#WHERE DID ALL OF MY INSPO GO??? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sunsburns · 4 months

Text

good luck, babe!

pairing: tashi duncan x fem!reader x patrick zweig x art donaldson

summary: patrick zwieg invites tashi duncan and art donaldson to join him at your engagement party. you think they came to celebrate you and your new chapter and put the past behind you, rebuilding lost friendships, but tashi hopes to stop you from marrying a man you never wanted.

—or: the trio crashes your engagement party

word count: 10k+ (i have a serious problem)

contains: SMUT 18+, smut with a lot of plot, post-challengers movie, fluff & comfort, angst, tashi’s pov but lowkey get's mixed up around the end, foursome, oral (fem receiving), oral (m receiving), p in v, unprotected sed (wrap it before yall tap it), homewrecking, cheating but also not cheating but also a worse third thing, three-way make out, four-way make out, dom!tashi, patrick being nasty, art being a loser, no use of y/n, situationship that lasts 13 years.

author’s note: this fic is based on this request with inspo from the greatest song on earth: good luck, babe! it was supposed to be a quick smut blurb but at this point, you all know i can’t write smut without some kind of angsty plot. everyone is super messy and there is some of the dirtiest smut i’ve written so far (it’s only going to get worse from here). this one is a roller coaster.

It didn't make sense to any of them, how you could've possibly ended up with him.

Tashi remembered him from Stanford vividly. He came from a white-collared family, with daddy's money that bought him everything he could've ever asked for, yet he still wanted more. He played golf and polo and even dabbled with tennis but never had enough guts or skill to take it seriously. But his dad funded most of the programs and events at the school, so everyone had known him, his charm, his family, and his inability to stick to one thing even outside of sports. He clung onto a new girl every other week, a new girl wrapped around his finger only to be ultimately tossed aside like the rest of them.

"What a dick," Tashi remembered you saying once, stabbing your fork into your salad while glaring daggers at him from across the cafeteria as he bragged loudly to his fan club about how he beat you in a game of tennis.

Which he didn't.

You let him win.

His parents had been paying you to coach him, paid you extra every time you let him win a set or two against you, even if it was off the record. God knows you needed the money.

"I think I'm gonna quit." You said, turning back to glance at Tashi.

"About damn time," she snickered, shaking her head. "I told you you're wasting your time with him when you could be doing something better. Like training with me."

You had rolled your eyes and poked her arm with your fork, "If I'm still trailing after him this time next week, shoot me in the head and put me out of my misery."

Almost thirteen years later, you're walking around with his ring on your finger at your engagement party. A party where your fiancé announced your upcoming retirement after a tennis career run that Tashi would’ve killed for: a six-time US Open winner; two-time gold medalist at the Olympics; and brand deals that would ensure you and the next four generations of your family lived happily under your trust fund.

Clearly, you weren't marrying him for his money.

It made Tashi anxious, because, in some way, she could see that the marriage you will have with your fiancé is far too similar to how Tashi's would have been if she and Patrick stayed together.

Okay, maybe that was a reach.

Or maybe it's how it would've been if neither of you had gone up to Art and Patrick's hotel room that night. Or maybe it would've been Tashi's ring on your finger instead.

She couldn't shake the bitter taste in her mouth as she watched you laugh with him, your eyes lighting up in the way they always did when you were truly happy. It used to be her who made you smile like that. She remembered the late-night practices, the shared victories, and the quiet moments shared in the comfort of her dorm room. She remembered the promises you both made and dreams of dominating the tennis world together.

But she shouldn't dwell on the past, she shouldn't think about what-ifs. At least that's what Art tells her with a hand on her shoulder. Tashi glances at his hand, noting the wedding band that rests on his finger. The squeeze he gives is meant to be reassuring, but instead, it feels suffocating.

"I'll never know how he bagged her," Patrick tuts from her other side, a drink already in his hand. He holds it close to his mouth, biting the rim of the glass before taking a swig, his eyes never leaving you. His gaze is shameless, tracing the way your dress hugs your curves, how your hair shines under the chandelier lights, and the way your lips move as you speak.

"Lucky, lucky man..." Patrick shakes his head, a bitter edge to his voice.

A waiter passes by, offering hors d'oeuvres, and Patrick takes enough for the three of them for himself, setting his empty glass on the platter. As he stuffs an appetizer in his mouth, he begins to walk away, his eyes fixed on you.

"Where do you think you're going?" Art asks, his hand slipping from Tashi's shoulder.

Patrick spins around, mouth full, and shrugs. "To congratulate the future bride."

Art and Tashi stand there, watching, almost dumbfounded when they see Patrick sneak up behind you, wrapping his arms around your middle and lifting you into the air. You shriek, champagne spilling from your glass, but once you see who it is, a wide smile breaks across your face.

"Patrick!" Tashi can hear you from across the hall. Patrick lifts you again, hoisting you into the air. You wrap your arms around his shoulders as he spins you around, your laughter ringing out—a sweet melody that draws the attention of everyone nearby. "You made it!"

Tashi feels a pang of surprise.

You and Patrick had been in closer contact than she imagined. It stings, a reminder of the distance that had grown between you after her injury, much like the distance that had grown between Art and Patrick. She never knew you had turned to Patrick for comfort. Though it made sense—Patrick was the one you invited, not her, not Art. Patrick was the one who had to ask if he could bring two guests instead of the traditional plus-one.

But surely, you must have known that if you invited Patrick, Tashi and Art would come too, right?

Right?

The question churns a pit of dread in her stomach as Art starts to lead her closer to you out of courtesy.

Patrick's arms are wrapped tightly around your torso, his hand resting too low to be innocent, but you seem happy nonetheless. Happier in Patrick's arms than in the arms of your future husband. You embrace him close, the ring on your finger glimmering under the chandelier lights as you hold onto the back of his neck, your laughter finally subsiding as the spinning stops.

As Tashi and Art approach, the reality of the situation hits her harder. She's watching from the outside, a spectator to your happiness, feeling the sting of what could have been. She forces a smile; your engagement to the worst person in the world can't possibly be the thing that makes her break. Not after everything she's built since she started coaching.

Art tries to catch your eye, offering a polite smile once you let go of Patrick. "Hey."

"Hi," you say breathlessly, a bright smile across your face while Patrick swings his arm over your shoulder. You seem happy, almost relieved that Tashi and Art were here as if you doubted their attendance. "Wow, it's been so long. You guys look great."

"Thanks," Tashi finally says, the words weighing on her tongue like lead.

"You look beautiful," Art tells you, and it's rushed as if he's been trying to keep it to himself but couldn't help it once he was close enough to you.

Before you can get a word out, another arm wraps around your waist, discreetly pushing Patrick away from you to slide into your side. Patrick lets out an annoyed groan, stepping aside as your fiancé squeezes you tightly and says, "She does, doesn't she? Hey, killer."

You turn to him, about to say something, maybe greet him back, maybe introduce him to everyone. But he doesn't let you, he's leaning closer until his lips lock with yours. It takes you by surprise—you flinch at first before finally letting him kiss you properly, his hand cupping the back of your neck, pushing you as close to him as humanly possible.

Art lets out a low, awkward sigh while watching it happen before him, and Patrick rolls his eyes, stepping back in search of a waiter for another drink.

He holds onto you like you're a prize he's won. Almost as if he's been competing with everyone in the world to finally hold you and show you off. As if that's all you had to offer.

You blink, clearly embarrassed, as you clear your throat to disperse the awkward tension in the air. "These are some, uh," you stumble over your words before nodding towards Art, Tashi, and Patrick, "some old friends from college. I'm sure you remember—"

He's interrupting you again, reaching out with the hand that's not on you to shake Tashi's hand. He holds it tightly, his thumb pressing against her wedding ring. "Tashi Duncan, how could I ever forget? Still beautiful as ever."

She has to force herself to smile, for your sake. "Good to see you too—"

"You know," your fiancé starts, cutting her off, "I still remember the time you told me to suck a bag of dicks 'cause I took up your court time. Best day of my life."

"Yeah," Patrick laughs. He's found another glass of champagne to sip on, and it's by his lips when he says, "who doesn't love getting cussed out by Tashi."

You wince. "Patrick—"

"No, no. He's right. It's one out of a million. I took it as a compliement," your fiancé says, glancing at Tashi again, his eyes darting up and down, lingering on her wedding ring once more before she finally pulls her hand out of his grasp. He spots the arm Tashi has been clinging to. "Art Donaldson, I'm a big fan."

Art stiffens as if taken by surprise. "Really?"

Your fiancé is nodding, and when Art glances your way for a split second, he tugs you closer. "You're incredible. Watching you play, it's like, woah! He's killin' it out there. Too bad you've retired though, would've loved to see you play longer."

There's a faint redness to Art's face when he nods. "Oh, thank you."

"I've always wondered if I'd turn out the way you did if I stuck to tennis." Then he laughs, nudging your side. "If only this one put me to work like Tashi did to you, maybe we would've competed in the US Open a few times."

You snort and shake your head, the idea of watching the two of them even standing on the court together amusing you. "You couldn't beat Art if you tried."

Your fiancé shrugs. "Maybe Patrick."

"Stop kidding yourself. You can't even beat your nephew and he's twelve."

He hums, turning so that he'll face you. He holds your waist with both hands, caressing you gently. "You sure know your way into a man's heart, baby," he says lowly before kissing you again. It's rough and messy, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth. You shriek and press your hands against his chest. He doesn't let go immediately, peeking a glance towards the trio while kissing you.

Tashi feels a knot of disgust tightening in her stomach. The audacity of him to touch you like that in front of them, as if he’s marking his territory, sets her blood boiling just a little bit. God, did no one teach this guy any kind of etiquette?

She catches Art's expression out of the corner of her eye—his jaw is clenched as he turns to look away. Patrick's lips curl in a sneer, the glass in his hand trembling slightly. He fights the urge to throw it.

Your fiancé reaches down and gropes your ass over your silky white dress before finally separating from you.

You stand there, looking flushed and embarrassed, letting him whisper something in your ear before he walks off, joining a group of men who whistle and catcall at him as he nears them. Each jeer and hoot feels like a slap to the face.

"Uh, sorry," you apologize, unable to meet their eyes as you blindly wipe at your chin to fix your lipstick. "That was... I don't know what's gotten into him. He's not usually like this. He's, uh... he's great."

Patrick scoffs, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Yeah, real great."

Tashi can’t help but frown, her heart aching as she watches you fumble. "You can't possibly want to marry him," she wants to say, but the words get stuck in her throat. She can't bear to hear the answer, especially if it's the one she fears.

Art steps forward, his face a careful mask of neutrality. "If you’re happy," he says, but there's an edge to his tone, a challenge. The unspoken words hang heavily in the air: "Are you?"

You nod quickly, too quickly, as if trying to convince yourself as much as them. "Sure, sure. I mean, what’s not to be happy about? His family loves me. I'm retiring this year, and gonna spend more time with my family. Hopefully more time with some old friends?"

"Old friends?" Tashi repeats, the words tasting bitter on her tongue. The casual way you say it, as if years of distance and silence can be bridged with a few meetings, stings more than she cares to admit.

"Yeah, before I get busy with the baby."

"Baby?" Patrick's voice is sharp, almost disbelieving. "You’re pregnant?"

"What? No!" You quickly sputter, shaking your head. Then you pause, a thought crossing your mind and you lighten up a little bit, a hopeful smile gracing your face, "But I do want kids one day. I want three."

"Does he want kids?"

"We've talked about it, but he shuts it down all the time."

"You poor thing." Patrick puffs out, pinching your arm before reaching for your hand and leading you toward the bar. "Let's bring this conversation outside, ladies. I need a smoke. And you all need a drink stronger than his champagne."

The idea of fresh air and a strong drink is appealing. After grabbing a bottle of finely aged wine, the four of you make your way to the garden outside the grand hall. The shift from the stuffy indoor atmosphere to the cool night air is a relief.

The moonlight casts a silvery glow over the meticulously maintained garden, illuminating the path with a soft, ethereal light. You glow in your pretty white dress, the fabric shimmering as you take a seat on a patch of grass near the rose bushes. The scent of roses mingles with the crisp night air, creating a tranquil yet poignant backdrop. You glance up at the three of them who stand there, watching you.

Tashi raises a brow as you take a long swig of the wine. She didn't remember you to be much of a drinker.

"It's not that big of a deal," you say, passing her the bottle when she finally sits next to you.

It's as if her movement had woken the two guys and then Art takes a seat on your other side while Patrick lies down on the grass a few feet away to light a cigarette.

You pout, "If he doesn't want kids, then we won't have kids."

"But you want kids," Tashi reminds you, but it's more of a question as if she's wondering if that's truly what you want. Don't get her wrong, Tashi loves being a mother, she would kill anyone for Lily, but you wanting kids barely before confirming your retirement threw her off a little bit.

"Of course I do." You hiccup, reaching for the bottle again. "I'm not getting any younger. It's just... he'll come around."

"And if he doesn't?" Art asks, his voice gentle but probing.

"Can we not talk about that right now? I just want to get shitfaced and party."

"Now we're talkin'!" Patrick interjects, his grin wide as he takes a drag from his cigarette. The embers glow briefly in the dark.

"Come on, everybody gather." Patrick flicks his cigarette off to the rocky pathway and snags the bottle from Art's hands. He raises it, nodding at you with that same smirk he's had for years. Snarky, cocky, and yet endearing. "To celebrate new beginnings. Even if your future husband's a dick and can't make you cum nearly half as hard as I can. Good luck, babe."

The rest of you all make a noise of annoyance, rolling your eyes. "Seriously?"

"Shut the fuck up, Patrick," Art scoffs, though there's a faint smile tugging at his lips as you let a giggle slip out past your fake annoyance.

Patrick's smile only widens at the sound of his friends' protests. It reminds him of the good old years when his biggest worry was which shorts he'd wear to his next game. "Cheers!"

As the bottle is passed around, Tashi can't help but feel a pang of nostalgia mixed with bitterness. The comradery of the past clashes painfully with the reality of the present. Is this how things are going to be like now? Is this night a call for a truce, waving the white flag so that all of you could be friends again, now as adults, making plans for brunch and getting the kids together for birthday parties?

You take another sip from the bottle, your gaze drifting towards the moonlit sky. "To new beginnings," you repeat softly, though the hope in your voice is tinged with uncertainty.

Tashi leans back, her eyes lingering on you, a mix of longing and regret pooling in her heart. Art sits quietly beside her, lost in his thoughts, while Patrick’s laughter rings out, masking deeper sentiments beneath his forced cheerfulness. The chatter and music from the hall spill into the garden, the warm lights casting a golden glow over the scene. Patrick talks animatedly about the seasons he thinks he has left in him, and to Tashi's annoyance, you encourage him.

She shakes her head at the way Patrick's eyes light up, glancing at her with a knowing look. Despite her irritation, she can't deny the comfort of slipping back into their old dynamic.

Suddenly, Art hums thoughtfully. He has been mostly quiet, listening to the conversation with occasional quiet laughs. Now, as he puts down the empty bottle of wine, he looks at you, his eyes more alive than they have been in a long time. "I had a burger for the first time in years," he announces, a smile spreading across his face as if he is proud of it.

You gasp, perking up as you reach over to hold his hands. "How was it?"

"Amazing," Art says fondly, "like heaven inside a bun."

"You should've seen him," Tashi smirks, shoulder to shoulder with Patrick, playfully kicking Art. "He was drooling just looking at the menu."

He rolls his eyes, "I wasn't drooling." When you fall silent, he looks at you again, frowning. "You haven't had one in a while, have you?"

You shake your head, "No, I think the last time I had one was when we graduated."

Patrick scoffs, "Bullshit."

You laugh, "It's true! I've been very strict with my diet. And now that I've retired... I don't know..." You shrug, suddenly getting shy as Art starts tracing stars against the back of your hand. "There are so many options, I wouldn't know where to start."

"It doesn't have to be anything fancy," Tashi says.

"Pretty sure I saw an old diner on the way here," Patrick suggests. He stands, stretching and groaning before bending over to take Tashi's hand and help her up.

You sputter, watching them all start to stand before you. "Shut up, we're not driving, you're drunk."

"But sober enough to see how badly you want this," Patrick teases, waving a finger near your face and smirking. "You're drooling."

"No, I'm not!"

"Sure you are," Art joins in, pulling you up to your feet. He swipes a thumb at your chin, "Look right there, by your lip."

"Oh," Tashi grins, "I see it."

"Shut up, Tash, no you don't." The words fall from your lips before you can stop them. The old nickname fits too smoothly as if it hasn't been years since you've called her that. Tashi smiles, feeling like a teenager again, messing around with you. She starts to walk off, Art and Patrick following her while you stand there, dumbfounded and a little breathless from their teasing.

"Where are you going?"

"To get a burger?" Tashi shrugs, and she smirks at you, a mischievous smile that makes you wonder if any of you have ever grown up at all. "You coming or what?"

You try to be reasonable, "I can't just leave."

"We'll bring you back before anyone notices," Patrick bargains, jogging back to your side and taking your arm to lead you to the exit. "Lighten up, when was the last time you had some fun?"

You don't even look back.

You find yourself laughing, nodding as the four of you make your way out of the garden. The moonlight guides your steps, casting long shadows on the path.

The walk is a blur of laughter and shared stories, the kind of carefree joy that you haven't felt in years. Before long, you arrive at the diner. The neon lights buzz softly, casting a nostalgic glow over the parking lot. You can smell the greasy, comforting aroma of burgers and fries even before you step inside.

The few people in the diner stare, watching as what seems to be a runaway bride and three wedding guests stumble and giggle over each other, lips a little purple from the wine you've all had and ordering burgers to go.

Once you have your food, you all find yourselves sitting on the curb of the diner's parking lot, the warm night air wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. Patrick hands out the burgers, his eyes twinkling with a mischievous light as he makes a show of presenting yours to you. "First bite in... how many years?"

"Too many," You take the burger with a chuckle, unwrapping it and taking a bite. "Oh my God," you mumble around your mouthful, "this is amazing."

Tashi watches you, a soft smile playing on her lips. "Told you."

Art takes a bite of his own burger, nodding in agreement. "There's nothing like it."

You shake your head, going in for more, "This is the greatest thing I've put in my mouth."

Patrick, already halfway through his, lets out a loud laugh, "Yeah, I bet."

The parking lot felt like a little bubble of the past, untouched by the years that had separated you. It was strange how easy it was to fall back into the rhythm of your old friendships, how natural it felt to banter and laugh as if no time had passed at all.

Tashi rolls her eyes, though you don't even seem phased by Patrick's joke. "I can't even get mad," you say, swallowing, "I feel like I'm eighteen again."

"Tell me about it," Art agrees. Then he pauses for a beat, chewing on her burger a little slower before turning to you. "You know, this reminds me of that time... when, you know."

"Oh," You snort and nod, scrunching up your face at the memory. "Yeah. It kinda does."

"What?" Patrick looks between the two of you, raising his brow in interest. "What time?"

"It was a long time ago," you tell him.

"Like back in Stanford," Art explains, and then he points between Tashi and Patrick with his burger, "when you two were still a thing."

Tashi sits up straight now, her full attention on you and Art. "Oh, really?"

"It was that time Patrick came for a surprise visit in the middle of our girls' night," you say, nodding your head at her, hoping she'd catch up with the memory. "And you kicked me out of your dorm so you and Patrick could... you know."

Tashi nods. "Have some alone time." She finishes for you.

She remembers that night well: you were both nestled in the haven of her dorm room, the soft glow of the television casting gentle shadows on the walls as the movie played on. You were curled up under her covers, your bodies intertwined, legs tangled together in a comforting knot. The world outside ceased to exist in those moments, leaving just the two of you in your little cocoon of comfort.

Tashi can still feel the sensation of your fingers running through her hair, the tender, rhythmic motion soothing her in a way nothing else could. The warmth of your touch lingered on her scalp, your fingers traced lazy patterns, and she remembered the way her body instinctively relaxed into yours.

But then came the knock on the door, and she felt her heart jump at her throat as she swung her legs out from under the covers and padded softly to the door.

When she opened the door, there stood Patrick, his presence almost surreal. He was holding a bouquet of carefully picked-out flowers, their vibrant colours contrasting sharply with the dim light of the hallway. His smirk was both nervous and charming

"You kicked her out?" Patrick gasps, and Tashi gives him a blank stare. He's acting as if he wasn't even there, as if he didn't stand by her desk while watching her scramble to clean up the mess the two of you made in her dorm and shove you out the door before locking it.

Patrick shrugs, that stupid smirk painted on his lips again before he finishes his burger. "Would've let you stay if it were up to me," he tells you, "The more, the merrier."

"No way," you poke your tongue at the inside of your cheek. "She wanted you all for herself."

"Please, I would've been too distracted with you to even give him my time of day," Tashi admits. "I did you a favor, Patrick. Saved you from blue balls."

He holds a hand to his heart. "I'm so honored."

"But anyway," you start, "while I was walking back to my dorm I bumped into Art, who got stood up on a date."

Patrick blinks, turning to Art. "You got stood up?"

"Was it that girl from marketing?" Tashi asks.

Art's cheeks start to turn red, the flush growing from his neck and up to his ears at the attention. "Yeah, she, uh, she bailed on me last minute."

"I remember you telling me the date went well," Patrick says. "That you guys went out late, bought takeout... you made out in your car," Then, to fuck with him, he adds, "You came in your pants 'cause she kissed your neck. Remember?"

"And that did happen," Art confesses begrudgingly, glaring at Patrick while Tashi laughs. "It’s just... it wasn't with her..."

"It... it was me," you admit.

Tashi wishes she could say she's surprised, but it's nearly impossible because anyone who knew you back in college knew very well about the big crush you harboured for a certain blonde. She knew the way you swooned after him, even if you never tried to admit it because it was too embarrassing.

"Wait, so," Tashi starts, poking at your side and drawing a nervous giggle from you. It makes her smile. "Is Art that guy you told me about, with the puppy eyes and pretty smile?"

"Okay," you puff out, blushing, "I did not say puppy eyes."

"You think I have puppy eyes?" Art asks you, his gaze softening.

When you take a few seconds too long to answer, Patrick claps his hands together and swings his arm over yours and Art's shoulders, pulling the two of you closer to him. "Aw," he teasingly coos at the two of you getting all flustered, "you think he has puppy eyes."

"It was so long ago," you say, running your hands over the soft fabric of your dress. "I don't even remember."

"I'm so sure you don't," Patrick hums, a knowing look in his eyes before he presses a sloppy kiss against your cheek.

You groan, shoving your hand in his face to push him off before you stumble to stand on your feet again, wiping your cheek from his spit. "You're disgusting," you huff, but there's no real bite in your words because there's a faint smile threatening to appear at the corners of your lips.

You stand there for a beat or two, brushing off your dress and feeling the weight of the night settling in. You stare down at the three of them sitting on the curb, the neon lights of the diner buzzing behind you. You can see the hall where your engagement party is from where you stand; you almost don't want to go back.

"Okay," you tuck your lower lip between your teeth as you hesitate, "this... this has been fun."

"Don't leave yet," Tashi says while Art's smile drops, his face falling in disappointment.

"Yeah," Patrick rushes to stand, reaching for you, "the party was just getting started."

"I really have to get back," you step away. "If anyone finds out I left, I'll hear about it for days. This has been great. Like, seriously, I don't think I've ever laughed this hard since before..." You trail off, your tongue getting tied as you glance at Tashi, then at her knee, covered by the length of her dark purple dress. You clear your throat. "Well, uh, I better go. But thank you again, for the beer and the burgers and the memories. I hope you guys can make it to the wedding."

You start to walk away before they can say anything. Like, on purpose, as if you know that if they tried to make you stay and ditch your party, you would. You would cave to their defences.

The sound of your heels is deafening. Tashi watches you go, she watches how you wrap your arms around yourself, and it all feels too similar to how she watched you go all those years ago and never chased after you.

"Don’t marry him," Tashi stands from the curb. She's shaky on her feet, taking long strides to walk past Patrick and hoping to catch up to you. She sees you freeze in your steps, barely out of the parking lot. You turn to look at her quickly, face falling in shock at her demand.

"What?" Your voice is quiet, hoping that your ears are betraying you.

Tashi slows down once she is close enough, the distance between you is almost nothing but the gap feels like miles. The red and blue lights from the neon sign blend into a deep purple against your skin, casting an ethereal glow that makes this moment feel suspended in time. She watches your face, sees the way your brows knit together, the flicker of anger and confusion in your eyes.

Her heart is pounding, the blood rushing in her ears almost drowning out her voice. But she forces herself to speak, her voice low and urgent. "Don’t marry him," she says again, each word feeling like it's being ripped from her chest. Her resolve, which had held firm all these years, finally crumbles.

Getting Patrick back into her life had been one of the most complicated, tangled pains she had ever undertaken. The late-night calls, the awkward meetings, the painstakingly slow rebuilding of trust between herself and Art.

None of it had been easy.

Yet, even with Patrick back, there had always been something missing—a void that only you could fill.

She looks into your eyes, her gaze unwavering, despite the tears welling up. "Please," she pleads, her voice breaking. "Please, don't marry him." The words hang heavy in the air, a desperate plea that carries years of longing and regret. She knows that having you back won't make up for the lost time, and won't magically fix all the mistakes and missed opportunities. But she can at least try, can at least fight for the chance to make things right.

"Tashi, you can't possibly be asking me to—"

"It’s not worth it," she tells you anyway, her voice trembling with the weight of unspoken truths. She knows it’s a risk, a gamble she's taking by laying her heart bare, but she can’t hold back any longer. The years of resentment, of silent longing, bubble to the surface, fueled by the sight of you with someone else's ring on your finger. It's a bitter pill to swallow, the realization that she resented you not for leaving, but for never coming back.

Why didn't you come back?

Tashi's words hang heavy in the air, a desperate plea born from years of unspoken desires and regrets. "Both of you want different things anyway. You don't love him," she continues, her voice raw with emotion, "it's not gonna last. One day you're gonna wake up in the middle of the night and realize I'm right. You'd hate to admit it, but I will be right. I am right. He doesn't deserve you. He's no good for you."

You scoff, "And you are?"

"You said it yourself," she presses on, her voice barely above a whisper, "You've never laughed the way you do with us. And you kept in touch with Patrick, so that's gotta mean something." It's a feeble attempt to grasp at straws. "Marrying him will just be another excuse, another stupid reason. I thought you were better than that."

Then she remembers that night before you left for London, back in 2012. It's like a distant memory now, a flicker of what could have been. The air was thick with anticipation, the tension palpable as you stood on the precipice of something new. She remembers the way your eyes met hers after your exchange with Art at the hotel bar, a brief greeting with an old friend, both of you at the peaks of your careers. It is a silent exchange of longing and regret. For a moment, it felt like time stood still, like the world was holding its breath, waiting to see what would happen next.

She remembers the smell of your perfume, the bitterness of the drink you were having and how she could taste it when she kissed you; tongue running over your teeth, nails clawing at skin, hair tangled between fingers, hot breaths and unkept promises and false apologies and a night of regret.

And then the morning came, and with it, you had to leave. And she never stopped you.

"Tashi… I can't just throw this all away for you. For any of you. You were the one who told me to leave."

"I know."

"Because you know everything, right? Because you know he's not good for me, you know it all."

"I know you."

"No, you don’t," you say, your voice tinged with hurt. "Not anymore.”

Tashi huffs, shaking her head before she reaches out, cupping your cheeks gently in her hands. Her lips hover over yours for a moment, a silent plea hanging in the air between you. She waits, her heart pounding in her chest, for you to make a move—to kiss her, to push her away, anything.

You gaze into her eyes, tears glistening in the dim light, before finally closing the distance between you. The kiss is tender, and bittersweet, a culmination of years of unspoken longing and regret. It's a brief moment of solace amid chaos.

Your hands dig into the nape of her neck, where the short ends of her dyed hair tickle the skin of your wrist. The heat of your engagement ring nearly burns her, the edge of the diamond scraping against her skin.

When you pull away, breathless, Tashi fears this will be the last time she will see you.

"Tashi, this doesn’t change anything," you say, your voice trembling.

"It changes everything," she whispers, her fingers tracing the line of your jaw. "You know it does."

But you step back, breaking the contact, the distance between you growing with each passing moment. "I have to go," you murmur, the weight of the decision heavy on your shoulders. "I need to think."

As you walk away, Tashi watches you go, her heart heavy with uncertainty. She clings to the memory of that fleeting moment, a glimmer of hope in the darkness.

Back in the hotel room, an uneasy silence settles among the trio. Tashi steps out of the shower, her mind a whirlpool of conflicting emotions. The press of your lips still lingers on her own, a persistent buzz that crawls under her skin.

As she rubs lotion into her arms, she takes her time, methodically moving over each inch of her skin as if she could somehow rub away the confusion and yearning. She finishes her skincare routine, staring at herself in the mirror, almost meeting the eyes of the eighteen-year-old girl who had her whole life ahead of her. It's a constant chant in her head not to dwell in the past.

She has to focus—she needs to find a way to pull Patrick Zweig out of the top 200 ranks and get him qualified for the US Open by the time the next season starts.

Speaking of the devil, when Tashi steps out of the bathroom, she finds Patrick lounging on the loveseat by the open window. Naturally, his shirt has found itself a home on the floor, and a cigarette dangles from his lips.

He perks up when she walks out, sitting up to greet her, "Don't beat yourself up."

Tashi rolls her eyes and climbs into the bed, letting herself sink into the soft comforter. "Shut the fuck up, Patrick. And put that shit out."

"I'm just saying," he shrugs, taking one last drag before flicking the cigarette out the window, grinning when he hears Tashi scoff. "She's a stubborn little shit," he says as the hotel door clicks open and Art walks in. Patrick hums, "Probably only marrying him to piss us off anyway. Been trying to talk her out of it for months. Never listens."

"She might listen to Tashi," Art says, turning to his wife with a hint of optimism in his voice. "Lily's asleep, by the way."

"Right, because my word is stronger than both of yours," Tashi retorts, pulling the blanket over her legs.

Art and Patrick glance at each other before nodding, "Yes."

"Well, yeah."

They all sit in silence for a while, each lost in their own little bubble. The hotel room is quiet except for the faint hum of the air conditioner and the occasional rustle of the bedspread.

Art joins Tashi on the bed, absently flipping through the channels on the television, the remote clicking softly in his hand. Beside him, Tashi pretends to read a book, her eyes scanning the same sentence over and over again without really absorbing the words. Meanwhile, Patrick rummages through the mini fridge, the sound of bottles clinking and wrappers crinkling breaking the stillness.

A quiet knock on the door makes the three of them freeze, their heads snapping up in unison. They exchange hesitant glances, each wondering if they imagined it. Then three raps against the wood sound again, more insistent this time. Patrick scrambles to the door, Art and Tashi close behind him, their curiosity piqued and their hearts pounding.

Patrick swings the door open, and there you are, a sight for sore eyes. You're still in the same dress, though one of the straps has fallen off your shoulder, and your makeup is smudged around your eyes. You hold your phone close, dropping it from your ear.

"I tried calling," you say, turning your phone so they can see Patrick's contact, a simple 'pat' with a cute tennis ball emoji next to his nickname. "You never answered."

"My phone died." He shrugs.

You let your hand fall to your front, where your fingers pull on each other nervously. Tashi can't help but notice the lack of a ring on your finger all of a sudden. She raises her brows at you, a knowing look flashing across her face before she tells you, "Something's changed."

You roll your eyes and step into the room, sliding between Art and Patrick easily. "A lot has changed." You walk until you reach the middle of the room.

It's a big hotel room, not nearly as big as the ones Art and Tashi are used to staying in, but big and luxurious nonetheless. You fit in perfectly with your white gown and styled hair, a vision of elegance even in your dishevelled state.

You turn, facing the three of them again. "I hope whatever offer you guys were hinting at earlier still stands... I don't exactly have anywhere else to stay, unless I want to hear my mother telling me how she was right the entire night."

Tashi smirks. "You know I'm about to tell you the same thing too, right?" She closes the space between the two of you, tucking a fallen strand of hair behind your ear. Her nails brush against your jaw in a feather-light touch until her fingers pause below your lips.

"Yeah, I know."

You don't seem too upset about it. Instead, you're grinning, letting Tashi push her thumb between your lips. The gesture is intimate, charged with unspoken emotion. You're standing face-to-face when she says, "I told you so."

She leads you to sit on the bed, and you let her, nearly tripping over your heels before you land on the soft duvets. Tashi leans down, her nose brushing against yours, and you swallow your heart racing.

"You were right," you murmur. It's hard to maintain eye contact when your skin is buzzing with heat and when there's so much going on in the depths of her eyes that it dizzies you. "I hate it, though."

Her nose is cold against yours, a sharp contrast to the warmth of her breath. You let your eyes fall shut as she slowly traces patterns under your chin, pressing her thumb harder into your mouth before pulling it out. She catches the side of your face with it, making a mess with your spit.

She smiles, "I know you do."

Instinctively, and embarrassingly, there's a shiver rolling down your spine.

Tashi releases a small chuckle, and then, after a final moment, her lips fill in the small gap between you both. You sink into it immediately, heart rejoicing as her lips, warm and smooth, explore your own.

It's a little fumbly, nervous and making you tremble under her hands. Tashi loves every second of it. Her fingers grip your face tighter, mouth pressing to yours with more hunger as you wind your fingers into her hair and sigh. Between gasped breaths and soft sounds of enjoyment, she slips her tongue along your lower lip, and so you open your mouth a little wider.

Tashi ends up straddling you, making out like you're both teenagers again, putting on a show for Art and Patrick. The exhilarating butterflies twirling in your stomach match the memories, too.

You moan softly as she pulls away from your mouth, her attention shifting to your neck. As you watch Patrick and Art make their way to sit next to you on the bed, the bed dipping, you tilt your head to the side and open up your throat to Tashi. You whimper as you feel her lips drag over your exposed skin. She nibbles and sucks until she finds the sensitive part that makes you cry out.

"Fuck," you whimper. You tug on her air-dried curls, coaxing her back up to your lips so you can enjoy the feeling of her mouth on yours. Tashi sighs, and you can feel her smiling into it while beckoning Art and Patrick to join in.

Their lips are on you in a split second, with Art pressing soft, ticklish kisses against your collarbone, and Patrick sliding his tongue from your shoulder to the back of your ear. He's moaning at the taste of you, sucking a bruise under your jaw while digging his hand into the back of your hair.

He slowly starts to bring his sloppy kisses to your mouth, lips brushing against Tashi's and your own before she draws back. You whine, pouting as you watch her take a few steps away before making herself comfortable in the cushioned seats by a small dining table. You can't pout for too long, because now Patrick is kissing you, tugging softly at your hair until your back arches.

His tongue presses against yours, pressing as far back as he can reach, swallowing your every moan and whimper. You bring your hand up to scratch at his beard, then run your nails over his scalp. This is when Art starts to get a little bolder by running his hands up and down your thighs, pulling and pulling the long skirt of your dress until he reaches the end of it and he can touch your skin and take off your heels, tossing them aside somewhere.

Patrick traps your lower lip between his teeth, watching it bounce back into its place as he leans back just the slightest bit. You break apart with a whimper. Your half-lidded eyes meet his, then flick down to the trail of spit strung between your glistening lips. He stares at you, cheeks a little red as he smirks, "I've missed this. Missed you."

You smile, breathless as Art's hand makes its way up higher and higher and closer to your heat, his mouth is relentless with its attack at your neck. He grinds his crotch against the side of your leg and you cradle the back of his head with your other hand.

"You saw me last week, Patrick."

"Last week?" Art pulls away. His lips are parted, eyes a little dazed but focused enough to stare between you and Patrick in confusion. Tashi smirks from where she sits and shifts in her place.

"We're not all perfect, Art." You groan, rolling your eyes as Patrick laughs, reaching over you to start pulling down Art's pants who shifts in his place to let him. Once they're off, he looks at you, and it's embarrassing how fast you tangle together, melding together into a pathetic heap on the bed for Tashi and Patrick to see.

Your lips move in tandem, his soft, pouty lips slitting against yours with ease as you lead his hands to your chest and shove them under your dress.

Art squeezes and fondles your breasts over your bra, his hips jerking against your leg again, almost desperate as his boner presses against the fabric of your dress as it has fallen down again.

Tashi startles you as she settles behind, one knee on the bed while her other long leg steadies her on the carpeted floor below. You let her tilt you backward, parting you from Art and she draws you into an upside-down kiss. The salacious kiss leaves your legs parting for the two men beside you.

Patrick makes quick work of taking that damn dress off of you and you sputter out a pathetic moan when Art's soft hands tease your hardening nipples once Patrick gets half of it off.

Your dress eventually falls into a heap on the floor in front of the bed, you’d matched with it a white paired set underneath.

"No fucking way," You peek one eye open slightly to see Patrick scowling while Art runs his hands everywhere he can reach, across your stomach, your thighs, under your boobs, down your back.

Patrick tilts his head and groans, "I can't believe you wore this shit for him."

Your hand cups Tashi's jaw to deepen the kiss as you both ignore Patrick, only Art snorting out a laugh as he tugs his shirt over his head.

Patrick slots himself between your open legs, stopping just a breath short of your aching cunt to nip teasingly at your soft inner thigh before dragging his mouth up to your neck again. He revels in the moans he's able to draw from you as he finally comes to caress your face.

You pull away from Tashi and gasp in a breath. "Kiss me, Pat," You bite your lip, feeling your heart race as he eyes you up so openly.

"Beg me," He counters with a quirked brow, challenging you.

Your nose crinkles, "I'm not doing that."

"I'm not kissing you, then."

"Shut up and kiss her, Patrick," Tashi groans, attached to Art. She holds his face the same way she did with you, pulling him closer and letting the man crawl to her. But she's glaring at Patrick with venom behind it you know she can’t mean when she's trembling under Art's gentle touch as he slips off her silky nightgown.

"Come here," You beckon Patrick closer with a fiendish look in your half-lidded eyes.

"Yes, ma'am." Patrick nods, dazed as he obliges. "Anything you want, beautiful," His voice slightly slurs as the space between you diminishes once again. "I'll do anything for you," His husky voice drapes around your name like velvet as it's whispered against your plush lips.

Your hands easily find themselves tangled in Patrick's curly hair and tug him to your lips with aching want. You dive in immediately, lips meshing against and, eventually, catching against his chapped lips.

A moan escapes from your throat and he uses it as an opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. From there, it's another flurry of saliva, tongue and entirely too much white-hot pressure building below.

When you break for a breath, a string of saliva stretches between each of your red, puffy lips. Patrick groans at the sight and pulls you in for a slower, raw kiss that leaves you slick and trembling for more. When you pull apart again, Patrick plants a sweet kiss on Art's mouth before focusing back solely on you, his hand slowly approaching your white thong.

When he starts to rub, you moan into his mouth and start trailing your hand to his crotch, palming his dick. Patrick reciprocates easily and tugs at your lower lip with an impish look in his eyes.

Lips attack your neck again, pulling you higher up on the bed. You hear pants and clothes being shed from every angle around you before you're surrounded again, hands everywhere.

While Art pulls Patrick into a kiss, Tashi cups your face again and draws you into a gentle one as you settle between her legs, your back to her chest. You rest your head on Tashi's shoulder as you heave out another breath, her hands travelling from your navel to tracing shapes on your clit, over your wet panties, spreading your legs apart with her own.

"Please, Tash," you whimper as her fingers curl around the edge of the fabric and tug so it strains against your leaking cunt perfectly. She then decides to skim a whisper of her touch against your pulsing ache.

You gape as Patrick wraps his hand around Art's dick, stoking it, and he lets out the prettiest little whine. Patrick slowly works his way down Art's body, running his tongue between each curve of his muscles, collecting the sweat that's been building on his skin before wrapping his mouth around him, taking all of it in one insatiable bob of his head.

Tashi's nails tickle lightly up your stomach, then in the valley between your breasts and then back down again. It has you spiralling, arching your back as she presses a kiss at your neck.

"You're being so good," she coos into your ear. Your name is only a breath out of her mouth, and she's edging your clit with a gentle roughness that could only come from a woman of her calibre. Tashi pulls your panties aside and flicks and flits about your dripping cunt like she already knows how to make you come undone.

It makes you tremble. You'd sworn up and down earlier about how Tashi didn't know you anymore, and here she is, proving to you that she still does, that she knows every curve and divot of your body, that she still knows what makes you whimper and twitch.

Your hand quickly reaches behind you, between the heat of your back and her body and finds her clit and you try to emulate how she's making you weak. Each quiet gasp you earn from her has you moaning back tenfold under her saccharine trance and she quickly starts pumping two fingers into you.

One particular flick of Tashi's thumb on your clit coupled with her lips gliding against and sucking your own in a wanton kiss sends you over the edge. You moan and cum, back arching as you relentlessly force Tashi's hand against your cunt, searching for more delicious friction.

She takes you all, and lets you ride it all out on her fingers while swallowing every moan you let out in a lewd, wet kiss. Art and Patrick moan appreciatively at the two of you, then focus back on each other.

Before you're able to come down from your high, Art's shoving his come down Patrick's greedy throat. He swallows it all, pulling off Art's red-tipped cock with a vulgar pop that creates a trail of saliva in its wake.

Patrick smiles down at you and leans closer, and you think he's about to kiss you but then he swerves and kisses Tashi instead, who removes her hand from your cunt and slowly works it up his thigh until she cups his balls and gives them a gentle squeeze. He moans into her mouth, winking at you amid his impromptu make-out session you were tempted to join.

You shimmy back and turn on your stomach, positioning yourself between Tashi's long tanned legs. "Can I eat you out?" You ask while kissing up her leg, and you want to hear how much she needs you. You bite at your bottom lip as you nuzzle into her juicy cunt. "Tashi?" You look up at her from where your face is pressed against her. Her sweet smell makes you sigh as you tease your tongue with her hip bone. "Please, Tash, let me taste you."

"Yeah, go for it," Comes her breathless plea.

You finally pull her lips apart, revelling in how she squirms against your hold on her hips.

You're on your knees, trapped arching between Tashi's long legs when you hear Art clear his throat. You give one long lick up Tashi's twitching cunt before turning around with her slick dribbling down onto your chin to where Art has sidled up behind you.

Art crawls closer to you, "Can I touch you, beautiful?" He tilts your chin up as he awaits your answer.

When you nod, he easily descends upon your lips, placing a sure hand behind your head as he deepens the kiss into something absolutely filthy. As soon as you break apart, he kisses your shoulder, then down your spine.

Tashi guides you back to her. You allow her nails to tangle in your locks as she forces your head back down against her arching hips.

"Shit," Patrick huffs, rough hands reaching for the globes of your ass while Art's smoother ones trail up your spread, inner thighs. Tashi tugs at his dick a little harder, which has him panting against her lips.

Tashi gasps as you flick at her clit then quickly move to tease her entrance with the tip of your tongue. You flatten your tongue, dragging it across her length and repeat the motion until she whines for you to stop.

You slurp the combination of drool and slick as you pull away with a pussy-drunk smile. She meets it with a panting, dazed one and removes her hand from your hair to push her own out of her eyes while Patrick sucks at her neck.

"Ah!" You startle forward into Tashi's tits as Art finally breeches your entrance with his index finger.

"Eat our girl out, Art," Tashi motions for Art to lie down under your spread form to get a better angle. You can't deny that the new nickname drives you a little crazy. "Show her she's ours."

Art's soft hands draw another moan out of you as they assuredly grip your hips to keep you in place while he unleashes teasing licks against your pussy.

Tashi draws you back to her. You'd know that look anywhere—she's ready to cum.

"I want you," Her breath hitches around your name while your tongue steals the rest of her coherent words until she's a withering mess under your touch.

Her pornstar-worthy moans ring out across the room like a beautiful symphony. Tashi's wanton noises coupled with the wet whines you're unleashing against her folds until the two of you create the lewdest duet this hotel's ever heard.

She arches against the bedframe as she tells you her near release, tugging at your hair as she draws closer and closer to the edge.

Panting, she draws you against her lips for a sloppy, uncoordinated kiss.

"Fuck, Tashi," You groan against her plump lips, feeling your own impending orgasm drawing near. "You're so fucking hot, I-"

She cuts off your rambling with another wet kiss. Her tongue flicks out to tease yours before sucking it into her mouth with a lewd slurp. Your hand works alongside hers to leave her shaking and whimpering against your lips as she comes undone by your hand. You smack her cunt lightly, eating the groan she feeds into your open mouth as she rides it out.

Tashi eats your moans as they echo against your messy tangling of lips and tongues.

Art's fingers start to pick up a pace as Patrick, feeling left out, starts thrusting his throbbing cock in the middle of your sapphic kiss with Tashi. You eye the two with half-lidded eyes as you share Patrick's cock with her. After only a few moments in your mouth, Patrick pulls out and releases across Tashi's and your expectant tongues.

"So fucking good to me," Patrick pants as he splatters the last of his come across your faces with a shaky groan. "Best fucking orgasm ever, swear it," He says as he encases his lips around yours, swapping his cum between your mouths before moving to Tashi to do the same.

Art moves out from under you, offering your knees relief as he lays you back against Tashi's stomach to fuck into you.

It's a slow and cruel pace, only made crueller by how Patrick and Tashi touch you like they already know where you want to be touched. Each brunette takes a side, Patrick sucking your tit into his mouth while Tashi's mouth draws you in for a kiss. Her nails tickle at your other erect nipples until you're arching off of her and into Art's thrusts, making him whimper.

"Just like that," Art whines your name. "You're so fucking tight."

It's when Patrick and Tashi move their attention down to your clit that you know you're fucked. Patrick spreads your folds with two fingers, watching as intensely as Art does as his cock disappears in and out of your hole.

"He could've never made you feel like this, right?" Tashi rasps. "He has no strategy, no real game. Just a fucking waste of space. Could never make you feel this good, this loved."

You don't need her to say his name, you know what she means. You're panting, shaking your head against her shoulder. "Never."

"Told ya," Patrick laughs into your skin. "Make her cum, Art. C'mon, man."

"Fuck- please," You whimper, nodding. "I need to come, baby-" Without warning, you arch off of Tashi. Neither she nor Patrick stops their jerks against your clit as you gasp, eyes rolling back in your head with the thrum of a second wave creeping up on you with a steady building heat. Waves of pleasure roll over you as the tantalizing sensations become too much. You come loudly, arching pathetically off the bed as you desperately reach for Art, to hold him.

You're wriggling in Tashi and Patrick's arms as Art pulls out and releases across your expanding and retracting stomach as you pant out the remnants of your orgasm.

"Shit," He moans, and his voice sends waves of aftershock across your body while his steady hands draw you against his naked chest for a toe-curling kiss.

You'd never been happier to have invited Patrick Zweig to your engagement party.

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kimstills · 6 months

Text

i can see you

pairing: aaron hotchner x f!reader summary: "here i was thinking that i was special because you would only look at me with that desperate look on your face, but i see that you give any old man that look, right?” content warnings: jealous!hotch, reader is a panther (aren't we all), bathroom sex, mirror sex, p in v, sexual tension, unprotected sex (r mentions being on birth control but wrap it before you tap it!), rough sex, dirty talk, size kink if u squint, spanking, hair pulling, choking, dom!hotch, sub!reader. word count: 3.9k (y’all this was not supposed to be this long lmao) notes: day 18 of @hotchfiles marchhotchness 'self-image' but also HEAVILY inspired by this post from @softhairedhotch because it made me go FERAL and i love jealous hotch (but pls lmk if taking inspo was okay!!) this is also my first hotch fic ever so pls lmk ur thoughts or any other feedback <333

aaron hotchner was not a jealous man.

he had no right to be jealous over something that technically did not exist or someone that technically was not his.

and although he only had himself to blame for that, he really did wish that you were his. and as much as he was telling himself not to be, he was jealous.

but it wasn’t the typical jealous where he watched you be approached by someone much younger than him—someone your own age instead of his—and by someone who already had him beat in reciprocating that flirtatious energy you often used on aaron himself.

no, this type of jealousy was one that was boosting his ego and making him feel lightweight, albeit the fact that it still made him see red.

it was a typical night out with the rest of the team, all of you having agreed that the eight of you were in need of a couple of drinks after some long weeks of paperwork and back and forth cases.

you were all engrossed in the conversation, but you had left the table to get yourself another refill on your drink and had taken far too long than it normally would have, the rest of the younger members—all besides reid—having decided on hitting up the dance floor throughout the time you hadn’t returned to your seat.

it was practically natural for aaron to look for you in a crowd, but what he hadn’t expected to find was you, sitting in a bar stool on the right side of the bar, being hit up by a man who had to have been a couple of years older than aaron himself.

the front hairs of the man’s head were peeking of several grey hairs, paired with a matching grey beard and an overall radiance that screamed of that older man type that you were apparently into.

the sudden revelation made aaron feel dizzy, the confirmation of your attraction towards older men making his pants tighten as he watched the way you stared up at the man with that sultry look of yours—the one where you were somehow able to perfectly mix mischief and innocence seamlessly together.

while you had used that look on aaron countless times before, times where it had been only you and him alone in his office, way past working hours, he had never done anything about it. but, god, as he watched you do it to someone else, out on the open, there was nothing he was currently regretting more.

aaron’s train of thought was interrupted as he felt someone kick him from underneath the table he sat at, whipping his head to the person in front of him only to find rossi staring at him with a smug look on his face.

he cleared his throat, “what?”

aaron mentally cringed at the way his voice wavered.

“you gonna be done being jealous anytime soon and make a move or are you just gonna sit there throwing daggers at the guy?” dave asked, brows raised.

he took a long sip from his drink, trying to avoid the question for as long as he could as he tried to compose himself, “i don’t know what you’re talking about,”

rossi rolled his eyes, “oh, please, aaron. you don’t have to be a profiler to notice the way you can cut the tension that’s between the both of you with a butter knife,”

aaron’s brows furrowed.

“you have all the confirmation you need right there,” dave pointed his thumb behind him, signaling at you and the man, “if that’s not enough for you, then i’m declaring you helpless at this point,” he let out a sigh, standing from his seat, “i’m going to get another drink and if i find you still sitting here, wallowing in your thoughts after getting my refill, i’ll go up to them and encourage her to go home with the man.”

aaron’s fists clenched at the thought. at the thought of you sprawled on the bed of another man, wearing that same look you had on just now and staring up at him as you—

his body acted faster than his brain did, and before he even had the chance to process what he was doing, he stood from his own stool, not allowing for another moment to pass by as he stormed over to where you and the man were sitting.

from your side of the room, you can see aaron make his way over to you through the peripheral of your vision, the excitement of finally getting a reaction out of him making your heart skip and your thighs press together as you took into count the way his fists clenched and unclenched at his sides.

the pressure you put on your thighs didn’t do anything to relieve the ache you felt in your core as he reached where you sat, coming to stand behind—was his name michael? although the stranger you had began talking to was definitely older than him, aaron was a good several inches taller, towering over the both of you.

he cleared his throat, cutting michael off from whatever he had been talking to you about as he turned around with a raised brow. aaron’s expression didn’t falter, not sparing a single glance at the man as his eyes landed on you, “y/n, can i speak to you for a moment?”

you mentally rolled your eyes. ever the formal one.

michael scoffed from in front of him, angling his body so that he was able to properly glare daggers at your boss, “we were in the middle of a conversation here, if you don’t mind?”

although your attraction for aaron skyrocketed in comparison to the man you had just met, you were thriving off of the jealousy radiating off of the one you wanted the most, the ache in your stomach only growing.

before aaron had the chance to shoot out a reply, you set your hand on michael’s forearm, giving him a small, but sad smile, “i’m sorry, michael,” you butted in, jumping off of the bar stool, “i’ll be right back, okay?”

another scoff comes from michael’s direction, “whatever,” he grabs his drink and rolls his eyes, “don’t even bother coming back,”

ew.

this time you actually rolled your eyes, grabbing at your drink and drowning the rest of it. you shrug, “older men are always a hit or miss,” you mumble, setting the glass down.

aaron’s hand comes to wrap around your wrist, a firm but gentle grip on it as he pulls you close to him, “let’s go,” he seethes in your ear.

you hide a smirk as you follow behind him, letting your body practically flail as you struggle to keep up with him. when he notices your staggered pace, he matches his footsteps with yours, moving his hand from your wrist to your waist as he guides you through the crowd and towards the hallway that lead towards the bar’s restrooms.

the both of you gave a silent thanks at the fact that there was no line, the hallway scarce and dimly lit with the exception of a few people standing together against the walls, either flirting or talking.

“what are you doing?” you ask, standing behind him as he knocks on one of the doors, his grip on your waist still very much present.

“you’ll see,” he mumbles, yanking the door open by the knob after no one replies and pulling the both of you inside before slamming the door shut behind him.

you try to take a good look at the interior of the bathroom, trying to guess if it was a good enough place to do whatever the two of you were about to do.

a faint gasp escapes your lips as you feel something hard press into your ass, immediately melting as one of aaron’s big hands comes to rub at the side of your leg, right below your hip. his whole body comes up behind yours, his other free hand coming to your stomach to press you into him.

“aaron—” you try to speak but get cut off as you let out another gasp, one almost like a sigh, as the hand that was rubbing at your leg sneaks further up and wraps itself around your hip, aaron’s thick fingers digging into your skin despite the material of your shorts that blocked his hand.

aaron dips his head so that his mouth is right next to your ear, his breath and the faint touch of his lips against the lower part of your jawline sending shivers down your spine.

“is this okay?” he asks softly, a total contrast from the vice grip he had on both your front and hip.

you nod quickly, your hand coming up to your right where he held your hip to wrap around his own.

“use your words, honey,”

the pet name makes you whimper and your thighs clench in spite of the fact that you were standing up. you let out a ragged breath as he awaits for your answer, the hand that was pressed to your stomach furthering down until it was right above your pelvis but below your tummy, pushing you further back until you could feel how hard he actually was.

you whine, your other hand coming to wrap around that one, too, “yes,” you sigh, “it’s okay,”

aaron presses his lips into that same spot below your jaw, gently and lovingly before whipping you around so that you were facing him and pushing you up against the counter.

not even giving you a chance to process what he had just done, his lips crash onto yours roughly, making you moan directly into his mouth. your bring your arms up around his neck, running your fingers through his hair and tugging.

aaron hisses, slapping at your thigh in a firm way that had you let out another moan.

“aaron,” you whine, pushing up into his chest out of desperation.

he hums, “do you want my attention now?” he asks through the kiss, “don’t wanna go back and talk to that guy you were all over just a couple of minutes ago?”

“no,” you mumble, huffing as he breaks away from you to wrap his fingers around your chin.

he chuckles as your lips form into a puffy pout, “here i was thinking that i was special because you would only look at me with that desperate look on your face, but i see that you give any old man that look, right?”

“no!” you whine again, your arms dropping from around his neck to wrap around his bicep, squeezing at the muscle to try and pull him closer to you, “just you!”

his confidence was beyond what it normally was, feeling you squirm from against him yet still wanting his touch, “really? so you weren’t planning on going home with that man? all those times you touched his shoulder or the times he would touch your thigh meant nothing?”

“yes, they didn’t mean anything!” you huff, “you’re the one i want to go home with all the time!”

aaron’s heart clenched at your confession, knowing that deep down you really did mean all the time. he had just never been sure if you truly were interested in living a joint life with him. up until now, that is.

he brings his hands to your back, right by your shoulder blades as he connects your lips once more. your shoulders relax and you lean into him with earnest, squeezing at the muscle from his bicep.

you hum, satisfied as he begins to run his hands up and down, resulting in the fabric of your shirt lifting with every time he went up, eventually ending up in nothing but rolled up fabric under his palm. he breaks the kiss once more to toss your shirt over your head and near the sink’s counter, leaving you in only your shorts.

aaron stared at your bare breasts, not expecting you to have not been wearing a bra despite the tight shirt you just had on.

you shiver under his gaze, opening your mouth to say something before he lowered himself and quickly attached a mouth to one of your breasts, the other one coming up to grab and squeeze at it. you moan, gripping onto the marble counter for support as he presses sloppy and wet kisses to each breast.

his fingers come to undo the button of your shorts, hooking them inside your panties before shoving both articles of clothing down your legs, signaling you to kick them off of you. you toed your shoes off as well, leaving you completely naked and bare for him while he remained fully clothed.

he turns you around gently, bringing you face to face with the sight of you completely stripped in the mirror, the image making you clench your thighs together once more as you stabilized yourself on the sink.

aaron’s hands soothed all around your body, a whimper leaving you at the feeling of his calloused hands groping at your breasts before moving down to your soaking pussy.

as if on instinct, you spread your legs open for him, practically inviting him to dip his fingers into your folds and inside your entrance. the thickness of both his index and middle fingers stretching you out. you knew you had always loved his hands for a reason.

a moan bounced off the walls as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, moving torturously slow before he began to pick up the pace. you could feel your slick drip onto the floor and probably onto the rest of his hand, but all you could focus on was shamelessly bucking your hips into your hand and spreading your legs for even more access.

“you’re soaking, honey,” aaron says, hand coming back around to squeeze at your breast again, leaving you gasping as he pinched your nipples.

you whimpered, “just for you,”

“‘just for me?’” he repeats, “not for anyone else, right?”

you shake your head no, pussy clenching around his fingers, “j-just for you, aaron,”

his hand left your breast to smack at your ass, making you jump, “good girl,”

with that, he takes his fingers out of you, a throaty whine leaving your lips at the empty feeling. you arched your back into him, but immediately stilled at the sound of him removing his belt filled the room. you watched from the mirror in front of you as he undid his pants button, reaching past his boxers to pull out his cock.

oh shit.

your mouth dropped at the sight of his dick spring out from where it had been confined, your slick hole clenching at nothing at how big he was. you knew that aaron hotchner was definition of big dick energy, always wondered what he was secretly packing, but now you wondered if you were going to be able to take it all.

he was thick, veiny all around with girth too thick that it hurt just looking at him. as much as you could tell you wouldn’t be able to walk after this, it excited you far too much.

you gulped, meeting his eyes in the mirror, landing on his hungry gaze, “is it going to fit?” you ask quietly, trying to bring your legs back together.

“we’ll make it fit,” he says, sounding confident of himself, a hand coming to stop you from closing your legs, “will you let me know if it’s too much?”

you take another look at his cock before giving him a determined look, “i will,” you nod.

he nods back, angling your head with his hand so he could press a kiss to your mouth.

you give into him easily, arching into him until you feel the tip of his cock slip through your wet folds and line up with your entrance. you had taken dick before, but never this big, so as he gave you one last look, you took a deep breath before feeling him sink into you.

you gasp, already feeling full by just the tip, though the slickness of your pussy helping you in adjust.

“still good, honey?”

you nod again, too busy focusing on how his length was stretching you out further than his fingers had.

smack!

aaron’s hand landed another spank on your ass, making you snap your heads toward him with a confused, dumbfounded expression. he glared, “use your words.”

you huffed, doing your best to not roll your eyes, “still good,” you replied, going back to focusing on how full your pussy already felt, “is it in yet?”

“almost, baby,” you whined again, pushing your ass back onto him and earning yourself another inch inside.

humming in delight, you felt aaron begin to move, setting a slow pace as he inched himself in and out to get you used to the length that was already inside you.

“aaron,” you sighed, “give it all to me,” you pleaded at him through the mirror, “i can take it,”

he studied your expression, all needy and flushed as you tried to buck your hips further back to fill yourself up more, “let me know if it’s too much,” he warned.

you nodded eagerly but didn’t get a chance to reply as he shoved the rest of his length inside, the tip immediately hitting that one spot. you gasped loudly, the feeling of his whole cock inside you awakening a hunger inside of you, “fuck,” you moaned, dropping your hands so that you were resting with your elbows on the counter, “please, aaron. move,”

he hesitated for another moment, and just as you were about to look behind you, you felt him begin to move, pistoling his hips into your ass roughly.

you let out a shriek, your hands grabbing at anything you could reach in order to stabilize yourself as he began to mercilessly pound into you from behind. he slipped his dick in and out of you each time, your pussy hugging the veiny length each time he did.

the sounds your juices made due to you being soaked vibrated against the room each time his hips hit your ass roughly, and it only edged you on further.

“a-aaron,” you moan, breasts jiggling against the cold sink as the girth of his cock stretched you out, “aaron! oh, fuck!”

you thought you had felt good getting his attention when you were back flirting with the guy, but nothing could have prepared you for the feeling of his dick slamming into you.

from above, aaron grunted and groaned, fingers and nails digging into your hips harshly as he pounded into your perfect pussy. he loved the way you clenched around him, taking it back perfectly each time he slipped back in.

his hand reached for your hair, wrapping his hand around it and pulling you back until you were flush against him with your back still perfectly arched. he dropped his hand from your head to wrap around your neck, fingers digging into the sides.

you gasped, not having a choice as you looked at him through the now foggy mirror, the image of your body rocking with every smack against your body only adding onto the sensation.

“such a perfect pussy,” aaron grumbled into your ear, “this pussy was made for me, wasn’t it sweetheart?”

you did your best to nod regardless of how weak your body felt, of the way you could feel your slick drip down to your thighs or the way you were drooling from your open mouth, “belongs to you, aaron,” you mumble, surprisingly coherently despite the way he was choking you.

“yeah, it does,” he grunts, free hand coming to grab at your stomach again before pushing against the spot where his cock was evidently sliding in and out of you, making you squirm, “this greedy pussy belongs to me. not to that bastard you were flirting with, right, honey?”

you nod again, eyes stuck on the tummy bulge you currently displayed, your hole clenching at aaron’s cock even tighter at the way the indent disappeared when he slipped out versus when it reappeared when slipping back in.

“feels so good, aaron,” you mumble, saliva dropping from your lips and onto your pointy, practically rock hard nipples that jiggled with each thrust.

“yeah?” he asks, breath hot against your ear, “taking it so well for me, such a good girl,” he praises, hand leaving from your stomach to slither down to where your bodies connected.

you let out a squeal as his middle finger slipped through your finger and his index began to rub furiously at your swollen clit, the feeling making the knot in your stomach tighten and tighten.

you babbled aaron’s name like a loose mantra, bodies rocking together as he quickened his pace after realizing that you were close to orgasming, hand tightening around your neck and finger rubbing even faster than before.

“c’mon, honey, come for me,” he encouraged, “come all over my cock, pretty girl,”

it was all the confirmation you need to let yourself go, body shaking and aaron’s name being repeated as you chased the high, glad that he was holding you up with his hands as your whole body stuttered.

the feeling of your pussy clenching and unclenching around him violently made aaron groan, sweat dripping down his body as he began to reach his own high just from the way your body reacted to orgasming from his dick. from the way he was fucking you and from the way he was naming you as his own.

you could feel his pace falter from behind you, lazily meeting his pace as you tried to encourage him to finish, “come in me, aaron, please,” you whined, needing to feel him fill you up to the point where his come would leak out of you, “fill up my pussy, aaron,”

he gave you a look of unsureness through the mirror before you nodded at him, “i’m on the pill. it’s okay. please,”

that had been all the confirmation he need for him to finish inside you, his cock twitching inside you as his seed filled you up, making you moan as you rode out your own orgasm, still clenching tightly around him.

you giggled at the way his body practically toppled onto yours as he tried to catch himself, bodies pressed together as he held onto the counter with his dick still inside you.

he snaked his hand around the side of your face as his breath evened, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek and shutting up your whines as he pulled out from inside you with a kiss to your mouth.

“jack’s at a sleepover today,” he says after a few moments of silence.

you inch an eyebrow at him, watching as he leaned over to grab some toilet paper, snatching some off the holder before wiping himself clean of you and wincing at the sensitivity as he wiped gently at your own folds and thighs, “is he now?”

he hums, tucking himself back into his boxers and quickly buttoning his pants to help you put your own clothes on, “he is,” he grabbed your discarded shorts and parties from the floor and signaled you to lift your legs, “we can go home and i’ll wake you up with breakfast in bed and ask you to be go on an official date with me in the morning,”

your heart pulls as he buttons up your shorts for you, reaching for your shirt, too, “i’ll only say yes if we keep going when we get home,” you admit, making him freeze in his movements.

he pinched your nipple.

#marchhotchness #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid #david rossi #derek morgan #penelope garcia #emily prentiss #jennifer jareau #maddie’s stills

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thinkinonsense · 3 days

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idek if this counts as inspo but mean!logan slapping ur pussy..

cw: fingering, face grinding/riding, pussy slapping, mean!logan

"what did i tell you?" logan snarled, palm now coated in your slick.

the rough contact alone was enough to make your body shake but his voice? that had you throbbing.

"s-sorry." you whine as he gets back to playing with you.

the two of you had been at it for hours. logan loves to drag out his teasing until he's got you right on the edge of pleasure and pain. he's spent at least the past ten minutes making out with your cunt; licking and spitting on it until he was satisfied.

"where did my good girl go?" he asks in a condescending tone.

two of his soaked fingers, thrust back into you much faster than before. it was torture not being able to rock against his hand like you wanted to. that's what made him slap your cunt in the first place.

logan liked control in the bedroom; thrived off of it actually. he took time to study your body and find all of the little things that rille you up. he always priorities your pleasure over his. logan liked knowing only he could get you like this.

"kiss?" you ask sweetly. he couldn't resist your soft lips and you knew that.

"no." he smirks, slapping your cunt again before kitten licking your button.

"f-fuck, lo..." you gasp, fist full of the sheets.

"bad girls don't get kisses." logan mutters against the plush skin of your thigh.

"i'm not a bad girl." you frown at him as he nips at the delicate skin. his pace was relentless as he hit your sweet spot.

logan was far too preoccupied with your taste to respond. he could see your hips fighting to stay against the mattress. you looked so out of it that he decided to grant you some mercy.

"you aren't a bad girl, honey. just need to remember the rules." he coos, thumb replacing his tongue. "now, use me, pretty girl."

as if your prayers had been answered, you pull him back down and wrap your legs around his head. logan swears that your hips have a mind of their own in times like this.

"p-please... i'm s-so..." you squeal with tears of pleasure threatening to fall down your pretty face. "so close."

it was only at matter of seconds before you soaked the bottom half of logan's face. he could hear your heartbeat rapidly in your chest as he licked you clean.

"t-too much, lo." you whimper, pulling him away softly. logan places a kiss on your inner thigh before crawling up to kiss your lips.

"there's my baby." he says after pulling back to look at you.

no matter how mean logan could be at times, he adored you endlessly and made sure that you always knew it.

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erwinsvow · 8 months

Text

𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬

summary: how you and rafe got started <3

author's note: if i could stop losing my brain cells over rafe cameron for a minute that would be great but i can't so here it is <3 this is mostly cute but in the shea cinematic universe this establishes the beginning of what can only be a hopelessly codependent relationship <3 more parts to come! also none of this would be written without the surge of inspo i get from reading every single one of @princessbrunette's posts but in particular this one, this one, and this<3 one!

now spinning: one of the girls by the weeknd & jennie

Rafe’s always thought you were cute.

Cute, he’d think to himself in passing, on a hot summer day when he was getting ready to take beers from the fridge and go find the boys at the country club. He didn’t need to steal anything, the waitress at the club always gave him whatever drink he asked for, but he just felt like taking them from the house today.

You were dawdling around the house with a bored Sarah, all dressed up with nowhere to go. Sarah was texting on her phone, likely engaging in a virtual fight with Topper. He’d feel bad, but the two of them did it to themselves. You were at the counter with Wheezie, leaning on your elbows while the two of you discussed something. He didn’t really care, until he met your eyes for a second.

Cute. The way you met his eyes and then looked away, face heating up. You were in a bikini and a coverup, probably waiting for his sister before spending the day on the beach or at the pool. The cover up was white and see through, covering everything to the point where no one could see anything but the faint yellow of your bikini underneath.

Leaning on the counter, when you looked away, he got a glimpse into the top of your dress. He could make out little yellow flowers on the material of your bikini and the outline of your tits squeezed against each other.

He grabbed a beer and opened it with his back tooth, spitting the cap out on the counter next to Wheezie’s book.

“Ew, Rafe, get your spit molecules away from my book.”

“Who reads in the summer anyways? You should be glad for my spit if it makes you stop.”

“It’s my summer reading, Rafe, not everyone can just skip their assignments and get away with it.”

“Please, what have I skipped?”

You and Wheezie turn to look at each other and start laughing. He cracks a smile too, unexpectedly.

“Actually, it’s a great book. You’re missing out, Rafe,” you say, with a smile gracing your face, and he realizes he’s never actually heard the sound of your voice. You’ve maybe said hi to him twice, and both times Sarah had dragged you away within seconds. You even sound cute. His name on your tongue sounds even cuter.

“Really? Maybe I need to give it a try.” You laugh again, meeting his eyes this time.

“You can’t have my copy, I already put my annotations in this one-“

“Stop yapping, Wheeze. I’m not gonna take yours.”

“Actually you have a copy in the library upstairs. I borrowed it last summer.”

“Really, kid? Wanna come find it with me?”

Your face heats up so much you turn away. He smiles then, and he smiles again when you follow him up to the library.

“This one is fantastic too, it’s about this young girl in England-” your voice continues to describe the plot of the book in your hand. You shelve it and then your eyes immediately land on another, another classic, another favorite. You ramble off the description but Rafe’s hardly paying attention.

He’s trying to recall when you had become so cute, so pretty. He thinks he’s never noticed you after you walk away with Sarah, or when he walks away from you two lounging on pool chairs, your nose in a book like always.

This is different. When had you become so irresistible?

Your pretty hair falls down your back. It sticks to your neck when the two of you are outside in the sun, in the heat. He has an urge to lick the sweat off just to see how you’d blush and feel how you’d squirm. Your eyes are warm and bright, but you’re still too shy to meet his blue ones, even when it’s just the two of you.

And it has been. Just the two of you, recently, almost all of the time. Sarah’s always off with her stupid friends and Wheeze is at home doing her summer work.

The two of you travel to every ice cream parlor in the eight in the next few weeks. Conversation comes easily, even though you have nothing in common. He hasn’t picked up a bag from his dealer since he started talking to you, he realizes. Hasn’t felt the need to get high.

You’ve never even smoked weed, much less snorted coke. You’ll drink at a party with Sarah, but not too much, and you always end up being the sober friend holding back the vomiting girl’s hair. At the bonfire that he invites you to, your eyes keep darting around, seeing if anyone needs your help.

Rafe moves so he’s standing right in front of you, blocking your view.

“Hey, kid,” he says quietly, leaning in. You’re boxed in, with Rafe and only Rafe on your mind. The clean, attractive scent of his cologne. The way it lingers on his clothes, like the button up you’re wearing over your pink dress.

He picks up the red cup in your hand and places it on the log beside you, balancing his beer next to it. His hands are cold from the bottle but you don’t mind much. He takes your wrists first, holding them in place, and then slides down so your hands are touching.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” You were looking down at the hands, where the two of you were connected, but his voice makes you look up. He’s looking at you, and you want to hide your face. Your fingers twitch beneath Rafe’s grip. He holds on even tighter. “Don’t look away, princess. We gotta work on that, huh?”

You feel your face heating up at the nickname. You wish you were home so you could scream into your pillow.

“Sorry, sorry,” you scramble, trying to look up but you can’t find the strength or the will.

You’re embarrassed. Of course you are—this is Rafe, and you’re just you. Rafe is the one you’ve had a crush on since you knew what crushes were, and you are still the awkward little thing you were the first time you met him.

His gaze burning holes through you makes you want to run and hide. Because this is Rafe, and right now you’re one of his girls. The ones Sarah’s complained about the whole time she’s known you—they get too attached, act all clingy, and then are replaced before long.

You hear Rafe’s quiet laughter. You’re still boxed in, feeling hot and clammy even though he’d given you his button up not thirty minutes ago because you felt cold.

“What’re you saying sorry for?” You look up quickly, and then look back down. Then Rafe’s hands leave yours, and he holds up your chin until you’re looking right into his eyes. “Hmm?”

You feel like puking.

“I-I just, well I just-”

“You just what?”

“I don’t think I can be, um, be one of your flingy, uh fling-type girls. So, you know, maybe all of this isn’t a good idea.”

“Fling-type girls?” he questions. He’s holding back a laugh, which makes you irrationally upset. You shove hard against his chest to free yourself from the cage of his arms.

“Yes, your fling-type girls. You have a new girl on your arm every week, and everyone knows it, and I refuse to be one of them, because it’s just embarrassing and dehumanizing,” he watches you ramble on. He smiles, but you don’t notice. “And frankly, I deserve better than that.”

“Are you done?” You glare back at him.

“Yes, and not because you said that. I was done anyway.”

“Good.” Your face drops for a second, thinking you overstepped and totally overreached regarding his intentions, but then Rafe surprises you—he leans in and kisses you.

You weren’t expecting a playground peck, but the way he’s kissing you completely surpasses any and all expectations (and fantasies) you’d dreamt up. His grip on your hips is hard, and his tongue is almost down your throat. It’s messy, and wet, and when he pulls away, there’s strings of spit connecting you to each other.

You should wipe your mouth before anyone sees, but you don’t. Your heart is racing, and you can barely speak, much less move.

“If I wanted you to be one of my girls, I wouldn’t have spent the last three weeks listening to you blab about books and buying you ice cream. You’re gonna be my only girl, and that’s that, okay?”

You nod dumbly—words and motions still not quite back yet. You feel flushed. People’s eyes are on you both.

“Now, do you wanna head out and go get a cone?” You nod again. “Good girl. And watch your mouth.”

#eeeeeee #im so nervous about this #anyways if you liked it lmk <3 #the characterization is hard fdsjnajfnj #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks

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yulin-pop · 15 days

Text

⤷ ✧ 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐌𝐞𝐬𝐬

order 85 | scenarios | Riddle, Leona, Azul | Gender Neutral

❀ NOTE: Can you guess what my inspo is? (In English class my nose randomly started dripping blood)

Small description of blood (nosebleeds specifically)

➺ Riddle Rosehearts

It happened at the worst time, during a small tea party with Riddle. With Trey serving tea and all these little pastries you felt like nothing could go wrong.

You felt something come out of your nose and you sniffle, just dismissing it until it doesn’t stop.

“MC…” Riddle gives you a harsh look.

It was sorta embarrassing when Riddle gives you that look. “Sorry sorry maybe something triggered my allergies!” You cover your nose and then you look down at your hand, you understand why he was staring.

Riddle rushes over to you with a hand towel and presses it against your nose while he leans you forward.

“Does it hurt? Are you okay? What did you do??” He continuously asked questions one after another.

Even after you insist you’re fine and nothing in particular caused it, he’s adamant on keeping an eye on you.

“I think you need first aid…” He says while staring at you from the other side of the table.

“Riddle I’m fine—“

“I can’t let you leave, maybe you need a check up.”

༻ Leona Kingscholar

You were talking to him, you weren’t there to talk to him because you wanted to but you just owed Ruggie a favor and he asked you to get Leona and bring him back at Savannaclaw.

He was laying on the floor looking the other way while you stared down at him. “Look, Ruggie really needs you.”

“He can wait.” He grumbled.

“He said right now. Seriously he sounded really concerned when he sent me.” You tried to reason with him.

You went from politely asking, getting angry, whining, then to just pleading. Throughout the entire time he didn’t look at you once.

In the middle of your sentence you sneezed, you felt something drip out of your nose and you quickly covered your nose with your hand.

“Bless you herbivor…” he trailed off and turned his body towards you.

“Sorry this is kinda gross.” You said while covering your nose more.

“You’re bleeding.”

“It’s alright this will go away.” But it just kept going, with his napkin you had no idea what to do.

He stared at you trying to clean your hand up and also your nose until he had enough. He mumbled under his breath before picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder.

“I’m only doing this because I don’t like the smell of blood. Let’s go to the infirmary.” Though when he said that, you couldn’t see the look of concern on his face.

⊱ Azul Ashengrotto

He was locked up in his office as per usual but you had some business to deal with. You had a temporary deal where to work for Mostro Lounge for money just for a week. Despite being a temporary employee you had the same expectations.

“Azul, please…” You bowed deeply to him. “Just let me go home early.”

“I don’t see why. It’s only been 3 hours and you have 2 more. Why not just finish off your shift for today.” He replied back with a displeased look.

“Because I have homework! I need those hours for studying.” You argued. He simply rolled his eyes and returned back to his paperwork.

“Very well, if you leave though you are terminated and won’t receive any compensation for the hours you’ve worked this week.” He said calmly with a smug look on his face.

You were about to grab him and shake him around. Until you sneezed, you covered your sneeze with your arm and held it there, feeling something was wrong.

“Your sleeve, that’s not sanitary for customers. You should get changed.” He grabbed a tissue and held it out to you. You removed your arm away from your face and stayed silent.

He almost yelled, key word almost, and stood up rushing over to you. “I don’t think this is normal for humans?! There’s so much blood…”

“Sorry I didn’t mean to get the uniform dirty.”

“I don’t care about that.” He abruptly said, “You need first aid.”

Even when you protested and guided you into his seat and pulled out the first aid kit.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst #riddle rosehearts x reader #riddle rosehearts #leona kingscholar x reader #leona kingscholar #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul ashengrotto #twst housewardens

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pennjammin · 18 days

Text

my, my, what big teeth you have!

JJK HALLOWEEN! tojixreader

to sum it up ❥ your infuriating roommate has a freaky little secret, and it comes to light when you walk in on him cleaning blood off your apartment floor - coincidentally, after an oversized wolf had just saved your life.

“I know his claws come out when he’s close” 🥴

song inspo: kno one - kevin gates

CONTENT: gvn violence, and they were roommates, paranormal!toji, modernau, mean af toji, werewolf!toji, masochism, pain kinks, degrading/degrading nicknames, overstim, afab!reader, enemies to luvrs, creampie, male receiving, thigh riding, banter.

word count. 9k

@cafekitsune divider <3

“Fuck, kiss me, Toji.”

You feel your hands tangling themselves in the material of his shirt. It’s almost like you are being controlled by strings, like you’re out of your body watching your limbs move on their own accord.

“D’ya even know what y’sayin’ right now, brat?” Toji questions, raising an eyebrow at you, his eyes watching your hands travel over his body.

“Did I fucking stutter?” you grit, softly hitting the large man on his solid chest.

“‘M not gonna turn y’down, but you better remember this tomorrow,” he snaps. “I don’t wanna hear no shit about me taking advantage of you, lil’ girl.”

You roll your eyes. “I will, now quit being a pussy.”

“Yeah, okay,” Toji grunts before gripping you harshly by your throat.

His palm nearly crushes your windpipe as he squeezes the pulse on the sides of your neck. Now with his hand on you, he can and does yank your face towards him. He starts off by biting your bottom lip, pulling a noise from you, which he laughs at.

“Needy bitch,” he says with a demented smile. “Haven’t even done nothin’ yet.”

You lift your hand up to hit him again but he takes his free hand and slams yours back onto your lap. At the moment you gasp, he plunges his lips onto yours. A deep, rough kiss that says he doesn’t want to treat you nicely or make you feel good - he just wants to use you.

But luckily for him, the feeling is mutual.

You groan in frustrated lust, kissing him back harshly for a moment before he begins to move his kisses across your cheek and along the shape of your jaw.

You allow him to do so, not that you have a choice with his hold on your throat.

He loosens his grip and slides his hand down a ways to give himself better access to kiss your neck.

You feel him grunt as he licks the sensitive skin, which makes you whimper, and then he immediately nicks you with his teeth. You let out a soft chirp before he silences you with another wet kiss.

“Well, that was fun,” he says against your mouth, smiling wickedly as he breaks away from you and drops his hand. “But let’s not get carried away, puss.”

You scoff at him before standing up furiously.

“Fucking cockblock,” you growl at him, before storming off to your bedroom, where you help yourself pop the bubble of fire that had grown in your stomach.

You make sure to moan loudly to let him know exactly what he’s missing, and he appreciates it, as he stands outside of your bedroom door and strokes himself to the beautiful noise.

As you cum, there’s only one sentence burning in your mind: You hate Toji Fushiguro.

SIX MONTHS LATER. HALLOWEEN NIGHT.

“Mother Gothel is the victim in Tangled.”

Gojo, your friend, drives you and the lot of your friends down a dark, winding hill. You're on the way home from a party and he's the only one sober; unfortunately this means he’s very obnoxiously himself and trying to push your buttons.

"Here we go," groans Shoko in the back seat.

"Satoru," a voice scolds - Geto. "Please shut the fuck up."

"I will not until you all agree with me," he holds up a long finger, matter-of-factly. "She just wanted her youth. I mean, who doesn't? Then here come these greedy sons of bitches who dig up the WHOLE flower - like, they couldn't just take one petal?"

You groan from the passenger seat and rub your temples. "She tried to kill like, four people throughout the span of the movie, Satoru."

"Yes, because they made her into a villain!" he argues passionately. "She never would've-"

And that's where it ended. The conversation, the car ride and the last normal night of your life.

Nothing but a bright beam of headlights, Satoru shouting as he attempts to swerve, brakes screeching, and then the clang of metal as you drive straight into the guard rail, all four of your bodies lurching forward.

"FUCK!" you distantly hear Satoru shouting, though your ears are ringing to the point you don’t even hear yourself crying out.

The car comes to a jolting stop, and the headlights outside do as well, shining bright in the faces of everyone in Satoru's car.

You glance around and see that everyone is okay, just a little shaken and disturbed. That’s when you jump to get out of the car - nerves aflame.

“Y/N, you could be injured, you shouldn't-”

Geto's voice grows distant as you storm around the mangled car, and your eyes land on a tall blonde and a shocked ginger boy.

"You stupid fucking bitches," you shout, pointing an accusatory finger in the air. "How the fuck didn't you see us?"

A door slams as Gojo gets out of the car to join you, appearing unscathed, except for the fact that his face is still and he has gone quiet; like cracks under ice.

"No, why the fuck were you driving in the middle of the road?" the blonde accuses back, stepping closer, but ultimately maintaining her distance.

"I was not, it was a curve," Gojo grits out. "There's literal signs that tell you to be aware of the curve, because you cannot see what is coming. Your stupid is showing."

"You-"

"It's the middle of the fucking night," you cut her off. "Don't you know you could've sent us flying off the mountain and killed us all?"

The blonde smiles, “You think I have a problem killing people, bitch?”

You lift your hand, balled in a fist, ready to approach the girl, but her hand is already at her hip. Everything happens in slow motion: you notice the black piece in her hand as she raises it into the air. You see her finger pull the trigger. You hear yourself, and your friends screaming. You see a flash of black and white.

The gun goes off, a sharp silver bullet flying out of its barrel. Several moments pass and the air grows quiet. The screams are gone and so is the sound of gunshots.

You take your hands off of your face and look around slowly. You're sure your adrenaline cannot be that high, but you know you can’t feel the gunshot wound.

Then, when you glance up, you see a wolf - not just any wolf, but one that’s pushing the size of Gojo's car.

Gojo begins shrieking and so does everyone else, while you are staring in silent astonishment.

The wolf makes a huffing noise and then you notice it nearly fall to the asphalt, before shaking its head and charging at the girl with the gun.

Her screams of terror pierce the air as she tries to pull the trigger again, but her gun jams.

"Let's get the fuck out of here," she shouts to her compadre, and the two of them scramble into the car, before pulling off while nearly running over you and the wolf.

“Well I'm glad your car still fucking works!” Gojo shouts after them, leaning against what is left of his vehicle.

You rub your eyes, trying to allow your brain to catch up to the series of events that have just taken place. When you do, you see that the wolf has disappeared. Not so much as a trace of fur or a drop of blood.

But... you can't help but wonder what kind of cosmic joke it was that this wolf had just blocked you from a bullet? Almost like it had a conscious, like it knew who you were.

Your body shakes with fear, and your adrenaline sinks you into painful withdrawals.

Geto and Shoko get out of the car and run to both you and Gojo; Shoko taking you into her arms and Geto patting Gojo on the shoulders, asking him if he is okay.

Minutes later, you hear sirens and see flashing lights. You vaguely recall being lifted into an ambulance, but after that, the next memory you have is waking up in a hospital bed, where you are told you have a minor concussion. Then, you get discharged at six in the morning.

A horrible fucking night that had been. Though you passed out for several hours in the hospital, you feel like you've gotten absolutely no sleep. Your body aches and your bed calls your name.

As you clamber in the front door, you realize that you might have disturbed your grouchy roommate. But surely, once you explain to him the hell you've just went through, he will take it easy on you.

Not. You can’t see that man having sympathy at all.

When you finally make it inside, you hardly expect to find what greets you.

Your roommate is very much awake; dark locks shadowing his face, on all fours in nothing but bottoms - dirty, ripped sweatpants. He seems to be covered in filth himself, black spots on his back and arms, mixed with sweat. You grimace.

"Toji?” you say, clearing your throat to get his attention.

He glances over his shoulder at you, but doesn’t stop what he is doing. “Morning.”

You realize now that he is on the floor because he is scrubbing it; his hands hold a soapy sponge that is stained red.

"Why are you cleaning at seven in the fucking morning?" you question, as he hardly cleans in general.

"Trying to keep our security deposit," he grunts, digging his fingernails harder into the wood. You suspect he is not so much scrubbing harder as he is trying to hide his frustration with you.

“Okay…” you say, suspicious. “Did you spill something or what?”

"Spill," he repeats; a low, condescending chuckle punctuating it. "Something like that."

You blink at him. There's something you must be missing, or he wouldn't be acting like that. Or maybe he would. He always talks to you like he thinks you are stupid.

"Anyway, how ya' feelin'?" he asks, redirecting the subject while lifting the sponge to examine the floor - which now that he has moved, you can see is covered in red streaks; some darker than others, like they are older.

"I..." you tilt your head to the side. "I feel fine. Why?"

"That crash looked pretty bad," Toji adds, brows furrowing at the spot that remains on the wood. "Took you a while to come home. Thought you died."

You stare at him, surprised he cared. "Well, you certainly didn’t bother to double check. How'd you know about the crash?"

He turns to look up at you then. "Contrary to popular belief, I do watch the news. I like to see what dumbass things my lovely fellow citizens have gotten themselves into from day to day."

"We were on the news?" you put a hand to your head. You don't remember anything between the wolf and being put in the bright ambulance, not newscasters or anything; but you’re sure Satoru had been eating up the chance to be on live TV.

"Listen, if you're going to stand there and keep asking me stupid questions, at least make yourself nice to look at." He rolls his eyes. "You look like you were hit by the car.”

You ball your fists in frustration, "Oh, you have room to talk. You look like shit yourself.” You feel your body tingle with anger. “Since you think I’m only asking stupid questions, riddle me this: why the hell are you cleaning blood off of my floor, Fushiguro?"

Toji suddenly freezes before he twists his body and pushes himself up to stand. You are tall, but he still towers over you, head nearly rubbing against the hallway ceiling.

You do not cower; instead, your eyes rake his bare torso, unwillingly, and you dig your nails into your palms at the embarrassment you feel. You always gawk at him against your will, daydreaming, ever since that night…

But your eyes come to rest on the large, maroon-crusted gape in Toji's rib cage, and your eyebrows raise to your hairline.

"A man saves your fucking life, and you're worried about a little blood," he gruffs, squeezing the sponge in his hand so tightly that a mix of blood and water is now spilling back onto the hardwood.

He doesn't seem to notice.

“Saved my life?” you ask with a dopey blink, before realizing what he means and shrinking away from him. “You… you were the- the-”

"The, the, the," Toji mocks with his tongue out, tilting his head from side to side tauntingly. "Yes, stupid girl. I took that bullet for you. A silver bullet, might I add, which is why it's taking me forever to fucking heal."

He rubs his hand over the spot and winces. “I bled for hours before my strength started to come back. Didn’t get the chance to shower, either.” He grimaces but you are hardly worried about his hygiene now.

You gulp instead. Your brain flashes memories: the sheer size of the animal as it jumped in front of you, the way it almost fell to the ground after withstanding the bullet, the screams of terror. Your brain goes stark with the overwhelming amount of questions you now have. How did he know where you were? Why the fuck is he able to turn into a wolf?

"You look like a doe in headlights," Toji quips. "Surprised that lycanthropes actually exist? That you've been living with one.” He laughs dryly. “Utter filth to you now, aren't I?"

"N-No," you shake your head quickly, unaware of what exactly you want to say. Normally you would make a quip that he’s always been utter filth to you but the words die in your throat; this is no joking matter.

Toji is mean to you, but he's never hurt you. You always thought he just treated you that way so you wouldn't try to be his friend. It had definitely worked, but now you know the truth behind his actions.

"Right," Toji scoffs. "Not even a thank you, huh?"

"I'm really sorry," you shake your head, still trying to process it. He’s a werewolf. A fucking. Werewolf.

Your head has been running since the moment of the crash. Everything’s happening so fast. What exactly are you supposed to say? Every time you thought you'd gotten a grip on your new reality, something else happens. It had not even been twelve hours since the start of it all.

"How did you know where I was?" you start, trying to pick a single point to build from.

"I Marked you," he shrugs, as if that is not only common knowledge, but also not a big deal.

"What?" you spit.

"Do you recall several months ago when you came home very drunk and we..." his fingers dance in the air as he searches for the word. "I kissed your neck?” He pauses and you nod slowly. “Well, y’were probably too fucked to remember, but I grazed you with my teeth. Not enough to Turn you, but just to claim you, so that I always know where to find you.”

"What?” you repeat the same astonished word as it is the only one that truly conveys your emotions. “You did that so you can fucking track me?”

"So I could protect you," he grunts. "But you're such a bitch. Should've just let you get shot and killed."

He rolls his eyes and bulldozes past you, heading to the kitchen. You follow him. He lets out an exasperated breath, but you could care less that you are annoying him.

"Why would you want to protect me?" you question. "You hate me."

"Exactly," he nods. "I hate you so much that I don't want anyone to be responsible for your harm, or death, except f’me."

You hear the sarcasm in his voice and it makes your blood simmer under your skin.

"You're such a dick," you scream. "You couldn't even ask me before you put some stupid spell on me?"

"It's not a spell," Toji corrects. "And you'd have never gone for it if I'd asked. Sorry, your highness."

"You are so..." you run your fingertips into your roots and scream again.

"Shut up before I give you an actual reason to scream." Toji places the sponge down in the sink and washes his hands before tapping his wet fingers on the countertop.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" you hiss. "You just go on and on about stupid fucking nonsense. First you tell me you're a fucking werewolf, or whatever you are, I don't know! Then you say you put this possession bullshit on me, and now I'm not even allowed to express my fucking feelings about all of it."

Toji laughs. He actually fucking laughs, a piercing crack that makes even the shadows recoil in fear.

You’d been standing between the kitchen and the front door. A whip of motion blur and your spine is hitting the wood of the door. You gasp harshly, a vein on your neck beginning to throb.

Toji tilts his head to the side and laughs at your speechlessness.

“Pathetic human girl,” he snaps. “What would you do without me watching over you?”

You gasp and look up at him, digging your nails into his arms, but it doesn’t even make him flinch.

“I would be just fucking fine,” you spit.

“You sure about that?” he hums. “Don’t know if you’d survive the ghouls and beasts that want your guts for dinner, y’know.” He clicks his tongue before wetting his scarred lips. “Eh, who am I kidding? I don’t give a shit - jus’ like the way my Mark looks on you.”

Your neck throbs again, a searing pain that feels like someone is putting out a cigarette on your skin.

You tilt your head to the side. “Do you? Or do you just like having a permanent reminder of kissing my neck?”

Toji’s body shakes as he laughs at you again. “I could kiss your neck again if I wanted, stupid girl.” He leans forward and huffs out warm breath over the hot Mark on your neck. “Y’know you want me to.”

Your voice gets caught in your throat. You hate this sack of shit so bad. So then, why are you purposely arching your back a bit so that your torso and stomach rubs against his?

“Not if you’re going to keep putting spells on me,” you grit defiantly.

“Brat, it’s not a spell,” he groans. “For fuck’s sake, I grow two times my normal size and gain an obsession with the moon. I don’t practice fuckin’ hoodoo.”

You roll your eyes. “Then you must want me to yourself. I mean, do all lycanthropes have the ability to Mark someone? Does it make you jealous to know someone else could have Marked me?”

Toji is silent for a moment, his eyes avoiding your face. “Fuck no. I told you it’s for your protection.”

“I think you’re lying,” you say tauntingly, lifting your knee up to gently brush the front of his sweatpants. “Oh, is that a gun? Or y’just happy to s-”

“Shut up, brat,” Toji hounds, voice now a few octaves deeper, body twitching slightly at your sudden contact.

You smile, feeling accomplished in knowing you’re getting to him.

“So Toji does feel other things besides anger,” you hum. “Jealousy, possession…”

“Hatred,” he snaps. “I fucking hate you. Hate, hate, hate. Don’t you get that? All I think about is how fucking much I hate seeing your stupid human face.”

You click your tongue, “All you think about is me? Cute.”

He growls again and then backs his body away from you, closing his eyes and shaking his head, dark locks falling on his forehead.

"I need a shower," he says off subject. "You do too. You smell like shit."

You narrow your eyes before dropping your hands from his arms, realizing they'd been unnecessarily lingering. "Are you implying you want me to shower with you?"

"Not even close," Toji turns his back and begins down the hallway. "Don't project your own desires onto me."

And then, he disappears.

When you go to take your shower, you do some pondering under the hot water as it washes away the memories of the last day.

Toji, a werewolf. That would explain his inhuman, sculpted body and height. You wonder, how long has he been one? Is he immortal?

You think of him, in his full wolf form. He had been huge. You wonder if he ever partially transforms and walks around as a human with fuzzy ears and claws. Your stomach tightens at the thought of that, and you smack your head under the water. Don’t be a weirdo, you tell yourself.

You’ve never denied yourself of thinking about Toji. He’s a beautiful man, physically, with his big, squishy pecs and tuggable hair and full lips. You just can not stay turned on for long enough when you remember how awful he is to you.

Except right now, that seems to be turning you on more. He’d saved your life, even if he is mean to you every other day. So no matter what he says, he doesn’t want you to die. Well, that much is obvious with his silly protection situation. Your neck throbs again and you think back to the night he kissed it.

You can barely remember the feeling of his lips ghosting over the skin, before he slid his soft tongue over a vein and then politely sunk his teeth into the flesh. Like a recovering addict tasting a hint of a drug just to get them by.

Your hands have stopped scrubbing your body with your loofa. Now you are hugging yourself and gliding your hands down your sides, imagining Toji’s much bigger ones in their place as he drags that tongue down your whole body, Marking you all over if that’s what he wanted.

You open your eyes and gasp. Snap the fuck out of it.

You hate Toji Fushiguro, remember?

Well, of course you do. You hate the way you don’t hate him, not even a little, not even at all.

Hours pass and you have both successfully showered. Toji emerges from his room, late that night, rubbing his eyes as you sit on the couch and watch an evening show. The lights in the living room are quite dim; plus, it’s dark outside, so the shadows on his face make him more intimidating than usual.

“So, y’smell any better now?” Toji quips, joining you on the far end of the couch, spreading his legs so violently wide that you have to cross your own so as to not touch him.

“I showered hours ago,” you groan. “If you weren’t locked up in your room you’d know that.”

“Well, I am nocturnal,” he says with a yawn. “I was up entirely too early this morning. You know, after saving-”

“My life, I get it.” You roll your eyes. “Are you ever going to let it go?”

“Not ‘till I get some proper gratitude,” he declares, tapping his chin. “Now the price has gone up, I’ll need something better than ‘thank you, big daddy.’”

You feel your eyes widen. “I would never fucking call you that. Ew.”

Toji chuckles. “A shame, really.” He leans back farther into the couch and angles his body to face you. “So, are y’ready to discuss the subject of payment?”

“Yep,” you nod. “How about I doctor your wound and agree to cover the security deposit?”

Toji’s mouth twitches before he slowly lifts up his sweatshirt, revealing that the bullethole in his chiseled ribs is now faded to a slight pink scar.

“Too late, and frankly - they’ll have to catch us first if they want that deposit,” he shrugs. “Keep tryin’, brat.”

You cross your arms. “What d’you want? An expensive dinner?”

“I see, y’tryin to call me broke,” he smiles but it’s laced with venom. “I’m going to give you one more try before I show you what I want. Then it’s fuck all of this useless chitchat.”

You blink, a little afraid. He’s not looking at you any differently than usual but your stomach still turns. Now that you know his secret, things have changed. You already knew you could never take him in a fight but - now you know for sure that he can kill you.

“Um…” you scratch your arm and glance at the floor, “I really don’t know, Toji. What the hell do you want?”

His hand bolts out at the speed of light. He grins at you and his canines have suddenly gotten dangerously sharp; his eyes also glow a bit in the slight warm light.

You gasp as he pulls you closer to him by your shirt collar.

“Always runnin’ that stupid mouth of yours,” he grits. “Unfortunately, it’s gonna be kinda hard to speak with dick in your throat.”

You blink up at him, the awful way he’s degrading you sending heat signals between your legs. You hate that he has this effect on you; God, you hate him so much.

“Ah, you think I can’t still talk shit with my lips wrapped around your little guy?” you tease, gripping his wrist with one of your hands, digging your knees into the couch for stability.

“Don’t know, wanna find out?” Toji questions, meeting his face halfway to yours. “Don’t you wanna show me how grateful you are, little brat?”

You bite your lip and raise your chin defiantly. “I don’t think sucking you off’s gonna be enough,” you purr. “But if that’s all you want…”

Toji’s glowing eyes darken back down to normal, but his teeth remain sharp and his thick arm outstretched in front of you has bulging veins that hadn’t been there before.

“Needy brat,” he cocks his head to the side. “Y’can repay me however you want, right after I get my end of the conditions.”

You nod. “Deal.”

“Now,” he snaps his fingers with his free hand and pulls your shirt until you are forced to be on all fours next to him. “On the floor, brat.”

You gulp suddenly as he lets you go and you slide onto the hardwood, knowing your poor knees are going to be exhausted by the time you are finished.

You sit on your legs and wiggle your way between Toji’s knees.

As you adjust yourself, he pulls his sweatshirt over his head, and you have to swallow the most feral growl that threatens to erupt from within you.

Like always, you gawk at him, but this time you make it as obvious as possible. Your little cunt is pulsing with desire now, as you take in the way he’s looking down at you over his lap.

His lip curls as he notices your stare, “I took that off so you can stare at the reminder of why you’re doing this.” He points to the scar on his ribs. “I don’t save human lives for nothing, brat. You better show me exactly why you’re so special, why you deserved it.”

You blink up at him, mindless. His eyes are mesmerizing you, more than usual. He’s so alluring, his skin glistens under the light. You aren’t sure why you hadn’t given into your desires before now.

You slide your palms over the tops of his thighs. He leans back on the couch and stretches his arms across the back, watching you in silence, the only noise being the tv behind you. Your hands make it slowly to the waistband on his pajama pants, before you tug it down just enough to see his v-line and the little bit of hair that resides on his groin.

“Aht - we don’t have time for all that teasing shit,” Toji grunts, but he must not think you can see the tips of his fingers dug into the couch. He likes it.

You tilt your head to the side and continue to pull the band slowly - while Toji slightly rolls his hips up to help you get it down.

“Not even wearing underwear?” you gape, realizing there is not a second band under his pajamas.

He’s still staring at you but now he’s got an arrogant smirk. “I’m a man who likes to plan ahead.”

You roll your eyes, trying not to let him annoy you when you feel so incredibly good. At last, you yank down the band, and what pops out makes your stomach recoil in fear.

His cock effortlessly jerks up and rests against his stomach, almost halfway up his abdomen, barely able to hold itself up due to it’s obvious heft. The tip is already wet, dribbling clear precum, like icing on a cinnamon roll. The length is so perfectly peach with a beautiful pink-brown head. It seems to call to you like a high class delicacy.

Toji’s laugh cracks you out of your trance.

“Y’look so cockdrunk, babygirl,” he coos, taking his hand and grabbing himself at the base and holding it up for you.

You adjust yourself, as you now cannot sit on your legs because of how long his cock is. You have to get all the way up on your knees, where you plant your hands back on his thighs and lean forward.

“It’s so…” Big. Pretty. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

Toji shakes his cock in his hand, “I believe in you. Just take it slow.”

Is he being… patient? Gentle even? You don’t like this, not one bit. You want him to tell you to shut up and put it in your throat.

“Okay, put it in,” you say, parting your lips wide with the tip of your tongue sticking out - ready to slide it underneath his cock.

Toji obeys instantly, taking his free hand and pushing your head down to meet his the crown of his dick. When your mouth makes contact, it doesn’t take more than a third of his cock before your mouth feels full.

You furrow your eyebrows and look up at Toji, who’s took his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Slow,” he reminds, entangling his fingers in your hair but not applying any more pressure to your head, allowing you to take the length at your own pace.

You close your eyes and dig your nails into his thighs before forcing as much of the cock down your throat as you can, pushing saliva out onto the skin and closing your lips on it.

Your tongue has extended and is now flicking dangerously on the underside of his dick, as you now feel you’re in a position to start bobbing your head.

You do so, slowly, slurping noises blocking out your tv show, spit dripping all around the veins on his cock before pooling on his groin. Toji’s head has fallen back into the couch, he’s let go of his cock now and keeps the other hand in your hair.

“Don’t fucking stop, baby,” he says.

Your pussy practically purrs upon hearing a name as soft as ‘baby.’ Sure, he had called you babygirl but it was sarcasm. As much as you enjoy being called a brat, you know you’ll need to hear that baby name more often.

You continue to slide your head up and down, jaw parted, tongue gliding under. You bring your mouth back to his tip and swirl with your tongue, lathering more saliva, watching as it foams and drips down his cock. You take your hand and, using your spit as lube, stroke the bottom half that you just can’t fit in your mouth.

“Fuck, who taught you this, ma?” Toji groans from above, thighs squeezing your sides. You swear you can even feel them shaking a bit.

“Mmh-” is all you’re able to respond, putting your poor wrist to work to make up for your tired jaw. You don’t care, you like the pain.

You bring your mouth back to the top and release him with a pop, a glittery string of saliva connecting your lips to his cock, the entire lower half of your chin coated in drool.

Toji lifts his head up to look down at you. “Knew you were special, little freak. It’s not everyday I get brain like this.” He grunts and shifts under you, as your hand is still slowly stroking his veiny length.

You giggle before you reply, “It’s kinda funny to see you squirming like this. Toji, who always says he’s not anyone’s bitch.”

“Mm, and I’m not yours, either,” he hums softly, before sitting up quickly and yanking your head back with the grip he still holds on you, forcing you to look up at him.

His eyes search your red, wet face for a moment before he leans down and opens his mouth, spitting out a fat glop of saliva onto his own cock. Before it can even start to slide down, he’s shoving your face down onto the length nearly three-thirds of the way.

You make a noise of surprise and your hands shoot out to balance yourself. You shut your eyes tight as you try to keep your teeth bared back so as to not graze him as he uses the roots in your hair to fuck your face at his own rough pace.

“Damn, who’s who’s bitch now?” he cracks, jerking his hips up to meet your throat halfway, and now the tip is hitting the back of your mouth with a painful force. “Oh wait, I guess you can’t respond, huh? What did I tell you?” He laughs above you, voice deep, “Can’t talk shit with a mouth full of cock, lil’ brat.”

You groan around him and smack his bare thigh before you dig your nails into the skin. He hisses and lets out a deep, groveling moan that sounds animalistic.

You look up through your lashes and see his form shifting; his face is literally twisting in pleasure but also, his hair seems to be growing and shrinking, his teeth go from fitting in his mouth to his canines growing long and poking out from his upper lip, his ears go from human and round, to an awful, sharp point.

You realize he’s fighting back the urge to change, you’re doing him that good. Your eyes roll back in pleasure and you keep your nails in his thigh, leaving harsh red curves all over the hairy skin.

“Just like that, baby,” he says, nearly tumbling over his words, “‘M gonna fill your pretty throat, yeah? Want you to drink me up, then I’ll be satisfied. F-fuck.”

You furrow your eyebrows and try to lock in your focus so that your body or jaw doesn’t decide to give out right as he’s going to cum. You let him continue to use your throat for the pace he thinks feels best, humming around him to amplify his pleasure.

You aren’t sure how much time passes, but you open your eyes again to see that he has dropped one of his hands on the couch. You stare in horror as his nails shoot out: sharp and pointy and black, nearly ripping the fabric on the seat. He claws at the material right as you feel his cock twitching, veins pulsing harder.

His load comes quick, and harsh. He pulls himself out of your mouth just enough that you can feel the hot, salty spurts crash against your throat, filling your mouth to the point you have to yank his cock out in order to breathe.

You gasp and swallow on instinct, and Toji watches with glistening eyes.

His teeth, hands and ears have returned to normal. You start to feel your head throb with lightheadedness and wonder if you’d been imagining all of it.

“My, my, what a fantastic throat you have, my dear,” he coos, chest rising and falling as he, too, tries to regain his breath.

“All the better to suck you with, sir.” You grin and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand before rising to stand, stretching your legs and relieving your poor knees.

Toji stares up at you now, face angled down, eyes watching you through his lashes. “So, brat, do you feel satisfied with your payment?” he questions, tone a little lilted.

You tap your chin, pretending you don’t notice him sitting up and putting his hands on your waist, before parting your legs with his knee and sliding you over his thigh. You pretend you don’t feel your cunt throb whorishly in response to his touch.

“No,” you say curtly. “I mean, a man saves my life and all he gets is some head?”

“Y’read my mind, puss,” he grovels, hand coming down in a harsh crack on your hip. “I think, just for extra credit, you can slide me a lil’ something extra.”

You gasp in surprise when you feel his heavy palm hit your skin, then bite your lip as the sensation overcomes your entire lower half.

“What’s that?” you question.

He answers by snapping his fingers. You feel cold air hit your bottom and, looking down in horror you realize, oh no! your shorts and panties are missing.

“I-I thought you said you didn’t have magical techniques,” you shriek, shyly moving your hand to cover your bare cunt, as it begins to immediately drip down your legs without a protective barrier.

“Well, there could be two explanations,” he says apathetically, ripping your hand away from your groin and staring at you with an expression that dares you to put it back. “Either my technique only applies to you, because I Marked you. Or, I was lying about the number of explanations.”

He grins devilishly, and you realize you deeply miss the way his sharp teeth look poking out of his mouth. You try to shake the thought, but each time you look at him, you expect to see them.

You swallow thickly, “So what? You can control me, too?”

Toji’s mouth twitches but he does not deny it. “Why? Do you not want to do this?”

You realize, you kind of implied that Toji might have coerced you into doing this - but that isn’t what you meant.

“No, I do, I do,” you answer, a little too eagerly, and Toji’s face curls.

“Sooo neeeeedy,” he drags out, before plopping your bare cunt down on his thigh, making you shriek. “Well, I think what I want now is your pretty cream all over my thigh, ma, then after that, your pretty cream on my cock.” He digs his fingers into your hips as you have been rendered speechless, and drags you forward on his thigh, soft skin rubbing your aching little clit.

A small, ‘oh’ escapes your lips and your hands fly up to his hefty shoulders, gripping onto them.

“Yeah, just hold onto me, baby,” he grunts, sliding you back towards his knee and then up again.

“N-No,” you say, lip quivering.

Toji cocks his head to the side, nearly perking his ears.

“C-Call me those m-mean things,” you stutter, feeling the blood rush to your face as each word comes out.

“Oh, you don’t like when I call you baby?” Toji taunts. “You like being called a needy bitch, hm?”

You whine in response to him, instead of saying it out loud, but that’s not enough for him.

“What did I say?” he grits, smacking your thigh harshly after he stops grinding your hips onto his own.

“Y-Yes,” you yelp, “yes, I like it, Toji.” There’s something else you like, too. “H-Hit me, again.”

“Oh?” he hums tentatively, rubbing your poor cunt to shreds on his thigh again, all the while smacking one of yours - a red welp forming slowly. “Little slut of mine likes being bullied.”

He cracks a laugh, “Bet you were drippin’ in y’panties every time I yelled at you. Sick, y’know that?”

“Shut up,” you growl, yanking on his hair.

His eyelids flutter in pleasure, “Make me, brat.”

You know that you can’t, you absolutely have no power over this man who is double your size. Besides, you need him to keep talking, running that big fucking mouth, so you can cum all over him.

“That’s what I thought,” he purrs, smiling at you, before cracking a hard smack across your thigh again. Then, he shoves his fingers around your throat, gripping mercilessly as he pulls your breath from you. “Gonna cum already?”

You amateurly nod your head against his grip, which comes to be a mistake, as Toji uses the force of his other hand to keep your hips from moving any longer on his thigh.

You try to gasp but he grips your windpipe harder and drags you towards his face, torso pressed delicately against his larger one.

“Mm, nah, not on my watch,” he grits, pressing his thick lips against yours.

You’re so easily, pathetically distracted yet still, you whine as your orgasm is being denied, and Toji makes it even harder to ignore as his lips and tongue slide over yours.

You can feel the sharp points of his teeth growing, then he uses them to bite down on your bottom lip, forcing you to keep your face on his as he drops his hand from your throat.

Now, with both hands back on your hips, he starts pushing them over his leg once more.

You groan a thank you into his mouth as your throbbing clit gets fucked, leaving a slimey trail all over Toji. You use your feet planted on the ground to swirl your hips in a way that feels good, and now your stomach is tightening.

You huff and whimper into Toji’s mouth and at the very moment you think you’re about to reach your peak, Toji lifts your hips off of him and releases his teeth from your mouth.

“T-Toji!” you groan in frustration. “Why?”

“Y’didn’t think I’d give it to you that easily, huh, puss?” He flashes his teeth at you and you notice his hair has grown long again, eyes ablaze. He’s doing the shit where he only partially shifts again, but you are quite frankly more into it than you will ever say aloud.

“Yes, I did,” you say. “After my spectacular performance on my knees.”

“Yeah? Well, that was just to repay me for your life,” Toji says, examining his nails. “Now, I’m punishing you. If not for that temper of yours, she never would’ve shot at you, y’know. So I have to teach you a lil’ lesson, about runnin’ your fuckin’ mouth.”

You grunt at him and bang your fists on his chest, though he is not moved.

“Please, please, I’m sorry,” you whine. “Just let me cum.”

Toji pretends to think about it, “No.”

Then, he’s shoving your hips again, and again when you get just a little too loud - he stops. Then, you try not to make noise at all, but he can feel your needy cunt twitching on him, and he stops again. This repeats about three more times before he finally, finally keeps going as you get louder.

“If I’m gonna let you cum y’better give me a big one, lil’ brat.” His voice is deeper, as he stares at you with those animalistic eyes. “Y’gonna do that for me, needy bitch?”

Your head falls hopelessly against his shoulder as you wail into his ear, and before long your entirely body is convulsing on top of his. Your twitching pussy pushes out an orgasm so violent that you leave a sticky stream all over Toji’s thigh, heart threatening to erupt out of your chest, and the only thing left to do is hang on for dear life as Toji continues forcing your hips over his leg through your high.

You think he’s just helping you ride it out, ‘till you realize he isn’t stopping, but your poor cunt is already running sore.

“N-No,” you whine, tilting your head and digging your teeth into the side of his neck.

“Nah, y’wanted to cum soooo bad,” Toji shakes his head but you don’t notice his eyebrows knitting together, or his cock perking back up at the feeling of your teeth on him.

You huff and smack him plain across his face. An action you had not expected to do, one that almost felt invol-

“Toji,” you gasp. “Did you make me do that?”

Toji doesn’t respond. Instead, your arm involuntarily comes up and hits him again, and his cock jerks against your leg.

“Heh - and you called me a sick fuck,” you grit, sitting up, as Toji has finally slowed his movements of fucking your cunt on his leg.

“Takes one to know one,” Toji chuckles, dropping his hands from your hips.

Your next action is very, overwhelmingly voluntary. You pick your feet off of the floor and slide them down on either side of Toji’s. His legs are simply so big, that your ass and thighs are forced to sit on top of them. You’ll have to use your feet for balance instead of your knees.

Toji watches you in silence and you grip his cock at the base.

“You know I hate you, right?” you say suddenly, lifting your hips so that your cunt hovers over his tip.

“Show me just how much,” he hisses, arms moving behind his head.

“Hmph,” you mutter, before pushing his wet cock tip through your quenching hole.

Toji spasms, his entire torso nearly breaking away from the couch as his lips part in desperation.

It hurts so good, but you can take it. You slowly bend your legs to lower yourself on him, now your knees are angled in the air due to your awkward difference in size.

“Yeah, I hate you so fucking much,” he murmurs, and there’s no mistaking the feral, intimidating level of depth his voice has dropped to. “You don’t deserve to have such good pussy, brat.”

You roll your hips a bit forward, knowing you’ve managed to pull ahold of the control as your cushy walls engulf Toji’s throbbing dick.

“Don’t get attached, Toji,” you rile, lifting your palm before cracking it across his face.

He makes out a noise that is not quite a moan, but not quite a full on howl. “As if,” he mouths sassily, shaking his hips underneath you so that you slide the rest of the way down.

Now that you’ve gotten him all the way in, Toji’s prepared to take back control of your little hole.

“Took me so good,” he growls. “That was the easy part, let’s see if you can handle the rest.”

Your eyes barely have a chance to widen before Toji is driving you up and down, slowly but steadily, with his monstrous hands. You quench around him like an iron fist, and it shows in the way his stomach sucks in and writhes with pleasure. You use your knees to swirl, gushing more of your cunt’s lubrication all over his length.

He fills you up so nicely, and you wonder if his size is related to his… condition. You don’t really want to think about his wolf form, but you still feel yourself drooling at the thought of his claws popping out when he came in your mouth.

Sweat glistens on his chest, rolling down between his nipples. On his groin, there is a combined pool of cream and precum at the base of his cock, which sticks to your ass and splurges out a delicious sticky noise each time your cheeks clap against his heavy balls.

“Hit me again, Toji,” you mutter, and where his eyes had slowly been falling closed, they are wide again - glossed over in lust.

His hand whips up your shirt this time, and instead of hitting your hips or your ass, a fat palm cracks your breast and nipple in one blow. Then he cracks one on the top of your thigh.

Then, he lifts his hand towards your face with a pause, and you nod your permission.

Instead of smacking your cheek, though, he shoves his palm against your jaw and harshly presses his thumb to your lips. Cockdrunkenly, you part them and his thumb slides inside, immediately becoming encased by your needy tongue.

You swirl the finger and lather it in your spit, eyebrows furrowing at how good it feels to release your oral fixation on his hand.

All the while you still clap on him, knees growing weaker as they have slid down to the side. Toji watches you intensely, waiting for the buildup of his orgasm, ready to fill your cervix with his semen.

Your breasts, now free and exposed bounce in his face, cold air erecting your nipples combined with the stinging memory of his smack. It’s all too much for you to bear.

“K-Keep going, baby,” Toji requests softly, his mean side disappearing again. You don’t care, this may be the last time he’s ever nice to you. “Drag my cum out like a good lil’ slut.”

Your eyes are closed, your ears ringing. You hardly hear his request but you don’t stop what you’re doing.

Something sharp jabs your tongue. Your eyes pop open and, you see Toji, growling, ears sharp, hair overgrown nearly to his shoulders. You glance at his other hand and realize his claws are coming out again.

You pull his thumb out of your mouth and hasten your pace, quenching your muscles around him purposefully. He lets out a guttural howl and then, it isn’t long till heat pumps into your gummy tunnel.

You shake as your own second orgasm slips through your fingers, and a combination of your juices poor out of your stretched hole and right down onto Toji’s balls.

His teeth grow a little longer than they have the whole time, hair is strarting to replace the skin on his face. You shudder in fear and rip yourself off of his cock, where it falls limp on his sticky lap.

“Don’t worry,” Toji says through his quivers, “I-I can stop the change, jus’…” He lets out a painful grunt and then all of his skin returns to its normal hue, and his body retracts down to strictly human features.

You take a deep breath, and plop back down on top of him, this time resting your head on his shoulder as his cum drips out of you and onto your thighs and the couch.

The two of you breathe in silence for a moment, before Toji’s big arm wraps around you and he slides the two of you down on the couch - so that you are laying side by side, bare tummies and legs touching, every spot where the skin connects setting you on fire.

“I don’t really practice religion, but if I must say so myself, your pussy is a gift from God.” Toji’s words come out playfully and you find yourself laughing uncontrollably.

“Please shut the actual fuck up,” you say.

“Not kidding, brat,” Toji’s finger slides down your arm featherlight, an action so tender you find yourself trying not to think too much of it. “Seeing as I always know where you are, I may have to actually follow you around now. Make sure you’re not givin’ that shit to anyone else.”

You huff, “So what if I do? You hate me.”

“Yeah, alright,” Toji nods. “Neither of us believe that bullshit, puss. I Marked you because I want you to be mine. And you are, so don’t try no shit.”

You roll your eyes at him, intertwining your legs together. “You’re the dog, so technically, aren’t I the one who owns you?”

Toji growls and grabs your throat, “Don’t ever call me that shit again, brat. Maybe you need another round to get it through your annoying little skull.”

“My, my, what a big fucking mouth you have,” you taunt, tugging on his hair.

“All the better to eat you with, my dear,” he murmurs, and pulls your face towards his.

A/N:

I SAY AWOOOOOOOO BABYYYY 🐺 (toji ily u my everything)

this was intense mama i gotta go take a cold shower now ^.^

~pennjammin

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk fanfic #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #jjk toji #toji smut #jjk men #jjk fluff

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hansolen · 9 months

Text

one more love song?

pairing ⇾ luke castellan x hades’ daughter reader (gendered stuff isn’t mentioned anywhere in the post so it can be read as gn)

word count ⇾ 3k

summary ⇾ luke is a simp, tries to confess, you guys share earphones and sit near the lake at night. the moon loves you 🫶

author’s note ⇾ so most of this is just happened to be written as luke admiring the reader rather than what i was actually going to go for, but i’m really happy with how it turned out :) hope you enjoy it as well 💌 wrote this all in one setting. when inspo hits.. it hits like a truck 🚛 this one is for my quiet people, and maybe a little self indulgent. guilty as charged your honour. no use of y/n.

you had a thing for luke castellan, and he had a thing for you too. it was no secret to anyone. but none of the other campers understood why you both preferred to dance around each other’s feelings rather than addressing them. even though everyone could feel the immense tension you both carried around whenever you were near each other, no one chose to mention it. it would be like taking a gun and pointing the muzzle right at ones own head — it was a death sentence really, hearing you both deny it. so they all just went along with ignoring it like you both pretended to do.

you were the daughter of hades, the king of the underworld and part of the trinity. that definitely added a little intimidation to your already mysterious aura. luke on the other hand was a possessive guy, even if he didn’t show it. sure, he was extremely confident, and even a little egotistical - yes, but all for the right reasons of course (as per him). but he was possessive nonetheless. that’s why it killed him inside each day that he couldn’t call you his, and himself as yours.

he really didn’t like anyone else approaching you with any unwanted intentions. though, don't get him wrong, he's well aware that you could protect yourself. hell, you could protect the entire camp just by yourself alone, but still — he felt a pang of jealously whenever some apollo’s kid talked with you for too long. or when your discussions with some guy from the hephaestus’ cabin were too long. he knew that you guys were just discussing your plans for some of their inventions and how you could help by designing their ideas into structural sketches. afterall, you were good with sketches, a hobby of yours, those from cabin 9 made sure to utilise to their fullest. even though he knew it all, he still felt some unwanted feelings swirl inside him.

he wanted to confess to you, oh he wanted to do that so badly. but he just didn't know how to.. you didn't seem the kind who’d like the usual route. for the sake of olympus itself - you didn’t even send him any signs, other than meeting back his longing gaze with just as much passion. he knew there had to be something between you two. there’s no way it could be all in his head.

but you — you never tried to make the first move, shit, you didn’t make any moves at all. and luke knows he’s a confident guy, he knows he’s amazing and all that glory speech he gives around to the new comers but oh you. you just make him rethink it all. he doesn’t know how to act around you - he feels so different around you.

as if you put some kind of spell on him that makes him loose this carefully handcrafted personality, his façade. and he's back to being the kid he was - just trying to prove himself somehow in some way. but at least you never abandoned him.. nor did you ever make him feel unwanted. unlike his.. his dad. he doesn’t need to impress you, you’ve made that clear with your actions. but still he - he really wants to.

𓇚

he recalls back when you still pretended to be unclaimed and stayed at the hermes cabin. though later on (like a whole month later) everyone found out that you knew your dad was hades and you shifted to the newly made hades cabin. it happened in such a funny manner where you stated it to the suprised chiron like it was just another fun fact about you. totally not some very critical and important information. camp half-blood having a kid of one of the three and not just any but of hades, who was always so adamant on not sending his kids to camp that the gods had an entire incident regarding it. but here you were.

anyway that’s not the point. he just really liked you and had felt a pull towards you since the beginning. he observed you from afar during your first few weeks at camp. when it was your third week at camp and you had developed the constant habit of staying up every night and sneaking out. he followed, ofcourse he was just being a good head counselor. afterall till you were in the hermes cabin you were someone he had to make sure followed the rules or whatever. he didn’t care for that much, he just wanted to know what you were always up to.

you always hid away by the time he followed you out. he had made sure that this week, this day, he’d finally follow you without you hiding away in the shadows. of course you weren’t dumb either. you could feel another shadow added to the ones you were controlling, and you felt like having a little fun with the castellan boy. so you let him follow you. (and luke found out about that fact weeks later, and safe to say he was annoyed that he wasn’t slick enough. though he got back on you, he showed you just how smooth he could be during sword fighting practice. spoiler: by the end of the match you were under him with a sword pressed on your neck and his smirk making you feel things.)

back to what happened on your third week at camp - as he followed you he realised you were headed towards the lake. oh so this was your favourite spot. he looked at you from afar, you looked breathtaking.

the moonlight shined on your figure sitting by the lake. you were probably listening to some music, since you had your earphones in.

he held his breath, he wanted to carve this scene in his memory forever. you truly looked like a goddess, the serene view and a serene beauty (you). a perfect combination indeed.

after giving himself some pep talk mentally and encouraging himself to actually go to you, he finally did. and oh boy was he glad he did - because that was the start of your friendship, and something more.

he still fondly remembers how you smiled when he finally came and sat beside you.

“finally came out of your hiding spot, castellan?” you said in a light tone. “you knew?” he asked suprised, but not really. “i know everything that goes in the shadows.” you said and smiled while taking off one earphone and handing it out to him. he took it gratefully.

that day you shared an earphone with him and in return took a piece of his heart with you.

that was the beginning of whatever the hell was going on between you and luke castellan. he understood later on what you had meant by the shadows comment when a week later you had casually revealed who your father was and shifted cabins, much to luke’s displeasure.

but you guys remained friends nonetheless and continued to keep each other company on moonlit nights.

𓇚

he still remembers when you first came to camp. you were so eerily quiet. your presence drew him to you like a moth to a flame. your eyes felt like they held galaxies and whenever you met his gaze he felt his heart could explode. though you didn't smile often, but oh god’s when you did grin at some stupid lame joke he made, or when something silly happened, he just found himself falling deeper and deeper in love with you.

though he notices. he notices how you keep your smiles to yourself and put a hand over your mouth whenever you do laugh. the reason? he truly doesn’t understand. because why in the world would you do that? you’re the most gorgeous being to have graced this earth, why would you not let him get addicted to your smiles and the sound of your melodious laughter which is sweet like nectar and has the warmth of ambrosia. as he knew it was a rare sight, he made sure to capture the memory to replay it in his head whenever he misses you.

you're so beautiful to him and your presence is so comforting. the deathly touch your aura carries has makes it all the more breathtaking. oh he's in it bad. he knows it.

𓇚

both your secret meet ups began increasing as weeks went by. you both talked about everything under the sun (or the moon, in your case). and even though you weren’t much of a talker when you were in groups during the day, luke felt glad that atleast when you were with him you spoke your heart out.

you made him feel so much at ease. even with all his responsibilities at camp and his plans.. and everything else that eats up his soul — in moments such as these, he feels like just another teenage boy. not the kid who got abandoned by his parents, not the teenager who had to protect his friends and had to prove something to the gods, not the head counselor and the greatest swordsman to have been in 300 hundred years, but just- just another teenage boy, a boy in love. oh he loved you. so much.

and that's why he decided he was finally going to confess to you tonight. he was going to set up a beautiful moment and hold your hand while looking in your eyes and confess how much he adores you and finally ask you to be his.

he felt a little nervous, which is so unlike him. c’mon, he has fought innumerable monsters and survived so many deathly quests, how is finally telling you what he’s been wanting to since forever making him more nervous than either of those situations? oh the things you do to him..

when he reached there you were already sitting near the lake at your favourite spot. as soon as he came closer, you turned your head towards him with a soft smile and said, “hey you” “hey me” he replied. he doesn’t miss the way you put an automatic smile on his face, as he sits beside you. you both sit in comfortable silence, your bodies making contact from the shoulders. neither of you move away, finding comfort in one another’s presence and touch.

being a demigod was.. anything but a normal experience to say the least. but finding someone who makes you feel.. more closer to the human part of yourself was something not everyone could find. but you both were so glad you did with one another.

as moments passed by, luke felt you lean your head on his shoulder. he relaxed into your touch as he looked down at your face to find your eyes closed. he knew you weren’t sleeping, just resting. he found himself forming a small smile as he looked at you.

then he started, “you know, i wanted to tell you something today.” you hummed in response waiting for him to continue. “i..” he felt his throat dry up. it’s always so easy to talk to you, so why is it that right now he feels unable to form words? your presence is always so calm and serene so why does his heart feel like it’s going a million miles per hour?

“hey.. hey look at me” you said in your calm voice as you softly held his face. he met your eyes, and oh he swears he could just get lost in the galaxy that lays within your eyes. you look at him with you sweet smile and say, “you can tell me anything, you know?” “i know.” his reply is almost immediate. you just smile at that “then go on”.

he closes his eyes to compose himself. he knows that he doesn’t need to pretend with you. but he also wants to tell you everything he feels for you and how you’ve taken all over his body, mind and soul. but he can’t formulate them into words. he just— “i love you too castellan.” “what” “what? you were trying to confess right? i only helped you.” you said smiling softly at him. “i.. well i..” he was dumbfounded. he had thought of so many ways this would probably go and the many ways he could say it but you.. you said it first.

“is that a pout?” you ask with a giggle. he feigns offense, “i do not pout.” “oh that was definitely a pout.” you teased. “it wasn't.” “oh it so was.” he rolls his eyes. “whatever. i just wanted to make it romantic or something i don't know. i mean i even got you a cassette tape with songs i dedicated to you and—” “you dedicated songs to me? and got them in a cassette tape? how even- when did you get the time to get that done? did you go out of camp for-” you said suprise clear in your voice but he interrupted you. “well obviously i dedicate songs to you infact they were so many that i had to choose the best of the best. and how i got the cassette and the player is just part of the trade secrets, darling.” he winked. and you just giggled and kissed him.

luke had imagined kissing you before, but it was never as close to the real deal. he was addicted to say the least. your lips tasted so sweet and felt so soft. for being the kid with the aura of death, you sure brought back life to him.

by now you were on his lap with his arms wrapped around you. you both were just sitting on the grass and taking in each other's presence and feeling peaceful with how close your hearts were.

slowly you took out your earphones from your pocket and gave him one wire. “so, one more love song?”

author's note ⇾ aand that's the end haha. hope you liked it <3 this is my first fic ever like everr and i didn't even think i’d be able to write something that i would actually wanna post, but something in me lit up when i saw my favourite childhood book series was finally getting the adaptation it deserved and then this came out of it <3 would love to know your thoughts on it.

#𓇚 kalopsia #luke castellan #luke castellan x you #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #percy jackson #🏹 acara writes #luke castellan oneshot #luke castellan x y/n #percy series #percy jackon and the olympians #charlie bushnell #pjo x reader #pjo tv show #pjo series #pjo

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cntrlnoah · 2 months

Text

Photoism

Summary: Rafe’s shy girl wants to take photobooth pictures with him on a date.

Pairing: Rafe x shy!fem!reader

Warning: food mentions, kissing, Rafe being a tease, nicknames (sweet cheeks, princess), Rafe flipping off the camera

A/N: sorry it took so long. got really busy with work. hope you enjoy! (^з^)-☆ idk if all of y’all know photo booths work cause each one of different so I took inspo from the photo booth in my Koreatown and how it works 🤍🤍🤍

Little dates with Rafe are common. Whether it was getting boba from the newest tea shop to something a bizarre as paint ball. Rafe loved surprising you with cute little dates.

Today was no different as he took you out on a trip to Koreatown. He wanted to try the new fried chicken place people were raving about. It was in this food gallery like place. Full of cute decor and soft kpop songs playing on the radio.

On the corner of your eyes you spot a couple leaving the photo booth giggling as they hold a photostrip each. Something in you made you want to do it with Rafe but you were too shy to ask. As you both finish eating the fried chicken, Rafe made mental note on how your eyes lingered back to the photo booth.

As the two of you are nearly about to leave you finally gained the confidence to ask him to take some pictures.

“Hey Rafe…can we take some photo booth pictures be for we go?” you said very timidly. “It’s…just I’ve been eyeing the photobooth recently—” but before you can finish to it ramble explaining why you wanted to Rafe kissed you to shut you up.

“You know you don’t need to explain sweet cheeks. I’ve seen you eyeing that machine for a while. If it makes you happy I’m willing to do so” he says. As he says that your cheeks go red over the nickname and the kiss.

“Come on princess don’t go all shy on me now? We still have pictures to take” he says feigning concern but the smirk plastered on his face gave his real reaction away. As he says this you start to drag him into the photo booth.

Inside the photo booth was a screen which displayed a start button. As you click the button, the screen turns into the styles of photos you can get from 2 2x6 photo strips with 4 frames for $5 or 2 4x6 sheets with 6 frames for $8. You choose the option for $5 and the screen tells you to insert a $5 bill in the slot under the screen to begin. Rafe hands you a $5 bill from his Hermes wallet for you. As the machine takes the bill the screen mirrors the you and Rafe, letting you see what the poses would look like. You guys had 8 takes for poses and 15 seconds to do them.

The first pose you wanted to do was a cute one so you put your hands in the shape of a heart to you cheek, Rafe on the other hand flipped of the camera but before you could react the camera shuttered and you’ve used up on of the frames.

The next pose was you doing the same pose but Rafe this time following in suit.

After that, y’all did peace signs with both of your hands.

Each frame was different from silly to cute and much more.

For the last one, Rafe wanted to do something. He pretended to do another pose but right before the counter reached 0 he grabbed your chin and leaned you in for a big kiss. After pulling away from the kiss your face turned bright red.

“Rafe!” you whined. “What? Don’t tell me you didn’t like it princess. Come on let’s choose the frames before the timer runs out love” he states.

After he said that you both looked at the screen and looked over the poses you want. You choose the peace sign one first. Rafe says, “ we should do this one. I look bad ass.” He points to the one where he flips off the camera. “But it so vulgar”, you said. Rafe chuckles as he heard you say that. “C’mon princess, I’ll let you pick the next one okay?” Rafe says. You nod as you pick the one where you both did the hearts.

The last photo was the one you had struggle with. Do you choose the silly one with both of you sticking out your tongue or the cute one where you both did animal ears? Rafe then butts in, “We should do the last one where we kissed.” You looked at the last one and blush.

“But it’s so unexpected I don’t look ready” you said. Rafe just smirks, “You’re not supposed to look ready. That’s why it’s good. Plus the kiss was pretty nice.” “No it wasn’t” you said blushing like crazy. Rafe looks you up and down, “Don’t lie to me princess. I like it so I’m choosing it” he says clicking on the photo.

After that you got to choose the frame, you went with the pastel pink and blue ombré frame. You both waited for the photos to print and got out of the booth enjoying the rest of the day around town.

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virgoilluminati · 2 months

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can u please write a jude fic where your in a talking stage and he comes over and you both make out for the first time 🤭

It's been a long time coming...

A/N: this is my first request in absolutely ages so tysm you have made my day ✨❣️ As I am now unemployed (😜✌️) i have a lot of free time before i head back to university. So please if anyone has any ideas lmk 🥹

Inspo: Jude and You have been close friends since high school, but after one very drunken night, you admit your feelings for him, right before he leaves for the euro's. When Jude arrives home, he has only one goal, to give you that kiss that you've been waiting for.

Oh, you had royally fucked up.

So royally fucked up that you probably shouldn’t leave the house for at least the next two days, perhaps a week, even a month.

You’d told your best friend that you liked him, in a sweaty club, the night before he was going to the Euros. With the drink loosening your tongue, you blurted it out without thinking. The look on his face said it all; he was stunned into silence.

You and Jude had known each other since high school. He was in the year above you, but you both shared a huge interest in football. While he played for the boys’ squad, you played for the girls’. You got really close in the last year of high school as he began prepping for the under-21s football team while you were preparing for university. You became each other’s anchor, someone you both could rely on, no matter how tough it got. You told each other absolutely everything. So when you blurted out that you liked him, it was as if you had shattered an unspoken rule.

You had been drunk. That was the justification you were giving. You didn’t know what you were thinking; you couldn’t control what was going through your head. You couldn’t face him, not now. The memory of his expression replayed in your mind, a painful reminder.

You had sent him one text message, mentioning nothing about the incident, just wishing him luck in the Euros. Maybe he’d just forget it even happened. After all, he was pretty drunk too.

You had spent all morning preoccupying yourself with your uni work, taking the dog out for a walk, cleaning your room… basically anything to distract from the impending apocalypse. But it was pointless; every other second, you would check the blue tick on the message, with a simple “read” underneath it.

Hey, I hope the head isn’t too sore from last night ahaha. Best of luck in the Euros, I’ll be screaming your name at the local, love ya. (Read)

His response came about three hours later. In that time, you had gone through all five stages of grief. First, Denial: you denied that you even told him, that it was a huge mistake. Anger: you were angry that no one stopped you, as it was an open secret between all of your friends but him, but they had let you blurt it out. Bargaining: maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, you know. You could just say it was a mistake or you didn’t remember. Depression: this would be the end of your friendship—that he’d no longer look at you the same way ever again. Acceptance: your life was doomed, and that was the end of it. However, when his response came, you hadn’t actually prepared yourself.

Yeah, my head’s fine ahaha, though I think you drank more than me in the end. Currently on the way to the airport, Trent says hi. Pretty nervous about the Euros, I can’t lie.

You sat there staring at the three dots, wondering what else he was thinking. You cringed at him mentioning your drunkenness. He not only knew but he must’ve remembered. Oh god, this was going to be awkward.

You didn’t respond, noticing the frequent three dots on his screen going rapidly on and off. Sighing, you attempted to make a joke, quickly sending back a response.

I’m sure Trent is feeling it right now ahaha, how many shots did he have last night again? Don’t be nervous, you’ll be ace!

His reply came almost instantly.

Enough to need a new liver, I’m sure. Thanks for the vote of confidence. We’re about to board, talk later?

You couldn’t help but feel relieved. He wasn’t addressing your confession at all. Maybe he really had chosen to forget about it. Or perhaps he was giving you a way out, a chance to pretend it never happened. Either way, you seized the opportunity.

Sure, have a safe flight! Catch you later.

With that, you put your phone down and took a deep breath. Maybe this wouldn’t ruin everything after all. For now, you’d focus on the positives: Jude was still talking to you, and you still had your friendship, even if it was a little shaken.

The next couple of days were a whirlwind of activity. Jude was swamped with training and media commitments, so your interactions were mostly confined to texts. Despite the busyness, he made sure to check in frequently, sending you updates and little messages that kept the connection alive.

After the Slovakia game, which they won in a nail-biting finish, you received a call from Jude. You could hear the adrenaline in his voice, the excitement of the victory still fresh.

“Hey,” he said, a little breathless. “Did you see the game?”

“Of course I did! You were amazing! That last-minute goal!" you replied, unable to hide the pride in your voice.

“Thanks. It felt good out there tonight. The fans were crazy. Nearly thought we were goners—"

"Nah, I knew you'd pull through."

"Really?" His voice sounded hopeful, as if he had more to say, but instead, he coughed and continued talking. "Uh, listen, there is something I need to talk to you about.”

Your heart skipped a beat. “Okay, what’s up?”

“I haven’t stopped thinking about what you said."

"What I said? When?" you responded, your heart beating faster by the minute.

"The night before I went, about you liking me. I thought I could just put it aside and focus on the tournament, but… I can’t.”

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding in your chest. “Jude…”

“No, let me finish,” he interrupted gently. “I’ve been trying to figure out how I feel. And the truth is, I like you too."

Tears pricked at your eyes. “Really?”

“Yeah. I hope you don't mind, but I told Dec and Trent, and after they completely humbled me, they made me realize—I think I've always had a bit of a thing for you. It’s just… I don’t want to mess this up. I don’t want to lose what we have.”

“You won’t,” you said, your voice trembling slightly. “We’ll figure it out together. One step at a time.”

There was a moment of silence, then Jude let out a breath. “Okay. One step at a time. I like the sound of that.”

For the rest of the night, you talked about everything and nothing, letting the conversation flow naturally. The tension from the confession began to dissipate, replaced by a sense of hope and excitement.

The next game was against Switzerland, and you decided to go out to the pub to watch it with a couple of your pals. The place was buzzing with excitement, filled with fans donning jerseys and scarves, and the energy was infectious. As the match began, you found yourself nervously scanning the screen for Jude, your eyes automatically seeking him out every few seconds.

Your friends, of course, noticed.

“Honestly, if you stare any harder, you might burn a hole through the screen,” teased Sarah, nudging you playfully.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the blush that crept up your cheeks. “I’m just… making sure he’s doing okay.”

“Sure, just making sure,” Mark chimed in with a grin. “We all know you’re head over heels.”

“Guys, can we please just focus on the game?” you said, though you couldn’t help but smile.

As the match progressed, every time Jude touched the ball, your heart seemed to leap into your throat. You could hear your friends’ comments in the background, teasing you about how intently you were watching him.

“There he is again, Y/N! Are you taking notes on his every move?” Sarah laughed.

“Come on, give her a break. She’s just a supportive friend,” Mark added, though his tone was dripping with sarcasm.

You tried to ignore them, but the truth was, they weren’t entirely wrong. You were more invested in Jude’s performance than anything else. When he made a particularly brilliant pass, you couldn’t help but cheer louder than anyone else.

“Wow, you’ve got it bad,” Sarah remarked, shaking her head in amusement.

The game was intense, with both teams playing aggressively. Jude was in top form, making crucial plays and demonstrating why he was such an asset to the team. As the game neared its end, with the score tied, the tension in the pub was palpable.

Just then, your phone buzzed with a message from Jude.

Jude: Gaffer gave us 5 minutes, couldn't wait any longer to not text you.

You: What are you doing?! You're supposed to be on the pitch.

Jude: I think this is going to penalties, I feel it.

You quickly typed back, trying to infuse your message with as much confidence as you could muster.

You: Don’t worry, you’ve got this. I believe in you.

There was a brief pause before his next message came through.

Jude: Listen, how about this: if we win, I’ll take you out on a date.

Your breath caught in your throat, and you stared at the screen, rereading his words. A date. With Jude. Your heart was racing now for an entirely different reason.

You: Deal.

The penalties were agonizing to watch. Each kick, each save, each miss, had the entire pub reacting in unison—groans of despair, cheers of relief, gasps of anticipation. You were barely breathing, your eyes fixed on the screen as if willing the ball into the net with sheer force of will.

Jude stepped up to take his shot. The pub fell silent. You could almost hear your own heartbeat. He took a deep breath, ran up, and kicked. The ball sailed past the goalkeeper and into the net. The pub erupted in cheers, and you jumped up, your shout of triumph mingling with everyone else’s.

The penalties continued, and finally, it came down to Trent. The pressure was immense. If he scored, England would win.

The pub fell silent again as Trent prepared for his shot. You could feel the tension in the air, your heart pounding louder than ever. He took his position, focused, ran up, and kicked. The ball flew towards the goal, past the goalkeeper, and hit the back of the net.

The pub exploded in cheers. People were hugging, high-fiving, and celebrating. You couldn’t believe it. They had done it.

Your phone buzzed again.

Jude: We did it! Can’t believe it. Guess I owe you that date ;)

You couldn’t stop smiling, your heart soaring with pride and excitement.

You: You were amazing! We're so proud!! I can't wait x

Jude: Trust me, I’m looking forward to it. See you soon, Y/N.

You spent the rest of the night celebrating with your friends, the victory and Jude’s promise keeping your spirits high. Amidst all the revelry, one thing was clear: your relationship with Jude was about to take a new and thrilling turn.

The next few days were a whirlwind of emotions and excitement. Jude’s team had just secured a 2-1 victory against the Netherlands. The pub you were in was filled with joyous celebration and raucous cheers. You knew Jude would be over the moon, and you couldn’t wait to hear from him.

Soon enough, your phone rang with an incoming call from Jude. You stepped outside, away from the pub’s noise, to answer.

“Hey, Jude!” you answered, your voice bright with excitement. “Congrats on the win!”

“Y/N!” Jude’s voice was noticeably slurred, and you could hear the background noise of a lively celebration. “I can’t believe we did it! We actually won!”

“I know, it was amazing!” you said, smiling. “You were incredible out there.”

“Thanks!” Jude’s words were slightly jumbled. “I’m just so… so buzzed right now! Remember when we were kids and we’d dream about moments like this? It’s really happening!”

“I know, it’s like a dream come true,” you said warmly.

“And you were always… so pretty, you know? I never really understood why you’d hang out with me,” he continued, his voice full of affection. “Everyone loved you, and I was just this goofy football guy.”

You felt a blush rising. “Jude, it didn’t matter. We had so much fun together.”

“Really?” he asked, sounding genuinely surprised. “I always thought… thought you were too good for me. I was just this guy with a big dream, and you were this amazing person who could have been anywhere.”

“Well, I was where I wanted to be,” you said softly. “With you.”

Jude’s voice grew more tender. “I’ve always admired you, Y/N. Even back then, I was captivated by you. The way you carried yourself, the way you looked—it was like you had this light that drew me in. I was always amazed by how stunning you were, both inside and out.”

You could hear Bukayo’s voice faintly in the background. “Jude, mate, turn the phone off. You're pissed-"

Jude chuckled, though his tone remained affectionate. “I can’t help it, Bukayo! Y/N, you have no idea how incredible you are. I mean, just thinking about you—how beautiful you looked back then and how stunning you still are—drives me crazy.”

You couldn’t help but smile at his words. “Jude, you’re making me blush.”

“I’m just speaking the truth,” he said earnestly. “You’ve always been this amazing person, and I’ve been lucky to have you as a friend and now… maybe something more.”

You felt a warm flutter in your chest. “I’m really glad we’re sharing these moments together. It means a lot to me.”

Jude’s voice grew more serious, though still a bit tipsy. “If we keep winning, I want to make sure we celebrate together. I can’t imagine doing it without you.”

“I’d love that,” you said, smiling. “For now, enjoy the celebration. You’ve earned it.”

Jude’s laughter was warm and content. “Alright, I’ll let you go. But I’ll call you again soon, okay?”

“Sure thing. Enjoy the rest of your night, Jude,” you said.

As you ended the call, you couldn’t help but smile. Jude’s heartfelt, tipsy confessions and the sound of his celebration had deepened your connection, making you realize just how much you both meant to each other. The future felt full of promise, and you were excited to see where this new chapter would lead.

When England lost 2-1 to Spain, the crushing disappointment was felt by everyone, especially Jude. As he and the team made their way back, he couldn't shake the feeling of defeat.

You, back home, had been anxiously awaiting any word from him. After a few hours, you decided to check in, hoping he was doing okay.

You: Hey Jude, are you alright? Just wanted to check in.

A few minutes later, your phone buzzed with a message from Jude. The text was brief, but the words were heavy with the weight of the loss.

Jude: Not great, honestly. It's been a rough night.

You felt a pang of sadness reading his message.

You could picture him, lost in thought, longing for comfort.

You: I'm so sorry, Jude. I wish I could be there with you too. You wanna hang out tomorrow? Watch a crappy horror movie and crash on my sofa?

The reply came back quickly.

Jude: Sure. I could use a little cheer up. I'd better go, journalists want a chat before we board.

You stared at the phone, hoping your words brought him some measure of comfort. You knew how much this loss meant to him, and how hard he had worked for this moment. The idea of him being alone in his thoughts broke your heart a little more.

You wanted to do something special for him, something that would show him just how much you cared. An idea started to form in your mind, and you sprang into action.

First, you pulled out his favorite hoodie from the closet. It was slightly oversized on you, but it felt like a warm hug. You wore it while you tidied up the apartment, making sure everything was perfect for when he got home.

Then, you went into the kitchen to start cooking his favorite meal. The process was therapeutic, each stir of the pot a way to channel your nervous energy. As the aromas filled the room, you felt a little more at peace, knowing that you were doing something to help him, even from afar.

As the hours ticked by, you kept checking your phone, hoping for any update on his flight. Finally, a message popped up.

Jude: Just landed. See you soon

Your heart skipped a beat. You quickly finished setting the table, dimming the lights to create a cozy atmosphere. You lit a few candles, their soft glow adding a touch of warmth to the room.

When you heard the key in the lock, you rushed to the door, your heart pounding with anticipation. As the door opened, there he was, looking exhausted but so incredibly relieved to see you.

Without a word, he dropped his bags and pulled you into a tight embrace. You held him close, feeling the tension slowly drain from his body as he buried his face in your neck.

"I missed you so much," he whispered, his voice cracking with emotion.

"I missed you too, Jude," you replied softly, running your fingers through his hair. "I'm so glad you're home."

He pulled back slightly to look at you, his eyes filled with gratitude. "You have no idea how much this means to me. Thank you."

You smiled, cupping his face in your hands. "Come on, I made your favorite dinner. Let's sit down and talk about everything."

Later on, after you had let him get everything off his chest, you decided to watch a movie, something that would probably become background noise. As the movie played, you and Jude sat side by side on the couch, the tension between you that seemed to dance in time with the flickering images. You could feel the heat of his body next to yours, and every time your arms or legs brushed, a jolt of electricity shot through you.

You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye.

He was staring at the screen, but you could tell his mind was elsewhere. The furrow in his brow, the way his jaw tightened, the constant fidgeting-he was still wrestling with the aftermath of the game.

You wished there was something you could do to ease his mind.

As if sensing your thoughts, he turned to you, his eyes softening. "I'm sorry I've been a grumpy sod."

You smiled, feeling a flutter in your chest. "No, don't be. I'm your friend!" You smirk a little as you made eye contact with him for the first time that night. "I'm just glad you're here."

The movie continued, but the air between you grew thicker with unspoken words and emotions.

"Listen. About what I said-"

"We don't have too-"

"No we should! Because, i know I've been swept up with all of the euro's but- I meant what i said. I like you."

"I like you too."

You could feel his gaze lingering on you more frequently, and each time you met his eyes, it was like a silent conversation passed between you.

"Do you remember the last time we watched a movie together?" he asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

You chuckled softly. "Yeah, you fell asleep halfway through."

He grinned, the first genuine smile you'd seen from him all night. "I was exhausted. You have a way of making me feel very relaxed. Always have done."

"It's a very good thing," he replied, his voice low.

You felt a shiver run down your spine at the intensity in his eyes. The movie, now a distant background noise, was all but forgotten. The distance between you seemed to shrink with each passing second.

"Jude..." you began, but the words caught in your throat. "I-." His eyes looked up and down at your lips as you settled into his embrace. He looks for any uncertainty before he continues.

"You make me feel seen. Like I can't hide anything from you. It's scary really-"

"Is that so-" you smile, your eyes casting over his lips.

"Mhmm. You make me such a good person-"

"Jude, just kiss me already." You laugh. He smiles instinctively,

He reached out, his fingers brushing lightly against your cheek. "Can I...?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded, unable to form a coherent response.

Your heart pounded in your chest as he leaned in, his breath warm against your skin. The world seemed to hold its breath as your lips finally met in a soft, tentative kiss.

It was like a spark igniting a fire, the kiss quickly deepening with a hunger that had been building all night. His hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss grew more intense.

You responded in kind, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pressed against him, the kiss growing more intense. His lips were insistent, exploring yours with a desperate need. You could feel his heartbeat against your chest, mirroring your own racing pulse.

Jude's hands roamed, tracing the curve of your back, sending shivers down your spine. Your skin felt electrified wherever he touched, each caress igniting a new wave of desire. You gasped as his lips left yours, trailing hot kisses down your neck, nibbling and sucking gently at the sensitive skin.

"Jude," you moaned softly, your fingers tightening in his hair. He groaned in response, the sound vibrating against your throat as he continued his exploration, his hands slipping under your shirt to caress the bare skin of your back.

Your breath hitched when his lips found the hollow of your collarbone, his tongue flicking out to taste your skin. You arched into him, your body responding instinctively to his touch. The heat between you was almost unbearable, a consuming fire that threatened to engulf you both.

When you finally broke apart, gasping for breath, you looked into his eyes and couldn't help but smile. "Do you know how long l've wanted to do that?" you whispered, your voice filled with a mix of relief and desire.

Jude chuckled, resting his forehead against yours.

"Probably as long as I have," he replied, his breath warm against your lips.

You both knew this was just the beginning, but for now, the world outside could wait. All that mattered was the two of you, tangled in each other's arms, finally giving in to the desire that had been simmering between you for so long.

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