him. "What did my prick of a brother say?"

"He is requesting you to go to King's Landing, he has a new position to offer you, apparently. Raven didn't say what," she explained as she shifted on his lap grinding gently against his morning wood,

Daemon groaned in annoyance but didn't push her away. The irritation on his face slowly faded with the deliberate teasing and grinding. "A new position, huh? That prick..." He muttered under his breath. He reached out and grabbed her hips tightening their bodies, "And what do you suggest I do?" He asked, his voice less harsh. He was starting to pay attention to her, despite his attempts not to.

"I would suggest you make it an event" She shifted a little sitting up and unlacing his britches before she slowly let him slip inside her, "Go on Caraxes and make a show of it, for your brother and the lord's. Hear his offer and then come back here to think of over," she explained as she slowly shifted her hips to ride him,

With a faint gasp, Daemon's grip on her hips tightened, the irritation had almost disappeared, replaced by a mix of desire and frustration. "Make a show of it, hm..." Daemon muttered through gritting teeth, his eyes flickering between her face and the movement of her hips.

"I'm not saying accept it. You know it'll be awful, and it would mean staying in the red keep. But listen to his offer atleast"

His grip on her hips loosened a little, Daemon knew she was right, and he didn't want to admit it. But he could no longer deny the effect her presence had on him. "Mm..." He mumbled breathlessly, his eyes never leaving her face. "And what if... What if the offer is intriguing?"

"Even so come back here to dragonstone and think it over. I'd nothing else to keep him waiting " she explained gasping as she moved faster

A low moan escaped Daemon's lips as she picked up the pace, his fingers digging into her hips again. He was getting more and more lost in the pleasure of her movements. "You make a good point..." He panted, trying to maintain his demeanor despite the growing desire that was slowly taking over him. His eyes darkened with lust as he watched her closely, his breaths growing more ragged. "Keep going..." He whispered his voice almost a growl as he gave into the pleasure. His eyes were fixated on her face, watching her every expression as she continued to slowly ride him, causing him to let out another low moan. "We can talk more later..."

she nodded and moved faster as she was already close

Daemon's grip on her hips only tightened even more, helping her move faster on his lap. "Damnit, you're so eager for me today, aren't you?" He groaned softly, his eyes darkening with desire. His breaths grew ragged as he watched her closely, his heart racing and his body aching with need for her. He was trying to hold back his moans, but it was becoming increasingly difficult. He didn't want to give her the satisfaction of knowing how much he was enjoying this, but he was quickly losing any semblance of control.

"Can you blame me... You've ignored me for three weeks"

Daemon was about to object and deny, but he couldn't. He could feel the weight of his neglect over the past weeks. "I've been... Busy, you know that." He said, his voice barely above a whisper as he struggled to form words through his ragged breaths. He was close too, his body tensing under her and he held her hips with almost bruising force.

"busy with your whores." She glared

Daemon winced at her glare, unable to deny the truth of her words. "I've... needed a distraction, you know that." He muttered, looking away from you for a brief moment. He didn't want to admit it, but he felt a pang of guilt in his chest. He knew it was wrong, but the guilt was quickly replaced by the growing pleasure of her movement on top of him.

"am I not distracting?" She asked moaning softly

Daemon's body tensed even more and he let out a deep guttural moan, "Ah... you're distracting enough to make me forget my name right now.” He panted, his grip on her hips still firm as he held her close, his breaths coming in short gasps and moans now.

she grabbed his neck and pulled him into a kiss as she moaned and reached her orgasm squeezing around him and trembling a little,

Daemon couldn't resist. He melted into the kiss, their mouths clashing together hungrily as his tongue entered her mouth. At the same time, the moment she reached her peak, he let out another deep moan against her lips, "Ah, damnit..." He groaned, his body tensing as he followed her over the edge, gripping her hips tightly and holding her tightly against him.

As the pleasure began to subside, a heavy silence blanketed the room. The only sounds were their ragged breaths as they slowly came back to their senses. Daemon didn't want to let her go, despite his irritation earlier. He tightened his grip on her hips pulling her to his chest, His eyes searched her face, his expression a mix of desire and guilt. There was a long pause before he spoke, his voice hoarse and low. "I've been a damned fool, haven't I?"

"yes... You have... But... Still… your brother" she gasped,

Daemon sighed, looking away and breaking the intense eye contact for a moment. He slowly loosened his grip on her hips, his fingers tracing small circles on them as he reluctantly shifted back into his usual irritated persona."Fine..." He muttered, his voice taking on that familiar tinge of irritation. "I'll go to King's Landing... and I will listen to my prick of a brother's words."

"thank you," she nodded between gasps "I'll have the maester send a raven that you're coming," she said climbing off and lying on the bed,

Daemon let out a soft hiss, feeling the absence of her warmth and body against him. Despite his usual stoicism, he couldn't help the slight pang of disappointment. "Mm..." He mumbled, letting out a soft sigh as he shifted back on the bed and lay next to her. Daemon was quiet for a moment before he spoke again, his voice quieter than before. "I'll be back as soon as possible..."

"... Will you be taking your lady friend?" She asked her tone pointed

Daemon froze at her question, his body tensing. He knew he had it coming and he couldn't blame her for being jealous, but he still felt his usual irritation creeping up within him. "Don't start." He said, his voice low and sharp. "No, I won't be taking her. She means nothing to me, you know that." He said, his words almost harsh as he tried to brush off the implication behind her question.

She hummed staring at the ceiling,

The silence in the room was thick and uncomfortable. It was clear that neither of them were in the best of moods. Daemon was still lying next to her, his body tense and his gaze fixed on the ceiling. The irritation was still visible, but there was also a hint of tiredness in his expression. Eventually, he spoke again, his voice softer this time. "You know it's just meaningless carnal pleasure, right? I don't care for her the way I care for you."

"I wasn't aware you cared for me?" her tone as sharp as a knife,

That was a direct hit and Daemon flinched slightly at her words. He could sense the hurt behind her voice and knew he had it coming. He stayed quiet for a moment, refusing to look at her still. When he spoke again, his voice was less harsh, almost tired. "I... I do care for you, dammit." He muttered, his fingers clenching the sheets beneath him.

"shouldn't her wife be for your carnal pleasure?"

Daemon let out a frustrated sigh, his jaw clenching again as he turned to look at her, "You don't understand it, do you? You're my wife by name, but we both know this marriage was arranged. You're a different kind of woman, and I have different needs-" His voice trailed off, his gaze locking with hers, his eyes trying to convey the truth behind his words, his own inner struggle clear in his expression.

"such as?"

Daemon clenched his jaw again, hesitating before answering. He could see the hurt in her eyes and it only made him more frustrated with himself. But he spoke truthfully, his voice thick with a hint of guilt. "You're not the kind of woman I need. You're sweet, kind, fragile. And I... need more..." He paused, unable to keep eye contact. He looked away for a moment before glancing back at you, his gaze hardening. "You're not strong, you're not fiery, you're not the kind of woman who can handle me."

"... Which one of us just walked in and took the other without even asking?"

Daemon froze as she threw back at him. He had no defense, because deep down, he knew she was right. He couldn't deny it, but he desperately tried to keep up his irritable act. "That's... different," he muttered through clenched teeth,

"is it?" She chuckled "Daemon I am your wife... Whatever you want I will do. You know that I've never kept that a secret... And oddly enough I am sick of being sneared at. People talk at court... That you so rarely share my bed, make no secret of your whores, don't you think that's humiliating for me?"

Daemon was silent for a moment, his jaw clenched and his mind working through her words. He knew she was right, and he hated himself for it. He hadn't really considered how his actions would affect her, how the court would talk behind her back. And to think he had never bothered to ask … "I... didn't..." He muttered weakly, unsure how to respond.

"you know I am willing to do whatever it is you ask of me ... There should only be two possible desires you can have that I would not be able for forfill for you. Both involve putting a sword in your hand...And both of those I would assist as much as I could." She said before sitting up getting off the bed to straighten her dress "... Next time call for your wife. Not your whore.

Daemon watched, A mix of emotions flashed across his face as he listened to her words; frustration and guilt mixed with something else that he couldn't quite identify. He sat up on the bed, running a hand through his messy hair again. "You know it's not that simple," he muttered, his voice still low but less sharp.

"why not? Tell me why it isn't?" She asked

Daemon let out a frustrated sigh, frustrated at himself for getting himself in this situation and at her unrelenting questions. "You're not the kind of woman I need," he repeated, "You're fragile, delicate, soft. I need a woman with fire and passion, who can keep up with me and my needs-"

she slapped him across the cheek "Do not pretend you have any idea what kind of woman I am anymore"

Daemon's eyes widened in shock. He was caught completely off guard, not expecting such a strong reaction, He remained silent for a moment, his cheek stinging from the impact. He had never expected her to actually hit him, and it sent a mix of anger and guilt coursing through his body. Slowly, he rubbed his face a mixture of annoyance and guilt flickering in his expression."What was that for..." There was a hint of disbelief in his voice,

"we have been married for ten years. I am not the frightened shivering little maiden I was when I was dragged through King Landing to be your bride. Who cried her whole wedding night from fear. Who screamed and punched walls till my fingers broke when I failed to keep our son inside me…. I am not that woman anymore..."

Daemon's face softened and he was struck silent. His heart clenched with guilt, He looked up at her, his gaze meeting hers and his voice low and quiet. "I... hadn't realized."

"no, you haven't. Because you don't ask."

Daemon's face twisted into a look of guilt and regret as she spoke, her words piercing straight through him. He realized the truth in her words and the weight of his failure to truly know you hit him hard. She was right, he hadn't asked, he hadn't paid attention to the changes in her, the strength she had gained. He looked away for a moment, unable to meet her gaze, his jaw clenching. His voice was quiet, almost apologetic when he spoke again. "I should have asked."

"you should. But don't bother to dwell or cant be changed. So just... Do better from now on" she glared before she went to leave

Daemon watched in silence, his expression a mix of guilt and remorse. He knew he had messed up, and the realization hit him hard. "Wait." He said, his voice still low but with a hint of desperation. He got off the bed and walked over to her grabbing her arm gently,

she sighed turning back to him "Yes Daemon?"

Daemon looked at her, his gaze holding a mix of guilt and sincerity. "I... I want to be better," he said slowly, his words taking some hesitation. "I want to pay more attention to you, to learn about you again. I've been a damn fool, and I want to make it right."

"... Thank you, but actions speak louder then words"

Daemon nodded in agreement, recognizing that his words wouldn't be enough to make up for his failure as a husband. "You're right," he admitted, his voice still sounding a bit guilty and remorseful. He paused for a moment before continuing, his grip on her arm still gentle yet firm. "I'll prove it to you. I promise."

“I… will choose to trust you.” She nodded,

Suddenly an idea came to Daemon’s mind, “Come with me,”

“What?”

“To Kings Landing with me,” He said, “pack your most seductive and beautiful dress, and ride on Caraxes with me, We will make a show of our arrival together. As prince and princess of Dragonstone. Silence their rumours and talk. Be seen as Dragons, of true Targaryen Power…Together.” He offered bringing her hand to his lips and giving her knuckles a gentle kiss,

“You mean this?”

“I can think of no better show of power, than having my wife by my side,”

“A power couple,” she chuckled,

“A power couple, So? Will you come with me, my sweet wife?”

“...Alright,” She agreed, “But I’m picking our clothes.”

“Deal.” He chuckled,

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imagining-in-the-margins · 1 year ago

Text

Sunscreen & Statistics (S.R.)

Summary: Reader asks for Spencer’s help putting on sunscreen (and washing it off after). Request: Spencer lecturing Reader on the statistics of wearing sunscreen, but his mind going blank when reader needs him to help put it on. A/N: This is my (first) entry to my Summer Sunshine Challenge! Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Smut (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Spencer POV, so much sexual tension, mutual pining, heavy petting, fingering, rough sex, unprotected penetrative sex, coworker relationship, so many statistics (showers, skin cancer, sunscreen, sex), schizophrenia mention, Reader wears a bikini Word Count: 5.6k

MASTERLIST

It was a beautiful day—the kind that artists had attempted to capture through many mediums. The summer sun was relentless, stretching its rays across every inch of the region. Even the shade hardly seemed spared, with bits of bright light slipping between green rustling leaves.

This seemingly idyllic set of circumstances offered the BAU a wonderful excuse to stay behind on the sunnier coast. Everyone was quick to buy new bathing suits and Rossi had already begrudgingly extended an invitation for everyone to stay at his favorite luxury hotel (on his dime, of course, or none of us would’ve made it).

The celebrations were already in full swing, and everyone was blissfully happy. It was, after all, the perfect day to hang out by the pool. So, they did. Each and every one…

Except for me. I stayed inside.

I wasn’t trying to ruin the fun. I had my reasons. Some were more reasonable than others.

Others were scary and slightly embarrassing. They wore a smile so bright it would rival the sun and managed to make me turn red even quicker than the star could. The kind of reason that turned me to nothing but a blubbering mess of a man.

I should’ve known better than to try to avoid her, though. Because that reason, that very important and tempting enchantress of a reason, always seemed to find me at the most inopportune time.

“Are you still hiding in here?”

I nearly jumped through my skin at the sound.

“No!”

I turned to find her staring back with an entertained, albeit disbelieving stare.

“Sort of. Maybe,” I felt compelled to continue.

When she still didn’t believe me—for obvious reasons—I finally conceded, “Yes.”

To my joy and eternal shame, she laughed like it had been an intentional joke.

“Well, I got banished back inside because I forgot sunscreen, so I’m trying to figure out where JJ left her bag,” she sighed.

Thankfully, that had been something I could help with. Despite everyone’s enthusiasm when they’d tossed the bags into the center of the suite lobby, I had managed to determine who owned which brightly colored pattern.

From my seat in the center, I reached over to pull JJ’s bag from the fray.

As soon as (y/n) spotted the motion, she was quick to exclaim, “My hero!”

Immediately, I felt the blood rush to my face.

I suppose there were worse places it could have gone.

“How did you forget sunscreen?” I asked.

“I hate the way it feels, so I almost never wear it unless forced,” she shrugged. Then, she turned to me, pointing the bottle like a weapon as she explained, “Plus, it always feels like they’re trying to trick me with all the numbers. I don’t know what SPF is. They could just be lying to me.”

“Well, the good news is that even a weak sunscreen is helpful,” I tried to reassure her. “Regular daily use of at least 15 SPF can reduce your risk of squamous cell carcinoma and melanoma by up to 50%.”

“Is that right?”

“Yeah. I can tell you more about this product specifically, if you want.”

When I held out my hand, she was quick to hand me the bottle. I was, in turn, very happy to have an excuse to look at something other than her before all the blood left my brain.

“Okay, so, this one is an interesting formula. It offers a decent coverage and—,” I started, but my voice died just as soon as I looked up.

Because there she was, pulling her top over her head to reveal the barely-there bikini beneath it.

I knew I only had a few seconds to shamelessly ogle her before she would find out, and I greedily accepted the sight of soft curves that all consisted of and led to her.

My eyes traversed her body the way I wished my hands could until I was left practically trembling.

The blood wasn’t in my face anymore. It wasn’t even anywhere near my brain. To the point I’d barely even noticed she’d already taken her pants off until her voice snapped me back to reality.

“And what?” she said.

“What?”

“… You stopped talking.”

“I did?”

She reached forward and grabbed the bottle from my hand. If she’d noticed the way I had been looking at her, she didn’t say anything about it. She just sort of… smiled.

“Are you alright, Doctor?” she asked.

“Yes,” I lied.

I might’ve been able to answer honestly if it hadn’t been for the way she dumped the contents of the bottle into her hand and began lathering it over her legs.

“A-Anyways,” I tried to continue. With a wavering voice and wandering eyes, I rambled, “to maximize protection you should really use about an ounce of sunscreen with an SPF of 30. Anything over 30 is, well, like you suggested, sort of a scam.”

All the while, there she was, smoothing over slick skin that smelled like summer.

“An ounce, huh?” she hummed as her hands traveled between pillowy thighs to coat skin the sun could rarely reach. “Feels like you could make it a drinking game with enough motivation.”

“Drinking alcohol actually dramatically increases your risk of sunburn, so you should definitely wear more sunscreen if you’re drinking,” I muttered absently while my eyes stayed firmly fixed between her thighs long after her hands had abandoned the area.

“Noted,” she said, the end of the word tinged with a little bit of amusement.

I looked up at her to try to understand what had excited her, or perhaps annoyed her.

Or at least, I tried to look at her face. My eyes made a few involuntarily stops along the way. Once they settled safely back on her smile, however, she was quick to get my blood pumping in a different way.

“So, will you help me?” she asked.

“With what?”

She scoffed, then laughed.

“… the sunscreen? Duh.”

Despite my best efforts to make any sense of the request, I was, once again, a hopeless, lovesick idiot.

“W-What?” I babbled, “You… You want me to put it on? You?”

“I can ask JJ if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“No!” I blurted out with both hands raised in opposition or surrender.

Didn’t seem to matter which.

I tried to explain it away, but my attempts to bolster my good character seemed even less convincing than the sudden outburst.

“N-No, no it’s fine. I-It’s… why would that make me… uncomfortable? I’m fine. I can do it.”

“Wow. Convincing,” she teased.

And that is what it was. There was no anger in her tone; not even a hint of resentment. She laughed, and I did, too.

“Okay, I admit that wasn’t very convincing. But seriously, I can do it. Promise.”

She spoke through her teeth when she muttered, “Whatever you say.”

When she tossed me the bottle back, we were both surprised to find that I’d caught it.

My hands, still shaky, were quick to close the gap between our bodies. The sunscreen felt nearly frigid compared to our skin, but she didn’t seem to mind.

In fact, she rewarded the sensation with a dreamy sigh and a slight arching of her back.

That motion, however small, felt like fire to an already ruined man. I tried to stay focused on more innocent areas. I worked my hands over knotted muscles in her shoulder and tried to free her of those burdens, too. With each swipe of my thumbs, she would let out the most delicious rumble that made me want to do it again.

Each time that I pulled away to add more, I came back a few inches lower until my fingers nearly slipped beneath the top of her bikini bottoms.

At that moment, with her arched lower back pressed against my palms and my fingers brushing against the little fabric between us, she shivered. Silently, I watched as the goosebumps covered her skin like a sheet.

Reaching forward to grab hold of the couch in front of her, she arched her back once more. The movement seemed intentional, closing a couple inches of the distance between us until there was almost nothing.

With more speed than I’d intended, I stepped back and nearly fell.

“O-Okay, I-I think that’s it!” I said with a squeak.

To my dismay, she stayed exactly where she was for a long moment. In fact, she deepened the stretch and fell forward with a sigh before she whined, “Shame.”

I tried to calm my fast beating heart while simultaneously trying to run from the thoughts that continued to chase me the longer she stayed bent over. My hands were still buzzing from the contact, and I felt almost lightheaded from the strength of the unrelenting erection still struggling against compression shorts underneath my pants.

(I had been right that I would need them if she was going to be there.)

And there she was, finally standing and stretching her arms over her head. They dropped back down and I couldn’t stop myself from admiring the effect of physics on her chest.

“It felt nice to be touched like that,” she sighed.

I couldn’t respond to that without making a complete fool of myself, so I tried to distance myself from the moment, instead.

“You’re actually supposed to wait 30 minutes after application to go into the sun, but, y-you can probably just sit in the shade and wait.”

“Did you already apply yours?”

“I’m not taking off my clothes so I could do it myself,” I explained.

I should’ve known better than to doubt her ability to get whatever she wanted—which, at the moment seemed to be my catastrophic defeat.

“Well, that’s not fair,” she whined, “I want to return the favor!”

“I-I mean… I’ll probably have to reapply it to my face soon, but I doubt you want to—.”

“Awe! Fun!” she cried before I could finish the thought, “Gimme!”

“Oh… um, okay.”

I handed her the bottle and whatever I still had of my heart. With expert fingers, she spread the chilly contents over my cheeks. We were both smiling, the expressions growing wider and more genuine as she started to play with pliable skin.

I involuntarily joined in on her laughter. Her hands and eyes were so warm, I couldn’t help but melt into a puddle in her palms.

The moment ended far too quickly. I missed her immediately, but she made sure that my smile didn’t fade.

“There. You’re only sort of pasty now,” she sighed contentedly before adding, “Mostly red, actually.”

“Gee, I wonder why,” I grumbled back. The sarcastic tilt to the sound wasn’t lost on her.

I realized in that awkward, somehow lonely quiet that I loved her more than I’d thought.

I almost wanted to tell her. I’d even opened my mouth, ready to spill the contents of my soul and hope for the best.

I never got a chance, though. Because before I’d uttered a single syllable, she jumped with her own realization.

“Oh, I forgot the most important part!”

“What?”

She turned away from me and dove her attention into the pile of bags without further explanation. I watched as she dug through clothing and whatever else she’d stuffed into her tote until she stood triumphantly with a closed fist.

“What?” I asked again.

She held up a single finger in reply.

I followed her instruction, waiting patiently as I watched her uncap a small tube of chapstick and use it to thoroughly coat her lips. Once again, I was left to shamelessly stare at a beautiful woman as she dutifully cared for herself in a way I’d wished I could.

Swallowing the lump in my throat that carried heartfelt confessions, I spoke again.

“What am I waiting for, exactly?” I teased.

Her eyes narrowed with what seemed to be a playful warning.

“Sunscreen application,” she explained flatly, “Duh.”

I paused. My head cocked to the side and my face twisted as I struggled to find any explanation for why she’d needed me for this part.

“Wha—?”

Then, just when I’d started to speak, it hit me all at once.

And by that, I mean she kissed me.

With both hands cupping already-reddened cheeks, she pulled me forward until I could taste flavored lip balm and her.

Her lips opened, sliding against mine with an undeniable affection that made my whole body tense. I tried to hold her, but it all happened so quickly that by the time I raised my hands to her arms, she was almost gone.

“There!” she said happily, “Now we’re ready.”

For what? I wanted to ask.

But before I could make myself speak, she was already gone.

I spent the next several hours outside.

The rest of the team seemed both surprised and not surprised about my decision to join them. After all, everyone knew I didn’t particularly enjoy pools or any body of water, and, despite my Vegas origins, the sun and I didn’t quite get along.

But they also knew I liked her.

It had never been more obvious than it was that day, when I emerged from the safety of darkness with freshly kissed lips and an expression filled with utter confusion.

(Y/n) was quick to greet me in her usual manner. She said nothing about the kiss.

Part of me had even started to wonder if I’d hallucinated the whole thing. Maybe the doctors had all been wrong, and I was already waist-deep in psychosis that manifested purely through happy memories of her.

It would be an odd presentation, sure, but at the time it somehow felt more likely than her returning my affections. But as soon as I started to convince myself, she would flash me a glance that set my already overheated body on fire. Even as she peered up at me from the edge, I could still see her smile under the water.

She wore that same look in her eye she always did when we were alone. It was a slightly unnerving but mostly flattering feeling. It felt like being wanted by a beautiful woman.

I’m definitely losing it.

That was the only reasonable conclusion to reach. Because when she emerged from the pool, I could’ve sworn she paused before to make sure I was watching.

Of course, I was watching. I made sure that my flawless memory captured damn near every droplet as it caressed her curves. I stared, practically worshipped the sight of her lips parted with a relieved exhale that I could see leave her chest.

The blood was gone again. I was doomed.

“You’re still hiding, huh?”

I was too afraid to answer until she took the seat closest to me.

“No, not hiding, just… staying safe,” I explained through my typical awkward smile.

I pointed up to the umbrella above me, but she didn’t look. Her eyes stayed glued to me.

“It’s probably time for me to reapply, huh?” she laughed.

I liked the way it sounded, so, I laughed, too.

“Yeah, to be honest, you really should’ve done it a couple hours ago, but I didn’t want you to think I was… a wet blanket or a pervert.”

She snorted at the suggestion. Her eyes squinted, playful as always and carrying some meaning that evaded me.

“It’s very interesting that those were the two options that came to your mind,” she said.

I panicked.

“I don’t know, it’s weird, isn’t it? Me insisting you should let me touch you?” I rushed, “I’m not crazy, right? It’s… weird! It’s…!”

She sighed.

At first, I mistook the sound for annoyance. But when I looked into her eyes, I knew that wasn’t right.

Because she looked… like she had been caught in a dream. A melancholy fantasy of something she felt was just beyond her reach.

She was looking at me, I realized, exactly the same way I looked at her.

“You’re not crazy, Spencer,” she said with a smile, “Just a little oblivious.”

My lips twitched as I fought a smirk that came through, anyway.

“I can accept that.”

She seemed pleased, as if I’d given the right answer.

“Well, the good news is I’m done with the sun for the day,” she announced.

Her eyes finally left me as she once again stretched her arms over her head and left me to ogle her like an idiot. Then, when I was thoroughly distracted, she glanced around like she was checking to see if anyone could hear her.

“They don’t seem to be calming down, so…” she said, much quieter now, “any statistics on what I should do with sunscreen when I’m finished with it?”

“No statistics, per se, but you definitely should wash it off. It can be pretty irritating for skin,” I answered matter-of-factly. “Not to mention the salts and chemicals from the pool.”

“I see,” she laughed.

Then, when she realized that I was, in fact, a hopeless, perverted fool with no blood in his brain, she made her intentions much clearer.

“Will you help me with that?”

Not clear enough for me, though.

“What?” I asked.

“With the sunscreen,” she answered simply.

“Uh—.”

Even that eloquent thought couldn’t make it through a parched, tightening throat. With each passing second and every syllable uttered, my voice got higher and even more unstable.

“I’m sorry, are you—what—w-what are you asking me?”

That’s when she took my hand, bursting with laughter as she dragged me from me seat with the most terrifying, alluring, and magical answer.

“Come on, pretty boy.”

I followed her without question but many concerns—the largest of which was the fear that she was actually leading me to my demise by humiliation.

Those worries grew tenfold when she yanked me over the threshold into her private room.

I stumbled forward and practically fell into her arms. But she was waiting for me, seemingly anticipating the clumsiness. Her hands were still soft, still soothing on boiling skin as she guided my lips to hers for the second time that day.

That time, I was prepared.

My hands covered her sun-kissed cheeks and pulled her even closer than she’d done to me before.

She tasted like salt and sugar from summer fresh fruit. I gave her every breath that I had, panting hopelessly against her lips each time that we broke apart.

Her hands were gentle when they found mine. I was reluctant to leave her until I realized that she was simply repositioning them to less innocent areas.

Still, I hesitated to go any further. I let my hands rest softly against her hips while I struggled to express my relief.

“Thank god,” I laughed, “I was sort of worried you were going to beat me up for staring at you all day.”

Her eyes locked onto mine with a hunger that seemed almost insatiable.

“No, I like it when you look at me like that,” she stated so simply it hurt. “In fact, I think I want to thank you.”

Before I could ask her how she intended to that, she made her intentions very clear by grabbing my dick through the fabric of my pants.

“So, tell me… any statistics on why we shouldn’t have sex in the shower?” she asked.

I don’t know how she’d expected me to think clearly. It actually seemed like she was purposefully trying to make it harder for me to form any words at all.

“It’s actually—,” I started just to stop when she started stroking the full length of me with devilish fingers.

“It’s actually really dangerous to try to have sex in the shower,” I tried again.

That time, she began applying a cascading pressure through playful fingertips. I spoke faster, trying to finish any thought before I truly lost my mind.

“There is a—fuck—a 44% chance of injury,” I forced out.

Her hand stopped. She cocked her head to the side with a brilliant smile and asked, “Is that right?”

I was almost relieved. Almost.

“Yeah, and…”

Then she started taking off my pants.

“A-and it can be quite uncomfortable for a woman without additional lubrication,” I said while shaking my head.

Even my subconscious knew I was speaking against my own self-interest, that I could’ve just accepted her question as rhetorical. I could’ve just shut up and go along with whatever she wanted because I would always be happy so long as she was happy.

She dropped down as she pulled my pants to the ground and revealed a second set of bottoms. I couldn’t be sure of it, but she seemed vindicated when she realized how hard my body was struggling against the compression shorts.

“The movies make it look so fun, don’t they?” she hummed as she stood back up. “I guess it is pretty dangerous. And inconvenient.”

“Yeah, but also, I sort of wish I hadn’t said any of that,” I responded immediately, “Let’s do it anyway.”

Thankfully, she found my eagerness charming and not pathetic (or perhaps those were the same to her). Her fingers sneaked past the band of the compression shorts, but she didn’t make the move to remove them yet.

Instead, she used her free hand to lead mine straight to the knot holding her bikini bottoms together.

My fingers twitched. She leaned closer, her cheek pressed against mine and her breath hot on my ear as she said the most beautiful words.

“We can shower after, then.”

“Thank you god,” I cried.

Practiced fingers untangled the knots within seconds, and I fought the urge to stare at her newly exposed skin by kissing her instead.

Her skin, still wet, was chilled enough from the cooler air that she barely reacted when I backed her against the ceramic countertop in the bathroom.

She leaned back, groaning with relief when I finally undid the knots of her top.

Again, I shamelessly admired the wonderful world of physics as it was displayed before me. With each breath, her chest lifted and came closer to my own.

Seemingly sharing the same thoughts, she reached forward and practically tugged my shirt off of me.

As soon as I could, I held her naked body as close to me as I could. My hands covered her lower back and drifted further down her hips, seeking every inch of cold skin that remained.

“God, you’re beautiful,” I whispered. I couldn’t see most of her, but the memory from mere seconds ago was as vivid as it would ever be. “Words don’t exist that would ever do it justice.”

She pulled back, still toying with the tops of my shorts with that insatiable look in her eyes.

“I’d say take a picture, but I think your memory might rival a camera,” she giggled.

“I’ll never forget this,” I promised her, “I’ll never forget you.”

But there were so many other ways I’d yet to see her. So, after carefully loving each inch of her hips, I turned my attention to the burning heat between her thighs.

At the same time my finger slid through slick folds, my lips found hers once more.

“I wanna make you feel good,” I slurred.

Her lips parted in a broken gasp as I tried to do just that. I inched eager fingers between tight muscles and didn’t even bother fighting the urge to moan into her mouth.

She swallowed that desire and returned her own with a growing enthusiasm. My fingers grew faster, sloppier in their gentle beckoning for her to fall apart.

“That’s it. Good girl,” I reassured her when her breathy moans became pitchy. “Oh, you deserve to feel so good, sweetheart.”

That spark in her eyes had turned into a wildfire further stoked by my praise. I leaned into it; I became more confident in my loving her. Her walls were tense and insistent, seeking something more than what my hand could give them.

I withdrew them despite her immediate protests. She recanted any complaint as soon as I moved drenched fingers to the small pearl at her center.

Her moans became shameless, and I accepted them as an imminent victory. She rocked her hips against my hand, riding it to find her elusive end.

All the while, her eyes were locked onto mine. She refused to look away, forced us both to acknowledge that I was the one who brought her here. To the edge of the abyss, to the ultimate euphoria.

“That’s it, pretty girl,” I said through a smirk, “Come for me.”

She followed the direction with the utmost enthusiasm. She fell forward, favoring me to the cold countertop. I caught her but continued my relentless efforts to please her.

I kept going, kept cherishing her until she whimpered from my touch. Then I held her. I pet her damp hair and laid a gentle kiss atop the crown of her head.

“Good girl,” I assured her.

But I wasn’t finished yet.

“Now turn around.”

She perked up the second she’d heard the order. Although she’d barely caught her breath, she turned on shaky legs without question.

My hands found her hips just like they had before. Except this time, there were no bikini bottoms. There was only pillowy flesh and the strong muscles of her backside pressed firmly against my dick.

Barely moving away from her, I finally freed myself from the confines of compression shorts. I groaned with relief and noticed how the sound made her back arch further.

When I lined myself up at her entrance, she rewarded the action with a dreamy sigh.

It wasn’t enough for me. I wanted to see the look on her face, to hear the desperation in her voice before I gave her what I’d fantasized of from the moment I met her.

My hand knotted in her hair. I pulled her back from her comfortable position braced against the countertop. I held her up so that I could whisper in her ear the same as she’d done to me earlier.

“This is what you wanted, right?” I asked, as if her whimpers hadn’t been answer enough.

“Yes,” she moaned, “please.”

The sound of debauchery on her tongue sent shockwaves through me. My cock twitched involuntarily, bumping against satin skin now dripping with desire.

I barely resisted the urge to slam into her with full force. Instead, I stayed there, with just the tip of me inside of her as I groaned.

“Oh, I’d give you the whole world if you asked me like that.”

“This’ll do for now,” she giggled.

Her hips began to sway as she rocked on her toes. She chased even just a half inch more of me and rewarded me with beautiful sounds when I finally started to sink into her.

“That’s it…” I sighed.

Her confidence was quickly shaken, though, as my pursuit continued. Not even half of my dick was inside her when I felt her start to tremble.

“You can take it,” I assured her.

She responded by tightening her muscles even further, resisting the gentle stretch of her body as it accommodated my own.

“That’s my girl,” I groaned. The blinding heat of her demanded my full attention to the point that I was barely coherent as I slurred, “You’re doing such a good job, sweetheart.”

But all it took was one word to unravel my best efforts.

“Spencer,” she whimpered.

Any hesitance I had vanished without a trace. I thrust my hips forward to the hilt with so much force that she scrambled to stay on her feet. Manicured nails struggled to find a grip the ceramic before my next motion.

I took my time pulling back, and I watched her struggle with the fullness that was our bodies come together. I reveled in the sight of her heaving chest and clouded eyes.

That time, I didn’t fight the urge to slam into her. I even pulled her back as I did it, bringing our bodies together over and over again with a blissful type of violence.

With each thrust, I watched her reaction in the mirror. I made sure that my mind captured each second of her pleasure. Each time her jaw dropped open with whines and praise in the shape of my name.

“Please, Spencer,” she keened with a white-knuckled grip on the edge of the counter.

I hadn’t been sure what she was asking for, so I continued to love her the same as I always had.

But she only became more frustrated, sobbing with pleasure the next time my hips crashed into hers.

“Harder,” she cried out.

And I tried. I tried to follow her instruction, to grant her the release that could only be found in the fullest expression of years of repressed passion.

The problem wasn’t my unwillingness to give my everything to her. Rather, it was the siren’s call of resistant, relentlessly desperate muscles.

“You’re so fucking tight,” I ground through clenched jaw.

Then, with a small and wavering voice, she insisted, “I can take it.”

Every atom of my being burned with a suffocating desire. It felt nearly feral; fully free to show her just how badly my body ached to be with her.

She began slamming back against me with a similar fervor and I almost made myself stop.

“Fuck, I’m so close, but I don’t want it to end,” I begged her.

But that beautiful, evasive, brilliant star of a woman just giggled. I could practically feel myself leaving bruises in the shape of my fingertips and she couldn’t have been happier.

Through the mirror, she looked at me and reminded me of the full, unrelenting power of the sun.

“Don’t worry,” she purred, “we can do it again later.”

That was all it took. With just a look, she practically brought me to my knees.

“Fuck!” I choked as I slammed into her with my full force. We both nearly collapsed against the counter, but I managed to pull her hips down harder against me just as I found my release.

The blissful heat of her grew to new heights as I filled her. Each wave of pleasure caused her to shiver with sheets of goosebumps.

I watched through half-lidded, lust-clouded vision as she accepted every inch and every drop of my desire with a euphoric smile.

“Sorry,” I said while trying to catch my breath. Even when I managed to capture some breath, it escaped me with a laugh as I explained, “I… I wasn’t expecting you to say that.”

“Don’t apologize,” she slurred.

I might’ve thought she was just being merciful if she hadn’t immediately followed, “That was fun.”

It was so obviously sincere, but I was so ridiculously stupid that I had to be sure, anyway.

“Yeah?” I asked.

“Yeah,” she laughed.

The sound was even more beautiful when I could feel the vibrations from within. I groaned from the thought of how it might feel for her lips to be wrapped around my cock. It twitched inside her, and she responded with a small whimper.

My hips bucked one more time, forcing me to the hilt before I withdrew in one quick motion.

I stood there for a moment, holding her hips steady as I watched the evidence of what we’d just done drip down her thighs.

My stomach was filled with butterflies doing flips and there was no accounting for the blood that still hadn’t made its way back to my brain.

(Y/n) was patient as ever with a pitiful man.

“Come on, pretty boy,” she chuckled as she took my hand, “help me get clean.”

Despite my best efforts, there were significantly less attempts to get clean in the shower than I’d expected. It was only thanks to her self-preservation that we didn’t end up having sex in the shower, although we came pretty close.

I could never tire of kissing her, but I realized I could love her just as much with lather as I could with my lips. My worship shifted as I dutifully cared for her the way I’d always wished I could.

When it was over, I didn’t give up. I followed her into her bed and she made no attempt to stop me.

In fact, she moved closer to me until my arm could reach around her waist and her head rested on my chest.

“Any other statistics you want to share?” she mumbled, now sleepy from the sun and… other activities.

“Always,” I answered. “Like, did you know, I have now joined the 54% of people who have slept with a coworker?”

“Fascinating. Was it worth it?” she chuckled, having already known my answer.

“Yes,” I told her, anyway. But the way I always did when it came to sharing statistics, I couldn’t stop myself. “Although, there is a smaller subset of that group that’s even more interesting.”

She gasped, quickly pressing her fingers to my lips to stop me from ruining her moment.

“Let me guess—at least half of them fucked in the office,” she said.

And in that quiet, private moment, the only thing more beautiful than her hopeful smile was the fact she’d gotten it right.

“You are, without a doubt, the most attractive woman I’ve ever met in my life,” I confessed.

She gave her wholehearted admission that she felt the same in the best way she could.

With a cheeky smile and the utmost sincerity, she asked, “What are the odds of that?”

(Tell me what you thought about this fic here!)

Looking for another mutual pining summer-themed fic? Check out my 11.2k oneshot Lost Time, where Reader and Spencer spend their mandatory leave taking the Spring Break Spencer never got to have.

Reid Taglist: @mrs-dr-reid , @dreatine , @hopefulfangirl24 , @laurakirsten0502 , @dontcallmekittens , @rintheemolion , @andreasworlsboring101 , @imsuperawkward , @wentz2005 , @lovejules888 , @dashneydanger , @materialisthicc , @violetspoetic , @mslowlife , @conniesanchor , @trippol-threat , @will-byers-needs-a-hug , @poo-tay-toot , @bookobsessedfreak

Complete Taglist: @cynbx , @emsma11 , @mediocre-writer , @fightingdragonswithwho , @andiebeaword , @jayyeahthatsme , @pepperthealien

Thanks for reading!

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds smut #spencer reid self insert #imaginingafterdark

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inkedells · 2 years ago

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I have a request if you’re looking for one! Your innocent reader with the plushies has my mind SPINNING. How about Joel making her squirt for the first time? I can just imagine the reader getting all anxious about the sensation she’s feeling and Joel realizing she’s about to squirt. I know he’d talk her through it so good 🥵😩

oh. em. ef. gee. thank you for absolutely blessing me with this request

A/N: sequel to my dbf!joel fic featuring plushies, and now squirting (things get absolutely filthy so consider this your content warning for a joel who's so absolutely obsessed with reader squirting). read the first part to this AU here, but this can also be read as a standalone!

words: ~700

joel masterlist

mdni! | requests open but responses not guaranteed.

Joel sat naked, propped up against your plushies just as you were the other night, his legs splayed out in front of him to make room for you. With the back of your head resting on his chest and your legs intertwining with his, he was rhythmically rubbing your clit as his hard cock subtly grinded against your back.

“You like it when I play with you like this, cupcake?”

Your head thrashing, your hands reached up behind you to find his face and bring it down for you to kiss him. The angle was difficult, but the way it forced the kiss to be nothing more than a sloppy clash of your mouths only made it hotter.

“Wore these stockings just for me, didn’t you?”

You nodded eagerly, biting your lip as Joel’s free hand caressed the lace that hugged your thigh.

“You’re my fuckin’ toy,” Joel rasped, stretching the fabric until it snapped back against your sensitive skin and pulled a whine out of you, “Say it. Say, ‘I'm your toy, Joel.’”

“I’m—fuck—I’m your… I'm your toy.” As Joel continued to rub your swollen clit, an urge began to creep up on you, something you didn’t know how to explain—but you blurted out what you thought it was despite the embarrassment of it all.

“I think I have to pee... oh god.”

Immediately, Joel knew you were about to squirt. But he said nothing, instead playing with you even more strategically.

“Joel, seriously, I’m,” a shaky whine when he let the fingers of the hand which was previously caressing your leg, slip inside your pussy, “I’m not lying, please.”

He didn’t say a word for a few seconds, seemingly contemplating something. “Touch yourself.”

“W-What, no, I have to…” You cut yourself off and began to push Joel’s hand away from you in an effort to get up and address what you believed to be “the issue” between your legs.

Joel immediately pulled you back against him. "You're my good girl, aren't you?"

Tears prickling your eyes, you blinked them away before nodding and forcing your tense muscles to relax.

"What are you?"

"I'm your--I'm your good girl."

"Then do what I say. Touch yourself, little girl, let me show you what it's like to fuck my face 'till you're dumb."

Whimpering, you shakily began rubbing circles on your clit. You felt extremely overstimulated, to the point where your legs were vibrating with it. With rapid breaths, you felt Joel slip out from beneath you and place himself with his face between your legs.

His eyes never left yours as he gripped your wrist and pulled your hand away from your pussy before licking a slow, long stripe along your seam. A few more licks, and his fingers were back on your clit, this time moving back and forth rapidly as his own hips fucked your sheets. The tingling feeling only grew more intense, forcing your pent-up energy to manifest into actions, actions like your hands flying to his hair, pulling on it with fervor, your convulsing torso, and the opening and closing motions of your trembling legs.

Joel saw all these signs and took it as his signal to give you your final instruction before he stuck out his tongue.

“In my mouth, fuck, please. Put it in my mouth.”

You didn’t understand what he meant until it was happening.

With your feet planted flat on the bed and your hands shooting to clutch your plushies, your entire body shook with it as clear liquid gushed out of you in pulses, splashing Joel’s tongue and soaking the bottom half of his face. It felt extraordinary, like nothing you had ever felt before, and you knew the pleasure of it all was intensely heightened by Joel’s receptiveness to it; the way he moaned as he drank you down and continued playing with your pussy, eagerly grinding his cock against the mattress, mumbling praises when he could, telling you how good you tasted and returning to finger fucking you in an effort to coax even more out of you.

“Beautiful, god, so beautiful, I need more,” Joel pressured, groaning in frustration when the stream stopped. “F-Fucking give me—give me more.” His mouth closed around your clit and began to suck. As if sensing that you were about to protest his ministrations, he swatted your inner thigh and rasped out in a voice hoarse from arousal, “I’m not stopping until you give me what I want, sweetheart.”

if you enjoyed, see the rest of my works here!

taglist for this AU: @777-wonders, @scarlettstarletts, @pedrosbabygirl , @deathsholywaterr , @devilmademewriteit , @jakegyllenhl

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ruinofchimera · 2 months ago

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Lily Evans was far from a white knight in shining armor in the confrontations between James & Co. and Severus. And if you want to talk about her toxic friendship with Snape, don’t try to erase her contribution to the equation.

Apparently, her close friend is lifted upside down by a spell that causes his robes to fall and expose his underwear. As he helplessly struggles, flailing to free himself, a crowd gathers to watch the spectacle. His wand is out of reach, and he is being mocked and threatened. Of course, as a true friend, she finds this picture amusing enough that she has to hold back her laughter. You know, absolutely reasonable behavior for someone who cares for you deeply. Moreover, imagine if Remus were in a similar situation—no doubt his friends' first reaction would be to laugh, or perhaps yell at his bullies to put him down. With his wand in hand, James Potter would stand by and wait for his friend to be released.

Definitely a turning point in Lily and Severus's friendship. Though Severus's behavior was heavily dictated by a strong sense of hurt after such a public humiliation and violation of his privacy, as you all say, these circumstances justify nothing when it comes to throwing those kinds of insults. Fine.

Oh, but what explains her response, then? Was she hurt too? Humiliated? If you’re saying that the mental state after such a traumatic experience as the one James inflicted upon Severus shouldn’t have affected his words, what justifies Lily’s behavior? What made such a saintly person as she join in the ridicule of her so-called friend in an instant? Not only did she join in by calling him the insulting nickname used by his abusers, but she also added another mockery of Severus to the rotten pile as if it weren’t enough already. And I want to remind you once again that Lily lost control of her emotions before she had even gone through half the humiliation that Snape had endured, for the record.

Thus, it appears that there is a precedent of hypocrisy here. Why do you make this situation appear as a one-sided insult (Severus is the big bad wolf and Lily is the victim) rather than a mutual emotional outburst? Why is Lily allowed to feel hurt but Snape isn’t, though Severus’s emotional damage is at least double? Fine. Let’s move on to the approach both of them took in their apologies.

So, apparently, Severus felt guilty after committing such an atrocity as calling Lily a Mudblood. He made a sincere attempt to apologize. Lily didn’t feel guilty for her contribution to his public humiliation; she was sure the only villain here was Severus.

Lily had every right imaginable to reject his attempts to make amends, but the thing is, Severus reconsidered his behavior—she never did. Moreover, she expressed absolute skepticism about his redemption. Should I even mention that she later started dating his bully? The one who never even tried to apologise for his assaults on Snape?

Somehow, she believed in James's redemption even without him admitting his wrongs. Let it be. That’s not the main point of discussion. What I really struggle to understand is how, given all these circumstances, Lily becomes a cheered, glorious friend, and Severus is commonly believed to be the villain in their dynamic.

Did I overlook something? Prove me wrong, if you please. Open my eyes to where exactly Lily is a saint or martyr. Where is she even a good friend in the first place? I’m all ears.

#harry potter #lily evans #severus snape #marauders #james potter

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rafesangelita · 6 months ago

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hii can you maybe write some rafe angst (i just wanna cry)? idk maybe something about reader finally leaving him after too many chances and he feels like the world is ending or something like that ? btw i love ur work sm <3

warnings: angst, cheating

“it says that he’s at topper’s..” you glanced up from your phone, sighing to yourself when jade scoffed. “of course he’s at topper’s! but what do you think is happening over there?” your friend took a seat next to you. closing out rafe’s location, you couldn’t help but feel like you were crazy for checking it in the first place. “rafe said he was setting up shop for a party, okay? he’s just busy that’s all.” you sounded unsure, like you were trying to reassure yourself more than anything.

“oh, he’s busy all right.” shutting your eyes, you whimpered. “he hasn’t answered his phone, jade, i’m out of options okay? i’m just going to wait here for him.” she pulled you up before you could lay in self pity. “no you’re not. what we’re gonna do is go down there and catch his ass in the act, okay? you’ve been way too nice to him.” knowing there wasn’t anything you could do but go along with her, you found yourself in her car five minutes later.

“as your friend, y/n, it hurts me to see you go through this time and time again. this asshole doesn’t deserve you and it enrages me that you can’t understand that.” you listened to her rant the whole way to topper’s, your anxiety growing as you two got closer to your destination. “look, when we get in there just remember that no matter what happens you’re not going through this alone, alright?” you smiled at jade, pulling her in for a hug before you two stepped out of her car and made your way inside.

as usual, the place was filled to the brim with partygoers, everyone seemingly in their own world as you and jade walked through the crowded room. “where to?” jade shouted over the music, dragging you in the direction you pointed out to her. when you two made it to rafe’s usual spot, he was nowhere to be found. “y/n, what are you doing here?” topper looked on edge as he greeted you. “hi, ‘top. do you know where rafe is? i’ve been trying to get ahold of him..” you didn’t miss the way his eyes flickered upstairs.

“uhh.. you know what! he actually just left, yup. maybe you should go home and see-” jade cut him off, “you’re a really bad liar. upstairs, y/n.” you blinked, your feet moving before you could second guess this whole thing. your best friend followed behind you, your heart beating in your chest as you stood outside the only door that was closed. “ah, shit,” you heard rafe’s voice on the other side of the door, your stomach turning when another girl’s laugh echoed in your ears.

with a shaky hand, you twisted the door knob, your heart dropping to your stomach at the sight of rafe pushing a girl’s head down his cock. “rafe?” your voice was small but it made his eyes snap open. “baby? what are you doing here?” he scrambled up from the bed, pushing away the girl that was kneeling between his thighs. “what the hell!” she wiped her mouth, “you said you were single, asshole.” the girl flashed you an apologetic look as she walked past you and out the door.

tears filled your eyes. rafe cheated on you, again. “you told her you were single?” you whispered, the betrayal cutting deep through your chest like a knife. rafe moved closer, attempting to grab your arm. “no, no, it’s not what it looked like baby, i swear!” he fumbled with his belt, cursing to himself as you shook your head. “i can’t keep doing this with you,” you backed away, “i can’t..” rafe pulled you inside the room, locking the door shut.

“y/n, please let me explain,” he was pacing back and forth, holding his head in his hands. “she was giving you head, rafe. how do you ‘explain’ that?” you were eerily calm, staring at nothing but thinking about everything. “she was short on money for some blow, alright? she came onto me, it didn’t mean shit.” he reached out, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “is that supposed to make me feel better?” you sniffled, swatting his hand away.

“to know that every laugh, every smile, every memory that we’ve ever shared together wasn’t, isn’t, enough to keep you from choosing someone else over me, just means nothing to you? do you even know what this is doing to me right now?” something about this felt different to rafe, and that’s what terrified him. “of course it’s enough, it’s more than enough. i don’t know why i keep doing this to you, baby, i’m so fucking sorry.” he rubbed his bottom lip, the blue of his eyes now sparkling with tears under the soft light of the room.

“you have it all, rafe. tanneyhill, your father’s business, ‘kook king’ status.. me. what more could you possibly want? what more do you need? the last few times you did this, i was graceful enough to overlook it because i was scared of what it would mean if i did something about it.” if rafe was terrified earlier, now he was damn near ready to drop to his knees and beg you to forgive him. “but i think i’ve just realized something,” oh. fuck. those words made him sick to his stomach.

“wait! please, baby, let’s just go home, okay? let’s call it a night. i’ll make a hot bath for us and we could watch your favorite movies until we fall asleep, just the way you like it, right?” you were seconds away from full on sobbing at his words, the memories of you two cuddling in bed and exchanging ‘i love you’s’ shattering what was left of your heart. “no.. no, i don’t think i want to do that.” rafe was quick, shaking his head as his mouth fell open slightly.

“y/n. this will never happen again, i fucking promise.” he got on his knees. “please.” you looked down, “i need you. you’re the one i want to share everything with. it’s you that i see when i envision my life five, ten, twenty years from now, babe. you’re it for me, i swear. this was just a mistake.” he was clinging onto the hem of your shirt now. “a mistake? betrayal isn’t a mistake, rafe, you chose this.” you planted your hands on his shoulders, pushing him away.

“i’m staying the night with jade but i’ll be back sometime this week for my stuff.” you looked away from him, not being able to trust yourself if you saw the pained expression on his face right now. he groaned, fingers dragging down his face as he got back up on his feet. “you can’t, y/n. please, you can’t do this.” rafe kept a hand on the door so you couldn’t open it. “i’ll do anything, baby, just tell me what to do and i’ll do it.” he pleaded with you.

“move your hand.” you spoke quietly. there was a long pause. “if i stay, rafe, i’ll never leave.”

705 notes · View notes

saintobio · 1 year ago

Text

sincerely yours. (8)

↳ gojou satoru/reader

when a twist of fate led their marriage to the path of a quintessential tragic romance, two past lovers go through another series of experiences on love, heartbreak, identity, illness, and trauma along the road to a happily ever after.

genre. heavy angst, amnesia, modern au, 18+

tags/warnings. profanity, mentions of cheating, implied suicide attempt, toxic relationship, explicit smut

series masterlist -> episode nine

9:21 AM.

Tap. Tap. Tap. The sound of your index finger drumming a slow and steady cadence against the table was nearly in perfect synchronization to the tick tock of the clock above the wall behind you. An icy, uninviting atmosphere was the best way to describe the current situation inside the conference room at this time of the morning, with the gelid detachment between the boss and her employees as you built a wall—an impenetrable wall—around yourself to keep the inner turmoil you had in your head.

So, you listened. You succumbed to silence as a result.

“I’d like to present this new idea that we, along with the ecommerce team, have come up with to increase engagement on our website.” Even as the marketing manager started to speak, you remained frigid. “We did go through some feedback that people have been posting online and they’re mostly saying that the current web theme is too plain and that they’re hoping to see a more engaging website, so we would love to propose some ideas that could improve Hearte’s overall online presence. We know that keeping the brand’s look consistent is very important, especially now that Hearte is still establishing its own name in the fashion industry, and we have currently done a phenomenal job with our brand style. However, as the online website is our visual storefront, not only is its functionality critical, but we also have to ensure that the web design is in line with our aesthetics.”

9:26 AM.

You leaned back on your chair with your arms crossed, looking up to speak to the manager from across the conference room. “Let’s keep the unnecessary introduction short and just go straight to the point,” you strictly announced, receiving curious eyes in return as it was their first time seeing you becoming all stern and unamused. Such an odd sight to see from a boss who used to have the brightest of sunshines reflecting on her smile. “What’s the proposal?”

The marketing manager cleared her throat and moved her presentation onto the next slide. “Yes, Ms. Y/N. So… uh, based on the data that you can see on the screen, our online sales increased by 15% for the past two weeks, but we still have about 10% of shoppers abandoning their shopping carts. Earlier this week, we set up email campaigns and social reminders to decrease our abandonment rate and urge shoppers to return to their carts. While working with the IT team, we did some A/B testing to determine which version would drive our business metrics. We’ve also reached out to The Society Management and added Kendall Jenner to our PR list so that possibly, in the future, we can get her as a model for our landing page and attract the western market,” she continuously explained in a manner to convince you of how much effort their department was doing to increase Hearte’s sales, “But what we believe could bring a tremendous improvement on our website engagement is by introducing style guides. This will capture the interest of the audience now that they can mix and match some outfits based on their own style, and—”

9:32 AM.

Sigh.

“Ms. Ono, I have to be honest, but I expected more from you,” you cut her off by leaving a frank comment on her presentation, “Fashion brands have been doing style guides for years. You make it sound like it’s unique, but it’s nothing new. How sure are we that it will actually bring a dramatic improvement on our website engagement? I doubt most of them would even browse through it.”

“Well, uh…” The marketing manager faltered, glancing at the head of the social media team for some help, which she didn’t end up receiving. “I think it’ll work the way we want it to as long as we introduce engaging copies that make buyers fall in love with the designs.”

“You think?” You criticized her word of choice. “Ms. Ono, I gave you enough time to brainstorm with your team, so the moment you step inside of this conference room, you should have prepared whatever strategy you had in mind. I don’t settle for ambitious words like ‘I think’ or ‘I believe’. I want to hear a proposal that’s original, unique, and captivating. I want you to be a hundred percent sure that you know what you’re doing before you waste everyone’s time like this. Do you understand? Am I being clear? I want a proposal that would definitely get us somewhere and not just by assuming we will.”

Were you being too harsh? They said that the fashion industry in itself was harsh, so what was so surprising about seeing you being strict, candid, and business-like? This was the nature of your job. This was normal.

9:47 AM.

Very timidly did Nobara raise her hand beside you to chime in on the discussion. “I know I’m not in the position to make suggestions, but…” She pressed something on her laptop before carefully sliding it to your side of the table, showing you what appears to be a classic early 2000s ‘dress-up game’ with a base model and a selection of outfits that were inspired by your designs. “I just wanted to show you this, Ms. Y/N. I do agree with Ms. Ono’s idea to introduce style guides, but maybe we can do it in an interactive way. I know the dress-up game idea may look childish and unsophisticated, but I was kinda hoping that we can just make certain adjustments so that it could match Hearte’s classy and simplistic style. We can have base models in different body types and skin tones to show our brand’s diversity, then we can have shoppers try dressing them up using the outfits on our current collection. That allows them to easily visualize how the pieces would look on a certain skin tone and body type.”

The way everyone else in that conference table looked at Nobara was very obvious that they were expecting you to reprimand her for even having the guts to offer such a farcical idea. What does she know? They were probably thinking that. You’re just an intern. You knew they were saying that in their minds. On the other hand, you surprisingly liked her proposal and enjoyed the unique idea of introducing it to the website because her proposal actually did make sense. People would be curious, people would try it out by interacting with the website, and that means the engagement would rise up.

“I like that idea. We can go with that,” you said, sliding the laptop back to her while nodding at the marketing and social media managers, “I need the team to discuss Nobara’s idea further and polish it thoroughly before we can start adding it onto the website. Make adjustments as needed and ensure that everything is still in line with our brand. If you notice any flaws with this proposal, you can flag them with me and I’ll review them.”

9:54 AM.

Just as you were about to wrap up the meeting, a certain someone entered the conference room in haste—panting out of breath with her long, wavy hair and creased red pants. “I’m so sorry, I’m late.”

Her casualness made you clench your jaws tightly, fueling the fire to your already terrible day. You could no longer stop yourself from unleashing your rage as you looked up at her with a critical squint. “Ms. Hirai, what time’s it?”

“It’s ten, I know. I’m so sorry,” she repeated her apologies and paid an apologetic bow to everyone in the meeting room, “I’m sorry, everyone. I was caught up in heavy traffic today.”

You let out a silent scoff and ignored her compunctious act. “How long are we gonna keep using that excuse, really?” you questioned her, earning the intrigued eyes of your employees who were all sensing the sudden tension between you and your best friend, “As the fashion merchandiser and my second-in-command, you should’ve been here in this meeting with me, but where were you? You anticipated that there would be heavy traffic, yet you couldn’t be responsible enough in coming to work early knowing that we have a meeting? Or was it because you’re too busy doing other things so you’re no longer interested in showing up to work on time?”

Akemi shook her head, contritely. “It’s… It’s not like that.”

“Not like what?” Your icy stare bored into her. No trace of compassion was present in your eyes. “I’m sure you’re living a very blissful life outside of work and I’m glad you are, but is that also why you don’t bother with anything else anymore?”

“Y/N—”

“Miss Y/N,” you corrected, “I’m your boss, so treat me like one.”

Wide, chocolate brown eyes greeted you in response. It was clear that she was at a loss of words and could only repeat her meaningless apologies a thousand times. “I’m really sorry, Ms. Y/N. It won’t happen again.”

“You didn’t even let me know that you’ll be coming in late,” you continued and ignored the pitiful expression on her face, focusing on her swollen red lips and her dewy, rosy cheeks. She must have had a really good morning to look like a cherry blossom on a spring day. Was she so preoccupied being all lovey dovey with your ex-husband this morning? Did she sleep comfortably on the same marital bed you used to share with him? Your jaw tensed visibly. “You’re just coming in whenever you want. You don’t respect people’s time. You don’t respect my rules. You don’t respect me.”

Yes, you were overreacting by taking things too personally and it was the reason why you got up from your seat and bolted out of the conference room upon realizing your unusual outburst. You could hear the clicking sound of your stiletto echoing across the corridor as you stomped towards your office, swinging the glass door open and heading straight towards the ceiling-to-floor window to have some peace of mind. Peace? How ridiculous. How could you find peace? You couldn’t even grasp the fact that your best friend was acting like everything was normal. You couldn’t understand why she was rubbing her relationship to your face as if she wasn’t just a placeholder to somebody’s ex wife.

“Y/N?” Akemi’s voice cut you out of your toxic trail of thoughts—your mouth thinning with displeasure while you didn’t bother turning around to meet her gaze. Breathe. You had to breathe and think rationally. “I…I understand you’re really angry right now, but I was hoping we can have this much needed talk.”

You could feel her reaching for your hand at the height of your frustration and your defensive instinct led you to angrily swing your arm away, accidentally hitting her cheek as you pivoted on your heel to face her. It took two seconds for your eyes to shift from glaring in frustration to widening in surprise after seeing the small cut your diamond ring left on her cheek. “Are you okay?”

“Y-Yeah, no, it’s fine,” she insisted with her palm pressed onto the right side of her face. “I deserved it.”

Good lord. What was happening to you? Despite having all these unspoken rage and unresolved conflicts between the two of you, you would still drop everything and be concerned for her. You would still let your walls collapse. You were the villain that couldn’t stick to being a villain. Why? Why did you feel this way? Was it because you knew she wasn’t technically doing anything wrong? Or was it because you were just projecting your personal frustrations onto her? Was betrayal really the issue here? Or was it the huge possibility that she could in fact be Gojou’s one true love? You had thought of this before, but the same questions in your head never stopped. And never did they stop from invading your headspace as you made your way towards the small fridge to grab an ice pack that you soon offered to Akemi, leading her to one of the couches while finally coming into your senses.

Yet there was silence and nothing but awkward silence when you two sat at a safe distance from each other.

“I’m shameless.” She was the first one to break the uncomfortable atmosphere. “I know you’re thinking that and I do agree with you. I really am shameless to even look you in the eye right now.”

You sighed and looked away, only to keep yourself from the furnace of pain that you had been bottling inside. “Stop. You’re making me seem like a villain right now. I’m tired of seeing myself this way.”

She closed her legs and sat humbly, reaching forward to squeeze your hand. “You’re not. You’re not a villain and you never were,” said the same woman you accidentally smacked a few minutes ago, “I understand why you would feel a certain way towards me. I’d even understand if you hate me so much that you wanna murder me. I’m your best friend and I know about your history with Satoru, yet here I am seeing your ex-husband behind your back. I didn’t mean it. I didn’t plan it. I truly didn’t. Even though you’re not together anymore and I’m technically not homewrecking anyone, I’m still putting us—you and I—in a really awkward position. You didn’t deserve any of that and I’m very sorry.”

At least, she was self-aware. But looking at the brighter side of things, you were getting calmer now that you were hearing her side of the story, though that didn’t stop you from feeling any less horrible. “I don’t really care who you date,” you claimed, adamantly, “And I most definitely do not care who Satoru chooses to date. We’ve been divorced for three years.”

“It’s still not right that I’m seeing him.” She let her guilt speak up for her.

And you let your resentment speak for you. “Then, why him of all people?”

“It’s…”

“Complicated?”

“Y-Yeah…”

You decided to keep a straight face. “How did this happen?”

Akemi looked as if you had just forced her to be on the hot seat because of the apathy on your visage. “It was a drunken mistake at first and we kinda just…”

“I’m not asking about when you two started fucking,” you replied, bluntly. Something you had never done before in your usual sophisticated vocabulary. “I’m asking when you realized you have feelings for him. When did you fall in love with him?”

She had trouble finding the right answer. “It just happened. I d-don’t really know. Whenever you asked me to look after him, I guess the bond he and I developed from that made me see him in a different light.”

You disregarded the pain in your chest and let the volcano explode on its own, because her answer only meant that she was already growing feelings for your ex-husband at the same time you were confiding to her about him. That was the worst part of it all.

“Why do you like him?” you questioned further, “Despite knowing what happened while I was married to him, why did you still end up falling in love with him? If that’s so hard to answer, then don’t think about us or me or our friendship. Just think about the decisions you made for yourself. Why are you with Satoru?”

Her gaze found the floor. Hesitance. Guilt. Shame. Those emotions were all dancing in her eyes in a complete roundabout. While she took a moment to fully reassess her decision, you weren’t sure if you deserved to still feel hurt when she gave you an honest answer. “When I met Satoru, I didn’t meet the toxic, cheating ex-husband that he was known for,” she said, slowly, “I met a man who holds such a high respect for his ex-wife, adores his son like his greatest gift of all, and values his marriage more than anything else in this world. I met a vulnerable man who isn’t afraid to open his heart to strangers. A man who gave me emotional support even when he’s the one who needed it the most. I… It’s hard to explain, but…”

Was there really anything left to say? Her point was clear, and your silence while she was speaking was more so because you were trying not to let the tiny pricks in your heart affect you further than it already did. The fullness of her voice and the way her eyes shined when she talked about him were enough to tell you that your best friend had truly fallen in love and you would be cruel to take that away from her. Even from him. They would not have been involved in such an intimate relationship if there had been no attraction between them to begin with, so then… Why did it feel like you were being cheated on? She was no Sera, and he was not the Satoru that only used you for his corporate ambitions. It was just Akemi and Satoru—they were each other’s right person at the right time. The only thing blocking their path to a loving relationship was you.

You. The irrational and spiteful ex-wife. The ex-wife who always played the ‘victim card’. The selfish ex-wife who wanted all the good things to only come her way.

Well, god be damned, because you were beginning to confuse yourself with the version of you that wasn’t even remotely like you at all. She was just a mirrored image of yourself that you thought people perceived.

“You can do what you want.” The moment you spoke again, you were already creating a huge wall between you and your best friend, making sure that there were boundaries that none of you should ever cross now that she had chosen to be with someone you had sincerely loved in the past. It may sound like you were letting go, but truth be told, you just didn’t think that you even had the option to hold onto anything. Satoru wasn’t yours and you weren’t his anymore. You were two individuals living separate lives. “If you wanna be with him, that’s your choice. I don’t plan on intervening. It just… just really surprised me that you didn’t have the decency to tell me at all.”

Akemi nodded, apologetically desperate. “I understand how you’re feeling and I’m sorry. I really, truly am sorry, Y/N.” Her voice and her countenance did show the genuineness in her plea to be forgiven, but you were too numb to feel anything else. “I hope we can stay friends despite everything.”

How could you even stay friends in a situation like this?

First option was to keep pretending that their relationship wasn’t bothering you. Second option was to focus on your own relationship with Toji to the point where everything else just didn’t matter anymore.

Yeah, you thought. You could certainly choose the latter.

“Our friendship isn’t my top priority at the moment,” was your straightforward response to her, “I wanna focus on my son and his relationship with his father. That’s all.”

Any regular person would have thought: ‘Wow, Y/N. You handled that well.’ ‘You’re so mature.’ ‘You’re a lot calmer than we expected.’ The thing was, you really did think that you had been way too calm about it. In spite of the scene you caused at the conference room, or the dramatic exchange you had with Akemi in your office, you still handled it much better than one would think. In TV shows or movies, the ex-wife would have dragged the best friend to the ground, slapped her face, pulled her hair, started a nasty catfight, and called her all the terrible labels you could think of. Look, part of you wanted to do that. And the other part of you—the sympathetic, altruistic part of you—thought you shouldn’t do that. You would only look pathetic.

Of all the negative things Satoru had made you feel over the course of your failure of a marriage, this aftermath was probably the toughest.

You just weren't in the right state of mind to justify why.

You also couldn’t justify why you had been looking for unhealthy ways to cope with stress and anxiety. If anyone from your family saw you standing at the smoking area near the parking lot right now, they would have given you an earful of how you must be out of your mind for even putting a cigarette stick between your lips. How exactly could tobacco be good for you? You would say, first of all, that nicotine does in fact cause pleasant feelings to distract you from unpleasant ones. You couldn’t find any other way to relax your mind any faster than one cigarette stick could. Besides, staying in the office and seeing Akemi around was getting too suffocating and you couldn’t afford to have your negative mood lingering in your mind for the rest of the day. One stick wouldn’t hurt. Another one wouldn’t, too. And another one should be fine, right?

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

The irony. You didn’t even have the time to recoil before the main cause of your stress showed up in front of you, frowning after he snatched the cigarette stick out of your lips. He was quick to throw it to the ground, stomp on it like he would do with your heart, and give you a questioning look that made you scoff at the ridiculousness of this situation. This could be a dream for heaven’s sake. Or a hallucination. There was no way Satoru Gojou would be standing right in front of you just as you were thinking about him.

“Since when have you been doing this?” he questioned again, holding your wrist this time to make you realize that his presence or this interaction wasn’t just a figment of your imagination. It would have been better that way, but the reality was, Satoru was there and he wasn’t the least bit pleased. “I know you’re mad at me and this isn’t the right time for me to chew you out like this, but…” he paused, taking your cigarette pack. “I can’t believe you’re fucking smoking right now, Y/N. Did you get this habit from Toji?”

Okay. Gojou could be way out-of-line sometimes, but this was the apex of it.

“Don’t bring Toji into this,” you snapped back, shooting him a glare that could easily kill. “What are you doing here?”

You could see how deep his inhale was just by the loudness of his sigh after it. His face showed a combination of yearning, regret, frustration, and pity as if he was deciding which emotion should dominate him more. But among the multitude of emotions that were drowning him right now like a tidal wave, he looked all the more exhausted. Whether it was dealing with you, trying to make amends with you, or simply being around you—you could tell that he wanted to drop his constant need to care for you because it was beginning to tire him out.

He didn’t really answer your question, and instead, asked one of his own. “Are you smoking because of stress?” he asked, trying to mask the sympathy in his eyes. “It’s bad for you. Set a good example for Sachiro.”

You’re bad for me, you wanted to say. Why did it even matter to him, anyway? You were nothing more than just a mother to his child. Anything outside that role was completely not his business anymore. The fact that he was even within the vicinity of your office was ridiculous, because you were already having a bad day and his presence was adding further into it. “Don’t you dare talk about setting a good example to my son like you’re so righteous yourself.”

“Y/N, come on.” He reached for your hand once more as if trying to show how much he cared or how worried he was with what you were doing to yourself because of him. “I don’t want you to—”

“Keep your fucking distance, Gojou. You’re not in the place to give a damn about me anymore,” you raged, withdrawing your wrist and breathing heavily as you tried to keep yourself from further exploding. You would have. You were so close to cursing him off, but you saw the flash of pure shock in his eyes, and that was how you realized what you just did. All these violent reactions, these unusual outbursts—these were not you. This was not the meek, soft-spoken ex-wife that he was once married to.

“Toru?”

Unfortunately, Gojou no longer had enough attention span to listen when he looked away, only to turn to his new woman with a genuinely worried expression painted on his face as soon as he saw her coming out of the building with a hand on her cheek. You realized that he was actually here to pick her up and was doing everything that a caring boyfriend would; checking every inch of her face to see how bad she was hurt and asking her what happened and whether she was okay. You didn’t know how to react the moment he turned back to you with his tired, yet passively accusatory eyes. “Did something happen?”

You knew that his question actually translated to: ‘Did you slap her?’ With your thorough knowledge about his acquired trauma from physical violence, you felt the sudden need to clear your name, but you didn’t know if you should be grateful that it was already your best friend who did the part in doing such. “Nothing happened. It was an accident.” Her tone was almost begging before she started tugging his arm. “Let’s just go, please.”

Satoru didn’t want to let it go, but decided that it was best to just leave it be as he glanced at you with a slightly detached gaze. “I’ll see you in a couple of days,” he reminded, referring to the dreaded New York trip together with Sachiro.

A conflicted look from him and an apologetic gaze from her. That was all that you received before they got inside the car and left you alone and miserable in that parking lot. You watched his car fade into view with her on the passenger seat and him probably holding her hand as he drove through the street. Just when you thought you could actually stomach the sight of him and her together, it would be a big fat lie to say that it didn’t sting. It stung worse than the times he ran after Sera than to stay behind with you. Worse than when he used to treat you like a mistress rather than a wife.

You must be going crazy, indeed. Who in their right mind would cry over her ex-husband in the middle of the parking lot? Why would you even shed tears when you were the one who wanted him to find someone else and move on? This was becoming a never-ending loop because you were letting yourself be affected by it. It shouldn’t be that way. Never.

“Toji.” You were doing your hardest to conceal the weakness in your voice as you pressed your phone into your right ear. “I-I need you… right now. Please.”

“Hey, I was just about to pick-up Sachi from daycare. Is everything okay?”

Wiping your eyes, you looked at the dull skies wondering if the universe was trying to reflect all these emotions running inside of you. “Yeah… Can you come soon?”

He didn’t really hesitate to answer, quickly understanding that he had to drop everything else right now and be with you. “Alright, I’ll be there.”

Satoru was conflicted, but he didn’t know what exactly made him feel that way. Was it because he saw you smoking in the parking lot? Or was it because he could tell that you gave Akemi a tongue-lashing after catching her half-naked at the penthouse a few days ago? Either way, both options were not very you. And he couldn’t understand why you were slowly starting to look less and less like the person he knew, which was confusing on his part because you had been adamant on telling him to forget about you. You were rigid on your decision to not let him enter your life as your husband for the second time around. He told you he still loved you, but you said you loved another. He told you he wanted to work things out and make your family complete again, but you said you were already doing that with someone else. Gojou knew his hands weren’t clean and the reason you may be acting that way was because out of all the women he could have been with, it had to be Akemi Hirai. Your best friend. Your confidante. Your business partner. She was a territory he shouldn’t have crossed, yet he did.

But, at the same time, she was the only person who had been there for him during his lowest. She was the company he needed when his heart was the loneliest. He couldn’t even remember the amount of times she came to his aid when he was crying over his memories of you, memories that he could no longer hold onto. Akemi brought peace to his heart, and if there was anyone else he could be with, it would be her.

It was becoming more and more clear to him how he felt about her.

Although, voicing that out loud was a different story. Keeping it in his thoughts was for the best because he didn’t want to lead Akemi on. She didn’t deserve that nor did she deserve to feel like a substitute for someone else. He wanted to be a hundred percent sure about being with her before he could fully confess his real feelings for her. It could still develop through time, perhaps far better and more passionate than what he was sharing with her right now, but until then, settling for what they had at this moment in time was for the better. What was important was that both parties were clear about diving into this relationship.

He wasn’t ready for commitment and she understood that. She was willing to wait for him. She was helping him move on in the least painful way. Where else could he meet such a person like her?

She was gentle, motherly, sensitive, and intuitive. She was classy and sophisticated. She knew how to dress nicely. Her nails were always clean and pretty. Her smile was very charming. Her laugh, endearing. She was the perfect woman anyone could have.

“Why’d you suddenly want to go to the mall?” she asked, intertwining their hands together as she looked up at him with her beautiful doe eyes. Her question made him cut out of his trance, remembering that they were strolling around the galleria.

He touched the small wound on her cheek as if stroking it could make it heal faster. “Nothing,” he said. “Just a last minute idea.”

Truthfully, Gojou wasn’t sure why he had brought her there. All he knew was that he had a lot going on in his mind while he was driving through the city and the next thing he knew, he was already pulling up at the galleria out of his natural instinct. But since they were already there, he might as well buy her a little something. Anything. And then his eyes caught sight of Chanel as if the high-end boutique was pulling his feet with such gravity that it led him to go inside the store while hand-in-hand with the woman next to him.

“Mr. Gojou, how are you?”

Right. The staff knew him so well, especially for the amount of times he had been there with his ex-wife when you two were still married.

“Are you looking for anything specific?” One of the familiar ladies that used to assist you approached him with a lingering stare towards Akemi. “Perhaps for your…?”

He cleared his throat. “Yeah, can you… uh,” he turned towards the rack of tweed sets, “Do you have any new collections?”

“Yes, absolutely,” said another lady, “Right this way, sir.”

It was easy to notice how the staff were exchanging glances at the sight of Satoru and Akemi together, but his mind was far too distracted by the nostalgia of being in that place alone to even care about his surroundings. All he did was look back at Akemi and encourage her to try out the newest collections that they had, thinking that she was oblivious about what was going through his head. “You go and pick whatever you like.”

Although she was clearly not used to it, Akemi did eventually try on some of the outfits he specifically had chosen for her. They were Chanel’s signature tweed sets that he always found to be very elegant, and he definitely wasn’t wrong that they would suit her when she came out of the dressing room to show him how the clothes wrapped her small frame perfectly.

He could see your smile through her face, your excitement when you tried the outfits on, and the shine in your eyes when you looked at yourself in the mirror. Except, Gojou had to remind himself that you weren’t her. That his mind was just messing with him.

No, this was wrong. Why was he thinking about you while he was with her?

He had to have some sort of distraction. Something so tangible that all of his senses would go numb.

The one way he was able to overcome that dilemma was by sharing yet another steamy exchange with Akemi later that night. He couldn’t remember who initiated first, but it must have been the equal desire that they had for each other when they dove straight into a heated makeout session the moment they stepped inside his bedroom. One thing led to another. First he was kissing her lips, then her collarbones, then her inner thighs—devouring her completely with his lust-driven actions, doing the most by pleasuring her body using his own.

She was a giver just as she was a receiver. Not that he didn’t expect her to be so experienced when it came to sex, but she definitely knew what she was doing without any guidance from him. Perhaps he just wasn’t used to it anymore. Perhaps he had just forgotten how it felt to have sex with someone who didn’t rely on him to initiate the next steps they should do. Fuck, he couldn’t even remember the last time someone stared at his eyes while putting his hardened member inside her mouth the way she did. She knew her power over him while at his most vulnerable state, ruining his masculine ego and destroying it with her own feminine pride.

And in the midst of their intimate session, Gojou was zoning out while he was sliding a condom across his shaft, ready to enter her from the back. His mind was giving him a flash of memory, not a distant but recent one from two days ago.

“I still can’t believe you did that, Mom. You’re being ridiculous.”

His mother wasn’t exactly showing the slightest hint of regret on her face despite knowing full well that sending the custody claim almost made you lose your mind. She was keeping a straight face as she sat on the barstool next to him, taking a sip of wine from her glass while he, on his own, was downing a glass of scotch. “She had it coming.”

Satoru sighed his frustration away. “Don’t do that again or today’s the last time you’ll ever see me.”

“What are you talking about?” His mother frowned. “Who was there for you when you were trying to end your own life because of the lies she told you, huh? You’re feeling bad for her now, but did she feel bad for you back then? You missed three years of your son’s life because she was being too spiteful towards you.”

He had never met someone more stubborn than his own mother, but maybe this was a clear sign for Satoru to realize where he must have acquired that one similar trait of his. After all, people always made it seem that he was more like his dad even though he despised being compared to his father. To say that his mother was a complete angel was a lie. But neither was he. “Whatever, just don’t… Just leave Y/N alone. She’s still the mother of my child and I don’t want us to keep fighting. At least, for Sachi’s sake.”

His mother finished her glass of wine before turning the stool towards his direction. There was a minute of silence that passed between them before she spoke again. “I just don’t want you to get back with her, darling. You two are toxic together.”

Funny, because he could say the same thing for her and his father. “Well, it’s not gonna happen now. Y/N’s gonna hate me forever.”

“What, ‘cause she rejected you again?”

“No,” he countered, shaking his head and chugging all the remaining liquor on his glass. “She knows about the thing I have with Akemi now.”

Her mouth fell open, gasping as she did so. “Y-You… and Akemi? Are you together?”

Satoru expected this reaction from her, but didn’t think she would actually be more fixated on his new relationship than the effect it would bring on her ex-daughter-in-law. “It’s not something to be proud of, Mom.”

“Well, I’m proud of you,” she still stressed that fact, “It’s nice to hear that you’re finally moving on, Satoru. Y/N is not good for you, but I know Akemi will be. I like her and I know she’ll make you a lot happier than Y/N ever did.”

“You’re still awake?” Gojou let out a yawn as he felt the heaviness of his eyelids telling him that it was time to sleep. He tried checking the time on his phone, but realized that he still had the photo of you and Sachiro as his lockscreen. He wasn’t planning on changing it anytime soon, but considering that Akemi saw it, he was expecting that she would have something to say, yet nothing came out of her mouth. She simply stayed silent while laying on his chest, letting him touch the slope of her naked back as she slightly raised her head to meet his eyes. He had already closed his phone and placed it back on the nightstand. “What, did I not tire you enough?”

“Shut up.” She hid her reddened cheeks and smiled on the crook of his neck. Her hand was placed on his chest, fingers tracing his collarbones. “No, I’m just thinking about how you’re gonna manage New York and all.”

Satoru’s breathing was still for a few seconds, keeping his eyes glued on the ceiling as he held her on your marital bed. “You’re scared that the infamous cheater is gonna cheat on you or something?” he joked, a distasteful one, but still meant to ease whatever was burdening her mind. “Not gonna happen even if we’re in an open relationship.”

“That’s not it,” Akemi quickly replied, denying his claims, “I’m more like hoping that you’ll be patient with her. She gets angry a lot these days and we know we’re the main cause of it, so please. Please don’t try to argue with her, okay? If she says hurtful things, learn to understand her.”

He wrapped his arms tighter around her smaller frame. Gojou was certain that he was about to doze off soon now that he had closed his eyes and let the exhaustion pull him into a good night’s sleep. “I won’t,” he spoke his words slowly, drifting off to dreamland, “I won’t make her angry.”

“Okay.” He felt her lips kissing his jaw just before the both of them gradually matched the calmness of each other’s chest. One heart, one soul, two bodies. “Good night, ‘Toru.”

…

In the middle of his sleep, he mumbled, “Good night, Y/N.”

On the other side of the city, you woke up in the middle of your slumber, facing the handsome face of your fiancé, Toji Zen’in, who had already drifted off to dreamland while holding you in his muscular arms. No wonder people were jealous of you for having such a refined man like him in your bed every night you go to sleep. The thing was, you had no reason to feel discontented with your life since you already had everything. You were wealthier than the average person, you ran a business that you were passionate about, you had an adorable son who meant the world to you, and you had Toji. There was nothing else you could ask for. And if by remembering Sera’s words back then, you would be selfish to ask for anything more because others didn’t even have half the fortune you had.

So, in that sense, you should be happy.

You had to be happy.

You were happy, right?

“Go to sleep,” whispered a half-awake Toji, stirring from his sleep as he held your waist tighter like you were his comfort pillow. “You alright?”

Sighing inwardly, you traced the scar on his lips. “You’re so gorgeous.”

His lazy, boyish smile came into view. “I know that,” he joked, closing his eyes as if succumbing into a few more minutes of sleep. “Don’t tell me you’re turned on right now ‘cause I can go all night. Doggy. Missionary. Cowboy. Reverse cowboy.”

Were you? Maybe a little. And maybe you had to have a distraction from your ‘source of happiness’.

“That’s very naughty of you, Mr. Zen’in,” you replied, cheeks heating up from his vulgar words. Your hand was finding its way to his toned chest, while his were traveling to the curves of your waist and hips. You could feel him angling his body to make sure he had access to slide your underwear just a little above your knee, gliding his hand along your thigh before letting his fingers touch your sensitive bud. “T-Toji—”

A smirk appeared on his lips. “Hm? I thought you wanted this?”

You nodded, taking a deep breath. “Y-Yeah, I…” There was no use holding back from moaning because his fingers knew how to move perfectly well, playing with your clit in circular motions before sliding two of them into your entrance. “...Fuck.”

“Feel good?” His hot breath tickled your neck, moving his mouth from your collarbones down to the valley between your breasts. “Wish you knew how delicious you are.”

Another moan, much louder this time around, escaped your lips when he attached his mouth onto your breast, sucking the round mass with his tongue doing God’s work. You were so high into sexual desire that your back arched on its own, dominated by the pleasing sensation all over your body. You could barely even respond to him when he started asking why your mood had been so down when he picked you up after work or why you still wouldn’t tell him whatever happened back there.

“It’s nothing,” you replied, disregarding the painful encounter you’ve had with your ex-husband and your best friend. “...Just work stuff.”

As you closed your eyes, you could feel Satoru’s fingers entering deep inside of you, deep enough to have reached your g-spot and have you moaning wildly. It felt unreal. It felt goddamn out of this world. But since Satoru was familiar with every inch of your body, his touch alone could easily send you to seventh heaven. He was heavenly. He was saintly. That mesmerizing gaze of his paired with his sky blue eyes and messy white hair. His beautiful, beautiful face, watching you beg for him to do more. More. More…

“Satoru…”

The intense feeling suddenly stopped, awakening you back to your senses as you opened your eyes and saw the dark, animalistic gaze of Toji Zen’in. “What’d you say?” he asked in a deep voice.

Out of panic, you slightly pulled away and shook your head. “N-Nothing. What did I say?”

“I thought I heard you say his…” he trailed off, pulling his fingers out of you and instead, placing a tight grip on your hip. “Did you?”

“No, no. Not at all.” Your voice came in a hushed tone, looking at his eyes intently. “Why would I do that?”

He let out an exasperated sigh, falling back into the bed with one arm under his head. “Don’t play games with me, Y/N.”

Desperation led you to climb on top of him, sitting on his crotch before encasing your lips with his soft ones. “I’m not,” you mumbled, kissing him again. “I never did. I promise.”

Yet, despite your attempts at inviting him for an open-mouthed kiss, he had already lost the interest to engage in sexual activities with you. He didn’t say anything nor tried to argue about the shit that you said, but he did stay silent for a couple of minutes, simply holding you on top of him without another word to utter. It scared you to think what was going through Toji’s mind, but this was also all your fault. Why, in the first place, did you even let your mind imagine that white-haired toxic ex-husband of yours when you had Toji Zen’in in front you?

Perhaps in this relationship, you were the toxic one.

You were the poison that could kill the life out of the man who only wanted to love and heal you.

“Toji, I’m sorry…”

He held his breath. “Should I be concerned that you’re going on a trip with him?”

“No, it’s…” Pulling away, you gave him a look of combined sincerity and denial. “We’re just gonna fix Sachiro’s papers, you know that. We won’t even be staying in the same room.”

Fixing Sachiro’s papers. Dealing with his dual citizenship. Changing his last name to Gojou. Solidifying your son’s identity as the son of Satoru Gojou. That’s all there is to it. All the technical matters.

“Is he staying at a hotel or are you letting him stay at your apartment in Manhattan?” he asked, although there was no hint of suspicion in his voice. Or at least, he must be good at hiding it.

You chose to be honest. “I have to let him stay at my apartment,” was your answer, leaning your head on his shoulder. “Only because Sachi wants his dad around all the time. We’re just trying our best to co-parent.”

Toji’s dry humor took over. “You sure you’re not gonna let him fuck you senseless?” His tone was laced with resentment. “And then you’ll come home to me crying about how he got you pregnant for the second time. You’d better kiss our marriage goodbye if that happens.”

“What kind of person do you think I am?” you retorted, annoyed by his word of choice as if you were a cheating scumbag. “If he’s gonna get someone pregnant, that won’t be me.”

His eyes sparked with curiosity. “What do you mean?”

Deciding between telling and not telling, you figured that the latter would only cause more drama to bounce back at you like a boomerang. “He’s with Akemi.”

It looked like Toji didn’t hear it right. “Akemi? How’d that happen?”

“I don’t know what kinda relationship they have, okay?” you snapped, no longer wanting to keep up with this topic further. “I just caught them. They said they’re seeing each other, but it’s complicated or whatever—I don’t really give a damn. But he’s with her is all I know.”

Toji went silent for a few minutes, unable to determine whether he should find the situation pitiful or humorous. One thing for sure though, was that he found it unbelievable. “That son of a bitch,” he muttered under his breath, smiling in disbelief, “So this is what’s ruining your mood these days, huh?”

Your eyebrows furrowed in response. “It’s not.”

“Your ex-husband slept with your best friend. Yeah, I’d be mad, too.” His comment wasn’t really meant to irk you, but he successfully did so. Minus the intention. “Getting mad is understandable, getting jealous is questionable. Which one are you?”

Fuck it. “I said I’m not jealous. Will you stop now?” You sunk yourself under the covers, turning your back on Toji. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Now that he knew and you saw his reaction, you wondered what it would be like if Gen and Ian knew. Or if your dad knew. What would they think of Satoru? What would they think of Akemi? No, nevermind that. What would they think of you? Another fool in a deck of cards? Another game that was played with?

You didn’t want to know.

Ideally, you and Satoru really shouldn’t have gone to this New York trip together as if your family was still intact, because as much as you wished that that was true, you were far from that. You were only playing house for the sake of your son, but that also meant putting you in a painfully awkward situation together as ex-spouses. He had a girlfriend back home and you had a loving and loyal fiancé who proved the whole word that he was loyal to you. And although your respective partners were supporting the whole co-parenting situation, you knew by yourselves that this was nowhere to near to being comfortable for them, too.

“Everything okay?” You heard the familiar voice of your past, only to see his dull, blue eyes taking a peek at you.

“Yeah,” you replied, almost inaudibly. You just boarded the plane while Satoru was talking to the pilot, and found your spot on one of the beds in his private jet. It took a few minutes for him to get to where you were now. “Why?”

He shrugged, eyeing a sleepy Sachiro next to you. “Just wanna make sure you and Sachi are comfortable.”

You didn’t know what else to say, so you just looked back at your peaceful son who was hugging his elmo plush like the cute angel he was. Even though he was growing so fast, you could still remember how he was just as small as a puppy in your arms when he was first born. The memory of it caused you to press your lips on his forehead, caressing his soft, white hair. At some point while observing the scene, your son’s father thought it would be a good idea to slide the blanket further up your shoulders, acting as though he was only doing it to keep Sachiro warm. And later, he sat on the reclined airplane seat, drinking the coffee that was served to him by the stewardess.

It was crazy.

Crazy that Toji could be lying next to you and you would feel nothing. But Gojou was meters away from you and your mind was on a never-ending race.

Just before noon, the airplane landed safely at JFK airport and Satoru’s driver took you straight to Central Park Towers, treated like a V.I.P. by security just because your ex-husband was Japan’s third richest person and second most influential businessman. At times like these, you would almost forget the power Satoru held even before he was the chairman. You two were almost royalty. Now that he was leading the Gojou Group, his reputation only grew more despite the scandal of your broken marriage. He knew not to share his relationship publicly anymore nor did he expose Sachiro to any of his social media. It was a mutual decision for you to keep your son away from the spotlight knowing the scrutiny and the lack of privacy that would enter your lives once again—all the unnecessary noise, the unwanted comments, the unruly attention. Besides, for safety reasons, Sachiro had to be hidden from the public since he would become the sole heir to his father’s conglomerate, inheriting his parents combined assets that could one day make him the richest and most sought after bachelor in Japan.

“Mamaaa!” A lively Sachi came running to you as soon as he entered the lobby of the apartment suites, his father following him behind.

“Careful, baby!” you said, standing at the lobby while talking to your housekeeper, “You might trip.”

Satoru decided to carry his son after noticing your worried expression and immediately walked towards you. He was all smiles as he looked at Sachiro’s cheerful blue eyes. “He seems a little excited, isn’t he?”

“He lived here for almost three years,” you answered, signaling a quick ‘thank you’ to your housekeeper before guiding your boys to the elevator. “He must’ve missed the place. Did you, Sachi?”

“Yes, mama~”

It was a little bittersweet for your ex-husband, though. Especially the moment he stepped inside the apartment, looking at every corner and realizing that it was the same place you had lived in back when he was suffering from emotional distress on the other side of the world. This apartment was where his own child grew up in and he had no idea he had even existen then. Not only did that make you a terrible ex-wife, but it also made you a heartless mother. You had separated them and now you were taking him to the place where you had his son hidden from him.

That wasn’t your intention. That was never your intention.

“I’m glad you chose a nice place,” he complimented, acting as casual as possible. “Does your father own this place or?”

“Gen loaned it to me,” you said, holding Sachiro’s hand while letting Satoru follow you closely. You stopped at one of the guest rooms and urged the tall man to feel at home. “You can stay here for the meantime.”

“I don’t wanna make things uncomfortable for Akemi.” He looked away, avoiding your eyes. “I can just stay at a hotel—”

“Dada!” His mini-me tugged at his hand along with yours. You already knew that those puppy eyes would look back at the both of you. “Sachi wants Dada to stay.”

Frankly, you weren’t upset a while ago, but since he had to bring up Akemi and make it seem like her feelings were his priority, you lost all the will to be kind. Was their relationship that deep for him to act like such a loyal, righteous partner? Where was that same loyalty when he married you? “Do whatever.”

Noticing the tension between his parents, Sachiro’s eyes started to well up with tears and that was all it took for you two to completely focus your attention back to your 3-year old.

“Sachi…” Satoru tried to reach for his son, but you (spitefully) beat him to it.

“It’s okay, my baby. Don’t cry,” you comforted your son, picking him up and carrying him in your arms, “Daddy will still visit you every day even if he's staying at a hotel.”

Satoru, as guilty as ever, shook his head and wiped his son’s eyes. “No. I’ll stay here for Sachi, okay? Don’t cry anymore.”

It felt like hours sitting on that enormous sofa, staring at the television screen even though your mind was miles away. You had already texted Toji good night and reassured him that everything was fine, but you still couldn’t stop thinking about what he was doing back home. Sachiro had fallen asleep almost half an hour ago, and how you wished you could also enjoy your slumber while snuggling under those heated blankets, but how could you? How could you be comfortable in the presence of an ex-husband who was coming out of his room, freshly showered in his low-waisted sweatpants and tight-fitting black shirt? Not to mention how he was obviously flexing his arms while drying his mop of messy, white hair with a towel. Ridiculous. A little seductive, but definitely ridiculous.

“Still up?” His sky blue eyes met yours as soon as he looked up.

You adjusted your position on the sofa and leaned on the corner, pulling a small cushion to place above your thighs. “Can’t sleep.”

And the night went on just like that. You, sitting on the couch. Him, sitting on the other end as if going near you might suffocate him. It didn’t help that the silence was beginning to be too uncomfortable. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking of. Perhaps Akemi? Perhaps you? You doubted the latter.

“I think…” You cleared your throat to escape from the awkward tension. “I think I’m gonna go for a night swim. You can go to sleep next to Sachi tonight, just make sure not to wake him up.”

Satoru’s curious gaze trailed on you as you got up and tightened your robe. “It’s a little too late at night to go for a swim, no?”

You couldn’t even face him as you responded. “I need to clear my mind off some things.” And by things, you meant him and this whole mess of a situation that you had put yourselves together. Two divorcees staying in the same living space wasn’t exactly a brilliant idea to begin with.

“Want me to join you?” asked Satoru, and he himself could not believe he asked that question. He may have asked it out of his innate care for you, probably worried for no damn reason. What he didn’t realize was how wrong his suggestion was, especially that you two were dating other people now.

If only you were such a cruel person, how ironic would it be if you allowed Satoru Gojou to join you for a quick night swim?

How ironic would it be for you to feel each other’s warmth under the crystal pool, getting carried away by the romantic lights that lit the city?

How ironic would it be if the intense sexual tension ended with you doing things under the sheets, completely disregarding the fact that the both of you had respective partners who were overthinking this exact NYC trip?

How ironic would it be if, for once in your life, you became the cheater?

Thankfully, you didn’t have the mindset of a cheating person.

However, it was Satoru who took back his initial offer. “Never mind. Forget I even asked that,” he muttered, sounding annoyed more so to himself rather than at you.

You offered a nonchalant shrug. “Okay.”

And as you were heading to the poolside, you could sense Gojou’s presence behind even though he just very clearly rejected the idea of going on a swim with you. He was still the same confusing man that you married before. Only now, he was ten times worse. “Wait, Y/N.”

“What?” You turned around, annoyed at his push-and-pull behavior. At this point, you didn’t really care what he was thinking of anymore. All you did was to take off your robe, leaving yourself with only your underwear on before you slowly got down on the pool.

Gojou, on the other hand, was ridding himself of his shirt and sweatpants to join you in the pool with just his boxers on. What even was this situation? You two had that same question in your head despite swimming at the edge of the pool to stare at the cityscape. “I only asked to join you because I wanted to talk. That’s all.”

You wanted to laugh at how he was clearing his intentions to you.

“Why do you sound defensive around me?” He couldn’t see it, but you were rolling your eyes as you leaned against the pool coping. “I never knew Akemi would be the jealous type.”

Satoru looked surprised by your claim, seeming as though he didn’t recognize the kind of person you were anymore. You were never this unreasonably sarcastic nor acidic with your words during your marriage even at the height of his affair with Sera, yet you had just become the worst version of yourself. “She isn’t,” he muttered, finding his spot next to you, “But I don’t wanna give her a reason to be.”

You huffed. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. You make it sound like I’m gonna make a move on you or something.”

“I never said that.”

“You were thinking about it.”

“Says who?”

What is it about Satoru Gojou that makes him so irritating? Was it the way he talks? The way he thinks he’s always right? The way he acts like he’s such a clean person?

“Please,” you retorted, bitterly. “Toji isn’t comfortable having you around me, either. Just so you know.”

“Can we just—” There. His last string of patience finally snapped and his true colors came to show when he grabbed your wrist and made you face him. The spiteful Satoru. He was back, even just for a second. “Y/N, I’m not trying to argue with you here. I’m trying to talk to you like a civilized person. You’re the mother of my child and I respect you. I’d still care for you and will always protect you, but I want you to at least act like a fucking person around me. You’re a grown woman.”

Wasn’t it bad that he, of all people, was basically telling you to grow up? Memories of your marriage and all the back-and-forth arguments that you had with him flashed before your eyes. He should be the last one to say such a thing. “You’re the one who’s been crossing the fucking line with me since day one, Gojou. Don’t tell me to—”

“And do you wish I had just killed myself for you to forgive me?!” The ridges of his neck became prominent, making his anger much visible now. He was staring down at you intensely, backing you against the edge of the pool, trapping you in between his arms. “I’d have probably done that. But you…You did unforgivable things to me and look how easy it was for me to forgive you.”

You looked away, not trying to have this conversation again. Not trying to have your guilt eat your heart out. Maybe your behavior really had become too much and it was about time you take a step back and realize how ridiculous you had been acting because no way was this man trying to make a better point than you.

“I slept with Akemi, I know. She’s your best friend, I fucking know. But I never did that to get back at you,” his voice bore so much authority in them. “I begged on my knees just to be with you again. Swallowed my pride just for you to be my wife again!” His breathing became ragged. “But you chose to move on. You said you love Toji. You said you’d be happier without me, so why don’t I deserve to be happy without you?”

The inability to speak wasn’t because you were at a loss of words. The problem was choosing the right ones. Words that wouldn’t put you in a disadvantageous position. Words that wouldn’t make you look like an unreasonable person.

“You wished me well when you first found out about Akemi and I. You said you don’t care who I choose to date even if that choice is her,” he said, much calmer this time. He was placing his forehead against yours, body pressed against each other. “If that was true, then why are you still so angry with me?”

Your heart raced as you locked eyes with him. His eyes were the same kind of blue that reflected off of the surface of the pool. Anyone could easily get lost in it, but you knew where to place yourself in order not to. “I’m… not angry…”

“Baby, you and I both know that’s not true,” he said with a serious gaze, lifting your chin with his hand.

But you swatted it away, averting your eyes. “Don’t call me baby. You’re being ridiculous.”

With a loud sigh, Gojou gave up and simply placed his forehead on your shoulder, letting you feel the weight of his head and the warmth of his breath. “If you were still my wife, I’d have kissed you right now,” he declared, breathing heavily as if stopping with all of his will to do what he just said. “I’d touch every inch of you, tell you how much I love you, carry you back into that room, and make more beautiful babies with you…”

“Satoru,” you warned just as he pulled away, smiling despite the sorrow in his eyes.

“…But I won’t do that. I’m not gonna do that,” he claimed and sounded like he was convincing himself rather than clearing it up. “Akemi doesn’t deserve a partner who can’t move on from his ex-wife, so I’m doing my best to forget about you.”

Your breathing took a halt. You weren’t sure where those tiny pricks in your heart came from. Toji needed the same. He deserved a wife who wasn’t pining for her ex-husband. Satoru was just being true.

“Then, forget about me,” you gave a barely audible reply.

Gojou pulled away and kept his distance now, showing that he was indeed trying to stick to his words. “I will.”

Why did it hurt when it shouldn’t have?

“Good.”

He looked at you with eyes that carried a million emotions. But what was most visible was him seeing the light, probably realizing that he truly was doing the right thing and that he was proud of himself for being able to resist you. Because then, that only meant he was only a few steps away from the path of moving on. That if he could let you go, then he could live a better life.

It only made sense why he pulled that little stunt back there—being close enough to you was probably his way of differentiating how his body reacted to you versus how it reacted to Akemi. And now that he was able to determine whatever difference that might be, it would be easier for him to know what exactly to avoid.

After all, you two would be spending the rest of your lives as a present mom and dad to Sachiro. Co-parenting was your only connection and the only way to make that work without falling for each other was to rid yourselves of any kind of attraction towards one another.

Good for him.

“Let’s be good parents, Y/N.” Satoru looked at you from across the pool. “Let’s set a good example for Sachi and show that divorced parents can still be good parents. Let’s not be toxic to each other, especially not in front of him.” His words were coming from his personal experience and as you knew the whole history behind the mess within his family, you were truthfully considerate of his words. His traumatic experiences were what shaped him to become the problematic man you once married, and he was doing his best not to let his own son be the same. “I’ll provide Sachiro with everything he needs and I’ll always be present in his life, so please let me have as much time with him as possible. I’m making up for the three years I lost with him.”

You nodded. “I don’t have a problem with that.

As the established relationship you had with Gojou became more professional and strictly transactional, the distance between you two also grew more and more. There was no longer any space for love and intimacy. There was only familiarity and acquaintanceship.

“Go to sleep soon,” he said without sending another glance your way, climbing out of the pool and reaching for his clothes, “We have a long day tomorrow.”

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru angst #gojo angst #jjk angst

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