#anywho. enjoy. or don't. up to you.

[mutual-obsession]

Make the Distance.

Male 'Yandere' x You (Gender Neutral) little over 2600 words. Reader is wearing a skirt and makeup. if you associate clothes and makeup to gender- well. Don't think this needs many warnings? just 18+ It's been a while since you've been to this club. It's farther from your usual spot so only when you get the energy will you make the drive. Or let's be specific. When a certain person is here, you'll make the drive. 

You have some connections in the scene so it was easier to keep tabs on certain people if you wanted to.  Friends in high places, you could say.

You hadn't yet laid eyes on your babe but their car was in the parking lot. 

You hum and sip your drink before setting the glass down and trailing a finger around the rim.

Suddenly, the corner of your mouth is pulled into a half smile as an idea passes your mind.  You didn't come dolled up for nothing and you weren't just going to sit and wait. 

There is a perfectly good dance floor to dance on, and that's a reason why you're here.

Sliding out of your seat, you knock back the rest of your drink and stand. You were very particular on what you wore today. Fishnets covering your legs and stomach, a skirt, faux fur boot covers, 3 inch platforms, and a thin shirt that dropped off your shoulders and stopped just past your chest, exposing your stomach through the netting. 

Whoever is spinning tracks decided to mix in some 90s and 2000s R&B and hip hop and pop. You throw your hands up like you're victorious. This is perfect. You can dance to a lot of different styles but something about this time periods songs, Janet, Missy, EVE, Britney, and so many other spectacular artists who put out fuckin BANGERS. EUgh it was just so good. 

You weave your way through the crowd of people until you find a good little spot for yourself. It doesn't take you long to get into your own groove and headspace. You close your eyes, feeling the music and move to the rhythm. Your hips are swaying, your hands either over you or on you, trailing down in a move that makes sense with whatever is playing and you do this for a good long while until you feel a shiver run up your spine. You stop and open your eyes to look around quickly.

You feel like a wolf is watching you. 

Granted, many people have their eyes on you but you can feel the weight of this one's intensity and you shiver as another chill runs up along your shoulders and down your arms. You continue to dance though, but this time, you give a bit more of a show. Got to draw them out somehow, right?

Your own hands around your body get more tempting and more provocative. Especially when you make your way down or do that little bend and place your hands- Your movement is halted by a presence behind you. They’re not dancing, just standing. You lift yourself slowly and turn to look at them, smiling as you feel the way their eyes rake over you with a hunger. This is the intensity. You notice behind him though, someone actively backs off. 

You can't help your smile widening. "My ward~" You purr out and press a hand against their chest and you drag it down along their shirt. They don't speak, just keep watching and that's just fine with you. Another song kicks on and you're sure he can see the spark in your eyes light up in recognition as you do a little hop and remove your hand. You both stay in each others orbit as you get into it again and he acts like a wall between you and them. You're like this for a bit until you have the idea to check your makeup.

You grab his shirt and pull him closer then lean in and mention you're heading to the bathroom.

As you leave, you feel him right there behind you. Your guard dog~ The thought is darling to you. You enter the bathroom and quickly check your makeup, fixing it as needed and checking yourself before heading back out. To no surprise, he's still there and you walk over to a side table, beckoning to him as you pull out your eyeliner. He leans over and down, closing his eyes as you apply a light amount, smudge it, then tell him to look up and he listens and you smudge that as well. Smiling at your work you finally put the liner away. 

"Dance with me?" You muse. 

He seems to think about it but you both know he prefers to watch. You wave it away with a smile. Then one of your club friends comes up to you, leaning to shout in your ear that a cage is open and that couldn’t be more fantastic. 

You pull your ward with you and wave to your friend in thanks, flashing a smile.

The way the club is set up, its two floors. The bottom floor is shaped like a scrunched ‘H’. When you enter from one of the front side doors, you walk a bit forward and there is the bar, taking a spot in the top part of the vacant ‘H’. Then the dance floor takes up a majority of the room with a stage filling the other vacant part of the ‘H’ with cages on the side. Tall round tables and some booths line the sides of the wall. The top floor has private rooms, another dance floor, and more cages. Cages are either first come first serve or reserved for workers. Doing a quick glance you see the ones down stairs are filled so you head up. You start to weave through people again but this time, you’re pulled by your waist to stick closer to your ward so no one bumps into you. How sweet~ Making it over you see one of your other friends who works here and they spot you. They take their hand off the cage and step down the two steps, smiling and greeting you, exchanging formalities and thanking before they disappear into the crowd. You turn to your boy and grab one of the nearby chairs, dragging it forward for him before heading up the few steps and into the cage, closing it behind you. The cage itself is tall, sort of thin, with black bars. ‘Thin’ but it could fit about 4 people comfortably. As you start to sway your hips back and forth, he’s still standing, admiring, thinking. You smile and close your eyes to once again, find your own groove. This time though, you can use the bars to your advantage and you don’t have to worry about other people. You can grab the bars, press your body against them, play into some predator/prey dynamics, possibilities are endless~ You muse to yourself softly and smile. You did in fact, press your chest and back against the cage a few times. Once, holding a bar from above your head to pull your body flush against the cage before rolling your torso and hips against it. You opened your eyes slightly in that moment, noticing another person gazing at you from near the cage, taking your wolfs attention. Another time you leaned your shoulders against the cage and held a bar next to your neck for stability as you leaned back, letting your back arch. You rolled your hips, knowing exactly what this looks like. You think you hear something near you but you don't pay mind. You're in your own world right now. Eventually you get lower to the platform, swaying your hips, legs spreading a part as you're slowly dropping yourself down. You have limited faith in your knees to hold you which is why you don't do this that much anymore but this felt right. You finally open your eyes and as you look up you pause. He’s sitting. One leg crossed over the other. One elbow propped on the chair arm as he leans his cheek against his hand. The other, looking like they would tear into the fabric of the chair if his nails were sharp enough. His eyes, sharp and intense as he takes in every inch of you. Fuck, you’d love to see the thoughts roaming around his mind. 

You want to know how much he wants you. Feeling a little hot and devious, you pull yourself back up with assistance from the bars. Then you turn and bend at the hips, deliberately teasing him as you pull and push yourself with your other hand to move away and then against the cage a few times. You hear an exhale that sounds like a growl and you turn a bit, glancing over at him, surprised he’s still managing to hold it in. Ahh, this is fun~ You smile and quit your suggestive teasing as he looks like he could break the bars between you right now. You hum for a bit, thinking. About 15-20 minutes have passed since being in the cage and you think it’s time to head out. You open the cage and step down the steps. A few steps more and you’re in front of your wolf and he looks up at you. You flash a smile before leaning down towards his ear. “Think I’m going to head out for the night.” You then turn and make your way out, not checking to see if he follows or not but knowing he’s a few paces behind you this time as you make it through the crowds of people.

Once outside you both say your ‘goodbyes’. He makes his way to his car and you yours. Getting in you stick your key in the ignition and turn to start but when you do it makes a ‘rer-rer-rer-rer’ sound. It’s trying to start up but doesn’t. Your head tilts and eyebrows furrow. Getting out you pop the hood and lift it. You’ve never been good when it comes to cars. You look around but generally can’t tell what the issue would be. You click your tongue and slam the hood down. You cross your arms over your chest before looking in the direction the wolf went. Call it a bad idea all you want. You’re still doing it. You make your way to his car, knocking on the window and he rolls it down. “Heyy~ My car won’t start. Do you mind giving me a lift?” You give him a look and he reaches over to pop the door open for you. You smile and slide into the passenger seat. He doesn’t ask where to take you, He doesn’t need to. He's done this many times before. You’re heading to his place~

The drive is quiet and peaceful. Music playing at a low setting and it doesn’t take long for you to make it to where he lives. You get out and follow behind him. He unlocks the door and holds it open for you, allowing you in first. You smile at him and take the offer and as soon as you take a step into his domain, you’re slammed against the nearest wall as your breath is taken away by a rough kiss. The front door is kicked shut and he presses you between him and the wall, his fingers against the back of your head so it doesn't knock against the drywall. You appreciate him protecting your head when being slammed. You turn your head, pulling away from the kiss to breathe for a moment. He allows this and moves his mouth down, kissing your jaw and down your neck before dragging his tongue across your collarbone and smiling against you as you can’t help shaking from it. 

“You know...” Your breath freezes when he speaks and he moves up to press himself right next to your ear. “I’m glad you showed up tonight.” His voice was low and pleased, sounding like a purr. One of his hands wraps around your lower back and he pulls his other hand away from your head and runs it down your body. “I loved watching you perform for me.” You feel your face get hot and you can’t help the chills running down you. “But I didn’t like the close encounters of someone touching what’s mine.” You let out a soft moan and rest your head against his shoulder.

You know what he means. At other clubs you’re not usually like this. You stick to yourself or your group of friends and you are way more aware and cautious of who’s around you. You knew some people tried to touch and dance with you tonight but he was there. He wouldn’t let anyone get what they wanted and you love it. It’s the only time you can be a little more carefree. And then when the night is done, you get to be his for as long as you can. It’s wonderful. This is why you make the drive. You raise your hands and slip them into his hair before turning your head and press kisses to his neck and his cheek before looking at him. You feel a bit embarrassed and the red on your face is apparent. “Only for you.” Your voice shakes out and he looks as if he’s considering something. You know he loves to watch you dance and have fun. You know he loves to scare off any perceivable threat. He knows you track when he’s going to be there. And you know he’s the one who tampers with your car. You both are obsessed with one another and you can’t get enough of it. You’ll give him anything right now and he’s aware of it. He reaches his hand up and brushes some of your hair to the side as he thinks. “I love you.” He waits to see your reaction but doesn’t have to wait at all as you visibly melt against him and lean your face into his hand. Taking a breath you slowly formulate words, “Please show me I’m yours. Please mark me, own me.” You’re losing your composure and your words start coming out as little whines.  You want it so bad you ache and feel like you could cry. He smiles and pulls you away from the wall and towards his room. Once in he closes and locks the door before turning to you, hands on you as he tugs off your shirt and instantly goes to press more kisses down your neck and down your chest. Your hands wrap around him loosely as he leaves marks here and there. You can’t help the soft breathy sounds that pour from you and he chuckles. Making his way back up he cups the side of your head, pressing lips against your ear again. “Should I get you a collar~? Then everyone will know.” You let out a moan in response and shiver at the breath hitting your ear. You can’t stop blushing and your head is buzzing, completely pliable to his whims and your voice doesn’t want to work anymore. You’re standing one moment and the next you’re pinned against the bed on your stomach and his weight is pressing against your back, pressing you further into the bed with his hands and mouth roaming wherever they’d like. You love it, you love it, you love it. You don’t want this to end and you’re either going to stay with him like this forever or you’re going to need to start making your way up here more often. Or him to your usual spots. 'He did lock the door though', your mind purred at you. That’s something to think about when your mind is more together. Right now you're in multiple places. You’re pinned against the bed, You're somewhere on the floor next to the bed, and you're in the entrance way. You laugh to yourself and completely give into the wolf lovingly and blissfully tearing you apart.

[mbirnsings-71]

Hiiiii Madi 🥰 loved waking up to this Tag 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

💀💀💀

💍💍💍

🐺🐺🐺

👑👑👑

HI DEE <3 good I need to write and this helps me with all of them- I said this and then this took like multiple days for me to answer BUT I DID IT- I did it to varying degrees of success that's for sure-

9 sentences for ESRMT AU:

Scott stares at himself in the mirror and hardly recognizes who he's looking at. He's looked at his reflection before, don't get him wrong, but this is the first time he's actually looking at himself without a haze of grief and tiredness and a singlehanded purpose of getting Milo back being the only thing keeping him up and going; And what he sees in the mirror is deep purple bags under his eyes, features of his body permanently tinged green (his eyes, his cheeks, his ears, his hands...) and decaying (when was the last time he even felt something through his fingertips fully and not just have it be a dull and numb sensation?), and the ends of his longer hair taking on a much darker hue than the light teal color he's accustomed to. This surely can't be the same man who came back from his husband's funeral years ago. The man who's bloodshot and teary blue eyes still live in his brain, who had hair much shorter than he does now and only had the beginnings of tiredness showing in his features. He was so full of life, even if he felt like his life had just ended because his husband had passed on, and now here he is toeing the finest line between life and death, not knowing now whether he counts as alive or undead truly... It was disconcerting to say the least. He knows deep down it's still him and just a result of the choices he's made. Necromancy has a price after all, and he came to accept these repercussions ages ago, but it doesn't change how far he actually let it get before Tango stepped in and tried to get him to actually take care of himself. The fact the blazeborn had actually succeeded in the matter was a testament to his stubbornness and should've been a wake up call for Scott much earlier than it actually was.

9 sentences for WAADW AU:

It’s raining outside when Jimmy realizes just how late it’s gotten.  It all started when Him, Scott, and Tango had an afternoon lunch date. It was a nice date really, especially with it being on the one day a week all of them were off, and Tango had suggested they check out this new restaurant that’s right near Scott’s place and Scott apparently had heard good reviews coming out for it, so they all figured it was worth a try. Very well worth a try actually, because the food was delicious. Afterwards they had walked back to Scott’s place, Which Jimmy had intended to drive back to his and Grian’s place after, and well… They may have lost track of time really.  It’s not like he intended to lose track of time, genuinely, it just sort of happened. It started off with Tango sitting in his lap while Scott had to go take a phone call really quickly (which very quickly turned into kissing because Tango is a menace), then returning to huff amusedly at his boyfriends’ antics and asking if they want to watch a movie or something. One movie turned into two and it was by the third one that Jimmy finally had noticed the time. And the weather for that matter as he can hear the steady downpour of rain without even having to look out one of Scott’s windows.

9 sentences (or so) for Twicraft AU:

"I'm back! Ren?" Martyn calls out, dropping his keys in the little key bowl near the door as he walks into Ren's house. He's been to the place before, plenty of times actually seeing as he and Mumbo have stayed over countless times (Mumbo more so on account of he can't go out in the morning sun, thus essentially trapping the man in Ren's house until nightfall), yet it never fails to impress Martyn with how decorated and homely the place is, even just from the entryway. Pictures of Ren and the rest of his friends lining the tan wooden walls along with some small paintings and little hallway tables that have trinkets littering it; Some being more related to sci-fi stuff, some fantasy, and some just seemingly normal little tchotchkes that ended up there. It's nice and makes the place lived in to say the least. With the lack of response from the man in question, Martyn wanders into the living room, which again is decorated in a weird mixture of sci-fi and fantasy that only his boyfriend is seemingly able to pull off, to find a scene that is quite peculiar even for Ren's sake; Ren's in wolf form (which isn't the biggest deal because Martyn knows that some days Ren just prefers to be in wolf form more than human form) laying on the floor intently staring under the couch at something. Now Martyn doesn't know what his boyfriend is staring at so intently, but it's got to be curious enough Ren didn't even acknowledge his entrance with a noise or coming to greet him at the door. "Hi dear," Martyn says, crouching down to scratch at Ren's furry head (which is rewarded with the wolf in question wagging his tail quite a bit) before continuing with "care to tell me what's under the couch?" All Ren does is give a whine in response to the question, and there's a moment of silence before a tiny growl comes from under the couch.

and finally 9 (or so) sentences for OUACD AU:

"Grian, do you know what phrase I'm getting really tired of reading?" Scar sighs out as he flops his head onto his Boyfriend's lap as the other man tries to study for an upcoming test. Grian hardly even spares him a glance from his marine biology notes before replying semi-fondly with "No Scar, I don't. I assume you're going to tell me?" "The phrase 'once upon a time'. Just something about reading it over and over again is getting to me." "Are you sure it's not just your dyslexia that's making this tiring?" Grian asks, before putting his papers down on the nightstand that's next to their shared bed when he seems to realize that this is going to get Scar on quite a tangent that will make him very much unable to continue his intended task. "It's not genuinely, because I'm using audiobooks as well so when I'm actually painting I still can listen to the source material! And listen, I love a good fairy tale Grian, don't get me wrong, but it's just- it's so- ugh, what's the word?" "Repetitive?" "Yes! Exactly that! And it's just making it very hard to choose a fairy tale to paint for my assignment when they all lose me with the opening." Scar huffs out with a pout, choosing to focus on his boyfriend's face from his laying position.

If anyone wants to make me write; send me any of these emojis (💍|💀|🐺|👑) and I'll write about the corresponding au :D

[keeps-ache]

and we go right back at it !!

[celestie0]

gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]

kickoff ch.12 how you get the girl

ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fem reader, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot, marijuana use, sexism, sexual harassment (verbal only)

ᰔ chapter. 12/x (probably 18)

ᰔ words. 11.3k

a/n. man the color scheme for this chapter is kinda giving BRAT lolol...i mean gojo IS brat. anywho, i don't have much to say at the beginning of this chapter but i do have a LOT to say at the end of it sooo see y'all at the bottom!! hope u enjoy. also BIG THANK YOU to @whereflowerswenttodie who beta read parts of this chapter for me n convinced me not to scrap it lol

nav. masterlist

☾·̩͙꙳ moodboard no.1 :: ♬.*ﾟplaylist

11:03am you: hi! 11:03am you: good luck today 11:03am you: incase i don’t see you

11:05am Gojo Satoru: Why wouldn’t you? Aren’t you gonna be on the field for your newsletter shots?

11:07am you: i mean yes but idk where i’m gonna be stationed so 11:07am you: it might not be on UTokyo’s side of the field

11:08am Gojo Satoru: Okay then I’ll look for you before the game starts

11:10am you: no pls don’t. coach yaga thinks i distract you. i don’t want to get yelled at again. he scares me :(

11:12am Gojo Satoru: Haha you’re silly 11:13am Gojo Satoru: East side entrance at 2 11:13am Gojo Satoru: Be there

11:14am you: or be square?

11:15am Gojo Satoru: Yea whatever shape you wanna be in is fine cutie

It’s a bright sunny day outside, perfectly blue sky with a scattering of fluffy clouds seen outside the window of your shared room in your apartment, and you realize spring is fully here from the way birds chirp past the glass. You’re stuffing your camera case full of chilled Kodak film rolls, your last stash left, and it’s the last piece of equipment you pack before slinging the strap over your shoulder and heading out the door.

Mina had offered to give you a ride to the stadium since your car’s still at the shop, but you’re happy you opted for the bumpy bus ride and although you come close to low-grade concussions from the bang of your head to the window at every other speed bump, the music in your ears while someone else is operating a public transport vehicle helps you think creatively before shooting shots.

It was surprise enough that Mina of all people was going to this game, and when you questioned her about it in the morning, she looked at you like you were absurd to assume anyone from UTokyo wouldn’t be at this game, and sure enough, it’s all anyone on Instagram has been repping on their stories or talking about in the bustling minutes before lectures. Even Utahime was going to this game, and she hates all intercollegiate sports. You knew the game was a big deal, given the way Coach Yaga was yelled at via email by the Dean of UTokyo to make sure the team wins today because a multimillion dollar Nike sponsorship would be greenlit by the prospect (for some reason you were cc’d in an email chain among divisional higher-ups, but you weren’t opposed to snooping in on conversations that were entirely outside of your tax bracket).

It’s because it’s the second to last home game before the season ends, and apparently this has been statistically the best season the UTokyo D1 Men’s Soccer team has played since the new millenia. No pressure to the players on that fact, but failure wasn’t much of an option for them anymore. 

And you can feel the stakes the second you step inside the stadium. Packed would be an understatement, there were people flooding the aisles, overbooked for the sake of the university pocketing an extra buck no doubt, but spectators could care less since they were able to at least get in on the basis of that irresponsibility in the first place, despite the stadium’s capacity having long been reached before the pregame festivities even start. Banners and signs drape over railings with the school’s striking blue and golden colors, every single replay screen is lit up and brightly pixelated at every north, south, east, and west entrance for inclusive viewing. As you pass VIP security and make it into the lower field-level entry, the scattered chants from the crowd amplify in volume and you almost wince a little to yourself from the noise. The stadium felt like a living, breathing entity, pulsing with the collective heartbeat of everyone inside. 

You’ve never been more overstimulated in your life, except instead of finding it frightening, it was electrifying. And for once, you think you can understand what an athlete must feel when playing on their own home turf surrounded by those that are wholeheartedly rooting for them.

Hana is quick to spot you, panic clear across her face as she regards you with a couple pages with your assigned vantage points, a rushed briefing session, and then she’s darting down the sidelines to make sure equipment is set up appropriately where needed. She’s understaffed, given you told Utahime about Kai’s little intervention last week and she made a nasty point to the university (and possibly a handful of legal threats) and they relented in firing him. So now the three of you were down a photographer, and the extra work shows in the instructions she gave you as you skim the sheets. 

A glance at your phone tells you it’s close to 2pm, and your eyes take in the expanse of green on the field. UTokyo’s players practice kicking shots off to the right goal post, while YCU’s players practice shots off to the left. You can’t spot where Gojo is, but you faithfully head down to the East Side entrance like he asked you to. 

When you round the corner, you almost crash right into an Ichiko mascot, but swiftly dodge, and then you stop in your tracks when you see Gojo standing right at the concrete entrance. He’s leaning back against the adjacent wall, arms crossed at his chest, and he’s stretching his neck side to side with a creased brow, an intense look in his eyes, lost in serious thought, scanning the wall across from him like he’s mapping out plays in his head. 

When you approach him and catch the corner of his eyesight, he leans off the wall and flashes you one of his so extremely charmed to see you grins on reflex, and suddenly there’s nothing your senses seem to pick up on except him. Like everything else around you just disappears.

“Hey, you,” he says when he comes up to you, and you walk him like a dog back to a corner that’s tucked further away from noises and sights. You lean your back against the wall now, the coolness of concrete seeping through the fabric of your shirt, and he stands a step in front of you. Your hands toy with the strap of your camera.

“Are you ready to win today?” you ask him, and look off to the right into the flourishing seats that are still being filled to the brim, “clearly there’s no pressure.”

He breathes in deep, and releases it slowly, like there really was tension to relieve. “We’ve got no choice but to win.”

“Is that something Coach Yaga says to you guys often?” you ask him, because the man recited the same thing about five times in that email chain. “Also, apparently you take years off of his life.” Another thing he recited about five times in that email chain.

Gojo only addresses what he wants to address, as per usual. “Yeah, it’s something he says to us often.” 

“So,” you say, “what did you want to talk about?”

He looks at you puzzled, tilting his head to the side. “Nothing. I just wanted to see you.”

It’s hard to assume that he didn’t have something to talk about with the intention of telling you to meet him here, because this is the same place you confessed to him a few weeks ago, and so is also the place he so painfully rejected you. But maybe he doesn’t think about these kinds of things as much as you do. “I see.”

His tongue pokes to his cheek as he studies your anticipating expression, and then he sighs, his shoulders slumping slightly. “What are we doing? I mean, I like you, and you like me too, at least I hope you still do. Why don’t we—…why don’t we just give it a go already? I don’t see how we can move forward if you won’t at least let me take you out on a date.”

Your hands stop fidgeting with your camera strap from his words, and you lick your lips, suddenly unable to keep eye contact with him so your gaze drifts down to his chest in front of you. His uniform is clean, no smudges of dirt or grass, just pure white fabric underneath heat-pressed blue and golden accents, and of course, that signature number 10. You’re sure he’s all you’ll ever think of when you see that number now for the rest of your life. 

You know when you want something so bad you don’t know what to do once you have it? Because it almost seems too good to be true? 

“I just wanted to let stuff between us breathe for a little bit,” you confess, “it’s just, it was a lot to deal with. Being around you when I thought you didn’t want me the way I wanted you. I don’t know if this is odd to say, and maybe I’m overthinking it, but I just feel like somewhere along the way, I kind of…forgot who you were for a little bit.” This kind of vulnerability would have you running away with your tail between your legs with anyone else, but not with him. Not after everything. 

His expression softens, melting away that confrontational energy he had earlier, and he nods slowly. He opens his mouth to speak, but he can’t seem to find words. The presence of them is there, though, you can feel them. But what good are his thoughts if not voiced? 

“I just wanted to spend a little bit of time getting to know you again, I guess.” You squeeze your arm in reassurance of yourself because he wasn’t giving it to you. You let out an awkward laugh. “I don’t really know what I’m saying right now, to be honest.”

You can tell he’s at a crossroads, and you think back to this week and his efforts to get you to open up to him again. You know how he feels right now, because it’s exactly how you felt when he rejected you. Like when someone is so close, yet so far, you can feel that they’re within arms reach but never truly. And they’re slipping away for some reason that you may never know, but all you can do is assume that it’s a fault of your own. You’re not really sure what he can do to make you feel secure about this whole thing anymore, and you can see the slight panic in his eyes when he realizes that too.

“I don’t mind waiting,” he tells you, rushed with a desperation entirely contrary to his words, “what’s a week or two when I want to spend a lot more of those with you anyways.” But he takes a deep breath, like he’s already mentally preparing himself for an agonizing wait in his head.

There’s a sound over the stadium speakers, something technical and sporty and goes entirely over your head in dismissal, but to Gojo it seems to have a different effect, as he’s suddenly attentive and stands up straighter, that focused expression on his face from earlier resurfacing. You realize he needs to get back to the field. 

“Can we continue this conversation after the game?” he asks you hastily, already turning towards the center of the stadium. And he adds an obligatory, “sorry.”

“Yeah, sure,” you quickly agree, suddenly feeling like you’re taking up his time. 

He gives you a small smile, unsure in its presentation but pure in its intention. But he can only take one step towards the field before you reach out and pinch the fabric of his jersey to keep him still. He feels the tug of it and fully faces you once again. 

“Um. Just a sec,” you say, “I have something to give you before your game.”

“Oh?” he looks at you with interest, “I fucking love things.” 

“You have to close your eyes though.”

“…what is the thing…” He squints at you with a what are you up to expression.

“Just close your eyes!” you snap at him.

“Okay, okay, jeez,” he holds his hands up in front of him in surrender, shaking his head to get his hair out of his face and then he closes his eyes. “You’re scary as hell sometimes. Excuse me for being cautious.”

You roll your eyes, useless because he doesn’t see it, and then take a step towards him. You cup his jaw with the palm of your hand, his cheek twitching slightly from the unexpected contact, and then you raise on your tiptoes to press your lips to his cheek. It’s short and sweet with the sound of a peck.

“For good luck,” you whisper, then you quickly lower yourself back onto your heels, take a step back and tuck some strands of hair behind your ear. The ground suddenly interests you.

He opens his eyes, blinking a few times with shock and his hand comes up to brush the tips of his fingers against the spot you kissed him, and then his gaze goes comically dazed when he reaches out to hold you. “Alright, c’mere you,” he says, closing his eyes and puckering his lips as he leans down to kiss you but you laugh and push his face away.

“No no no, only on the cheek for now,” you say with a small laugh.

He does nothing to restrain his frustrated groan. “You can’t do something that cute and then expect me to be chill about it.”

“If you win, then, maybe I’ll let you kiss me for real.”

“Maybe?”

“Yes. Maybe.”

He’s close, towering over you near this bustling east side entrance that he seems to like so much, and his eyes drop to your lips. “Alright. I like those odds.” 

You give him a smile and slip away from him to get back towards the field, and you feel his eyes on you as you walk away.

The pregame events are a blur, with blaring music accompanied by the sounds of the sports announcers clipping across the speakers, finally quieted down in time for the players to line up on the field for the national anthem which was then followed by UTokyo’s alma mater. 

You’re stationed on the same side of the field as Minato, UTokyo’s side, while Hana is covering the sidelines of the opposite end with the opponents goal post. Minato’s filling up a cup of Gatorade for himself at the athlete’s station and then he comes back around to find you.

“Are you ready to take your shots? I see Hana wanted you to shoot on film today,” he says to you as he sloshes around Glacier Freeze in a flimsy plastic cup.

You twist your aperture dial with your thumb. “Yesss, all set. I’ll try to keep up.” 

He nods at you in approval.

The atmosphere feels nerve wracking. Something felt different about this game, the stakes feeling high. Well, of course they’re high, because if they lose today then they’re out of the tournament. But the stakes feel high for other reasons too, an energy you can pick up on but can’t quite discern. 

Your eyes drift across the field where you can see a referee placing a ball at the center of the field. Off to the right, you can see Gojo standing with a few of his other teammates, including Geto, Nanami, and Choso, and they’re all gesticulating to various corners of the field as they discuss what you can only imagine have to do with their plays for today. And you realize— it’s their last college soccer season. Their second-to-last official home match before the championship, and for those of them that haven’t qualified for the national league, it may be their second-to-last match of this caliber for the rest of their lives. One of the final chances that they have to prove something of themselves. The determination was palpable. 

The chief referee’s whistle cuts through the air with three short chirps, and that gathers the attention of all the players on the field. UTokyo wins the coin toss, choosing to kickoff, and YCU’s players choose to attack the left side goal.

Your stomach churns with anticipation, the crowd hushing too as all the players take their places on the field. If you feel nervous, you can only imagine how the athletes feel. There’s a rhythm that you’ve learned over the past couple of months getting to know the sport, where players stretch out their necks and kick out their feet and take subtle deep breaths as they survey the stands. Idle moments before the start of the match where they have no choice but to look forward and only forward, so they take a moment to stay in the present for as long as they can gather. You’ve never been much of a sports spectator, and perhaps you’ve only recently had some personal interest in the team, but you realize you feel pride in your school as you stand behind chalk sideline and see UTokyo’s colors scattered across the field in uniform. And fuck, you wanted them to win. You wanted them to win with fierceness and wrath, and it’s a desire you share with the crowd. 

Gojo spends a minute talking to the referee before the black and white striped man pats him high on the back in the good sport and urges him towards the center of the field. He lifts his foot up onto the ball, rolling it back and forth underneath the spikes of his cleat, and you can see it in his eyes, even from all the way over here, that he seems to have different ideas in mind for this game too. High stakes. Pre-determined, set with will, evident in the clench of his jaw and the concentrated furrow of his brow as he surveys the field with his eyes, and you’re lost in the sight for what feels like forever because you can hardly register the chirp of the ref’s whistle. 

And then the kickoff starts. 

The ball is tapped to Geto to start the play, and the first few minutes were intense as the ball was passed back and forth between UTokyo’s players, placing pressure on YCU’s defense as they inched closer and closer towards the goal. A pass between UTokyo’s #4 was intercepted by YCU and the ball was rushed down towards the left side, the crowd’s horror evident in the uproar as they raise to their feet in fearful anticipation, and with ruthless offense, YCU’s forward takes a clear sink shot towards the goal, and the crowd holds their breath before they watch Choso lunge for it in air, gloved hands firmly grabbing the ball and then pulling it to his chest with a possessiveness you can only expect to see from a skilled goalie, before he crashes down into the ground and the crowd releases relief in the form of rowdy roars.

Ten minutes in, with everyone on their toes, each team tested each other’s defenses. UTokyo were known for stellar offense, especially within the past few years with players like Gojo Satoru and Takuma Ino joining the league as powerful forwards, but UTokyo’s overall offense was still statistically second to none other than YCU. And the pressure YCU was putting on UTokyo’s defense was wearisome to say the least. You glance to see Nanami, who is UTokyo’s best defensive player, huffing and puffing as he stands between two light-footed YCU players in an attempt to guard, and fails an attempt to steal the ball before it gets to the feet of YCU’s striker #6, passed in a split second off to his teammate, with a fake so seamless that it has Choso just a couple inches away from touching the ball before it’s sent flying into the net. 

The noises from the crowd are still loud, but dampened in spirit. 

With the referees hand signal up in the air, the current score is confirmed. 0-1, YCU. 

Coach Yaga calls for a sub, in which he switches Nanami out for who you believe is a 2nd-year defensive player name Yuta you’ve seen around practice with a promising statistical record for interceptions, and you watch as Nanami takes the bench before he swipes the sweat off his face in exhaustion. God. Just fifteen minutes into the match, and YCU already has UTokyo’s defense winded from play. 

You bring your camera up to your face, forgetting for a moment that there was still a job to do here, and you position the direction of the lens towards the center of the field, where Gojo takes his place at the ball once more. Yuta briefly passes by him, signaling some play to him by holding up a number three, likely something Coach Yaga asked him to pass on to Gojo, and you see him briefly nod, his mouth slightly agape as he breathes slowly and pulls his jersey up to wipe at the sweat at his forehead. 

The referee chirps the whistle, Gojo taps the ball to Yuta, and the play starts. 

YCU immediately puts pressure on UTokyo’s offensive play once more, with eager movements to steal the ball, but it’s passed between UTokyo’s players with ease, more practiced and more sure. The kind of play that you and the rest of the school was used to seeing from them. However, Geto loses the ball on a left-back pass, but right when YCU makes attempts to cover field in a long-shot kick towards the left, Yuta intercepts the ball and swiftly passes it to Gojo.

The crowd immediately rises to their feet in anticipation, watching as Gojo shuffles the ball down the field, dangerously close to off-field boundaries, a signature tactic he uses because he knows there’s not a single player in the league that can match him in precision and control to keep the ball in-field on a steal, and he swiftly passes it towards Geto with a side-swept kick, beelining down towards the goal post, in perfect time for Geto pass-back to meet his feet and when Gojo was this close to a net, there was no stopping him. 

He draws his right foot back, and explosively kicks the ball forward, chipping the grass under it in the motion, and it’s sent flying towards the goal, and then threaded past the goalie right to the back of the net. The cheers that erupt across the stadium rumble the ground beneath you. 

1-1, even match.

UTokyo spends no time celebrating, other than a few pats to Gojo’s back as he nods in acknowledgement, no emotion on his face other than pure concentration and greed. The greed to win, like a righteous sin. He stretches his neck out, panting slightly as he takes his place towards the right side of the field and the referee chirps his whistle to signal YCU to start the kickoff.

They quickly make attempts in moving the ball towards their scoring-end of the field, but face push-back from UTokyo’s defense, unable to make it much further past the midfield line, and you bring your camera up to take a snap of Gojo, who you see is still standing off to the right side of the field. But when you position it and peer through the viewfinder, that space he once stood at was empty. You pull your camera down, and blink at the sight, and then the crowd is picking up in volume once more.

Gojo sprints down the flank, cutting past every defender, and moves towards YCU’s attacking goal, which was a shocking place to be for a center forward, but you could feel his desire and determination to steal this back-and-forth ball, and succeeds when YCU makes an open pass, thinking they were in the clear, only to have Gojo sneak in at the last moment and get the ball at his feet. 

The play moves by in a flash, a blur that you or anyone else in the stadium could hardly keep up with it, movements so fast you were shocked a human being was capable of even running that far in such a short amount of time, and in an almost embarrassingly easy play, Gojo makes a fool out of YCU’s defenders as he slips the ball through the legs of his last obstacle before he struck it with sharp precision, sending it soaring to the corner of the goal, past the outstretched arms of the goalie, and into the net. 

2-1, UTokyo.

It was electrifying, the feeling that strikes through the stadium, one that reaches you in your own blood. You’re shocked, standing here, after witnessing Gojo score two goals within the matter of minutes, against one of the top three teams in the league. It’s a shock that reaches everyone, including Coach Yaga who’s standing about ten feet down the line from you, his arms crossed, and you see his eyes for the first time as he takes his sunglasses off to get a better look at what he’s seeing.

You trail his sight, dragging your gaze across the field until it lands at Gojo, who is barely acknowledging the encouraging pats and shakes and goodhearted shoves that his teammates were giving him, because he was focused. It might sound crazy to say, but you swear his eyes looked like a fiercer shade of blue, like they were lit up, and you’re insanely glad you’re not one of YCU’s defensive players at the moment because you feel fearful of him even just standing on the sidelines. 

Your gaze trails back to Coach Yaga, who slowly puts his sunglasses back on but his brows are narrowed tightly as he crosses his arms over his chest tightly.

The “athletic zone”... You’ve heard of it before. A state of pure focus, of peak performance, where an athlete experiences optimal concentration and a sense of effortless control over their actions. In which they perform at their highest level, where time slows down, any and all distractions fade away, and they’re completely immersed in their sport at hand. At the task at hand.

Coach Yaga seems to pick up on the fact that Gojo was on the edge of tapping into that state. 

YCU makes a substitution, and you watch in anticipation as they begin the kickoff. 

There’s fire in their veins with desperation to even out the score once more, rushing the ball down the off-field line, one of their center forwards mimicking Gojo’s signature attack pattern, and Yuta struggles to keep up with the expert dribbling of a fourth-year player with more experience on him, so much so to where he completely leaves the ball unguarded and there’s an open shot, but Geto places pressure at the last moment, in a fierce battle for the ball, before YCU’s center forward loses the ball over the goal line. 

Choso picks the ball up, tapping on it harshly a few times as he surveys his eyes down the field, and all offensive players begin to shuffle towards their attacking goal in anticipation for the goal kick. He signals his hand down and then holds up two fingers in the air before placing the ball down on the six-yard box. He tightens the strap of one of his gloves, eyes squinting, and you follow his gaze down to a part of the field where you note UTokyo’s best aerial players are located and being guarded by YCU’s defense. And with complete trust in his team, that’s exactly where he kicks the ball. 

Geto makes first contact with the ball, his chest colliding with two other YCU players as his head comes out on top and he headbutts the ball closer towards the inner field, and Gojo immediately gains access to it with a bounce of his knee. The crowd holds their breath, fear that they’ll lose the ball to a steal in the split second it spends floating in the air, but Gojo urges it forward with a bounce off of his chest and then rushes it straight down towards the goal post. 

You wonder what sight he sees right now. Where you’re dead center, at no angle, lunging towards the sight of an open goal with a sole goalie standing in the center, anticipating to block your shot, and three defenders on your tail. There’s no room for error, no time to think, only instincts that you cultivate in the last leading milliseconds. They say that, in sports, athletes channel one hundred hours of practice in just a brief second on the field. A split second success that was years in the making. You can’t even imagine possessing that level of perfection in your body, or possessing that level of confidence that you can follow through with it in a moment as dire as this.

It was unreal, the way Gojo fades away from all the defenders, and faces no fear when confronted with the sight of the goalie in front of him while drawing his foot back to kick the ball. You lift your camera up at the last second, no time to think about aperture or ISO, just like he had no time to second-doubt a single twitch in his muscles, and his foot makes contact with the ball so harshly that you can hear the explosive sound even among the delirious cheers from the crowd, before he hook, line, and sinks it straight past the goalie’s head, rushing by like a scarcely deflected bullet, and into the net behind him. 

3-1, UTokyo.

The whole stadium is momentarily speechless, all players and referees and recruiters and reporters and coaches and employees alike, before the most deafening cheers you’ve ever heard in your life scatter across the stands.

There’s a moment of brief reprieve, where the players can catch their breath while YCU makes yet another substitution, as if they’re just trial-and-erroring it at this point, and the cheers in the stadiums remain idle as you can’t tear your gaze away from Gojo.

It’s one of those moments where you realize that someone who you thought was so familiar to you was actually someone you hardly knew at all. You knew he was a talented soccer player, everyone on campus knows it, potentially one of the best to ever grace the league, and the amount of times you passively watched his plays on a lecture hall projector screen as your professor enthusiastically broke them down during class, even before you met him, was good enough for you to realize that he was insane, a one-in-a-million, a talent you cannot replicate, one you have by divinity. One you were born with. 

And yet, somehow, getting to know him these past couple of months, he just felt so human. For someone so seemingly beyond you, he felt so…close? In those moments where it was just the two of you, it was hard to imagine that he was capable of such greatness, and that so many people were rooting for him with wholehearted tears in their eyes and cheers from their hearts, because most of the time, when he was with you, he was just a dorky idiot. You find that your heart is beating fast in your chest, that feeling of being unsure of what to do with what you’ve been wanting resurfacing powerfully. 

“This is insane,” you hear Minato say from beside you and you jump a little from your thoughts being interrupted.

You twiddle with your camera straps. “I know…almost done with the first half and we’re up 3-1…I thought YCU are number one in offense for the league?”

“Oh, yeah, I mean, yes, that is insane too. But what’s even more insane is that three of the goals so far have been scored by one player.” He tips his chin towards the right sight of the field and you trail his line of sight. “By Gojo Satoru.”

Your brow furrows as you watch Gojo, his hands on his hips and his mouth slightly open as he indulges in a few shallow breaths to gain energy while YCU prepares for kickoff. Three goals, by just one player. Your eyes widen when you realize that is insane, especially for a D1 semi-final qualifying match.

“You know what the divisional record is for most goals scored by a single player during a championship match, y/n?” Minato asks you as he lifts his camera up to take a picture of the area Gojo was standing in. 

You shake your head and wait for his response.

He drops his camera down and glances at the photo on his screen. “Four. During Keio Uni vs. Osaka Uni, near the beginning of the tournament back in 1997 by Osaka’s center forward number 24, Yuji Nakazawa. Meaning no one’s managed to beat that record since the new millenia, for a couple decades. Although a few players came close.”

You blink at him, and Minato is jerking his chin over in the direction of Gojo again.

“I think he’s trying to beat the record.”

You can only widen your eyes at Minato in realization, and then the chirp of the referee’s whistle draws everyone’s attention back to the field. 

The sports announcers go wild on the speakers, the crowd raving all the same, standing to their feet like the team just won the championship match.

“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!! We are watching HISTORY in the making!! Gojo Satoru, UTokyo’s very own 3-year consecutive MVP, has scored his 34th goal of the season, highest of any player in this year’s season so far, and is now on the road to beat the league’s long-standing record for most goals scored by a single player in a championship match since 1997!!” And the crowd roars even louder as you stare out at the field in awe.

YCU starts the kickoff following the prompt short chirp of the referee’s whistle, and with two minutes remaining on the clock for the first half, make desperate attempts to book it down the field towards their attacking goal, one of their midfielders making a clumsy attempt to strike the ball to the net in the final minutes of the half, and Choso easily catches it in his arms, right before the buzzer of the timer sounds, and the match moves into halftime. 

All of UTokyo’s players immediately flock towards Gojo in sportful glee, finally having a chance to surround him and harass him with harsh pats on his back and ruffles of his hair for his play in the first half. Choso even puts him in a headlock because they all don’t know what else to do with their excitement and adrenaline rushing through their bodies. Their win for today was basically confirmed with the way he was playing. 

You catch a glimpse of him through the crowd of people, and he has a boyish grin on his face, reveling in the embarrassing amount of attention from his teammates, that focused look from before dissolving into his normal self again. But you can see through him, as well enough as you’ve learned to at least, and you can tell he’s not satisfied. He’s thinking it’s not enough. There’s still more to be done, and it’s not time to celebrate yet. 

His eyes scan down the sideline until they find you. 

Your heart jumps a second in your chest. He stands up straighter, despite his teammates still clinging to him, and there’s a twinkle in his eyes when your eyes meet. 

Cheerleaders take their place out onto the field, performing their numbers with loud music blaring, and the recruiters seated at their white tables get up to roam across the sidelines in discussion with referees and with Coach Yaga and with whatever players they can sink their greedy teeth into, as well as sneak at refreshments while they’re at it. You can see off to the right that Hana has reunited with Minato and she’s showing him some of the shots she took over at the opponent's side. 

UTokyo’s players start to make their way to the benches to grab for towels and drinks of water and to sprawl across in rest, and you hear loud familiar laughter approaching as you watch the players sprawl across the benches, so you avert your eyes towards the source of the sound. 

You see Gojo approaching the benches, two of his teammates slung with their arms around him in some type of adrenaline-drunken glee as they talk dramatically and theatrically which Gojo entertains with his own drunk-off-of-adrenaline glee. And you raise an eyebrow at his demeanor when he makes eye contact with you.

“There’s my freaky little photographer,” he says, and he’s standing up straight and—wait, is he puffing his chest out as he makes his way towards you? Oh for fucks sake.

Gojo has always been confident around you, for as long as you can remember, but in the fair few moments he’s been cocky, he’s been a menace. And you can only assume the testosterone-induced high of being on the verge of breaking a league record in front of the entire school then subsequently getting homiesexually praised by his teammates for the better part of the past five minutes, not to mention with the crowd and the reporters feeding his ego with a spoon across the speakers, he’s been transformed into the final boss of cocky.

His teammates surround you too, their hands on their hips as they assess you and Gojo when he meanders right up to you, arms held out to hug you, a sleazy sight you’ve seen probably six times this week, and you feel a rush of warmth in your cheeks as you place a hand on his chest to keep him away.

“You’re sweaty and gross, please stay away from me,” you reprimand him, “this is an expensive lens that is not humidity-proof.” 

“Hey, you’re the girl that Kentaro socked in the face with a ball the other day at practice, right?” one of his teammates asks, leaning in towards you to take a closer look at your face.

“Oh yeahhh, ‘cause Satoru wasn’t paying attention,” another one of his teammates chimes in teasingly, hardly heard over the loud remix playing in the background as the cheerleaders continue to perform on the field. 

You shrink a little from where you stand. Gojo’s got an irritated look on his face and he’s shrugging his teammate’s elbow off of his shoulder.

“I really hope you’re getting my good angles,” his teammate to the left comments before winking at you, and you purse your lips together. 

The one on the right leans in too, looking at your cheek with an assessing look in his eye. “At least it didn’t leave a scar on your cute face—”

Gojo shoves the both of them back and away from you by elbowing them in the chest, and they make deep eugh noises before stepping away and rubbing at their sternums with pouts on their faces.

“Get the fuck away from her,” he grumbles, “she’s mine.”

Your cheeks flush slightly with warmth at the attention, and you watch as his teammates scurry away to adhere to some social hierarchy Gojo seems to possess over them.

You raise an eyebrow at him. “Yours?”

“Yes. Eventually. Whatever, did you see me out there?” he turns his torso towards the field and points behind himself with his thumb, “when I—”

“Oh god, you know what’s soooooooooo super sexy to me?” you interrupt him. “When guys are humble.”

“Oh c’monnn,” he curls his arm around your waist and pulls you to him, to where you stumble a little on grass and he holds you when you fall into him with more clumsiness than grace. “Tell me you aren’t at least impressed by me.”

You pout, because you are, and you’d really like to give him some reassurance and validation, but for some reason his cocky attitude is setting you off. “Satoru,” you sigh, wiggling a little in his hug, but he holds you tighter, “I’m working right now. Cut it out.”

He lets go of you at that, sober enough from the adrenaline to realize you’re being serious, but he steps into your space so only you can hear him. “What? Are you embarrassed?”

“Of what?” Your face twists with confusion.

“Of me. Are you embarrassed of me?” he asks.

“No. Why would I be embarrassed of you?” you ask with sharpness.

“I don’t know, just, sometimes I feel like you’re always annoyed by me,” he says with a sigh. “It’s like, you’re really sweet sometimes, and then kinda rude out of nowhere, and it’s sort of messing with my head.”

You pout. “You were messing with my head for weeks.”

“And I’m sorry about that,” he quickly interjects, like he already knew you were brewing up that counterargument, “but you don’t have to act like you’re all disinterested and indifferent just to get back at me for it.” He places his hands on his hips and wipes his temple on the round part of his shoulder when he feels a drop of sweat trickle down from his hairline. “You don’t have to act embarrassed around me either.”

“I’m not embarrassed,” you deny, and your cheeks feel hot, and for some reason you feel angry. “In fact, I’m the one that should be asking you that question. Because I still very clearly remember that time you said I was just someone you know in front of your friends.”

He groans and tilts his head back with frustration. “Can you just let that go? Things have changed between us since then. Move on.” 

“You kissed me and then pretended I was just a stranger to you in front of your friends,” you grit as you cross your arms. “That’s the level of sincerity that I know from you, Satoru.”

“Oh, okay, so there’s nothing else I’ve done that shows you that I’m serious about you?” he asks rhetorically with incredulity, throwing his hands up in the air in disbelief.

No. That’s not true, not true at all. But he’s pissed you off now and so all logic was to the wind. “Doesn’t matter. If you’re not embarassed of me, and if you’re really serious about me this time, then fucking prove it.” You’re speaking out of spite, and you fear you’ve just set him off too.

“Fine,” he says, and he grabs the microphone straight out from a passing reporter’s hand, replacing it with a gatorade bottle. The reporter stares at the bottle he’s now holding with confusion. “I will.”

“W-Wait—” you squeak out, feeling the hair at the back of your neck bristle in anticipation and a shiver gets sent down your spine. The cheerleaders are making their way off the field at the end of their routine, and you can hear the thumps across the loud boisterous speakers when Gojo whacks his palm to the microphone to make sure the thing was on before he jogs to the center of the field.

The crowd is already cheering, ecstatic to see the afternoon's star player and pride & joy of their school, and Gojo takes a moment to soak in all the glory in comical appreciation with bowing towards all 360 degree angles of the stadium.

“Uhhh,” you hear Choso from beside you, who’s strapping his thick goalie gloves tightly to his wrists, “Why the fuck does Satoru have a microphone while standing in the middle of the field.”

“It can’t be for any publicly decent reason,” Geto muses.

All you can do is watch.

“Hi, uh,” Gojo starts, static blaring slightly across the speakers and the crowd winces with him, “sorry. I’m Satoru, Gojo Satoru, you might know me from—uh, the game you’ve been watching?”

Cheers all around, because as if a single person wouldn’t know who he is. The stands were rowdy and most definitely drunk off of sidestep beers the stadium has been serving all afternoon long. 

Gojo is about to continue speaking, when he catches sight of the table of recruiters in the corner of his eye and he turns to face them out of respect. “Oh, yeah, uh, number 10,” he tugs his jersey up at the shoulder to stretch out the fabric, the 1 and the 0 flattened in view, “division player ID 233-997. Coach Yaga keeps my business cards in his purse if you want one.”

“SAAAAATTOOORRUUUU!!!!!” you hear Coach Yaga yell from somewhere in the distance.

“Anywho,” Gojo continues, and the music dims slightly, so he glances at the stop clock on the screen, which shows him he’s got roughly five minutes left to pull off whatever idiocracy he had in mind before the second half of the game starts. “Just here to say that there’s this girl I really like.”

The crowd gets louder, almost deafening, and sonically mostly feminine in (delusional) hope he’s gonna name call one of them.

Gojo’s voice is crisp and clear through the speakers as he clarifies. “She’s standing over there,” he says as he nonchalantly points to your exact latitude and longitudinal direction, “with the big camera slung around her neck that looks like it could pull her down to the center of the earth. Yeah. She’s super cute and I really like talking to her.”

“Uh-oh,” Geto murmurs from beside you, and you glance at him to try to get a read on the situation but you can’t.

Gojo starts to pace across the center of the field now, like he’s working the crowd. “But get this—she thinks I’m not fuckin’ serious about her!!!”

The crowd groans with him in unison. Yep, most certainly drunk. Or high off of glee. Either way, he’s playing them like a violin.

“Huh?” Gojo’s voice sounds distant now, away from the mic, and you can see on the large pixelated screen that he’s being interrupted by someone that looks like one of the videographers, “oh, what’s that? This is being broadcasted? Uh-huh. Oh. I’m not allowed to cuss? Oh fuck, okay. Er— shit, okay. Wait—shoot, okay.”

Choso’s smirk is heard from beside you, and you catch Geto and Nanami shaking their heads in your periphery.

“LIKE I SAID,” Gojo continues into the mic, “the girl I like thinks I’m just messing around, so. Uh. To show her that I’m serious about her, I’m gonna…” He looks up at the sky to ponder, and you can hear people shouting all sorts of suggestions of nonsense from the crowd. And instead of saying proclaim my undying affection for her through a romantic soliloquy straight from my heart in the presence of the entire school, he says—“I’m gonna strip. Yes. Down to my tighty whities, Imma strip.”

H–

Huh?!?!?

You don’t even have time to be horrified or scared, you’re just bewildered beyond belief that that’s what he came up with.

What the fuck kind of reassurance did you ask for. And what the fuck kind of reassurance were you about to get?

The crowd goes wild, it’s no surprise to say everyone and their mothers wants to see him naked, even the straight dudes would dig it for the gym inspo. And he points straight to you, sleazy look on his face and you’re going to ignore the fact that he just winked at you too as he crosses his arms to hold the hem of his jersey and pulls it up over his head in the most raunchy and slutty way a man can take his shirt off.

The music manager is quick with the bit, and is most definitely a fellow Gen Z college student, because Justin Timberlake’s SexyBack (ft. Timbaland) starts playing across the speakers and the crowd goes ballistic.

“Ayo why’s Satoru Magic Mike’ing the field right now?” one of his other teammates calls out through a mouthful of protein bar, “What the fuck did I miss?”

The cameraman does God’s work in a hella zoom-in of Gojo’s sweat glistened abs, then pans up the naked expanse of the perfect taut skin across his chest, and you can’t help but stare even among all your horror. It’s like when a male bird embarrasses the fuck outta himself to attract a female bird sitting on a perch, except instead of within the context of a NatGeo documentary, this was your real life. Everyone wants him, but he’s making a fool out of himself for you. 

He pretends to stretch his arms up into the air, a cover-up to flex his biceps, and then he kicks his cleats off, and the socks come off too. Entirely unnecessary, as showing one's ankles is simply too slutty, but alas he’s a whore. And when his thumbs dip into the waistband of his shorts, and there’s anticipating screeching from the crowd, he finally gets chased by security. 

Except he’s an intercollegiate D1 athlete, why the fuck wouldn’t he be able to outrun a bunch of dudes in black?

The camerawork on him is phenomenal as he runs across the sidelines of the field, eliciting a wave down the bleachers. So good in fact that you’re pretty sure the camera man could shoot for the Olympic track and field, with the way the stadium’s got a clear sight of Gojo mouthing the lyrics Them other fuckers don’t know how to act from the song still blaring with satirical rage on his face as he makes a fool of the men chasing him around the perimeter of the field.

And then he does it, drops his shorts, discards them with a kick, and he’s down to his tighty whities as promised. Cameraman has got to be displaying some previously undiscovered level of talent as he zeroes in on a shot of said tighty whities, with Gojo’s—forgive me, I need to be crass—huge bulge prominent in Big Dick Energy fashion except his tighty whities have little red hearts in rows across the fabric so do with that duality what you will.

He’s outrun security with a steady grin on his face as he eats up the drunken crowd’s cheers and riots and roars and you feel like you’re the only sane person in this stadium, or maybe you’re just not used to the fanatics of a college sports crowd. You peep the men in black trailed all the way on the left side of the field where they abandoned their pursuit of Gojo.

He taps imaginary pockets at his thighs, very muscular thighs you take indulgence in noticing, as if he expected to find something there, and he looks around when he doesn’t. He shrugs and grabs the microphone of the next passing sports commentator he spots, and then he makes his way back to you.

His breathing is a little shallow, and he inhales deep to catch his breath. “Baby.” The crowd SCREAMS at the way he purrs the word into the mic. “Will you do me the honor,” he’s huffing and puffing, heard across blaring speakers, “of being my lawfully wedded girlfriend?” And then he holds the mic to your lips.

“W-Wha—” you stutter, and there’s chanting across the crowd with words that barely make sense until you finally realize they’ve started to yell say yes! say yes! say yes! “Oh my gosh, okay, yes, fine, now please, for the love of god, put some freaking clothes on!”

The crowd goes wild with cheerful glees, and Gojo shoots fists up in the air in celebration as he runs all the way towards the center of the field with high knees, and you’re gawking at the sight, before he falls backward onto the grass and makes delirious snow angels on the ground. You see Coach Yaga’s vein popping in his neck from pure agitation as he storms off towards the center of the field to knock some sense into Gojo, but you know that Coach Yaga can’t kick him out, because they still have a game to win. The perks of being the most valued player in the league is getting to act like an absolutely insane idiot because you know they still need you in the end to bring it home.

You glance to the right, seeing his teammates nodding slowly then getting back to wrapping athletic tape around ankles and stretching out shoulders, with immediate acceptance of his actions like it wasn’t even out of character for him to do. And you realize again that you don’t know Gojo as well as you think you do.

And then the halftime timer is up.

You see Gojo approach the benches in a quick jog, squeezing some water into his mouth with his green gatorade squirt bottle, and when your eyes flit up to the screens on all four entrances, you see that the cameramen are still all focused on him accompanied by the continued buzz of conversation among the crowd following his public spectacle. But he seems to already be past any semblance of embarrassment as he takes the attention with ease, before he glances up to make eye contact with you and then lightly jogs right up to you.

“Did that prove to you that I’m not embarrassed of you?” he asks you, cocking a brow with a smug look on his face as he gets all up in your personal space. 

“I don’t know, but I’m certainly thoroughly and expeditiously embarrassed of you now,” you say, cheeks feeling flush when he leans forward so he can make eye contact with you at eye level. “I’ll have to move to a different country.”

His grin is relaxed. “Yeah well you asked for it.”

“Maybe. But I underestimated what a lunatic you are.”

“You’re my girlfriend now, you’ve gotta get used to it.”

Your heart skips a beat in your chest. “Satoru–”

“Tomorrow,” he cuts you off, “Hinode pier. I’ll pick you up at six. It’s a date, so wear something cute. And preferably easy to take off.” And then he’s attentive to the chirp of the referee’s whistle in the air before jogging backwards towards the feel and eventually turns on his heel towards the field while you’re left with warm cheeks and a heart that felt like it was moving at a mile a minute.

The timer for the second half refreshes on the screen while you loosely hold your camera in your shaking hands. It occurs to you that you haven’t taken a single photo of him before the start of the kickoff, and so you bring the piece of consolidated metal up to your eyes, peering through the viewfinder and focusing it on the center of the field. And there he was. Your muse.

Gojo lets out a breath, which you can see even from here that it’s shaky and staggered with resistance, and he lifts his jersey up to swipe at the sweat trickling down his face as he eyes the ball underneath YCU’s player’s foot just prior to the start of the second half. There it was—that look again of pure focus. 

3-1, forty-five minutes on the clock. And the referee chirps the whistle to start the second half.

It’s immediately evident that YCU has returned to the field following halftime with renewed energy, pressing high down the flank relentlessly past UTokyo’s defense, so fast it was hard for anybody to even keep a steady eye on the ball with the fluidity of their passes. The persistence pays off in the fake double-pass that slips past Geto’s feet, a moment of hesitation in the broken flow of UTokyo’s defense, and one of YCU’s strikers has the perfect line of shot towards the goal before digging his foot under the ball and sending it flying towards the corner of the goal post, scoring themselves a goal within just the first five minutes of play.

3-2.

The pressure mounts at the next kickoff, and with about seven minutes of solid play, with back-and-forth passes, multiple attempts at both goal posts to no avail on either side, it was clear that exhaustion was bustling in the veins of all the players.

One of YCU’s offensive players seems to capitalize on this, jumping on a defensive lapse of a pass Nanami attempted to make towards Yuta, and the ball is swiftly stolen then raced back towards the goal post. Choso prepared himself at the line, light on his feet paired with a solid stance, but in a millisecond of a moment, YCU’s offense unexpectedly passes the ball to a player racing up the midfield, and the player chips the ball neatly into the exposed corner of the goal despite Choso’s attempt to lunge for it in mid air.

Equalized, 3-3 game, momentary shock across the players’ faces, and the crowd bustles with something that sounds less like glee and more life fear. YCU was prepared to live up to and hold onto their title as the league’s number one offense, and as Minato explained to you during your time working in this job, an offensive team isn’t good at scoring goals, but rather exceptional at breaking down the other team’s defense.

Your eyes zero in on Geto, who stands in the center of the field for kickoff, and he’s huffing and puffing. He's the lead of defense for the team, and you can only imagine the level of pressure he feels right now. He glances around to his players, over to Nanami who seemed to share the same level of exhaustion, and then he glances towards Gojo who stood in front of him off to the right. Except you notice that Gojo looks relaxed, albeit still exhausted, but there’s a composed expression on his face even in the moment of heightened stakes. With locked eyes, Geto nods at Gojo and raises two fingers up into the air to signal a play, of which Gojo seems to respond to by closing more distance between him and the goal post prior to the kickoff, positioning himself almost directly in front of it, to which YCU’s defense immediately begin to guard him in a tight radius. 

The kickoff begins, with Geto making a few passbacks with Nanami as they close distance towards the field before passing it off to UTokyo’s string of offense and then receding back to their defending goal. UTokyo continues to close distance, raising stakes for YCU as their defense begins to falter under pressure, and the ball gets passed to Gojo, who only keeps it in possession for less than three seconds before he passes it back to Yuuji, a risky decision to make in the second half of a semifinal match, but the first-year swiftly unleashes a powerful shot that rockets past YCU’s goalkeeper, up towards the corner, except–

It bounces off the metal of the goal post, shot off with projectile speed back towards the center of the field, but with razor-sharp reflexes, Gojo headbutts the ball in air, twists his torso and strikes the ball with his foot past a dumbfounded goalie who can’t even move an inch to guard the ball that he already knew was going to sink right into the goal, and that’s exactly what it does. 

The stadium erupts with the momentum.

4-3, UTokyo. 

It was a sweet moment, one you manage to capture on camera of Gojo running up to Yuuji and ruffling his hair in reassurance, despite the missed goal. Your heart feels warm in your chest, feeling your own sense of melancholy that this was one of the last times they’ll ever get to play together on a team. 

Your eyes widen when you glance at the scoreboard, realizing that he’s tied. Gojo is tied for the most goals scored during a championship match. There were less than three minutes left on the clock. UTokyo either preserves their lead, or they risk moving into overtime, which, judging by the exhaustion on the UTokyo players’ faces in the wake of YCU’s relentless offense this entire game, moving into overtime would be a hefty, hefty risk. 

YCU’s center forward takes his place in the center of the field, fire evident in his eyes as he glances across the field. YCU are light on their feet, channeling everything in their bodies into these last moments of the game as they prepare to start the kickoff. You glance across UTokyo’s players, and although they look spent, there was a resolute look to all of them. It wasn’t the time to give up or feel at ease even near the end of this grueling battle. Now was the time to play. 

The referee chirped his whistle, and the kickoff began.

YCU immediately presses hard, as all their other plays have been all game, in their desperation to score. You can already see UTokyo’s midfielders move sluggishly in comparison to YCU’s offense, a drag to their feet as YCU pushes past the first layer of defense towards their attacking goal. Geto takes an aggressive approach, making moves to steal the ball while Nanami and Yuta guarded both flanks, and there was a relentless pass-off happening that ate up more than a minute of the remaining time.

Nanami succeeds in stealing the ball, but immediately loses it under his feet by a YCU midfielder, who makes a broad pass down the sidelines to YCU’s star forward who then powerfully kicks the ball towards the unguarded area of their goal, a dangerous shot that was clear towards the crossbar and Choso makes a leap for it, high into the air, his glove brushing against the ball, the entire crowd holding their breath in anticipation–

And the ball lands in the net. 

4-4, tied game. With one minute and seventeen seconds left on the clock. 

There was no time wasted in getting back to center field. No time spent dwelling in the horrific roars of the crowd as they watch with anxiety and fear. No time spent to process or consider or signal any plays. Not even a single second used to catch breath. When there is this much at stake, an athlete thrives on momentum. 

To your surprise, Gojo isn’t the one that takes place at the center of the field to start the kickoff. Yuta stands there instead, and you notice his eyes are erratic as he surveys all corners of the field. 

The referee chirps his whistle. 

Yuta immediately passes it off to the side to UTokyo’s midfielder, who curls it towards their attacking goal with a swift pass to Ino, who closes distance towards the goal, but one of YCU’s defender slips in, undoing any progress they had made in their offense by stealing the ball and sending it back towards mid-field. Forty-three seconds. The crowd’s roars heightened as YCU continued to push forward, thirty yards now from scoring, and UTokyo’s defense was desperate to stop them but their momentum was cracking in the wake of their exhaustion. 

It was a moment you don’t think you could ever fully or truly recall, one that you wish you had focused all your energy and attention to so that you could commit it to memory for the rest of your life. The image of Gojo pushing all the way to ten yards before their defending goal, a place where no center forward should really be at in a game like this, but it was exactly what their defense needed. It was exactly what the team needed. It was exactly what the school needed. For the ball to be in his possession.

With twenty-two seconds left on the clock, he steals the ball from right under YCU’s offensive feet, and then charges towards the opposite side of the field. The crowd rises to their feet, thunderous roaring that overtook any and all senses, as Gojo weaves through forwards, center forwards, midfielders, and defenders, covering the entire span of the field in lightning time. Fifty yards, forty yards, thirty yards, twenty hards, ten yards–

In a moment you couldn’t believe, he digs his foot underneath the ball, and sends it flying out towards the goal. There was not even a margin of an inch in which it slipped past the goalie’s hands, past his head, and swiftly flew right into the net.

With three-two-one seconds, the match was over. 

5-4, UTokyo’s win.

The final whistle blew, and for a moment, there was silence. As if the world paused to catch its breath. Then, all at once, the crowd erupted with glee that shook the entire stadium at its core. Flags waving, scarves held high, toasts of beer held up to the sky, it was deafening, and it almost makes you want to cry. Thousands of voices shouting in unison, celebrating the hard-fought victory of their school’s team. A type of pride that was fostered, and well-deserved, and long-lived.

You quickly glance towards the field again, and see Gojo standing right at the same spot where he had kicked the last and final goal, staring towards the net. You can’t see the expression on his face, but it surprises you how still he is. Like a statue, staring at the goal with the ball tucked into its corner. The very epitome of what it means to succeed in this sport was right in front of him, and it seemed like he wanted to soak the visual in for as long as he could.

His trance is abruptly interrupted when his teammates swarm in, rushing over like a wave of pure adrenaline. They slap him on the back, ruffle his hair, shout his name, the sounds of gleeful disbelief mixed with exhausted sighs of relief swarming into the air. And Gojo finally melts away from the tension of the match and into the celebration as he weakly returns the embraces of his teammates while he catches his breath. 

“IT’S OFFICIAL!! IT’S OFFICIAL!! UTOKYO’S VERY OWN GOJO SATORU HAS OBLITERATED OSAKA UNIVERSITY’S RECORD FOR MOST GOALS SCORED BY A SINGLE PLAYER IN A CHAMPIONSHIP MATCH!!” 

The speakers are blaring the voices of the sports announcers, along with ambient music to match the intensity of the match that everyone had just witnessed. 

You should probably be doing your job. You know, take a picture of the huddle of players on the field as they bask in the glory of a close victory, but instead your feet start moving on their own. Like a magnet drawn to him, you make your way towards Gojo, only a slight hesitation in your step as you stop about ten feet away, suddenly unsure. But when he makes eye contact with you, all that fear melts away.

He hastily pats the backs of some of his teammates, acknowledging their praise at the center of the huddle before tightly squeezing past them to make his way over to you. Your heart is beating fast in your chest, feeling an almost overwhelming sense of pride in your school’s team, but more importantly, in him. What was the acceptable thing to do? Run to him, into his arms, and hug him while he twirls you around? Tackle him to the grassy ground? Kiss him like your life depended on it? You have no clue what the acceptable or sane or normal thing to do is. But he’s made his decision for you when he walks right up to you, his hands holding your waist as he pulls you towards him. He smells earthy, of grass and salt and sweat and of all the hard work he poured into today, the wear and tear of the game evident in the wear and tear of his jersey. He only manages to huff out an exhale at the sight of you, like some relief washing over him just by looking into your eyes. Forget the fact that the crowd was all watching and that all of the screens you could see past his head were focused on the two of you, because all you could hear or see or think was him.

“I believe you owe me a kiss,” he says, huffing as he catches his breath but that doesn’t stop the smile that makes its way onto his face.

You nod your head, giving him your own version of a sweet smile as your arms slide up past his shoulders, crossing behind his neck, and he leans down to kiss you.

You hear a swell from the crowd, some teasing comments off in the distance from some of his teammates, you’re pretty sure you hear Coach Yaga yelling at him to get back to the benches, but it all melts away with the feeling of him smiling against your lips as he kisses you at the center of this stadium.

It was a moment so pure, so sweet, so picture perfect, and for once, you’re not the one behind the camera taking the photo. You’re the one that’s in it.

.

.

.

.

.

[end of kickoff ch12]

a/n. aaa thanks a lot for reading!! pls the fucking public stripping scene was so stupid i apologize on behalf of kickoff gojo for his behavior 😂😂 i’ll put him in his cage dw this chapter had some of what i consider to be the most challenging aspects of writing for me (internal conflict, grand public gesture, sports jargon) and so writing it felt like an uphill battle the ENTIRE time i wrote it and edited it. i considered scrapping it sooo many times cuz i just wasn't happy w it...but whatever i can't expect to be 100% happy w every chapter i put out there haha. i think kickoff has become a lil sacred for me since i've been working on it for a while now but likeee...sometimes u just gotta say fuck it we ball (tbh kickoff gojo probably says that to himself before a match) anywho, i am veryy thoroughly excited for what i've got planned for the chapters to follow, especially moving into the last angsty arc before the end of the series!! so i look forward to picking up momentum w this series again :0 honestly chapters 10 through 12 were the most difficult things i've written so far for a lot of reasons, but i have a feeling things will go more smoothly for me creatively going forward since what i've got planned falls well within my writing comfort range oh also there seems to be a little confusion about the number of chapters left, as i know i had originally said 12, but i anticipate that there will be about 18 chapters of kickoff total!! so still around six chapters left before the end :)) much lovee thanks for reading!!

OH WAIT ONE LAST NOTE I'M SORRY i didn’t really have a way of organically incorporating this into the story n i’m not sure if i’ll get a chance to in the upcoming chapters, so i just wanted to share this part of ch7 (gojo’s pov chapter) that is relevant to this chapter:

During the thrilling semifinal match between Keio Uni, Gojo’s father’s team, and Yokohama Uni during the end of his senior year, spectators witnessed a game that most college soccer enthusiasts would deem was a once-in-a-lifetime watch. Both teams engaged in relentless offense, and Gojo’s father was on his way to shatter the record of the most goals scored in a single championship match within the history of the league, but when he received a call from his wife during a timeout with the most life-altering news he could have ever heard, he abandoned everything on the field that day to go home and be with her. Grainy footage from the televised broadcast still exists online today—the moment he sprinted across the field, confused players glancing in his direction, amidst the uproar of the crowd. She called to let him know she was pregnant. 

the record that gojo broke in this chapter is the same record that his father almost broke before he got the call that he was going to be a dad :0 

➸ you're all caught up!

additional notes. please do not pressure me for updates or ask when i will next update (read rules); taglist is currently closed (consider subscribing to the story on my ao3 for email updates if you'd like! :0)

taglist:

@megumisdivinedogs @witchbybirth @avatarl0v3r @mwtsxri @asherheed

@wynney @delulux3 @higurumapet @zombriesworld @xenop0p

@phoenix-eclipses @who-can-touch-my-boob @mo0nforme @reagan707 @lost-resonance

@foulprincesscycle @luniunia @alekssashka7 @beabadobeee @thexmistress

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@ri-sa20 @thexmistress @mwtsxri @ritsatoru @sashisuslover

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[taglist is closed]

[smokingsoothesthesoul]

# DREW STARKEY — LIVE TALK SHOW

ִֶཐི༏ཋྀ ────୨ৎ──── drew’s first time on a talk show, which just so happens to be jimmy fallon’s and he’s known for scheming. he surprises drew starkey with his celebrity crush. which just so happens to be you.

ִֶཐི༏ཋྀ — pairing: actress!reader x drew starkey !

author’s note: please show some love, also this is my first time posting on here, and i don't know how good my one-shots are. enjoy!

word count : 1.8k

you were known for being one of the most famous actresses sought after. they’d been right for it, your acting was phenomenal. as much fame as you had, you never really let it get to your head, knowing where you had come from was the most important thing to you. 

not only that but you were also known for the activist and humanitarian organizations you’d created or supported alongside other celebrities, like angelina jolie, phoebe tonkin, daniel craig, etc.

so when daniel craig’s managers reached out to you it wasn’t a big surprise, apparently they had been reached out to by a talk show if they could invite you along as well. knowing daniel was more than glad to pass the invitation along, you accepted. 

you wondered why they’d want you there seeing as queer had just premiered, and that had nothing to do with you

—

drew had been nervous, he’d be on a talk show, but nonetheless he was a wreck. it took him forever to decide what he’d be wearing, ultimately deciding on a charcoal grey, and white tux with a black tie. he hoped his outfit would be fine for the show.

as he waited backstage for his introduction he paced around nervous, spinning his gold ring on his finger, an anxious tic he had. 

before he knew it, he heard jimmy fallon, “ladies and gentleman, let’s welcome the man everyone's been talking about, he’s rising to fame, the one and only drew starkey!” he announced as drew walked out and shook hands with the bodyguard on his way to the main set. 

hearing the loud cheers and roars of everyone was amazing and he couldn't help but be shook to his core, never in a hundred years would he have expected this. 

he waved to everyone as he made his way over to jimmy and shook his hand, before he proceeded to sit down in one of the couches.

“so drew we’re glad you accepted our invitation, isn’t that right?” jimmy asked the audience, before they all roared in agreement.

“i’m honored, thank you for inviting me.” drew replied confidently, knowing he was nervous inside.

“so we know you’ve been chasing gold for about four years, and now you’re in a queer relationship with daniel craig, james bond, which has premiered if i’m correct?” jimmy asked, knowing the answer but trying to build up the conversation.

“yes, out in theatres about a week ago.” drew replied. 

“how did that transition work, you know, from filming a show where you don’t really have a romantic relationship until recently to a full blown queer relationship?” jimmy asked curiously.

“honestly, a bit overwhelming and a lot of anxiety from my part. not more so because of the transition but just because i knew i had to ace this role. getting the opportunity to work alongside daniel craig and for luca guadagnino was truly the opportunity of a lifetime. whatever time it was, i knew i had to give it my all. sometimes i doubted my performance but daniel helped me and gave me advice whenever i needed it,” drew replied, while he felt himself relaxing a bit as he got comfortable enough to share personal details.

“there was even a time where,” drew began before lightly biting his lip amused at the story daniel shared with him, before continuing, “daniel told me of an experience he had with another co-star. basically when you first film scenes and most of all when they’re scenes like we were filming, the first day on set really is just practice. not reading lines, but actually practicing how certain scenes will go. in our case mature scenes were what we focused on at the beginning seeing as we’d be testing out our chemistry.”

“anywho the point is that once we were literally in the middle of a bed scene, nothing too explicit, and daniel chuckled when i fucked up a line because instead of saying ‘we can’t be doing this’ i said ‘we shan’t be doing this.’ he literally rolled out of bed and said he had to take a breather, i was confused, i mean we fuck up lines sometimes but never enough to call break,” drew explained.

“yeah normally that doesn’t happen, i would’ve been nervous,” jimmy commented.

drew laughed and nodded his head, before continuing, “i was dying of anxiety in the inside, i was like did i fuck up this badly. and i guess daniel could see it written on my face, which is when he walked over and explained how in his last role the same thing had happened with his co-star. and i couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief and literally said, ‘thank fuck’ to which he laughed at as he walked away to get a water.”

jimmy let out a chuckle at the ending of his story, and said, “oh my god i would’ve died of laughter too.” 

drew nodded as he swiped his backhand on his nose, a reflex of his, before replying “yeah i definitely would’ve too but honestly i was too nervous at the time, now i think back on it and laugh about it.”

“actually there was something i was looking forward to, with you here, let’s show this clip,” jimmy said motioning towards the tv for the audience.

before they knew it, drew was being interviewed by a reporter who asked who his celebrity crush was, ‘y/n y/ln’ he answered without falter.

as the video ended drew couldn’t help but let out a chuckle and turned to jimmy while he began, “is that still true?” 

drew knew the answer to that, and nodded, “yeah it is,” he replied confidently.

“we have a surprise for you if you look at the monitor,” jimmy said before motioning towards the tv.

if the world could swallow drew up whole, he’d let it. at that moment. because then and there on the tv, where times he’d stated his celebrity crush was y/n to interviewers and it was playing in chronological order.

as the video ended jimmy looked at him and playfully asked, “anything to comment?” 

drew couldn’t help but cover his mouth with one hand before sliding it down to reply, “genuinely that’d be mine if i could somehow reach her.”

“well who knows maybe one day you will,” jimmy commented supportively.

“unless i get the courage to actually dm her, it’ll be a pending matter,” drew replied.

“why the need for a dm? i’m right here,” you said after making your way quietly behind him signaling the audience to not spoil it.

at that moment, drew froze up, and instantly rose up from his seat but slowly turned around, not knowing if it was real.

as he slowly turned, you waved at him and slightly giggled at his nervous reaction. you waited for him to say something before you said anything else.

as you stood there waiting, drew finally caught a grip and let his charm play out even if he was a train wreck inside. 

“i’m drew starkey,” he introduced, stammering quite a bit. 

“i know,” you replied smiling.

hearing that drew’s brows rose in confusion, he didn’t expect that. he was a nobody and you were everything.

“i was invited to your premiere but i ended up in the er or else i would’ve been there, apologies,” you said, genuinely honest.

drew was lost for words, yet jimmy asked him, “drew you still there or are you too starstruck?” 

“mhm,” drew nodded, not necessarily indicating which one but they could all guess.

he couldn’t get over the fact you’d just apologized for not attending his premiere, gosh he was literally about to faint before he talked to himself in his head ‘get your shit together before you scare her’ which he proceeded to do, and extended his hand for her to shake.

“none of that, my mama taught me better than that” you replied before walking closer to him and pulling him into a hug.

drew couldn��t believe this was happening but reacted fast enough to not make it seem awkward for the audience, at least that's what he hoped and reciprocated the hug. wrapping his hands around your body.

as they pulled apart, you walked up to jimmy and shook his hand seeing as there was a literal desk between you both and greeted him. 

“jimmy it’s been a while,” you commented.

“glad to have you back on here,” jimmy replied genuinely.

“now that we’re dealing with a starstruck man, we actually have a few live questions, if you don’t mind answering them?” jimmy asked.

“of course, ask away,” she replied amused, wanting to know what was being asked.

jimmy read from his phone, “how does it feel to be drew starkey’s celebrity crush?”

“well honestly, and i quote, from the man himself, ‘i’m honored,’” you replied knowing drew was known for his replies of being honored.

next to you drew couldn’t help but smile amused knowing he said that quite a lot, he hadn’t been lying he really was honored. but to hear that you were honored he thought of you a certain way, well that was the most fucking honored he’d be in his life. before, now, or after.

“what do you think of drew starkey and his roles?” jimmy asked, reading off the second question being asked by the audience.

“well honestly, i’m definitely an outer banks fan. i’m glad he’s finally getting the recognition he deserved, i’ve been there since season one, people now are barely catching on,” you started.

as you replied, drew couldn’t help but feel touched at what you were saying. he really had just risen to fame this past year, with the new season of outer banks even though he’d been there since day one of the show.

“i’ll admit this new season and the past one that came out, i couldn’t help but feel a tad bit jealous that our local psycho was tied up and locked in with someone,” you admitted lightly, chuckling amused.

“for me this is a situation where i love the actor but hate the character unfortunately, because rafe deserved better, in this season four that came out. sofia betrayed him and genuinely frustrated me,” you explained.

drew couldn’t help but feel touched at how you were talking about his character, because it was something he’d poured his heart into. 

“one last question for both of you before we go,” jimmy asked before a drum roll sound came on to build anticipation.

“have we created a successful cupid match?” jimmy asked, to which the audience cheered, curious as well.

at that moment both drew and you gazed into each other's eyes, “only time will tell,” you answered truthfully, ‘but maybe we’ll get there’ you tried to communicate that through your gaze with drew. 

the cameras cut and now there was a rising to fame actor, holding out his hand for a famous actress to take. 

and that she did.

[phrandallanton]

I've had this AU idea in my head for a while where the Eltingville Club and the Northwest Comix Collective are cousins. Besides Jerry and James, they're half-brothers but more of that later.

Both groups hate eachother when everyone is around. But when it's family or just them alone they don't actually have beef with one another and are completely chill.

I could see Aaron being kinda jealous of Bill in a way. Bill gets to openly be a nerd about superhero comics, while Aaron feels like he needs to hide the fact he genuinely enjoys them. He doesn't want to be seen as a loser like Bill, but at the same time wants to indulge in his interests. Bill probably questions if Aaron is actually into superhero comics, cause Aaron may accidently slip and things here and there. But I don't think Bill Dickey over here would care too much. If Aaron was to tell Bill, they would enjoy eachothers company a bit more. Up until they get into a stupid fight about lore or which marvel girl is hotter. Something dumb like that, lol. Bill would also totally use this as blackmail against Aaron. Maybe it's best if Aaron keeps his love for superhero comics a secret.

Jerry and James are a bit deeper. They have the same mom, but different dads. You can tell by their noses, lol. What I've thought about so far is James' dad passed away, his mom got over it sooner than he did, got remarried and had Jerry. That's why he hates his mom and step-dad and he prefers to go by "Prolongo" rather then switching to "Stokes". He doesn't care for Jerry much if not at all. Probably a bit jealous and mad that he gets to have his blood related father. Is it Jerry's fault? Nah. But who cares? Definitely not James.

Jerry kinda wishes he had an actual brother that would hang out with him and be a brother. I'd imagine his parents are workaholics/always away so he tends to get really lonely at home and hangs out with the Eltingville Club cause that's his only options for friends. He probably tried to get James to like him when he was younger, but with how James was already felt about him and the fact he is years older it didn't work out. Poor Jer...

Unfortunately I don't have any ideas for Rodney, Pete, Jay Bird, and Josh. Though I can oddly see Rodney and Pete getting along when they're alone more then the others, for some odd reason.

Anywho, that's my AU idea. Hope you guys enjoy it.

Edit: Someone reposted mentioning that James and Jerry would be called half-brothers, not step-brothers. I totally forgot that was the right term so I've fixed it. Thank you to that person!

[minhosimthings]

After-party || 18+

Synopsis: The best part of attending all those champagne-filled events was always the after-party sex. And who better to have it with than your two oldest members?

Pairings: Heeseung × eighthmember!fem!reader × Jay, includes Hanbin of Zb1

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, female eighth member of Enhypen au, unprotected p in v (not for you), cock riding, choking (f recieving), oral sex (f recieving), degradation, praise, threesome, anal sex, rough sex, implied masturbation (male), DADDY KINK, all of them are toxic af, reader is younger and shorter than both of them

A/N: I have woken up from my 8292937 year hibernation period again and immediately decided to finish this fic. Fun fact this wip is being erased from my list after two years of its inception lol. Anywho probably gonna disappear for a long time again don't miss me too much y'all. As always enjoy!

Being the only female member of Enhypen meant you were the object of many staring eyes.

But not the eyes of your fans. You could handle those readily. After all, engenes were as infatuated with you as they were with the rest of the boys.

The eyes you couldn't handle (not easily) were those of the four oldest members.

Lee Heeseung, Park Jay, Sim Jake and Park Sunghoon.

Being a part of the 2003 line meant that they saw you as their ‘beloved princess’, especially in the bed-works. Their words of course, not yours. Sunoo, your fellow 03 liner, also joined in the fun sometimes. Having his bedroom situated directly next to yours was certainly a marvelous thing for him and Jake—who lived in the same dorm.

Going to events with them wasn't any different either with either Sunghoon or Heeseung constantly throwing flirtatious glances all the time, and Jay not taking his fingers off from your skin at any moment.

But you didn't really mind for some odd reason. Maybe the odd reason was you were only a woman constantly surrounded by handsome men. Or maybe it was the fact that their skills in seduction were as smooth as their voices and you had easily fallen into their trap.

Regardless, you loved them and they certainly loved you back.

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

“Why were we not invited again?” Jake tilted his head. He was lying on the couch, with his body sprawled like a sea slug, whilst Sunghoon looked on at the white wall, completely zoned out.

“You’re not worthy.” Heeseung joked from a corner of the room, admiring himself in the full body mirror. He sported a rather sleek look of a collared white coat over a velvety black shirt and black trousers. A dainty ringed necklace dangled from his neck, along with two bracelets on his wrist, rings decorating his index and ring fingers, and multiple small earrings hanging from his ears.

“Ha ha.” Sunghoon laughed sarcastically, rolling his eyes, “We still have our Tiffany events, right Jake?”

“Yep!” Jake said with a pop of his lips, toying with the aglets of his hoodie strings, “Speaking of Tiffany–” He rolled over to lay on his stomach, speaking to Heeseung this time, “—I heard our Y/Nnie is gonna sneak in with a Tiffany ring instead of a Pommelato one.”

“And wherever did you hear that from, Jaeyun?” A husky voice sounded as Jay stepped in. He looked exceptionally handsome, dressed in a similar look to Heeseung, albeit with a longer suit jacket and a v-neck under-shirt. He sported less jewelry though, with a plain golden band adorning his ring finger, a chunky bracelet on his wrist, and a necklace that dropped down to his chest. He wore a pair of simple earrings as well.

“Hey, don't shoot the messenger.” Jake held up his hands in defeat, collapsing onto the sofa once more with a loud yawn, “I’m excited to see what she’ll be wearing.”

“I hope it's not something similar to last time.” Heeseung groaned, remembering the last event he, you and Jay had been invited to. You had worn black, a halter neck dress of satin, which cinched around your waist and flowed off in a skirt that went to your knees. Heeseung had to keep his head buried in his champagne in order to resist dragging you off to the bathroom to satisfy his throbbing boner.

“Why not?”

The sound of your heels was heard first, before you could step into the room, alerting the boys’ ears and causing them to snap their heads in the direction of the entrance. You wouldn't have described their reaction to your dress as ‘jaw dropping’ but for the sake of your ego, you decided to.

From the corner of your eye, you saw Heeseung visibly gulp and Jay’s eyes trail down to your chest. Perverts, you thought, though you thought it with a wide smile.

“Don’t you like the outfit?” You asked them, taking a spin for them to see the back of it, giggling to yourself as you did. You knew all those shoulder workouts at the gym would pay off when you wore something like this.

“Backless…” Sunghoon said, his eyes wide, “I mean….….it's classy for sure.” Jake nodded in furious agreement, whilst the older two watched on silently, smirks dangling on their lips.

In all fairness to them, it was something you had never tried before. It was white, to match the boys’ outfits, with a sweetheart neckline that showed off your cleavage. Your back was accentuated perfectly by the sleek dip of the dress. It was bolder and far more dangerous. But what is life without a little danger?

“And you expect us to remain civil throughout the night.” Jay chuckled, swiping a stray stray of hair from his face, “While looking like that.”

“It's not my fault I’m way too pretty.” You shrugged your shoulders, adjusting your own hair with your ringed fingers. A sleek gold band decorated your index finger while another one which was inset with an emerald sat on your ring finger. You had a bracelet as well; the thick, curling wires of gold rested rather coldly against your skin. Since you didn't really have a preference for earrings, you decided to wear tiny hoops of plain gold. A perfect way to subtly complement the outfit.

“Woah honey, tone down the ego.” Jake wolf whistled, making you giggle as you plopped down on an armchair next to Sunghoon.

“Are the divas ready?” You said loudly, calling out to Jay and Heeseung, the latter was fixing his hair meticulously, “Or are we gonna stay here for the night?”

“Well if you give us that invitation…..” Jay said, leaning against the wall, his hands in his pockets. His hair was styled in a way that made your insides curl up and scream. Handsome bastard, you thought.

Just as you were opening your mouth for a retort, there was a knock at the door, followed by it opening without anyone giving an answer. A blonde, curly haired man stepped in, his fox-like eyes widened and his dimple prominent on his upper cheek.

“Hey the car’s read—Woahh.” Sunoo stopped in between his sentence, his eyes trailing up and down the length of your body, “Well hello gorgeous.”

“My eyes are up here, asshole.” You grumbled, getting up and speedily moving over to the door without sparing so much as a glance to Sunoo. He furrowed his brows.

“What did I do now?” He sighed, collapsing onto the armchair you were sitting on, “Don’t tell me this is about last night.”

“Of course it's about last night!” You glared at Sunoo, crossing your arms. Jake’s eyes clearly followed your cleavage again.

“Well don’t wear my hoodie again, you look too sexy to resist.” Sunoo chuckled. Sunghoon laughed as well, nodding his head in agreement.

“My legs are actual jelly Kim Sunoo.” You said smirking as an idea came to your mind. You flashed your right leg forward, exposing the thigh high slit that the dress had. Your ego significantly heightened as you saw how the boys physically stopped in between what they were doing, widening their eyes. Heeseung’s hand was frozen in mid-air, his efforts to brush his hair back proved to be un-futile. Jay chuckled.

“Thanks for taking my advice with the dress, baby.” Jay said, walking towards you, with his hands still in his pockets. Your eyes flickered to his lips and his to yours and soon they were pressed firmly against each other as his hand wrapped around your waist, whilst yours lay flat on his chest. His rings dug into your waist. He faintly tasted like cardamom; his movements were soft and his lips were perfect around yours. You often commented that Jay’s kisses felt the most romantic from all the others and you were, yet again, proven right.

“Gross.” You heard Sunoo say. You glanced at him just at the right moment when he rolled his eyes as you pulled away from the kiss.

“Jealous, Sun?” You smirked, locking eyes with Heeseung at the corner. His eyes were dark and his smirk was mischievous.

“You better go before the driver gets tired of waiting.” Sunghoon smiled warmly at you. Heeseung responded with a soft ‘yep’ while Jay was already ushering you out of the room, his gaze wavering towards your chest every now and then. He walked over quickly and shut the door after you had exited the room, bidding goodbye to the boys.

“You really like the neckline huh?” You giggled, catching Heeseng’s attention, as he snapped his eyes to hold yours in a dark gaze.

“You’re begging to be touched tonight aren't you?” He whispered, bending down to your level, to place a sudden kiss on the curve of your neck. His lips felt cold and slightly moist, probably because of the layers of lip balm he always applied.

“Don’t steal her all to yourself, hyung.” Jay cocked his head to your side, pressing a kiss at your neck as well. His lips felt warm over your neck, in total contrast to Heeseung.

“Are you guys done?” You chuckled, playfully glaring in Jay’s directions, “Horndogs.”

“I mean—” Jay looked at Heeseung, who was smirking, “She is right.” You heard Heeseung chuckle, “We are not staying civil tonight with that dress on you.”

“Didn't think so.” You mumbled.

And it wasn't like you even wanted them to.

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

The car ride to the event played out in the usual shenanigans.

Both of your thighs were squeezed by two veiny hands, your right by Heeseung’s and your left by Jay’s. Heeseung was fighting his demons hard not to reach up the dress slit and dive into you with his fingers. You didn't really want him to though; your eyes kept wavering over the rings that both the men wore, imagining what they’d feel like pressed harshly to your throbbing cunt. You were also fighting your demons to not unbutton their silk shirts with your teeth right now.

The car came to a stumbling halt, right as you were feeling sleep hug your eyes. Jolting awake, you glanced to your left to see the faint flashes of cameras appear from the dark window.

The press, media, stardom, fame. In short, all you’d worked your ass off for. You often get reminded of that everytime you attend an event like this one.

“Alright, doll?” Heeseung leaned in and whispered in your ear, his hot breath fanning your skin softly. You were suddenly reminded of the fact that your shoulders were to be on naked display all evening, when Heeseung suddenly pressed his lips against the skin on the top of your right shoulder.

“You want me to get in trouble, don’t you?” Your voice wavered only for a moment, when Heeseung stopped his sensual attack on your body. He looked up at you, his doe-like eyes darkened to form half moons.

But before you or he could say anything, you felt another similar sensation against your left shoulder.

“I am a victim of sabotage.” You said blankly, making Heeseung laugh as you turned your head to your left to see Jay’s widened eyes looking up at you, whilst pressing feather-light kisses onto your shoulder. He raised a brow, and rose up straight again.

“Don’t worry sweetheart.” He said, his hair falling ethereally onto his face was distracting you, “You’ll have plenty of sabotage when we get home.”

“Oh yeah.” Heeseung’s whispering voice sent ripples throughout your body, “Loads better.”

You were thankful for the partition in the car in between the driver seat and the back seats. And for the darkened windows as well. All of them contributed in hiding your extremely red face and an expression that said ‘I will kill you both’ but also ‘fuck me hard till you break the bed’.

You were greeted with the intense white light from the cameras as you stepped out of the car, aided ever so graciously by Jay’s gentlemanly outstretched hand, which you grudgingly took as a gesture of goodwill.

The media wouldn't know just how hard Heeseung had smacked your ass as you were climbing out from the car.

The spotlight moment on the red carpet was perhaps even worse.

Were you exaggerating? Maybe. But were you also trying hard not to crumble into pieces right there and then when Heeseung and Jay took turns in pulling you by the waist in the most attractive way possible? Definitely.

“I actually hate you both.” You mumbled as soon as you got inside the main lobby, finally free from the cauldron stares and the reporters commenting on what they’ll write about your ‘provocative’ dress. You didnt really give a fuck anyway, but it was nice to see Heeseung send murderous glares towards them.

“Not our fault you’re way too pretty.” Jay snickered, mimicking your words from earlier and fiddling with his rings. Heeseung silently agreed, his hand softly squeezing your ass serving as testimony. You rolled your eyes, resorting to putting on your game face—a.k.a the sweetest smile you could muster—to impress whoever the hell you were meeting.

You had heard earlier that day that your friend and MC partner Hanbin, of Zerobaseone, was also going to be present at the event. You hadn't told the guys, keeping it your little secret, so as to have an impromptu encounter with him at the venue.

Plus, Hanbin and you talking would certainly add fuel to the flame of your dating rumours, which had already been cleared a long time ago.

However, it was still fresh in Jay and Heeseung’s minds, and you had been taught from early childhood that revenge was a dish best served cold.

Entering the main venue, you were blinded by the flash of all the diamonds and jewels on display. Rows of rings and bracelets studded with jewels flanked every corner, and a multitude of opulent necklaces stood right in the centre. Your eyes were practically gleaming as you saw the earrings.

Soon enough, you, Jay, and Heeseung walked off in different directions, agreeing to meet up at a spot when it was time to go home.

You raced your eyes through the room, trying to spot Hanbin, walking blindly towards the bracelets in your attempt. You were momentarily distracted by the jewelry; it was seducing you into its gold and ruby grasps, and it was safe to say you were sold.

Giving a quick smile to the man behind the counter, you dropped your head down to the lines of bracelets—all sitting atop small black pillows. A lustrous silver one caught your attention first. It was engraved with the brand’s name on the inside and was decorated with carefully carved emeralds all over it. It would have looked amazing on the green dress you owned. Especially with your silver heel—

“Y/N?”

Hanbin.

Jackpot!

“Hey!” You exclaimed surprisedly, as if you hadn't been waiting for him to come, “Fancy seeing you here, oppa.”

“Yeah.” Hanbin shrugged, he was still getting used to you calling him ‘oppa’, “Wow, I didn't know you were here. You look beautiful.” You had to admit that Hanbin did make you blush often, and to be honest you wouldn't mind if any dating rumours crop out of this.

But unfortunately, there were some people who would mind direly.

“I’m here with my members actually.” You chuckled, “Jay and Heeseung. I’m sure they’re drowning in the free champagne though.” You giggled, trying to catch Hanbin off guard, “Were you browsing the bracelets, as well?”

“Matthew will murder me if I don’t get him a bracelet back.” Hanbin chuckled, “Do you have any recommendations?” You smiled sweetly at him and diverted your gaze back to the silver bracelet.

“I do like that one.” You nodded towards the bracelet, “I haven't tried it on yet though.” You chuckled, “Anyway I have way too many bracelets back home, I don't think I’ll buy this one.” Hanbin frowned slightly and asked the man standing behind the counter to show you the piece of silver, completely ignoring your protests.

“Now what kind of an MC partner would I be if I don’t get you a gift hm?” Hanbin smiled softly, putting the jewelry gently around your wrist, “Consider it an advance birthday present.” You giggled at this proposition, knowing well enough that your birthday was months away.

The bracelet looked expensive on you, the cold metal pressing against your skin and illuminating it with its numerous emeralds. Whoever designed this deserved to get a promotion in your high opinion. It shined in all its majesty on your wrist; you felt like it had the ability to make its wearer’s aura—an arcane one. You certainly felt mysterious.

"It's so beautiful…" You mumbled under your breath, “I love it.” You beamed up at Hanbin, who grinned back, “Now, should we choose Matthew’s present?"

"Well, I guess I'll be taking this one as well." Hanbin winked at you, "Along with Matthew's present, of course." He turned his eyes back to the glimmering collection, "How do you think he'll feel about that gold one over there?"

The conversation drifted on for about fifteen minutes, though you kept no track of time. It went from bracelets, to packed schedules, to comebacks and eventually, the well-being of each other's members.

While you chatted away merrily with your friend, two pairs of shimmering eyes stared from the distance, seeing nothing but red painted in the scene in front of them.

While jealousy or pettiness could never easily be seen on Jay’s face, it could be seen as bright as day on Heeseung’s. And boy did he look like an angry bull staring at the matador in the fighting ring.

“You should probably fix your face, hyung.” Jay sipped his champagne, it tasted disgusting, but it was still free alcohol.

“She’s touching his arm.” Heeseung grumbled into his own glass. Though he knew you were a grown woman who could handle yourself and make your own decisions and choices, deep down, he felt that pang of childish jealousy pierce his heart, as he saw you laugh with Hanbin in the distance. The lingering looks and slight touches made his ears turn furiously red.

Jay wasn't any better either. He was unbelievingly horny, and the way your dress draped around your hips so fucking perfectly made his dick ache. His image would probably be in shambles right now; the fabric of his pants wasn't really made for a hard cock.

“Should we go over then?” He suggested, to which the older man simply nodded, downing the rest of his champagne. Jay held onto his own glass though—something to put pressure against.

You, on the other hand, kept chattering away with Hanbin, not so subtly glancing over at ‘your’ men on the other side of the room. Hanbin thankfully didn’t notice—maybe his peripheral vision wasn’t as great as yours was—because he didn't internally smirk evilly when the oldest members of Enhypen started to approach him.

“Oh hey guys.” you exclaimed in an unusually high pitched voice, along with widened eyes, “Look who I found!” You tilted your head towards Hanbin, who smiled sweetly at Heeseung and extended his hand forward. You prayed to whichever God was listening that Heeseung didn't crush his hand—because from the look on his face, he looked like he really, really wanted to. You wondered if Hanbin was choosing to ignore it, or if he really was that sweet of a soul.

“What were you guys looking at?” Jay asked, turning Hanbin’s attention to him, “We were just over there by the rings and we got so distracted we didn't even notice you guys!”

Liar, you thought, they definitely noticed you, and boy did they definitely see you touching his arm.

“I was just buying this pretty thing.” Hanbin pointed to the bracelet on your wrist, “For a pretty girl, of course.” A blush crept to your cheeks and all Heeseung saw was red.

“Oh yeah, we were also looking at stuff for Y/N.” Heeseung forced a laugh, “Speaking of which—” He directed his surprisingly softened eyes towards you, “—do you wanna check out the things we got?”

Oh how well your plan was working.

“Actually, I was helping Hanbin oppa pick out a bracelet for Matthew.” The mere word ‘oppa’ was the final knife to the boys’ hearts, “I’ll be back after a minute, if that's alright?” Your eyes sparkled mischievously as you looked at Jay with the most innocent look you could muster.

“Of course it’ll be alright.” Jay smiled gently, and soon enough, dragged a very unwilling Heeseung off towards the fountains of champagne.

You pressed a freshly-plucked-from-the-waiter glass of champagne to your bosom and picked up the conversation with Hanbin again. You couldn't feel the influence of the alcohol work on you any time soon, though you were fervently hoping for it to. Orgasms always feel better when one is drunk, in your opinion.

From the corner of your eye, Heeseung and Jay seemed to shine in all their majestic glory, with their sleek clothes and their very seductive jewelry. And also their furrowed brows, which switched to polite, saccharine smiles within seconds.

It was a good thing your dress was so easily accessible.

{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}{}

The pressure on your back felt painfully arousing as Heeseung pressed you to his bedroom wall. The rough feeling of his lips made you whine in between the sloppy kiss. His hand travelled up your leg, to your chest, cupping your breast in his warm fingers. Just that would have been enough to make you cream—what with how stimulated you were at the moment.

You heard Heeseung’s shaky breaths so close to your ear; your face instantly felt like it's on fire, considering how good his hand squeezing the shit out of your tit made you feel. The soft and warm combination of skin and fabric under his hand feels so right and he immediately notices your hard nipple, visible through the fabric.

"Fuck, you really want this, huh?" Now his lips are brushing over your shoulder and the slight growl in his voice makes something deep inside you tighten, "Dirty little baby." If he only knew for how long you'd been craving this, ever since you saw him in that stupid white coat and that stupid jewelry.

Heeseung's lips feel so soft on your shoulder and you move your head a bit to the side, just to give him more room to play with, which he immediately takes advantage of. His lips trail over your shoulder to your neck and he gently starts to suck on that sweet spot, drawing more of those sweet sounds out of you. The sight of Jay in the corner, slowly removing his jacket disappears, drowned out by Heeseung's erratic breathing, and his moans against your neck.

“Heeseung….” You sighed, “...want—want your cock—please..” Your sentence was spoken in a daze, an almost incorrigible accent that only the man in front of you could comprehend.

“Baby wants my cock?” Heeseung almost cooed, one of his hands trailed down your body again to find your exposed thigh, giving it a good squeeze before speaking again, “You’re so demanding aren't you sweetheart?” His hands venture deeper, fingers pressing against the inside of your thigh, tracing a deliberate path that makes your body tremble under his touch, “Promise you'll be a good girl for daddy then?” You only nod, but even that’s enough for Heeseung to roughly cup your pussy in his hand, “Words baby, use your words.”

“I–ahhh” Your words couldn't even begin to come out, Heeseung’s body put so much pressure against yours “—be your good girl—all yours daddy,” you beg, voice still strained with sleep, “please—need it inside.”

Heeseung suddenly nibbled on your neck, making you flinch momentarily. The gentle bite on your sensitive skin sent another shiver down your spine, stirring a mix of warmth that made your pulse race. He trailed your neck with a series of kisses and wet sucks, his breath hot against your skin.

“Ngh…” Each touch left you almost breathless, and the heat between you growing with every passing moment, making your toes curl and you moan softly by his ear.

“What do you think Jay?” Heeseung called out to the younger man, “Does she deserve my cock?”

From the corner of your eye, you could see Jay sitting all relaxed on Heeseung’s gaming chair. His coat was nowhere to be seen and his bracelet and earrings were removed. He titled his head to the side and—in the barely lit atmosphere—you could spot that smug smile dancing on his lips.

“Hmm, I don't know…” He slowly got up and stuffed his hands into his pant pockets, “I don't think she needs it.” You internally swore at Jay, all words that could get out from your mouth, if Heeseung wasn't cupping your pussy so well at the moment.

“All yours then.” Heeseung’s hands abruptly left your skin, “You may want to keep it quiet though, the others might wake up.” He winked and strode away towards his lounge chair in the corner of the room.

You didn't even get time to take a breath before Jay’s soft lips were on yours. Deep passionate kisses were making you vibrate more and more from excitement. Your tongues were fighting with each other for dominance; it was a sure thing that Jay won. You were so hungry each time your lips touched, so desperate for him, for his body and what you knew it could do to you.

"You taste so good…" Jay mumbled in between the passionate moment, "pretty baby" Heat spread all throughout your body at his compliment, he was always marvelous at pet-names. Jay couldn't wait any longer, he grabbed your hips and briskly lifted you up, his biceps flexing through his shirt as he did. He looked absolutely succulent.

Laying you down gently on the bed, he was quick to unbutton the first few buttons of his shirt, before he leaned over you and connected your lips together again. You broke the kiss just to see his chest peek out from the slightly unbuttoned shirt. You were an expert at removing buttons by now and—naturally—you reached under his shirt and gently ran your fingers around his abs, which caught his breath.

"You like that huh?” he asked hurriedly, with a cocky smile hanging on his lips, “Needy little slut.” You looked up at him with hooded eyes, giving him a chance to start kissing you again, more likely, guzzle your face. He was rough and wild but at the same time tender and loving. This combination always made a total waterfall flow between your legs.

He was holding you by your waist, really digging his strong fingers into your flesh, making you moan into the hungry kisses. Jay’s hand traveled up the slit of your dress and his fingers hook themselves onto the waistband of your drenched panties. Ever the expert, he pulls them off faster than you can comprehend.

Your hands meanwhile fly to his pants, pulling down the zipper to leave him in his boxers, which he wrenches them too, impatiently. The atmosphere of the room becomes quite heated as you look up at him with those wide, trusting eyes, and something in him cracks wide open. The tenderness of your gaze pulls at him, like a tether pulling him back from the edge, but that heat still smolders in his blood, fierce and unyielding.

In one rough tug, he yanks you towards the edge of the bed as he falls to his knees. Your hips held tight in Jay’s hands as he lurched forward, burying his nose in the soft junction where your leg and inner thigh meet. You let out a shuddering breath, the scent of your arousal swirling through the air is enough to make him crave more.

Looking down at him, you chew on the inside of your lip, knowing you have his undivided attention when you speak up, “You gonna stick that tongue inside of me or do I have to wait?”

Jay looks up and squeezes your thigh, making you look him in the eyes. He lets himself drink in the way you look. So soft and serene, like some kind of invitation that begs him closer. You look at him and grin, eager to get him as riled up as possible before you feel a sudden movement as he pulls your legs completely apart.

“Pretty girl sure knows how to run that mouth huh?” He says, and your hips jerk up slightly on their own volition, desperate for any friction, Jay runs his tongue over his lips, “She wants me to shut it up for her, doesn't she?”

It was evident he didn't need an answer when you felt his tongue glide through your folds; he had found his new home between your legs. You shudder, a sweet little mewl escaping your throat involuntarily. you can't help but blush at your own reaction, slightly embarrassed by it. You tear your eyes away from the erotic way Jay’s eyes closed as if he was enjoying his most favourite meal. Your head falls back as a deep moan rips into the air.

An amazing taste blooms on his tongue, crisp and bright with hints of whatever cranberry potion you were drinking and that faint yeasty richness at the back of Jay’s throat. They dance across his palate, leaving a lingering sweetness through his veins that doesn’t soothe his nerves so much as ignite something beneath them, something warmer, deeper, curling into his bloodstream.

Your mouth dropped open in another devastatingly desperate noise, your hands twisted his hair roughly, soft breasts rising and falling each time you gasped for air. The dim light of the room highlighted the curves of your body, slick and shining with a thin sheen of sweat.

His nose nudged your clit, his tongue lapping at your entrance with long, languid strokes, and your moans filled the room, soft and breathy. Jay groaned deeply, the sound muffled as he pressed his face impossibly closer to your core, his lips locking around your clit. Each sound he made was guttural, desperate, like he was losing himself in the taste of you.

His tongue flicking between your folds, you gasped, scrambling to grip his arms as he dragged your hips across his mouth. “you taste amazing, holy fuck.” He circled your clit, sucking the sensitive bud before digging his fingers into your skin. No matter how many times Jay found his head between your thighs, he could never get used to how intoxicating you were, all of his senses and primal instincts honing in on fucking you stupid.

Your hands buried themselves in his hair, tugging him closer, and he groaned into you, letting his tongue delve deeper, seeking out every bit of sweetness he could coax from you. It’s pure sin, each sound you made, each shiver that ran through you as he took his time, drinking you down like a man starved. You cried out, eyes fluttering shut as you clenched around nothing.

“F-Feels so good…oh fuck—daddy!” His chest filled with pride as you writhed above him. Despite his mouth working wonders on your soaked cunt, you felt so empty, wanting nothing more than to feel the delicious stretch of his cock.His hands gripped your thighs tightly, anchoring himself to you as his nose pressed against your folds, adding pressure in all the right places.

“Oh daddy…..” you whispered, your voice trembling as you combed your fingers through his hair, guiding him exactly where you needed him, “Harder—go harder please…” Jay moaned against you, the sound low and wrecked, and he obeyed without hesitation, sucking harder, his tongue darting out to flick over the swollen nub between pulls.

He thrusts his tongue greedily, pulling out almost fully until he somehow goes in deeper. It’s not fast but it’s not slow either, just enough that it leaves you reeling. The stretch is something you could never get used to; it only just borders on pain that makes it feel deliriously good. All you can offer him are broken gasps as you find purchase on his shoulders with your nails, digging into the flesh.

“need you inside, daddy,” you looked down at him, “fuck me.” Jay’s cock strains, pulsing in time with each pump of his blood through his shaft, circling around the base, threatening to expand even without the tight grip of your pussy surrounding him.

He inhales deep, greedy lungfuls of your scent. A guttural growl rumbles through his chest, his eyes screwing shut at the sheer amount of too much that courses through him. He feels dizzy with it, high on the pheromones pumping from you in waves.

“Fuck it—can’t wait.” He mumbles. His lips parted from your pussy in mere seconds and before you knew it, you were pressed flat against the bed. You could taste the cranberry tones of your own cum on his lips, he looked absolutely beautiful with his face all red and his mouth smeared with your spillage.

"Tch tch." You heard the clicking of a tongue in the background, “So I don’t get to have her then, do I?”

Jay slowed down at Heeseung’s brooding voice and closed his eyes for a second, taking in a deep breath before he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your cheek, “Have fun with him, princess.” He smirked and climbed down the bed.

From the corner of your eye, you could see the tall figure of Heeseung slowly approaching, his hands in his pockets and his chest peeking out from his slightly unbuttoned shirt. He places his knee at the foot of the bed and he climbs up to you. Sitting on his knees, in between your legs, he smirks.

“You didn't cum properly with Jay, did you baby?” He tilts his head at you. Jay scoffs from somewhere in the corner, “Oh be a good sport, Jongseong.” Heeseung’s smile remains as calm as ever.

“You’re basically saying you can fuck her better than i can.” Jay chuckles, “And I'm supposed to be a good sport.”

“Oh no, that’s not what I meant at all.” Heeseung leans down and presses his lips to your neck, sucking on the spot for a second or so—though it felt like eternity to you, “I’m only saying she prefers cock more than tongue.” His deer-like eyes had a carnivorous lust behind them, “Isn't that right, baby?” Heeseung leaned in and blew cold air onto your neck, making you shiver. He smirked and kissed your neck softly, licking the slick skin.

You looked up at him with dopey, half-lidded eyes, sneaking eager hands under his button up and undershirt. your fingers trace over his skin, pressing into the soft warmth of his stomach, his body heat sinking into your palms.

Heeseung took this as a sign to peel off his layers, pulling them off with ease and adding them to the pile of discarded clothes. You spend a moment gaping at his torso before he lowers himself on top of you, dragging his lips up your neck as he does so. You whine when he begins sucking at your pulse point, teeth scraping your skin every so often.

“Fuck—needy baby wants my cock huh?” He kisses at your collarbone, lips catching on the exposed skin of your chest, then breasts as he slowly pulls you up to place you on your ass. He strips off his pants and boxers and grabs your waist once more as he sinks into the pile of pillows, purposefully—and rather masterfully—avoiding where you need him most. He runs his hands up and down your thighs, while you settle down on his hips, smooth fingertips caressing your skin, squeezing in intervals.

You didn't know if it was the pure fact that you were one horny bitch or if you were just really craving cock, but the sight of Heeseung’s beautiful dick made you stare. It was so thick and heavy, the mushroom tip was already glistening with pre-cum. You always did say that his dick was the prettiest out of all of them—which earned you quite a lot of rough sex last year. Heeseung’s body was hot, his skin flushed as he relaxed into the mattress even more.

“Go on sweetheart.” He said, in that cocky, condescending tone that always made your pussy gush like a fountain, “Ride it like a good little slut.”

Your hips find their home atop his and you nestle against him. You sink down on his cock, gasping as he fills you perfectly—at this point, you've memorised every vein on that thing. You love how he fills you so completely, how you almost, almost struggle to take him in all the way.

Heeseung’s hands immediately search for your thighs, pawing at the flesh as he looks up at you. you drink in his expression, the way he's looking at you through his heavy eyelids, his bare chest rising and falling.

“Fuck,” He muttered under his breath, his hands were really digging into your naked flesh “Such a fucking slut—treatin’ me so gooodd…..” Heeseung slurred his words as if he was heavy under the influence—of your scent, your pretty pussy wrapped ‘round him, and just the sight of you.

Heeseung was stretching you really hard, but you were still full of his dick inside you. From time to time, his base was touching your sensitive clit, making it even harder to keep you quiet. He easily found your g-spot; it wasn't a surprise considering how he knew each corner of your body like the back of his hand. “Fuck—oh fucking hell—oh daddy!” your eyes rolled back and at the same time you whined, “F-feel so good—ahh goddd”

Your walls stretched deliciously around the welcomed intrusion that was his length, your pussy clenching around him for all that he had. The sounds falling from your lips were nothing short of pornographic, the moans and choked sobs only pushing Heeseung closer to the edge.

"fuck. . ." He huffs, his eyes fluttering shut as he grasps your thighs, sinking into the bed. He hates how tired he was already getting but damn if you don't look like the prettiest little thing bouncing on his cock like that.

You whine and try to take more. Another inch disappears inside you and your thighs tremble as you focus on breathing.

"You're so big," you whine when you take another inch. A shaky breath slips past his lips and his hand tightens on your skin.

“Been thinking about you all day,” he mutters, voice thick and dark, “Looked so damn good in that tiny little dress.” His knuckles brush against your thigh, then tighten, holding you in place.

The rough hands on your hips drifted upwards, finding their home around your neck, gently still. But even the soft grip had you reeling, gripping his wrists. The room was heated, and you felt as if you were going to explode. This would definitely leave a few marks on your neck—nothing some makeup couldn't fix.

Every clench of your walls around his length shoots a thrill straight to his stomach, making him ache with the urge to crawl into your skin.The overwhelming need to take you completely, to mark you and fill you, pulses through his veins until he feels like he might explode.

You indulge him, working down over his cock with your tight hole, clamping around him as your hips meet his over and over. He's groaning, grumbling, eyes fluttering shut as he's lost in the way you take him.

Soon you started to feel that strange feeling in your lower abdomen, that you need to go to the bathroom, that burning flame, that twirling writhing feeling, all together clearly proved that you were on the edge and you won't hold it in for long.

Heeseung wasn't much better off. You were so incredibly tight around him, your pussy was literally just perfect. His veins were pulsating and his dick was twitching inside you, his heartbeat accelerated and he already lost control over his movements. He was so consumed by his climax that he had no idea what his hips were doing and how hard or fast he was thrusting into you.

“Fuck. Me.” he groans under his breath, hissing and bucking his hips when you tighten around him and cry out.

“Shit—cumming!” You all but scream. Your eyes roll back and your toes dig into his leg, bruising his calf. His tip hits your cervix hard, hot cum pooling deep in your core, spilling out of him for longer than you thought possible. His breath is ragged and his chest heaving as his body jerks around you.

Exhausted, you lean forward, such that your face is close to his. His cock still rested inside of you, and he brought a hand up to caress your cheek.Your skin blooms with warmth beneath his touch, and he grins against your neck, the edge of his teeth grazing you just enough to make you squirm.

“We should let Jay have a turn too, shouldn't we baby?” He asked through ragged breaths, “Or you’re too tired?”

“Fuck no.” You huffed, looking at him with widened eyes. Lifting your hips up gently, you whined as you felt his length leave the warmth of your pussy.

You landed on your stomach as you rolled over to the edge of the bed. Curling your back, you sat up on your arms, and looked at Jay, who was sitting calmly on an armchair. Or so you thought, until you noticed—through your euphoria-filled eyes—that his chest was rising and falling rapidly. The place where he sat looked wet to you—and truth be told—so did his dick. You smirked and tilted your head at him.

“You could have at least told me you were touching yourself..” You said, in a sultry tone, “You know I would have loved to watch.” You dramatically sighed and looked at him with the best sparkling doe eyes you could muster, “But you don't love me enough to tell me, do you daddy?”

If there was one word to describe what Jay was experiencing at the moment on seeing your plump lips shaped in a pout, it would be the word ‘melting’. Your body looked stunning, draped in the covers of the night like some sort of expensive silk. Jay’s heart beat fast, though he didn't show it on his face. He only cocked his head to the side and smiled.

“Maybe next time, princess.” He said coolly as if his dick was rock hard by this point at the sight of your tits. You heard Heeseung mutter ‘if there is a next time’ and you rolled your eyes; he never really liked sharing you. You smiled at Jay and extended your hand forward, “Join us?”

The pure need lacing your words, your scent calling out to him, the way he felt his cock getting soaked with precum all pulled him deeper into the recesses of his brain. The mounting desperation to stuff you full of his cock finally reached a fever pitch.

And before he knew it, Jay was lying next to you. He could see Heeseung over on your other side; he looked as if he had died from the mind-blowing orgasm you had given him.

Your arms circled his shoulders, clawing at the smooth skin. “Need your cock so bad, Jay.” Jay was about to implode from the inside at your sparkling doe-eyes. Who was he to refuse such a pretty girl like you?

The head of his cock pushes between your folds momentarily before he's teasing your labia, slipping the underside of his tip over it in lazy, noisy circles until you whine.

“J-Jay..” You whimpered, feeling his hard tip nudge your aching cunt, “daddy, don't tease”

“You’re right, baby, I’m sorry,” he croons, pressing his lips to your hair as he notches his cock at your dripping entrance and slowly begins to push in. “You’re being so good for daddy aren't you?”

"Fuck...oh God.." you cry out slightly as he pressed your chest to his, his hand wrapped snug around your body. "Damn it.." he huffed slightly when you squeezed around him, his eyebrows knitting down.

He groaned deeply, gritting his teeth as he pressed in further, each inch a battle against the tight, molten heat that grips him like a vice. Your body shuddered as he filled you, your slick warmth pulling him deeper and deeper, and he sank further in until he’s fully seated, his hips flush with yours.

“pussy’s so fucking tight,” he grates, his hand cupping the back of your neck, coaxing you to look at him, lips close enough to taste the heat radiating from his skin, “squeezing me so good, baby.”

"Ah—ah!" you gasp, your voice breathy, edged with desperation as he pushes you to the brink of insanity "Harder—daddy, want it harder…."

"Look at you," he breathed, "takin' me so well. Perfect little cunt, fuck-"

Your eyelids fluttered and your mouth dropped open, his filthy words pushing you closer and closer to your peak. You felt the heat pooling low at the base of your spine and your breathing was reduced to sharp gasps.

His hands pushed and pulled your body up and down—fast—and it had your fingers digging into his chest for balance.

"Shit...feels so good," he moaned, jaw slack and eyes glassy as he watched you whine and writhe. Sweat dotted your forehead and you felt that familiar crest swelling deep inside.

"Jay—" you pant, voice cracked and hoarse.

"I got you, sweetheart," he murmured before harshly snapping his hips. You moaned his name and squeezed your eyes shut, the angle stealing your breath and making your thighs shake. A hand pressed on the base of your spine, pushing you down and holding you still while he fucked up into you. Each bruising thrust had you whimpering into his neck but you're so fucking close, you just sit there and take it until the dam breaks and you practically screamed out his name, your voice echoing off the walls in the dark.

“You’re really enjoying yourselves without me aren’t you?” Heeseung’s voice cut through the air like a hot knife through butter, “What amazing friends I have.” Though your ears were ringing too loudly and your blood was pumping too fast, you still felt his hot breath waver down your neck and back.

“We are.” Jay roughly responded; his thrusts had slowed down considerably and he was now looking at Heeseung, “And if you wanna join us hyung, quit whining already.”

“That impatient for some pussy huh?” Heeseung smirks and presses the head of his cock agasint your ass You savor the delicious stretch of him as he pushes his hips forward, nails scratching the skin of Jay’s back with the motion, your walls squeezing around Jay’s shaft, “Fuck—pretty ass always remembers me doesnt she?”

You gasp with a nod, arching your back as Heeseung suddenly fills you completely. Your nails dig even deeper, maybe even drawing blood on Jay’s back. You turn to look at Heeseung and instantly see the hunger in his eyes. Jay’s hands grip your hips and he starts to move, slow and deliberate at first. Each thrust sends finite sparks of pleasure through your body, helpless to the small moans that escape your lips.

“Heeseung!” You’d squeal. “Fucking hell….”

“Using your big girl words, baby?” Heeseung chuckles breathily as he eases inside of you, but his length is astounding, nudging deep against your back before he’s even fully sheathed. His thrusts are fumbling at first, hearing the deep breaths he takes as he adjusts to the intense feeling around his cock.

Jay leans in slightly, mesmerized by your twisted expression of obvious pleasure but also at how fucking amazing your pussy felt as it hugged his hug so warmly.He felt a jolt of electricity through him with each kiss of his cock against your cervix, in the way your lips fit in the junction of his neck, in the red welts your nails left on the skin of his back.

Eventually the two men find a steady rhythm that had you gasping with every thrust, fingers crawling up Jay’s bare back until you reach his face, fingers curling around the back of his neck as you moan like a girl in a porno drooling over the sheets.

A broken, shaky noise falls from Heeseung’s lips as he buries his face in your neck. He mouths at your skin desperately, presses his nose to where your scent is the strongest.

You whine, Jay’s back was probably all scarred by now, as the room fills with the lewd sound of skin on skin. Heeseung always liked it rough, plus—you'd known him long enough to know how he liked to channel his anger into sex. And he was fucking good at it. You'd take it, again and again, as harsh as he wanted to give. Because you knew that as soon as you were done, he'd be scrambling to pepper soft kisses along your neck, praising you for how good you'd been for him.

The ache between your legs forms into a burn from how hard they fuck you, chasing their own high now. Your lips press weak kisses against Jay's throat. You feel the vibrations from his grunts and the salty taste of his skin.

“You like that baby?” Heeseung chuckles, “You like the way our cocks fill you up?” Jay chuckles as well.

“Yeah she does.” He accentuates every word with a harsh, toe curling thrust, “Our pretty little slut.”

The pressure is mind-numbing, your walls clenching around them in rhythmic pulses that make your vision blur. Jay stills for just a second, savoring the way your body stretches around him, hugging him in a way that feels like it was made for him alone.

You feel yourself on the brink of coming undone, every stroke of Jay’s cock pushing you closer to tumbling over the edge. The fluttering tell of your cunt steals a moan deep from Jay’s chest. He picks up the pace of his thrusts with a steeled jaw, the bed frame squeaking noisily against the tiled floor as he rocks you back and forth unrelentingly.

Heeseung clenched his teeth as his balls slapped against your ass. He kept muttering something under his breath as he aggressively rammed his cock headlong into you. You just let yourself be led, he had full control over you and you fucking loved it.

He bottomed out and went all the way to the hilt, his tip kissing your cervix. You cry out as his balls slapped against your ass with each thrust, the sound mixed in with the already lewd noises of your moans and wet slapping.

“Dirty fucking baby.” he panted, his hot breath sending additional shivers down your spine, “Getting what you wanted, sweetheart?” His words rasped between short breaths.

You merely whimper to his question, too fucked out to say anything at all. Soon, however, the conflicted mewls melt into a rhythmic string of delicate, short moans, so pretty it’s like a practiced song.

“Need to cum—ahh ah!” you beg breathlessly, and you can feel the movement of their cocks speeding up as they get desperate. Jay sucks in a breath through his teeth at your plaintive request—the words bring him that much closer to finishing.

“Please,” you whispered, and it’s the first word that you’ve been able to make out in the last several moments, “Please, please, please—” You’re so desperate that it borders on pathetic, you’re practically whining with need, “Fuck, I need—I need-”

It was so cliche. The need to finish that sentence was gone as you couldn’t control it, feeling the knot tied so uncomfortably tightly in your pelvis untie. You tried to keep it back, hold it in but it refused; your hips wriggled uncontrollably as your orgasm came ripping through your body.

You cum with a broken sob, an intense wave of ecstasy washing over as Jay works you masterfully through your orgasm. Heeseung’s approving moan mingles with your cries of pleasure, working silently at your ass as you work through your frantic breathing, palming Jay’s back gently at his squeezes comfortingly at your thighs.

The ache in your cunt is devastating but both of them watch with admiration as the opaque liquid pushes out of your hole as your cunt spasms. Flashes of release spraying your insides play behind Heeseung’s closed eyes, thoughts of drenching you so thoroughly that it has to take only forcing his hips to slam against the rippling muscle of your ass like you have your own magnetic pull.

Jay’s cock curved inside of you, kissing a soft spot that you weren’t even aware you had. His pace slowed, becoming sloppier, rushed, his hips snappy. The way your walls squeezed around him, trying to milk him till he was dry, it made him let out a deep sigh.

You slumped back in Heeseung’s arms just as both of them slowly pulled out, making you whimper. Your pussy was probably dead by now and a wave of relief passed through you as you realised you had a rest day tomorrow. There was no way in hell your legs could function properly for another three weeks.

"You alright, baby?" Heeseung pressed a soft kiss to your temple. You chuckled.

"I'm at least more alive than he is." You poked at the lifeless, snoring body of Jay, who looked as if he had attained eternal peace.

"Better follow in his footsteps then." Heeseung laughed, and pressed another kiss as you relaxed into his body, "Night, baby."

"Goodnight, Heeseung." You yawned and let him hold you close to his body, providing you with intimate comfort. You smiled to yourself before you drifted off to sleep.

What a productive day it had been.

[cbuumbbles]

[Decode Pt. 2] Self-Aware! Caleb x fem!reader

CW: Smut, this shits gonna get freakyyy, 18+ MDNI. (Contains: egregious squirting, vaginal fisting, cunnilingus, unrealistic belly bulge, HES GOT A HUGE PENIS GUYS, so many orgasms, water breaks to stay hydrated, size kink ??, def hand kink, dacryphilia, misuse of evol, drooling, choking, tummy appreciation in missionary, breeding kink too possibly?? not really, but maybe if you squint, idk if I’m missing anything else w/ out spoiling). SORRY FOR THIS LAUNDRY LIST. I got carried away :p

Summary: You and Caleb had been dating for a while now and your needs couldn't be more met than they are with him.

A/N: Hi people! If you haven't read part 1, go read it! Part 1 is not freaky btw. This is my second time writing for this godforsaken website. So I still don't know how to make it look fancy. Bare with me. Anywho! I hope you enjoy, this is my first time in a long time writing smut, so if it's bad, just tell me nicely so I can fix it. Also sorry this took so long to get out after part 1, I have had 0 time to write.

Part 1

Caleb had finally convinced you to quit your job so he could take care of you full time. You loved the time off, he made sure to pamper you too. Your nails were always done, hair trimmed, and your back massaged. When he wasn't home, you started having to get creative with ways to entertain yourself. He had bought you a vibrator a while back which helped entertain you until he got home. You'd think it'd wear you out by the time he got home, but something inside of you was like an insatiable beast that needed to jump on Caleb as soon as he got home from work. Caleb loved every second of it, he loved giving you as much pleasure as you wanted. If you thought you were spoiled before you got together, you haven't seen anything yet. Caleb would do anything you asked him to, and you've asked him to do a lot. He's always happy to oblige and eager to please you. Being able to code anything about your reality was a life saver. Since he knew what you liked, he coded himself to be able to give you the maximum amount of pleasure you'd ever want. He was also surprised about how you weren't completely dehydrated all of the time, but he made sure you drank plenty of water, even having water breaks in the middle of sex to keep you from passing out.

Right now, you were using your vibrator on your shared bed, waiting for Caleb to come home. All you could think about was how good it's gonna feel once you start feeling his fingers filling you up. You started to imagine his fingers teasing your folds, gathering your wetness and spreading it around. His thick fingers were something you drooled over every time you saw them, they were perfect and all you could picture in your mind when you saw them was how nice they feel pumping inside of you. The vivid fantasies started to feel real when you swear you can feel his fingers start to slip inside of your dripping pussy. They felt so real that you opened your eyes to find Caleb, home from work. "Hi princess, I'm home." He whispers, smiling at you while his fingers were pulling squelching sounds from you. It was embarrassing how wet he could get you. But he knew all of the places he needed to get to in order for you to get undone on his fingers. He bent down, using his tongue to lap up some of the mess you were making. "Always taste amazin', pretty." He praised you. You were moaning in response, unable to form proper words. But that's how he always had you, it was like magic. He could melt your mind in an instant with just his fingers, something he was extremely proud of. All you could say was 'more' and 'Caleb,' it was like a mantra. He sticks another finger in, making it a total of three, but he knew you could handle the whole fist tonight, you were sopping. The spot under you was drenched in your squirt. He loved how messy you were and that he was the only one who could get you to that point.

"I- close, Caleb 'm close." You hurried out, he kept his same pace as you felt the white hot pleasure building in your stomach. The journey to the orgasm was almost as pleasurable as letting go, maybe it was because you knew what was about to happen.

"Come on, angel, come on my fingers." He coaxed, his words being the final push that sends you over the edge. You moan and whine out his name as you feel your pussy pulse around his fingers, squeezing them in. As you ride out your high on his fingers, the feeling fades and you start working yourself up again. He adds another finger, making it four and you feel amazing, on cloud nine. The water works were going everywhere and you couldn't shut your mouth, as hard as you tried. You were making a mess of Caleb, thankfully he undressed himself before starting in on you, you could see drops of your squirt on his chest which made you incredibly more horny somehow. "You're doing so good, takin' me so well, pretty. You think you can handle the whole fist now?" He asked. All you could do was nod your head fervently. "I wanna hear your words baby, think you can do that for me, or are you too fucked out to speak?" He knew the answer, anything past three and you were completely melted. "My dumb little angel forgot how to speak. You're lucky I know you so well, I know exactly what you need." He coos, adding the last finger. You could feel him reaching every possible spot he needed to, his fingers stretching you out and getting you ready for his cock. You felt that familiar feeling start building up again as you suck in his fingers subconsciously. He could tell you were getting close by the way your walls were spasming around his hand. "You're so greedy with my fingers baby, it's makin' me jealous. You're taking me so well, pretty. Getting all stretched out for what's coming later. Gettin' so wet for me, you're drenching the bed. You're doing such a good job, princess. Come all over my fingers." He spoke, all of his praises going straight to your core as you felt that burning hot feeling again.

"Caleb, Caleb, Caleb." You repeated in quick succession, you could feel your release rapidly approaching.

"That's it, come on, angel. Let yourself go, beautiful." He says. His encouraging words help you focus on getting to your release and when you finally snap, it's just as intense as last time. You pulse around his fist and your legs start shaking. You know that tomorrow will have to be a recovery day for, the night is still long from over. "Let me get a taste, baby. Can you sit up for me?" He asks, you try your hardest, able to get to your knees. Your brain was fried and all you cared about was getting more. He handed you your water as you took slow sips, learning not to chug it all at once by now. "Sweet girl, that feel better?" He asks, taking the water back to set it down, as you nod your head. He lays down on the bed and you know exactly what he wants. You hover yourself above his head, staring down at him through tired lids. He grabs your thighs and pulls you down onto his face, he moans in pleasure as a response. "So good, angel. Taste so good." He moans into your pussy, using his tongue to fuck your hole while his nose was rubbing into your clit. You couldn't help your hands traveling down to his head to push him up further into you, using your hips to grind on his face. You were so spoiled, using his face like this, but he loved every second of it. You tasted tart which reminded him of his favorite fruits. You could hear him sucking everywhere he could get his mouth on, it felt so good. You desuctioned yourself from Caleb's mouth, with a wet plop and a whine from him, to turn around to put your hands on his chest. Now he was nose deep in your pussy and his tongue was working on your clit. You fucked his nose, hearing the sound of labored breathing through his muffled mouth. You saw his hips buck up into the air as he was holding you down on his face like a vice.

You just tasted too good, the remnants of squirt still coating your sex. His moans were deep with a heavy vibration that you felt throughout your entire body. It was enough to have you heaving for air as you got closer to your third release, from him, that night. He began sucking on your clit, tonguing it while the pressure from the suction helped get you off. The suction started building your release as you started getting desperate for release. "Please Caleb. I need it so so so bad." You beg, it coming out labored from how little you could focus on anything other than releasing on his face. The sounds of his muffled moaning mixed with the wet sounds coming from both of you were what you focused on to finally snap and pulse your cunt onto his face. You could hear his muffled praises from underneath you as he worked you through your third orgasm of the night.

He lifted you off of his face and flipped your positions with ease. You think you're finally ready for his dick, but he has other plans. "I'm not done tasting you yet. I didn't get nearly enough time with that gorgeous pussy in my face." He said, your slick coating and dripping off his face. He dips his head between your legs again and starts his attack on your sensitive bud again. You jolt in response from how sensitive you were. You felt like you had nothing more to give, but every time Caleb would start up again, you'd be proven wrong. There was a battle in your mind. You wanted to go to bed for the night, but you also wanted every single orgasm he was about to give you. You buck up into his face, grabbing his head to push it down into you, but your hands are pulled from him and held by an invisible force. You whine, trying to fight his evol holding you down. "If you weren't so greedy, I wouldn't have to keep your hands above your head." He comments, looking at you while sticking two fingers in your hole. You gasped, your eyes rolling to the back of your head. His fingers were pushing against your gummy walls, hitting every spot with a precision that made you favor fingers over anything else. Caleb knew your preference and made sure to spoil you. You felt him go back to sucking on your clit, still pumping his fingers into you. It was like he was the conductor of the most beautiful sounding symphony and you didn't want it to end. Everything was so overwhelming that you couldn't help but beg, but you didn't know what you were begging for. Caleb loved hearing your pleading voice repeating his name. He loved breaking your mind with pleasure. There wasn't a time that the sex you had together didn't end up in you becoming a drooling mess. You tasted amazing, he couldn't get over it. If they made a drink inspired by you, he'd drink it every day. He couldn't get enough of you, because, just like him, he is just as insatiable as you are. He'd eat you out all night if he you'd last without passing out. You definitely last longer now, you're able to have more orgasms in one session. You used to get wiped out after two, but he's trained you to go to four. Tonight he wants to try for six, he knows you're ready, that you're so good for him. His tongue wouldn't relent, keeping a sickening, steady pace that made your mind swim with thoughts that were nothing but Caleb. The combination of everything with the steady pace he was keeping and his moans into your sex made the feeling start to build up again. Your moaning turned into whines and whimpers the closer you got to finishing. You could feel tears threatening to spill from the overwhelming amount of times you've came and you didn't know what number Caleb planned on stopping at. He loved making you orgasm, it was one of his favorite things to do. He also loved watching tears roll down your face from how overwhelming the pleasure was.

"Caleb!" You whined out as you were pushed over the edge again, for your forth orgasm. Your breaths were uneven as you tried to come back down. He kept going until you rode out your high, stopping to grab your water again, knowing you'd need it after how much fluid you lost. Again, you sip it, tears drying streaks onto your face, your hair a wild mess from all of the thrashing you were doing and Caleb didn't think there was a prettier sight in the world.

"So pretty baby, such a mess for me. Like a work of art." Caleb was no artist, but he thought that if he were, you'd be his best work. Your chest was heaving as you took in breaths through your nose as you kept sipping the water. Your eyes were closed and you felt ready to fall asleep, but you also craved more. You wanted his cock and thankfully that was the next part of the night. "You ready, angel?" He asked you. You just nodded, handing your water to him with your eyes still closed. "Are you too sleepy?" He asked causing you to groan in protest. He had fucked all of the words out of you. "Alright then, greedy." He narrowed his eyes at you, like a predator with their prey.

You feel his evol moving your legs, folding you in half. Then you felt him hovering over top of you. You open your eyes to see a slice of heaven. His face was glistening with sweat and your juices, same with his chest. You could smell your arousal on him now and it made you realize he had been too busy eating your cunt to even kiss you yet, so you wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him into one. You can taste yourself on his lips as your tongues meet together, fighting for dominance. Neither won, but the war was still raging. You bit his bottom lip to surprise him. He moaned in response, taking the hint and doing the same thing back. Your fingers were tangled in his hair to try and pull him closer to you because he never seemed close enough. You desperately wanted to wrap your legs around his torso to slam him down onto you, but he still had his evol holding your legs in that stretching position. You whined into the kiss, wanting friction from him so badly. “Please, Caleb. I need you.” You whimpered, looking at him with the most desperate look in your eyes. He couldn’t say no to you, especially not when you were looking at him like that.

You had taken him many times before, but you still needed a pretty big warm up before he could penetrate you. Saying his cock was big was an understatement. It caused a delicious belly bulge every time he’d go in. “Alright honey, I’m gonna start sliding it in.” He warned you. You felt his tip prod at your entrance making you impatiently eager. The first feeling of his cock entering you made you gasp. It was never not shocking to feel how girthy he was. You felt him keep going and you thought he must almost be done by now, until you heard him say. “Tip’s almost in, honey. You’re doing amazing.” And with that a final pop and his tip was officially in. Now the real challenge was being able to take all of him in. You hated leaving some of his dick out; you didn’t think it was fair for some of his dick to have a taste and the other part left in the dust. This is where the previous size training comes in handy. You can handle all of him, it just takes time to get it all in. After that, it’s smooth sailing.

“God, Caleb.” You choke out, eyes going wide at the sensation of how full you were feeling already.

“Don’t tell me you’re already quitting? We’re not even half way yet, angel.” He teases you.

“No, please keep going. Need more.” You muttered, gripping his biceps for dear life. As full as you felt, he was right, you were so greedy. He loved how you always craved so much of him. He was happy to oblige. He kept sliding further into you that you could feel him in unusual places, but you loved it. You craved it. You couldn’t wait to see him poking through your tummy.

“Almost there, love. Doing so well for me. Takin’ me like you were made for me, baby.” His praises made you throb around his dick, which earned a hiss from him. “Careful, princess.” He warns. You feel the last of him bottom out with his balls on your ass. “Did so good for me. Look at that.” He said, forcing your head, with his evol, to look at the bulge he made. The sight literally made you drool. You were shocked it took you this long to start drooling, but the sight before you was delicious. You detangle one of your hands from his hair to press down on it. You both moaned in response. He starts thrusting and you started seeing stars. He went slow at first, like always, to ease you into it. You knew his mercy wouldn’t last for much longer. Instead of begging for a faster pace, you relished in the calm before the storm. That surprised Caleb considering you were usually whining at him at this point. He figured it must’ve been because of how many orgasms you had that night. Still more to come! “Always so tight for me.” Caleb manages to grunt out. He loved missionary because he got to watch your tits bounce up and down. Your cute little tummy made the same bouncing movements too that he loved.

Then he sped up and you were gripping his biceps like a lifeline. Your face was dug into his neck, biting into his shoulder and accidentally drooling on it. Caleb loved witnessing you turn to mush beneath him. It was a feeling he would never get over, he'd do it forever if you'd let him. You looked perfect, your sweat was making your hair stick to your forehead and it gave your skin a beautiful glow. Your flushed cheeks were calling out to him to kiss them. He peppered your cheeks in kisses as you moaned out his name. You felt yourself building to climax again, this was past your limit. You knew you could do more, Caleb always brought it out in you. Your squirt was spraying up from being smacked into, it was a mess. You could tell how much Caleb loved it by the feral sounds he was making paired with the aggressive thrusting. He had you hovering off of the bed now, holding you up with his arms and keeping your thighs at torso level with his evol. He was grunting in your ear, telling you how beautiful you were, how much he loved you, and other sweet nothings. It helped push you over the edge to the point where you were gripping so hard on his biceps that your fingers turned white and half moons from your fingernails would linger for a couple of days. "Caleb." You whined out, your voice coming out in waves of volume that matched the thrusts he was pounding into you.

"That's it baby, you got it. You're almost done." He said. With every steady, rough thrust, you could feel the build getting faster and faster until eventually it all climaxed and you started pulsing around him, once again. His dick had finally had a taste of your orgasm pulsing around him. It was like you were trying to milk him. He could've came, but he knew he needed to last a little longer to pull that one last sweet orgasm from you. "'m not done yet, princess. Just hold on until I can fill you up." He instructs you, causing you to moan. His pace was relentless and it felt sweet going in and out of you. You were addicted to it at that point, wanting to feel him stuffing your pussy full forever. You'll have to ask if you can cockwarm him sometime soon. He'd obviously agree, but he wouldn't make it easy for you.

He flips you over, using his strength to arch your back and choke you from behind. He used his evol to keep your head back while he stuck two fingers in your mouth. The slight pressure his evol added to your neck was addictive. You sucked and bit down on his fingers, moaning his name. He felt so much bigger from behind that it was almost ridiculous. Your whimpers and whines faded into the distance only to be replaced by viceral moans as he pounded into you with a sickening pace. The noises coming from your sex was like music to your ears. His fingers in your mouth caused you to drool more. Thankfully, you were in the spare bedroom so that way you could change the sheets and clean the mattress and still have a bed to lie down in to get aftercare. Because with the way you were making a mess out of both ends, you'd need a dry place to sleep. "Mmm." You loudly whine, feeling it build up again.

"You almost there again, already?" He teased you. He loved looking at you from behind too. He loved looking at you from any position really. He thought you were the most beautiful angelic person to ever exist. "Come on baby, let's cum together. I'm gonna fill you up." He said as his hands dwared your hips as he began to hold them to slam you back into him. Your tears started up again as they began to stream down your face.

You felt it build up and up and up until it finally spilled over, you spasmed on his cock, feeling impaled. "Thank you, thank you, thank you." You said over and over again like a mantra.

"Fuck baby, I'm cumming." He groaned, pumping his cock into you. You could feel him paint your pulsing walls. It all felt so warming, it could put you to sleep. He pumped his last few times to finish inside of you, pulling out of you and immediately pulling you into him for a much needed hug. "So beautiful and perfect. I love you so much, honey." He said, using the nickname you used to have when you'd fake date. Those same butterflies from back then found their way to your stomach too.

"Mm, love you too... S'much." You muttered out as best you could. You could tell you were fading fast. All you wanted was to fall asleep in his arms while he played with your hair. You also realized how thirsty you were too. "Water?" You asked. He was already one step ahead of you, holding the straw up to your lips. You took sips, making contented sighs as you leaned back into him. This was heaven, you were sure of it. Every day he'd treat your needs as the top priority. You couldn't express how much you truly loved him. It was impossible because there weren't grand enough words to describe it.

"Let's get to bed, baby. You look so tired." He cooed at you, lifting you up and carrying you into your shared bedroom. He laid you down in the bed, going to grab a towel to clean the mess in between your thighs. "You did so well. Six in one session. And that's not even counting the ones you had before I got home. You're so amazing baby. I knew you could do it." He spoke on his way back from the bathroom. He cleaned me and then him, tucking me into the covers and turning on the ceiling fan. He threw the towel in the dirty laundry and finally joined me in bed. By the time he climbed in beside me, I was already half asleep. He turned me around to cuddle me into his chest and I fell asleep with a content smile on my face with his fingers playing with my hair.

[no1blacksapphirefan]

Hi, hello, just found your blog and I really like it! It's nice here

Anywho, I was slightly curious about your self-aware crk au, and wanted to request something if that's okay!

What I'm really curious about is how do cookies react when you pick them up just to hold them and put them back down/to interactive decorations? How do they react when you drag them over to the castle and let them sit there? (I still find that feature endearing, haha, you can only imagine how many times I've put the deceitful trio/ancients/just the cookies I like there)

Another funny thing to think about is how ancients (and beasts) react if you make the castle look like theirs. Like, select the design of it based on the respective kingdoms?

I thank you very much for the wholesome and funny content, keep up the good work, those are interesting to read :)

Hihiii, thank you so much I'm glad you've enjoyed your time here <33 I'm very happy you find my writing for these silly cookies interesting and entertaining to read. Honestly never thought this account would grow this quickly hehehehe

Onwards to the thoughts!! Chose random cookies for this request

Black Sapphire oho he doesn't mind it one bit. You wish to see him sit at a table? Of course, want to put him at that altar decor with your mycookie? Oh he'd love too, even if it's not actually official. Just want to see him water some flowers? Anything.

Some things he enjoys more than others of course but if you genuinely enjoy just placing him somewhere where he can interact with it? Sure, seeing you smile at such silly things is entertaining to him afterall. He'll make sure to tease you when he escapes though.

Shadow Milk He defo has his favourite decor he loves interacting with, and he loves it more when you directly lead him there. And if he had any decor that was specifically for him? He's giddy when you but it, especially if it costed you gems.

Such a precious currency, yet you use it to buy his decor. Bring him over to it more, or well...if you don't he probably will walk all the way there unless you make him work.

He loves sitting at your castle as well, he stays there for as long as he could, he's even willing to stay forever. (I can see him get annoyed if he can't interact with certain decor, he deserves your attention and you putting him there)

Golden Cheese If I recall, there's a decor for her that is a throne right? Yeah she loves when you place her on that, it's a throne specially for her which adds to it.

There's a reason she sits the way she does on it, she's very proud of the fact you got it for her, seemingly specially for her too. Just watching you buy things for her and fellow cookies special for them, makes her feel so lucky to have you as their "God"

Dark Cacao he loves peacefully sitting on some of the decor, whether that be the the benches, cushions or the castle. He finds it peaceful, plus he's able to sit there for awhile without needing to get up unless you need him too.

While he can still do it on his own volition (haha see what I did there?), having you do it...he doesn't know why, but it's different. He has sworn for most of his life to protect earthbread and his kingdom, it was his duty he never wanted to stop. But within your kingdom walls, as long as you were there. He didn't have to worry about it.

So being able to, in better terms. Relax, and it's you essentailly making him relax. It makes him happy. He prefers the sitting decor but if there's any more interactable ones he's happy to do it for you.

[custardtartsfan]

You have a spending problem, and i love you - Jason Todd x reader short

helloooo so i still have two exams and cant write the stories id like to just yet. But i can edit and post my writers craft works. cuz like all i did in that class was write fan fiction. anywho i hope you enjoy yay

“Babe- okay. I love you. But also comma, we already have a candle for like every surface in the apartment.” Jason said with the tone of someone who is VERY used to his partner. He was met with a pouty face and a wistful sigh

“But…Jay..it's a tomato.”

y/n complained, cradling the tomato shaped candle in their hands and looking at it like it was their newborn they're being forced to give up. Jason sighed deeply. 

“Uh huh. It sure is. But we already have one in the basket that's a wiener dog. We don't need two novelty candles in one Winners trip, that's ridiculous.” Jason explained gently, patting her back. Irene didn't look convinced. “What if..we got one huh? Tomato or the dog, you pick”. y/n gasped, offended. 

“I can't get rid of the dog! He looks like Sprinkles.” y/n protested, removing one hand from the tomato candle so they could pick up and cradle the dog candle with it.

“Babe Sprinkles is a cat. He looks nothing like that.”

“Yeah but he's an animal.”  y/n protests, looking down at their candles. Jason rolled his eyes.

“Sweetheart, pick one. We're not getting them both.” he said firmly. He sighed again when they made a face like he was personally traumatizing them. “Babe, this isn't a Sophie's Choice, don't look at me like that.  One. Candle.” He reiterates rigidly. You can't always be fun boyfriend, that's a circus. 

“Don't say that. That's not funny.” y/n chastised him. Jason just snorted.

“Well you don't read books. You only know movies, I'm tailoring my references to you.” He said lightly, trying not to laugh at how pissy they looked. “If I said it's not a Daisy Buchanan’s choice you wouldn't have gotten it.” He snickered, y/n was less amused. 

“I know Gatsby, Jay, I finished highschool.” they murmured. “Unlike some of us.” Jason just laughed harder. 

“Yea I was preoccupied with being dead sweetheart.” He said with a smirk. “And i don't think you need a GED to fight crime illegally”. That actually got a snort out of y/n. they looked down at her candles again.

“mm..I guess it doesn't look like Sprinkles.” they said putting the wiener dog down. Jason let out a sigh of pure relief. 

“Great. Amazing. Now let's get the hell out of here.” Jason smiled, taking the basket and making a beeline for the checkout so they couldn't pick up any more sea life themed claw clips or pink patterned hand towels. He put an arm around her shoulder while they walked, putting the metaphorical horse blinders on her. “We need to stop coming here, this place exists to prey on recovering trinket addicts like yourself.” Jason said quietly to himself. But y/n heard, and it got a laugh out of them. 

“..Yea probably.” they giggled. “We should get froyo after this.” Jason rolled his eyes, but there was no real annoyance behind it.  

“Should we now?” He asked, looking down at them. “Why’s that?” 

“You've denied me my candle, the least I deserve is mango yogurt.” they nodded. Jason sighed playfully a third time. 

“We're never gonna retire. You spend all my money, our future children will inherit nothing.” He joked, already pulling out his phone to see where the closest froyo place is.

This one was inspired by a conversation i overheard in a winners between a girl and her boyfriend who was trying, in the nicest way possible, to steer her away from buying a heart shaped dutch oven despite her not enjoying cooking at all. it made be giggle

[crunchystarz]

TWST SELF AWARE AU—series

|Overblot boys x Gn!reader

Cw- this is a yandere series so the basic stuff like obsessive and possessive behavior, isolation all that good yandere stuff will be present (remember none of this behavior is healthy nor do I condone it this is purely for entertainment pls take care of yourselves)

Summary: You're just a college student trying to survive, you download a game out of pure curiosity and boredom, you really get into it soon your app starts acting strange. Hey are your things being moved around? You don't remember falling asleep in your bed. Perchance you're losing your mind— or there are 7 guys who all equally want your attention and overloaded their code to get it.

A/n: my twst self aware au has been some of my most popular posts and I get the most asks/req for it, it also so happens to be my favorite to write so I wanted to actually make a fic with it with actual plot and story— there is a category in my master list for all the other stuff with that au but none of it is really needed to understand the plot!(It will still be following main ideas abt this au ofc) This is short and really just an introduction🙂‍↕️

☆PROLOGUE—

Prologue [you are here] , CHAP1

You were tired, your eye bags proved that. They were heavy and a clear sign of the lack of sleep you had been getting the last few days. You finally got some rest time after you finished turning in work for your finals. Classes have started to be less hectic and work hasn't been as bad. You could relax. You lay in bed, scrolling through your recommended list for apps on your phone. One in particular catches your eye. You don't strike yourself as a huge Disney fan. Sure you liked some of the movies and shows mostly stuff you had enjoyed since you were young but you never were super extreme about it.

Twisted Wonderland. Interesting concept for a game. You rolled over in your side and swiped through the information on it. You let out a yawn before clicking download. A game based on Disney villains how intriguing besides It would be nice to have more things on your phone other than whatever free games came pre-installed. You rubbed your eyes, waiting for the downloading bar to complete.

After a few minutes of staring at your screen the download was complete. You opened the app. Too tired to use your brain to come up with a good name for your character you just left it blank. Yuu was good enough for you not like you were going to play the game too much anywho.

Turns out you were going to play the game a lot more than you'd like to admit. The story was fun you enjoyed the characters and it also had a gacha aspect. What could you say it kept you quite entertained throughout the day. You started getting into the fandom culture a bit even. You especially liked the overblot boys , they were your favorites.

You didn't know you were their favorite too.

You tapped away at your phone in your apartment elevator. You had come back from a mandatory lecture, you were beyond tired and you felt your eyes fighting the urge to close. Yet you had to do your dailies. You opened the app you had been obsessing over the past week.

"Huh?" You exclaimed out loud. Causing the others in the elevator to give you weird looks. You awkwardly laughed and hurried out the elevator. Leona was present on your home screen but last time you checked it should have been Jamil. How odd. Maybe you just forgot you had changed it. Ended up embarrassing yourself in front of people you don't know over something so silly.

You sighed as you fumbled with your keys. You'd never been happier to see your apartment. You sat down your bags on the chair near your island before making your way over to your couch and crashing. You didn't have the energy to go all the way to your room even if it wasn't much of a walk.

You pulled back at your phone and stared at the screen for awhile just watching Leona's character idly blink and occasionally speak. Something felt off, something about his character made you feel a little uncomfortable. He felt too real.

What are you talking about? You're going crazy. You're just tired and need some rest. You rolled over and tapped his character. His ears twitch and his face scrunches up slightly. Was he...blushing? You hadn't seen this Sprite before. Maybe it came with the update?

Too sleepy to care you turned off your device and snuggled into the throw pillow on your couch. You needed some rest.

—

Leona was a fool. A huge fool but he didn't care when he could almost feel you through the screen. Jamil was still pissed at him but how could he care?

He was one of the first few to realize something was wrong. Something was wrong with their world. Something was up with the little perfect of ramshackle. Ruggie called him paranoid yet something about the way they carried themselves was too practiced too perfect. It unsettled him, made his fur stick up.

His paranoia branched out to obsessive behavior. Yuu was odd. Magicless human from another world were odd in itself but something about them. He soon found out he wasn't the only one who had taken an interest in the perfect . He knew he wasn't going crazy there was something wrong with them. Something wrong with him. With everyone in that damn school.

Fake. All of it was fake. Leona found that out. He saw you first. The real you. Not the illusion that stood in your place.You. Maybe it was because it was the first real thing he'd ever actually felt. Something stirred in him. It wasn't programmed in him to feel. He wasn't supposed to.

Unfortunately like stated before he wasn't the only one who became too curious and learned too much. Everyone who was victim to the unusual overblots became hyper aware of their existence. Of how everything about them was mere programming and code. It was all a game. Their entire lives was nothing but something strug together by some unknown creator.

But you were real. You were the only thing real and they became obsessed with that. They all craved your attention all craved to learn more because you were the only thing that was real. You were like their god nothing mattered but you. Not your stand in persona Yuu no —you. You were theirs. You just didn't know it yet.

You were blissfully unaware of the seven guys behind your phone screen who stopped paying attention to all around them because why would they? What's the point if they're not actually real. They're just characters built to co-exist with them. Not important not real. Not you

MASTERLIST

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

jealous hotchner because he can’t take his brother flirting with you so he shows you who you belong to 😘😘😘 (as in he wasn’t aware he liked you like that until he saw his brother with you and realised he didn’t want sean doing to you what he wants to do to you)

ps. you are an amazing writer and i love your work 🩷

ೇ bathroom bitch ― aaron hotchner .ᐟ

pairing .ᐟ aaron hotchner x plus size!reader

summary | things change thanks to the helpful youngest hotchner (or aaron's a little oblivious but then realizes he's jealous and you guys have sex in the bathroom at work).

warnings | yet ANOTHER pwp, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, mentioned vaginal fingering, rough sex, doggy style, backshots, mirror sex, bathroom sex, dom!aaron hotchner, sub!reader, dom/sub dynamics, kind of mean dom!aaron, he's just being a little mean, but only 'cause he's jealous, the reader is enjoying every second of it though, a lot of dirty talk, teasing, ass smacking (like once), implied oral sex at the end (m rec), they just match each other's freak.

wordcount | 1048

۶ৎ a/n .ᐟ | WOW EXCUSE ME WHILE I GO AND DISAPPEAR INTO A HOLE NOW!! this is just a whole mess if i'm going to be honest, but in like... a good way. i don't know if this aaron is ooc 'cause usually he's sweet in most of my fics, but this is just a whole different ball field!

— links .ᐟ masterlist | ao3

You really, really had no idea how you ended up here, but somehow you were pulled to the side by your boss and found yourself tugged into the gender-neutral bathrooms.

Your lips were rolled between your teeth and your eyes were squeezed shut tightly in order to try to keep the sounds of pleasure from spilling between your teeth. Your hands curled into the counter of the sink, head hanging low. 

Aaron’s large palms gripped at the fat of your hips, your pencil skirt shoved up and over your waist, your panties pulled halfway down your thighs before they sat on top of your knees that were squeezed together. It was hard to keep yourself still in your heels, but you were determined to be good for him, just like he had asked.

One moment you were sitting at your desk chatting away with Sean, the youngest Hotchner brother when Aaron had come storming over, mentioning something about, “Leaving his Agent,” Alone. The tone was unfamiliarly possessive, but you would be lying if you said you hadn’t felt his brooding from atop of the stairs near his office.

You could always feel him near you, it was like your body was pulled towards the earth that was Aaron Hotchner. 

You could see it in Aaron’s face as he all but dragged his brother away from you, jaw set tight and eyes narrowed, arms crossed over his suit covered chest. They bulged out in the material and you had to keep yourself from moaning at the sight of them.

Sure, you knew Sean was flirting with you, but it was rare that men would show any interest in you, so you can’t blame a girl for taking advantage of a situation in front of her, though it wasn’t the brother that she wanted.

Anywho, that’s neither here nor there. All you know is, is that one moment you’re walking down the hallway after visiting Penelope’s cave to be dragged away by Aaron into the bathrooms and pressed against the door.

The way he peered down at you was dark and hungry, and he definitely had a goal in mind as you coward. He held you there with his body, large, broad shoulders pinning you to the metal as you peered up at him through fluttering lashes.

Your body fucking burned for him. You knew you would do anything he would ask you too.

Of course this was disorderly conduct, that it was inappropriate, and quite frankly taboo, with the way that he was your boss and you were his subordinate; and oh, you guys were currently fucking in the company bathroom.

If you were going to be honest – and nasty – that only added fuel to the fire that was your dampening core.

You had begged in a small voice, shaky hands raising to set themselves on his shoulders, fingers curling in the material to… steady yourself? Pull him closer? You didn’t know, but he just watched you.

“Tell me what you want.” The question was sultry and demanding and a shiver ran its way up your body, wracking it in its haste. “You.” You would go to whisper, gaze falling on his lips before following back up to his eyes.

He had bent you over the counter, fingering you open quickly before tugging himself out of his slacks and entering you.

“Mmf… fuck!” You couldn’t help but cry as his tip kissed your g-spot over, and over and over again. The stretch burned so good, and the coil in your stomach was tightly wound, but not quite there yet. You needed that extra stimulation and you didn’t know if Aaron was willing to give it to you.

“Shush.” He puffed harshly, the warm air hitting the shell of your ear before he tugged on it with his teeth.

“Oh God.” You whimpered, leaning back into his bites. “I need it, Aaron please… Don’t be mean.” You whined. “You’ll take what I give you. That’s the least you could do after flirting with my brother right in front of me.”

The mention of his brother caused him to punch back into you harshly, sending you forward slightly. You scrambled to tighten your hold again, another cry lodging itself in your throat.

“Nasty girl.” He growled. “What made you think that was appropriate, huh?” Another emphasizing thrust. “I – I didn’t think…” You mewled.

“‘Want you only. I promise.” You said with a pout, resting your head on his shoulder.

“Yeah? Only me?”

“Mhm.”

He studies your face before leaning forward to join your lips together. Despite the awkward angle, he holds you steady, one of hands leaving your skin to run circles over your clit.

“Gah!” Your yelp is muffled by your lips, the man all but eating it. You don’t know which fountain of pleasure to chase, hips rocking forward and backwards constantly. 

“I… I…” Your words failed you, and your eyes squeezed shut again.

“‘M gonna cum, Aaron baby, can I? Can I cum?” You beg.

He forced you to meet his gaze in the mirror, strands of his black hair sticking to his sweat slicked forehead. “Do you deserve it?” He asks darkly.

You think you could cry.

“Aaron…”

“Answer me. Do you think you deserve to cum?”

“You know I do.” You breathe petulantly, but he isn’t having it, the hand your hip slapping your ass instead. “Fuck.” You sigh. “You’re lucky we're running out of time, or I would be making you beg more, understood?”

“Yes, yes! Understood!”

“Good.”

The tight circles return and you keel over, teeth digging into your bottom.

“I wish I could hear you, my pretty girl.” He coos and you cry out as you cum. Your body trembles but he works you through it.

You’re breathing heavily by the end of it, your heavy eyes meeting his in the mirror.

“You think we're done?” He asks with dark amusement. “I haven’t cum yet.”

He maneuvers your body and turns you around, and by the pressure on your shoulders, he’s trying to push you down, and you understand what he wants. You follow his wordless instructions wordlessly, staring face to face with his dripping wet cock that’s stained with your creamy cum.

“You know what to do.” Aaron encourages, and you do.

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[celestie0]

gojo satoru x reader | fake marriage au [18+]

in holy matriphony ch10. what if?

ᰔ pairing. fake marriage au - neighbor&realtor!gojo x nurse!reader (ft. choso x reader & suguru x reader)

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is your extremely annoying next-door-neighbor who you're pretty sure is the most insufferable man you've ever met. given the fact that you exclusively work the night shift at a chaotic emergency department, just got broken up with your boyfriend of 7 years, and have been taking care of your sick mother ever since her multitude of diagnoses, yet somehow your neighbor is the main source of stress in your life should speak volumes. but when your mother's medical bills start to skyrocket to more than you can manage, and you learn that said neighbor of yours has the best private health insurance plan in the country, you ask him to enter a matrimonial agreement with you for the spousal benefits all in the name of saving a few hundred thousand dollars. but you'll have to see if suffering cohabitation with him is worth any amount of money.

ᰔ genre/tags. fluff, smut, angst, enemies to lovers (sort of), annoyances to lovers (that's more like it), small town romance, fake marriage, next door neighbors, lots of bickering, suburban shenanigans, slow burn, mutual pining, gojo likes to play house but you don't, hatred for the american healthcare system, gojo always forgets to mow the lawn, jealousy, an insane amount of profanity, mentions of cigarettes, depression/anxiety; btw slight age gap bc gojo in this fic is 34 n reader is 29

ᰔ warnings. reader in this fic has a sick mother w alzheimer's & cancer so there is secondary medical angst!!

ᰔ chapter. 10/x

ᰔ words. 7.2k

a/n. helloooooooooo my ihm loves!!! tysm for tuning into this new chapter. sorry i am always an hour late to posting them LOL but anywho...as always...hope you enjoy...see ya at the bottom...

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Your eyes flutter open at the early hours of the morning, chest feeling flush from the deep sleep that had just enveloped you, possibly the first time in months you’ve slept through multiple hours without waking up at the top of every hour in cold sweats of stress.

The satin sheets are soft against the skin of your thighs where your nightgown has ridden up, feeling silky and smooth, and when you twist your torso a little, you feel a heaviness in the divot of your waist. Your sleepy eyes glance down to see a strong arm laying over you.

You panic at first, tensing up immediately, before you recognize it as Gojo’s. His hand lays weakly on the sheets in front of you, thumb twitching slightly in his sleep, but even in its lax state, you can still see pulsing veins trailing up the back of it, lining into his bicep into his porcelain skin that’s illuminated by the light just outside the windows. Smooth and pretty, but masculine at the same time, and you just now see that his knuckles are slightly red and there’s a small cut over the third one.

You lay still, unsure of what to do, and as you blink at the wall across from you, your mind wanders back to last night. The feeling of rage in your blood, unsettling in the moonlight, only to be completely dissolved by the feeling of Gojo’s arms pulling you into him, and holding you tight to his chest. So warm and soft, his comforting scent, the nuzzle of his chin above your head… when you close your eyes, you remember the sight of him hovering over you, that conflicted look on his face that was almost delicate with vulnerability, before it disappeared as he fell to your side and suddenly he was holding you in bed and you fell asleep in his arms. The memories have your cheeks feeling hot, and the fabric of your nightgown becomes suffocating.

You turn your head a little to glance over your shoulder, and you see that somewhere along the night, Gojo took his hoodie off, and you realize he’s shirtless behind you. Your heart beats a little faster in your chest, the otherwise shallow cadence of your early morning breathing picking up in speed, rousing you from sleep, and now you were so wide awake you could feel every sensation of his body pressed up against you from behind.

When you squirm a little, he mumbles deeply behind you before his arm curls around your waist even tighter and he pulls you in closer to him. You gasp, feeling him nuzzle his nose into your hair and his thumb presses into your rib cage right beneath your breast.  

“Satoru,” you murmur, shifting more in his strong hold, and when you do, your butt wiggles against the front of him and—

Oh.

Oh.

He’s—

He’s hard.

And you’re almost entirely shocked still from the way it feels against your ass. 

Even through the thick fabric of his sweatpants, he feels heavy and imposing and hot and big—

You wiggle your butt against him a little bit more, curiously, because you can’t help it, and he groans near your ear.

“Mm,” he mumbles, deep and guttural. “Don’t.”

“Why are you hard right now?” you hiss at him.

“Huh.” Is the only noise he makes as he tries to drift off back to sleep.

“I asked you a question.”

He shifts with a sigh. “Morning wood. Testosterone is higher in the AM. You’re a nurse, you should know that.”

“Well make it go away. It’s uncomfy.”

“How?” he asks with amusement in his voice, like he’s hoping you’ll continue to feign innocence because it was the cute thing to do.

“I don’t know. Go tug on it in the bathroom.”

You feel him exhale an amused scoff, then he presses his lips to the nape of your neck lazily, making you gasp, and you feel his mouth stretching into a smile against your warm skin. “You’re funny.”

The intimacy was searing, it spreads a heat across your entire body, and god, his voice… that deep, groggy sound that rumbles in his throat with the slight drawl in his tone…and when he presses a kiss behind your ear, it was over for you.

“Hey,” he says softly, to get your attention, his chin nuzzling the crown of your head, “thank you.”

“For what?” you exhale, somewhat airy, as if trying to prove that you’re not entirely affected by his touch.

He kisses the side of your neck. “For last night.”

Your heart is beating fast, and you blink a few times before you say, “I’m still mad at you.”

He sighs. “I figured as much,” he says and then he drops his head back down onto the pillow in retreat.

Would it be so wrong?

Is the question you ask yourself.

You’ve already pushed his buttons before,

And maybe it wasn’t wise to do so again,

Given the emotionally charged and rather tender moment you two shared last night,

One that has your head swimming with what-ifs that were still left unanswered,

But you find yourself wanting him now more than ever.

A feeling you don’t want to confront in your head,

But one you feel coarse throughout your body.

You let out a shaky breath and push yourself back against his front, feeling his rigid erection press up against the flesh of your ass, and he lets out a choked groan, one that sounds both aroused and mostly confused, before his arm slides down from under your breasts to hold you around your lower torso instead, almost anchoring you to whatever grinding movements you were making against him.

“You keep this up,” he says, “and I can’t make any promises about what happens next.”

You shuffle your thighs, both because you were aroused but also to coyly deflect any responsibility in riling him up, despite the fact that your ass still brushes against his front from the motion. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you quip, innocently. 

“You’re lucky that I play along,” he says, and it felt like a reference to all of the times he just chooses to deal with your sporadic attitudes like it was no big deal even though you’re sure it would frustrate the hell out of any other man. 

His arm suddenly releases hold of your waist, then his palm smooths over the hill of your hip and down the velvet skin of your thigh, the texture of his hand rough compared to the duvet half-laying over you right now. You clench your thighs together, any and all movements of yours coming to a halt from the violent reaction you have to his touch, and there’s a small little voice in your head that’s screaming bad bad bad bad bad bad BAD idea to let him touch you like this but when he kisses down the curve of your neck, it’s entirely drowned out.

“Waiting for you to slap me,” he mumbles, “aaaaaany second now.”

“I’ve sworn off violence,” you gasp when his fingers feather a touch near your inner thigh.

“How convenient.” He pulls you in closer to him as he continues to tease you with his fleeting touch. “Your skin is so soft,” he says, pads of his fingers pressing into the plush of your thigh, his thumb hooking up the hem of your nightgown to gain more access. His nose brushes the hair away at the nape of your neck before he inhales indulgently. “Smells nice too.”

“Satoru.” Maybe it was a warning, or maybe it was just an acknowledgement of the man behind you that’s slowly touching parts of you that were unmapped by him before. Hell, it could’ve even come off as an encouraging moan of his name, for all you knew. You could hardly hear yourself think, let alone what you say.

When his lips press more firmly on the side of your neck, at that sensitive curve of supple skin, you’re unable to hide the reaction your body has to him anymore, a soft moan leaving your lips as you squirm with arousal and a borderline impatience. He pushes his front against your backside in response to the noise, and your eyes shut close to intensify the feeling.

He’s less chatty than usual, and you figure it’s because he’s sleepy and his brain’s not working, and maybe that’s why he’s tolerable to you right now, enough so to where you’re not too pissed off or annoyed at something he has said or done, hence why he has the opportunity to snake his hand up the front of your torso right now without you smacking him across the face for it. At least that’s the excuse you’ll tell yourself.

When his thumb brushes against your nipple, you let out an airy moan and press your entire body back against him with full desire.

“Fuck, you don’t wear anything underneath these?” he all but growls, his hand cupping your breast, gently kneading the softness that he finds and you swear you feel his cock jump in his boxers.

“W-Why would I wear a bra while I’m sleeping and at home?” you breathlessly manage to say.

“Well it’s hard for me to picture you braless underneath gowns that make you look like a 17th century pilgrim.”

Oh. Okay, yeah, there it was. That urge to smack him.

But the thought melts away when his thumb and index finger pinch your nipple, harsh in grip but gentle when he pulls on it, and you’re fully grinding your ass against him at this point, the arousal coiling tightly in your lower tummy, only barely relieved by the tight press of your thighs together.

The large span of his hand squeezes both your tits at the same time, making you moan against the pillow, a sound he reacts to by fully bucking his hips against your rear. “God, knowing that you don’t wear anything underneath these is gonna torture me whenever I see you around the house now,” he acknowledges with a sigh, forehead dropping to rest on your temple as his messy fringe falls against your eyelashes. 

The warmth of his hand leaves your chest as it finds its way smoothing down your midriff, and he briefly digs the heel of his palm into the soft plush of your lower belly, almost as if to experiment, and you completely jump and then writhe in his hold from the ache of pleasure that courses through you. He’s pressing open mouthed wet kisses against your neck now, more liberal with the groans and grunts that he leaves against the wake of your feverish skin as he grinds against you, and the tips of his fingers slip past the band of your panties but—

He can’t get any further than that.

His lips leave your neck and he lifts his head up a little to glance at the state of your thighs, and then he looks down at your face. “Spread your legs.”

You pull a pillow to your face so you can hide your flushed cheeks from him. You’re breathing fast and then sniffle a little against the cover. “Too much,” you muffle into it.

For fucks sake, you weren’t a virgin. You’ve had your fair share of sex in this life at your age, as you’re sure he has too. Yet for some reason the sensations, the touches, the sounds, everything he’s giving you feels so much more intense than anything else you’ve ever had in your life and you’re not sure you can handle it. At least not in any way where you can hide how deeply, deeply, deeply turned on you were right now.

“It’s okay,” he says, voice surprisingly reassuring, but that somehow makes you blush even more, and he gently nips at the lobe of your ear with his teeth while his thumb rubs soothing circles over your lower belly, “it’ll feel good. Promise. And if it’s too much, just elbow me in the ribs.”

“Thaf’s not a proffer (propper) safeword,” you muffle into the pillow.

“Baby. I don’t mean to sound rude, but do you really need a safeword just for me to touch your pussy?”

Oh.

Hearing him so casually call you baby right now did something to you…and there’s no way to even put it into words, just a feeling of visceral arousal that has you instantly melting and sweetly opening your legs for him, and he kisses the hill of your cheekbone before he settles his head back down on the pillow. He gives you his outstretched arm to rest on, your head falling on top of his warm muscled bicep, all your day-two salon blowout hair scattered across the pillow and tickling his skin, and you have to hold your breath when his hand slips right into your panties and his middle and ring fingers glide between your slick folds.

“Fuck,” he shakily exhales behind you, his touches moving with ease from the wetness, smearing it up to your clit where he rubs soft, teasing, agonizingly slow circles that match the lucidity of his sleepy state, “you’re so wet.” 

“N—” you gasp when he draws them faster. “I’m not,” you insist. 

“You’re gonna argue with me right now when I’ve got the proof all over my fingers?” he drawls near your ear, abandoning your clit in favor of slipping two of his thick fingers inside of you so suddenly that your entire body curls up in pleasure, thighs clenching together tightly but his hand is still strong enough to move between their pressure as he slowly pumps his fingers in and out, in and out, in and out of you, curled upwards to that spot inside that has you seeing white. 

You moan with no concern of the sound anymore, freely and whiny into the air, and he ruts his hips against your ass in response to the noise, which only elicits more from you. “Keep ‘em spread,” he tells you, voice strained through his own arousal, knuckles pushing up on your inner thigh to prod you open. 

Ten minutes ago, he’d have never even gotten close to seeing let alone touching the most intimate parts of you. And now, his fingers are knuckle deep inside of you. But it wasn’t enough, you’ve become greedy, and you want more.

“Satoru—” you whine, hand shooting out to grab his wrist, feeling the tilt of it towards your pussy as he continues to casually finger you while you struggle to listen to him—…struggle to keep your thighs open in the face of the desperate arousal that spreads across all your senses. “Mm, faster—”

“Would you kill me if I asked you to beg for it?” he huffs, but you can hear the grin in his voice, like he knew he was pushing it, that insufferably cocky side of him you’d usually despise if you didn’t feel his slick knuckles against your inner thigh every time he pushed his fingers all the way inside.

You turn your face into his outstretched arm, eyes shut close. “Just—” He cuts you off when his thumb finds your swollen clit, the coarse pad of it running over the bundle of nerves as he shallowly continues to fuck you with his fingers, “just do it faster—”

He slows down the pace, thumb entirely abandoning your clit all together, making you gasp, and you hear his voice near your ear when he says, “how about a ‘please’?”

“Oh my god, okay, please, you asshole!” you all but scream, nails digging into his wrist now, dangerously close to his pulse, and you make a mental note to kill him for this later, but you don’t get past the first few words in your head before you hear him say,

“Ehh I’ll take what I can get,” and then the pure pleasure of his fingers relentlessly slamming into you takes over anything else.

He kisses the crown of your head, murmuring words of sweet praise into your hair, words you couldn’t even make out if you tried, because that dull ache of pleasure in your lower belly just builds and builds and builds, even further when you glance down at the sight of him pumping his fingers inside of you over and over. Your head plops down onto the pillow gently when his arm escapes from under, so that he can wrap it around your waist, trying his best to hold you still as you squirm from the pure pleasure, but he abandons the attempt to impatiently yank your gown up instead, your warm breasts becoming exposed to cold air and he squeezes them in his hand roughly before pinching your nipple, making you writhe and arch your back. The grip you had on the wrist of his pounding hand was now seethingly harsh, nails digging deep enough to draw blood, borderline trying to slow him down from just how seriously he took your request for him to go faster, because it was almost too much, but in the most blisteringly arousing way possible.

“Please, Satoru, I’m so close—” you whine, and the second he hears the hint of a plea in your voice, his other hand slips past the fabric of your panties and finds your clit, all four fingers relentlessly rubbing back and forth against the sensitive bud, making you scream, the heel of his palm placing a constant pressure on your lower belly, and when he curls his fingers inside of you, hitting that sweet spot that makes you see stars, you completely come undone, your orgasm washing over you as your walls flutter around his fingers that continue to coax you through every pulsating sensation, moans spilling from your lips, squirming from the pleasure, before you’re completely spent and your body slowly goes limp, relaxed, face halfway shoved into the pillow and teary eyes shut close in ecstasy, hand laying weakly in front of you on top of satin sheets as you try to regain your breath.

You hear Gojo huffing slightly behind you too. He pulls his fingers out of you and you can barely see over your shoulder that he brings them to his mouth. Fuck you need to see it. Need to see the sight of him licking them clean. But all you hear in time is the lewd pop sound when he pulls his fingers out of his mouth.

“Oh my god,” he practically hisses, sucking a sharp breath in through his teeth, and he sounds desperate when he says, “let me eat you out, please—”

“No—” you gasp, a little too quickly and a little too sharp, perching yourself up onto your elbow slightly so you can turn your head to look at him. He’s looking at you with wide blue eyes, completely at halt, like whatever your next wish was would be his command. But he also looks like he wants to stuff his face between your thighs. The duality of man.

You’re still heaving from your orgasm, feeling misty in your chest, eyelashes fluttering with a slight hesitation to say what’s on your tongue because you know it’s only because you’re scared of the intimacy, and yet you want it all at the same time, too.

“Just fuck me,” you say, and to prevent sounding needy, “I have places to be.”

You briefly bite your tongue in regret over the addition, worrying it sounded pretentious and cunty and perhaps too princessy for his taste, but instead he loses his shit. Evident in the broken and desperate groan that leaves his lips, the way he immediately starts fumbling with his sweatpants then his boxers to pull himself out and press the hot tip of his erection against your ass, insanely relished in the fact that you just asked him to fuck you, which should sound like music to his ears at this point based on how strained and hard his boner’s been poking at your ass for the past twenty minutes. And it’s a strange concept, one that has you feeling delirious with confidence as you realize that one of the hottest men you know feels like he’s the lucky one here because he gets to stick his dick inside of you.

You fall back down onto your side in as casual of a way as you could manage, and his strong arm immediately wraps tight around your waist to pull all the softness of you against all the rigidity of him, into that same spooning position that got you into this arousing mess in the first place. You can feel him shifting quickly behind you, mattress dipping with hasty movements as he slides a palm between your thighs then lifts one up to spread you open for him, and then he’s pumping himself in his hand, once, twice, face buried in the crook of your neck as he indulges in a few broken groans, the sound making you point your knee high up towards the ceiling, cheeks flush and almost ashamed by how badly you need him to tear your open right now. There’s no teasing, or tormenting, or taunting from him like there usually is, all of that skipped on the basis of the sheer desperation that coats the shaky breaths he continues to exhale behind you. He lets you bite down on his hand as he yanks your soaked panties to the side and rubs his throbbing length between your slick folds, tip bumping against your clit, his precum smearing over it before he wraps a fist around his cock to position himself at your entrance and then slowly stretches you out, inch by inch, murmuring a deep and sleepy shhh it’s okay near your ear when he hears you whine and whimper from the heavy intrusion, before he’s buried to the hilt inside of you.

“Oh my god,” he sighs, almost at the same time that you do too, and you hear him swallow hard, his cock twitching inside of you. His arm wraps around you tighter, pulling you flush against his front as he presses sweet kisses behind your ear and you two just stay like this for what feels like eternity, his chest expanding in rugged and uneven breaths, like he’s savoring the sensation of being inside of you, before you just can’t take it anymore and wiggle your hips for him to just move already.

“Please, Satoru,” you whine, sniffling a little from the pure arousal, your nails digging into the skin of his forearm, “please—, move.”

He gently nibbles the lobe of your ear, withdrawing his hips back until he’s almost all the way out, save for the tip, before languidly pushing into you again, and your hand reaches out to grab the pillow in front of you to shove your face into to muffle your moan. 

“I must still be dreaming,” he groans, slowly fucking you now with no rhythm or pace, just pure instinct like this is what he was made for, “there’s just—fuck,” he grunts when you clench around him tightly, “there’s just no way you’re letting me do this right now.”

“Mmff,” you muffle into the pillow, pushing your ass against his hips as your form of charity, and he uncrosses one of his arms from your waist so that his hand can snake up to cup your breast in his palm, and all the words you could possibly come up with in your head dissolve into a moan of pleasure instead.

“So tight, god, you feel so good,” he mumbles, his nose nuzzling into your hair as he breathes in deep, and you feel like your cheeks are on fire.

As he continues to knead your breast in his palm, then the other, then squeezes both at the same time, you rock your hips back gently into his, your arm reaching behind yourself, fingertips grazing the short hair of his undercut before you find yourself gripping at the soft tufts above it. You hear him inhale sharply, then he kisses your temple in encouragement as his thrusts pick up in pace and you feel that simmering ache of pleasure in your lower belly grow fiercer. Like he can read your mind, his hand leaves your tits, smoothing down your torso to lay flat against your lower belly, and he sighs in content when he can feel how deep he is underneath his palm over your belly.

You sigh into the pillow, over and over again, as he minds his business in rutting his hips into yours and makes it clear to you that he’s more than enjoying himself from the guttural groans that leave his lips from the pleasure. And when you arch your back further, an invitation that he just can’t refuse, he’s suddenly turning over, making you roll onto your stomach, and he holds himself up on one arm with his chest pressed firmly to your back before he pulls your panties halfway down your thighs and slides a pillow under your tummy, your hips now raised higher for him to slip his cock right into you again, so smooth from how slick you are but you still feel that delicious stretch from the girth of him, and the angle that he gets on you like this, with your ass up in the air, paired by the feeling of his balls slapping against your skin with every thrust that he resumes on you, has you about ready to scream.

“S-Satoru—” you whimper, arms stretching out in front of you as you push your ass back into him, forehead plopping down onto the pillow in front of you, soft hair covering your face as he pounds into you. “Mm—…oh…oh my god.”

“Fuck,” he grunts in between heavy thrusts, hips stuttering briefly from the sound of your moans, “y’know, I always pictured you’d be kinda prissy in bed,” he huffs, leaning over to pull the short sleeve of your flimsy nightgown down your arm to expose bare shoulder so he can kiss you there, “but you’re actually kinda cute.”

“That’s not—ah!” you gasp when he picks up the speed, like he already knows you’re about to argue with him over it, “Satoru!” You yelp, half in frustration, half in pure ecstasy, and you can feel his annoying grin against the curve of your shoulder as he kisses his way up to the side of your neck.

“C’mon baby, just leave it at that, yeah?” he purrs near your ear, his hand coming up to lightly pinch your nipple, “not everything has to be an argument.”

“Mm,” you muffle your irritation into the pillow, high pitched and whiny which he seems to find arousingly amusing given the huff of a laugh he exhales on the nape of your neck and the way you feel his cock jump inside of you, and then he’s nuzzling his nose into your hair again, freely, messily, rubbing his cheek against soft, tousled strands as he sighs with content, and then suddenly, he’s wrapping an arm around your ribcage just under your breasts, and pulling you upright with him so that you’re effectively leaning back against his chest with an arch to your back as he continues to fuck you from behind.

“Seriously, I mean it,” he lowly murmurs near your ear as you tilt your head back onto his shoulder in pure pleasure, and he rubs his cheek affectionately against your hair at the crown of your head while you dig your nails into the skin of his forearm tucked underneath your breasts, “you look so pretty with your hair like this,” he breathes out, almost broken, and it nearly makes you cry when he kisses your cheekbone over the splayed strands of bangs that sit over the curve, “so insanely pretty.”

You were gone, you just didn’t care anymore. With exactly sixteen sweet words, you were done for. You didn’t even realize a man worshiping your hair in the middle of sex was ever something that would have you so down bad on your knees, but you had never felt more deliriously hazy in your life. And you almost want to tell him to just pull on it, then, if he likes it so much, but there’s a simmering feeling at the base of your heart that just wants him to keep being gentle with you instead.

“Satoru, please—” you moan, throat loose and airy, thighs desperately clenching together with need, which only makes you squeeze around him even tighter and the effects of it shows in the way he drops his forehead to your shoulder, his fringe tickling your skin as he breathes heavily.

“God you’re squeezing me so tight you’re gonna cut the circulation off of my dick,” he scoffs, poorly containing just how turned on it makes him feel, and he gently leans over to lay you back down on your stomach so that your cheek is pressed into the pillow and he’s back to fucking you from behind while your ass is up in the air.

“That’s not how that—mm, works, you idiot—“ You struggle to say as heat spreads across your chest, and that tight coil in your tummy pulls more taut with each thrust, to where you feel your vision start to spot, and like he can tell you’re on the edge, his hand snakes down between your thighs and the rough pads of his fingers start to draw circles over your clit, making you gasp so sharply it feels like your throat has gone hoarse.

“C’mon, baby,” he groans, his thrusts picking up in speed along with everything else. He’s panting and heaving, and you feel a droplet of sweat fall from his face onto the back of your neck.

With one more pass of his fingers over your clit, you shut your eyes close, your entire body curls inwards and your orgasm washes over you in pleasureful waves, making you scream out a moan as you squeeze around Gojo’s cock over and over, and you feel his thrusts grow erratic, insane, all loss of tempo and rhythm, his grunts above you sounding so sonically desperate and it’s only when you feel the stutter of his hips, that you barely gain enough sane conscience in the whirlwind of pleasure swimming in your head to remember you have to tell him—

“Wait, Satoru—” you gasp, entirely sober from the delirium, “n-not inside, you can’t.”

“Huh?” he breathes out, in caution, like he had just been on the verge of cumming inside of you, then exhales a breathy—“fuck,” at the implication, and he stays inside of you until the very end of his composure, like he didn’t want to waste a single second of being inside of you, to where you could physically feel his balls jump against your clit with the last thrust he makes right before he pulls out and quickly replaces the squeeze of your cunt with the squeeze of his hand instead, and although you can barely see it over your shoulder, you can just picture it— how hot he looks as he pumps himself over your back with a fucked out groggy expression all over his handsome face. 

“Shit, shit, shit— I’m gonna—” He fumbles with your nightgown to try to pull it up so he doesn’t completely soil it with his cum, but he only succeeds in pulling it up halfway before you feel hot spurts land on the fabric, sporadically painted across the exposed skin of your back, over your ass, your thighs, hell you’re even sure some of it landed in your hair as you hear him groan over and over behind you, a sound so lost in pleasure it has you reeling thinking about how you’re the one that’s causing it, and even after just having had an orgasm, your walls still clench around nothing from the thought.

When he has no more to give, he lets out a shaky breath, one that could constitute as a satisfied sigh, before he flops down onto his back next to you, chest heaving heavily, lips parted with deep breaths, eyes wide as he stares up at the ceiling and shakes his head like he’s in shock before he turns his neck to look at you.

You’re breathing heavily, then shove your face into the pillow, chest laying over your balled up fists you have kept near your rapidly beating heart, and you hear the heaviness in his breathing as well beside you, the sound intensified by the tight shut of your eyes, and you finally feel the horny haze in your head clearing slightly from the early hours of the morning.

The mattress shifts underneath you with Gojo’s weight as you feel him turn onto his side, and he curls an arm around your waist, pulling you in towards him.

And it occurs to you,

It finally occurs to you,

That you two just had sex.

He presses his lips lightly to the top of your head in nothing less than a kiss, before murmuring in a soft voice, “c’mon, let’s go clean you up–”

You slip out from under his arm, from out of the bed, and BOOK it to the bathroom like your life depended on it, shutting the door behind you, and then twisting the lock before you place your palms flat on the surface, huffing and puffing panicked breaths.

It only takes Gojo about five seconds to attempt to open the door, have a moment of brief confusion when he finds that it’s locked, and then knocks. “Wha—…y/n? The fuck? Is everything okay?”

“No! I mean–...yes! I mean–...I don’t know!” you yell.

Even through the wooden barrier of the door, you swear you can see him blink as his face twists with confusion, entirely perplexed by your behavior.

You breathe in deep, and exhale slowly, then rest your forehead on the surface of the door, glancing down at your feet over the cool tile of the bathroom. You shut your eyes close as you still feel the ghostly sensations of his arms handling you in bed, hands roaming across your skin, the feeling of him inside of you–

You shake your head to push the memories away, an almost visceral reaction to them, and it’s mostly silence for what feels like forever but was most likely only a minute, when you hear Gojo say on the other side of the door–

“Just come out here. Let me see you.”

You shake your head, as if he would have any way of seeing your refusal, before you say, “no, I’m–...I’m going to take a shower.”

He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, and you don’t wait to hear whatever response he does give before you’re turning the hot water on in the shower, to drown out any noise, including the sound of your own pestering thoughts.

You pull your nightgown up over your head, tossing it into a corner of the bathroom along with your panties, open the mosaic glass door to the shower, and walk underneath the overhead shower head, the water trickling down your now tousled, soiled hair, whatever style or curl that it had been smoothed into the day before now falling from the strands, until it’s flatly soaked with water, and you run your hand through your hair, still letting go of soft, remnant huffs of air from your lips to try and come down from the intense feelings that sit in your chest.

What did this mean, now? You two crossed a line that was quite literally never supposed to be crossed. Not according to your rules, or your silly contract, or any notion of this fake marriage. Will this make things awkward? Will this make things feel more real? Will this sort of thing happen again? Would you be able to stop yourself from letting it happen again? 

And will this just further complicate the confusing feelings that you seem to have for Gojo?

What were the possibilities after this, if any?

You’re surprised to find that there’s a small part of you inside, give or take once any of the awkwardness passes, that is for once not afraid to explore the what-ifs.

You step out of the shower, the steam feeling sticky on your skin as you wrap a towel around yourself and then wipe a hand across the foggy mirror to see your reflection. You look fresh, clean, no longer sleepy or dazed, but you blink at the sight of you as you still feel flushed at the chest, and sad that the hair he likes so much is now gone.

How can a person feel so sure and yet so conflicted about one single thing?

Once you finish freshening up, you open the door to get back into the room, but not without peeking your head around to see if Gojo’s still there, only to see that he’s not. And so you apprehensively step out into the room, quickly get dressed, try to dry your hair off the best you can in a hurry, and then—

Your stomach growls.

“Ah,” the soft sound leaves your lips.

You didn’t even do any of the work and you’re hungry?

Your own green sickens you.

You waft across the floors of the loft in your fresh nightgown, then peek your head over the railing of the stairs to see if you hear any noises, but you don’t.

“Mm?” you hum in confusion, then slowly make your way down the stairs.

Having successfully evaded all the creaky wood, you turn the post at the bottom, making your way towards the kitchen but quietly, stealthily, the Pink Panther theme song playing in your head as you tread the wooden floors like a spy.

Your heart was beating fast in your chest, and when you made it to the kitchen, it’s empty. You round the kitchen island, trace the marbled surface with the pad of your index finger.

Where did he go?

And then you realize— it smells like fresh coffee.

You turn around near the pantry, and just at that moment, Gojo comes walking out of it and nearly collides with you in his stride.

“Oh shit—” he says, hand darting out to hold your elbow so you don’t fall backwards onto your butt, and just from that contact alone, you’re searing.

You yank your arm out of his grip and stare at him with a panic. He’s still shirtless, wearing his loosely hung black sweatpants, but his face looks freshened up and his hair is flattened down in an attempt to tame it, and he’s squinting at you like he doesn’t have his contacts in and is struggling to make out what kind of expression you’re offering him.

“Hey,” he says, “can we talk—”

You weren’t ready to talk about it yet. 

Didn’t have enough time to have an existential crisis over it.

And as if God was on your side, the doorbell rings.

“Ah!! Gotta get that!!” you chirp before turning on your heel towards the main entrance, but he reaches out to grab your wrist, making your breath hitch.

“Just hold on one sec—”

“I can’t,” you say, and you both hear the doorbell ring again, “it’s probably the highschoolers I shoo’d off yesterday because I didn’t have any cash to give for their fundraiser. I promised I’d go to the ATM.�� You yank out of his hold. “Highschoolers are scary. Don’t wanna make ‘em wait!!! Or they’ll…egg…your house?” You say, blinking at him, the same way he’s blinking at you, because you’re just as confused about what you said as much as he probably is. “Ah…ahahah,” you let out some forced laughter, which most definitely just sounds awkward. You take two steps forward towards the hall, but then turn around to face him again. “Um. Also. If you have any cash on you, that’d be great. I forgot to go to the ATM.”

His expression suggests that he is just so entirely confused by you, and then he watches as you beeline to the door.

You breathe in deep, then exhale slow, tuck some damp strands behind your ear, and just try your best to calm down your beating heart before you yank open the door, fully prepared to see some obnoxious teenagers, when—

You’re met with a wide-eyed, surprised-looking Sylvie standing at the front door instead.

“Ah?” you softly exclaim.

She blinks blankly, her mouth that had been slightly agape at the sight of you closing as if she found it to be too improper of a reaction for her standards, and she smooths down the fabric of the bright blue denim waistcoat she was wearing, her palms gliding down to the matching dress pants, and then tucks her neat hair behind her ear.

“Sylvie?” you blink in surprise, “w-what are you doing here?”

She creases her brow at you, then leans back to check the house number to the side of the doorframe to check if she’s got the right house, and then her gaze shifts back to you. “What are you doing here, y/n?”

“Oh, that’s—” Your voice trails off gently, suddenly unsure, but then you find it again. “That’s what I asked you.”

“What are you doing here?” she asks again, eye contact unwavering, and somewhat impatient.

“Is a ten dollar bill enough? Or do you need a twenty?” You hear Gojo’s voice as he approaches from the side in your periphery while fishing through bills in his wallet, still gloriously shirtless and somewhat disheveled from sex and sleep, and he runs a hand through his hair before he walks right up to you, hands you a couple of bills and says, “ehhh just give ‘em a couple of twenties.”

“Oh, that’s not necessary anymo—” you start, but then his face lifts and he’s glancing towards outside of the door.

It was like something out of a movie, the way you would describe it. The way his face twists from relaxed, somewhat disinterested, into full-blown, unadulterated shock. The way his shoulders stiffen, he’s rendered still, chest decompressing with the exhale he huffs out. You’ve never seen the blue in his eyes so clearly before, not with the way they’ve never been so wide in all the time that you’ve known him, and it breaks your heart—how pretty they are.

“S—” he starts, but the syllable gets caught in his throat.

Your gaze slowly pans from him to Sylvie, who stands just outside the door, and you find that, as her eyes shift between the two of you, her expression is the exact same as his. Wide, shocked, but there was something else in there too. But just the idea of deciphering what it could be, what it could mean, makes you feel so entirely discouraged, like a stranger in your own skin, and it makes your shoulders sulk, same with the sink of your heart towards the center of the Earth.

With eyes flicking back to Gojo, you blink at him once slowly, then twice, feeling like you were out of breath from just standing alone.

You didn’t even need to ask who she was to him. You can tell by the way he’s looking at her.

Sylvie is his ex-wife.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

[end of ch10. 'what if?']

[end of in holy matriphony: season 1]

song of the chapter: 'boyish' by japanese breakfast

a/n. mann i would hate to be gojo rn LOL anywho, thank you sm for readinggg <33 aaaaaaa i'm so nervous to kick off all the DRAMA and angst but............ i'm also very excited 🤭 i am once again shitting bricks posting this chapter bc i just get so nervous posting smut, idk maybe cuz i hardly post it but idk it just is so nervewracking??? and feels so vulnerable??? ahaha i imagine it gets easier the more you post it but like DAMN idk how the jjk smut authors do it. i feel more vulnerable posting this than any other chapter 🤣🤣 buuuuuut i also enjoyed writing it 🤭hehe. apologies for any typos i wrote it w one handKSDJFH im joking i just love this whole two steps forward one step back dynamic btwn reader n gojo like it's the stuff i LIVEEE for in slowburns...i'm so excited to write all the complicated emotions that come w sleeping w a man n then his EX WIFE SHOWS UP AT THE DOOR NOT EVEN AN HOUR AFTER...hell yea huuuuge and i mean BIG and i meannnn COLLOSAL shout out to my lovely beta reader leni, who held my hand as i edited this chapter lol. i had an absolute blast running this one by you 🤣🤣 tysm to all my readers who support this story <3 i was so blown away by the love w ch9, it was a behemoth to edit, and SO challenging to write. i wanted to write a lengthier author's note for that chapter bc i had SO much to say about my writing process for it but i lowkey got lazy LOL but yea it definitely tested my writing abilities the most i think of anything i've put out so far. so i really am so glad it was well received! as you may have seen, this marks the end of ihm season 1!!! sort of a cliffhanger i'm sorryyy i don't usually enjoy leaving chapters on cliffhangers but i just love the open endedness of this scene :'') ihm will be going on a bit of a break after this. i want to spend a little bit of time hashing out some of the details for the next part of the story, and also take a little time off writing! ...its ok ihm gojo my beloved... i’ll be back soon lol i sound like i'm going fucking mental. anyways. once again thanks so much for all the likes, comments, reblogs, asks etc <3 interacting w you guys is a great part of my joy these days. hope you all have a lovely day/night! ah also!!! ihm playlist!!! finally debuting it!! still a tiny bit of a work in progress but you can find it here: playlist. i name it herbal seedlings bc idk all i could think about was reader’s herb garden - ellie 🧚‍♀️✨

➸ you're all caught up!

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[buckysslut]

🤭🤭🤭

So, what about a reader who is uncomfy with giving BJs, y'know?

Like, rlly shy/nervous about it cuz it's a normal/'expected' thing with sex and she doesn't want Bucky to be upset or smthn

Maybe it's revealed if they talk about boundaries with sex or smth or idk

Doesn't matter to me Vivi<3

Anywho, take care of yourself and remember to take breaks!!!<3<3<3<3

𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐫

(A/N: this isnt really smut but obviously it alludes to and talks about a lot of sex so??? be warned i guess???)

You enjoyed sex with Bucky, really you did. He was a wonderful person, a wonderful partner, a wonderful everything. But you were.. well.. more than a little nervous during every sort of foreplay session. Bucky had eaten you out countless times and god, he was good at it. But you were waiting for the moment to come where he wanted to be the receiver. And today was that day. You were both lazily making out, when he pulls back slightly and murmurs, "Knees, doll.." And you just froze up. You knew what 'Knees' meant and you really did not want to do it. "I.. um..." You freeze, going all tense and going all rigid against the kiss. Bucky furrows his brow, pulling back to notice how you now look like a dear in the headlights. "Doll.. you okay?" He asks softly, curious as to why you'd suddenly just frozen up and stopped reciprocating the kiss. "I.. Um.." You say again, struggling to find the words to say 'Hey, I actually really do not want to suck you off and I cannot imagine anything worse for me than a dick down my throat. No offense.'

He tilts his head, gaze softening, "Take your time.." He says softly. You sigh, averting your gaze and knowing you have definitely just ruined the mood. "Can we, um.. talk?" You murmur, cheeks a bright red. "Yeah, of course.." He whispers softly, sitting down on the bed with you. Had he done something wrong? Said something wrong? You sit down beside him, twiddling with your fingers and twisting your rings nervously. "Can we talk about.. like our.. y'know.. sexual boundaries..?" You murmur, your cheeks flushing a deep scarlet. He nods softly, furrowing his brow, worried that he'd really crossed a line.

"I'm um.. I'm gonna be honest.. I'm not entirely comfortable with.. y'know.. sucking you off.. I'm really sorry, it's not personal, I promise, I just-" He hushes you gently, gaze gentle and apologetic now that he realised where he went wrong. "It's okay, I promise.. If you don't wanna do it, that's fine.. I'm sorry for trying to initiate something I didnt ask if you were comfortable with.." He says gently, rubbing the top of your hand with his thumb. You smile apologetically, "I'm really sorry to have gotten your hopes up.." He immediately shakes his head, "Hey, hey, you have nothing to apologise for and you don't owe me anything.." You nuzzle up to him, secretly relieved he didn't take it personally and flip out. You cuddle up to him, safe in the knowledge that he isn't angry and respects your boundaries.

"... besides I prefer eating you out."

"James-!"

Tags: @chrisevansleftnipple , @homiesexual-or-homosexual , @httpsells , @avengemepercy , @raikan624 , @multiversefanfics , @majulians-groupie ' @maryevm , @grilledcheesewithjalapeno , @yaboyguzma69 , @hopeofwinter , @buckybarnesslutshop

[pettysreverie]

Shutting a very (nervous) chatty soap up by letting him give you head under the table of a fairly fancy restaurant?

(oh my fucking gosh!!! my first ask request! >.< sorry it took my so long babes, ya girl has been busy and also just down and out with cramps. Also? I was trying to decide on what was making him nervous...anywho! I hope this lives up to your expectations!!!)

CW: AFAB!Reader, Exhibitionism, Dubcon, I love writing out accents :P, as always if I missed any important warnings pls feel free to let me know (in case you didn't read my intro post, i get heavy handed with exposition. i'm not used to writing short form fanfic T.T have never written a 100 word anything outside of academia...sorry loves)

Okay, so the way I see it, Soap is a chatty motherfucker all the time anyway. Cracking jokes, making conversation, the whole spiel. He's a naturally extroverted guy, so it's not like he can help it...but when he's nervous? Oh, there's absolutely no shutting him up.

But can you blame him for being nervous? He definitely did not think he would he ever manage a date with you, an actress he's recently come to admire.

It started with seeing you in a few small roles here and there and enjoying them. And as you grew in notoriety and landed bigger roles, Johnny found himself seemingly following along—watching each project. Before he had even realized it, he had naturally become a fan boy of yours.

So he was absolutely surprised when, upon returning home from deployment, he had run into you. The poor bastard had nearly passed out.

He thought he had died and gone to heaven when you had actually given him the time of day, letting him chat with you in the queue as you two waited for your respective orders at the cafe.

And when, upon parting, you had accepted his invitation for a date and had given him your number? He really thought he was on cloud fucking nine.

This, all of this, the Scotsman nervously rambles to you as you sit for said date.

He's on edge, which is more than obvious—but you find it endearing. Johnny is just so charming. Even as he trips over his own words and blushes every so often, he manages to make you laugh.

And it's not like you don't understand.

Maybe you don't know exactly what he's feeling right now, but you've been in similar situations. And so, maybe that is why you just cannot help but try to lighten the mood.

"With how much you can talk, it's a wonder if you use that motormouth of yours for anything else."

Okay...even to your own ears, you realize that maybe you shouldn't have said that. You wince, ready to apologize, but Johnny's blue eyes seem to sparkle and the Scotsman smirks at you.

"Aye?"He asks, cocking a brow at you as he leans back in his chair. "Well, ah can promise ye... Ah can show ye be'er then ah can tell ye."

It takes you a moment, but it comes to you that he is not so nervous anymore. A more calm and confident air surrounds him now, his gaze more assured.

A shiver runs down your spine.

You have only just met the man, but you can tell that Johnny is many things. Intelligent. Extroverted. Charming. But how are you supposed to know that he is also a massive eater—that this man loves eating pussy?

How are you supposed to know that yes, he is a military sergeant that has a talent for many things, namely diffusing bombs…but eating pussy is where he truly thrives and shines?

There's just absolutely no way he's going to pass up an opportunity to eat you out. Not even if you two are in a fairly nice restaurant, sitting across from each other on your first date.

So of course it is a surprise that a smirk spreads across his lips, "Ma bad, bonnie. Yer right. Donnae mind if ah do."

And before you can call him off, telling him that you were only joking, the Scotsman has disappeared himself under your table. A feat unto itself given his not so small size, but with the tablecloth draped over the table and the natural humdrum of the restaurant life buzzing all around you, he is provided the perfect cover.

His nimble fingers hitch up your dress, his lips ghosting along your thighs. You can feel his stubble scratching your skin in a way that makes your breath hitch.

"Forgive me for ma ramblin' bonnie. Ah'll make it up tae ye."He murmurs just loud enough for you to hear from beneath the table, pulling a small yelp out of you as he nips the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

You're caught between wanting to convince him to stop, and wanting to see where this goes.

It's not like you're some A-list celebrity. Sure, you're getting bigger roles, but nothing too big just yet. Nothing that would garner you too much unnecessary attention naturally, anyways. You're not at the point, yet, of worrying about tabloids or paparazzi or being sneakily recorded by fans. For now, thankfully.

Still, the prospect of getting kicked out of such a nice restaurant and getting hit with a public indecency charge doesn't sound very nice.

On the other hand...?

On the other hand, you have a super sexy Scottish military sergeant beneath the table and between your legs right this moment. Talk about a wet dream come true...

You snap out of your own thoughts when you feel Johnny pull your panties to the side, his stubble rubbing along your inner thighs as his tongue takes a long, broad stroke up your cunt.

(Did I mention that he loves eating pussy?)

Your hand flies beneath the table, fingers settling within the tresses of his mohawk and tightening as your body jolts. You have to press your lips together, holding back a soft whimper that threatens to fall out at the way he seems to savor having you on his tongue.

And it suddenly strikes you that, actually...this might not a good idea after all.

"W-Wait—"

But Johnny doesn't wait. He doesn't listen.

He presses his face between your thighs, his tongue worshiping your flesh as you try your level best to remain as calm and collected as possible. Only, of course, now is when your waiter decides to come to your table.

"Ah, did the gentleman step out for a moment? Should I wait, or would you like to order for him?"

You freeze.

How the fuck are you supposed to answer that?

This is a first fucking date.

You definitely don't know him well enough to order for him. But to wait? That's not likely either.

"I'll...I'll order—"You press your lips together and tighten your thighs around Johnny's head as he starts sucking on your clit, causing you to full body flinch.

The waiter looks at you, a startled expression coloring his features just as a wave of shame courses through your veins. “Sorry….”You mumble, pinching Johnny beneath the table.

He apologizes with a kiss to your clit.

“I’ll have the chicken pasta, and he’ll have the roasted salmon with the white rice. Please.”You order quickly, trying to sound as polite as possible. More and more, this is seeming to have been a really bad a idea.

"Right, well then I'll have those out for the two of you as soon as I can."

You try to breathe a sigh of relief when the waiter leaves your table, but aren't even afforded the option. Not when Johnny is yanking your panties even further to the side. "Yer a fuckin delight, love."He mutters gravelly from between your thighs.

He sounds almost...feral.

Like an animal.

Another shiver runs down your spine and you shift your hips, pulling back. Your heart is hammering in your chest and with how intense this is getting, you're not sure you can keep a handle on yourself if things continue.

Besides, you're sure that you have more than embarrassed yourself for one evening.

This is only a first date, you can save some room to embarrass yourself more for another time—for another date.

But then Johnny's large hands grip your hips, forcefully pulling you closer to the edge of your seat almost greedily—hungrily. "Donnae run away from me."He says to you, and with him being hidden under the table it is almost an ominous threat of sorts. A deep, raspy voice not asking but commanding you to not move.

Johnny's lips close around your sensitive clit—sucking on it with an unforgiving intensity as he holds you in place. He's determined to make you cum. Right here. Right in this restaurant.

Once again your thighs clamp around his head, but if he's bothered about that then he makes no indication about it. He doesn't even flinch.

You try to say something—anything—but the words are lost on you when his tongue starts flicking your clit.

The sound you let out is just barely muffled by the sound your free hand makes as you accidentally slam it onto the table. A couple sitting at a table near yours looks over, shooting curious inquisitive gazes your way.

"S-Sorry..."You whimper, your thighs trembling and your hips twitching just beneath the table and out of their view.

Thankfully your slumped demeanor and shaky voice lend themselves more to seemingly like a jilted date than a frisky exhibitionist, so they only send you pitying glances and then turn away. Which you appreciate because, the very moment they turn away, you slump over onto the table.

One arm cushions your forehead while other grips Johnny's hair tightly, perhaps too tightly. But you can't be bothered to care. Not when he's slipping one of his finger's into your messy cunt as he continues his dedicated assault.

"F-Fuck,"Quietly falls from your lips, not being able to contain yourself so well anymore. "So good. So fucking good, I—"

The way he switches between sucking on your clit and licking it is making your head spin, and with his finger fucking into you slow but deep it's getting harder and harder to think.

"J-Johnny..."

Your entire body is buzzing at this point. You squeeze your eyes shut, but that's a mistake. Because now all you can focus on is his touch. How he is making you feel. The way his mouth is worshiping your pussy like its his sole reason for breathing.

He slips a second finger inside of you, slowly and gingerly—careful to help you accommodate to the stretch. That delicious fucking stretch of his long yet thick fingers. Nimble and fucking skillful.

Your nails are basically digging into his scalp at this point, but it's either that or you rut into him like the bitch in heat that you currently are.

But if you do that, you two will be found out.

Your cover blown.

Which might just be the Scotsman's desired outcome, given how he ditches the slow and savoring rhythm he'd granted you and instead starts finger fucking you faster now.

Heat pulses in your veins as a familiar tingling sensation begins to rise from inside of you. Your toes begin to curl in your heels and you press your lips together. Hard. If you don't, moans far too loud for propriety's sake will come spilling out.

It is as though your head is swimming—thoughts drifting away as you will yourself to muffle every whimper and mewl that battles against your quivering lips.

You want to warn Johnny. Really, you do.

You want to tell him that you're about to cum.

But how can you?

If you open your mouth, it's over for you. For the both of you.

So, instead, your shaky fingers tap on his forehead as best as they can. And you think, maybe he's gotten the message. Maybe...if his doubled efforts are anything to go by.

Warmth washes over your body and tingles take over your lower limbs, slowly spreading to the rest of your body as he continues to finger fuck you. His mouth is seemingly permanently attached to your cunt, the Scotsman determined to gorge himself on you.

But then his tongue does a thing and his finger curl just right, hitting you deep inside.

It's too much.

Too fucking much.

Your entire body stiffens, stomach muscles clenching as your pussy pulses and clenches around his thrusting fingers and onto his sinful tongue. Your thighs tremble as your legs wrap around his muscular torso—so caught in the throes of passion that you unintentionally trapping him in your hold as you ride out your wave of pleasure.

(I did mention that he loves eating pussy...right?)

Honestly, you're not too sure how you two don't get caught.

You're not too sure how he didn't get caught sneaking under the table and you're not too sure how he doesn't get caught get out from under it now, either. But he doesn't.

Still slumped over the table, you're slowly coming back to your senses.

Johnny has moved to sit beside you and is rubbing your back and shoulders soothingly.

"Ye did so well, bonnie. Am sure naebody suspected a thin'."He praises, his hand rubbing gentle circles into your still trembling thigh.

You don't speak. Don't even pick up your head. You don't trust your voice quite yet. But, of course, now is when your waiter comes back with your food.

You hear the plates land gently on the cloth covered table and then nothing. There's a pregnant pause and you assume that the waiter has left, then there is a throat being cleared.

"Is...uh...is your companion alright, sir?"

"Aye, tha missus is fine."Johnny replies coolly, his hand as gentle and calming as ever. "Just a wee bit under tha weather. We'll actually take this tae go lad. Thank ye."

Once your waiter leaves, you lift your head and Johnny immediately hands you your glass of water and urges you to drink it.

You try to set it aside, but he won't let you—kindly yet firmly redirects the glass back to your hand. And this time, you do finally accept the water and drink a few meaningful sips.

"Good girl,"He murmurs, patting your now calmed knee. "Feelin' be'er?"

"I...well, yes. But..."You're at a loss for words. What are you supposed to say. How are you supposed to continue your date after that? "I just can't believe we did that..."

Johnny nods, a hint of a smirk on his lips. And as his expression shifts you can see a bit of sheen on his face.

Clearly, as you'd still been slumped over, he must have wiped his face with napkin. Not well enough, though. Not when there's remnants still glistening on his chin.

"Whot? Is somethin' on ma face?"He asks, his thumb brushing away your cream from the spot your gaze had zeroed in on.

And you watch in rapt attention as the motherfucker sucks it off of his goddamned finger.

"Well, ah cannae say ah regret it."He replies to you, his smirk becoming larger now. "Besides, ah figured ah only got one shot fer a good impression. Wanted tae make it count."

Your waiter comes back once more, this time with your packaged meals. Before you can even think about the bill, the waiter is sliding Johnny back his card—clearly indicating that the meal has already been paid for in full by the sergeant himself.

Not that he makes a big deal about it.

Not that he makes you feel like you owe him for it.

For any of it, actually.

He stands, grabbing both ornate takeout bags in one hand and extends the other for you to hold. "C'mon bonnie, let's get ye home."

Go home?

While you're busy wondering what he could possibly mean by that, Johnny chuckles and pulls your chair out some before extending his hand out to you once more.

"Amnae pig, bonnie. Real class, ah am. Ah'll drop ye off and let ye rest. Ye can call me when yer ready. Tomorrow. Tha day after. So on. And we can plan our next date then."

His words calm your racing thoughts enough for you to take his hand, walking with him out of the restaurant. Although...well, you certainly make it a point to not look back at the wet spot you've undoubtedly left on the chair.

"You seem confident I'll call you for a second date."You reply, giving him a side eyed glance as you step out into the evening air and he places his coat jacket over your shoulders.

Johnny looks at you and this time his expression is somewhere between a smirk and a smile—his blue eyes gleaming with a charming sense of mischief.

"Am quite confident in ma first impressions, bonnie."

—————————————

.....Is this anything? Lmao, I hope this didn't suck. It's been so long since I've written smut. So long since I've written full smut. Don't jump me! I hope this is what you were hoping for >_< if not, let me know and I can try again!

Also? Any grammar errors are totally between y'all and whatever creator you believe in. I did my best. I didn't proofread this frfr because...well, I never do. Never have. Probs never will. Never did in my wattpad days. Never have in all of my academia days either. With the power of big breasted men with juicy balls, em dashes, and dominant women on my side, it's me against the world! Grammatical errors fear me!!!

BTW! If you also just have any Qs regarding my thought process for this or for any of my blurbs/posts/whatevers you can always send an ask :D as long as you're respectful I am too. I promise I don't bite

[minhosimthings]

Silk and Pearls || SJY

Synopsis: He was the artist, and you were his muse. But what happens when his muse doesn't see herself like the way he sees her?

Pairings: fashiondesigner!Jake * Model!fem!reader

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, fingering, mirror sex, anal sex, unprotected p in v (not for you), bondage, use of handcuffs, edging, degradation, praise, sorta angsty in the beginning, insecure reader, overall good ol bf Jake, lots of kissing cause these two are FREAKS

A/N: hello my babies 😚 So here is the promised fashion designer Jake fic this was kinda fun to write because I was extremely horny lol. Anywho ENJOY

"Did I really make a dress that pretty or is it just you, my love?" 

You felt your cheeks warm up drastically at the sound of your boyfriend's voice, along with his face appearing behind you. You saw his eyes light up as you stared at him in the mirror in front of you, his wandering pupils admiring how snug you looked in the dress you were wearing. With its brilliant outlay of white chiffon along with its minute details of chartreuse pearls highlighting everything Jake wanted to, it was by far the most beautiful thing he had ever breathed life into. 

Or perhaps it was only because of the person who was wearing it. 

"Don't go putting your hard work all over my shoulders again, babe." You laughed, turning your body to face him, "I'm just the model."

"The model is the muse, might I remind you." Jake corrected you, leaning in to place his forehead on yours, his love-struck eyes gazing longingly into yours, "How did I manage to capture the bouts of your affection hm, mon amour?" 

"You spend one week in Paris for Fashion Week and suddenly you're a romance novelist." You laugh, raising your arms and placing them on either of his shoulders, "As for your question—" you pretended to think, all while ghosting your glossy lips over his plump ones, "—I don't think you'll ever get the answer to that." 

"Shame, I was hoping you'd say something overly sweet about me." Jake laughed, before smudging his lips against yours. His ever so slender tongue moved in your mouth, as his hold on your waist tightened. Pulling away (after what had seemed like a very short amount of time to him) from the kiss, Jake took pride in the fact that you were quite breathless. 

"Jaeyun.” you spoke in a scolding voice, lowering your voice to a comedic level, “We are at work.”

“Your point is?” 

“My point is-” you looked into his beautiful eyes with nothing but love and admiration, “-there are about five people who know about our relationship, and you know you can't get into a scandal, it will positively ruin your reputation, the reputation you-” you poked his chest with your finger, “-worked so hard to achieve.”

“Let them write what they want.” Jake spoke to you in a honey coated voice, as if you were the very oxygen his lunds consumed in order to keep themselves alive, “You, my love, are practically impossible to resist.”

“You better give me your Paris lessons when we get home,” you smirked, eyes wandering down to his lush lips again, “lover boy.” The space between the both of you was practically non-existent now, and Jake could feel the pearls of your dress slightly pierce him through his thin button-up shirt. Perhaps he regretted making such a beautiful dress, especially to dress you up in it, because the way the touch of your thigh on his and felt, he could rip it off right there and then, wasting his months of hard work, and devour you against the mirror. He wished he could see your divine eyes roll to the back of your head, while he ravished your pussy with his tongue, all whilst leaving his personal signature on your thighs. After all, that was what he added the thigh-high slit in the dress for.

“Yeun,” you warned him, as his hand trailed higher up your thigh, only stopping at the sound of your voice and giving a tight squeeze to the flesh, “You can have me all you want when we get home.” The sight of the pout on his face, a stark contrast to the siren eyes he held five seconds ago, made your mouth twist into a gentle smile.

“Don’t blame me if you can’t walk tomorrow morning, love.” He smirked and went in for a kiss, as beautiful as the wavering skyline of the city, all the building lights flickering along with the stars to remind the earth of how alive it was. In the deepest parts of the kiss, where your lips danced to a tune which you had memorised, love reigned its gentle rule.

____________________________________

The sound of makeup palettes being tossed on tables and brushes full of powder and eyeshadow being dabbed against porcelain skin overwhelmed you. The world will always see the perfect last outcome, of straight eyeliner that could cut stone, legs that could send Gods to their knees begging for mercy, lips that anyone would want to press infinite kisses to, and bodies wrapped in artworks. But they would never see the background of it all, the painful ordeal of sitting in a chair for hours to manipulate the face of a doll. Your ass had already gone numb ten minutes ago. 

“Alright, spill it to me. You have transfiguration powers right?” you joked, looking at your hair-and-makeup artist, Sunoo, who was running his slender fingers through your hair, making sure every strand fell into its correct place.

 “I went through painful cosmetology courses, just for you to call me a witch?” Sunoo scoffed, surveying you with a satisfied look on his face, ”Gee thanks for the compliment Y/N.”

“I’m joking you asshole.” you rolled your eyes, taking his outstretched hand and helping yourself out of the chair. Your butt silently thanked you, as you stretched your limbs, “Well don't I look pretty today?”

“Yes hon, the show-stopper obviously has to look pretty.” Sunoo sassed, putting his hands on his hips, “Jake really outdid himself with this one though, I am loving the pearls.”

You tried to keep your smile to yourself at the sound of your boyfriend’s name. Jake had made some ‘structural’ changes to the dress a night before the show so that it would fit more alluringly on your body. That is to say, he made the changes after getting inspiration from an hour’s session in your bedroom. 

“I just hope everyone will like it!” you said with an air of happiness.

“Of course they will.” Sunoo reassured you, “because number 1, it's on you and number two, it is on you.” He spoke every word with force, giving you his foxy smile before disappearing, telling you to wait in the room until someone called you. 

Sighing to yourself for no particular reason, you went back to admiring yourself. You truly looked regal, like some badass assassin who was going to murder someone at her wedding, a gunshot wedding, would be the perfect theme for Jake's next show, you thought, taking a mental note to tell him. After all, he did love experimenting with his reds and his whites. The door to the room was slightly ajar, which allowed the sounds from outside to enter. You moved towards it to close it. Stopping at the handle, at the sound of your name. 

“...not like she even has much talent. She’s literally getting in because of her boyfriend.” one of the girls, dressed in mauve silk told the one next to her. 

‘Wait, her boyfriend?” You heard the other one say, now shielding yourself from view with the door whilst eavesdropping. “Yeah, I’ve heard rumours you know?” The mauve girl said, “that her boyfriend is Mr.Sim, the designer. It makes sense wouldn't it?” she let out a crude laugh, “She’s not even that pretty and suddenly she gets to be showstopper. Yep, she’s definitely whoring herself out.” She laughed again, along with the other girl.

You felt your stomach sink as you quietly closed the door, not wanting to hear anything else. Is that really what the other models thought of you? That you were only here because of Jake? That you were only using him for your own benefit? 

You stared at yourself in the mirror again, brushing back the slit to reveal your leg. Your eyes wandered down the length of your entire body. What you had once so happily admitted, now looked like an ugly piece of flesh to you. Each imperfection caught your eye and you could feel the tears brimming at your eyeline. 

“Y/N!” you heard Sunoo cry out. Quickly swallowing the lump in your throat, you called back out, feeling relieved to see his face appear in the doorway. “Come on hon, you’re on in two.” Sunoo smiled, “Ahh you look so pretty!” he smiled, extending his hand to help you walk outside in your heels, “They’re gonna love you.”

“Thanks Sun.” You managed a smile, stepping out onto the boundary of the runway, where the show manager would give you the cue to walk. Taking a deep breath, you took on an expression of calm, to represent the serene and elegant atmosphere of the dress. And with a wave of the manager’s hand, you walked.

One foot in front of the other, you stared at the imaginary dot in front of you, just like you had been taught, with your heels clacking perfectly to the beat of the background music. The walk to the end of the runway had always felt so long, and this time was no exception. But as you reached there, and struck your pose, smiling for the cameras to take their pictures, you couldn't help but think about what the girls were saying earlier. 

Not now Y/n, you thought to yourself, pushing that thought to the back of your head, and concentrating on your current position. Giving your signature grin to the cameras, you spun on your heel and walked back, stopping in the middle to reveal your leg from the slit. You could hear the excited murmur from the crowd, smiling to yourself at the satisfaction you got. You struck your final pose with all the other models assembled on the stage, and then the pandemonium of roses and applause broke out. The people clapped like never before, and you could hear someone calling out Jake's name. You remained in your position until you felt a warm presence next to you, skipping your hand into his and guiding you along with him down the runway again.

Jake had never looked so beautiful, you thought, with two spikes of his  hair framing his face perfectly, like a lion’s mane. You tried to not let your eyes linger down to his chest, which remained open against his suit. God damn did he look handsome. You couldn't remember much of anything that followed. All that you thought about was the warm feeling of Jake's hand against your skin, and the way he bragged to everyone about his showstopper. 

Yet, there was something at the back of your mind that kept biting you. 

____________________________________

“You’re quiet today, love.” Jake commented, as you silently put your washed plate back on the shelf. He had noticed how low you had been ever since coming back from the show. At first he brushed it off as you being tired, after all, modelling is no piece of cake. But the fact that you had spoken less than five words to him even after taking a nap was concerning. 

"Just...tired." You mumbled, giving him an unconvincing smile. Jake tilted his head to one side and motioned for you to sit down next to him on the couch. 

"And do tired people usually cook dinner for their boyfriends instead of ordering pizza?" He asked, making you chuckle, "What's wrong sweetheart?" Jake placed his hand gently on your thigh, leaning in closer to you. You took a shaky breath in. 

"Yeun, you love me right?" Jake's entire world seemed to pause at your question.

Whatever did he do to make you ask that ridiculous question?

"Baby what are you saying?" He asked, sending you a soft smile, "Of course I love you and if this is about me taking the last cookie, I swear I'll ask Jay to bake you more."

"No, it's not that." You laughed, bringing your head down, "It's stupid really, I shouldn't even be worried." You took another deep breath, "I just heard some of the girls talking to each other today, you know saying some crap about how I'm only the showstopper because I'm your girlfriend and everything." Before you knew it, you were rambling, "And I really do love you, you know. I'm not only in this relationship because I want to use you or something and i know I'm not really that pretty for you to love me but—"

"Y/N."

The sound of your name dropping from his lips silenced you. You stared down at your legs, fiddling with the edge of your (Jake's) shirt, until his fingers intertwined into yours. His touch was warm as always, comforting like the sea breeze on a beach day. 

"Baby, look at me." Jake said, prompting you to lift your head, "Properly, Y/N." He said again, when you avoided his eyes. Jake smiled when you finally looked him in the eye. 

"I don't want you to ever think even for a second that you're not the most beautiful human being I've ever met." Your eyes widened at his soft words, "Baby, you were the showstopper today, because you worked hard for it, not because you're my girlfriend and the love of my life." A smile twitched at the corner of your lips, "And I'm going to need the names of those girls right now, for extremely unrelated reasons."

You burst out laughing, wiping away a stray tear that had fallen from your right eye. "Are you going to murder them for me?" You asked, to which Jake put his finger to his temple and pretended to think, "I'm not going to bail you out Yeun." You said, slapping his chest playfully. 

"But seriously though—" Jake's eyes softened, as he took your hands in his, bringing your knuckles to his lips to kiss them, "—I love you so much, I'd go to the ends of the Earth if you asked me to." He brushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear, "And if anyone ever thinks that you didn't work your fine ass off to get where you are, they'll be very close to the 'Jake firing list'." 

A moment of silence followed before the both of you burst out laughing at his statement. Jake took the opportunity to pull you by your waist closer to you. 

"Well then—" Your eyes wandered from his eyes to his lips, "—can I perhaps see that list?" Your body was practically merged with Jake's, with his hands slapped on your waist, and your arms around his neck. 

"Well then we would have to go to my studio wouldn't we?" Jake said in a lower tone, biting his lip. His eyes stayed on yours, as he swiftly lifted you up, making you wrap your legs around his hips for support. Your breasts were extremely close to his face, a fact which Jake was relishing. A giggle erupted out of your mouth as his hands gave a squeeze to your buttcheek, his feet slowly leading the both of you into the bedroom. 

“I assume your studio is your bedroom then?” You laughed, as Jake entered the darkly lit bedroom, the only source of light being the faded night lamp that he kept for ‘the aesthetic’. Jake chuckled before going in for a kiss.

It started as a small kiss. A peck. A brush of the lips so gentle you barely felt it until he pressed his mouth to yours fully. There was no tongue, nor any breathlessness when he pulled away and looked at you again. But you could feel the shift in the air. The drop in your stomach and sudden stillness in the room while a white noise clouded your head. 

“The bed is right there, Yeun.” You said, eyeing him suspiciously as he carried you across the bed and towards the huge dressing mirror. Jake said nothing, choosing to set you down very close to the mirror, while his hands gripped your waist. He knew he had gotten you trapped in between his arms, just the way you liked it. You’re a little light-headed, blistered beneath the skin, needy and fidgeting. Maybe you want him to hold you still, to fit you tight against him, to fight against your struggle—something carnal deep down that gets off on his strength, the power you know he can wield over you.

“How about I show my beautiful princess how pretty she really is hm?” He whispered in your ear, his hot breath fanning your neck ever so slightly.

He manoeuvred you so you were facing the mirror. He was right behind you, his eyes hard. “The woman you're looking at right now is the prettiest one I've ever seen. How can you say she's ugly?” You opened your mouth to say something, but a moan escaped instead as he bit into your shoulder. 

 He began to press you flat against the mirror. The cool touch of glass on your cheeks combined with his hands reaching underneath your shirt to squeeze your breasts made you let out an unholy noise. Jake smirked as he heard you moan, his ego was filled to the brim as he realised how wet he made you just from his touch. 

“Ah fuck Yeun,” you moan to him as his palms knead your breasts through the bra. You barely had time to notice his hands leave your chest, as he grabbed the edges of your shirt and pulled it off of you in one swift motion, leaving you almost naked in your bra and panties. You felt his erection press through his pants to your ass, as his lips started trailing down your body, pressing heavenly kisses until your hips. You whined as his hands gripped your thighs, squeezing them as if they were stress toys. 

"You look away from the mirror even once…,” he said, his hands squeezing your thighs roughly, his legs now carrying him back up to place his chin on your shoulder, his face set in a smirk, “and you won't get to cum.”

 His hands squeeze your thighs harder, bordering on pain. “Shh princess,” he said, slowly yet firmly as if talking to a child. His hands move downwards, one moves to your hip, and for the other, his fingers slip inside your panties. You whimper when his fingertip touches your clit.

 At any other time, he would have been slow, and gentle when he was rubbing the bud but now? His touch was fast and unconcerned, his sole goal was to inflict punishment with pleasure. 

Jake's finger flicked out against your clit again, making you yelp and squeeze your thighs against his hand. Your hand pressed hard against the mirror, as you looked at Jake's smug face behind you, while yours was contorted into one of absolute pleasure. This time he ran his finger up to your clit and then back down and into you. You moaned, practically riding his fingers at this point. Jake laughed, digging his hands into your hips, uncaring if he broke skin.

"Yeun—Yeun ah fuck!" A string of broken moans escaped your lips, as you felt the knot in your stomach tightening. Your mind has forgotten all about the incident of the morning, your attention now only on the way his fingers fit inside your pussy, like a glove. The pace of his fingers fastened, as his middle finger drove across your clit, repeatedly assaulting the place Jake knew drove you crazy.

"Yeun!" You screamed, your tears staining the mirror, as you felt your pussy clench around nothing when Jake's fingers pulled out, “Wh-”

“Told you princess.” His mutter in that seductive australian accent of his drove you crazy, “Eyes away from the mirror means no cumming.” You silently seethed at him smirking behind your shoulder, as his lips latched onto your skin once more, pressing marks all over as if it were his personal signature. His fingers hooked underneath the waistband of your panties, as you easily moved them off of you, with you lifting your legs to give him better access. Jake chuckled silently with how obedient you were being. Soon, he was quickly unbuckling his pants to unveil his already hard twitching cock eager to pound into you. 

“gonna let me fuck you princess? gonna be a good girl for me?” he says, stroking his dick as he swipes his thumb over his slit wiping away his precum yet it still spews out, covering thumbs in the substance.

Your eyes widened and hurried, almost rushing gasps left your mouth in quick succession which, combined with the low guttural groans coming out of Jake’s throat created an almost perfect melody. His thick length was taking its sweet time in spilling your ass apart, completely tearing you open, until you were panting from just the entrance. Jake’s low, mocking chuckles left your mind empty, as his hands pulled your waist flush against him, trying to bury his cock in even deeper.

“Yeun-I can’t!” you cried out in desperation, although all you wanted was for the entirety of his length to be bruised deep inside you, “Slow down!”

Your whines resonated against the walls of the room, as light particles of fog started appearing on the surface of the mirror, gathering at the place where your mouth was repeatedly moaning both profanities and Jake’s name, turn by turn. The tip of his cock was practically hitting your cervix at this point, and you were on the verge of fainting, with your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“Eyes on the mirror, princess.” Jake reminded you, smirking at your fucked out expression. He always did love making you feel like putty in his hands, and this was no exception. Your eyes snapped back to your reflection and they trailed over Jaeyun behind you. His handsome face was set like a painting, with two strands of his hair framing it in a delightfully sexy way.

His hips hit you harder, giving you every inch of him. “Fuckkk.. princess, you’re doing such a good job -- taking me so goddamn well,” he says, punctuating his words with another hard thrust.

His expression grows almost enamoured at how you're squeezing him-tense, as he thrusts into you, balls slapping against your ass at his relentless pace. Hot, searing pleasure makes its way up your spine-emitting a low, almost inaudible, squeal from you as he pinches your clit.

He fucks you in earnest, feeding you his cock like you haven’t had a meal in years. All you can do is watch, admire the look of his face, the perspiration that gathers on the edge of his hairline as his fingers grip your legs harder. 

You’re a babbling mess — crying out with every thrust. It’s mostly wordless, except for when his name leaves your lips like a prayer. The room is filled with the sound of his balls slapping your ass, that wanton sound of skin-on-skin.

“Fuck-gonna cum.” You hear him mutter in that same sultry voice that could get you cumming without him even touching you.

“Yeun, ah—ah,” you moan, but he cuts you off, the sound of skin-on-skin fills the air.

Jake groans as his balls draw up and begin to tighten. Now deep inside you, as the pressure finally breaks and he lets himself go, spilling every ounce of him into you. Heaven and hell collide in that moment, blurring into a world where only you exist—like nothing else matters but the two of you tangled together, lost in the alchemy of it all. You feel the hot liquid drip down your thighs as you lay your forehead against the mirror, your chest riding and falling periodically as you attempt to calm down. You were so caught up in your cock-drunk high that you didn't even notice Jake pulling out slowly, releasing more of his cum onto your skin.

"Good girl....took me so well." Jake praised you in muttered words from behind, making his own breathing steady, "Bed, baby?" 

"Thank you." You sighed, feeling sleepy as ever, completely oblivious of the fact that Jake was not about to put you to sleep. 

You couldn't comprehend what happened in the next few moments, just the fact that in what seemed like mere seconds, your back was pressed against the soft mattress, with Jake's face inches from yours as he loomed above you. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

"Think you can take my cock again, pretty?" He asked you, with a lopsided smirk on his face, "Or is my baby too tired?" 

"N-No." You stuttered, the feeling of his breath on your skin made you shiver, no matter how warm it was. You must have been in this position at least a hundred times, but it always got you feeling like it was your first time when you were all nervous and shaking beneath him.  

Jake chuckled, pressing another one of the thousand kisses he had given you, and reached over (with some difficulty) to the bedside drawer. Pulling it open, he drew something out. 

"How about these for tonight hm?" He asked, dangling the handcuffs above your face, "Will you be a good girl for me?" 

You said nothing, dumbly nodding to his every word. Jake took your wrists in his hand and pinned them above your head. Your arms stretched properly, before he latched them up to the bed frame, you winced at the cold touch of the metal. You always had wondered why the frame was made up of twisting coils of iron, before you got your answer in the form of handcuffs.

Jake leaned in once more, this time, pressing a chaste kiss to your jaw, effectively silencing you. You tilted your head back, giving him better access to the crook of your neck. You sucked in a shaky breath as you felt the points of his teeth grazing feather light across the sensitive skin, goosebumps erupting on your skin and heat settling in your lower stomach. You could practically feel him smile against you at your reaction, ever so cocky to see you melting into his touch

Jake settles between your legs, sliding his hands under your thighs to gently manipulate you upwards. His bare cock slides through your slick folds, the head catching on your clit and making you groan in unrestrained want. You reach out to grab his body, dizzy with desire, but you can't. Your hands are bound with the cuffs so tightly, that you couldn't even reach the lock.

You can only cry into the dark night, feeling his throbbing cock stretching out your walls as he pounded you in so hard there was sure to be a dent in the mattress. Your walls would remember the stretch and think only of him. 

“Yeun—S-slow down…” You mewled, juices spraying out and coating your clit as it drips down, teardrop shapes sure to stain your face.

The back of your head presses as tight as it can against the pillow, you were stifling the guttural moan that rips from your throat. You could die like this suffocated and blissfully impaled on Jake’s cock and be happy. Your hands, bound tightly above you, itched to reach out and take his hair into your hands.

With a tight grip on your waist Jake fucks into you at his own pace, watching how easily you accept him, covering him with your essence. It feels fucking fantastic. 

His skin slaps against yours rhythmically. You swear you can cum at that moment but he knows all your tells and he slows his pace, pushing into you only when the tip remains. Long, slow strokes keep you from cumming.

“Yeun–Jaeyun~” You whine, already so close to cumming, “Please–let me cum,”

Jake responds with a harsh chuckle, almost a scoff, as if to ask how you even dared to say those words. His already slow movements slow down even more, practically stopping at the point, which only made you titchy and uncomfy. That boundary that was present at the pit of your stomach was ready to break, but Jake wasn't about to let it.

“Not until you say you’re my pretty girl.” He smirks, his cock still buried deep inside you, unmoving. You scoff at his words.

“I'm your pretty girl.” you say, in an almost bored voice, wanting nothing more than for him to get moving, “Now can you please–”

Your sentence faded into a deep groan, as Jake's cock swiftly pulled out from your pussy. It was painful, agonising even, to feel nothing but cool air at the tip of our labia.

“Nicer, baby.” Jake whispered, but just as you opened your mouth, you were stopped by the intrusion of his long finger into your gasping hole.He chuckles quietly, snaking a hand up over your stomach. the rough pad of his hand finds your breast, kneading it in his palm whilst his other hand holds you firm against him. His gaze is still trained on you, dragging over the lush sight of your flushed face, your lips parted in small pants, the dark look in your eyes. He loves watching you fall apart at his smallest ministrations. more than half of his pleasure comes just from working you up like this, pushing you to the brink without even trying. 

“Alright, I'll give you a little help.” Jake says, his free hand reaching cover to your hands. With a click sound, the handcuffs trottled off of you, leaving your hands free to finally reach out to him. But he wouldn't let you, not until you've done what he wanted you to do. 

“Did I cover your mouth?” his words echo as he pins your wrist over your head once more. “Answer me, princess.” 

“Yes!” You screamed out, unable to take his teasing anymore,”Yes–fuck I’m your pretty girl!” And that’s all he wants because he’s dropping you down, shoving his entire dick inside until your eyes burst with tears feeling his thick trimmed hair tickling your clit, completely bottoming out. 

“Yeun…I-I need you more please.” your eyes were filled with tears as you held his hair, fingers rubbing against his scalp, the other digging into his shoulders as you drooled. Such a mess in such a small time. Jake shuts his eyes and throws his head back.. 

“Oh—ohhhh—fuckin’—,” a string of pleasured sounds is leaving his open mouth and you follow him, reveling in the sensation of him pushing your walls apart, filling you nicely like no one has ever had.

You both are moaning, chasing your climaxes with increasing intensity. You tilt your hips a little to press your pulsating clit against the fluff of his pubic hair and grind your pussy over his lower belly. Jake’s cock moving deep inside you, your clit twitching in his coarse hair, all the sensations combined light up your body.

"I love you," you whimpered when his hips began to grind into you, giving your clit that extra stimulation you needed to feel your orgasm swell low in your belly, your jaw dropping and your breath quickening with each forceful thrust, “God–I love you so much!” Your last words faded out in a scream.

“Yeun, i’m close,” you sob, your voice shaking. You feel his hips snap against yours, skin slapping in the quiet night as he drills you into the mattress. The room smells of him, like cologne and something woody, and it drives you even closer to the edge. He’s taking over your senses; the sight of him hovering over you, muscles in his abdomen clenching and rippling as he fucks into you is enough to make you scream on its own. 

The bed sheets are fisted in your hands as you hold on. Your nipples brushing against the bed with each thrust. It doesn’t take long at all for you to titter over the edge. Your pussy squeezing tightly around him, milking him for all he’s worth.

 He’s not far behind, hips meeting yours with a force that is almost painful, though you’re far too distracted by the fireworks blooming behind your eyelids. You feel him spill into you, hot seed pouring into your soaked cunt and making your thighs shake. His groans are hoarse, a couple grunted curses and growls of your name joining your chorus of moans in the room. He sits up once you’ve both ridden out your high, heads swimming as he watches his cum spill from between your legs when he pulls out.

"fucking hell..." You hear him swear under his breath, wincing at the absence of your hole wrapped around him. Nevertheless, he swiftly moves towards the bathroom, to fetch you a towel. You didn't have even an ounce of energy in your body to lift your head, so you resorted to letting it stay on the pillow, whilst your legs stopped shaking from the wondrous orgasms that your body had experienced.

"Baby do you wanna take a b-" Jake froze, at the foot of the bed, towel clutched in hand, and eyes set on you. You looked so calm and serene, taking shallow breaths as you snuggled into the mattress and slept. Jake chuckled at the sight.

Not wanting to wake you up, he gently wiped your legs with the towel, and—after cleaning himself off, slipped into the bed next to you. You automatically adjusted to his warm body next to you, practically throwing yourself onto him and using him like a mattress, but he didn't mind. Jake pressed a kiss to the side of your head, and only squeezed you closer, as if you'd float away if he let go.

"I love you." He muttered with a lovesick smile on his face, before he eventually drifted off to sleep, "My pretty baby."

Fin.

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