#//he will talk to him but hes like a coworker

[aperrywilliams]

That Wasn't Fake (Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader)

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Author Masterlist

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader.

Request: Can you write a Spencer fic where the reader is kind of quiet and shy when she begins working at the BAU, and Spencer has a crush on her, and then they have a case, and she has to like to seduce the unsub lowkey and everyone kind of like...how is she going to do this shes not very outgoing but when she does shes really good at it, and everyone is surprised and impressed.

Summary:  You're shy and reserved. Spencer has a crush on you, and unbeknown to him, you have a crush on him. Maybe the cat can get out of the bag when you have to step aside of your comfort zone to catch an elusive unsub.

Word Count: 4.2k (no self control here)

Warnings: Words like 'fuck' and 'bitch'. A rant about self-doubt. Typical CM stuff: unsubs, killings, etc.

A/N: Another request I loved! It should have been a little shorter, but I'm having a hard time getting to the point these days. Please keep sending requests!

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Spencer knows it is inappropriate, but he can't help it. You're coworkers, and that itself sets a boundary, so he shouldn't be thinking of trespassing.

But the crush he has on you seems to grow every day.

He doesn't know if it is your beautiful smile, the kindness you show in everything you do, or the enthusiasm you put into every task you are committed to. Since the moment he saw you pass the bullpen glass doors, Spencer knew he was damned.

From that moment, Spencer knew he wanted to know you and learn everything about you. About what you liked, what you hated, and what your fears and dreams were. Everything.

But not much after that revelation in his mind, he understood it wasn't going to be easy to get to you.

You were extremely shy and reserved.

In fact, your first interaction - when Emily introduced you both - consisted of a wave of your hand and a timid 'nice to meet you.'

He thought as time went by, you would loosen and become less bashful and quiet. And in part, he was right. As the months passed, you began to feel more comfortable within the team. You laughed at Luke's jokes, you commented on Rossi's stories, and you could even - when the stars aligned - crack a joke yourself to Tara or Matt.

But beyond that, no one knew much about your life outside of the BAU, unlike JJ, who always talks about her kids and her husband, or Matt, who talks about his kids, too. Or Tara, who recounts her failed dates. Or the same Luke who always shows photos of Roxy.

You, on the other hand, seemed to be an enigma. But Spencer Reid loved decoding enigmas.

At first, he turned his interest in you out of mere scientific curiosity. However, internally, he knew it wasn't just that.

It started with small random questions about the times you worked together: Is this coffee okay? What was the last book you read? Do you think we should buy some donuts for the team?

If you were honest, it picked your interest why, from all people, Dr. Spencer Reid was so adamant in making conversation with you.

From what you knew and from what the team said, Spencer was not a person very interested in things other than work or books. But suddenly, out of nowhere, he asked you what the last movie you saw was or something like that.

You always answered his questions; however, you would have liked to be much more talkative and engage in longer conversations, but your nature stopped you.

'What if I don't have anything more interesting for him to say?'

'Does he just talk to me because he feels sorry for me?'

And that was the big issue: you have never had problems with the way you live your life. You're pretty satisfied with what you do in your job and out of it, too. But you have always thought you are too 'simple' to entertain people's interest.

And to be honest, being surrounded by people with so much experience and big things happening in their lives still intimidates you a bit. So, you usually refrain from talking too much about yourself or anything for that matter.

But with Spencer, things are a bit different. He's always checking on you but respects your boundaries. He has learned that sometimes you just don't want to talk, and he doesn't push.

Despite his interest beyond the professional, Spencer would never do anything to make you uncomfortable. Being able to share time with you will have to be enough for him.

In a way, he has become your protector. He is your backup during interrogations or in situations where you can feel awkward, like the times when some police officers tried to flirt with you and got too close. Sure, you know how to turn them down, but sometimes guys don't get the memo and keep pushing. You're too shy to yell or be aggressive about it.

The team also understands the way you are, and they know it does not make you any less professional. However, they have always been careful not to take you too much out of your comfort zone.

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A whole two weeks and five murders later, the team is stuck trying to catch an unsub who has preferences for killing women after club nights. The profile says he is not interested in just any woman but in those between 25-30 years old who like to flirt with several men in the clubs. But it is not just any type of flirting; it is the type that is initiated and dominated by them. In short, he likes to kill women who are the opposite of submissive. He sees them as predators on a hunting ground.

Another finding in victimology is that the women he kills, in addition to having a specific age range, have very similar physical characteristics. And similar to you.

All his victims have your build, eye color, hair color, and height. It gets to be creepy to a certain point. And it's something difficult to ignore.

Bouncing information and possible strategies, the team agrees they need to be proactive to get him to show up before another killing happens.

"Okay, what options do we have?" Emily asks.

"The witnesses haven't gotten us anywhere," Luke complains.

"Although we've narrowed down his hunting grounds," Rossi shrugs.

"Yeah, we know the clubs where he likes to hunt," JJ backs Rossi.

"But although the profile, we have yet to learn about what to look for there. I mean, we know what the unsub wants, but not how he looks like." This time, it's Tara who speaks.

You've rarely seen Emily bite her tongue when she wants to say something, but it's clear that she has something on her mind, and she doesn't know how to put it, or maybe the problem is something else. You look at her out of the corner of your eye, and she looks back at you; what do those eyes say? They look like they're even apologetic.

It's a fraction of the time before she comes back to behave like herself.

"We need to lurk him. It's the only way," she says. And everyone's eyes - yours included - are on her immediately.

"Lurk him?" Matt repeats.

"Yes. And all we know who should be the one going undercover to do that," Emily adds, looking at you this time.

That's it—the elephant in the room.

Of course, you're the ideal candidate. Well, you're perfect in the physical aspect because if we talk about the victim's personality and yours...

There's silence in the room, and you can feel like the team's eyes are all on you.

Do they expect you to say no? To refuse? From your perspective, it's not a question; it's more like the option you all have to catch the guy.

"It's true (Y/N) would be the closest to the unsub type, but there are a lot of things to take into account," Matt says. And you know perfectly well what's behind his words, even if he doesn't say it directly.

And that's okay; it's perfectly plausible they have their doubts. It is not enough to look like the victims for the operation to work.

But if there is one thing you are sure of, it's that you will always give your all to your job, even if that means becoming a completely different person.

"I can do it," you mumbled so quietly that if the AC weren't in the lower setting, people wouldn't have heard you.

"But (Y/N), you know about this guy. It's dangerous," Matt points, a frown on his face.

"Not to mention he likes rough interactions," Luke adds.

"You don't have to do it if you feel uncomfortable." This time, it is JJ who voices her opinion. And you know, that's the closest reason to the team's main concern.

And the fact you can blow up the entire plan.

Spencer stays in silence. Internally he's freaking out thinking of you having to lurk on the unsub, but he knows you are a professional. And he feels a kind of deja vu.

When he was younger, the team would have said the same about him doing something like that. Spencer knows what it's like when people baby you, making you feel insecure. Sure, he hasn't had to worry about that anymore. Spencer is almost forty, and no one would dare to tell him he can't do something. Not after all the things he has been through.

"JJ is right, Bella. You don't have to do it. We can think of another way," Rossi backs JJ.

That's when Spencer notices the slight frown on your face. It's invisible to everyone but him. He knows it's there.

You stay collected, even when everyone on the team has something to say about how bad the idea of you going undercover to lurk the unsub is.

Emily is who stops everyone's rant.

"Guys, hey. If (Y/N) is telling us she can do it, we're going to do it. Of course, we'll be there to back up her and catch this unsub."

And this is how the discussion is settled.

Emily sends everyone out with a task to prepare for the night. Today is Friday, and the unsub will surely be stalking some new victim. The chances are high.

When it's just you and Spencer in the room, he still looks at you in silence.

"Do you also think I'll not be able to pull off this mission and I'm going to ruin everything?"

You downcast your gaze, exhaling deeply.

"No. I don't think that," Spencer clarifies, and you raise your gaze to meet his eyes. "You are more than capable, (Y/N). The team is worried because you'll be out of your comfort zone in a dangerous situation."

"The team? Not you?" You narrow your eyes to him.

You try not to sound accusatory, but if you're as scared as everyone, you also are fed up with the other's doubts.

Spencer closes the distance between you both but doesn't invade your personal space.

"Of course, I'm worried too! I don't want anything bad to happen to you. But I trust you and your judgment."

Your heart does flip-flops, and you're not sure if it's because Spencer is worried or because, despite that, he trusts you—or both.

"You do?" You ask, not so convinced.

Spencer nods and smiles at you.

"And we'll be there when you catch the guy."

If that is the reassurance you need, you don't mention it. Instead, you grin at Spencer as a promise you'll do your job just how you are supposed to.

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You insist on getting ready in your hotel room. The only assistant you ask for is Emily. She was the one who trusted you first in this, so you'll take every piece of advice she can give you before this night starts.

Everyone has a role in the plan.

Rossi will be the chauffeur who will drive you to the club.

Luke and Spencer would be in the club, mingling with the patrons. JJ, Matt, and Emily would be in the van monitoring the whole situation with cameras and earpieces. Rossi would keep his facade as a driver so he could be at one of the entrances. Tara would be at the club, too, eyeing nothing suspicious going on in the bar because there is a chance the unsub is getting help from the bartender.

When you are in front of the mirror applying the last touch of makeup, Emily is looking at you with a stare you can't decipher.

"What?" you ask, and Emily chuckles.

"Please, don't take this in a bad way, but I never thought I would live the day of seeing you using clothing like this. And Jesus, you look so hot!"

Your cheeks redens.

"It's a little bit odd coming from my boss, don't you think?" you muse, smoothing the fabric of your dress.

"Point taken," Emily raises her hands in defense. "Although I know someone who is going to run out of breath after seeing you."

You let out a scoff. It's not a surprise for you. The BAU girls - boss included - have been trying to set you up with Spencer since forever. You don't entertain the idea only because you don't think it's possible and not because you don't like the concept.

"Come on, don't say that. You are not helping to my nerves."

"Sorry, I'll shut up. We should go, though," Emily says, checking her watch.

One of the SUVs drives you to the van parking point. You needed to review the operation details.

At the back of the van - or commander point - JJ, Luke, Tara, Rossi, Matt, and Spencer see you come up with Emily.

For the best US profilers, they're not doing a good job hiding that they are gawking at you. Surely, no one imagined seeing you in such a revealing outfit. Outfit that, without a doubt, suits you extremely well, highlighting all your body attributes.

Spencer feels like he died and was resurrected after seeing you.

"Okay, guys, we need to check the details again," Emily announces.

The plan is in motion, and everyone is in position.

As expected, you arrive with Rossi at the club, who opens the door for you and helps you descend from the car. Rossi gives you a reassuring smile before letting you go.

Like a switch, you are no longer the shy SSA (Y/L/N). Now you are the woman who is going to take what she wants and attract the unsub attention doing that.

Your walk is determined, and your eyes send out flames of confidence to those who look at you. The music is very loud, something that would usually bother you, but not now. This needs to feel like your environment. That's how you like it, you tell yourself.

Almost instantly, you start to attract the looks of men who are eager for a woman like you.

You exude determination, and you don't go unnoticed.

Walking into the club, you make brief eye contact with Luke, who is on the dance floor. You see Spencer perched in a booth, nursing a beer.

At the same time, Tara is stationed at the bar.

"Remember (Y/N); the unsub expects the woman to approach men. The flirt needs to come from you," Emily reminds you by the earpiece hidden in one of the earrings you're wearing.

"Show time," you mumble to yourself.

You walk seductively to the dance floor, where a young man is dancing with a blonde. You approach and whisper something in his ear. That makes the boy completely lose interest in the blonde and start dancing with you. You smile and cling to the man's body, who wastes no time and takes your hips as if they were his possessions.

That dance certainly has nothing innocent about it. You continue whispering things in the boy's ear, and he looks more and more excited. Once you consider it a reasonable amount of time to have attracted attention, you leave the boy alone and head to the bar. Just a few meters away from Tara, a suspicious man is staring at you. You see him out of the corner of your eye as you order a drink. When the bartender passes it to you, you make subtle eye contact with Tara, who nods, indicating that the drink is clean.

You look next to you and see another man not so subtly looking at you. You know the unsub's profile, and you can't be intimidated or dominated by another man. You are the one who calls the shots. Otherwise, this will not work.

Before the man makes his attempt to seduce you, you turn to him, and with a penetrating look and disdainful voice, you stop him.

"Sorry, honey. Don't waste your time. You're not my type," and with that, you leave to move to the opposite side of the club. The guy huffs, and you're almost sure hearing him call you 'bitch' under his breath.

JJ, who's following the cameras inside the club, sees someone who looks suspect.

"Hey, this guy has been peeking at (Y/N) the entire time, and look, he clenched his fists when (Y/N) turned down that guy at the bar."

Emily confirms JJ's observation before giving you the next instructions.

"(Y/N), you're doing great. We have a possible target. So we need to raise the bet."

You know exactly what Emily means. You both had talked about the strategy to follow, having more details about what you should do than the rest of the team.

Matt and JJ look confused at each other but say nothing.

Your next step is to find another dude to seduce before delivering the coup de grace.

Luke and Spencer keep an eye on you. And while Luke is pleasantly surprised by your audacity, Spencer can't help but feel his stomach tighten. He tells himself it's because he is afraid something bad could happen to you, but inside of him, it's that and the fact of seeing you flirt with other men.

Just like you did with the guy on the dance floor, you attract the attention of another man; this time, you take his hand and pull him to the dance floor.

JJ and Matt's jaws drop to the floor. If Tara, Luke, and Spencer could do the same without giving themselves away, they would have done it, too.

As if it were your second nature, you laugh and move to the music. The man seems to enjoy the moment so much that he takes a bold step by leaning in to kiss you. You let him get closer until his lips are almost on yours. But before touching each other, you pull back with a malicious smile.

"Naughty boy. I'm who says if you can kiss or no," you pout, faking disappointment. Dizzed, the guy cocks his head and sees you walk away.

Matt chirps now. "It's him. Look boss," he tells Prentiss, pointing to the same guy JJ saw before.

There is no longer any doubt that it is him. Now you just have to catch him red-handed.

"(Y/N), we got him. It's time for the last play," Emily tells you.

With Emily's instruction, you go to the bar for another drink before heading over to where Spencer is sitting.

He tries to play it off, but he has no idea why you're approaching him.

"Is this seat taken, handsome?" You ask, with your drink in hand.

"N- no. Please," Spencer gestures to the booth on his front, but you opt to perch to his side. Spencer thinks he never has been this close to you. He looks at your eyes, and it's like you are a totally different person. It's a little bit contradictory for him, to be honest. He already likes you just as you are, but this version of you? It's driving him insane.

Some resemblance of your true self looks with a kind of curiosity the nervousness on Spencer. You don't think much about it; you assume he's playing the nervous guy who is baffled by you.

The thing is, Spencer isn't playing. He's definitely baffled by you.

"Are you okay?" You ask him, masking your question with a seductive smile.

"Yeah. Are - are you?" Spencer stutters a bit—something that is perfect for the plan but embarrassing for him.

You get closer to him to speak in his ear.

"This was Emily's idea," you tell him before kissing his ear and gently biting his lobe.

Spencer's breath hitches in his throat, and he thinks he's going to pass out any second. You're not doing it better: your heart is also pumping hard from the adrenaline. Of course, you had imagined something like that with Spencer, but only in your erotic dreams. You wouldn't dare do this on any given day.

You keep teasing Spencer, who, despite the nervousness, tries to play along. If this is the closest he will ever have you, he wants to engrave this in his memory.

"Just a little push, (Y/N). We almost have him," Emily instructs by the earpiece.

You swallow as subtly as possible as you wrap your arm around Spencer's neck, pulling him closer to you.

It's only a second between that action and the fact that you're kissing Spencer like it's your last meal.

Spencer doesn't know how to respond, and you were counting on that; it was enough time for the unsub to notice that you were the one who chose her last prey.

When Spencer is about to reciprocate the kiss, you murmur a 'sorry' into his lips and quickly pull away, giving him a disdainful look—which you hope he understands is fake—before getting up and walking toward the back exit door.

As expected, the unsub follows you towards the back door, and while your back is turned, he believes he has the advantage to attack you. What he doesn't know is that Matt and Luke are ready to lunge at him the moment he tries to touch you.

Everything that happens after is too fast.

The unsub is detained and taken to a patrol car while the team gathers around you, congratulating you on the successful operation. They all apologize to you for their previous apprehensions. You tell them that you understand and that there is no need to apologize. And it's like the switch has been flipped again since you came out of the femme fatale role.

But something is wrong. Spencer is not in the group. You see him a little further away, near the exit door of the club. Emily notices the looks between you both, and she sends the team on different tasks to close the case, leaving you and Spencer there.

There's something in his eyes that you can't decipher. You think it's resentment for using him without warning him what you were going to do.

You shyly approach him.

"It's me again," you tell him, pulling a face. You don't know what to say to make the situation better. Spencer nods.

"Yeah. You did it great, by the way," he compliments you. But it doesn't feel good like Spencer's compliments usually do.

"Look, about the kiss back there-" you start. He needs an explanation as a bare minimum.

"I know. It was fake," Spencer cuts you off.

Those words shouldn't hurt you as they do now. But isn't that the most reasonable thing to believe? The you in the club weren't you, so all you did inside was pretend.

Everything except that kiss.

If it's true you couldn't enjoy it the way you would have liked, you will never forget his lips on yours.

A tense silence takes over the moment. This is not okay.

You can't afford to lie to one of the most important people in your life, even if telling the truth takes you out of your comfort zone.

What the hell! Tonight has already been a total of 180 from a usual day for you.

"It wasn't," you mumble, and you see his eyes flicking to yours in a second.

"What?" Spencer asks, narrowing his eyes at you.

"Everything was fake, but not the kiss," you say with a stadied voice this time.

Spencer's heart races again. If you say you didn't fake it, then what he felt on your part at that moment was real?

"It wasn't fake?" He asks for clarification. You nod.

A smirk forms on Spencer's lips, seeing your cheeks redden.

There you are. The girl he had fallen for in the past two years.

"Well, you know that I am a man of science, right?" he tells you, and you frown because you have no idea where this is going.

"I know," you say with some hesitation.

"And as a man of science, I need evidence of things, you know?"

Now, you are the one who smirks at him.

"Evidence, huh?"

"Yep," he says, emphasizing the 'p' and swaying his body on his feet. You hum.

"I believe I can provide the necessary evidence if you need them," you concede, and Spencer's eyes sparkle with excitement.

Now, he is the one who reaches out and cups your cheeks. Your breathing quickens, but that doesn't stop you from standing on your tiptoes and connecting your lips with his.

This time, there is no unsub, no curious eyes are looking at you, there is no rush, there is no femme fatale role, and above all, this is not fake; it's as real as the fact that your heart beats for him, and his for you.

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Spencer Reid's Taglist: @dreatine @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19 @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @anamiad00msday @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @leahblackk @miaxx03 @missabsey @taintedstranger @khxna @hiireadstuff @pleasantwitchgarden @dysphoricsanity @levi-of-starz @themoonchildwhofell @silver138 @lovelybaka @shinytinywhispers 

[sluttsumu]

“i’m looking for a man in finanace, with a trust fund, 6’5, blue eyes”

⤷ so here’s financebro!gojo

satoru had a routine, and never strayed from it. he always had time for the gym in the morning, made it to the cafe down the road before it got busy, and smoked a cigarette on his break.

he was one of many young, and handsome financiers that pranced the city in the finest suits, adorned with high end watches and a slick smile to pull it off.

women were the least of his worries, and he has the body count to prove it…….in his defence good sex comes from experience, how you choose to label him was your business.

can you tell his coworkers hate to love him?

especially after he closed that one multi-million dollar deal by telling his client that’s he’d catch a drink with her after work.

satoru likes women who don’t like him.

and though that may sound confusing at first, he was willing to die on this hill.

his charm consistently got him in trouble, from messing with best friends to ex-wives, no one was off limits. if he wanted someone he’d have them, at any costs.

that’s where the attraction stems from, the chase. satoru deemed it “the best part” when making advances. he loves when a woman differs from the rest that’d normally be begging him to take them home within an hour of meeting him.

it’s a fun little game that starts with a simple approach, like insistently buying a drink, that brews into small talk where he can gauge her interest. 

the more uninterested she is, the more it turns him on.

he has it all: the money, the looks, the style, the job, in his eyes anyone would be an idiot to turn him down.

so when little miss hard to get declined his offer to get to know her, it just makes him need her that much more.

he likes when girls think they have a good read on him, making it easier to flip the narrative into winning her over with the “mr. nice guy” trope.

not even an hour later he usually has that once independent, stern girl begging him to fuck her harder while her manicure claws at his navy sheets.

stock picking is his form of aftercare and usually it comes with a walk of shame to an uber black and starbucks gift card the next morning.

sluttsumu 2024

[bbyseok]

at first sight? — GOJO SATORU

pairing: gojo satoru x gn!reader

word count: 10k (idek i was possessed)

banner by @/bbyseok , dividers by @/bunnysrph !!

a/n: um hi. its finally here ! thanks to all who liked the teaser, this is my first jjk/gojo fic ever but i really think everyone needs some comfort after jjk chap 261.. and fuck u gege !!

content: soulmate au, gender neutral reader, minimal use of they/them pronouns for reader but gender is not specified, sorcerer reader, nicknames ‘sweetheart’, ‘pretty’, ‘baby’, fluff, mild angst with a happy ending, slowburn??, several pov switches, suggestive/implied nsfw at the end but nothing explicit, brief swearing/explicit language, brief violence/injuries, alcohol consumption, reader gets mildly drunk but nothing else, implied satosugu as past soulmates: can be interpreted as either romantic or platonic, fic takes place after jjk 0 but before the show starts

analysis: this is a world filled not only with curses, but soulmates—in which you know someone is your soulmate when you first make eye contact with them. but for your case, things can get a bit complicated when someone is wearing a blindfold.

here, in this universe, you can tell that someone is your soulmate by simply looking at them. so with that, the saying of “love at first sight” is actually pretty accurate here. you see them for the very first time and barely know the person and yet, somehow, they’re the one you’re destined to be with.

with that, you’d think it’d be pretty common for two random people to run into each other while crossing the street or something and bam! suddenly you’ve found the supposed love of your life!

and you? well, for you, that hasn’t happened yet.

to be fair, it’s not like you’re actively trying to look for your soulmate. handling curses as a jujutsu sorcerer is difficult enough. (maybe you’ll run into them one day after saving them from a curse or something. how romantic!)

it’s better to leave it up to fate. it’s fate who decided your pairing anyway, right?

your transfer to jujutsu tech had been fairly smooth. after being stationed in kyoto for a while, tokyo was a nice change of pace.

coincidentally, you had been out of the country during the incident known as the night parade of a hundred demons. a scary event that proved the threat of curse users to be formidable.

because of that, your decision to transfer to tokyo seemed like the right thing to do. and so far, it’s been decent.

it’s a nice change of scenery. the students are aspiring; while maki and megumi aren’t the friendliest, they’re warming up to you. toge and panda are gradually improving.

nanami’s pessimistic outlook on jujutsu society and shoko’s overall unenthusiastic demeanor are certainly interesting for the most part, but your coworkers are pleasant to be around.

well. except for one.

gojo satoru knows that you are his soulmate. he has indeed known this fact right from the very start, ever since your first meeting.

even with his blindfold on, he could see your own eyes before him. his six eyes can see everything. the thing is.. he didn’t know he could have another soulmate.

his situation with geto suguru is something he doesn’t talk about with anyone. maybe shoko at times, but even then, it’s rare. it’s not that he doesn’t want to, but it’s pretty hard to talk about.

after suguru defected, gojo could still obviously feel their bond. even though they were no longer together as the strongest duo, did it really matter when their souls were still connected to one another? it was a factor that played in avoiding (and perhaps meeting up with) each other as the years went by.

satoru felt their bond die that day after the events with okkotsu and rika. and it had frightened him. that lingering presence of the bond was no longer there.

so imagine his surprise when he sees you.

a new sorcerer in kyoto, now transferred to tokyo. normally, gojo doesn’t seek out the new recruits, but yaga had dragged him over regardless. besides, he might as well get to know his possible assistant teacher that would be helping him out with the new first years.

“i guess i can check out some new faces,” he relented with a sigh, adjusting his blindfold and looking to the side as yaga’s steps slowed as they approached you.

gojo rolled his eyes–not that you’d see it anyway–as yaga introduced you with your name and your sorcerer grade. he stopped to stand next to the principal.

you extended your hand to offer a handshake, and gojo finally turned his head.

that feeling as his gaze fell upon yours beneath the blindfold was familiar—frighteningly so—and unfamiliar at the same time. as if he could breathe for the first time in ages. your eyes are unaware, but they’re so revealing to him.

satoru stuttered in his movements, reluctantly taking your hand. the skin that touched yours felt like it was on fire. he briefly held on to see if you felt it too.

but you simply smiled up at him.

“it’s nice to meet you, gojo,” you said, blissfully unaware of the revelation currently dawning on the man before you and the turmoil it brought as he abruptly retracted his arm back.

gojo stiffened. he merely offered a curt nod before turning on heel and walking away briskly. he could faintly hear yaga protest about his sudden departure before apologizing to you hastily. satoru shook his head.

how was this be possible? how could the universe give him two soulmates? he didn’t even know that was a thing that could happen. he wondered if there had been a similar occurrence before.

gojo couldn’t help but feel nauseous. was this the world playing some sort of sick, cruel joke on him? or was it perhaps giving him a second chance?

and truthfully, it wasn’t like gojo even wanted another soulmate. not after what he had been through with suguru. he hadn’t given it much thought.

was it really worth it?

what if he couldn’t protect you too?

so satoru had decided on one thing that day: the blindfold stays on. concealing his eyes from the world not only for him, but for your sake too. he was certain in his choice; he would never tell you the truth.

as far as you were concerned, you haven’t met your soulmate yet.

and never will.

your first meeting with gojo wasn’t exactly unpleasant, but it wasn’t something you could describe as good either. you’ve been left with the impression that he’s cocky and indifferent.

and that he doesn’t like you.

it’s been around.. two? three weeks? it’s been a while since your encounter with the white-haired sorcerer, and you’ve only seen a few glimpses of him here and there on campus.

okay, he doesn’t display any outright mean or ill intention towards you. on the very rare times the two of you do interact, he is obviously curt and clipped. seems like he’s deemed you worthy of the only either nods or one word responses.

you’ve yet to actually participate in a lesson or mission with gojo, but you prefer it that way. providing individual training and advice for the upcoming second years has been going great. at this point, you’re sure it’d only be awkward.

besides, the strongest sorcerer alive doesn’t necessarily need assistance in dealing with curses after all. that much is understandable.

you’re currently in the teachers’ lounge room with nanami. even though he isn’t actually a teacher, he pays visits sometimes. he’s good company anyway.

“it’s nice to hear that you’re settling in well,” the blonde says with a nod. he loosens his necktie absentmindedly as he adjusts the newspaper in his lap. “especially with that gojo around. he can be a pain in the ass sometimes.”

you frown at the mention of the sorcerer, crossing your arms. you’re seated across from nanami, watching him idly look through the newspaper.

“oh, well, actually, he isn’t too much trouble. for me, at least,” you reply, brows furrowing, “he barely talks to me.” (in fact, he seems to avoid you like you’re carrying the plague or something.)

nanami looks up, raising a brow. “huh. you should be grateful then.” he then hums, “but maybe that’ll change once there’s actually new first year students to teach. you both are assigned to them after all.”

you lean back in your seat, your shoulders committing to a halfhearted shrug. “maybe. it’s not like i never did anything bad to him though..”

nanami sighs gruffly. “don’t think about it too much.” before he can continue, there’s the sound of footsteps. nanami brings his newspaper back up, muttering, “speak of the devil.”

“nanamiiii!” gojo’s voice sounds from around the corner. it almost startles you how lively he sounds. you realize you’ve never actually heard or seen how he acts without you around.

nanami doesn’t respond, rolling his eyes.

gojo strolls in enthusiastically, blindfold on. “heyy, nanami, we should-” he cuts off when he presumably sees you, falling quiet and stopping short.

you blink, a bit hurt. does he dislike you that much? but you don’t let it show, resorting to greeting him politely like you usually do when you occasionally pass each other.

“good afternoon, gojo,” you muse, offering a little wave.

nanami notices his reaction too, but doesn’t comment on it. he continues to ignore the sorcerer’s presence in fact, eyes still roaming over the newspaper.

gojo clears his throat and resumes his pace. “afternoon,” he responds, focusing his attention back on nanami. he reaches the two of you, giving you no further acknowledgment.

you don’t care if he can see you looking at him, you opt to stare at the black blindfold covering his face. you have a hunch that he can see, or at least feel, you staring at him.

“can i borrow you for a sec, nanami?”

nanami emits an exasperated sigh, but stands nonetheless to follow gojo out of the room for some discussion not meant for your ears apparently, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

do you make gojo uncomfortable? you don’t know what you could’ve possibly done so though. from what you’ve heard from the others, he can be rather eccentric and overbearing.

does he just not like you? perhaps he views you as inferior, too below his level and power to actually converse with you. while it seems a bit of a stretch, you’re sure it’s not out of the possibility also based on what you’ve heard about him from others.

your frown returns. before you can dwell on it any longer, nanami comes back into the room. “well, i certainly see what you mean from what you said about gojo earlier,” he announces.

his words do nothing to falter your frown. “right.” you then shrug once more, “it’s okay. it’s just a bit.. strange.” you then shake your head, trying to be a bit optimistic. “but also like you said earlier, that might change! who knows?”

who knows, indeed.

megumi tucks the cursed tools inside their designated box and closes the lid. he moves on to the next one right as gojo enters the shed, beaming a smile.

“hey, megumi. you almost done wrapping up things here?” satoru asks, undoing his blindfold naturally. there’s a pair of glasses in his hand ready for use.

the teen nods. they had used a few cursed tools during training session today, and the storage did need a bit of tidying up. “almost done.”

satoru makes a noise of approval as he places his glasses on. “great! do you need help setting up your dorm room?” he looks excited at the idea, still grinning.

meanwhile, megumi looks disinterested at his offer. “no thanks. i think it’ll be easy enough. it’s not like i’m decorating it anyway.”

“oh, boo.” but gojo doesn’t insist on it any further. he actually falls strangely quiet, which causes megumi to glance at him curiously.

his teacher looks.. distraught. it’s hard to actually tell, but he seems to be looking at the floor, maybe lost in thought. before megumi can say anything, gojo’s expression changes and he starts talking again.

“you’re, uh, with the new teacher for tomorrow,” gojo then informs. he shoves his hands into his pockets and kicks at the floor absentmindedly. (he’s fidgeting. subtly.) “it’ll just be you two, i think, on a small mission. so they can get used to actually working with students on field. it’ll be good for the both of you.”

megumi nods. he tilts his head afterward. “you can say their name, you know. it won’t kill you,” he says a bit pointedly, “and they’re not technically new anymore. it has been a few weeks now since they’ve joined the school.”

“right, right.” megumi’s face scrunches up as gojo’s hand comes down to ruffle his hair gently. (a habit that has not died since his younger days.) “whatever you say, megumi.”

despite your minimal interactions and his rather closed off demeanor, megumi is actually one of your favorite students. (and yeah, maybe you shouldn’t have favorites, but oh well.)

your mission with megumi, or rather, the mission you’ve been assigned to supervise the student on, is rather simple.

there’s been reports of a low grade curse roaming the premises of a supermarket neighboring a nearby cemetery, so megumi is to obviously exorcise it under your watch. the area has been closed off with a small veil. megumi had decided to check the parking lot first for any lingering traces, so here you are.

“i think we’re good here,” the teenager confirms as his demon dogs return to his feet, seemingly in the clear. you nod and let him lead the way towards the inside of the store.

as the two of you begin to walk down each aisle with one of the demon dogs trailing behind, megumi says your name in an inquisitive tone. “what do you think of gojo-sensei?”

the sudden question has you blinking in surprise. your eyes scan megumi as you both continue to trek down the aisle. “what makes you ask?”

“no reason.” he doesn’t meet your gaze.

you bite down on your lip in contemplation. you’re not sure what brings this question to mind for him, but you’re willing to indulge him for now. “well.. i think he’s.. alright.” you pause. “as a sorcerer, i admire his strength. though, i think a lot of people think that obviously.”

“and as a person?” megumi presses, turning to investigate the next aisle. he still doesn’t glance over to you, still preoccupied with searching for the curse.

(hell, for a teenager, he sure is perceptive.)

you choose your words carefully, thinking it over with a brief pause.

“i’ll admit, i don’t think i know him well enough to be sure. as a person, i think he’s.. self-centered and rude. sometimes, i see him act very carefree in a way. he’s.. obscure, i guess.” you clear your throat and reiterate, “but again, i don’t really... know him.”

you can see megumi go over your words silently. the quiet continues. the conversation seems to be dying, but it doesn’t matter when monstrous gurgling sounds up ahead.

a curse appears in front of you, the shelving of the aisles toppling over as it gargles some unintelligible roar. megumi doesn’t hesitate, using his technique to summon his demon dogs once more to swiftly engage in combat.

the fight is easily handled in three minutes top. (they weren’t kidding when they said it’d be easy.)

after the commotion has settled, you allow megumi to do one more check up around the store just in case. just as you are prepared to exit and bring down the veil, you decide it’s your turn to ask him now.

“and what about you, megumi?” you inquire lightly, giving one of the demon dogs a few head pats for their good work. “what exactly do you think of gojo?”

megumi hums.

“i agree with most of what you said actually,” he answers honestly, causing you to chuckle in amusement. the teenager tilts his head and finally looks at you. “but i also think he’s kind when he wants to be.”

his frontward honesty surprises you once more. this kid sure is something. you believe his words; he has no reason to lie to you, especially about gojo of all things. still, you poke at him teasingly, “really now?”

you don’t really expect him to answer, but then megumi says in a mumble so quiet that you nearly miss it.

“well, he did sort of raise me after all.”

“i just don’t think he likes me, shoko,” you puff out a sigh, watching as she puffs out smoke. “i’ve seen the way he is around other people, and he’s not like that with me.”

she’s on break right now, so you thought you could talk to her about a certain blindfolded sorcerer who’s been plaguing your thoughts.

it’s interesting to hear about the different sides of gojo satoru from your peers. from nanami, you’ve learned that he’s pretentious and troublesome. from megumi, that he can be caring in his own way. and shoko?

“he’s crazy.” the doctor waves her cigarette at you with a shrug of her shoulders. “but it beats me on why he doesn’t particularly like you.”

you groan, slouching in one of the chairs set up in the infirmary. “maybe i should’ve stayed in kyoto,” you mumble. it’s more of a joke than anything; your.. weird terms with gojo isn’t enough to actually deter you.

but shoko puts the cigarette back to her lips and tilts her head. “want me to ask him about it?”

you straighten your posture abruptly and look at her. “what? you don’t have to. he might think i asked you to or something.”

she shrugs again. “your call.”

your brows furrow. “maybe we just got off on the wrong foot somehow. even though all i did was shake his hand.” you snort. “maybe i can get him something to break the ice. what does he like?”

shoko doesn’t even hesitate. “sweets. he likes his sweets.”

oh. oh, okay! you blink and nod. who would’ve thought? the strongest sorcerer in the world likes sweets. “i can handle sweets.”

you, in fact, cannot handle sweets.

why are there so many? you’re at a local bakery staring at the rows and rows of pastries they have on display, looking as if you’re trying the decipher the world’s hardest math problem.

shoko never specified what kind of sweets he liked during your conversation with her a couple days ago. cake? ice cream? cookies? you might as well buy the whole damn store at this point with your luck. the last thing you want is to buy him something he won’t actually eat.

“oh, fuck it,” you mutter and finally decide on a small piece of cake. it happens to be your favorite kind of cake, but oh well. if he doesn’t like it, he doesn’t like it! it’s the thought that matters anyway, right?

as you exit the shop with your newly acquired dessert, you try to devise a way to give it to him. do you just.. hand it to him? or maybe it’ll be better to leave it in his office. or have shoko give it to him!

ughh, who knew how hard it’d be to give a man a cake? okay, okay. you’ll simply give it to him in person since he’ll know it’s directly from you. problem solved.

well, actually, problem is not solved. how are you supposed to give the cake to gojo in person when you have absolutely no clue where he is right now? after returning to the school, he’s no where to be found, so you eventually turn to yaga for help.

“he’s on a mission where??”

you stare at yaga with wide eyes as he names some city so far away you’re pretty sure you wouldn’t be able to find an affordable ride to get you there in a reasonable amount of time.

“oh, alright,” you say, feeling a little disappointed. the cake suddenly feels a little too big and heavy in your hands.

the principal’s gaze flickers down to your little intended treat for his former student. “these kinds of missions are no trouble for satoru. i’m sure he’ll be back soon, so you can leave that in his office.”

you brighten up at that and nod. “thank you, yaga.” you then dismiss yourself with a polite bow after he informs you where gojo’s office is exactly, and you start to make your way there.

it’s only a few minutes until you get there. you open the door and catch sight of a desk. it looks rather plain, which is understandable since it doesn’t seem like he uses this space often. (though, there is a chair that looks more expensive than your entire rent.)

either way, you walk inside and set the container down on the desk with a small sigh. hopefully the gesture is appreciated! if he really does have a sweet tooth like shoko says, you’re not sure why he’d turn it down. again, you can only hope.

you sigh again and turn to leave when the sound of the door creaking open sounds again. you freeze in place when it swings out fully, revealing the very man you were thinking about.

(yaga was not kidding when he said that gojo finishes his missions pretty fast.)

gojo perks up at the sight of you in his office, and even with his blindfold on, you can tell he’s got a surprised look on his face. “can i help you.. or do you have a reason on why you’re snooping around in my office?” he inquires, walking in.

while not evidently hostile, his appearance and words suddenly have you anxious. “oh, well, i-’’ you want to mentally smack yourself for fumbling over your words. “i’m sorry for intruding. i, uh, just wanted to leave you a little something.”

it’s only then does gojo look past you and makes a small noise. you can’t really decipher it, but you watch as he walks by you to open the small packaging to see the slice of cake meant for him.

and when he makes a small noise again, you can tell it’s one of delight. “you got me.. cake?” he asks, looking to you again questioningly.

“i did,” you clarify with a small nod, summoning a small smile and rubbing the back of your neck a bit sheepishly, “i didn’t know what kind of sweet you would like, so i just ended up choosing my favorite cake. um, i really hope you don’t mind the flavor, but if you don’t you really don’t have to eat it so-”

“kikufuku.”

you stare at him, confused. “what?”

“kikufuku,” satoru reiterates, and it’s his turn to smile. (it nearly catches you off guard because although very small, it’s pretty.) “s’my favorite. or.. one of my favorite sweets. crepes are good too.”

his newfound friendliness has you smiling a bit more evidently, pleased that this interaction is your most pleasant one with him so far in the weeks you’ve been here. “oh, okay,” you chuckle, “noted.”

gojo opens the container and unwraps the plastic fork that had came with it. he takes a bite of the cake and hums in approval. “can see why it’s your favorite. it’s not bad.”

your face lightens up at that. “oh, i’m glad.”

he hums, popping another slice of cake into his mouth. “any particular reason on why you’ve decided to give me cake, if i may ask?”

you falter once more, now nervous in telling that you’re hoping to.. resolve this one-sided tension with you. ultimately, you decide to be straightforward, inhaling deeply and looking at him. (well, his blindfold.)

“well, i’m not an idiot, gojo. you haven’t exactly been.. friendly to me. i’m not trying to win you over or anything, but if we’re going to work together with the first year students, consider this a gift for a truce. or um, a peace offering so we can act somewhat decent with each other.”

the white-haired sorcerer falls silent at your confrontation. you’re half expecting him to brush you off and walk out of the room entirely. especially since he seems to have stiffen up (similarly to the way when you first met, you had noticed).

he seems to contemplate for a bit. you don’t know where he’s looking at; the floor, the cake in his hands, you? it’s suddenly nerve-wracking.

“you’re right,” he finally speaks up, “i.. i’m sorry for my previous behavior towards you. can we start over?” he places the cake aside and walks back over to you to hold out his hand.

“gojo satoru.”

your eyes flicker to his blindfold to his hand, then back to where his eyes are hidden underneath. the rumored powerful and breaktaking six eyes concealed from your ever so curious sight.

against your better judgment, you repeat your name and take his hand.

“it’s nice to meet you, gojo.”

your new relationship with gojo is steadily becoming better. he’s no longer curt with you, and actually engages in conversations even with no other people around.

though, you can’t help but feel like he’d avoiding looking at you for some reason. which is pretty far off since you can’t technically see where he’s looking, but it’s a hunch you have nonetheless.

but hey, it’s progress, progress that you’re somewhat happy about.

like now, as satoru leans over your shoulder to peer at the clipboard in your hands. you’ve just finished wrapping up a lesson with the soon-to-be second years out on the field.

“ooh, what’s on the agenda for tomorrow, teach?” he pries.

“assistant teach,” you remind him teasingly, going over the contents of the clipboard. “more sparring. oh, and the registration for that new first year.”

“the one from the countryside?” gojo hums.

you nod. “yep. a.. kugasaki nobara. we won’t actually get to meet her, but arrangements for her arrival are getting finalized.”

“oh, boo. s’just more paperwork,” the sorcerer beside you whines, kicking at the grass.

“at least megumi isn’t the only one now,” you point out and finally turn to him.

just as you expected, satoru glances away to look at panda and toge finishing up. you squint at him narrowly but don’t comment on it.

“that’s true. not like that kid cares anyway, but it’ll be good for him,” gojo agrees airily, shoving his hands into his pockets.

you eye him. “hey, gojo?”

“yeah?” his head remains turned to the students. (further proving your point! you feel like you’re collecting evidence here; the gojo satoru cannot look at you in the eye!)

you hesitate. “wanna grab some kikufuku?”

he perks up at that. (like a puppy, really. it almost makes you laugh.) “mm, whatever happened to not trying to win me over with sweets?” he teases.

you laugh at that then, shaking your head in soft denial. “no- that’s not what i-”

“well, you did said kikufuku.." satoru interrupts you with a dramatic sigh and heave of his shoulders, “so how could i ever possibly resist?”

satoru doesn’t dare to look down at you.

“care to join me?”

but you smile up at him cheekily, and he hates the way the sunlight is hitting your features just right. it looks like the color of your eyes is glistening.

you’re just.. lying down on the grass of one of the training fields, admiring the drifting formations of white clouds on the blue canvas that is the sky.

satoru keeps telling himself that shouldn’t be doing this. his first mistake was accepting your cake. allowing himself to get closer to you. but when you look at him like that, he feels like he can do anything. which is odd, becaues really, he can do anything. it goes without saying as his status as the strongest.

but with you, it’s starting to feel a bit different.

when he doesn’t give you an immediate answer, you tilt your head and continue to blink up at him. “you can see the sky even with your blindfold on, right?”

he snorts. “yeah, i can.”

you pat the space on the grass next to you welcomingly, a beckoning that he just can’t resist again. “well, come on and join me,” you persist.

he hesitates, shifting his weight on his legs for a moment. against his better judgement, he joins you. it’s surprisingly comfortable, he finds, as he kicks out his legs and sighs.

it’s a comfortable silence that it’s almost startling. how easy it is just to be around you. (which is the exact reason why he had been avoiding you in the start, in fear of slipping up around you. he still might.)

“you get headaches, right? if you don’t cover your eyes.”

he chuckles at your question. “yeah.” it’s a half truth, half lie. he does get headaches, but for another reason now. you can’t get out of his head. (he’s got a suspicious feeling it’s because the soulmate bond is incomplete. but again, that’s just a theory of his.)

“‘m’sorry. that sucks.” you pout subconscously, still looking up at the sky to admire it.

he scoffs fondly, clapsing his hands over his stomach. “it’s no biggie. you think headaches can take down gojo satoru?”

“hey now, tough guy. they can take down me sometimes.”

(he’d fight off headaches from you if he could.) his heart is thudding against his ribcage, warning him. but he doesn’t heed the warning, and continues to lay down with you on the grass.

it’s a nice feeling. he doesn’t feel like the greatest sorcerer in the world with his colleague. it feels like he’s just satoru, pointing out the different shapes and animals you can spot in the sky with his soulmate.

“hey, that one looks like you!”

“hah?!”

“i’m guessing you and gojo-sensei are getting along now,” megumi bluntly comments.

it catches you off guard slightly, and you can’t help but laugh. (of course he had noticed how the both of you interacted from the beginning.) “oh, uh, yeah.”

and as you watch satoru go down the steps of the stairs to head over to you both whilst waving an arm with much more enthusiam than needed, you can’t help but smile.

“yeah, we are.”

this is a mistake. he shouldn’t be doing this.

but satoru can’t help but be so selfish, selfish in indulging in your looks, in your scarce touches. when you had confronted him with your peace offering as you had so called it, he had given in.

and now he’s spending more time with you. be it after lessons with the students, on random days where you have nothing to do, during weekends when there’s no authorities to bother him—he can’t help it.

was it the bond wanting to be complete? you were still unaware of his true identity, of what he could possibly mean to you, so why does he feel like he needs to be so close? he gets antsy at times when you’re not in his sight. it’s starting to affect him.

the soulmate bond, or lack of it—that has to be the only explanation for it. because he knows that you’re his soulmate, he’s subconsciously drawn to you and your presence. (it’s definitely not because he likes the way you smile, or laugh, or-)

fuck.

after a relatively tough mission, you’re obviously sent to see shoko. you’re not fatally harmed, maybe a scratch here and there. and okay, maybe a gash on your shoulder..

it had been enough to sort of knock you off your feet, but you’re fine. totally. exorcising a semi grade two curse at 1 a.m. in the morning was no biggie at this point.

once she’s finished tending to your wound, she dusts off her hands and places them on her hips. “you’re all set.”

you smile gratefully. “thanks, sho. can always count you to patch me up.”

she snorts. “well, it is my job.”

gojo suddenly appears right next to the table and you yelp, startled by his teleportation. shoko, on the other hand, looks unfazed, as if she’s used to this.

“gojo!” you blink, your voice taking a scolding tone soon after, “geez, you scared me! what’re you still doing awake??”

the blindfolded man falters, looking apologetic. “sorry. heard you got back from your mission.” he sounds worried, but before he can voice his concern, shoko rolls her eyes.

“they’ll be fine,” she says.

gojo’s shoulders finally drop down and he plays off his previous display of concern with a laugh. “ahaha, yeahhh, i knew that,” he scoffs with a wave of his hand, “i can’t bless you two with my presence?”

shoko gives him a displeased look before she turns around to tidy up her tools. you chuckle at her annoyance. “thanks for checking up on me, satoru,” you say sincerely. your eyes go over his appearance; he’s dressed more casually: a pair of dark slacks and shirt that expose his collarbones. not that you’re.. particularly looking.

but his shoulders seem tense again at your words and he hums quietly. (huh, strange. at least he’s not refusing to look at you anymore, you think.)

“well, i say this calls for a little celebration,” satoru suddenly purrs in delight, waving his hands in the air.

“celebration? for me getting kinda beat up?” you blow a raspberry at him, only for him to blow one at you right back. even though you had done it first, you can’t help but giggle at his childish antics.

he grins at that, then shakes his head. “heyy, i heard you beat up a semi grade two curse!” he says, “i think that does call for a celebration, does it not?”

you stare at him, unsure on whether he’s joking or not. wait, how did he even know that? well, maybe he had gone through the mission reports and assignments. still, you’re surprised that he knows. “you can wipe those out in less than a minute, gojo,” you point out with a raised brow, “don’t try and humor me.”

his grin lessens. “well, yeah, s’kinda easy for me, but i think that goes without saying. you’re telling me don’t wanna celebrate an accomplishment of yours?”

you look to shoko who is almost finished with cleaning up. she just shrugs. you look back to satoru and shrug yourself whilst rolling your eyes. “alright, we can celebrate.”

gojo fist bumps the air. and here you are again, giggling at him.

eventually, when he leads you out of the infirmary and to the teachers’ lounge. he digs through one of the fridges and hands you a bottle of what seems to be alcohol.

“i didn’t even know this was allowed here,” you mumble, settling down on what of the high chairs near the counter. you wiggle in your seat to get comfortable as gojo takes the one next to you.

you offer it to him but he shakes his head, nose scrunching up a little. “i don’t drink.”

“wasn’t this your idea?” you blink. “suit yourself, more for me.” you shrug and open the bottle to pour yourself a glass. and another. and another. and then another.

(you don’t know what particularly drives you to keep drinking as you talk with him, but perhaps it’s the way you know that satoru’s eyes are lingering just underneath the blindfold. you can practically feel his stare.)

and gojo watches you gradually drink yourself to being mildly drunk.

“okay, no more for you,” he laughs as he takes the bottle away from you and holding it above your head when you try to reach for it.

“awh, man.” you pout and rest your head on your arms on the table, looking at him the best you can. “you meanie. you got me drunk on purpose. give it back.”

he snickers, amused and endeared by your drunk antics as he pushes the bottle aside. “sorry. you’ll thank me later, pretty.”

pretty. he’s never called you that before. you wanna hear him say it again. (amongst some other things.)

“pretty.. you’re pretty. i bet your eyes are pretty too,” you say into your sleeve, your other hand reaching out to his blindfold, “everyone else says they’re v’ry pretty.”

he leans back to avoid your hand, heart pounding in his chest a little too loud for his liking. he wonders if you can hear it. “sure. i guess they are,” he says softly with a small chuckle.

“i wonder who my soulmate is,” you then mumble out. maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it’s your incoherent slurring, but you sound.. sad.

before he can dwell on it, you’re slurring out another question that has come to your head.

“d’you have a soulmate?”

satoru’s eyes widen under the blindfold. he knows that you’re drunk. that you’re just saying things. but your hazy eyes stare up at him with a glint that makes his heart lurch.

and you won’t remember a thing in the morning, right?

before he can answer, you’re out like a light.

you wake up in the morning with a splitting headache.

with a groan, you sit up in what seems to be a bed that seems way to be to be your own, legs kicking the sheets that had been draped over you in alarm.

you have no idea where you are, but there’s a glass of water along with some painkillers on the nightstand beside you, which you down gratefully. there’s also the smell of food coming from outside the room.

you can piece two and two together that you’re probably in the home of someone you know.. your brain racks for information of what had happened last night but it’s only causing it to ache even more.

gojo.

you shake your head and make your way to what seems to be the bathroom to tidy yourself up. you notice that your’re still clad in your clothes of last night, so gojo had done the courtesy of tucking you in.

after you’re done, you take a deep breath and head outside.

you navigate your way down the hallway and follow the smell of food. as you turn the corner, you catch the sight of satoru in the kitchen. not that you doubted that the greatest sorcerer could cook, but for some reason, he looks so domestic.

he’s simply wearing sweats and a loose fitting shirt, your back turned to you as he tends to the stove, but the mere sight of it has your heart leaping into your throat. you have a feeling that it’s a sight meant for you, for you to see.

you don’t no how long you stand there, but suddenly a laugh rings through the kitchen from satoru teasingly. “take a picture, sweetheart, it’ll last longer.”

you yelp, embarrassed. (sweetheart? you try not to think about it, but you hate the way it makes your heart leap again. he’s just.. messing with you.) “erm.. sorry. good morning, gojo.” you approach the kitchen and take a seat at the counter.

when he finally turns to you, he’s not wearing his usual black blindfold, but instead what seems to be white bandages. you haven’t seen it on him before, but you don’t comment on it though.

he says good morning back before serving you some food, which you thank him for gratefully. “thank you for the painkillers too. i didn’t do anything embarrassing last night, did i?” you inquire, half jokingly.

you try to remember what had happened last night, but your memories are still a bit hazy. all you can recall is talking with him about things and staring at him. (you’re not going to tell him that though.)

“nah,” he waves off, “just told me your darkest secrets, s'all.”

you straighten up. “what?”

“kidding, kidding!” he snickers.

you groan and drag your plate to you. “i didn’t know you could cook.”

satoru looks mildly offended, emitting a dramatic gasp as he waves the spatula at you in a petulant manner. “hey now, i’m no expert. but i can at least make some sort of breakfast.”

(he totally did not look up a tutorial on how to cook for you. definitely not. but he’s a natural at everything, so at least his naturally gifted skill is in his favor this time.)

“thank you, gojo.” a smile tugs at the edges of your mouth.

“satoru.”

“what?”

“c’mon, you’re literally eating breakfast in my kitchen,” he laughs, sliding a mug of coffee (probably with extra cream and sugar because it’s gojo) towards you across the counter. “satoru’s fine.”

you test the name on your tongue, paying little attention to the way it makes the man before you stiffen up as you grab the coffee. “satoru.. thanks, satoru.” you think you can get used to saying that.

(he does too.)

satoru turns away back to the stove. “you’re welcome.”

“hey satoru, what did you say what you wanted again? i’m thinking bubble tea but i dunno..”

he likes the way his name sounds from you.

“uh, satoru? satoru? helloo, earth to gojo satoru? satoru!”

oh.

fuck, he hadn’t realized he had spaced out. gojo lifts his head in a sudden motion, making a surprised noise. he smiles sheepishly. “what’s up?”

“you feeling alright, satoru?” you tilt your head.

keep saying his name.

“awhh, i’m feeling more than alright, sweetheart.” he shoots you a grin, liking the way your eyes reflect the café lights, giving it a warm hue. “i’ll have whatever you’re having.”

“you seem to be in a good mood lately,” megumi points out. ijichi, in the front see, looks at the two of them through the rear view in silent agreement.

(a lot of people have noticed actually.)

gojo pauses, halfway through unwrapping the plastic of a popsicle. it’s the same one he used to consume during his youth, but his taste really hasn’t changed after all this time. “oh?”

the teenager eyes him narrowly. “yeah.”

gojo merely hums and pops the icy treat into his mouth.

“heh, i guess i am.”

you can hear gojo and shoko’s voices coming from the infirmary, causing you to smile absentmindedly. you didn’t think you’d be enjoying their company this much in the recent months—especially satoru’s.

(strangely, it feels so natural to be around him, you can’t help but wonder if he feels the same. you try to write it off as spending so much time together for a while now, but you can’t lie when you say he doesn’t make the stomach churn with butterflies.)

you turn the corner and announce your presence to the two with a smile and wave. you catch sight of them when they glance over to you, noticing something different.

shoko is wearing her usual white coat with a cigarette in hand, but she’s got her hair tied up in a rare bun to keep any strands from her face.

but that’s not what’s different as your gaze strays to the man next to her, the familiar frame of gojo catching you a bit off guard.

he’s wearing his glasses.

you’ve never seen him wear anything but his blindfold.

how does he look even more breathtaking than without it? you can’t see his eyes still, no—it’s a deep, deep shade of blue that still blocks his gaze from anyone else. but it’s a more casual look, seeing as his hair isn’t being help up and a few strands fall down and you can see his sharp facial features a bit more and-

and then he’s gone.

you audibly make a sound of confusion and hurt, because one moment he’s there and the next he’s no where to be seen. he had vanished without a single world.

he’s fucking avoiding you again; the realization of it makes your throat close up. after all you had been through with satoru.

“what the fuck was that?”

shoko stares at the space gojo had just been standing, just as lost as you.

there’s a distance between the two of you again. it’s painstakingly familiar to when you had first met gojo and he had kept himself strictly professional with you.

and you don’t know why.

it’s back to the cold shoulder from him; you’re seeing him less and less around campus, and those times where you did hang out off duty are practically a thing of the past now.

satoru is going to be the death of you one day, you’re sure of it.

and you and satoru aren’t even.. a thing.

then again, you’re not even sure what you are. you’re friends, yes, that’s much more than clear, but why does it feel so much more intimate than that despite the fact that the two of you have never even done anything?

however.. a part of you knows that you want more. more of those days lying in the grass with him, more of those mornings eating breakfast with him in his home, more of those afternoon café runs, more of everything with satoru.

is that why does it hurts so much now that he’s pushed you away again?

satoru is praying that you’re not in there with shoko as he approaches the infirmary a week later. she had called him over, and though he could’ve easily refused, he found himself obliging anyway.

“hey, what was that the other day?”

shoko is blunt and straight to the point once he arrived, striking him with a petulant and expectant gaze with her tired eyes.

gojo blinks innocently, tilting his head at shoko. “what was what?”

shoko then rolls her eyes. “you know what i’m talking about. what was that. you just- walked out like they we’re going to kill you or something.”

that’s the thing. you just might.

the white-haired man frowns and continues to feign innocence. he’s starting to wonder why he bothered coming here. “i have no idea what you’re talking about.”

his avoidance causes shoko to frown as well and she crosses her arms. “you’re doing the same thing that you did with them when they first joined here.”

when he doesn’t say anything, she continues, “avoiding them, pushing them away. i thought you didn’t have any problems with them. at this point, make up your mind because you’re just toying with their feelings and it’s not going to-”

“we’re soulmates,” satoru blurts out.

shoko is cut off, staring at him all wide-eyed for once. “you’re kidding.”

satoru falters. “i’m not. s’why i always wear the blindfold. and that’s why i.. i ran last night. just my glasses was too risky.”

what if he had angled his head the wrong way, what if you saw his eyes, what if you finally realized that you were fated to be together at the whims of the universe? he couldn’t do that to you.

“how long have you-”

“since we first met. i.. i could see it because of six eyes,” he explains, running a hand through his hair. “i don’t know why. i didn’t think i could have another one after-”

the two fall quiet at the mention of suguru, a heavy feeling hanging in the air between them.

“what are you going to do?” shoko asks quietly.

satoru sounds wrecked. “..i don’t know.”

“well.” shoko smushes her cigarette against the surface of the metal table. “you better do something before it’s too late.”

unfortunately, the higher ups have also noticed.

(the push and pull that has been going on between the pride of the gojo clan and a random transferred sorcerer from kyoto. nothing goes unseen by their tight hold on jujutsu society.)

and you are none the wiser when you’re an assigned a mission late so at night, at a secluded edge of tokyo. you would’ve questioned it, but after looking over the details, it seems easy enough since it was a low level curse.

ijichi drops you off near the location and bids you luck. the night is dark, with the shape of the moon only peaking out every now and then due to the clouds to offer minimum light, and then the veil is coming up.

it’s fine though, as you start walking to get this over with. the faster, the better.

what the fuck? the cursed energy here is much stronger than you had anticipated, almost as if it’s suffocating. now uneasy, you continue your search with more caution.

a low growl sounds from somewhere behind you, and you turn on heel to brace yourself in case the curse decides to catch you off guard with an unexpected attack.

your heart drops.

it’s a grade one curse.

something’s not right.

satoru can feel it. he can sense it in the air. something is lingering, a presence that makes even him feel uneasy, and he doesn’t know why. nothing makes him feel uneasy. but it’s a gut feeling, it’s the bond tugging and tugging and-

you.

something’s not right.

and then gojo is teleporting and finding ijichi in record time, giving the poor man a scare. gojo’s voice is on edge and leaves no room for argument as he demands the assistant director where he had driven you minutes prior. the veil still stands, undisturbed.

fuck, fuck, fuck- shoko was right. he should’ve done something before it was too late, because now it might actually be too late as he steps through the veil.

it’s too quiet for his liking, but the lingering silence only lasts for a few heartbeats before he hears you scream.

you’re going to die.

you don’t want to think that, but you’re definitely not going to make it out of this unscathed as you dodge the curse’s scarily accurate attacks, as if it knows where you’re going to move and land.

the curse screeches out something ugly, and you’re too stunned to react in time as one of its malformed limbs swings down with a speed that you can’t comprehend.

your throat cries for help even as the air out of your lungs, but then there’s the sudden brilliant flash of red that blinds your vision.

satoru?

you can’t see and your body aches everywhere while the sounds of the curse fade out. it’s replaced by the sound of someone speaking frantically. it is satoru as he crouches down at you, hands coming to lift you up gently. his infinity is off. “hey, hey it’s me,” he voices, “it’s me, sweetheart.”

satoru, it’s satoru. satoru is here.

you emit a sigh of relief, cloudy vision gradually focusing. you try and focus it on satoru, tracing over his features repeatedly, trying to engrave it into your memory.

“shit. those damn higher ups,” gojo grits his teeth into an angered scowl. the higher ups? were they behind this? you don’t know, but you know that you’ve ever seen him this furious before. “i am going to rip those old geezers apart limb from li-”

“satoru, we need to head back.”

he looks dazed, tufts of snowy hair now hanging a bit loosely over his blindfold compared to when it’s normally pushed upright. he even sounds dazed, the great gojo satoru, when he says, “yeah. yeah, okay.”

he’s holding on to you tight and suddenly everything seems to get blurry for less than a second before you blink. you realize he’s teleported you both not to the school, not to shoko’s infirmary, but to his penthouse.

the interior is at least familiar: white walls, a little messy, a couple of decorations, and—

“my place,” he clarifies, as if he had read your thoughts. he sets you down on his couch, uncaring if you’re staining the color of the cushions. but he doesn’t let go, hands still cradling your form so tight that you don’t know if you’re still shaking or that he is.

“are you okay?” you utter out weakly and scan him for any injuries while clutching at his arms, which is ridiculous because he’s untouchable. but you’re not in the right mind right now, and you have a feeling he isn’t either.

“i should be the one asking you that,” he retorts, and you also have the feeling he’s doing the same thing with you with the help of his six eyes.

“i’m alright,” you try to reassure him with a small shake of your head. it only aids you in wincing, but the pain is the last thing on your mind. especially with him here. “it’s fine.”

“it’s not fine,” he argues, his hold tightening even more on you, if that was even possible. is that a slight tremor in his voice? “you almost died.”

“and why do you care?” it’s not a malicious question from you. it’s more of confusion, of genuine. after all you’ve been through with satoru, you’re not sure where he stands. what he feels.

he seems startled by your question, like he can’t believe you could ask such a thing. “of course i care! why-”

you clench your fists in your lap, eyes tracing over his face repeatedly. “i don’t know what you want anymore from me, satoru! you’re not- you’re not telling me the truth.”

“i didn’t want to hurt you,” he tells you hoarsely. god, you wish you could see what he’s thinking. what’s going on in that head of his.

“you did hurt me.”

gojo trembles. “i know.”

“you seem to know a lot of things.” your voice sounds tired. your hand goes to rest on his chest, where you can faintly feel his heartbeat underneath. (oh, to be the only one who can touch gojo satoru like this.) “what are you hiding from me?”

“i can’t hide anything from you.” he draws a slow intake of breath. he then whispers,

“but how am i supposed to tell you that we’re soulmates?”

your heart skips a beat.

gojo satoru is your soulmate?

astonished, you now stare at him with wide eyes. “why- why didn’t you tell me??” you ask, voice cracking. to think, all this time, your soulmate had been right there, right beside you, right in front of you.

then it all clicks. his off-standish behavior, his reluctant interactions, his avoidance. his blindfold. he didn’t want you to see his eyes.

he’s known all this time somehow—and oh, oh. his six eyes. your lips part in realization as you stare hard, as if you could see his damned eyes beneath the cloth that hides you from the truth.

“i thought that if you knew that we were soulmates, you’d-” satoru shakes his head. “something always happens to the people i love.” he hesitates, “you still have a chance. you can find someone else.”

“what if i don’t want someone else??” you say out softly in protest, gripping the lapels of his uniform.

gojo shakes his head again. despite this, he doesn’t let you go. like he can’t, like he doesn’t want to. “we’re not bonded yet,” he says your name shakily. “please.”

still gripping the collar of his uniform, you tug him closer to you desperately. it’s so clear, so obvious that he wanted this.

“satoru, have you thought about what i wanted?” you breathe out, feeling tears well up in your eyes, “that maybe, there’s a chance that i want to take the risk? that i want to be bonded to you?”

your eyes flicker down to his lips momentarily. “that i want you too?”

satoru’s breath stutters.

“you haven’t seen my eyes.”

you cup satoru’s face in your hands, swiping your thumb under the space where his eye is hidden with a fierce tenderness that makes him listen.

“satoru, i didn’t need to see your eyes to fall in love with you.”

your confession has him stilling.

(all the times he had stiffened up in your presence, he had been falling for you, bit by bit. you know that now.)

his hand comes to cover yours, the one that’s still resting on his cheek, fingers smoothing over your knuckles. and then his hand continues to go up, up, up, and-

he tugs the blindfold up and over his head, revealing his eyes to you at last.

his eyes are gorgeous, a blue that seems to spill into your vision and take over your senses. a blue that you can get lost in, a blue that reminds you of the summer sky, a blue that tethers your soul to his, and you both can feel it.

the bond between you is so electrifying that you nearly forget how to breathe.

and then satoru is surging forward, closer, even closer, until your breath is his and you forget how to breathe for a whole different reason entirely.

he’s kissing you.

he kisses you like you might disappear right before him, his head angling into yours to capture your lips with a force that makes your world spin.

and you return it tenfold, one hand still cradling his face while the other sneaks to dig its fingers into his undercut, and he’s making a noise into your mouth with fervor.

you’re all too aware of his heat against you, the frantic touches he’s now giving into as he draws you closer. the surface of the sofa dissipates into nothingness and then-

suddenly he’s teleporting you both again—or maybe he’s kissing you dizzy. but you realize you’re now in space that’s not overly familiar with you, but you can tell it’s most likely his bedroom based off of the feel of the lush satin sheets underneath you.

less than an hour ago you were fighting for your life, and now you’re fighting for your life on gojo satoru’s bed.

“satoru, s’toru, wait-” you’re gasping for air, for something as he engulfs you with his presence. he’s everywhere all at once, and it feels as if the bond is intensifying everything he’s doing to you.

“nuh uh. think we’ve both waited long enough for this, baby,” he gasps against your lips, like it’s impossible to be separated from you again, “don’t know how much i wanted this, wanted you. drove me crazy.”

his words makes your head all fuzzy. you don’t even know if it’s the bond anymore, or just the way he makes you feel. maybe even both. your lungs feeling like they’re burning, but even then, you manage to get out,

“you have me, ‘toru, you have me.”

“yeah?” when he pulls back, it’s not even a few inches, his nose brushing against yours. his alluring eyes glimmer in the darkness of the room, and you’re almost so mad that you feel like kissing him again because he’s kept them from you for so long.

your hands hook over his neck again. when your fingers run over his undercut again, you can actually feel him shiver, causing you to giggle in delight. “yeah, ‘toru.”

“yeah, pretty,” he sighs out and he’s losing himself in everything that is you once more so willingly. your eyes, your very being, compels him to give you everything, so he does. “y’have me too. all of me.”

his confession rings through your ears before he’s kissing you again, kissing you breathless. it’s a blur on what happens next; feverish touches and passionate symphonies, but one thing’s for sure,

the magnetic glow of his eyes in the dark of that night is something that you’ll never forget.

as your stir amongst the tousled bedsheets, you can feel the warmth of a certain someone creeping over you, like a cozy cat searching for cuddles.

your eyes peer open to meet the blurry sight of the ceiling, along with the sight of messy white hair tickling your chin.

“good morning to you, sweetheart,” a voice says cheekily, followed by cascading kisses down your jawline, prompting you to giggle softly.

you watch sunlight spill over into the bedroom, engulfing the man above you in an angelic glow as he finally pulls back to look down at you.

so maybe you didn’t fall in love at first sight with gojo satoru.

that’s okay.

cause as you stare up into your soulmate’s pretty ceruleans in the morning light, you think you can fall in love with him like this a little more.

BONUS!

“you owe me.”

nanami drags a hand over his face as he digs into his pocket for his wallet. “this is the first and last time i make a bet with you,” he grumbles.

shoko merely smirks. “you have such little faith in gojo.”

“bet or not, can we go back to before they were together?” nanami looks like he’s close to investing in a pair of one of gojo’s glasses that can block any normal person’s vision.

satoru is clinging onto you like a sloth.

“babyyyyy,” your boyfriend whines, resting his chin on your shoulder with his arms wrapped around your torso. you can’t help but giggle, endeared by his clinginess. (he had claimed it was to make up for the way he had acted in the past and for lost time.)

he’s like another part of you now. not that you mind. being his soulmate is everything and more—from the tender touches to the passionate ones, to the talks of everything: to the mundane to the serious. after all, your soul is his, and his soul is yours.

(and then his hands are sneaking off to places they shouldn’t be.)

“‘toru, not here!”

nanami heaves out another sigh as his hand comes to pinch the bridge of his nose. “is it too late to quit being a sorcerer again?”

TAGLIST : @spn-obession , @deepestartisanhumanoidshark , @scarasw1f3 , @kalopsia-flaneur , @90s-belladonna , @peachipeachy , @chrystinaamanda , @kalulakunundrum , @hunnyheavenn , @dekusdante , @dontmindmelove , @cherries-lostgirls , @rv19 , @etherealstarlightqueen

+ a/n: this fic ended up being way no longer than i expected omg.. but thanks to all who asked to be on the taglist !! some didnt work so im sorry about that </3

like this fic? feel free to go ahead and check out my other works here! -> masterlist

[luveline]

coworker!james and readers first kiss pretty pretty please? with cherry on top? i love these pining idiots in love so much!

ty for requesting <3 fem, 1.4k

“What are you doing?” 

A warm voice and a warmer hand pressed to your shoulder. You hide the mug under your palm and look up, finding yourself face to face with a grinning James. 

His glasses make his eyes a little smaller than they are in actuality. Closer, you can see all the different shades that surround his pupils, and his hedging of dark lashes, so dark it’s like he’s wearing makeup. 

“Nothing.” 

“It doesn’t look like nothing.” His hand remains on your shoulder, a brand as the other grabs at a torn corner of a packet you’d failed to throw away. Your lips part in horror, but he can’t be stopped now. “Um, excuse me, lovely girl, but you wouldn’t know what this is off, would you?” 

“Me?” 

“You, yeah.” 

“Um…” You squint at the packaging in mock confusion. “No, don’t think so.” 

“Well, there’s one way to get to the bottom of this.” 

He moves his hand, for which you’re thankful and disappointed at once. It had been close to a hug, that warmth lingering as James opens the kitchen cupboard and sorts through tens of boxes before pulling down a hastily returned cardboard box. ‘JAMES’ has been written across it in bold sharpie. 

He slips out a hot chocolate sachet from the box and compares the scrap he’d found to the corner. They are, unfortunately, an exact match. 

“Where do you get the audacity?” he asks plainly. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“So what’s that, then?” 

“It’s nothing,” you say, sliding the mug further away from you both. 

There’s a silence. James puts the box back in the cupboard and peers at you where you’re curling in on yourself. He’s trying to intimidate you, at least for fun, something weighted and smiley about his gaze as he slides his arm between you and the counter. “If it’s nothing,” he says quietly, “then show it to me.” 

You angle your face up to explain yourself. He’d looked sad, tired even, and you’d hoped making him a cup of hot chocolate would cheer him up. Things between you lately are clearly different, not just to you but to everyone around you. All your interactions feel watched. James’ hand curling against your waist doesn’t even feel new, it just feels firm. 

A big hand, his thumb pressing into your soft stomach. 

Your breath catches as he moves you out of his way. 

“Is this my mug, too?” he asks, all tension draining, your relief a quick breath. (Your disappointment somewhere hidden beneath it.) “You’re the cheekiest girl alive. Shame on you.” 

You give him a strange look. He can’t ignore it, you’re too obvious. 

“What?” he asks, nudging the mug back toward your hand. 

For a second you…

“I’m just kidding,” he says, his eyes widening the longer you remain speechless. “You don’t have to panic. I’m joking, I don’t care.” 

“I was making it for you,” you say. 

James’ brows relax. “You were?” 

You give him the mug, and you don’t know what to do, what can you do? If you linger he’ll work out what you’re thinking, he has a detector for all your most embarrassing thoughts, you’re sure of it. You nod emphatically and weave around him without another word. 

“Y/N,” he says to your back. The door handle is cold in your hand. You almost walk straight into it. “Y/N, wait a second!” 

You turn around, weary of a scene. “I’m fine,” you say, startled by his reaction, “I just need a minute.” 

“What’s wrong?” he asks. 

“I’m fine.” You summon your most convincing smile. Your heart bends against your ribs. “Really.” 

You leave him standing in the kitchen, nonplussed, rushing out of the main part of the office and down the two flights of stairs. Out past the receptionists, down the concrete steps, where you stop at the bottom, and sit down hard. 

What are you doing? 

Where can you go? You can’t go anywhere. James is going to know exactly what it is that made you react like that, is going to realise you have feelings for him entirely outside of the common realm. And you’ll have to keep sitting at your adjacent desks pretending it’s not true. 

Why would he do that to you? His hand on your waist turning you toward him, your faces much closer than they’d ever been. James must know that’s an intimate touch. 

He’s messing with you. 

You spend five minutes glancing out at the car park before he comes to join you. It’s awful that you know that it’s him. The wind blows in pangs against the side of your face. 

“I’m really sorry,” James says, sitting on the second to last step beside you, a strange lack of space between your two bodies. “I didn’t mean to do that to you. To freak you out.” 

“It’s okay.” 

“I really didn’t. I know I’ve messed with you before, but you were looking at me like…” 

You rub your eye, a migraine brewing behind it. “Like what?” you ask. 

“I don’t know. Like that.” 

“How was I looking at you?” 

“I don’t know. Like I– Like I broke your heart.” He laughs ‘cos it’s stupid, but his laugh peters off strangely. 

“James, you were looking at me like you were…” What’s unsaid stays heavily between you. 

He looks off to the side, his hand coming up behind his hand to scratch his hair. Curls pull and plink as his fingers comb through them, he’s rough, but the lengths of his hair are shiny under what little of the sun floods through the cloud cover above. You watch him, stomach aching for an answer, some confirmation, but the more you look the less sure you are that you need it. Everything you feel for him wells to the surface. It’s hot, and urgent, and it’s getting too much for you to hold alone. 

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” he admits quietly. 

“James,” you say, wanting him like a palpable wound. Wanting him to need you too. “James,” you say again, putting your hand on his thigh carefully. 

He covers it instinctively. “What?” he asks. 

“Please, can I…” 

His eyes bore into yours, and follow your gaze when it tips down to his mouth. 

The skin between his brow creases with one deep wrinkle, his full lips twisted into a heart-hurting frown as he leans in. You close your eyes before he can close his own, waiting for him, to kiss you and to get this tugging yearning dealt with, but he doesn’t kiss you. His breath warms your lips and he turns to you completely, but he doesn’t kiss you. 

You want it so badly, you tip your chin up and press your lips to his. Terrified of him, because you really are in the palm of his hand now. It’s worse than when he hated you. 

He has the power to be a thousand times more cruel than he ever had before as you kiss him softly. 

James kisses back a second too late. He’s giving in to it and you’re pulling away, pins and needles in your hands. “Wait,” he says, his voice a shade of longing you’ve never heard, your eyes flashing open at the same time. His hand leaps for your waist. “Wait, please.” 

His fingers press into the dough of your side, holding you still, butterflies alive and riveted under his hand. 

You close your eyes on a whim, and he kisses you soundly. His lips part against yours to encourage a similar movement, his head tilted ever so slightly to one side and your noses smudged together. “Please,” he murmurs against your lips. 

You kiss him back like he kisses you. Soft, open-mouthed. 

His hand comes up to your face, pulling you forward, desperate to keep you close as he sighs against your mouth, the sound a vibration you feel at the back of your throat. 

Please, he’d said, like he wouldn’t get another go. 

Please. The tie on you snaps. 

You kiss him like you’ve never kissed anybody, hoping it isn’t just another obvious trick. 

[tacticalprincess]

ok ok but imagine being simon’s gf and könig just being so infatuated with u :( he likes you so so much, believes you deserve better than simon and just pines after you ^_^

very im on fire of him

könig’s never been one to be discreet about his feelings, especially toward you. he doesn’t owe simon anything, much less loyalty. his crush has become an inside joke amongst the crew, has gotten dirty looks thrown at him by simon too many times to count for being just slightly too touchy to be friendly, too intense in his yearning. tuning in intently whenever you talk, doing small favors for you whenever he gets the chance, asks after you when you’re gone. too close for comfort, oughta get himself in trouble, simon says.

its hard to ignore a stare that burns a hole in the side of your head, weighted like a caress on all the exposed parts of your body. könig gets some sort of satisfaction out of watching you squirm under his intense gaze, eyes trained on you most of the time he’s around, because at least he makes you feel something. he wishes to sliver underneath your skin and infiltrate your thoughts just as you’ve done to him, sending his emotions into haywire just by way of existing. smiling at him so brightly, extending a fraction of the warmth and kindness that comes naturally to you, craves it when he’s alone at night. your boyfriend can’t blame him.

simon’s weird, quiet coworker, helplessly infatuated with you, his too cute, too sweet, too soft girlfriend. could only dream of experiencing the parts of you that are exclusively for simon — wonders how someone like you even ended up with a man like him. looking far too out of place under his tattooed arm, bottom lip tucked between pearly teeth bashfully while he chats to the group of guys in typical boyish manner. the occasional ducks of his head to kiss your forehead when he remembers you’re there is not enough attention showed to such a pretty, doting thing like you, in könig’s humble opinion. it’s not even that he believes he’s better than him, but a selfish part of him would rather you end up in his calloused hands than anyone elses. his mind strays the longer he observes you, imagines all the ways he’d treat you better, take care of you like you deserve. would’ve probably already proposed to you by now given the chance. you might seem happy enough, but that doesn’t stop him from searching for cracks in the polished porcelain. always waiting for a spot to slip in.

he finally gets you alone one night, finds you where you wandered off into price’s basement to fetch more beer. coming behind you to grab the case from your delicate hands like lifting a feather off the ground.

“boyfriend not here to do this for you?”

after you regain your composure from the startle, you scoff, peering up at könig through your lashes. “just thought i’d do something nice for him.”

“sweet. does he always allow you to do a man’s job?” sarcasm bites at his words.

“allow me—?”

“do you think he even noticed your absence, maus?” he presses a bit harder, his face holding the same indifference it always does under his mask, tone flat around his accent. “as i did?”

his eyes search yours for a second, looking for any sign of reciprocation for his feelings, and somehow you can tell he knows you don’t know how to respond. as a show of mercy, he steps to the side to let you squeeze past his frame and up the stairs leading back inside the house, heavy footsteps following slowly behind. he watches as you so easily slip back into simon’s side, how his arm finds its home around your shoulders without effort. concern knits your boyfriend’s eyebrows together as he leans down to peck your lips, never breaking eye contact with könig over your shoulder, a petty display of ownership. he watches.

[rikstar]

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ You're mine!

୨୧ alternatively , you getting jealous/ them getting jealous/ someone trying to hit on you or them

Contains୨୧ non Idol!Au,Jealousy , them/you being upset, slightly suggestive in Sunghoon's part, established relationship, mentions of drinking

୨୧Heeseung

Your eyebrow twitched slightly in annoyance , your eyebrows furrowing a little as you watched a girl trying to get closer to your Boyfriend, touching his arm and batting her false lashes at him. Heeseung , you and the rest of the boys went to go bowling together on a Saturday night — you had left together with Sunoo to fetch some drinks for the groups. You were gone for 5 minutes , it took a mere 5 minutes for some girl to try and get your boyfriends attention. Your eyes were fixated on them , as much as you felt jealous , you felt more upset because this girl was all up in his personal space while he clearly looked uncomfortable. You were well aware that your boyfriend was handsome , very handsome , so it was no surprise that girls would try to hit on him — but come on , she saw that you were on his lap just a couple minutes ago. "You okay?", Sunoo asked a bit worried since you didn't move from your spot , nudging you slightly which caused you to start walking again. "I'm okay", you nodded , taking a deep breath as you calmed down and set the drinks down. Your hand grabbed a can of soda that you had already opened , the straw in your mouth as you walked over to Heeseung while sipping on the refreshing drink. "Hey babe , want some?", You asked as you wrapped your free arm around his , holding the can of soda up with the straw facing his mouth. "Oh , am I interrupting your chat with my boyfriend?", you asked as you finally looked at the girl , giving her a smile while she just gave you a fake one. She dismissed herself and left to go back to her friends , glaring slightly with a huff as she sat down. "Thank you love , she just wouldn't stop talking to me", Heeseung sighed , clearly upset that someone disrespected his person space as he wrapped an arm around your waist and leaned his head against your shoulder.

୨୧Jay

Jay's lips were pursed as he swiveled the wine in his wine glass , his back leaned against the wall as he watched you closely. He trusted you with all his heart — but he didn't trust his coworker who was talking to you. He watched the way you awkwardly laughed and took a step back whenever the coworker got too close just for him to take another step closer to you. "Jay , are you listening?", his boss asked , noticing that the younger was distracted which made him turn his attention back to his boss while keeping an eye on you. You were Jay's accompaniment for the celebration party of the company he worked in , no one knew that he was your boyfriend since he never clarified that you were his girlfriend — he thought it would be obvious especially since he said that he'd bring his girlfriend along. "Excuse me for a second", Jay replied , handing his glass to his boss before strutting over to you. A smile spread across your face as you felt his arms wrap around your waist from behind , your hand resting on top of his arm and that's when the coworker finally saw that you wore an engagement ring. "Love , my boss would like to meet you", Jay said softly , rubbing his hand gently against your stomach as he leaned in and kissed your cheek. "If you'd excuse us", Jay nodded at his coworker before he took your hand in his , interlocking your fingers and leading you to his boss — introducing you to each other while he side glanced at the coworker

୨୧Jake

Jake had a bright smile on his face as he was on his way to a café , a place where Jake and you always met up during your lunch breaks since you two conveniently had lunch break around the same time. It doesn't matter if he just saw you this morning , he practically can't breathe and continue to live if he doesn't see you almost every single hour a day. But that smile soon faded when he spotted you talking to someone with a small smile on your face, he couldn't recognize the guy. His jaw clenched slightly as he walked into the café. the feeling of jealousy bubbling in his chest as he immediately walked over to you ,just to hear you giggling at whatever the guy was saying. "Hey Baby!", Jake interrupted your conversation , twirling you around to face him ,his hands placed on your waist as he leaned in and kisses you on the lips. Another giggle came from you as you kissed him back , your hands gently resting on his cheek which made his heart flutter. You broke the kiss and grabbed his hand , pulling him next to you as you gestured with your hand to the guy. "Jake , this is an old classmate of mine. This is my boyfriend Jake!", You introduced them to each other , Jake offering the guy a subtle nod which he returned with a small smile. "So you're Jake yeah? (Y/n) just told me a lot about you. It's nice to meet you", the guy grinned , stifling a laugh as he watched the way Jake's ears increasingly got redder. "He just told me about how he's getting married soon and invited us to his wedding", you turned to him with a smile before the guy told you to just text him whether or not you two would be coming before bidding his goodbye's. "Jaaaake? You weren't possible jealous , right?", your tone was clearly teasing , watching as he shook his head violently. "Nope! Absolutely no!"

୨୧Sunghoon

Sunghoon easily got jealous , he didn't like it whenever other guys were near you unless he knew them — but even then it bothered him , just slightly less if it were an stranger. To say he felt annoyed when Jay put his hand on your shoulder was an understatement , his eyebrow was twitching and his tongue was poking into his cheek. He knew he was right , he had a gut feeling all along that Jay developed a little crush on you — on one hand , Sunghoon couldn't blame him , you were an angel , but you were his angel. On the other hand , he felt annoyed because Jay knew that you were dating Sunghoon. Yes , Sunghoon was aware that no one could control their feelings , but come on. "Excuse us for a second..", Sunghoon grumbled as he took you by the waist , leading you to his room. "S-Sunghoon what has g-gotten into you?", you asked between heavy pants after he broke the heated kiss , your lips were red and slightly swollen to a point they felt sore. He had a firm grip on your waist as he pressed you against his wooden door, his hair tickling your jawline as his head dipped into the crook of your neck , his hot breath fanning against your skin. "Have to remind a certain someone who you belong to and that he can only dream of having you as his", Sunghoon mumbled , his lips brushing against your skin before he latched onto it , his fang grazing your skin as he nibbled on it.

୨୧Sunoo

It was rare for him to get jealous , very rare , but he couldn't help but roll his eyes whenever you giggled at your mutual male friends jokes — they weren't even funny , even Jay's jokes where funnier than that. His fingers impatiently tapped on the wooden table , reaching for his soju bottle with his other hand to take a huge gulp from it — maybe you just found the jokes funny because you were a bit tipsy , but even if he was full on drunk , the jokes wouldn't have been funny. And to add on it , that guy was way too close to you for his liking. He rolled his eyes one more time , side eyeing the guy before he wrapped an arm around your waist to pull you closer to him. Sunoo leaned in and pressed a few kisses against your cheek , smiling when he heard you giggling and telling him that it tickled. His eyes glanced to the clock , finishing his bottle of soju before he cleared his throat. "I think we should go now , (Y/n) and I have to go to a family function tomorrow and it would be better for us not to drink too much. You guys have fun", Sunoo announced as he got up , slightly pulling you up with him and sighing when you protested a little. "Love , not now okay? You can drink all you want next week , I don't want you being hungover tomorrow", Sunoo whispered as he cupped your face , gently pressing a kiss on your pouty lips before grabbing your purse and Jacket — helping you put your jacket on while he kept carrying your purse.

୨୧Jungwon

You loved your Boyfriend to bits , but sometimes , he was a bit oblivious of his surroundings. Your eyebrows were a bit furrowed as huffed , your eyebrow twitching slightly in annoyance. You and Jungwon were outside , taking Maeumi on a walk in the park when you left for a second to look for Maeumi's ball that the little dog couldn't find as it was too far away. You came back to see a girl maybe a year younger than him talk to him , gushing about how cute Maeumi was and that she was so sad that she didn't bring her fog with her for a little "Play date". You knew how girls were , using that excuse to get closer to the owner. Your hand gripped the ball in your hand a bit tighter , having the urge to "accidentally" throw it at her but you took a deep breathe. The small dog perked up when you came into his view and tried to run to you , but the leash in Jungwon's hand made it unable for Maeumi to run to you — tugging constantly on the leash which made Jungwon look into your direction , a bright smile immediately stretching on his face. "(Y/n)! She has a Samoyed , those dogs you love so much!", Jungwon grinned , holding his arm open to put it over your shoulder as you walked over to stand next to him while you smiled down at Maeumi as the little dog kept putting his paws on your leg to get the ball. "A-Ah it's time for me to go now", the girl apologized , smiling with pursed lips before she left. Thankfully , Jungwon didn't notice that you were feeling jealous or else he would've teased you for the whole day.

୨୧Riki

You knew that by being a dancer , Riki often interacted with female dancers and you didn't had any problem with it since he was a dance instructor in his Family's dance company after all , but what you had a problem with was the fact that he had to do a partner dance with a girl. The dance was a slow and romantic one , a dance that made your stomach churn. Riki noticed that something was bothering you , seeming a bit less energetic as he talked about the dance. A small sigh escaped his lips , putting his hand on your waist to pull your closer to him as the two of you laid on his bed. "Wanna tell me what's wrong?", Riki asked , his thumb gently rubbing into your waist. "I just... do you have to be the one to do the dance with her..? You know that I have no problem with you dancing or interacting with girls since it is part of your job and hobby after all , but I feel slightly uncomfortable with the idea of you dancing with her to a romantic song..", you mumbled , feeling a bit ashamed for feeling uncomfortable with it but Riki let out a quiet laugh. "Why didn't you say so before? I'm just practicing with her because she wanted to surprise her girlfriend on their first date. She wanted to take her girlfriend to the beach for a picnic and wanted to dance with her under the moonlight. You don't have to be jealous ,I only love you but if you feel uncomfortable with it , I'll ask Konon if she'll practice with her instead of me", Riki reassured you with a loving yet playful grin on his face , leaning in to give your cheek a kiss — a small squeak coming from you as he playfully bit your cheek and laughed as you hit his chest.

[cntloup]

simon x caféworker!reader

part 1

as soon as his figure appears through the door of the café, you perk up, eyes glinting and the previous annoyance with your clumsy coworkers and rude customers long forgotten.

it's like his presence alone brings a sense of calmness to the atmosphere, or maybe it's just your undeniable infatuation with him.

he walks up to you with heavy strides and orders his usual black coffee after saying hi with a lingering gaze on your face that lasts an eternity, it feels like.

you almost melt under his intense glare, beautiful hazel eyes locked onto yours as you stare at each other.

"oh... right." you say, shaking your head with a nervous chuckle, finally acknowledging the words that left his mouth and realizing the staring contest could last forever, "coming right up." you utter and move to prepare his order.

he takes a seat on a stool and rests his arms on the counter, letting out a weary sigh as he pinches the bridge of his nose.

"long day?" you ask while your hands are busy making his coffee, eyebrows furrowed in concern, "long month." he replies, his voice deep and dark.

"didn't see you for a while? been away?" you question as you place the coffee in front of him, curiosity bubbling up inside you, but you're careful not to pry or sound too nosy since you know about his secretive nature.

"yeah. deployment. about a month." he responds in a monotone manner. but the pain and exhaustion are evident in his eyes as you take a short glance at him.

"wanna talk about it? i'll take my smoke break in five minutes." you offer kindly, despite knowing he most probably will decline.

"i'll share a smoke, but the talking part... not really my thing." he says, his low voice accompanied by a bitter chuckle.

"ok! i'll be right back." you smile and he nods as you leave to finish your business and return about two minutes later.

"care to join me, mr. riley?" you ask while a playful smile dances on your lips, making him chuckle as he follows you through the backdoor.

"i missed you..." you blurt out, mentally slapping yourself, "i mean... talking to you and sharing a smoke... you know?" you correct yourself and take a drag before handing him the cigarette.

"yea... me too." he mutters, taking the cig from you, his rough fingers lightly brushing against yours.

you spend a few minutes as a comfortable silence settles between you, exchanging occasional glances and soft smiles.

'this is really nice.' you think to yourself before he gently taps your chin with his index finger, shaking you out of your trance.

you turn to him as he takes a long drag and you get the message, opening your lovely lips, waiting for him.

and he leans in, placing his lips onto yours and blows the smoke into your mouth as you take it all in.

you smile lovingly at him, and in that moment he realizes how much he wants you, needs you... gazing at your gorgeous features illuminated by the soft evening light.

he wastes no time, no place for hesitation, he thinks to himself as he leans in to capture your lips with his and you return the loving kiss, laced with longing and desperation.

you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him impossibly closer as your lips dance smoothly together.

"i'll pick you up at 7." he murmurs against your lips after pulling away breathless, "ok." you breathe out, chest heaving as you catch your breath.

and he walks away without another word, leaving you in shock and awe at what just happened.

[nathaslosthershit]

Time Flies (slowly) [LN4]

(Read part 1 here) Summary: Years later, Lando hasn’t forgotten about the one that got away. A/N: here is a happy ending after all the angst in part 1

There was so much anger and resentment, so much hatred, after the breakup. Lando's now ex-girlfriend had graduated medical school. What was supposed to be one of the happiest days of her life was overshadowed by the overwhelming feeling that the one person she wanted there with her, the man who had stayed by her side (even while across the world), wasn’t there. 

But she was too proud to reach out, as was he. As Lando stalked her private instagram on one of his spam accounts she forgot to remove from her following, he felt the urge to call, or even just text a simple “congratulations, I am still unequivocally in love with you by the way”. Maybe that was too much though.

With a career like hers, she wasn't out of the clear once she graduated, she still had what felt like millenia left of training to do. So she threw herself into her career. She didn’t want to think about her ex, so she didn’t give herself time to think. 

That worked for a while. Two years went by and she had been on top of her game. Training to work as an ER nurse had been difficult but rewarding. At first, only months after the breakup, she had a hard time but her philosophy of “working so hard you are too tired at the end of the day to think about how you lost the love of your life” had done her good for a while. 

But, she had started to slowly fray at the edges. Sleeping just enough to sustain her but not enough to make her feel rejuvenated. Eating small meals to get her through the day but not enough to feel full. She thought she could get through it.

It wasn’t until she had a 22 year old that had gotten into a racing accident that she really realized how bad she had been feeling. All of the feelings she had been pushing down immediately came charging back up when she saw a tanned boy with curly brown hair. As she helped give him the medical care he needed, she kept reminding herself of the same thing, it's not Lando, Lando is okay, it's not Lando, Lando is fine. It wasn’t until she had tipped a cart full of sterilized tools over that she realized how much she was shaking. One of her coworkers, another nurse on her floor, had to drag her away while she insisted she was fine. She continued on, or at least tried to, until she had made a few too many minor mistakes and was forced to go home. 

Walking into her flat, she made it just a few steps before she broke down. Exhaustion took over and she was unable to even get up after she cried herself to sleep right on the rug. Hours later she had finally gotten the energy to shower and then rot in bed. After what felt like eternity of  staring at the ceiling, she grabbed her phone, hovering over the call button on Lando’s contact that she had been so unable to block, much less delete, over the past two years. 

At what felt like rock bottom though, why not start digging some more?

Pressing the call button, she started to panic, wondering what she would say, till she finally heard his voice for the first time in years. “Hey, this is Lando, pretty busy at the moment, leave a message at the beep!” Voicemail. She had gained confidence for the first time in years and she was sent straight to voicemail. 

It was loud in the club Lando was in. He had started off the night with friends at a nice restaurant and after enough drinks had been passed around, drinks that he declined, they ended up at the club they currently were in. Most of his company was off with their significant others, or dancing with people he just met, while Lando was sitting and talking to a woman who had confidently approached him earlier.

He didn’t feel the phone vibrating in his back pocket when he had his arm around her as they made small conversation. It wasn’t until he started to get nauseous from the smell of alcohol everywhere that he went to the bathroom to check his phone, seeing he had missed a call from the person he thought about the most, even after years apart. 

Since the breakup, Lando had been a mess. It wasn’t his idea to break up. They had issues that they definitely needed to fix, issues they should have talked through instead of letting them snowball for so long, but it shouldn’t have ended the way it did. The minute they hung up those years ago he wanted to call her right back- no, he wanted to book a fight and see her immediately. 

Maybe it was the hope that had ignited in him for the first time in forever, maybe it was the second hand intoxication from being in a club full of drunk people, but Lando pressed call back, praying to hear her voice.

She had had enough time to realize that calling him years after she broke up with him was a stupid decision to make, so of course after it got declined she turned her phone off for the night. She didn’t have anyone else who would contact her anyway.

Because of this, she missed the first call Lando made, then the next seven. It was like an addiction he quickly picked up. After that sliver of hope came back, he couldn’t stop the thoughts that crept in. 

He thought it might have been a mistake on her end, she did ignore the rest of his calls- scratch that, the line was immediately cut the moment he tried to call back. 

But the little voice in his head kept saying ‘try again, maybe she will pick up, maybe there is hope’.

He didn’t sleep the rest of the night. He didn’t sleep the most of the next night either, not till he gave into the voice in his head and bought a plane ticket. 

As Lando sat on the flight, his mind ran through some of his favorite memories over their relationship, then, once those ran out, he imagined what it would be like when he showed up on her doorstep once more. He’d have a lot to explain, like why he was suddenly on her doorstep of her new apartment he had no actual reason to know the address to, something he was given by a good mutual friend who was very tired about hearing both sides moaning about how single they were.

It was all a blur as he landed and swiftly ran through the airport. He hadn’t packed more than an overnight backpack, deciding if this went horribly he would immediately go home to mop around, and if it went amazing he’d figure something out.

Standing in front of her doorstep now, he quickly knocked before he lost all remaining confidence. 

“Lando? What the fuck?” Was all she was able to get out. She would have felt insecure about how disheveled she looked if the man standing in front of her didn’t also look just as terrible. 

“I know, I know. This makes no sense, I have no reason to be here, and it's weird that I know your address.” He replied, correctly guessing every question she had but not giving a single answer to any of them. 

“At least you are self aware.”

“I had to see you, it was genuinely ruining my life. After you called and I missed it, I tried calling back for hours. I didn’t sleep, I couldn’t sleep because all I could think about was why you called. If you had needed help, if it was a buttdial, or if you finally wanted to speak to me as much as I needed to speak to you after these few years. It's so strange feeling so many feelings for someone you broke up with too long ago to still be in love with. That relationship- our relationship was so far from perfect, long distance was too hard for either of us so instead we just phoned it in and stopped trying. But I just really miss you and I really want to make this work.”

This was crazy, both of them realized. Crazy of him to travel to another country after missing one phone call, crazy to have hope after years of silence on both ends, crazy to think that they could mend a relationship they both had let fall apart without giving it a fighting chance. But this was that fighting chance, this was the moment that could make or break them.

But she didn’t have anything to say, she couldn’t think of anything to say. So, when she pulled him by the collar and kissed him harder than he had ever been kissed, she hoped that he got her message.

It would be a long road to recovery, but it would be worth it.

Tagging: @eviethetheatrefreak, @96jnie, @youreverydayfangirl, @jxnellat, @eringaitskill, @slytherinholland

[mintaikcorpse]

Headcanon that Vox and Val were like the Ozzie and Fizz of the Pride Ring, with everyone theorizing about them being together but nothing being confirmed for years.

(Not Val's arm being around Vox's, lol)

When the media asked Vox about it, he'd always awnser something like, "Val is my coworker, and I trust him dearly. Our relationship is nothing more than that," since he doesn't want to deal with tabloids and also some internalized 1950s homophobia of "being queer will be your downfall."

When the media asked Val, he'd always give different awnsers, but never confirming or denying. Always depends on his mood. Sometimes he'd awnser thay Vox is his business partner, sometimes he'd complain that Vox never wants to act in his pornos, sometimes he'd call Vox a bitch, sometimes he'd talk about Vox's ass, etc, etc.

When the media asked Vel, she would ALWAYS give an awnser that would make sure it would have shippers on their toes. Keeping people wondering, "are they a thing?" and analyzing everything they do in the public would keep their attention on the Vees and keep them invested in their industries for longer, so she would never give a straight awnsers, saying things like, "I have no comment," or, "hard to say," or just teasing people being like "that's between them and their room at night."

Anyways, it was confirmed when Vel posted this photo out of boredom and to have the media explode

[jenomi]

gala night with jeno

pairing: non-idol!jeno x afab!reader content warnings: FLUFF! :3 & suggestive if you squint

✧･ﾟ: *✧*:･ﾟ✧

"babe are you ready? we're gonna be late" you hear your fiancé jeno call from the kitchen.

"yes yes yes" you trot out of the room quickly carrying your heels.

tonight, you were attending the annual summer gala hosted by your company. it was one of the most talked about events of the year for it's grandeur and auction items. you were feeling a mixture of excitement and nervousness, but knowing you'll have jeno by your side brought you comfort.

"okay" you quietly whisper to yourself as you finish putting on your heels and check your hair and makeup in the mirror by the door. you stand up straight and smooth out the material of your dress. "how do i look?" you turn to face jeno.

"beautiful." he says on an exhale.

your heart skips a beat as you step closer to your fiancé and fix his tie. "you look handsome as ever" you whisper laying your hand on his chest as you tilt your head up to give him a kiss and a smile.

he wraps his arm around your waist pulling you closer and deepening the kiss. as you pull back with a smile, jeno follows your lips.

"this is why i didn't put on any lip product yet" you laugh lightly and you swear you hear jeno moan softly. you quickly finish your lip routine in the mirror before receiving a text from your friend who's also attending the gala tonight.

"okay kimmy just texted me saying her and jaemin just left their apartment. we should go too" you say grabbing your clutch and typing a quick reply to your coworker/friend.

jeno grabs his car keys, "mm let's go" he smiles and kisses your cheek before opening the door for you.

he holds your hand down to the car and makes sure you step over any gaps, grates, and puddles in your heels. you smile fondly at him each time, you wonder how you could fall more in love with him, yet it happens more and more everyday.

as you pull up to the hotel that the gala was hosted at, jeno makes sure your door stays locked so valet can't open your door and help you out of the car. he wants to do that himself, and it makes you laugh every time. your silly, jealous fiancé.

the building was beautiful, lights framing the stairs leading up to it and the hotel lights illuminating the clear night sky.

you bump into your friend and her boyfriend as you're waiting for the elevator. you exchange greetings and feel grateful that you and jeno have friends to help keep you company. jeno and jaemin grew close through you and kimmy, even planning hang outs without the two of you. you both laugh and say that they're in love.

you all enter the ballroom fashionably late as the auction begins. you both don't plan on going home with anything, but you do your duty and place bids on things you wouldn't mind having but once the price gets too high, you tap out. nonetheless, you both still try to have fun, whispering silly comments to each other and having to hide your laughs with your panels.

"that vase would look amazing in our boat" jeno whispered. you don't have a boat.

"my mom would love that" you whisper about a clutch completely covered in jewels. she would hate that. "so would mine" jeno responds. his mom would hate it even more.

when the live auction concludes, you and kimmy head to find your supervisors to say your hellos and have your chats while jeno and jaemin take to the silent auction. if jeno sees something he'd think you'd like, he'll place a generous bid on it. in years past, you've come home to him gifting you a beautiful yet simple necklace that he'll shyly reveal that he won at the gala you attended together. your eyes light up when you receive such an unexpected gift, that he tries to continue the tradition and win something he knows you'd love each year to be the reason for the surprised look on your face.

after a few glasses of champagne (but not for jeno, since he's driving) and a healthy amount of mingling, you and jeno start your goodbyes and head home. you're thoroughly tipsy at this point, clinging onto jeno's arm or having jeno's arm secure around your waist. you giggle as you enter the empty elevator to go down to the lobby.

"i love you" you rest your chin on his chest.

his eyes crease as he smiles, "i love you too baby" and leans down to give you a peck on the lips.

as you exit the building, you squeal as your fiancé carries you bridal style down the stairs earning you a few stares and some smiles. jeno didn't care. all he cared about was you - he knew your feet were hurting from being in your heels all night, and he didn't want you hurting yourself any more than you already have.

jeno sets you down on at the bottom of the stairs with a pat on your ass before he hands his ticket to valet to get his car. as you wait, jeno wraps his jacket around your shoulders. you weren't cold, but jeno always worries and doesn't want you to get sick. he walks away for a moment, leaving you confused since valet is already grabbing his car.

you see him approach a younger couple and shyly ask, "hi. sorry, do you mind taking a picture of me and my fiancé?"

they happily agree and you and jeno pose lovingly in front of the illuminated steps. jeno wraps his hand around your waist and you turn your body towards him and place your left hand on his chest. you both smile for the camera but then jeno leans down to give you a kiss on the cheek. you giggle as you turn to look up at him and place your hand on his neck.

you momentarily forget your picture was being taken until the young girl gives the phone back to jeno. he thanks her right as his car pulls up.

of course, jeno opens the door for you before tipping the valet driver discreetly with a handshake. you watch the interaction intently before jeno gets in the car.

"you know its customary to tip valet, right? you don't have to do a secret handshake" you tease.

"yea, but i feel cool doing it" you laugh at his honest response as he leans over the console to buckle your seat belt for you. he pulls back before leaning in to give you a quick kiss again before putting the car in drive.

as jeno drives home, you unlock his phone to look at the pictures you just took. they were beautiful, honestly almost as beautiful as your engagement photos. the lighting was perfect, and you could see the sparkle in both your and jeno's eyes. your engagement ring sparkles on your hand against his chest. and in the photos before he leans down to kiss you on the cheek, you can see jeno looking down at you like you're his whole world and it makes your heart strings pull. and in the last few photos, you're both looking at each other with silly smiles and nothing but love in your eyes. your diamond ring catches the moonlight in the last photo, making it shine brighter than ever just like your love for each other.

you quickly send all the photos to yourself before reaching over and grabbing jeno's hand and giving him a kiss on the cheek. he smiles at you and kisses the back of your hand before focusing back on the road. his hand rests innocently on your thigh, but you both know the main event begins when you get home.

[ilovejoostklein]

Sweet Vodka

Joost performs at the club you bartend at and thinks you’re pretty // joost x fem!reader

part 1/2

nsfw: smut

-

It would be a miracle if you’d walk out tonight with your sanity, much less your hearing. You were on the other side of the club, hugged by the neon pink and purple lights that reminded you of the sunsets outside that you always missed. Ever since you moved to the Netherlands for university, you have been working like a dog to pay your way and enjoy life in a new country. It was tempting not to sneak a drink or take a shot with the customers, the ones that were friendly enough to ask an extremely drunken man or tourist, now and then to drink away your loneliness.

You dressed nicely today as your manager warned you it would be a lot busier than usual. You ironed your black work blouse for once, you wore the clean waist apron and slacks that hugged your figure rather than the stained, comfortable ones. Your legs were hidden by the counter, you figured it was pointless to be uncomfortable through your eight-hour shift just for the sake of vanity. Your hair was pulled back neatly, and a few strands fell out against your flushed face as you had a full bar and were trying your best to manage with your coworker. You did your makeup just enough so that it wouldn’t melt off, but still accentuated your features even in the dim club. 

“It’s crazy tonight.” You shouted to one of the four other bartenders tonight, Laura, as you passed each other, a drink in each hand. 

She shook her head, “Not as crazy as the performer.”

You glanced over your shoulder towards where the source of the beaming lights and densely crowded stage was. You were quite far away, you couldn’t make out the tall blonde man who somehow had the crowd mesmerized. You smiled to yourself, it was cute how he was jumping around the stage and was so carefree, it was a nice change from the performers singing ballads or DJs who took themselves too seriously. 

“It’s cute.” You said, earning an eye roll, causing you to protest with a laugh “ What .” 

“This is his last song and he and his friends are about to give us hell when they get over here.” She warned. “It always happens with these younger performers.”

Laura was like your work mom, and you hated it when she was right. The set ended, the crowd was louder than ever with their goodbye and dispersed out the door, towards the bar, or stayed on the dance floor for the DJ’s set. It made the night run smoother that your shift was over in only an hour. The rush rolled off your back, people weren’t ordering fancy cocktails, opting for shots, and just wanted to get wasted. 

“Bring these to the back.” Laura suddenly tapped your shoulder and nodded towards a tray with a bottle of vodka and five shot glasses. “For the performers.”

You took the tray without a second thought and made your way to where the performers stayed. it was behind where the stage was, protected by a bodyguard and a key that you had clipped to your keychain inside one of your apron pockets. 

Tonight, one of the bouncers was there and luckily let you in, saving you from performing a balancing act. You thanked him breathlessly, walking into the fluorescent halls and squinting immediately. It was strangely desolate, the club was an older building and the bright white lights against the intricate architecture gave you a cold feeling. The lowly feeling of servitude and marching up drinks for a performer and his friends, who would either treat you sweetly or like the dirt on their shoe didn’t help your nerves. 

You followed the commotion of men laughing and talking in a mix of Dutch and English. As you suspected, your ears were ringing quite intensely , your head and eyes ached from the brightness and loudness of his hour-long set. Upon reaching the weathered door, you took a deep breath and knocked.

The door practically flew open and you felt yourself die from the embarrassment of how the room went silent, even if you couldn’t see inside. “I’m here with the bottle you ordered.” You announced tensely. 

“Thank you.” The man who opened the door said, taking it from your hands with a warm smile. You noticed his eyes scanned you from top to bottom before coming back to meet your gaze. “Why don’t you come inside?” He offered. 

He only had the door open, just enough to take the tray from your hands. It wasn’t the first time a performer had invited you back. Nothing ever came of it besides someone from his team thought you were cute and wanted to take you to wherever they were staying, but you always politely declined, never even stepping foot inside. How many people were in there, five, ten? Did they bring back women from the crowd and just want to add you to the bunch? The possibilities made you withdraw from the door, making your timidness painfully obvious from the way you stepped back and your eyes darted to the floor. 

“Just come in for a quick drink.” He pressed gently. “So we have an excuse to get another bottle.” 

You were dying for a drink and to get away from the commotion, a quick shot wouldn’t hurt you. In all honesty, your curiosity got the better of you as well. You never saw the inside of that room and the performers themselves had never spoken to you besides for their drink order. 

To your surprise, only five men were sitting on the couches watching something on the TV. Two of them were smoking, making the room smell heavily of cigarettes which made you grow even dizzier. It was common here, but you never could get used to the pungent smell of tobacco.

What overwhelmed your senses more was the performer himself, Joost. You knew his face and his name from the promotional posters plastered around the club. You couldn’t help the blush that engulfed your cheeks and the coldness that spread across your chest. He had the sweetest smile you’d ever seen, it lit up his whole face and radiated warmth. You felt yourself burn completely in his presence alone. 

“Please, sit.” Joost made space for you on the couch right beside him. “I don’t think it’s good to drink standing.” 

You watched one of the men pour the shots, and you realized they were of course a glass short as they couldn’t have possibly accounted for you. You watched awkwardly, folding into yourself as they slammed the glasses down and the other men turned their attention towards each other. 

Joost reached over for the bottle and turned to you. “Your turn.” He began to take the cap off and your eyes slightly widened as you realized what he was doing. “Open.”

You nervously opened your mouth and closed your eyes, praying internally that you wouldn’t spit it out all over the table, or worse his clothes. He poured a little over a shot in your mouth and you swallowed quickly, the bitterness killing whatever appetite you worked up and blanketing you with the warming goosebumps that hard liquor brought over your skin. 

The men chuckled at the grimace on your face as you quickly wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. It was sticky with your lip gloss and the remnants of vodka, but you desperately wanted another shot to soothe your nerves. You felt too many eyes on you, and the mood of the room had completely shifted from your presence. 

They announced that they wanted to go sit by the bar, it was too quiet in the dressing room for their liking, and they were hungry, grabbing their coats, and taking a few more shots before leaving. You had a suspicion from their sudden shift in demeanor and fleeting glances that they wanted to leave the two of you alone. 

“I’m Joost.” The man stuck out his hand, you took it for a firm handshake before bringing your hand towards his lips and pressing a kiss against it.

You introduced yourself, watching as he looked up from your hand, soft lips still pressed against your skin and his eyes fixed on yours. It was like it was morning again, looking up at the blue sky but the darkness of his pupils reminded you it was just his eyes, bringing you back to the reality of the room. 

“Can I have another drink?” You couldn’t believe you had the nerve to ask, but he smiled that adorable smile again and nodded. 

“Of course.” He opened the bottle and poured another shot and a half into your mouth. “Another one?” He questioned, watching as you struggled to swallow the disgusting vodka. 

“No, thanks.” You said, feeling the warmth again that you loved so much. 

“Good, because I wasn’t going to give it to you.” He said, you felt yourself smile. “One shot was enough.”

“You’re right.” You watched as he poured a shot for himself. “We have great beer, you know.” 

He hummed as he took the shot as if it was water. “Are you trying to get away from me already?” He asked playfully. 

You wondered how worried your expression was before you spoke because he quickly tried to assure you, “Unless you have to get back to work.” He reiterated. “I don’t want to hold you captive.”

“No, it’s not that.” You laughed, “My shift is over soon anyway.” 

A smile spread across his face, it was so charming you felt an overwhelming need to kiss him, but you blamed that on the alcohol. “Oh.” He said, “I’m lucky.” 

“You’re lucky?” You questioned, the two shots taking full effect especially because you had them on an empty stomach. 

“I wanted to invite you to my apartment.” He said. “I saw you on the way inside, you’re very pretty.”

You were taken aback by his boldness. In the few months that you were here, you’d be so unsuccessful with dates. You were so lonely in your apartment, beautiful as it was you made it into your cozy haven to return to after a long day at school or work. It slowly ate you up inside that you had no one to share it with, and you returned every night to a cold, empty bed. You felt the breaking point right within the room, you couldn’t bear to return to a desolate apartment again. 

“Come to mine.” You said it without a second thought, the burning brush on your cheek returning to your face. 

It seemed that Joost couldn’t believe you either. His head turned to the side and his eyebrows furrowed as he seemed to inspect your unsure expression. It seemed that both of you were tipsy, with flushed cheeks, and staring at each other in an eerily quiet room. 

“Really?” He questioned. “Do you take people back to your apartment often?”

“No.” You retorted, still not able to get over how direct he was. “I haven’t had anyone over, yet.”

He let out a dry laugh, “I can take you on a date then.” He offered. “Or, I can come to your apartment and take you on the date after. Your choice.”

You could tell he was genuine, and self-assured in he didn’t have to misguide and press you for anything. Charisma exuded out of him, you couldn’t get enough. You were never one to hook up with a stranger but for whatever reason this time was the one, and likely last exception. You couldn’t stop staring at your reflection in his eyes, or taking in all his features when he smiled. You felt yourself lean closer to him, smelling the cologne on his skin and clothing that was dull, crisp fresh scent. 

It was like a string was woven in between your bodies, and kept bringing you closer. Joost’s hands cupped your face and brought you closer so that your chests were pressed up against each other. You felt your eyes flutter shut as his lips pressed against yours. They were soft and bitter from vodka and sweet tobacco. This was all purely lustful, shameless physical attraction. You thought he was the hottest man you’d seen since you arrived, and to him, you were too pretty to pass up. 

The kiss deepened, and you heard him moan softly every time he pulled away and it drove you wild. You felt yourself growing bolder and more confident as you grabbed his shoulders tightly, bunching up the smooth cotton of his shirt so that he’d be on top of you. He sighed deeply, pulling away to pepper kisses against your cheeks, moving down to your neck to lick and suck against the sensitive skin. 

You gasped loud enough that it made him put his hand over your mouth to keep you quiet. He pressed his knee between your legs, drawing out a muffled cry as you writhed against his knee and took what little bit of pleasure he was giving you. 

He kept kissing and sucking on your neck, alternating sides, making sure to kiss your cheeks to cool the tension between you so that you didn’t up just fucking on the couch at your job. He could tell how much you liked it, you were already such a mess beneath him. It gave him the suspicion it was a while since anyone had touched you like this. The thought of it only excited him more, that you let him, a man you didn’t know at all, be the one to have you this way. 

Joost felt himself growing impatient, and he could see from the way you were holding onto him and rubbing over the bulge in his pants that you were too. He didn’t want to fuck you on the old, worn-down couch at the club, he knew that you’d both want to shower, and the thought of a sloppy fuck turned him off. 

He pulled away from you to grab his phone frantically from the table to text his friends, asking them to bring the car around to the back. His face was wet, his shirt was unbuttoned, hair disheveled, your legs in his lap. His heart pounded against his chest and the excitement filling his body was unbearable. He prayed that you didn’t live far away. 

“What’s your address?” He asked, not looking at the glowing screen of the phone. The light reflected against his sharp features making you lose focus. 

“I just live up the street.” You said, desperation seeping from your tone. “We could walk there.” 

Joost thought about it briefly, before deciding he’d save himself from the added torture of having to walk with you. He imagined how you’d look under the warm street lights, how the wind would blow through your hair that he’d let down, the way the cold air would pinch your already flushed cheeks. He knew your eyes would sparkle so much it would make the stars envious. He’d chosen to be selfish. 

“We have a car.” He said, “Just tell the driver where you live.”

You wondered why he would opt for a car ride that lasted no more than a few seconds, but it didn’t matter much. You arrived at your apartment, a small two-level building where you lived on the upper level over a newly vacant property. It was charming, an old, brick building with white trimming on the windows and flower boxes with pale pink peonies. You led him upstairs, not before fumbling with the key so much it made him laugh and smack your ass to hurry up. 

The two went up the stairs like teenage lovers, the lightness and excitement of it all brought you so much comforting relief that it wasn’t a dirty affair. He didn’t walk up with you in silence, his mind only on one thing. Even if you both were acting on purely physical intentions, there was a sense of playfulness rather than secrecy.

Joost brought a duffle bag with him, from the car, presumably a change of clothes and things he needed to spend the night. He asked to use your shower. 

“I’ll be quick.” He called out as he shut the door. 

It was strange having another man in your apartment. You sat on the couch, listening to the echo of him humming in the shower and the water hitting the porcelain. Your mind began to wonder, if you should open the bottle of red wine you got as a housewarming gift that was collecting dust in your cupboard, whether your coworkers were annoyed that you disappeared and would interrogate you on your next shift, if you should run to your room and grab a nice underwear set or if you should just come out in a towel. 

You heard the water stop and felt your heart drop into the pit of your stomach. You began to wonder if this was the best idea if you should get the wine in the cupboard or tell him you were too tired. When he stepped out with your towel wrapped around his waist, nothing else, the inhibitions seemed to melt away and were replaced with nothing but desire. 

“I left hot water for you, don’t worry.” He said, the smile on his face almost felt mocking. He felt the burn of your eyes against him, even watching as the water beads rolled against his soft skin that now smelled of your body wash. “Be quick.”

You realized in the shower that he didn’t leave much hot water, you should’ve known from all the steam in the room and that was leaving his skin. You had time to shave and scrub your body down with a floral scrub and the same body wash he used, but you had to wash your hair with cold water which made it miserable to come out with freezing skin and hair. You wrapped yourself in a towel and blow-dried your hair just enough to warm you up a bit.

Opening the door let in a gust of cold air and caused you to come out shivering immediately folding your arms over your chest. The silence was heavy, and only broken by Joost’s soft laughter. 

“Let me warm you.” He offered, standing up from the couch with the towel loosening around his waist and bringing you into his arms. “Where’s your bedroom?”

You felt yourself blossom in the warmth of his arms, holding his hand you led him anxiously to your room. You were glad you’d left your lamp on and everything neat, he’d probably look at you more favorably and it helped to set the mood. The warm orange light glowed against his lightly defined muscles, his skin was supple and almost malleable in your hand as he hovered above you, letting the towel fall on the floor and taking yours off. 

His fingers were still clad in silver rings, the cold metal made you flinch as his hand ran against your breasts and squeezed down. He kissed you on the lips, long and languid before kissing down your chest and taking a nipple into his mouth. 

You moaned softly under your breath, and through your half-lidded eyes, you watched as he removed his rings and reached over a bit aimlessly to set them on your nightstand. Your mind couldn’t keep up with the fluidity of his movements, unable to register the pleasure from his mouth and now feeling his fingers rub circles around your clit. 

You were so wet for him, Joost felt himself grow weaker in impatience. He felt he’d break, lose himself in desire, and take you all at once instead of the slow burn of foreplay. As his fingers rubbed against your pussy, he felt his hand grow slick, he teased one of his fingers at your entrance and your body reacted strongly, begging him without the need for any words to fuck you. He wanted to be selfish, he wanted to eat your pussy until you begged for him to stop and finish deep inside of you. 

Just finger fucking you was more perfect than he could’ve anticipated. The sound of the room was obscene, the way you two moaned and panted, and how wet you were as his two fingers pumped inside of you, you felt more than relieved you didn’t have the downstairs neighbor to worry about anymore. You cried praises as your head rested in the crook of his neck, biting and kissing. 

He kissed down your chest and left your breast with a string of saliva, his eyes meeting yours as he began to kiss down your stomach until his head rested between your thighs. You couldn’t fathom how someone could touch you so perfectly, how someone’s lips could be so soft and his kiss send electric bolts through your body. He kissed the insides of your legs softly, his touch was almost feather-like and you wanted to scream from the frustration his incessant teasing brought you. 

“Please, Joost.” You finally said in a drawn-out sigh. “Stop teasing.”

You felt yourself grow hot with intensity, a mix of emotions brewing inside of you from the way he laughed in response. He rested his cheek against your thigh, you looked down at his smiling face before he pressed a wet kiss against your clit, and before you could force out another word. You looked at the smug expression, the way his eyes met yours he knew that he had you wrapped around his finger. 

He propped your legs up on his shoulders and you felt all your senses muddle in the overwhelming pleasure that engulfed your body. Your jaw grew slack, murmuring incoherent praises as he ate you out. Your free hand tangled in his hair, being careful not to pull too hard. It was like actual strands of silk, pulled strings of thread that glistened against the soft light this man was nothing less of angelic. 

Yet there he was, face between your thighs and worshipping you. You felt the wetness drip from your thighs, his warm tongue teasing your clit as he continued to pump two of his fingers inside of you. When your legs began to grow weaker, the coil inside of your stomach becoming tighter, and begging for release he withdrew his hand and pushed your thighs apart to maintain his control of you. 

He knew you were close, you realized that you didn’t have to speak much with him. He focused on your clit and sucked down gently, drawing out the most beautiful, pathetic sounds from you as the tension grew unbearable. You had never come so hard, your eyes became wet with tears and the release was never so intense with anyone. Not when you were with past partners, and not when you were alone. It seemed to last for minutes, your entire body washed over with the most incredible feeling, tossing and turning you into bliss. 

Joost didn’t let you have a moment of rest, seeing you in this state, like hot metal in his hands he wanted to strike you when you were at your most vulnerable. He kissed you deeply, his tongue pushing into your mouth he wanted you to taste yourself. You kissed him back with the little strength you could muster up, biting his lip and pushing your tongue into his mouth. You stayed like that for a while, kissing passionately with almost no rhythm, just for the sake of touching each other. 

He pulled away, still keeping his nose pressed against yours. “I have to get my condoms.” He said a bit begrudgingly. 

You didn’t know what was coming over you, as you grabbed his arm and kept him on the bed so he wouldn’t leave. 

“I’m on birth control.” You assured him, desperately wanting to deprive yourself of nothing. You had already anticipated and accepted this would likely be the last time you’d get to fuck him. 

Joost realized how much of a mess he’d made on your bed, from how wet you were from taking his fingers and mouth to his pre cum dripping down his shaft and onto your sheets. He frowned a bit, maybe this was a dirty affair and he was kidding himself. He was so desperate for you he was certain he’d grow embarrassed at his lack of constraint, he wished he could’ve been a less needy lover. 

He pumped himself in his hand, and the wishes he had for more constraint again seemed to be nonsensical and burrowed into his mind. He watched you spread your legs for him, sleepy eyes looking up at him as your chest and cheeks were flushed with a deep blush. He lined himself up with your soaking pussy, pressing the tip inside he felt that he could die tonight and be happy. 

He fucked you softly until he could push himself inside of you completely. You were so tight, so perfect for him he let you wrap your legs around his waist so that he could fuck you slow and deep. He didn’t want to be rough, he loved how you embraced him fully. Your pussy squeezed against him, your legs wrapped around his waist, and your arms held his face against you as you peppered desperate kisses against his face.

Both your skin and his were now tacky with sweat. He fucked you perfectly, his cock nudging against the spot that made you squirm beneath him and numb your lower half with pleasure. You wondered if it was possible he could make you finish this way, from how he hugged you, kissed down your neck, and how he filled you up so well you wouldn’t be surprised. 

He was growing tired, fucking you sloppier with less coordination. He smoothed down your hair away from your face and whispered into your ear, 

“Can you get on top of me, baby?” He asked so sweetly you couldn’t live with yourself if you said no.

He pulled out slowly, taking your place on the bed. The apples of his cheeks were a deep red, his hair a bit disheveled as he made himself comfortable on the mountain of pillows you kept on your bed. 

“You’re so pretty.” He mumbled, his hands rubbing up and down your waist. 

His touch was so tender, the way he held you in place and helped you lower yourself onto him. You winced a bit at the stretch and gave him a weak smile, trying to keep your nerves from wondering if you could take it. 

It hurt so good, that you pressed your hands against his chest and moved up and down on his length. The room filled with the sounds of your pants, the sound of your pussy taking him and the way he groaned your name and warned you he was getting close. 

Joost felt himself lose his composure, it dwindled slowly as he was watching you ride him, your perfect tits in his face and the way your eyebrows knitted together in pleasure. It gave him such a rush knowing that it was because of him. He held you in a place as he bucked his hips up, fucking you from beneath and taking back the control he had relinquished. 

He had sat up, still keeping you on his lap to bring you into another smoldering kiss. He helped you to keep riding him, you were bounding up and down, holding onto his shoulders for support anticipating for him to finish inside of you. His head fell back as he bucked his hips up as much as you could manage, both of your movements grew harder, more desperate, and messy.

“I’m close.” He groaned, one arm hugging around your waist to press your body closer to his. “Oh, fuck baby.” He cried out in drawn-out whisper. 

He wouldn’t admit it, just like you, he’d never finished so intensely. It was perfect, drawn out like honey dripping down a spoon, the sweetness of the feeling and stickiness of both of your arousal against his thighs. He came with a pathetic string of moans, whimpering against your shoulder as he emptied himself inside of you. 

You’d never let a man do that before, but it felt like the first hit of a drug. You were hooked on the feeling. The intimacy was so intense, you felt perfectly intertwined with him and you felt the urge to tell him that you loved him it was so good. You two stayed like that for a minute, holding each other in a gentle embrace as your chests rose and dropped in deep breaths, calming down and weathering the storm of your shared passion.

“Can I sleep here?” He asked, breaking the silence. “Please.”

“Of course.” You answered breathlessly. “I just need another shower.” 

“Can I come with you?” He leaned over to kiss your cheek. “I’m tired, I promise.”

-

this is a cross post from my ao3 :) send in requests for one shots if you’d like

[oreolemur]

Okey so here's my request...

reader working at a strip club.... She is poor And needs financial so she is working as a stripper....So one day the gojo goes to the club and ask to get a private dance by reader So reader starts doing her job like twerking on him..and gojo gets hard...he isn't allowed to touch her cause it's the rules...soo after the 5minutes of doing her job on him he asks for her number but she declines...and like her forces her for her number and she calls security..... Gojo knows he's strong enough to kill those security then and there but he didn't and went out... she continued doing her job...closing time she went out and started walking later she saw a black car and ignored..gojo exited the car and called her she saw him and ran..he chased her and got her..and took her in and thts when the things happens (it's a Noncon request 💕)

Keep sending more requests loves! ❤

“I’m so sick of this job”, you sighed, staring at yourself in the mirror. You applied makeup to your face as you got ready to start another day of work. “At least my fit today is cute”. You were wearing a short blue skirt that exposed your ass cheeks and a see through crop top that showed cleavage. You admired yourself some more, before being rudely interrupted by your boss. “Y/n! Get your ass out here and start making these customers happy”, the man yelled. You rolled your eyes, gathering your stuff to head to the preparation room. “I really need a new job”, you muttered. Once inside, you were happily greeted by your coworkers. They all had on similar clothing as you. “I guess blue is today’s theme”, you said to your friend. 

She looked at you and nodded. “Yeah apparently the heir of the Gojo clan is coming today”, the woman mentioned. You were confused. “Who exactly?”, you questioned. She slightly hit your arm. “You don’t know Satoru? He comes in often carrying a lot of cash”, she said. “His birthday is today so we all have to wear blue to celebrate”. Raising your eyebrow at her, you still didn’t know who she was talking about. “Yeah…he’s not ringing a bell”. As the two of you chatted a while longer, you heard your name being called on stage. “Shit! How do I look?”, you asked your friend. “Like a stripper”, she laughed. You giggled at her comment, “Duh bitch, but seriously…how do I look?”. She tucked your hair behind your ears. “You look like someone who’s gonna get out of here soon. Make that money, save it, and never come back”, she said. You gave her a kiss on the cheek, proceeding to head out.

❤~On Stage~❤

It was mostly a crowd full of men, some women here and there, but mostly males were present. They all showered you with money as you worked your hips, dancing around that long silver pole you hated so much. The light from the ceiling beamed on you, revealing everything you were doing. “Isn’t she lovely?”, the man on the speaker said. Your body moved with ease as you slid down the pole, spreading your legs. The people went wild as they saw your black thong. You then got on the floor, crawling to the customers in front. You made eye contact with some of them as they put money in your skirt. “You deserve my whole savings”, one of the men said. You continued performing, until your time was up. “All right ladies and gentlemen, get ready to meet our next beauty”.

Heading off the stage, you were pulled to the side by a bouncer. “You have a private dance to attend to”, he said, guiding you to the private area of the club. “Do I have to?’, you pouted. The bouncer ignored you as he opened the door to one of the rooms. “If he tries anything you let me know”. With that he closed the door in your face. You stood there, sighing, facing your back towards your lucky customer. “Don’t look so sad”, he said. You turned around, seeing a tall white haired male with blue eyes. “Come over here”, he gestured. You put on a fake smile, approaching him. “Dance for me”, he demanded. Doing exactly what you do on stage, you begin to dance your hips, hands roaming all over your body. 

“So…what’s your name?”, you asked, trying to make small talk. “Satoru…Satoru Gojo”, he smiled. Your eyes lit up in shock. “This is who she was talking about”, you thought. The man kept his eyes on you, observing the way you moved. “You have a nice body”, Satoru complimented. He let you dance in front of him some more, before patting his lap. “Come here”, he whispered. You walked over, sitting on him. “Such a good girl”, he said, resting his arms behind his head. He spread his legs, making sure you were lap dancing directly over his cock. “Am I doing ok?”, you asked, twerking on him. Satoru nodded, “More than ok”, he smirked. You continued to dance, feeling him slightly move his hips upwards as he got hard. “Can you stop that?”you asked, getting annoyed.

The man chuckled, “Fine…but can I have your number? I would be glad to have a beautiful lady like you as a gift”. You stopped moving, looking back at him. “Sorry, hun”, you said. “I’m not interested”. You started to dance again, wishing that the time he had left would be over. “Come on, darling”, Satoru grinned. “Don’t you want to get to know me? I’m a very interesting guy”. You rolled your eyes, “Not interested”. He chuckled again, “But why not? I can give you everything you ever wanted. Money…sex…you name it”. Satoru leaned forward, whispering into your ear. “Be a good girl and accept my offer”. Feeling his hand touch your waist, you yelled for the bouncer, getting up quickly. “Hey! Get him out of here”. The large man came in, ordering Gojo to get out. “Times up, man”, he said.

Satoru stayed seated. “No fair, I still have time left”. The bouncer got close to him. “Get out or I’ll throw you out myself”, he threatened. The white haired male looked at him, finding the man funny. “Do you really want to go there?”, he asked, standing up. The two men glared at each other. You watched from the doorway, getting nervous. “Just leave”, you told him. Satoru looked over at you, “Ok, princess”, he said, walking to the door. Before he left out, he stopped, turning his focus on you. “I’ll see you soon”. You felt it in your gut that he wasn’t lying. “What did he mean by that?”, you wondered. The bouncer tried to reassure you. “Don’t worry, y/n. I’ll make sure that bastard doesn’t try anything”. The man walked with you out of the room. “I can’t believe that just happened. What a creep”, you said to yourself. 

❤~Time Skip~❤

You spent the rest of your shift, hanging out with your coworkers as you tried to forget what occurred between you and Gojo. “I heard you got to dance on Satoru”, your friend said. “How was it? Did he leave you a tip? He usually does”. You told her what happened. “For real?”, she said. “That does sound creepy, but don’t take it to heart. He’s usually a jokester”. You didn’t like how unserious she was. “Be serious! What if he kidnaps me or something? You know how desperate these customers can get”, you said. She shrugged her shoulders, telling you that Satoru has a different vibe. “He’s not like that…and besides if he does…you’ll be rich”, she joked. You laughed it off with her, trying to get over it. “All right girls time to go home”, your boss said, closing up the club. The bouncers kicked out any remaining customers, most of whom were bummed out drunk. “About time”, you yawned, stretching. 

You went backstage to change and gather your stuff. “What a day”. Waving goodbye to your coworkers, you left out the back. The night was cold. All you had on were uggs, a crop top hoodie, and leggings. “Why is it so fucking cold?”, you shivered. “I should’ve brought a heavy jacket”. You walked home, hating the fact that you didn’t have a car. “I really need to get a car”. 10 minutes into your walk, you stopped at a convenience store for snacks. “Damn, I’m starving”, You sat at a nearby bus stop, chomping down a bag of chips and some cookies. “What has my life come to?”, you thought. You reflected on life, thinking about your financial situation. Stripping made a decent amount of money, but it wasn’t enough to support everything you needed. “I really need a new job”, you whined. After you were done stuffing your face, you got up, proceeding to head home again.

As you walked past a nearby church, you knew the alley you hated was coming up. It was dark and barely had any lights. You knew another way to go, but this way was quicker. You pulled out your phone, turning on the flashlight. A bunch of cats scattered around as they saw you. Trash was littered everywhere and a few cars passed you by. Just as you were about to turn a corner, a black car pulled up next to you, rolling the windows down. “It’s nice to see you again, princess”. You looked to the side, noticing it was Satoru. “Leave me alone”, you said, walking faster. He drove slowly, following you. “It’s cold out here. Why don’t you get in so I can give you a ride?”, he suggested. You ignored him.

The man sighed, feeling himself getting irritated. “Come on, baby. Don’t be like that. I’m trying to do you a favor”. You kept ignoring him, walking even faster. You were so distracted by him bugging you that you didn’t notice yourself turning the wrong corner. “Fuck! A dead end”, you said. Satoru smiled, taking this opportunity to block you with his car. You turned around to try to walk the other way, but you saw his trap. “What the fuck?”, your heart started to beat fast as fear filled you. “Well, well, well”, the man said, getting out of the car. You backed away, seeing him walk close to you. “Get the hell away from me”, you said. Gojo shook his head. “No can do, princess”. He pulled a white cloth out of his pocket. 

“Get in the car”, he demanded. His usual smug look was gone. You could tell he was being serious. “N-no”, you said. Satoru sighed. “If you want me to be rough with you then just tell me”. He was now getting closer and closer. “This is your last chance”, he warned. “Get. In. The. Fucking. Car”. Seeing an opening, you made the brave decision to run past him. But before you could even make it, he put you in a headlock, smothering you with the cloth. “Just relax”, he said, feeling you struggle. You tried to fight back, kicking him in his leg. “You’re so cute”, he chuckled. Within minutes, you passed out. “Sleep peacefully, princess”. He picked you up, placing you in the trunk of his car. “We’re gonna have so much fun together”.

❤~An Hour Later~❤

You began to wake up. “Ow”, you groaned. Your head was throbbing from the drug Gojo used to knock you out. You blinked a couple of times, scanning the room he put you in. “Looks like my pretty princess is awake”. You noticed Satoru standing in front of a dresser. He had nothing but a blue silk robe on. “Did you sleep well?”, he asked, smiling. “Why am I here?”, you questioned. “Take me home now!”. He didn’t like your tone. “You’re so feisty, y/n”, he chuckled. You were shocked. “How do you know my name?”. The man walked over to the bed you were sitting on. He sat down, reaching for your face. “D-don’t touch me”, you slapped his hand away. Satoru stared at you with a blank expression, tilting his head. “You know…”, he paused. “Your defiance is really starting to piss me off”. 

You scoffed at him. “You think you’re starting to get pissed off? Fuck-”, before you could finish what you were about to say. Gojo slapped you. Your back hit the mattress as you laid there crying. “Don’t test me”, he said. The man got up from the bed, taking off his robe. “Get undressed”, he ordered. You continued to lay there, holding your face. “Now y/n!” Satoru raised his voice. You leaned up, taking off everything but your bra and panties. “Take those off too”, he said. You shook your head, “C-can I please keep these on?”, you asked, voice breaking. “No”, he said simply. The two of you stared at each other in silence. At this moment…you started to realize how serious the situation was. You took off the remaining clothing, making him smile. 

“Good girl”, he said. Gojo walked up to you, grabbing your face. “Don’t cry”, he cooed, seeing the mascara run down your cheeks. He gently laid you down, getting on top of you. “All you have to do is behave and I won’t hurt you”. He kissed your lips, slipping his tongue in your mouth. His hand roamed your body, reaching for your pussy. “Hmm?”, he moaned, pulling away from the kiss. “You’re wet already?”, he smiled. “Did me hitting you turn you on?”.  He slid his fingers in you, thrusting deep into your cunt. You gasped, feeling his long digits explore inside you. Satoru chuckled, “I can make you feel so good”.’

He curled his fingers, hitting your g-spot. “N-no”, you moaned, reaching for his arm. The man grabbed both of your arms, pinning your wrists above your head. “Don’t do that, princess”, he kissed your neck, leaving wet sloppy trails. You blushed, slightly moaning. You could hear him laugh in between each kiss. “You smell so good”, he licked your skin, before roughly biting it. “Ow”, you whimpered. He left a red mark on your flesh, kissing the bruise. His fingers fucked you faster, feeling you clench around him. “That’s it, doll. Cum for me”. Your moans began to get louder and more high pitched. “Fuck”, you whined. Within seconds you came, making Satoru proud. He pulled his fingers out, sticking them in his mouth. “Mmm”, he grinned. 

You breathed heavily, trying to recover from your intense orgasm. “Wasn’t that fun?”, he teased. His hand wrapped around his cock, slowly stroking it. You looked down at it, seeing precum leak from his pink tip. He slapped his dick against your cunt, causing you to twitch. “God, you’re so wet”, he grunted. Without warning, he shoved himself in you. Your walls stretched open. You cried out in pain, begging him to pull out. “P-please pull out. It hurts”. Satoru caressed your face, wiping away a tear that fell from your eye. He sadistically humped you hard, making you whimper even more. “Please”, you squealed. He ignored your begging, continuing to fuck you. The man was rough as he slammed himself into you. “You take me so well”, he groaned. 

The more you cried, the sooner your voice began to die down. Gojo had you flipped on your stomach, his hand restraining your arms behind your back. You sobbed quietly into his pillow, waiting for him to be done with you. The man was fucking you harder now, making your ass clap as his pelvis kept hitting it. He moaned louder, feeling his orgasm arriving. “Fuck…you’re…s-so tight”, he grunted. With a few more thrusts, he spilled his seed into you, filling you up. “Damn”, he huffed. He pulled out of you, watching cum leak down onto his blanket. “You were so good for me, princess”, he said, wiping the sweat from his forehead. 

You laid flat, feeling disgusted. “Can I go home now?”, you asked. He laid beside you, staring into your eyes. “Why do you want to go back?”, he questioned. “You should stay here with me. Like I said sweetface… I can give you anything you want”. He leaned into your face, kissing your lips. “You really want to go back to being a broke stripper?”. You knew he was right. You hated your job and the idea of being with someone with status and money could help you live a better life. “So what do you say?” Satoru asked. You looked at him and nodded. “Ok… I’ll stay with you”.

[sukunastoy]

The “Businessman”

Pairings: Fem!Reader x Sukuna

Cw/Tw: Violence, mentions of murder, torture, none of this is towards reader though.

WC: 1221

Note: I wrote something similar to this a long time ago, but I can’t find it on here, so I’m redoing it with more detail. 🫶 I might make this into a series at some point.

~Your CEO husband doesn’t like it when someone makes you cry. They’ll never be a problem for you or anyone else ever again.~

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated!! ✨

You're having a shitty day work, your boss being a complete asshole as usual. It's like he deliberately called you out in front of everyone else for the smallest of errors. Regrettably, you end up leaving early so you can go home and decompress. In other words, take a hot bath and cry. You didn't tell your husband, and you just wanted to sleep and not disturb him while he was at work, managing his own company. You didn't have to work, but you didn't like the idea of being just a stay at home wife with nothing to do. You liked a bit of a challenge, but this job was becoming too much of a stress factor in your life. When your boss wasn't being a complete dick, the work was nice, and you truly enjoyed the company of your coworkers. Talking gossip and having friends to go out on lunch dates with were the main perks of this job. Everyone was starting to get fed up with the boss though, and you often thought about quitting, since you didn't need this job, but you didn't want to give up your individuality.

As you pulled into your driveway, you sighed heavily into the steering wheel. It was barely after 10 am. Much too early to be home, but today was just too much to bear. Sulking inside, you kicked off your shoes and shed most of your clothing on the way to your lavish bathroom. You didn't need to tell Sukuna, your petty problems aren't something you wanted to burden him with.

But of course, your husband has tracking on your phone. And while he's in the middle of a meeting, letting his other associates talk about company improvements, his phone vibrates with your change of location. Glancing to the clock, he realizes, it's too early for you to be home. Not that he cares, you're free to do as you wish, but it was abnormal for his wife to be home so early on a work day. He isn't questioned as he stands and leaves the meeting, others knowing his personal affairs aren't to be pried into. This part of his job can wait. He has his driver make a few stops on the way home before he arrives, and he finds you curled into the large bed beneath the blankets. Feeling the mattress sink in next to you, your eyes flutter open to the gorgeous face looking down to you. Sukuna's warm hand is cupping your cheek gently, his thumb rubbing over the small dried tear streak from your eye. His gaze focused on it momentarily before lifting his eyes to yours.

"Hey, princess." he chuckles and kisses your forehead before placing something soft and velvety against your lips. The familiar scent of a rose filled your senses and you smiled weakly to him.

"Is it already after 5..?" You ask through a small yawn, assuming it was the end of his work day. "Not even close." He chuckles, his large hand rubbing across your hip, caressing you softly.

"Saw you went home. Came to check on my darling."

Ah, that's right. You sometimes forgot your husband knew your every move. Others thought it was severely controlling and an invasion to your privacy, but you honestly didn't care. He had his possessive traits, but you knew he'd never interfere into something innocent unless it was to benefit you. Like now. It was little moments like this you enjoyed. You didn't want to bother him, and he could see your location was heading towards home. So, not like you were straying away to a place he didn't know. But, he chose to come on his own. And the rose and small basket of your favorite treats he had got on the way home made it even more endearing.

"Just having a rough day?" His deep voice spoke against your skin as you now cuddled with him, his warm lips gracing your neck in kisses.

"Yeah, my boss can be such an asshole. I swear, he likes to insult everyone in front of a crowd for no reason. Its so embarrassing and I just wasn't in the mood today for his antics."

"Want me to kill him for you?" His serious sounding response made you laugh while shoving his arm playfully. "Ha, I wish."

Oh sweet innocent thing...your husband would do anything for you. With the money and power he possesses, a simple task as that would be nothing. You may have joked and laughed about a crazy fantasy that many wished upon their shitty bosses, but in your case, it would be taken care of.

This wasn't the first time Sukuna heard you complain about your boss, nor the first time you came home early and had been obviously crying. Sukuna was the endearing CEO husband who you loved and trusted with all your heart. At least, to you he was. To others, he was a terrifying sight, especially if anyone crossed him. Or you.

~~~~~~~~

Sukuna hummed in delight while slipping on a pair of black latex gloves, a slight twitch in his lips, pulling them to a grin across his face.

"If you keep trying to break out of those cuffs, I'm going to bash in your kneecaps." He said nonchalantly to his victim in the chair before him.

"You're fucking crazy! Just let me go man! I didn't do anything to you!"

Sukuna only hummed louder to himself to drown out the pathetic cries of desperation. Again, his victim wrestled with the cuffs, groaning and cussing while trying to slip his hands out of them.

Picking up the sledge hammer that was leaning against his prep table, Sukuna twisted it in his hands briefly, looking at the blunt end of the tool with delight. "Left, or right?" He simply asked, finally looking to the restrained man.

"You're gonna rot in jail for this shit!"

"Left it is."

Taking a step forward, Sukuna swung the sledge hammer swiftly into the mans left knee, and the sickening crunch of bones echoed through the concrete room. It only took one hit to completely destroy the man's knee, and Sukuna laughed in unison with the gargled screams from his victim. The man might eventually pass out from pain, but he'd wake him up again. This wasn't going to be quick and easy. He had too many tools laid out to have his fun for the next several hours. Pulling teeth and prying off fingernails were some of his favorite forms of slow torture.

~~~~~~~~~

Going into work the next day, the news of your boss quitting abruptly with no notice was shocking. You thanked luck, just happy he was finally out of here, and someone more respectable took his place. Perhaps he finally got enough complaints against him. Sukuna would rejoice in the lucky news with you later in the day after he made you an amazing dinner. And when he took you to bed, he made love so passionately to you, his large hands so gentle and tender to your body. You were clueless to his true nature, and he preferred it that way. He took pride in knowing the remains of your old boss were never going to be found. No one was allowed to make his darling cry.

[marksbear2]

Hi, i failed my finals :) I would like a mind distraction. I would like to request a Bucky Barnes X top male reader. But! Bucky likes to dress up :p so maybe reader comes home early and catches Bucky dressed in something girly and that leads to 🔥💥🔥💥🔥💥 bed breaking voice cracking steamy spice. And then cuddles afterwards. Pretty please 🛐🛐🛐

BUCKY BARNES X TOP MALE READER

Awww you failed your finals? Now I have to write this for I can cheer you up, Bucky is gonna wear that dress we were talking ang other day.

⚠️Warnings- Bucky in a dress, smutt with plot, making out, handjobs, rough, fast, top reader, bed shaking, loud, moan, and etc⚠️

Y/n was sitting down in the break room of his job on his phone listening to one of his coworkers talk about their family life. Scrolling through his phone and listening to his friend go on and on about his family Y/n didn’t seem annoyed or bothered.

“So me and Cherry has this huge fight she was telling me how we’re getting distant and how I’m always busy with work.” The coworker says catching Y/n’s attention. Y/n thought to himself.

“I’ve been busy with work to…way too tired to do anything with Buck.” Y/n thought to himself immediately comparing his coworker’s problem to his own relationship.

“How I haven’t been showing her any affection and all that stupid crap.” The coworker said as he shrugged and ate his lunch. “Why every partner gotta be clingy you know.” Which each word his coworker spoke Y/n realized that he was doing the exact same thing as his coworker. 

“Ah shit, uhm something just came up at home I gotta go. Clock out for me will ya, I’ll return the favor next time.” Y/n said gesturing to his phone as if he just got a emergency text, before his coworker could respond Y/n pat his back and got his things and left.

Y/n left the building and went to his car to drive home. Y/n unlocked the door to his car and got inside and turned the car on. “Fuck…how could I be so stupid.” Y/n mumbles softly to himself lightly hitting the steering wheel in realization before driving out the parking lot and to his home. He many ideas swarmed around in his head thinking about all sorts of ways he could make things up.

Deciding Y/n stopped by a flower shop to buy a beautiful bouquet then after he bought some chocolates from a nearby by store. 

As soon as Y/n got to the apartment and tried to be as quiet as he could being entering the house. He would usually announce himself that he’s home. But he really wanted to surprise him. So he quietly walked to the bedroom and as quiet he could opened the door and peaked his head inside.

“Hey Bucky, I’m home I got you something.—“ Y/n cuts himself off as he looked at his boyfriend. 

Bucky stood in the middle of the room in front of the mirror wearing a beautiful light blue sundress. Bucky’s face was flushed full with embarrassment and shock as he turned his head to face Y/n’s own shock face.

“It— uhm.— let me explain.” Bucky stuttered over his words.

Y/n didn’t respond back just silently looking over the dress. With more awkward silence Y/n finally decided to speak. “When did you get this?” Y/n mumbled out as he put the flowers and chocolate to the side. He walked over to Bucky and began touching the ends of the sun dress. Bucky was to embarrassed to say anything. 

Y/n himself was speechless as well. He didn’t feel mad or upset, just confused. And honestly he felt attracted. Y/n never imagined Bucky in a dress, but right now it’s like he fell in love with him all over again.

“I’m gonna take this off—“ Bucky was cut off by Y/n own words. “No. Keep it on…you look good. 

“You think so? I- I thought you didn’t like girly things.” Bucky’s face was getting more red as Y/n pulled the hem of the dress up touching Bucky’s thighs and just having a good feel of bucky’s upper legs before trailing up.

“Yeah- just not on myself. So when did all of this start? You look so good in this dress doll.” Y/n whispered as he began to move closer and pressing his body against Bucky’s own and kissing his cheek and jaw.

“Just a few months ago…I like myself in clothes like this. I’ve been hiding the dresses and stuff I’m the closet.” Bucky confessed as he slowly and softly gasped as he felt Y/n’s hands run over his body. 

Y/n pulled Bucky closer and lay him down on the bed. Y/n got on top him and pulled the hem fully up and exposing Bucky’s bare cock. Y/n spat into his hand and wrapped his hand around Bucky’s soft cock stroking it slowly to get Bucky hard. Y/n leaned up and began to kiss Bucky slowly but passionately. Bucky whispered into the slow but deep kisses. 

Bucky’s cock grew harder from the kisses and Y/n’s hand stroking him. Bucky used his free hand to tug on Y/n’s belt, showing Y/n that he wants him to take it off.

Y/n let go of Bucky’s dick and used his hands to take his belt off and threw it to the side before pulling his pants and boxers low but not taking them fully off just enough for his cock to spring out.

Bucky wrapped his hand around Y/n’s cock jerking it off the same pace Y/n was jerking him off in. Y/n leaned in and kissed Bucky back. Y/n went back to jerking off his boyfriend now fully hard cock.

Both men were making out and jerking off each other off. It was a really hot and passionate scene. Y/n’s tongue entered Bucky’s mouth.

After a while Y/n broke the kiss and pulled away reaching to the night stand and getting a bottle of lube out and squeezing some into his fingers and rubbed them in.

“Open your legs for me, doll.” Y/n said and immediately Bucky opened his legs. Y/n leaned back to Bucky and moved one finger into his hole. Y/n was looking down watching his own movements. 

He moved and curled his finger inside of Bucky stretching him out. Bucky moaned and whimpered from Y/n’s finger thrusting in and out of him. Bucky’s cock began to leak precum and Y/n laughed softly. “Your already close from handjob and fingering.” Y/n sucked onto his teeth making a “Tch Tch” noise in a teasing tone. 

Y/n moved another finger inside and really began fucking him with his fingers. 

He curled his fingers into Bucky’s prostate as he used his free hand to grab and stroke his boyfriend’s already wet and trembling cock.  

Bucky was letting out deep moans and softly whining as he moved his hips around. Y/n curled his fingers deeper into Bucky’s prostate. Y/n began to make a scissoring motion. Bucky moaned and breathed heavy as he wrapped his arms around Y/n’s shoulders holding him tightly.

Y/n let go of Bucky’s cock and pulled his fingers out and grabbed the bottle of lube and squeezed some onto his cock and rubbed it so it’s wet. Y/n squeezed a bit more onto Bucky’s hole before moving his cock against the entrance of Bucky’s hole.

Y/n slowly moved his cock inside holding Bucky by his thighs keeping his legs apart and in the air.

Slowly Y/n rocked his hips back and forth moving the tip in and out. Y/n moved his cock deeper and pulled out before moving back halfway. Y/n thrusted in and out in a rhythm before thrusting his cock fully inside Bucky.

“Gahh!~ ngh… fu-fuck Y/n!~” Bucky immediately moaned out with his legs tensing. 

Y/n rocked himself back and forth thrusting in and out of him. Bucky moaned and whined as Y/n held his legs higher thrusting as deep as he could.

Bucky’s cock was hidden on the dress so the hard cock had a tent in the dress. Y/n’s chest was pressed into Bucky’s own. 

Soon enough Bucky’s moans went from quiet to loud and pleasure real quick. Bucky moaned loudly as Y/n slowly fucked him. Suddenly Y/n’s slow pace quickly turned fast and rough. Y/n drilled his cock deep inside Bucky’s hole abusing it. 

Bucky’s hands flared around searching for anything that he could hold onto. His hands found the sheets below them a gripped onto them for support. Y/n’s cock rammed in and out of Bucky’s hole using him as if he was a toy. 

After a while Y/n hoist Bucky from his back and pulled him into his lap fucking him messily. Thrust after thrust Y/n felt the knot in his stomach tighten. Y/n gripped onto Bucky’s hips as Bucky wrapped his arms around Y/n's shoulders holding onto him tightening  and moaning nonsense into his ear. 

"Y-Y/n! Y/n!~ I'm i'm..." Bucky couldn't even finish his sentence as he came hard all over himself and his own dress. It wasn't the first time the man had an orgasm, but every time he does it feels new to him. The bed was squeaking and head board hitting against the wall as Y/n thrust in and out faster and deeper.  

Bucky rocks his hips back and forth trying to be as gentle as he can. Y/n moves his face to the crook of Bucky’s neck kissing it softly. "Fuck. F-fuck." Bucky groans out as Bucky feels his cock twitch inside him. 

Y/n begins to pick up his pace, but not too fast or rough. Y/n's thrust was at a perfect speed for him to reach his peak. 

"Bucky~ ohh~ fuck Bucky. I'm close." Y/n says with a moan moving his hands onto either sides of the bed holding onto the sheets tightly as he fucks deep, but gentle inside Bucky. 

"Buck!~ fuck baby! I'm about to cum!" Y/n warns feeling Bucky scratching and holding onto his back. Bucky could feel his own cock about to cum as well. With a few more thrust Y/n cums deep inside Bucky burying his seed deep inside him. Bucky moaned loud as he scratched Y/n’s back.

The two began to breathe heavy Y/n kissed Bucky’s cheek whispering praises in his ear. 

Y/n pulled himself out and watched the cum leak out of Bucky’s hole and down his thighs. Y/n cradled Bucky in his lap kissing him softly, peppering kisses all over his face while picking him up in his arms before laying him down on the bed. Bucky was tired and laid down onto the bed. Y/n went to the bathroom and picked a towel before coming back and wiping Bucky clean.

As he cleaned him Y/n was gentle and telling praises and good sweet things. Bucky was laughing softly as his face was flushed. 

“You did so good…I love you so much Buck.” Y/n praised kissing him causing Bucky to giggle.

“I love you too.” Bucky and Y/n kissed back and forth swapping and whispering praises to one another while cuddling.

THE END

[tropes-and-tales]

You Talk Too Much

(From the "Shut Up" kiss starter prompts, found here)

CW:  Richie being Richie, swearing.

Word Count:  1740

AN:  Requested by @winchestershiresauce

You don’t smoke, but it doesn’t stop you from escaping out the back door of The Beef near the end of shift to catch your breath and relax.  There’s only a few lingering customers out front, and  you are exhausted and frazzled.

It’s quiet out back.  You love your job—really, you do—but it can be a lot.  A lot.  It’s loud and hectic and a million things happen at once.  Sometimes the chaos of the day is just limited to the customers flowing through for classic Chicago fare.  Sometimes the chaos is more, well, chaotic:  a burst pipe, a failed health inspection, an impromptu Ball-Breaker tournament to help breakeven for the week.

You love your job.  You love The Beef, and you love your coworkers, but sometimes you need quiet.

The neighborhood mellows out at night, at least in the little nook behind the restaurant.  The noise of the city—the traffic, the sirens, the wind off the river and lake—falls away to a murmur, background noise that builds and then breaks over you in gentle waves.  You sit on an overturned milk crate and pull your knees up, wrap your arms around your knees.  You lean back against the brick wall and shut your eyes.  You breathe deep, steadying breaths and feel your heartbeat calm.  Hours and hours of chaos, and now you can throttle down a bit.

It lasts all of a minute.

You hear the door squeal open on its hinges, then hear it slam shut a moment later.  You don’t bother to open your eyes; you can guess who it is.

A beat later, someone settles onto another milk crate beside you with a grunt.  You hear the ritual sounds of a veteran smoker:  the shaking of a soft pack, the quiet snick of the lighter, the first harsh inhale, the pleased sigh as the nicotine hits the bloodstream.

Richie.  The Beef’s resident asshole.  The utter bane of your existence when you started months ago.  He had bullied you relentlessly, a hazing that extended beyond gentle workplace pranking.  Richie, you came to find out, hates change, and you came into his life in the midst of immense change.

The loss of his best friend who was more like a brother.

The loss of his family when his wife divorced him.

The loss of his restaurant, his beloved dysfunctional sandwich shop as Carmy slowly started to change the system.

But as the months passed, Richie softened towards you.  You proved too stubborn to give in to his bullying, and at some point, you became part of the landscape of The Beef.  You became part of the family, and Richie eased off the bullying. 

His teasing turned sweeter, almost:  he calls you sweetheart now, sometimes babe, and when he needs to get past you in the tight quarters of the restaurant, he lays a light hand on your shoulder or your back as he squeezes past you.

Then came the stories.  When it’s quiet, when the doors aren’t open yet and you’re just prepping for the day, Richie regales you with stories.  So many stories.  Stories about his time at West Lawrence Avenue.  Stories about tearing up the town with Mikey.  Stories about the Goddess of Agriculture and Bill Murray.  Richie always leans in close and tells you these stories, often repeating tales you’ve already heard, but just as you never confronted him about the bullying, you never confront him about his repetitious storytelling.

Richie, you guess, is a complicated man.  A man with a lot of feelings who perhaps doesn’t know how to express them.  From the caustic bully sneering at you about disrupting the “delicate ecosystem” of The Beef… to the smiling charmer as he regales you with his Bill Murray story.

You open your eyes enough to squint and confirm that it’s Richie sitting beside you, as if the scent of his cologne isn’t confirmation enough.  But it’s him.  Visual confirmation obtained.  You take in his lanky form neatly folded to fit on the milk crate, one leg kicked out straight and the other folded up near his chest.  His profile illuminated by the flickering light near the dumpsters. 

The man isn’t entirely unappealing.  Once you get past the crusty layers of asshole behavior, the sarcasm and inferiority complex and refusal to feel his feelings, he’s actually a good man.  Loyal to a fault.  Loving father.  The sort of man to assemble his own family of friends and misfits, who then defends that family to the death.

But too chatty sometimes.  Like now.

Because after the first deep drag of his cigarette, he starts talking.  “I ever tell you about the time me and Mikey were at Ceres?”

You bite the inside of your mouth to stop from smiling.  “Yeah, you did.”

“Place was packed with Blackhawk fans—”

“Because Denis Savard just got inducted into the hockey hall of fame,” you fill in for him.

“Chelios was there,” he continues, like he hasn’t even heard you.  “I mean, the place was fucking packed—”

On he goes.  On and on and on.  The quiet lull of the city noise falls away and all you can focus on is Richie’s voice, the cigarette husky quality of it, and you like his voice, you love his stories because he loves telling them, but you just want quiet right now.

“Richie—”

“And I feel this tap on my shoulder—”

“Rich—”

“And it’s Bill fucking Murray!  And he’s like—”

“Richie, c’mon—”

“He’s like, ‘what are you doing?’  And I tell him, I say—”

You don’t know why you snap.  The man literally made your life a living hell when you started at the restaurant, but you never once snapped.  Never fought back, only shrugged and let the insults roll of your back.  You don’t know why you snap now, and you don’t know quite why you snap the way you do.

Because you don’t yell at him or smack him.  Richie goes on and on with his story, his face lit up at the happy memory he shared with Mikey, and he’s gesturing with his hands, his half-burnt cigarette forgotten as he talks and glances at you to see if you’re listening, if you’re impressed with his story, and maybe that’s what makes you snap.  Maybe you have a sudden revelation, like a lightning bolt out of the sky.

Maybe Richie keeps telling you these stories because he wants to impress you.  Maybe his close-talking, his mild pet names for you, his light touches as he walks past you…maybe you understand it all in a split second.  Maybe it took a mild Chicago night, a quiet moment out back broken by this man who glances at you shyly to see how his story is landing.

So you snap.  You reach out one hand and gather a fistful of his navy blue t-shirt, and you haul him halfway to you.  You meet him the rest of the way, and the man is still talking when you kiss him.  It happens that fast.

Which makes the kiss awkward for a split second.  You’ve caught him unawares, mid-sentence, and your mouth stills his words.  He freezes for the split second it takes him to catch up to what’s happening, but then he kisses you back.  He tastes like cigarettes, and beneath that you can taste vanilla, and you smile because you can guess that he’d been sneaking into Marcus’s area and helping himself to the cakes Marcus had been working on all day.

But it’s quiet again.  You’ve stoppered Richie’s words, and the earlier calm would fall over you if your heart wasn’t hammering in your chest at what you’ve done.

It’s Richie who breaks the kiss.  After a long beat of silence, a long moment of your mouth on his, the shyest bit of deepening the kiss—opening your mouth against his, breathing him in, but not any further than that.  He breaks the kiss but doesn’t move very far from you, and when you look at him, you can see his bright blue eyes staring at you.

“What, uh…”  He clears his throat in that embarrassed way he has.  “What was that for?”

“You talk too much,” you tell him.

“Thought you liked my stories.”

“I do.  Ninety percent of the time, I love your stories.”

“And the other ten percent?”

“I just wanted a bit of quiet.  It was a long day.”

You release your grip on his shirt, and you see where you’ve stretched the fabric.  You try to smooth it out, run your hand over his upper chest where you grabbed him, and the gesture makes him huff out a heavy breath.  The realization of what you’ve done washes over you, and suddenly you feel horrified.  It would have been less embarrassing to have snapped at him all those months ago, slapped him or yelled in his face.  Instead, you kissed him, and now he’s staring at you with those blue eyes…

“Sorry,” you mutter.  “I shouldn’t have—”

He’s gentler when he stills your words with his mouth.  He doesn’t haul you to him by your shirt; instead, he wraps a gentle hand around the back of your neck and steadies you as he leans in.  As he kisses you.  His lips are soft against yours—it’s the softest kiss you’ve ever received in your life, and from someone like Richie Jerimovich who stumbles through his own life like a bull in a china shop.  Who knew he could be so careful? 

You break the second kiss, and you try to find some words—to finish your apology to him, to say something cool or funny to break the spell of the moment—but Richie hushes you.  He doesn’t let you get any more words out, and he pulls you closer to him.  He wraps an arm around your shoulders and pulls you against him, and then you feel him press a kiss against the top of your head as he tucks you against him.

“Don’t say anything,” he tells you in his low voice.  “Let’s just have a bit of quiet, then.”

The two of you sit in silence, letting the sounds of the city fill in the quiet between you.  Except for your own heart, hammering in your ears.  And except for Richie’s heart, beating right under your ear in the same, excited cadence.

[fuck-customers]

I have been following you guys for awhile and have had so many fuck customers moments but last week I had the one that takes the cake because I thought I was about to die. I figured it was worth submitting.

For some backstory, I'm a graphic designer at a signs & awards shop. We do A LOT of different stuff for A LOT of different people/companies. (Including vehicle wraps, this is important for later.) I had been working with a set of customers (3 guys, also important) with a design for a while and they were being difficult. Nitpicking everything, wanting me to use copyrighted images, not understanding that I am not a magician and cant just poof exactly what they want into existence. I need TIME to do things and they aren't my only customers. They also don't have emails so all proofs were done by them coming into the shop.

So last Thursday I woke up with a terrible sore throat after going to bed feeling like garbage the night before. I'm super prone to strep throats so I scheduled an appointment at 8:30 am to get a test done. I could have scheduled earlier but I knew the customers were coming by at 8:00 am to see the designs and I wanted to be there.

I clock in at 7:45 am and have everything ready for them. By 8:20 am they have still not shown up and I can't wait any longer to head to my appointment. Thankfully I tested negative and when I got back to work by boss told me they were in at 9:30 and wanted to talk to me about the design and would come back by at 3:00 pm. I said cool and went about my day.

At 2:00 pm I get a call from my husband saying he was injured at work. He is a PE teacher at a school for kids with behavior issues so it's not unusual that he has an injury however this was a head injury and the on site nurse is going to take a look and make sure it doesn't need stitches and stops bleeding. Cause you know head wounds.

At 3:15 pm, my guys still haven't shown up. My husband is cleared as not needing anything immediately but is calling the company's workman's comp to get stuff sorted. He can't drive so he has a coworker drop him off at my job. He's chilling with me while I keep working and he takes care of the calls. Around 3:45 he realizes the head wound is still bleeding some and he needs to go to the walk in. I head out at 4:00 pm and my boss says he will take care of the guys if they bother to show up. My husband ended up needing two staples and is doing fine.

The next morning, I get to work around 7:45 am. There is a white truck, our company truck and a couple of my coworkers cars in the parking lot. Because we do a lot of vehicle wraps its not unusual for there to be vehicles dropped off overnight so I think nothing of the white truck. But as I am approaching the door and pulling my keys out I hear some doors slam and a male voice say "Not getting away from us this time!"

Guys, I thought I was about to die! Who says that to a woman alone in a parking lot? I spin around prepared to chuck my coffee and run when I realize it's the customers. I glare at them before turning back around and heading in the door. After I clocked in I had my boss wait on them. I also handed the order off to one of my male coworkers because I am not messing with them anymore. You can't blame me for not being there when you consistently miss appointments and then scare the shit out of me before I am even clocked in.

Posted by admin Rodney