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#i feel so much better after writing this down lol
vivwritesfics · 1 day
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So mick or max
Heat/rut
Reader having been waiting for it and purposely flirting with others people to trigger it
(Driver doesn't Wang to mate cause he has seen how much in pain a human can be if mated to a wolf)
Now that has been thrownxoit the window
Reader being fucked seven ways to sunday, being mates cuaee they are literally begging for it 🫠👹👹
Throw ib some breeding kink and a worried driver afterwards and it is 👌🫶
I LOVE YOU
Hope you feel better 🫶🫶🫶
ILYYYYYY and I went with Max bc I don't write mick lol - also I haven't written abo in maybe three years so I'm a little rusty but damn I've missed it.
Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, smut, oral (fem!receiving), p in v, biting, hickies, breeding kink
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Max could have killed her. Not literally, he loved her too much to let his instincts take over like that. Well, his instincts would have told him to protect her.
The way she was giggling with Daniel and hanging off of his arm, Max let the growl rip from his throat. How dare she even think about touching another Alpha.
But it wasn't her fault. She couldn't understand the surge of emotions he was feeling when she was so utterly human. But she was his human.
She turned to Max, batted her pretty eyelashes at him and walked away from Daniel. Max released a breath, but he didnt have long to stay calm. Because then she was walking towards Charles.
He may have been a Beta, but he shouldn't have been scenting her like that. What the fuck was he doing, pressing his nose against her neck like that? If only Max had the guts to claim her, Charles wouldn't dare.
When she made a move towards Esteban, a Beta Max didn't particularly like, he growl and grabbed a hold of her, practically throwing her over his shoulder like a ragdoll.
"Max!" She squeaked, almost excitedly. If she was like him, she would have been able to feel his anger. But she was too human for that.
Max carried her to his drivers room, not caring about the others around him. The world knew about his mate, since he simply couldn't stay away from her.
Once in his drivers room, Max set her down. "What do you think you're doing?" He growled, sticking his nose into her neck and scenting her. She smelt like Daniel and Charles, and he hated it.
The laughing and giggles had stopped as he stared down at her with his steely blue eyes. No, she had become almost sheepish under the stare of the big bad wolf. "I, uh, I heard that jealousy can trigger a rut," she mumbled under her breath.
"Liefde," he said through a groan, nosing at the spot where the mark of his claim over her should be. "Why on earth would you want to do that?"
She pouted at him as he pulled away. "You always say you race better after a rut."
Max let out a laugh, one that reverberated through his chest. "Can you let me get through this race weekend first? And then maybe it will come about naturally."
She knew what he meant. Triggering his rut now would stop him from racing all together. There would be no way to remove him from the bed, remove him from her cunt. Trigger his rut now and he wouldn't stop until his seed filled her belly.
She'd been through one rut with Max before. It was more intense than anything She'd ever been through before. But she loved it. Max, though, he'd been panicking, worried he'd been hurting her through his muddied brain.
She let him get through the weekend. Wore his shirt, his hat, made sure she smelt like him before he raced.
Of course, he won. Maybe it was his desperation to get back to her.
The moment he crossed the finish line, she was in his arms, kissing him the moment he took off his helmet. A win always meant sex, plus his rut was definitely coming.
Max couldn't wait to be done with all the usual formalities. The interviews, the podiums, the meeting with the team. He was irritable, desperate to get to where she was waiting in his hotel room.
As soon as he was done with everything, he made this way back to the hotel. He was rushing, desperate to get back to her.
If all of his flirting with Max's pack mates didn't trigger his rut, seeing her sitting on his bed in the prettiest little negligee certainly did. Maybe it was the smell of her that had a growl leaving his lips and his eyes flashing as he stared down at her.
Immediately he was tenting his pants. She just looked so goddamn pretty, he couldn't get enough. Immediately he pressed his lips to her own. For two seconds, it was sweet.
But then Max had taken over completely, his tongue in her mouth, lips bruising against her own. He moved his lips to her neck and began kissing down the right side. He paid special attention to where her mating mark should have been. But Max wouldn't give her that mark, not until he had a clear mind.
He didn't notice that his hips were grinding against her own. But she was whining as he did, gripping his shoulders.
If Max had more control over his own body, he would have pulled back, would have told her to get out and to let him take care of it on his own. But, in that moment, all he wanted was his girl.
She whined out his name as her fingers reached down to try and pull off his jeans. But the way he was holding her, she was unable to get a good grip. "Need you," she cried through a whine, hands returning to her hair.
Through his muddied mind, Max managed to understand her. Maybe it was because he was feeling the exact same thing. He popped the button on his jeans expertly (his gaming had left him with incredibly skilled fingers) and pulled down the zipper.
But he didn't free himself, not yet. First, he needed to taste her.
His fingers pulled up the material of her negligee, bunching it around her hips. The noise pulled from his lips was inhuman as his lips met the skin of her thigh. God, he loved it, loved noises she made as his lips got closer and closer.
The feel of his tongue running through her folds shouldn't have come as a surprise. But she still released a gasp. "All mine," he said against, the vibrations of his words sending a shiver through his body.
As he sucked at her clit, his fingers moved to penetrate her, the squelching sounds obscene as they filled the room. Her hips rolled against him, riding his fingers Her fingers threaded through his hair, tugging and pulling. She cried out his name and he grunted.
Her movements were desperate and frantic as she chased her own release. Max had stopped moving his fingers, lips still working as he let her work herself on his fingers.
But Max didn't let her come undone. He pulled away from her, eyes flashing as he freed himself from his jeans. He pulled her close, holding her legs up to her chest. He pressed his nose against her neck and inhaled.
As his cock pushed through her folds, he pressed kisses against her neck. If he could have said anything other than 'mine' as he rutted against her, he would have told her he loved her.
He set a bruising pace as she felt his teeth against her neck. She couldn't say anything other than his name, leaving her lips like a prayer. He rolled his hips against her own again and again, the pace he set animalistic and bruising.
It didn't take long until she came undone beneath him, body shaking as her legs clamped around his middle. Incoherent babbles left her lips as Max kept going, gripping her so fucking tight.
"Gonna fill you up," he said between grunts. "Gonna breed you until you're full of my babies."
His teeth sank into the skin of her shoulder, not hard enough to break it, as he came. His hips stilled, but he didn't pull out, body half laying against her own.
When Max finally pulled out of her, he laid beside her and touched that spot on her shoulder. "I'm sorry, liefde," he whispered, fingers brushing the hickies and marks littering her skin.
The few minutes he had of clarity before he was ready to go again was spent cuddling. He was going to fill her over and over again for the next few days and, if she wasn't on birth control, there was no way she would have been coming out of this rut not pregnant.
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bisexualiteaa · 3 days
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Hi honey, I just discovered your Cooper fics today and oh my gods. They're incredible, I love the way you write him ❤️. I was wondering, if you're still taking requests that is (no pressure like), if you could do a sub! Cooper x reader? Preferably male!reader or with male genitalia, but fem is totally okay if you're not comfortable with that 😁. I just think Coop with a taller, more muscular partner is neat.
I'm thinking the reader was secretly married to Coop and Barb beforehand, but lost part of their memories after they became a ghoul and one of the best bounty hunters around, wearing a mask. And all they remember about Coop is how beautiful his eyes were (Walton Goggins has the most gorgeous eyes ever, I swear 😫) So the reader wants the head too and tags along with the gang, eventually getting closer to Cooper. During a fight, reader gets hurt and Coop comes over to help them, but reader is finally close enough to properly see his eyes and realises it's him. Coop takes off the mask, reader remembers, there's tears, kisses, and eventually super soft, subby sex.
So, really just really angsty, then fluffy when they find each other after 200 years. Reader taking care of our baby girl Coop, and him just accepting the love and being a pillow princess. Maybe a little overstim and edging if we're feeling spicy 😉.
I'm so sick for this man, it's unhealthy. Thanks again for your amazing work, love. I absolutely made my day better! (Sorry for how long this ask is 🙃).
It’s Been a Long, Long Time
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Cooper Howard x Ghoul Fem Reader (angst-fluff!)
CW: pre-ghoul Cooper, established relationship, reader and Cooper were married and had a child together, character death, cursing, angst!! But don’t worry, it’s a happy ending, slight OOC Cooper, slight deviation from the TV series
AN: not me posting this at 3am before I leave for a trip for the weekend, I feel like I’ve depraved y’all! 😂 I wanted to post this to give y’all some good Cooper Content ™️ before I go on a three day hiatus for vacation! 🥺 Thank you all to the people who have submitted asks, I promise I am still working on them/towards getting to them! ❤️ In the meantime, I hope you all enjoy this one! @kinatanhi I hope I did your request justice! I know it’s a little tweaked from what you sent in and forgive me, I wrote this literally an hour ago at 2am because it finally came to me what I wanted to write, but seeing as it was written at 2am, y’all please forgive me if it isn’t my best work, I tried my best lol. 😭❤️
You smiled happily as you danced with your husband in your shared, quaint little kitchen, his hands coming to rest at your waist as they always did, and your arms looped around his neck. You were thankful that the producers on set of his movie, as well as his agent, allowed him to come home early in order to celebrate your birthday with you. You stood smiling up at him as you two danced- well, more like swayed, to the slow music playing from the radio. You lay your head against his chest, smiling as your eyes set on the gorgeous flowers that were lying on the kitchen counter that he brought home just for you. You smiled up at him when you caught him staring down at you with nothing but love and adoration in his gaze. “What’s that look for, hmm?” You asked with a playful smile, making him chuckle and flash that gorgeous smile of his that you loved so much, almost as much as his eyes that you swore you could be lost in forever. “Nothin’, just that I’m lucky enough to have married the most beautiful woman on this earth” he said, making you hum appreciatively at his cute answer. “Oh stop it, you charmer you” you replied, making him scoff in fake offense, making you giggle at his dramatics. “I’ll have you know I don’t go throwin’ that ‘round willy-nilly, little lady” he assured, making you smile wider at him as you laughed. “I know, I’m a lucky woman to call you my husband” you replied sweetly, getting up on your tip toes to kiss him as you looped your arms around his neck once more.
Those were better days, days when things were so simple, times where all you had to worry about was nothing more than how long the pie was in the oven, or how your baby was doing. It was a pleasant memory, one you’d never forget as the last time you’d seen your husband since the war. That night flooded your memories each time you’d lay down to close your sunken in eyes, they were the only thing about you now that remained as human as they were back before you became a ghoul. You swore to yourself that you’d find him one day, swore that you would kill the bastards that started all this, that took your baby girl away from you before she had a chance at a good life and separated you from your husband. You prayed each and every night that he was still out there, still alive somewhere, roaming the wastelands like you were. You knew it was doubtful at best, maybe it was better if he wasn’t alive to live through the shit you have, to see the way you look, but one could only hope for the better things. You no longer looked the same way you used to back then. Your soft, nearly perfect skin was now marred and leathery, your teeth yellowed from radiation exposure, poor diet and lack of ability to actually care for them, and your nose was now missing completely from your face, a deep hole sitting where the cartilaginous appendage once did. You wondered if he would even love you still in this state, if he’d even recognize you. You couldn’t blame him if he didn’t, you weren’t that same woman anymore physically or emotionally. Anger and vengeance had a hold on your heart like a vice death grip, you were kind to those who deserved it sure, but to those who crossed you? Those who hurt you? Let’s just say there’s a reason you’re a feared bounty hunter out here in the wastelands and not in a vault somewhere.
You were walking into Filly one late morning, coming to pay a visit with Ma June to see if there was anything she needed, any bounty she may have had for you for some extra caps. Your supply of chems to keep you from going feral was running low, you were down to your last bottle in your inhaler, and in desperate need of more. As you strode into town, you pulled your bandana up over your nose, effectively covering your face below your eyes, your large hat casting a shadow on the rest. You weaved your way through the vendors as they were trying to shove goods at you and anyone who was behind or around you. As you waded though, your ears caught the sound of a deep, southern accent that sounded awfully familiar to you. “I ain’t interested unless you got RadAway” he spoke harshly to the vendor haggling him, and you had to do a double take. He sounded just like your husband. You turned in the hopes to place a body to the voice but by the time you could, he was already lost into the crowd, impossible to find amongst the sea of people now that he wasn’t speaking to anyone anymore.
You huffed to yourself, wondering if maybe you were just hearing things, or maybe you were just plain out delusional at this rate. It wouldn’t shock you, between the years of radiation exposure, radiation sickness, and everything in between, you wouldn’t be shocked to find out you’d gone mad. However you wanted ever so badly for it to have been him that was speaking. To run up to him, arms outstretched, tears down your face but a happy smile as you called his name. But you couldn’t, you couldn’t even find the man attached to the voice anymore so why make a fool and draw attention to yourself. No one took kindly to ghouls. So with a heavy heart, you pushed on, making it to the doorstep of Ma June’s shop when you heard him again. “50 caps? That’s just plain ridiculous. 30, take it or leave it” he bartered, making you turn around again, only this time you caught him. You spotted a man that was tall, around the same height as your husband, clad in a wild western style cowboy outfit. You thought it was familiar, from the hat all the way down to the boots, it reminded you of him but a lot of people out here in the wastes wore Wild West themed clothes, deeming themselves cowboys and cowgirls of the wild wastelands. You wished he would turn around, you needed to see his face, hell just his eyes would be enough to sate the curiosity that was eating away at you. You’d forever recognize those eyes, they were so unique, so him. So beneath the shade you stood, observing him from a distance to be safe. That was until Ma June saw you standing there through the window of her shop, and she had a job for you that was important so she couldn’t wait for you to be done with whatever it was your were doing before she drug you inside. “What are you standin’ around out here for? I got a job for you!” She exclaimed, grabbing you and pulling you inside right as the man turned to walk away. You groaned in frustration as your only chance at an answer was stolen from you, but little did you know that your commotion made him stop to watch curiously as you went inside. Something about that dress you were wearing looked awful familiar to him but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it, so he just kept walking.
As the next couple of days passed by, the curiosity was absolutely eating away at your mind. You wondered if you were on the brink of going feral with how your thoughts were screaming that it could have been him. You wished she would have waited until you could have gotten a better look at him than just his back and his clothes, though they felt familiar, akin to something he would have worn on the set to his movies, you just couldn’t be sure. So you continued on, traveling with a random person’s head in your bag, wrapped up in an old T-shirt that was soaked through with blood now as you were on your way back from your bounty for Ma June. It was a particularly hot day outside, one of those days where no matter how much water drank, you just couldn’t keep the heat away or the dehydration at bay. So as you sucked down the last of your water in your canteen, you did your best to stave off the coughing fit that was bubbling in the back of your throat like a horrible itch you just could never scratch. Unfortunately for you, it wasn’t enough, and seeing as you hit your inhaler for the last of your supply yesterday, you were shit out of luck. Damn it, you were so close too, you felt it. You couldn’t go like this, not without finding him, not without avenging your child and going after those Vault-Tec bastards that stole her and your husband from you. “Damn it!” You choked out as you clutched your chest, your coughing fit sending you to your knees in the sand where you laid in the hopes that it would let up sometime soon and you could continue moving. This couldn’t be the end for you, it just couldn’t be. You wouldn’t let it.
As you laid there, throat burning as you were hacking up your lungs, you saw a figure walking along the horizon in the distance. You wondered if maybe this was what they spoke of when people said their loved ones come and take them away right before they pass, or maybe it was just another hallucination, all you knew is that they were coming closer and closer to you. You reached for your gun with all the strength you could offer through your coughing fit and weakened state, unsure of whether they were a raider or someone with just plain ill intention. As they drew closer, you looked up to see another ghoul stabbing before you, his cowboy hat casting a slight shade over his face but even through the tears in your vision you could see his eyes. They were gorgeous, they looked just like how you remember your husband’s looked the last time you had a chance to look into them, making you look him over but it was so hard to tell. He was a man who had succumbed to the same fate you did, leathery skin, no nose, ruined ears, but his eyes…god they were so familiar. You saw him cock his head while looking at you, investigating your features, you could tell there was something about you that he was intrigued with.
“I feel your pain there, sister” he said, that southern drawl coming out sounding just like him, and god how it made your heart ache. He bent down to see you better, taking a better look at you. “I’ll be damned if somethin’ ‘bout you ain’t familiar though” he said, making you look up at him, and in that moment as he looked into your eyes, he could have sworn it was you, his long lost wife. He held hope it his heart, but it was a cruel world out here, he couldn’t be sure. “Your eyes, they look a lot like my wife’s did” he said, and you took that as your chance to see if it was really him. “C-Coo…per…?” You rasped out the best you could, needing to know if it was really him, needing to know if he was alive or if you were just going crazy. His eyes went wide for a moment before reaching for his gun, making your heart jump in your chest with anxiety. “How do you know my name?” He asked coldly, his eyes looking angrily upon you and it made your heart wrench in your chest but beat fast all the same to know it was him. “Tell me! How do you know my name?” He said angrily, making you raise your hands up to show you weren’t dangerous, you cursed your inability to speak properly or else you’d have answered his question already. “Be..cause…we were…Mar…ried” you rasped out once more, showing him your wedding ring that he bought you that rested on your ring finger, making him soften up for just a moment. “After two hundred years… could it really be?” he asked softly to himself in disbelief, but once again, he reminded himself that this world was a cruel place where people stoop to things lower than they ever did before. To him, you could have been anyone, maybe no more than a random stranger who pick pocketed that precious ring off of his wife, a total stranger playing as his beloved to get to his weakness. He pointed his gun at you once more, making tears come to your eyes even more now, had you said something wrong? Why was he mad at you? You hadn’t left on bad terms last you remember, but then again it’s hard to remember as far back as two centuries. “How do I know, huh?” He asked aggressively, and you figured it was a valid worry, you knew how awful this world was now, you couldn’t blame him for needing the reassurance. He needed to be sure it was truly you. “How do I know it’s really you?” He asked, waiting for you to stop coughing long enough to give him an answer. “What’s…that look…for?” You asked, something you always asked him when he stared at you in awe, or when he looked at you right before you two went to bed, it was like your signature phrase. You weakly removed the bandana covering your face, trying your best to show him any bit of your features left that you could use to show him it was really you. “It’s me…Coop. Y/N…” you rasped as saliva began to well in your mouth at the sight of him, slowly losing control over yourself as time passed. He’d never dropped his gun so fast, or fell to his knees so quick in his entire life than in that moment, the only other time was the moment he found out you were pregnant with his child, dropping to his knees to kiss your belly and place his hands on it excitedly. “Oh my god…Y/N” he said in utter shock and disbelief that you were here, you were alive. You were a ghoul now which hurt him to know you suffered the same pain as him, but you were alive and that’s what mattered most to him, finally having found you after all the years spent hoping you were still alive out here.
“Here baby, here, hold on. I gotchya” he said, quickly grabbing his inhaler with a vial of the chems you’d run out of last night, never needing it more than in this moment to keep you from turning feral on him. He pressed it to your lips, pushing the plunger on it to get the chems in your system. You inhaled it like a breath of fresh cool air, sending you coughing once more but that itch was slowly fading away, you could breathe again. You looked up at him as you laid there weakly, your head in his lap. “My hero” you said weakly, trying to be funny but he was too caught up in looking into your eyes, getting himself to believe what was right in front of him. “Two centuries I’ve spent looking for you…” you said, your eyes scanning him and his features to assure yourself too that this was real, that he really was sitting here before you, alive and well. Or as well as one could be as a ghoul in the wastelands. You smiled as you teared up, seeing the tears in his eyes as he looked down at you, pulling you up and into a hug. “Oh god…I can’t believe you’re alive” he said, hugging you tight and you did the same, burying your face into his shoulder. “I could say the same to you. I always knew you were stubborn, too stubborn to go out the way the rest of the world did” you said, making him chuckle as stray tears ran down your marred cheeks. “I’ve been dreaming of this day…dreaming of the day I’d get to see you and B/N again…” he said, making you grip his duster as the tears flooded down your face even more when he said your baby girl’s name. “Cooper…” you said, making him pull away from you but you weren’t far, he made sure of it. “She…she didn’t make it, honey…I’m so sorry. I tried everything, believe me I did, but it was too late…” you said, making his heart absolutely break in his chest knowing his baby was gone and that he would never have the chance to see her again.
“What was she like? She was so young when it all happened” He asked, holding your hands in his as you two shared in this moment together. You smiled as your hand cupped his cheek softly, your thumb rubbing along his skin that shared the same texture as your own. “Just like her daddy. She had your gorgeous eyes, your beautiful smile and that same stubborn attitude” you said through a laugh, making him chuckle with you as his hand came to hold the back of yours as it touched him. He missed your loving touch, and that beautiful smile that he swore could light up even the darkest rooms. He could hardly believe that you’d still even touch or speak to him now, with the way he looked. He knew you likely held a sympathy for it, knowing all too well yourself what it was like but the fact that you weren’t scared or hateful like others were towards him for it. “She was smart, funny, kind…she was daddy’s baby girl. You’d have loved that about her. It was like a little slice of you was there in her, keeping me going. She gave me hope when it felt like there wasn’t any left in this world to hold onto” you said, seeing a few stray tears stream down his cheeks as you spoke of her. His stomach was in knots, his heart filled with anger and pain to know the wastelands claimed one of his own. “I wish I coulda been there, for both of you. Maybe she’d be here if I was” he said somberly, guilt lacing his tone as he leaned his forehead against yours, not caring if your hats would come off. He needed this, he needed you. “Hey, don’t blame yourself for what happened, you had nothing to do with it. It’s those vile people at Vault-Tec who did this. They took our baby, not you. Don’t you ever think this is your fault” you assured him, holding him close to you as he expressed the most emotion he’s felt in nigh on two centuries.
“We made it pretty good all things considered, held our own well for ten years. I taught her how to use a gun when she turned eight to keep her safe should anything happen to me, did everything in my power to keep her safe, fed and hydrated even on the hard days where supplies were sparse” you explained. “The radiation just became too much for her little body to handle. She was ten years old, I could hardly believe it. It was like I woke up one day and she wasn’t a baby anymore, our little girl had just grown up so fast” you said, remembering those days as tears clouded your vision, streaming down your cheeks like small rivers, watching the droplets fall into the sand beneath you. “I’m sorry Cooper, I’m so sorry…” you apologized, making him hold you tight and hush you as you did. “I shoulda been better…if I was better maybe she’d still be here now” you said, taking the blame for something you knew you had no control over, but it left you guilty all the same. “Shh, don’t go thinkin’ like that. I’d say from the sounds of it, ya did a damn fine job managin’ that long out in this shit hole just the two of you. You always were a great mom, and an equally great wife” he said, making you sniffle as you smiled at him at that reassurance. “I did all I could, there was hell to pay for anyone who stood in my way, that’s for sure” you said, making him chuckle because that was exactly how you were before the war too. You always wanted what was best for your family, and you were willing to go great lengths to keep your husband and child happy. “I know you said you been lookin’ for me for a long time…but I ain’t the same man I was back then” he started. “But I got a feelin’ you ain’t exactly the same woman anymore either, so maybe we can still work this out, you and me” he said, making you chuckle. “No, I’m not. And if that means you don’t love me anymore I-“ you spoke but you were cut off by the feel of his lips against your own. They were thinner now, dry and marred by radiation just like yours were, but you could still feel the passion behind it, the love in it. No amount of radiation could ever take that away. “You lettin’ all the radiation get to that brain of yours? Of course I still love you. I lost ya once, I ain’t losin’ you again, that’s for damn sure” he said, making you laugh as more tears fell, only these ones were happier ones now. You squeezed his hand that was in your own as your heart raced in your chest. “You have no idea how happy that makes me to hear, Coop” you replied, kissing him once more with all the passion two hundred years of separation could hold behind it. “I love you, and I’ve missed you so damn much” you said, pressing your foreheads together once more as you fought the tears that began to turn into a sob. “I love you too darlin’, missed you like crazy. The world ain’t been the same without you” he said, making you sniffle as you felt the same way. “And if you’ll still have me, I’d like to make that a world of the past” he added, making you chuckle tearfully. “Of course I will” you said, allowing his heart to rest assured that you were still his girl, making him smile as he looked down at you, his thumb rubbing along your cheek to wipe away your tears.
You smiled back up at him, your hand coming to the back of his as you remembered the moment from your birthday again all those years ago, slow dancing in the kitchen with him. “What’s that look for, hmm?”You asked, just like you did that day, making him grin as he thought of the right words to say. “Nothin’ just that I’m lucky enough to have married the most beautiful person on this earth” he replied, making you chuckle. It was just what you’d been needing to hear all this time. “And how lucky I am to have her back in my arms where she belongs” he added, making you giggle before kissing you once more. Desert be damned, Cooper had his wife back after so long spent searching for her, and he was going to make damn sure she knew how much he missed her all these years.
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oldhalloweentape · 3 days
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🪨Venture (OW II) x (gn) reader ⛏️
(Love Language Pt. I Edition!)
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(Not my picture!)
(I just keep having ideas, and the insatiable urge to write them down so, enjoy :))
Their love language: Physical Touch, Quality Time, Gift Giving, and Words of Affirmation (Pt. II!)
Physical Touch
- As I mentioned in the previous post (here), they love physical touch, especially with you, it’s just so natural to them.
- While on the job at Overwatch, the PDA is at a low, for obvious reasons.
- Though the second the mission is over, they almost immediately have to urge to wrap their arms around you and give you a big squeeze.
- Loves hand holding, rubs their thumb over the front of your hand and knuckles as they give you the details of the last expedition they did.
- Also likes putting their head on your shoulder, especially on the days you both are in bed and don’t have to do anything.
- Kisses with them are a must of course, with their kisses usually being quick yet affectionate but can be long and soft if the situation requires it.
- Their all-time favorite spots to kiss you in on the forehead, cheek, and lips. But they’d kiss you anywhere if you ask.
- They just love to pepper kisses all your face after an especially long day, their favorite activity actually.
- If they’re feeling a bit sillier than usual or you need some cheering up, they make loud smooching noises when they’re kissing you, usually doing it during cheek kisses.
- In general, Venture is a love bug and just can’t help spreading their affection, can’t get enough of you lol.
Quality Time
- This and physical touch go in tandem with one another, when they can’t touch you, it’s ok!
- They can always settle for being in your presence, being with you is always a positive in their eyes, and you just make things all the better.
- Wants to do so much and experience so much with you, meaning dates consist of mostly outdoor activities.
- Think like camping, hiking, running, and exploring in general, even if you just want to walk around a nearby park they’re all for it!
- They just love nature and they love you, so, the best of both worlds. Also, it’s a way for them to use up all that energy they just naturally exude besides their line of work.
- The camping dates are the nicest, just you, them, nature, and the bear you guys chose over a man.
- Jokes aside, the many moments between the two of you they cherish with all of their heart, remembering the littlest of details.
- You guys could be folding laundry together on a lazy Sunday only for them to break the silence of the room, “Hey, you remember that one time we went camping and you got some melted chocolate and marshmallows stuck in your hair cause you accidentally slept while you were eating?” Queue the slow head turn and side eye they get from you that just sends them into a giggling fit.
- They try their best to capture and memorize every minute, having photos of you and your guy’s escapades framed for everyone to see, or in various handmade scrapbooks filled with stickers of geodes, crystals, etc on every page.
- The little things in life, alongside someone they love as much as they love you is something they revel in, I can’t express enough how they are extremely happy to be with you.
(Will try to get Pt. 2 for Beginning relationship and Love Language out as soon as I can!!)
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minthara · 2 months
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really long personal answer to an anon i got. trigger warnings in the tags.
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First of all i wanna apologise to everyone who follows me for the last few days lmao, but i feel like if i dont post about it im literally gonna kill myself. I need somewhere to write down my thoughts because i feel bad always going to the same 2 friends i still have and complain about the same situation again and again about a dude they dont even know that well.
Thank you so much for ur message really, and sorry if im gonna take it as another excuse to write down all my thoughts, but i think it will really help me.
So the pathetic thing. I didnt ever post about this and in real life i think only like. 3 people knew. But after we broke up i begged him for months to take me back. It really was pathetic. And when he called me pathetic i think he was just very very hurt, because that was the second time i broke up with him (just a few weeks ago). It was in the sense of me begging him for so long just to break up again a few months later. I feel fucking stupid even writing this. I spent about 10k euros trying to get away from him, it fucked up my life so massively that i lost a job i really loved over it.
And now my new job is about 5 minutes away from our old apartment and i think thats a huge reason why i cant get over it. Every day i walk past restaurants, the supermarkets, anything we went to together. I had to buy snacks for work today and just burst into tears in the fucking supermarket because we used to go there together. The people at work are always so appreciative bc i know the area so well but they dont know how much it fucking hurts me and its so stupid like. Should i just avoid that part of town forever??? No fucking get over it bitch like wtf its a fucking supermarket.
And it also hurts because i know i wasnt always perfect and there were many times i was super mean to him. But at a point i couldnt deal with his ADHD anymore and that sounds so shitty but im a super organised person to the point where sometimes i wonder if thers anything ocd related but i dont think so. In my head i swap between i have ocd, i have adhd, i have borderline, i have autism  - i have no idea whats wrong with me, but the way i feel cant be normal. I know this because the way i behave isnt normal, i know i can come across as really strange, i cant judge social situations well and often dont know how to behave. But i constantly criticised him for symptoms of his mental illnesss.
But i never physically hurt him, and that was the last straw for me, why i left. I dont know how u can do that to a person you love.
And im just mourning the life i thought i was going to have so, so, so much. I know on tumblr ppl somehow think youre brainwashed when you want a traditional marriage and kids and stuff, but i really thought that was going to happen in the next 2 / 3 years, thats how i planned my life since i was fucking 21 and i met him. And now im almost 27, and i cant even go on dates because i cannot bear talking to new people because all i want is a clone of him but better.
I know i will look back at this and think “u cried about THAT guy???” in a few years, because thats how its always been in my life lol (except for one relationship, but were still really really best friends). I always think afterwards i will never love someone that much again. But it hits so much harder because it was such a serious relationship lol i really wanted to marry him. Sobs lol.
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rosicheeks · 1 month
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10, 27, 50🥰
10. Do you believe in love at first sight?
Nah. Like you said there’s infatuation at first sight.
27. Has someone ever written a song or poem for you?
Yes 😭 I’ve had a few poems sent to me on here either through anon, DMs or posting one and saying I’m the inspiration behind it.
50. If your first true love knocked on your door with apology and presents, would you accept?
That’s pretty complicated lol
#*maybe* if I let my hopeless romantic self take over I think (hope) there could be a spark at first sight?#where you see someone and you feel drawn to them and you have this weird feeling they’re supposed to be in your life??#who knows maybe it’s just in the fairytales but damn I want a fairytale love one day#but I definitely don’t think there’s a thing like love at first sight#love is much more than just seeing someone… I just feel like that’s a shallow way of looking at it? and I don’t mean to disrespect anyone-#who does believe in love at first sight#I just feel like it takes time to fully love someone#I feel like to love someone means to truly know the person - to take the time to learn them as a person and to learn the good and the bad#and to fall in love with the whole person#I truly still can not believe people have taken the time to write me a poem#I genuinely get a little teary eyed whenever I think about it#I have a notebook (I lost it during the move but I’m sure it’s in one of the boxes) that I keep and write down any poem or sweet message#that I receive and then when I have a bad day I can look back at them#if I don’t find it soon I’m gonna start a new one cause I miss having that pick me up#LOL#that last question#I truly truly don’t even know how to answer that#short and simple answer sure I’d accept the apology but we wouldn’t get back together#a little side note I have a tiny feeling that it wasn’t true love but who knows#anywayyyyyyy thank you so much for the questions!#ngl I fell asleep shortly after I reblogged this and then the rest of the day I forgot about it 🤦🏽‍♀️#but better late than never right? 😂#ask
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0tul1ss · 11 months
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#mannn i literally assumed he ghosted-- why on earth would he text me after so long????#i was fully like 'ok the last msg i sent literally makes me cringe a bit to read but its been months so ig im never opening the convo again#it was simpler before when there felt like there was nothing else to do and easier to move on. i even had a little crush on someone else !#now i have a whole wheel of decisions to choose from#and idek what i truly want from this guy anymore bc even just platonically he kinda fucked it up like. idk#or rather i want a lot of different things and idk what to choose#i want my friend back. i want to never see him again. i want him to know every truth of what ive felt and i want him to know none of it#i want him to miss me or maybe wonder about me sometimes down the line. i want him to not spare me another thought for the rest of his life#i want to reply only 'go fuck yourself' and i want to write him a letter and i want to ghost him better than he ghosted me#i want to tell him i love him and i want to tell him i hate him and i want to say nothing at all#i want the closure i was denied. i want to protect the closure i now have#<-going insane#anyway its soooo stupid like i already grieved for this shit bro. i accepted the end of this years long close friendship#anyway idk why im doing so much processing of this in a vent post nor do i know why i always feel compelled to post these when i do#good thing i keep a small presence on here lol. but yea uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh send post#ok wait i saved this as a draft and went to go look for what i had been tagging vent posts with#[couldnt find one i had been using consistently even tho the whole point is so ppl can blacklist it if they want whoops!!]#and i saw another vent from another time he just kinda disappeared on me#and while this time was a lot worse for a lot of reasons i think its important to say this--#that the last thing that i want is to go back to square one of this stupid awful cycle#vent
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perths · 1 year
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🫠
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pepprs · 2 years
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hi mutuals. ive been gone all day in capstone hell in part bc my advisor is basically making me restructure the entire thing and it’s literally due on saturday. also if i look at a screen for another second my eyes will explode out of my face i think. like screens are so weird and 3d to me rn and it hurts my eyes and is too up close but also im pretty sure i have a lazy eye now so that’s probably why lol. but I have a week of this left at least atp except i can’t possibly ahve a week of this left because i literalt graduate a week from today. i feel like setting everything on fire
#purrs#what is it with me and my teachers / professors changing my entire project at the last minute LOL. throwback to ap art i. senior year of#high school when i was so fucking stressed out and depressed about graduating (hmmm sound familiar 🤔💕) and i had spent literally ALL YEAR do#doing my stupjd breadth and composition. or whatever it was like the names of the 2 stupid categories w head to do and i spent the whole yEA#year doing paintings for my compositon and i didn’t finish them bc i bit off more than i could chew (hmm sound familiar 🤔💕) and got permissi#permission from her to do my last like 3-4 paintings as collages in my sketchbook and then i had to give her mt sketchbook to like physicall#physically handle them and grade them (which was mortifying bc mt sketchbooks are like my diary basically) and after she gave it back she sa#sat me own and told me that she thought i had a better chance of getting a high score if in just used my sketchbook collages + some RANDOM#SKETCHBOOK PAGES that i had just been doing for fun and in my free time. instead of the paintings. thst i had spent all year fucking#murdering myself over. and iwas so angry but i went with it and i only got a 4 LMFAOOOOOOOO like this is just a repeat of that where he’s li#like you have to redo your entire fucking soi and break down everything etc etc and i swear to god i’ll get like a C. and at this point i do#don’t care. i almost broke down crying to him i was trying so hard to hold it together but i was telling him how i am worried about changing#so much of this right now not because I don’t care but because im exhausted and i DESPERATELY want and need to be done bc it’s been like#2 weeks of this at least. and he said nothing to that (in part bc i didn’t even look at him when i said it bc i was too embarrassed and bc i#said something else right after to lighten the mood bc i was too embarrassed) but like. lol still. this all sucks TREMENDOUSLY. i literally#am graduating in one week and it feels like i still have a month left and i have no fucking idea honwim gonna do this bc the stupid paper i#have been trying to write for the last 2 days he basically told me i have to redo in its entirety AND THE THING IS ITS 10 FUCKING PERCENT OF#MY ETIRE GRADE LKKE THIS IS SO STUPID HELPPPPPPPPPPPP help. this is so stupid and my faculty mentors can’t help me and im like ok maybe i ai#will go lie in the street right now. also not counting seeing glimpses of my roommates i haven’t been around another human being in person I#in a week and 2 days and ive only left my room 3#3x in that time span too all to go like take out the trash or some shit. so im absolutely done with everything LOL there is no way this#project is happening and i want to just dump the entire thing unfinished and say please just take it i can’t do it anymore i literally can’t#him: don’t even worry about the time rn. just pretend you have infinite time. me: crying cat meme. LIKE SIR I WOULD LIKE TO BE DONE THIS#VERY INSTANT! HAVE I NOT SUFFERED ENOUGH!!!!!!! HAVE I NOT SUFFERED ENOUGH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! it’s the way i have literally created THREE#fucking collections of literature in the course of doing this project and it still isn’t good enough LOLLL like i appreciate you trying to h#help me do well and give me time etc bu you have to understand i need to be done with undergrad right this second or i will explode
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orcelito · 2 years
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Maybe im not a true goroboy bc I've been in p5 fandom this whole time but only became a goroboy after playing royal
But ykno what that's OK bc im here now
#speculation nation#i just see stuff from b4 royal and im like damng you guys really were here the whole time#to b fair i dont think i was in the mental state to stan a character like him when i was younger#aka i was less. idk. interested in the complexities??#goro's a character i can relate to on an intrinsic level but i dont think i was in the position to actually recognize that#self identification through the other except the Other displays very jarring truths that i was trying to run from#im older now and understand him better. With the help of royal especially.#it does make me a bit sad that i didnt appreciate him as much before. ive been here Basically since p5 was announced#since i was a fan of p3 and p4 beforehand. been sitting here too long lmao#feels like i lost all this time i couldve been appreciating him. but thats okay probably.#im here now and ive been here for uhh. well it was almost 2 years ago now that i started playing royal So#but i didnt get hit with how much royal changed things for me until the boiler room. which i played in uhh sept2020 i think#so 3 more months! will mark the anniversary lok#lol*#i really was planning a whole shukita fic & then completely scrapped the idea after falling down the akeshu rabbit hole in oct 2020#it took 2 months of Dedicated reading and then i started writing my own. and the rest is history 😌#this is just a ramble post but i like thinking about these things sometimes. either way im glad to be here#even if im nowhere near as active a writer as i used to be.... 😔 someday ill return. maybe.
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astrxealis · 1 year
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OH MY FUCKING GOD I AM. very happy. my speech i had to give that i crammed on bcs i was really anxious about even just thinking it and i had to deliver it memorized and in front of the whole class for the first time in years? i only got. minus 1.25
#⋯ ꒰ა starry thoughts ໒꒱ *·˚#i was really anxious uhh even like. now. a whole month after? egeshbgjh like damn what if i get a bunch of mistakes#but nah apparently i did really well !! proud of myself oh my god#i'm much better at speaking than i probably seem often irl. i'm just shy and anxious and need a proper environment#me at home i can talk with an incredibly loud voice for hours. unfortunately lune knows this very well LMFAO#my dad also has a loud voice but sometimes i even speak louder than him. so. yeah. really loud voice#i'm good at speaking aaa idk i keep putting myself down sometimes even if i am confident and i know what i can do!#anyways i also think i am more. less confused on course choices :] i want bs psych fr aaa i want to help people a lot in that regard#i'm going to look up more on it tho! compsci i'm good actually as a 2nd choice. i'm more feeling > thinking but i am a huge thinker lol#hashtag i love math LMFAO i just haven't been putting in as much effort but i do believe in myself! so. yeah#miss ty for the comments LOL i agree a lot. too much unnecessary movements. i always speak like that eee oops#i have my next speech uhh... next tues actually! also really anxious and stressed but less so. i'll just need to work on it asap and prepar#.75 minus for delivery makes sense! uhh .5 minus on content. i think i get it but i'll just keep it in mind as i make my next script#tbh i get so anxious too reciting during class but i have a lot to say usually and the teacher often says exactly the same idea or aka#i'm correct. so. raghhhhh i will recite more !!! almost end of the sy but it's never too late to improve. even if i recite wrong its still#added to my grades. so yeah. anyway uhh !! idk i love speaking a lot actually lol i'll try my best to be diligent productive etc#raghh i will do my best ... i am very smart ive just been slacking a bit since the pandemic bcs constant state of Tired. + anxiety#okay i don't really get the minus on content uhh is it bcs i didn't really have sources LMFAO it was a personal speech anyway but#im good at writing and good at speaking i will just do my best and uh. goodbye. not cramming#I ALSO EXERCISED TODAY. like. yeah. i should exercise a lot daily. also i did finger exercises hashtag guitarist era <3#my fingers and hands are already very flexible lol i'm double-jointed and always played w my hands even now! but i forgor warmups existed#the amount of mistakes i got for my speech really make sense lol i should really prepare more in advance! procrastination is my enemy
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thexsilentxwordsmith · 2 months
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Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader
Author's Note: I had a comment left on my post HERE. The person who commented brought up this scenario of Simon being dared to kiss you and you think that he won't, but he actually does and sparks end up flying. So, of course, I had to write it because... I mean... Come on... (lol). And here it is.
Fandom: Call of Duty
Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader, Soap
Summary: During a game of Truth or Dare, your lieutenant is dared into giving you a kiss, but something about the way he has been acting lately may mean this is going to be more than a quick ordeal. And the way you have been feeling towards him won't be helping.
Word Count: 4k
Part 2: READ HERE
The night has started innocently enough: you and your fellow officers sit around together in the rec, blowing off a little steam after another successful mission. Some nice, simple fun of playing cards and shooting the shit like you usually do when leaving the base to go down to the bar isn’t an option. Everyone happens to be here tonight, including that brooding, mask-faced lieutenant that you can’t seem to keep your mind from drifting to as he stands against the wall behind you. 
Maybe it’s just your imagination, but you’ve noticed that the lieutenant’s presence has become more and more common lately, especially when you’re around. He keeps mostly to himself, staying on the edge of the fun by just watching, yet you swear that if you are stealthy enough from out of the corner of your eye you can catch his gaze lingering in your direction. 
Whether it’s just a trick of your mind or the truth, either way it makes your pulse race. And tonight is no exception.
All has been pretty calm so far, nothing too rowdy or out of hand. At least, it was until now as the night has waned on and inhibitions have fallen. What was once an innocent bit of fun has turned a bit more risque as Soap decides that cards aren’t enough to keep everyone entertained. What game is it he always seems to pick when everyone is more loose? One where the consequences always end up interesting: Truth or Dare.  
Several rounds have passed already where the truths have consistently gotten more honest and the dares even more spicy. No one is ready to call it quits just yet, but there is one person that hasn’t had a turn after all this time and that just won’t do, not if the Scottish sergeant has anything to say about it. Taking matters into his own hands, Soap turns his attention to the big man standing with his arms crossed, watching quietly. 
“Oy, Lt. Come on, you’re already ‘ere. Ya gotta join us,” Johnny says through the raucous laughter to drag the silent lieutenant into the merriment. “Or are ya chicken, hmm?”
As much as you want Lt. Riley to join in, you would rather him stick around and something like this could get him to walk out; you don’t want that to happen. “Fucking can it, Johnny,” you say as you strike him in the bicep with your fist. “You’re talking out of your ass, alright? Knock it off.”
To everyone’s surprise and yours, after a momentary pause, Lt. Riley steps up closer to the table with his arms still crossed. “ ‘s fine,” he dismisses your concern. “But, one round is all you’re gonna fuckin’ get from me, sergeant, so better make it count.”
Johnny nods his head in agreement, actually caught off guard that he is even able to get this far with the ever stoic and cold-shouldered officer. It all seems a bit too easy, but Soap isn’t going to pass up an opportunity like this to get the lieutenant involved. He’s gotta make this good whatever it is that gets chosen and so he pauses a minute to think of an idea for either scenario before speaking up. “Alright Lt, ye know how it goes. Truth or dare?”
Truth is never going to be an option for Lt. Riley, not with the level of secrecy he keeps to at all times when it concerns his life; he knows if he gives Johnny an inch he will take a goddamn mile. So, there is only one other option and though he tries to hide the fidgeting in his hands, he picks it.  
Maybe it’ll be something that’ll help him strike up a conversation with you later. “Dare,” he says. 
The grin that lights up Soap’s face instantly lets the entire table know that he is up to no good and the words that follow are a testament to that fact. You thought you knew Johnny well enough by now, but not even you could have been prepared for what came out of his mouth then. “Alright, I dare ye ta kiss our sassy little sergeant right here,” he says as he looks at you with an unwavering gaze. 
You meet his blue eyes and hold them in stunned silence. Is he fucking serious? As if Lt. Riley would ever go for something so fucking dumb as this. Johnny has to be out of his goddamn mind to put you in this position; it’s like he knows something he shouldn’t. Again your immediate reaction is to sock him in the arm, this time a bit harder to drive home the point that you are done with his bullshit. 
And yet… shockingly… you hear the lieutenant speak up.
“Fine,” Lt. Riley agrees to everyone’s amazement. 
You turn your attention to face him. “Are you sure? Johnny’s just being a dick, you don’t have to listen to him, sir,” you reassure as you shoot a glare that has the Soap nervously shifting in his seat, worrying about what is going to happen to him later for pulling such a ridiculous stunt.
“Said it’s fine,” he repeats, his gruff tone metered. “But I ain’t doin’ it ‘ere though; you’re not gettin’ a free fuckin’ show if that’s what you’re after Mactavish.”
“Alright, alright, I’ll give ya that,” Johnny concedes. Those blue eyes scan the room for a solution. “How about ‘round tha corner there.”
He points to the bend in the wall a few feet away; far enough from the group that they won’t be able to tell what’s happening behind it. Since there are now stipulations that the lieutenant has set, Johnny is going to add his own as well for good measure. “However,” he pipes up, “since it ain’t in front a us here, ya gotta stay in place for 10 minutes. I doubt ye’ll actually do anything, but might as well make ye both have ta awkwardly stand there for a bit. And don’t think yer gonna pull a fast one; I’m gonna be countin’.”
You look back at the lieutenant and he gives a nod. “Fine,” you agree as well. How you are able to keep your voice so steady when you feel that jolt deep in the pit of your stomach is a mystery, but you pull it off just fine.
With the rules set Lt. Riley stares at you as if waiting for you to get up from your seat first before he moves. You do and he immediately follows close behind as you make your way over to the wall just past the corner amidst the sounds of whistles and whoops. With a quick flip of the bird back over your shoulder to the group, you both vanish around the side and come to a stop a few feet from the edge. 
You lean your back up against the wall as he comes to stand in front of you, watching you intensely through the opening in his thin balaclava. As you wait to see who will speak first, you notice a tension in his broad shoulders that hadn’t been there before. This is the first time you both have ever been this close to one another and you can’t overlook the fact that he seems even bigger now that you are standing so near; you can’t help but admire how small you feel next to him.  
The longer he stares at you with those golden eyes, studying your face as if he is deciding something, the more rapid your heartbeat thumps heavy in your chest. He takes a step closer and then another before coming to a stop again. Now there is less than a foot’s distance between your bodies and suddenly there is a shift in the atmosphere around you both, a thick tension that is growing harder to ignore. 
The sounds of laughter filters over to the both of you, breaking you out of the haze of your thoughts. “You know, we don’t have to do anything. If you want me to lie, it’s fine, sir,” you speak before he has a chance to. “Fuck Johnny for putting us in this situation. We can just stand here in silence until we get called back.”
He clears his throat. “Who said anythin’ ‘bout lyin’?” he asks with a raise of his eyebrow that you can make out through the mask. “Just don’t wanna, is that it?” 
Something in the way he says the statement catches you off guard. Why does he sound slightly disappointed? Did he want to actually do this? You couldn’t really believe that; no, you must be reading this all wrong. “No, that’s not…” you stumble over your words; why is it getting harder to speak? “I just… didn’t think you’d want to… but… if you do then…”
“Yes or no?” he cuts off your string of stammering.
“Yes,” you confirm. 
Nothing else needs to be said other than that. His hand moves to his face, his fingers finding the bottom edge of his mask, and now you can’t breathe as you wait to see what’s under there. This is the first time you’ll be able to see more than just his eyes and that leaves your mind reeling.
Okay, you prepare yourself, it’s just a kiss, right? Nothing to it; you’ve been kissed before. This will be no different. Just breathe and we’ll get through it.
The mask is wrenched up above his nose so that his mouth is revealed and spread across waiting for you is a subtle, cocky smirk. Your cheeks flush as your eyes are drawn to the facial hair covering his jaw and outlining his lips; short, light brown outgrowth from not having shaved today. It accentuates his strong jaw perfectly and though you try, you can’t look away.
Still focused on his face you miss the warning as a strong hand suddenly finds its way onto your waist as he moves against you. His broad chest is pressed up to yours, you can feel it through the thinner fabric of his shirt, and you can’t tell whether it’s your own pounding heartbeat or his that you feel. That tension is suffocating now that he is this close, the air so thick it feels like you can cut it with a knife. You wait impatiently for the moment to finally break.  
It feels like you are holding your breath when after a few more seconds he finally speaks. “Good,” he says with a bit of breathiness to his voice, “cause I’m no liar.”
Leaning his head down slowly to reach you his lips inch ever closer until you can feel their warm, ghostly presence brush over your mouth causing your eyes to flutter shut as the ecstasy from the anticipation of them making contact overwhelms you. They are there, right there, and you plead with the universe to finally let them touch. You feel him inhale sharply and with that they are crashing against yours. It is with such an automatic, visceral intensity that it knocks the wind from your lungs.
Simon had been certain until the second your lips made contact that he could keep himself under control, that this was nothing more than sinless fun, but as he breathes in the hot, moist air from your mouth while he captures it again, he already knows that this is not going to end how he has intended. There is an immediate magnetism that you both cannot pull from and what is supposed to be something quick, turns mind-numbing in an instant.
Time stands still as your lips twine together in that familiar back and forth and what can only be a few short seconds extend out into an eternity. It’s like flicking on a switch how easily you melt into his embrace, like acquainted lovers, like your lips have always meant to be pressed tightly together. 
How can this be the first time you have ever kissed?
The stubble covering the exposed half of his face pricks along your cheeks the more he advances; the skin around your lips and your jaw growing more raw each time he moves, but the way it makes your face burn is far from painful. His breathing has become more strained, muscles tensing as he risks nipping carefully at the skin on your lower lip.
You inhale a sharp breath through your teeth and then it happens: an unconscious reaction to the pleasure surging through your veins like liquid fire. You can’t stop yourself as a sneaky moan creeps up your throat and before you can swallow it back down you hum it into his mouth. 
That low, alluring sound leaves that hulking military officer hungry to hear more. Those large hands of his desperately want to paw at your body, to caress all those silky curves against the coarse skin of his palms, to let his fingertips linger at all that delicately soft flesh for as long as he can. A deep, gnawing ache settles itself in his chest as he takes your lips with more feral aggression; Simon has never craved something more in that moment than to keep you like this entangled with him. 
The longer he goes, the more there is nothing tentative about his movements; he kisses you like he owns you. Lt. Riley steals from you as if your lips are air and he will suffocate without them, his desperation is the kind that feels like this is life or death and he needs you to survive. You are unprepared for the fucking bliss of it all, the raw, unbridled passion that his lips create as the friction abrades the tender skin of your mouth. 
And your thoughts scream for him to keep going.
You match his intensity with your own, kissing him back with everything that you have in you. He opens his mouth slightly and without thinking your tongue moves in and presses against his, trying to shove its way into his mouth. Fuck, he is not prepared for you to be so keen and it throws him off for only a moment before he leans into that passion and comes back with his response.
The lieutenant braces one of his large hands near your hip, pinning you to the wall while his mouth engulfs your own as he slides his tongue in between your teeth to fill the cavity full. It slithers over the surface of your tongue towards the back of your mouth, the taste of you intoxicating so that he cannot get enough. The pleasure is so intense that it severs his connection with reality and everything outside of your joined mouths fades away into background noise. His other hand moves from your waist and is suddenly wrapped around the back of your neck, his thumb holding steadily against your jaw to keep your head securely in his grip so that he can pull you as tight against his face as he can stand. 
Your head is reeling from the potency of those hot, feverish lips that are suck yours into their desperate embrace. Then his knee forcefully pries its way between your thighs and you are sure that you will not come back from this. It’s too much to handle and you’ve lost all control… no, that’s not right. You’ve yielded everything completely to him without even having to think about it and he has taken every single ounce of what he has been given as if it has always been his. 
Leaning up into him, you stand up on the balls of your feet as he guides the movement of your head by tilting it from one side to the other in that natural dance that happens when lips play. You are both insatiable as that carnal need to devour the other makes it impossible to not relinquish yourselves to the ecstasy that overwhelms in that moment. 
Never in your life have you wanted a man to possess you more than you want your superior to right now. Images of him picking you up and slamming your back into the wall, making you encircle his waist with your legs, his cock straining and throbbing between your clothed sex as you plead with him to take you, fill your mind until they make you light-headed. 
Lt. Riley is not faring any better and he has to focus his entire will into keeping his hands engaged so that he can resist the tingling in his fingertips to find the button on your pants and undo them. If you were alone without the threat of interruption, you might already be half undressed by now, but just as that urge reaches its peak and his fingers are moving in, you both hear the words that make your hearts sink.
“Eh, you two,” you hear Soap calling out from a distance, “times up.”
It is torture to pull away from you; Simon is on the verge of combusting from being forced to stop before he is ready.  But he has to or else he might be found out and there is still hesitation to admit that he might actually want more of this. Even after the ecstasy you both had just shared he isn’t sure how far he should let this go and so with a sigh of defeat he releases your lips from his own. 
By the time he lets you go and moves out from between your legs, your stance is unsteady and your mind fuzzy. The sudden lack of pressure against your mouth leaves you feeling empty and you have to stop yourself from whining aloud. As your eyes slowly flutter open you look up into his face and are met with that chocolate brown gaze lingering on you. There is something swimming in the depths of his eyes: a question, a statement, you’re not sure, but he doesn’t say it aloud. The need to say something yourself eats at you, but you close your mouth tight and bite your tongue to keep silent. 
You can’t bring yourself to risk admitting that you don’t want him to stop; what if he doesn’t feel the same? The pressures of putting it all out there at this moment is too much to handle. Instead, you let the moment die away quietly as you breathe deeply through your nose.
“Times up,” Lt. Riley repeats the phrase softly as he situates his balaclava back down under his chin to hide himself from you once again. The others are cheering for your return, giving you no time to collect yourself, so you simply sigh and stride back to the group together.
Heads turn your direction as you reappear back into the main room. “Well?” the heavily accented voice of the bastard that has orchestrated this whole thing questions you both. 
Trying not to stumble back to your seat, you play it off as if you hadn’t just had your soul sucked out through your lips. “Well what?” you return as the lieutenant passes you up and takes his place back behind the group.
Soap’s brow furrows. “Don’t play dumb with us, lass,” he chides. “Was he any good?”  
You cautiously take your seat back where you had been as everyone waits for your answer, trying to give yourself more time to calm your pulse that is still racing like wildfire through your tingling limbs. “It was fine,” you say, hoping you are collected enough to pull off such a bold-faced lie. 
“Oh really?” Johnny asks skeptically as he eyes you up and down to read your body language. Your heart leaps in your chest as you think you’ve been found out, that the bloom in your cheeks is still too noticeable, but he continues like nothing. “I think yer full a shit. Probably didn’t even get a peck, knowin’ LT. I bet ye did nothin’ back there, but stand in silence.”
You snicker at him, carefully adjusting yourself in your seat so you can squeeze your legs together to relieve the throbbing in such a way that it doesn’t draw attention. “Aww... Guess that’s only for us to know and for you to spend all your time worrying about, bitch. It’s gonna eat at you, isn’t it? Gonna lose sleep thinking about me and the lieutenant, hmm?” you pick back, which seems to get him off your case. 
“Ye wanna add anythin’ here?” Soap asks as he turns to the mask officer.
You risk a glance over your shoulder back at your superior, knowing that this could undo all your progress at regaining your composure, and you catch him completely lost in thought, not having heard a word that Soap just said. Quickly he recovers, clearing his throat. “What’re ya on about, Mactavish?” he questions back. 
“I asked if ye had anythin’ to add to her account of events,” Johnny chuckles. “Or are ye too stunned ta speak?”
The lieutenant shoots him a glare before pulling his pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. “Don’t push yer fuckin’ luck, yeah?” he answers it like a threat as he flips open the pack and places a cig in between his fingers.
Soap holds up his hands innocently with palms facing out in agreement not to start any trouble. “Ye must a been terrible, lass,” Soap picks as he turns his attention back to you to keep the jovial atmosphere up. 
You slug him hard enough to make his chair squeak from the force before joining in the others laughter to disguise the heat still burning through your cheeks. Simon takes the opportunity to slip out unnoticed, though you let your eyes follow him one last time. It is a monumental task that he has to perform to actively put one foot in front of the other, to calculatedly focus his breathing to stay calm, and make it out of the door without anyone noticing that his composure is clearly broken. 
Once out of sight he hurriedly steps out into the cool night air and immediately rips up his mask as he lights his cigarette, taking a long, heavy drag off it as he leans up against the brick of the building. The nicotine tingles his throat and he hopes it’ll be enough of a distraction to stop the intense pounding in his chest. Breathing the smoke out in a weighty sigh he adjusts the crotch of his pants as they have suddenly become too tight for his comfort. 
“Fuckin’ hell,” he mutters under his breath as he leans his head back against the wall and closes his eyes, desperately trying to focus on anything in a vain attempt to calm himself, but he already knows its no use.
The second his eyes are shut all he can think about is that kiss: he can still feel his arm around you, detect the ghost of your lips against his, sense the warmth of your breath in his mouth. He tries to push the delectable sensations from his mind, but they aren’t going anywhere anytime soon and he knows it. 
Opening his eyes he stands back up off the wall with a need that compels him, making him move strategically so that he can peek through the door without being seen. Sneakily he stares back into the building, those brown eyes catching the sight of you smiling and laughing, those full lips making his blood pressure rise as he watches them move about as you speak, still red and swollen from being claimed. 
This is a problem, a big fucking problem. Now the only thing that that hardened military man can think about, instead of keeping his distance, is how he can recreate that exact scene with you again.
And maybe, just maybe, take it even further.
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saetoru · 9 months
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。what if you’re someone i just want around (i’m falling again)
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synopsis. somewhere along the line, you started to hate suguru—that doesn’t mean you stopped loving him too
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— word count. 9.5k (i am in misery)
— contents. post canon! au — fix it! (we all need a good fix it fic with suguru don't lie), this fic was started before recent manga chapters so the higher ups are still alive—just go with it ok :,), geto survives + lives free of kenjaku, exes to lovers, kind of redemption i suppose, mentions of blood, injuries, and weight loss (geto), mentions of canon character deaths (nanako, mimiko, nanami), mentions of wanting to raise children with geto and have a family, no gendered terms but reader has a personality and actual thoughts and feelings, references to the hunger games (you have movie night lol), BFF satoru (he is babie), there is a kiss y’all !! (scandalous i know :O)
— notes. i started this fic back in march and i had trouble with it and put it on pause for a while. i’m very glad i finished it in the end. i always like fix it! fics and this is self-indulgent and idk if ppl will read it bc it’s sfw but it’s ok if they don’t, i loved writing it. thank you koi for beta-reading this whole bad boy. mwah <333
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the day suguru is declared a free man is actually the day he signs away his freedom for good. 
you say nothing, but you know it’s the truth. satoru fights tooth and nail to plead suguru’s case—you think it’s perhaps a little too desperate for it to be in the best interest of suguru and not himself. but satoru has suffered enough, and admittedly—although you deny it—a small part of you does not want to lose suguru twice. you watch as satoru argues that suguru has already died once—surely he can’t die again? and losing control of his body and mind is paying for his crimes enough, is it not? he argues that there are no ideals left for a man like geto suguru to chase after losing himself to every principle he had left. 
and then satoru wins. 
you expect it, but it doesn’t make it any easier. you watch numbly as suguru is assigned under your watch. you should be happy. you love suguru—you never stopped. but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s not a free man, and now he drags your freedom with his. you’ll never break away from him, never cut through the ropes that tie your hands behind your back and bind you to him—and then you wonder for a moment, unsure if it’s selfish or selfless or some cruel in-between to think this way, if geto suguru was better off dead. 
whether that’s for your sake, or his, you’re not sure. 
and yes, he’s let off alive, and sure, there’s no real punishment for all he’s done, but you know deep down he’s as chained and shackled as he’s ever been. he’s not allowed to leave the house unless you or satoru are there to chaperone, and it’s never to be anywhere near non-sorcerers. he’s not to live in a place of his own until the higher up’s deem him trustworthy. he has to ask you to buy the things he wants from the grocery store. he can’t even step outside for a smoke unless you’re aware. 
for a long time, he doesn’t speak much—can hardly muster a barely audible mornin’ back when you force a smile and greet him cheerily for breakfast. slowly, it turns into half-snarky conversations that get cut short by one of you leaving the room. finally, you’re civil—maybe even friendly. you’re not so sure where you stand with him as of now.
it’s not the same suguru you remember falling in love with, it’s not even close to the version of the man you fell for all those years ago. it’s hard having him here—some days you’re angry and want to throw him out, to scream at him for haunting you again just when you think you’ve moved on from the horrors of your past. some days you want to cry and cling to him, bury your face into his neck and thank him for being here again, for finding his way back to you. and some days you wish you never met him at all, that this would all be easier if it didn’t exist in the first place. 
he’s not the same geto suguru you loved, but somehow, because life is as bitter as it is ruthless, you fall in love with this version just as hard no matter how much you deny it. 
“i made your favorite,” you smile gently, placing a neat plate of french toast with freshly cut strawberries on the side. you even take great care to get the syrup-to-powdered sugar ratio he likes right, but he doesn’t make a move to reach for the plate. instead, suguru sits at the table stiffly, like he has to be here or there are consequences for that too. it almost makes you sad—even here, he’s not free. 
“thanks,” he says quietly, “but i’m not hungry.”
“you said that last night, suguru,” you sigh, “and at lunch. and at breakfast. and at dinner the night before—”
“i’ll eat it later,” he cuts you off, playing with the ends of his hair. 
it’s a lot shorter now. it’s you who finds his body battered and bruised after the smoke clears. he’s almost unrecognizable, not the same charming and perfect suguru you’re used to seeing. not the same silkened strands and smooth skin, not the same muscled and toned body, not the same chiseled jaw and soft cheeks. instead, he’s a shell of himself. his hair is matted in knots, his body is almost frail, and you notice the sunken hollows of his cheeks and dark undereyes as you lift him from the rubble a little too easily. but his body is his own—that much you can tell from the way the stitches have disappeared. 
it takes shoko a long time to nurse him back to health—it takes even longer for him to open his eyes.
you waited day and night by his side, hand over his as he breathed slowly, unconscious and unsuspecting. it would be so easy, you think one night, it would be so easy to kill him and forget and move on. 
you’ve already grieved him once before. you’ve felt and conquered the pain of loving geto suguru and losing him first to himself and then to death. but love is as selfish as it is selfless, and it’s under your mercy that you let him live—yet it’s under your cowardice that you keep him close. 
“you have to gain back the weight you lost, suguru,” you sigh, “you’re w—”
“weak?” he finishes for you, eyeing you for a second and then grinning. it’s unsettling, a grin that makes your skin crawl and your heart stop for a moment before he’s reaching for the fork and stabbing into his toast. “is that what you wanted to say? that i’m weak?”
“suguru, you know that’s not how i meant—”
“you’re not wrong,” he hums, chewing on the first bite as he speaks, “i suppose i am pretty weak right now, huh? couldn’t even kill you in your sleep if i tried could i?”
your throat is dry as you shrug, “i suppose not,” you whisper. 
“ah,” he grins again, “but that doesn’t stop you from locking your door every night, does it?” 
suguru is still healing. his body is weak, and sometimes, he leans against the wall as he walks. his arm is healed—you’re not entirely sure how, but you catch him rolling the shoulder out every now and then like it’s sore and stiff. he’s lost a lot of weight—part of it is from being bedridden for as long as he was, injured and half alive, and part of it is from barely eating—save for the few bites you force into him. you never thought there’d be a day when you could say this—but the odds of you beating suguru in hand-to-hand combat are high, and the reality is an everlasting reminder that he is not who you fell for. 
you swallow, letting out a shaky breath as he watches you closely, diligently cutting another bite from the french toast sitting on his plate as he stares you down like he can see past your soul. you don’t know what’s scarier—that suguru can still practically see yours, or that you’re unsure he even has one anymore. 
“you tried coming in?” you ask, unsure what else to say. he merely shrugs, takes another bite, and sets his fork down. 
“thought i’d check on you,” he pops a strawberry half into his mouth as he speaks.
“is that what it really was?” you raise a brow, “or was i right to lock the door?”
you’re not sure why you lock the door at night. maybe it’s because you don’t trust him, or maybe it’s because you don’t want him near you just yet. you’re not sure. you’re not sure how satoru can go back to his cheery self, how he can step through your door and boom a loud yo, suguru! before settling beside suguru on the couch with his feet on the coffee table as he rambles away. maybe it’s not real—maybe it’s satoru desperately pretending that if he tries hard enough, things can go back to how they were. 
but you don’t know how he still has the energy to try, and you don’t know if you have it in you to try anymore yourself. 
you and suguru stare each other down like that for a bit, the tension rising with every silent second that passes. you’re sure he doesn’t want to be here as much as you don’t want him around—but you’re also sure he’s glad it’s here with you as much as you’re glad it’s with no one else.
“you tell me,” he smirks after a bit, the hint of amusement making your fists clench. how dare he have the audacity to look at you like that in your own home? like he has the upper hand over you without trying? “what do you think i was there for?”
“i think you should stay in your room, suguru,” you say carefully, “i bought a new bed just for that room.”
“how sweet of you,” he hums. he sips the tea before him—it’s cold by now, but it’s just how he likes it, rose with one sugar. “you must have been excited to have me.”
“hardly,” you mumble bitterly—you can’t help it. you want him to feel hurt, even just a little. you want him to know that just because he’s back, it doesn’t mean you’ve waited all this time for him to be. liar, a part of you says, you’ve always waited for him, haven’t you? but suguru doesn’t seem phased—he doesn’t even blink.
“then tell me, why am i here?” suguru asks, his tone is as casual as ever. 
i wish i knew, you want to say. i wish i knew but i don’t.
“because satoru asked you to be,” is all you can say.
he nods, pushing back his plate and standing up, offering you that same grin. “you’re right,” he hums, “that’s exactly why i’m here.”
it hits you why his smile is so unsettling once he leaves—it’s almost genuine, like he’s still loved you all this time. impossible, you tell yourself. suguru stopped loving you a long time ago. and you need to stop trying to figure out why. 
————————————————
even despite telling yourself you don’t care what suguru thinks, a small part of you needs to prove to him you’re not scared of him. that you don’t fear for your own safety in your home, and that him being here is not some form of him haunting you. you don’t care. he shouldn’t get the luxury of thinking you care. he can come in and watch you sleep like the creep he is if he wants—you couldn’t bother to give it a second thought. 
the first night you take a chance and leave the door unlocked, suguru slips into bed beside you. it wakes you up instantly, and before you can question it, his head tucks into your neck, and his hand grasps your shirt tightly. you notice the panting almost instantly—and then you realize, it must be a nightmare. 
you fall into old habits, even after all these years, defaulting to care for him like it’s second nature. 
“you’re safe, suguru,” is what you settle for saying after a moment of contemplation. it’s all you can really think to say, so you brush your lips over the top of his head as you murmur, “you’re safe,” over and over again. 
as difficult as it is to have suguru around, as painful and cruel and aggravating as it is to be reminded of his distant existence even as he’s two doors down, this part feels natural. it’s almost like you’re back in jujutsu high, waking up to him sneaking into your room as he presses his weight over your body and wakes you with soft kisses along your face. 
except this time, he’s not annoyingly demanding cuddles or telling you about his weird dream, he’s not stealing your blanket and demanding you play with his hair. this time, it’s not the same suguru—and this time, it’s not jujutsu high. 
it’s your room. the one you got on the other side of town to leave the sorcery world behind, somehow still stuck right in the center of it no matter where you go. and yet, just like all those years ago, your legs tangle, and your arms wrap him up, and you murmur, “you’re safe,” while he catches his breath. 
“but they’re not,” he mutters in between labored pants, making you pause. 
and then you remember. 
faintly, you recall the blonde and black hair from a distance, you remember bitterly wondering what’d it be like watching suguru fathering children of your own as you came to the reality that it would never happen. sometimes, you wonder if you hate nanako and mimiko for existing, for living as the dreams you never got to live through with suguru. 
it’s selfish—to hate two children because they are what you do not have. 
but then you feel something wet hit your neck, and then you wish they were okay—for his sake. and just for a moment, you’re selfless again. 
“they’re not safe,” he mutters, making you sigh. 
“they are,” you whisper, hesitating for a moment before letting your fingers slip into his hair. you scratch gently at his scalp, feeling his body melt into yours almost instantly—like it’s a response that’s natural to him. “they’re not suffering. not anymore.”
“is that supposed to make me feel better?” he scoffs. you shrug, letting your cheek press against the top of his head as you sigh.
“it helps me feel better,” you say softly, “‘s just how you learn to cope.”
it’s an understanding you both silently come to. loss on both sides. bloodshed on either ground. defeat no matter which ideal you take. to love is to bear the pain of mortality—it’s a lesson that you never cease to learn until the ends of time itself. 
“the jujutsu world is one of suffering,” he grits, sniffling into your neck. you hum, pressing a kiss to his head as your eyes close. 
“every world is one of suffering, suguru, you can’t erase them all. the sooner you realize that, the easier you’ll find peace.”
you fall into a slumber after that, faintly aware of the way he shuffles closer to you, faintly aware of the soft kiss pressed to your skin as sleep takes over your body and drifts you out of consciousness. 
when you wake up the next morning, suguru is gone, and the door is closed. the blanket is tucked up to your chin, and your neck still tingles from last night. 
————————————————
“get up,” you throw a pillow at suguru, waking him up with a start as he sits up. his hair is tousled and messy from sleep—it’s now long enough that he can put it in a bun without strands slipping from the bottom anymore. you chuckle as he glares at you, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he groans. 
“the fuck was that for?” he grunts, holding the blanket up to cover his exposed chest. 
it’s funny that he does that, in a way. it’s not as though you haven’t seen his chest…and then some too. it’s not like you haven’t torn his shirt off to stanch the flow of blood from his injuries before or feel the bare skin with your palm under the pale moonlight as the lingering scent of sex breezes through the room. 
but somehow, even though he doesn’t need to cover his chest around you of all people, you’re glad that he does. truthfully, it keeps you slightly comforted to know that he’s aware you’re still technically strangers—no matter how well-versed you are in each other’s pasts. but you don’t ponder on it too much. instead, you grin, shoving aside the visual of the small glance you caught at his pecs, and you clap your hands to motion him to hurry. 
“we are going grocery shopping,” you say casually—as though it’s not something to make him raise a brow in shock.
“me?” he points a finger at himself. you roll your eyes, and he challenges you with another raise of his brow. “aren’t i supposed to stay away from civilians?”
“yes, you,” you nod, pointing back at him, “and satoru has worked overtime to get you granted permission to roam around with me. he says you’re welcome, by the way.”
“tell him to go fuck off.”
“that’s ungrateful,” you say flatly, “his feelings will be hurt.”
“his feelings will find a way to cope,” suguru huffs. “i don’t want to be around…them,” he says bitterly. 
you suppose it’s wishful thinking to hope suguru has let go of his past beliefs. perhaps he’s long abandoned the possibility of the vision he once planned on bringing to life, but you can’t say you expected him to revert back to the old suguru who fought alongside you and satoru. you yourself certainly have no intention of returning to the sorcery world after all the events, so you can’t say you’re shocked by the lack of change he seems to show. but then again, you suppose suguru has changed. whether he sees it or not. 
he stays here and doesn’t put up a fight to leave even though he can now that he’s healed. he eats lunch when you tell him and even washes the dishes. sometimes, when you come home a bit late, dinner is even ready on the table as he sits and stares at you expectantly. his plate is empty like yours—like he’s been waiting for you even though he doesn’t need to. you suppose you can see he’s changed in the way he doesn’t scoff at the tv channels you surf through, he silently sits on the opposite end of the couch now and watches with you, and perhaps if you’re lucky, you’ll hear a light chuckle or a quiet sigh as the scenes roll on the screen. 
you suppose this suguru is a step closer to your suguru every day he spends with you, but you don’t know if any suguru is what you need right now. perhaps that name should’ve been buried away as a distant memory, perhaps it should’ve only been something you unlock once every year on his death anniversary—when satoru clambers through your door drunk and unsteady as he clutches the hand that killed his best friend, only to share pancakes with you in the morning and pretend like you don’t notice the dried tears on his cheeks while he acts like he doesn’t catch the way your hand shakes as you cut into your breakfast. 
but suguru is here now. whether it’s as geto, one half of the strongest duo in jujutsu high, whether it’s as suguru, the love of your life and the sole reason you exist, or whether it’s as geto suguru, the curse user and mass murderer who haunts your past, present, and everything in between. 
so you simply sigh, grab the pillow again, and hit the top of his head before walking over to the door as you call over your shoulder, “i’m gonna wait for you by the door in fifteen minutes. be ready or face the consequences..”
“no thanks. don’t wanna,” suguru grumbles petulantly, frowning at you as you stick your tongue at him, smirking as if you’ve just played your ace. 
“too bad,” you sing before swinging the door shut.
he’s at the door in exactly fifteen minutes, like he waited until the last possible second to join you as a move of spite. but you simply gesture him out the door and lock up, taking your sweet time as he stands there with an annoyed face. you stare at the doorknob once you’re done, taking a deep breath before turning to him with your best smile. 
“let’s go,” you hum.
“after you,” he mutters.
he grimaces as soon as he sees the people going about their business, clearly unhappy with the idea of being around non-sorcerers, but one sharp glare from you has him sighing and trekking along. the grocery store, admittedly, is not as bad as suguru thinks—in fact, there are lots of things he doesn’t realize he misses until he watches you grab a shopping cart. 
suddenly, he sees shadows. the silhouette of your figure climbing into the cart, the angry wave of satoru’s hands as he claims it's his turn to be pushed around, the figure of shoko pinching the bridge of her nose in irritation from the back—and then, he sees the dark shadow of baggy pants and a small bun. it’s him. suguru watches himself almost in slow motion through the remnants of his imagination as he gently shoves satoru out of the way and reaches to poke the tip of your nose before he pushes the cart with you in it.  
it’s a happy memory—and it’s gone all too soon.
as soon as he blinks, the shadows have disappeared—instead, it’s you waving a hand in his face, concern written on your features as you call his name. 
“suguru? hey, hello? are you with me?”
he exhales, pulled from his trance as he gently grabs your wrist from in front of his face and sets it down as he nods, “yeah, i’m fine. just thinking,” he mumbles. 
for a second, you hesitate, like you almost mean to say something. but in the end, you only nod before turning to grab the shopping cart. but he stops you—grabs the handle and turns to you with a small smile on his face, making you raise a brow as he gently moves you away. 
“what are you—”
“get in,” he grins, making you stare at him in bewilderment. 
“what?”
“just get in,” he sighs, “you love it when you get to sit in the cart.”
“i’m not a teenager anymore—”
“get in, will you?” he groans, “always so damn difficult.”
“hey,” you pout, glaring at him with your hands planted at your hips, “that’s rude.” it’s cute. suguru stares at you with amusement in his eyes and a soft look on his face that you don’t think you’ve really seen in years. 
“humor me,” he hums, “just get in, okay?”
so you do. 
with a huff and a grumble under your breath, you fight back a smile and climb into the damn cart just like old times. you swallow and try not to let it get to you when he reaches over and pokes the tip of your nose and pushes the cart around, letting you name off the things you need from your list while he grabs them. and when he sneaks snacks into the pile, you roll your eyes and glare at him in the way you always did—the one that isn’t actually annoyed. fond. happy to let it slide because it’s him.
“we need candy,” you murmur, “that’s the last thing on the list.”
“okay. what kind?” he asks, turning the cart into the candy aisle and smiling softly down at you.
“doesn’t matter, satoru eats anything as long as it’s sweet. he’s more likely to die from sugar than fighting a curse, i think.”
“you buy candy for satoru?” he asks, making you shrug as you reach over and grab a few bags of candy off the shelves, setting them down beside you. 
“he comes over a lot so i learned to keep stuff stocked up for him. you know how he gets when he’s hungry.”
suguru feels something he hasn’t felt since he was a teenager. jealousy—specifically of satoru. 
suguru is not foolish. he knows as soon as he meets gojo satoru that of the two, one of them is stronger and it’s definitely not himself. for the longest time, he’s okay with that, okay being the strongest only when alongside satoru—until he’s not. and even if suguru always had a bit more attention in the romance department than satoru, in his head he’s always known that perhaps satoru can keep you safer, more well off, maybe even happier. with smooth smiles and eyes as welcoming as an oasis, gojo satoru would never leave you in the dark pit of misery as suguru once had. 
something about the thought of you and satoru keeping each other company through the lonely years, filling that empty spot suguru left behind, sharing moments over candy and empty wrappers makes suguru wonder for a moment if perhaps he’d be happier if he stayed. maybe he could have worn a heartfelt smile in a world that carves them off the faces of sorcerers with bloody knives as long as you were there to wipe the blood.  
but before he can dwell on it, you snatch one more bag—this time of his favorite candy, placing it into the cart and grinning gently up at him. 
“i haven’t bought this one in years,” you admit, “i almost forget how it tastes.”
“me too,” he says quietly.
“well,” you hum, “we’ll have to have some when we’re home.”
home. you say it as though it belongs to him as much as it does you, and then like you always have, without even meaning to, you wash away the dark stains of his jealousy with no trace left behind.
“yeah,” he chuckles, “we—”
“daddy, look! candy!” suguru is cut off by the gentle pitter-patter of two tiny feet running into the aisle, pointing at a bag of candy as a man follows close behind. 
his breath hitches. 
she’s small, the girl—she has two pigtails with soft strands of blonde hair falling out of the loosely tied bands. it reminds suguru of the first time he perfected tying up nanako’s hair, the soft giggles behind her tiny hand as she twirled in the mirror. 
there’s another girl in the man’s arms—dark hair on her head as she curls into her father’s chest and tucks her head into his neck when she sees you and suguru in the aisle. she’s shy, he realizes, like mimiko, and suddenly he remembers the tiny fingers that used to hook into his pants when she got too overwhelmed by the people around her, waiting for suguru to scoop her into his arms. 
perhaps in another life, suguru would redo everything differently—he’d be happy with you and satoru and shoko, and nanami and haibara would be there too, well and alive. but no matter what, he’d never redo nanako and mimiko differently. he’d never change a thing about them, not even the way nanako whines too much about small things or the way mimiko never speaks up even when something is clearly bothering her. he’d never change the way he saved them and took them in at the tender age of eighteen, too lost to be a father but choosing to raise them anyway. he’d never change the feeling of pure joy and unbridled pride when they climbed into his bed for the first time, shushing each other so as not to wake him—even though he’d awoken as soon as the door to his room opened. 
because he realized that night that yeah, maybe he’d made mistakes in his lifetime, lots of them too. maybe he’d made a bad choice choosing the path he did, or maybe he didn’t. he’s never been completely sure—just that he had to try at least to make his vision for a different world come to life. but one mistake he never made was his girls. one thing he was always sure about was the soft clutch at his pants and the tiny hands reaching for his own.
suguru wouldn’t change anything about nanako and mimiko—except maybe the fact that they aren’t here, gone because of him. 
“suguru?” you ask softly, reaching for his hand as he grips the cart tightly and pulling his gaze away from the family in the distance. 
he blinks, meets your eyes, and knows that you know. with one glance at your face, he knows you understand. the world is cruel, one filled with suffering, he thinks. but then he remembers what you said, that every world is full of suffering, not just his—that it’s a truth he has to come face to face with.
but it’s hard. it’s hard when this man has his two little girls and suguru does not—it’s hard to watch someone have what he wants with no worries of losing it, all because of people and their own weaknesses. he thinks for a moment that he’s been right all along—that non-sorcerers are too weak for this life, that the jujutsu world has always suffered so they don’t have to. 
but then the man speaks up, catching both of your attention. 
“your mother used to love those,” he says quietly to his daughter, a pained smile on his face. instantly, you and suguru both seem to understand the weight of that single sentence. 
every world has its own pain, suguru realizes. its own cruelties and unfairness, its own way of bringing suffering in its wake as it rips away the things closest to you from your begging fingertips, leaving them cold and empty and numb from the lost weight underneath them. 
“let’s go, suguru,” you whisper, “we have everything we came for.”
“yeah,” he whispers back, clearing his throat so his voice doesn’t crack, “let’s go.”
suguru leaves the grocery store with you after you pay, and for a brief moment, he’s unsure. unsure whether he’s grateful to satoru for fighting for him to be able to come and grateful to you for dragging him along, or if he wishes he died along with the rubble, gone before you could find him and turn him into this.
“before you even think about hiding away in your room,” you say, grabbing the bags from the cart as you put it back where it belongs, “you have to help with putting away the groceries.”
“sure,” he says smoothly. he grabs all the heavy bags from your hand, and you make a move to protest that you don’t need him to take the heavier ones, that you’re fine and can handle them like you’ve always handled them. 
but he walks off, and finally, you decide to simply follow.
————————————————
satoru likes to come and visit—you’ve started a routine movie night every week (unless he’s away, of course.) it’s fun, but it also means he makes your veins pop because he’s a headache like that—always makes himself right at home and eats your snacks like this is his place and not yours. he helps himself to your already limited candy and puts his sock-clad feet up on the coffee table no matter how many times you tell him not to. 
you try sitting with legs as long as these, he always whines, earning a harsh glare from you as you smack at his shins until he ultimately caves and begrudgingly sets his feet down. 
but then they always make their way back up to the coffee table, and you’re too busy enjoying his company to care—although you’ll never admit it. 
satoru is endearing like that, swallowing the dark clouds from your shoulders whole and eating up your burdens with that side of responsibility that you don’t think you could ever stomach. satoru is just like that, you realize, taking the brunt of the weight and laughing off every concern until you can’t help but not take them seriously yourself. 
it’s hard to remember that sometimes you didn’t just lose suguru, the love of your life, that night. everyone lost something. shoko lost someone to smoke with, yaga lost a student to scold, nanami lost a headache to avoid, and satoru?
well…satoru lost what you think might’ve been the only filled void of his miserably empty life. 
it’s hard to remember that satoru lost his best friend—the only best friend he’s ever had (although you like to think of yourself as a close contender)—because he’s so good at letting you forget. he brings you ice cream (that he eats half of because it’s only fair he gets a share), and he sits and hogs your couch (that he argues you don’t really need as much space as him on because your legs aren’t as long), and he watches those stupid sitcoms that are dry with boring jokes (that you used to make suguru watch back in the day).
it’s hard to remember that satoru also lost as much as you because he’s so damn good at making you forget about your own loss, you don’t care to think about anyone else’s for a while. just a short while. just until he’s yawning that obnoxiously loud yawn and stretching those awkwardly long limbs of his before he claims he really should go and that being the world’s best teacher requires as many hours of beauty sleep as you can squeeze in. 
and then he’s off. and it’s empty again. and just like that, you’re reminded of why he was there in the first place—to fill in that sick and painful void that geto suguru left in you. 
it’s gaping, like he tore a chunk of you right out with sharp teeth, like you’re just a piece of meat for him to get his fill of. if suguru really loved you, would you be so easy to let go of? why couldn’t he smile? because you could—god, you could smile just from the sight of him alone, you realize a long time ago. him with his cigarette tucked between his lips, those death sticks as you called them, hung loosely from his mouth as he gives you a lopsided grin. 
geto suguru is enough of a reason to smile. the world could crumble at your feet and leave you with nothing but rubble and dirt, and still, suguru is the core of the earth you’re searching for. 
so why couldn’t you be the same? what is it you were missing? what about you was just not enough for him like the way he was enough for you? 
it dawns on you one night, through bitter tears and shaky sobs, and that sick, twisted, pleading feeling in your gut that begs the wind to carry him back to you—geto suguru has never loved you the way you loved him.
and for that, you can never forgive him, you don’t think.
“you tryin’ to go bug-eyed?” he asks, settling down on the couch next to you, making you snap out of your trance. you shake your head a little, stare back at him for a moment before putting on that look on your face where you roll your eyes and pretend everything is fine.
“no,” you huff, “i’m just thinking.”
“about…?”
“satoru has rarely ever missed a movie night.”
“maybe he’s sick of you,” he shrugs, grinning slyly at you as you narrow your eyes with a glare, “there’s someone here to keep you company now so he’s probably taken his opportunity to run.”
“you’re hardly company,” you scoff, “freeloader.”
“hey,” he defends, shrugging as if it’s not his fault. you suppose it’s not. “i didn’t ask to be rescued. you can’t be high and mighty and petty. ‘s not how that works.”
“says who? you don’t make the rules. i can be graciously kind and a jerk all at once.”
“complexity,” he nods, “i like it.”
“i’m not as complicated as you might think,” you grumble, crossing your arms as you stare at the time. yeah, satoru isn’t making it—which, he told you as much, but he’s strolled in at the last second too many times to count before. you figure today would be the same. “as long as you don’t skip movie nights with me, i’m pretty simple to keep appeased.”
“alright,” he props his feet up on the coffee table—seriously, what is it with asshole men putting their feet on your table? satoru is a terrible influence. “let’s have a movie night.”
“what?” you blink.
“movie night,” he repeats, “you said you don’t like skipping movie night—”
“well, i meant i don’t like satoru skipping movie—”
“well, it was me before satoru, wasn’t it?” he says with a smile. his eyes are closed, crinkled at the corners, but his voice is carefully neutral—like he takes extra care not to let you see any emotion behind it. 
but that only means there is an emotion, isn’t there? is he jealous? does he hate the fact that you and satoru have a routine of your own without him? that you don’t need him to continue living your life? 
good. he should be. he walked out on you all those years ago. he killed a village. killed his parents. you never even got to meet them—he never even got to take you home and introduce you to them before he ripped away every fantasy you ever had with him. 
and now he’s back—he has the audacity to live, to laugh in your face with his existence that yes, geto suguru is here. and he was supposed to be executed, but your stubborn friend didn’t let that happen. he was supposed to be your husband by now with kids and a happy little home, and you were supposed to be his parent’s new addition to their family that they loved so much. but none of that is even close to happening, and it’s suguru’s fault, and the least he can do is show you some regret and maybe feel just the slightest bit bad that you now have to watch shitty movies with his best friend instead of him to feel normal. 
ex-best friend? half best friend? you don’t even know—do they still consider each other their best friends? does anyone consider suguru anything? you don’t know what you consider him. but you think the least he can do is act just the slightest bit pathetic after making you feel so pathetic for so long just to even the score. 
he should be a stranger. he feels like an old friend. but either is dangerous. 
“alright,” you sigh, “let's bring back movie night. don’t fall asleep.”
“i get plenty of sleep nowadays,” he hums, “i have more than enough free time for that now.”
“how lucky of you,” you snort. 
picking a movie with suguru is difficult. he actually has standards—satoru watches anything so long as he gets snacks, and he can make anything fun to watch with the way he comments from the side like a critic. suguru, on the other hand, actually cares about the quality of a movie, the metrics that make it good. 
so you pick the hunger games just to piss him off. 
“seriously?” he raises a brow, “this is your pick?”
“yes,” you grin, “i like these movies.”
“of all movies—”
“my house, my rules,” you grin cheekily, “you can pick the movies as soon as you start paying the bills.”
“wow,” he deadpans, “stooping to use my financial status against me? i thought you were better than this.”
“oh suguru,” you sigh dramatically, grabbing a bag of chips from the table, “you don’t know me at all.”
all things considered, you think it’s a rather enjoyable experience. it’s not as fun without satoru’s stupid comments that you pretend to hate, but suguru provides his own commentary that earns a giggle out of you here and there too—although his are not meant to be funny. but that’s the appeal of it, you think. 
“she should have picked gale,” he mumbles. you raise a brow.
“peeta was always there for her, did you miss the rain scene?”
“so was gale,” he says smoothly, grabbing a chip from your bag and making you scowl.
“gale killed her sister,” you point out, “and a lot of other people too. he was ruthless. she needed peeta.”
“gale did what he had to do,” suguru mumbles. 
suddenly, it doesn’t really feel like you’re discussing the movie anymore. it feels more than that. it feels sickening—the air is heavy, and your throat is dry and god, you just wanted a movie night and not this heaviness as you talk about stuff from the past without actually talking about it. 
you blink before turning to your chips, playing around with the bag as you shrug. 
“in the end he didn’t get katniss, did he?”
suguru studies you for a moment, stares a little too deep into you that you start to feel the urge to bolt to your room and go to bed. 
“guess not,” he says quietly, “guess that’s the one regret he has, huh?”
you think for a second, as suguru stares at your eyes with something you can’t quite read, that you might cry. you might cry and throw that half-empty can of soda in his face for speaking in codes and making you question what he means and remember your past. you might cry because suguru could’ve always gotten you—in fact, he had you.
it’s not fair. nothing is, but you can’t help but dwell on it.
“i’m going to bed. it’s late,” you mumble after a few moments, standing. he only nods, staring at the tv as the credits roll. when you make it to your room and the door shuts behind you, you debate clicking the lock in place. 
in the end, you don’t lock the door. suguru climbs into bed with you once more later that night, shaking slightly from his nightmare but calmer than usual. he’s still gone by the time morning comes, and you still never mention it.
it hits you one night that maybe he still has you—maybe you never let him stop having you, no matter what you say.
————————————————
suguru is good at cleaning while you’re away. you have to go out and do adult things like breadwinning and grocery shopping and bill paying. he dusts and cleans and even takes out the trash when you’re home to monitor him as he steps two feet out of your front door. sometimes, because you like to get on his nerves, you accidentally mess up a corner of the house just as he cleans it, laughing as he shoots you an unimpressed look. 
“stop getting crumbs on the floor,” he mumbles, “i just vacuumed.”
“you make a good malewife,” you giggle, “vacuuming and everything. how cute.”
“don’t call me that,” he grumbles, sitting down on the couch. 
“but you missed a spot,” you point to the crumbs you’ve sprinkled from your fingers as you snack away, making him glare. “failwife.”
“i’m going to divorce you and take everything,” he snaps, making you snort as you put your hands up in surrender.
“you don’t have to, you know,” you murmur, “clean, i mean. i can handle it.”
“i think i should carry my weight around here,” he shrugs, “since you are basically sugar babying me around for now.”
“dangerous curse user to the world, but sugar baby to me,” you tease, pulling a chuckle out of him as he rolls his eyes. 
sometimes it’s nice to have his company. suguru is good with banter like that, he’s not annoying like satoru where you run in circles. suguru makes you laugh from your belly, makes the hiccups catch in your throat as you double over. he’s always been like that, always known how to make laughter pour from your lips and trickle down your chin. it’s comforting to know he still knows how. it leaves a small amount of bitterness that he’s still able to make you feel like this. 
“by the way, next time you go shopping, take me with you,” he says casually, “i need to buy stuff for my hair. it’s growing.”
“you’ll finally see the sun just for your hair?” you gasp, “who knew that’s all it’d take?”
despite the playfulness in your words, there’s still shock. suguru is willingly stepping foot outside your house. he’s finally choosing to return to life after living like a recluse no matter how many times you and satoru have tried to beg him to get up and go somewhere. the most you can get out of him is a walk around the neighborhood before he goes back to wandering your home and hiding away in his room. 
suguru is returning to life, his life, and you can’t help but wonder where that leaves room for you.
“my hair is my charm,” he reasons, “wouldn’t you agree?”
there’s a smirk on his lips when he asks—it’s like he’s seventeen and teasing you again, giving you that unfairly flirty smile that used to make you stutter as a kid. back when you were hopelessly in love. back when it was you, suguru, and the world in your corner. back when you had dreams of your future, practically giggling as you planned it away in a notebook. 
suguru was always perfect like that, the kind of guy you could only dream about. he’s always been handsome—he’s always been the center of attention everywhere you went. you used to huff about it, about all the attention he managed to get from walking into a room alone. but then he’d smile, give you that tender look of his as he’d chuckle, and you’d be hopeless again. 
he shouldn’t have that effect on you anymore after over a decade. but he does. it’s cruel, the way the universe works. it’s like there’s a magnet that pushes you together no matter how far you try to go, still pulled by gravity straight into his awaiting eyes and devilish smile.
“i cut your hair off once, i can do it again,” you huff. he laughs, it’s good-natured and kind. 
“i was a bit heartbroken when i realized it was so short, i have to admit,” he says, “i didn’t look like me.”
“you looked good,” you say quietly, “i think you’d make anything work, to be honest.”
“yeah?” he grins, “any requests? i might consider it if it’s you.”
“oh shut up,” you roll your eyes, “how about shaving your head bald? let's see how much charm you have without all that hair.”
“i could charm you without the hair still, couldn’t i?” he winks. 
it’s unfair how he acts like normal. like a few months in your home undoes everything he’s ever committed, all the atrocities he’s caused. the way he flirts with you feels like you’re his again. the way he’s aged and changed feels like you’re meeting someone new. you don’t understand how suguru is so natural with that—with seamlessly falling back into a rhythm with you like nothing has changed at all.
deep down, you know that suguru is just moving on with his life. he’s making the most of what he can. he can’t die, satoru would never let him have a peaceful death after all this. he can’t go back to the way things used to be, whether that’s his sorcery days or his curse user days, and he certainly can’t start over. so he’s making do with what he has—which is very little in reality.
it’s you, your home, and the biweekly visits from satoru and occasionally shoko. so he weaves you seamlessly into his life and treats you with a sense of normalcy you can’t hope to treat him with. maybe it’s because suguru was actually able to move on after he left. 
it’s the part you hated him most for. for building a family with new people. for having two girls that he raised as daughters. for finding people to follow him and trust. suguru, after he walked away from everything he ever knew, actually did something with his life—even if it could hardly be considered good. 
you? you fell deeper and deeper into a pit of denial until clawing your way back out was too impossible, until you had to leave behind everything you’ve ever known to get away from the remnants of his existence. 
it’s easy for him to weave you back into his life because he chose to cut you loose. it feels damn near impossible to let him weave back into yours after he tore himself from the edges and frayed away. 
“don’t do that,” you sigh, making him frown.
“do what?”
“you know what, suguru,” you pinch your nose in frustration, “stop acting like things are normal.”
“things are definitely not normal,” he snorts bitterly, “i think needing your approval to take the trash out is not equal to normal.”
“then why are you acting like…” you trail off, unsure.
“like what?” he raises a brow. 
“like we never changed,” you slam your hands down on the couch in exasperation. 
he stares at you for a minute, blinks once, then twice, and then furrows his brows.
“well, of course we changed,” he mumbles in confusion, “i know that—”
you shouldn’t have said anything. you quickly realize that. suguru is not trying to act like things are normal—he’s trying to be civil, and you’re just a fool. a fool who looks too deeply into everything and assumes what you want to out of things and god, you’ve embarrassed yourself in front of your one and only ex-boyfriend in over a decade who was once dead and somehow came back to the land of the living.
of course, he knows things are not the same. he doesn’t want what you think he does. it’s been years and suguru has moved on—he had already moved on all those years ago, and you’re the only one here that is still focused on the past. and now he knows it too. 
you stand before he can finish, nodding as you stare down instead of meeting his eyes, pretending to adjust your clothes. 
“right, of course you do,” you nod, “i don’t know why i said that. just ignore me, i’ll be going to my room now. i have…things to do, so i’ll be—”
“hang on,” he frowns, hand grabbing your wrist, “i don’t mean it like that,” he says gently.
fuck geto suguru for being so confusing and fuck him for being nice about it too. 
“you can let go, suguru,” you pull at your wrist, “forget what i said, i wasn’t thinking—”
“i still feel the same,” he cuts you off, making your eyes widen, “if that’s what you mean. i never stopped.”
never stopped—that’s almost worse than moving on. how could he have felt the same all those years and still never come back?
“that does not help even a little,” you swallow the lump in your throat. “that makes this so much worse, do you see that?”
“i know,” he sighs, “i’m sor—”
“don’t say you’re sorry,” you grit your teeth, “we both know you’re not.”
“maybe not,” he admits, “i had to try. and that meant leaving—i’m sorry that’s not what you wanted.”
“it’s not!” you turn around, pulling your arm out of his grasp—suguru, for what it’s worth, takes the shove to his chest like a champ. “of course i didn’t want you to leave and kill a bunch of people and have an execution stamped on your forehead and live your life without me.”
“i know—”
“and now you’re back. back! in my house, eating my food and sleeping in my bed for half the night and i just have to act like this is normal. how is any of this normal?” 
“it’s not,” he agrees. he’s calm. so calm, it almost makes you mad. why is he so calm? “nothing about anything in our lives is normal. it never was.”
“you ruined my life,” you blink back tears. he smiles sadly, taking a step closer.
“i guess i can take the blame for that,” he nods, hands finding their way to your hips. against your better judgment, you lean half your weight against his body. this is bad, very bad—but it’s also the best thing ever. 
being close to suguru feels like the sun’s heat tearing through your skin—it’s warm. it’s pleasant. it leaves you parched and drained with a dry throat. but still, you need it to survive. 
“why did you come back?” you ask tiredly. his hand finds the small of your back, rubbing slow circles.
“i don’t know,” he hums, “i didn’t really get a say. maybe i was always meant to, who knows?”
you look at him at that—tilt your head to get a good look at his features. his eyes are more tired, and his cheeks are a bit more sunken in compared to the youthful flesh you remember him with. his hair isn’t as healthy, and his forehead has the slightest traces of pale marks from the scars. but he’s still suguru—and you have always loved suguru, even if he gives you every reason to hate him.
“you make my life unreasonably difficult,” you mutter.
he hums, smiling. “can i?” he asks breathlessly, pleadingly. you stare at his eyes, he stares at your lips. you know what he wants—but fuck, you can’t let him have it so easy. 
“can you what?” you ask, raising a brow slowly.
“are you really gonna make me say it?” he grunts, lips almost curled into a pout. it’s cute, the way he looks longingly at your lips—it’s so cute and beautiful and dangerous all at once, just like suguru. 
“yes,” you say, “yes i am. i deserve to hear it suguru, after everything you put me through. you…you left me. i wasn’t enough for you. i mourned you. i grieved a body i never even saw. do you know what that does to a person? to lose them not once but two times? the least you could do is tell me what you want,” your voice wavers just a little. 
it shakes for the lost time. for the moments you’ll never have. for the memories you lost. for the past that’s tainted. time is cruel like that. but that’s the beauty of it all—the fragility. it’s like sand falling through the cracks of your fingers, every grain slipping from your reach but still soft and soothing against your skin as it falls. everything fades over time, everything starts to hurt one way or another. but it stops. it heals. it starts over. the sand fills the cup of your palms again, warm and delicate and just as beautiful as before it crumbled. 
“can i kiss you?” he asks desperately, “please?”
“kissing me is not a temporary thing,” you shake your head, “not anymore. it’s for good. only for good.”
“i want to kiss you for good,” he nods, hands digging into your hips impatiently. you’re close. you’re too far. he can feel you, smell you, hear your unsteady breaths. but it’s not enough. he needs to devour you, taste you on his tongue, and melt you with his touch. “i won’t stop this time,” he promises. 
“you better not,” you sniffle, tears blurring your vision. you hated suguru for leaving you. you hated him for coming back to you like this. you never stopped loving him, never will stop loving him—and maybe that’s what love is. when the darkness is worth trekking through for the afterglow of the light. “if you fucking leave me again, you’re dead to me. i don’t care how many times you come back to life. you’re dead to me.”
“okay,” he agrees through a shaky chuckle, “i suppose i deserve that. let me kiss you, yeah?”
“yeah,” you breathe.
he kisses you—years too late, he kisses you. it feels like you’re teenagers again. it feels different and foreign. you know this feeling like the back of your hand. you don’t understand what this sensation is anymore. it’s new. it’s old. it’s perfect. it hurts. suguru is here. he promised not to leave—you don’t know if you believe him, but you’re going to trust that finally, for once, you are enough. 
you’re enough to make him happy. to give him a sense of purpose. to keep him swimming when his limbs start to sink. 
finally, for once, you’re enough. 
“i love you,” he whispers against your mouth, breathing the words into you like he’s offering you the air from his lungs, “i never stopped. i promise.”
“you don’t deserve to hear it from me,” you murmur back, panting against his lips, “not yet.”
“fair enough,” he chuckles, “you sure know how to leave a guy waiting.”
“i learned from the best,” you shoot back.
he grins—suguru smiles, heartfelt and real. life is full of misery, it’s painful, and nothing fucking makes sense. everything is cruel. everything dies no matter how carefully you water the roots. there’s always something, someone, ready to tear it from the earth. but if you keep planting the seeds, suguru will keep watering. 
maybe something kind can bloom from that, something big enough for him to hide under the shade when the scorching heat of tragedy becomes too much. 
in this world or in the jujutsu world; in this life or in the next. suguru is yours.
“why am i here?” he asks gently, his face digging into your neck. you hold him, cradling the back of his head as you hum. 
“because i need you here. will you stay?”
“yes,” he murmurs, “i think i’ll stay.”
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hi. i have been working on this since march. its still not how i envisioned it to be originally but that's okay. i had fun writing it and it means a lot to me even tho its kind of. well....cliche LMAO like everything i write. but. i enjoy the cliches okay ?? i do. kxljchskdf hope u guys didn't hate it </3
also the fic banner is …. not the greatest. just ignore it ok
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nereidprinc3ss · 2 months
Text
light of the morning
in which spencer sneaks into bau!reader's hotel room and they share a little more than just the bed
18+ (smut) warnings/tags: softdom!spence x sub reader, munch!spence, unprotected piv sex (dont do that), creampie (hate that word btw) praise, mentions of having to be quiet because morgan is right next door LOL, fluffy, established co-workers/friends with benefits, soooo idiots in love a/n: here is the promised smut. i am literally kicking my feet and twirling my hair and giggling and blushing at my own writing. I'm gonna have a freak out. requests are open like my legs
It’s late when the knock finally comes. Late enough that you’re dozing on the bed above the covers. 
It takes you a moment to reorient yourself—you’re rubbing your heavy eyes when you finally get the door. 
"Hi."
"Hey," says Spencer, hands awkwardly shoved into his pajama pants pockets. It’s funny, really. He never gets any better at this. 
You step aside and he enters the room, looking around as you close and relock the door. 
"Did I wake you?"
"How could you tell?"
"You’re in pajamas. And you look tired. I mean—you don’t look bad. You never look bad, I just meant… you don’t look tired but you’re not—I didn’t mean to—"
"Relax," you yawn, putting him out of his misery. "I was joking. I know I look tired." You glance at the digital clock on the nightstand. "It’s late. We have to be up early tomorrow."
"Yeah, I got, uh, sidetracked. Sorry."
He was reading. If it was anyone else, you'd be offended--but a sinkhole could open up under Spencer's feet and he probably wouldn't notice if he was absorbed in a book.
You shrug, a knowing smile lifting the corner of your mouth. 
"It’s fine. But I don’t know if tonight is a good night. I really am exhausted."
His eyebrows dart up. 
"That’s fine. That’s totally fine. I’ll just, uh—"
When you don’t move from in front of the door, he pauses, unsure. You bite the inside of your cheek, studying his rangy frame and choice of clothing. Blue pajama pants, slippers, grey CalTech zip up hoodie. It feels wrong to describe a 6'1 man as adorable, but that’s how he looks in his sleep clothes. There’s a very real chance, you find yourself thinking, that you are the only member of the BAU to ever see him in something other than slacks and a button-down. He looks so cozy that you kind of really want him in your bed even if he’s not doing anything but sleeping. The invitation slips out before you can think too hard about it. 
"You could… stay, anyway, if you want?"
His mouth parts slightly, and those eyebrows raise again. There’s a moment of awkward silence and you are very much beginning to regret your offer, wondering if you somehow violated the sanctity of your co-workers/friends with benefits situtationship. Clumsily you try to backtrack. 
"Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, you can—"
"No, no! You didn’t, I just don’t want you to feel obligated to invite me to stay in your room. I’m right across the hall, I can go back if you want me to."
You smile awkwardly, silent relief replacing the brief anxiety. 
"It’s fine. It’s not like we haven’t shared a bed before." And not like you wouldn’t have ended up doing it tonight anyway, if things had gone as originally intended.
He chuckles, looking to the floor and nodding. The blush on his face does not go unnoticed by you. "Fair enough."
It’s incredibly endearing how nervous he still gets after six months of this little arrangement. 
"Do you wanna get your stuff, or…"
"No, that’s okay. I’ll just go back early tomorrow. The chances of someone seeing me leave your room are significantly higher if I do it so soon after entering."
You squint, unable to tell if he’s fucking with you or if that’s an actual statistically sound probability. And then you realize, blissfully, that you don’t really care. 
"Okay, well. Make yourself comfortable. I’m just going to brush my teeth."
Once you’re enclosed in the bathroom, hotel vanity lights blinding you as you brush, you find that there is a jittery sort of apprehension buzzing in your chest. But that’s silly. As you yourself pointed out, the two of you have shared a bed many times over the past few months. But the sleeping together is always a byproduct of the sleeping together. Never have you shared a bed in a completely decent, virtuous, strictly non-sexual manner. It’s always been a matter of convenience—less bother if he doesn’t have to worry about sneaking back into his room in the middle of the night when you’re both exhausted. Or maybe that’s just what you’ve been telling yourselves. 
You rinse your mouth out and exit the bathroom, flicking off the light and finding that Spencer has indeed made himself comfortable. The hotel room is dark and he’s already under the covers, fiddling with his phone. 
"What time should I set the alarm for?" He asks, looking over at you as you crawl into bed, drawing the covers over yourself. "I was thinking 6:23. That should give me enough time to—"
"Sounds perfect," you affirm, wiggling under the blanket as you get comfortable. He schedules the alarm and sets his phone on the bedside table, dousing the room in complete darkness. Your eyes stay open despite, waiting for them to adjust. A few moments of utter silence and stillness pass, and you can tell Spencer is completely stiff next to you. 
"Spencer."
“Yeah,” he answers immediately. Like he’s even more wired about this whole situation than you are. 
"You know you don’t have to avoid touching me at all costs, right? I’m not a leper."
He looses a nervous laugh. 
"I know. We’ve just never really done this."
You frown at the darkness.
"We’ve definitely slept in the same bed before."
"Yeah, but… this feels different."
That, you can’t argue with. Can friends with benefits share a bed just to be near each other? Does that blur some line? And why does it feel more intimate than the sex? 
Screw it. If there is one thing you don’t want your relationship with Spencer to be, it is uncomfortable. Uncertain, you can work with. But not uncomfortable. You reach for him, hand sliding under the duvet—and find his hand already waiting for yours. 
"I don’t think it’s that different," you lie, interlacing your fingers together slowly. 
"Prolonged physical non-sexual contact does have measurable health benefits…" the words are murmured, like the moment is fragile and he doesn’t want to shatter it. 
"Can’t argue with the facts," you breathe, trying to modulate the shakiness of your voice. But you have a feeling you’re doing about as good of a job at concealing your nerves as he is. He shifts.
"Can I…"
"Yeah."
Your heart is pounding as he slips one arm under your neck and the other around your waist, pulling you close. Instinctually you curl into him, slinging your top leg over him as you’ve done before, but always dismissed as post-sex brain chemicals making you feel all warm and fuzzy. A neurological reaction that is so solidly scientific, neither of you ever questioned it. But it feels bigger now. 
He exhales as you settle against each other—a sound of relief that mirrors your own. He’s so warm, so safe as he envelops you, physically and sensorially. In such close proximity, so clear-headed, you notice each layer of his scent. Toothpaste, lavender, vetiver, detergent. You sort of feel like a creep, but you can’t deny how comforting it is. Nor can you deny the pirouette your heart does when he begins minutely rubbing your back, like he’s not even thinking about it. 
"Goodnight," you whisper into his shirt. 
"Goodnight," he whispers back. 
You fall asleep pretty quickly after that. 
------------------------------
It’s unclear what wakes you up—maybe it’s the blue-grey dawn light filtering in through the filthy window (doubtful, it’s still mostly dark) or maybe it’s the blinking green digital clock on the nightstand. 5:02 AM. Your alarm will go off in an hour and 21 minutes.
Sometime in the night you shifted, turning over in your sleep, but Spencer is still holding you close. The arm slung so casually over your waist is slightly domineering, but you manage to rotate again and face him once more. Mere inches away from his face you can see every detail. His expression is so peaceful, it makes your heart ache. 
But you’re just friends. 
Perhaps he felt you moving, because his eyes flutter open and you watch as they flood with consciousness. He takes you in, takes in his arm over your waist. For a split second you’re nervous he’ll pull away. 
"What time is it?" His voice is scratchy with sleep. 
"Five."
"Why are you awake? We have over an hour til the alarm goes off."
"Sometimes waking up early is okay."
His eyes flicker between your own, and momentarily you’re paralyzed as you realize this is a limbo state for the two of you in which you’ve never operated. You don’t know what’s acceptable. You don’t know what to do. Being close to him feels so good, that the idea of separating hurts. But you don’t want to make him uncomfortable, or—
He leans forward and kisses you softly. In the blue light of dawn, rather than frenzied and hidden in the dark, a desperate tear of clothes and teeth and hands—it’s almost freeing. All the anxiety you were feeling just seconds ago begins to melt. 
Friends. 
"You looked anxious," is his whispered answer after he pulls away a moment later, like a kiss is the simplest remedy in the world. He brushes a lock of hair behind your ear. "We should go back to sleep."
"I don’t want to go back to sleep."
The corner of his mouth twitches as he studies you.  
"No? What do you want?"
Emboldened by your mutual indiscretion, it’s your turn to kiss him. You feel him smile against your lips, hand finding the back of your neck and raking up through your hair to pull you closer. 
The delirium of sleep seems to have softened you, filed down the rough edges of your boundaries and kicked away the lines in the sand. What’s a kiss or two when you’ve just woken up? A small, innocuous display of affection while you’re still barely conscious. Nobody could fault either of you for that. People don’t think clearly when they’ve just been asleep.
So what if your lips part against his, and his other hand finds its way under your shirt to stroke the bare skin of your waist and hips? So what if you hitch that leg over him again and press closer?
Spencer breaks the kiss, still ghosting over your lips. 
"I thought it wasn’t a good night?"
"It’s not night time anymore, is it, genius?"
You sneak another kiss, nipping his bottom lip gently as you pull away. 
Instead of whatever array of responses you were expecting, Spencer smiles slightly, eyes almost sparkling in the faint light. The hand on your hip moves to your face, gently thumbing across your cheek. He begins to say something, and stops himself—biting his lip to hold back the words. 
"What?" you ask, heart dropping. Illusion fracturing. 
"I was just—" he begins, pausing for a moment before the words all come out in a rush. "I was just going to tell you how beautiful you are, but I don’t know if that’s something I should say, or if it would feel too… I don’t know…"
He trails off. A rare instance in which he doesn’t have the words. 
You do. Intimate. Real. Romantic. And he’s right, it does feel too much like all of those things. But that doesn’t mean you don’t like it, perhaps more than is strictly good for you. 
"It’s fine. Thank you."
He continues chewing on his lip for a moment. 
"Did I just ruin the mood?"
"No," you laugh, "not at all."
"Thank god," he sighs, surging forward again. 
"Since when do you thank god?" You manage between kisses. 
He moves to press his lips to your jaw and down your neck. 
"Do you want me to talk about the historical and cultural transition of religious expressions into ubiquitous secular colloquialisms right now?"
"Kind of," you breathe.
"No you don’t," he murmurs against your neck as his hands find the hem of your shirt. "You want me to take your clothes off."
Well, he’s not wrong there. 
You help him tug the shirt over your head before leaning back into the pillows as he situates himself over you and lavishes more kisses down your neck and collarbones, pausing to suck a mark only when he knows it’s low enough to be covered by your clothing later. 
You gasp when his lips brush over your nipple, before running his tongue over the sensitive skin. He glances up at you, and though his mouth is occupied, you can see the humor in his eyes. He loves how sensitive you are—how easy it is to get a reaction out of you. 
Of course, you continue to prove him right when he takes the other into his mouth, trying to hold back your little whimpers as he darts his tongue over the peak. Maybe somebody else wouldn’t hear them, but Spencer does. He’s hyper attuned to the sounds you make. Something of a catalogue has begun to form in the back of his mind; he knows exactly what each noise means and how to get them out of you. 
Once satisfied, he moves to press a kiss to your sternum. 
"You’re gonna be quiet for me, right?" Another kiss above your bellybutton. "Because Morgan is sleeping right on the other side of that wall, and we don’t want to wake him up."
"I’ll be quiet," you promise, somewhat breathlessly. Spencer’s mouth trails lower until he’s pulling your shorts down your legs, leaving you completely naked. He tosses them somewhere on the floor and hooks your legs over his shoulders. 
"Good." He plants one last kiss to your thigh and the next one lands right between your legs. 
You regret the need to be silent almost as soon as he drags his tongue over your clit. It’s not like the two of you have ever had the privilege of making a lot of noise, as the hotel rooms are always so close to each other, but it doesn’t make it any easier. 
Instead you opt to rake your hands through his hair and try to take deep breaths. But he knows exactly what you like—he knows starting light and slow, teasing around your most sensitive spot will work you up to the brink of insanity, just like he knows gentle circles make your back arch and elicit the prettiest little moans. 
"More," you beg, and the hands wrapped around your thighs rub soothingly, reassuring you that if you can just be patient you’ll get what you want. 
He takes your aching clit into his mouth, sucking lightly and you’re forced to clap a hand over your mouth, muffling the sob of pleasure you can’t hold back. Spencer keeps it up until you’re practically riding his face, teasing your dripping entrance with the tip of his tongue when you get too close. 
"Fuck, please, Spence," you whisper through your fingers, hips rutting in your desperation. Somehow it always ends up like this—with him in charge and you begging. Not that you have a problem with it, of course. 
He hums into you, and if the way his tongue moves back to circling your clit with newfound fervor is any indication, is apparently satisfied with your entreaty. 
You gasp and try to control your breathy moans, but his mouth feels so good on you that your vision is going out and you’re losing touch with reality ever so slightly. You use the last of your brain power to bite down on the back of your wrist, hoping it adequately muffles the noises you make as you come on Spencer’s tongue and he greedily continues lapping at you. There’s really no way of knowing—your ears are ringing anyway. 
When you come to a moment later he’s peppering kisses on your thighs, rubbing your hips gently. 
"So pretty," he murmurs, climbing back up so your lips can meet again. "Everything about you is pretty."
You paw at his shirt, signaling that you want it off as you moan at the taste of yourself on his tongue, feel your slippery arousal staining the kiss. Spencer helps you, sitting up briefly to unzip his hoodie and pull off his shirt. 
You’re the one to drag him back down, and you notice that he pulls the covers back over the both of you in a sweet gesture he probably didn’t even think about. 
"Need you to fuck me," you beg, reaching down to try and undress him further. 
"So crude. What happened to my nice, sweet girl?" He mumbles against your neck, but helps you with his pants anyway. 
"You must have me confused with someone else."
"Doubtful."
You don’t have much time to consider what that could mean before he’s running the head of his cock over your clit and you’re gasping into his mouth, saying please like it’s the only word you know. 
"There she is," Spencer croons, slipping inside you slow enough for you to feel every inch but quick enough for it to expel all the air from your lungs. Once he’s opened you all the way up, impossibly deep and close, you’re seeing stars, barely breathing. His head has dropped to your shoulder but now he drags his lips up your neck and jaw. "We okay?"
It’s been a while, you realize, since that last case in Maine. He always takes some getting used to. Hardly able to think around the pressure of his cock you nod, trying to string together a few words. 
"Fuck, I need a second." The words come out choked, but you manage. Spencer rubs your hip, his lips brushing yours as he speaks. 
"Relax, sweetheart. I don’t want to hurt you."
He curses to himself, dropping his head momentarily. You’re so fucking soft, and warm, and perfect, he can’t think straight. But he has to try because he has to take care of you. 
"Spence," you gasp, failing to verbally communicate the intensity of the physical sensation. 
"I know, baby," comes his sympathetic coo. "You know you can take me. Deep breaths."
"Mhm," you squeak, trying to take follow his directions and soften your muscles. Spencer keeps rubbing soothingly over your hips, stomach, whatever he can get his hands on, really, pressing kisses all over your face and telling you how good you are, how perfect you feel for him. After a few moments he feels you fluttering around him and experimentally pulls out halfway, before pushing back in equally as slowly. Your jaw drops as he begins to leisurely fuck you, arms wrapping around his back. He gets deeper than you expect every time, rubbing you raw and stretching you out in the most delicious way. 
"Perfect, baby. Such a good listener, did exactly what I asked."
You cry out when he begins fucking you impossibly deeper, but still so slow and sweet.
"You feel so fucking good for me," he groans. "This is what you were made for, huh?" You agree enthusiastically, eyes fluttering shut. 
"Only for you."
Just three words—but he wasn’t expecting to like hearing you say that as much as he does. A strong desire to possess you overtakes him—one that he’ll probably have the decency to feel guilty about later, but for now feels fucking fantastic and intoxicating. 
"Only me?"
You moan an affirmation. 
"Good. I don’t want anyone else fucking you, do you understand me?"
"Yes!"
"I’m the only one who gets to touch you," he breathes, speeding up ever so slightly, "nobody else is going to feel you like this. Such a good girl, spreading her legs for me at five in the fucking morning. You’re not doing this for anybody else, baby."
"Uh-uh, please, pleasepleaseplease Spence—"
He knows what you need, reaching a hand down between your bodies to rub your clit. 
You gasp an airy, high pitched curse, hips twitching but unable to escape the near-punishing rhythm of his own. It’s obvious that your orgasm is close, but you can’t even warn him, too overwhelmed with pleasure. He kisses you, swallowing your moans that have probably become just a bit too loud given the whole hotel thing. 
No words are exchanged between the two of you as you near the finish line for a change, open mouths slipping against each others in what is too messy to be called a kiss. Your orgasm body-slams you, a choked silent scream as you tighten around Spencer and he seems to come at nearly the exact same moment—deep inside you, slowly rolling his hips in a few more strong thrusts as he finishes. 
You let out a delayed moan at the sensation of being filled up, still pulsing around him as he comes to a halt, buried inside of you. He drops his head to your neck, and you can feel each breath against your flushed skin. Other than the panting, you’re both silent for a while. Spencer seems to gather himself sooner than you do, finally breaking the quiet. 
"You okay?"
All you can manage is a little squeak, at which he looses a breathy chuckle. His hand slides to your hip, gently stroking the skin with a thumb. 
"Need your words, angel girl."
"I’m okay," you coo into his shoulder, but he has to strain to hear it above his own breathing. 
"Yeah? Why so quiet?"
But it seems that at least for the moment, he’s gotten all the words he can out of you. When he tries to move, you whimper indignantly, clutching onto him tighter. 
"I really did a number on you this time, huh?" He laughs when you nod into him. "Are you falling asleep?"
"Mhm," you hum dreamily, little puffs of warm air slowing against his neck. 
"You can have…" he cranes his head to check the digital clock, "48 minutes."
"An hour."
He settles his weight on you once more, pressing a chaste kiss to your throat. His voice is low and gentle as he admonishes you. 
"I said 48 minutes."
But it doesn’t matter—you’re already asleep, or close enough to it. Spencer takes the opportunity to shift you to your side, and the way you wrap around him like a vine even unconsciously makes his heart ache. He really should go now—the earlier he gets out of your room the less likely certain complications will arise—but how can he possibly leave you like this? A vulnerable, dreamy girl with tangled hair haloing around her on the pillow case, clinging to him with blind trust that he’ll watch over her as she sleeps? No—there’s no way he’s leaving yet. Instead, he brings you closer. 48 perfect minutes will go by far too quickly, he’s sure. 
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atlabeth · 3 months
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a rose and her thorns | luke castellan
pairing: luke castellan x fem!daughter of aphrodite reader
summary: luke vies for a valentine. you're just trying to get through cabin inspections.
a/n: take this as my formal apology for the angst i’ve been throwing at you all with demeter girl lol and take this tooth rotting fluff. this was supposed to be shorter but i got carried away, after writing that 11k angst riddled monster this was a much needed palate cleanser lmao
wc: 3.3k
warning(s): no warnings this is all fluff <3
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You huffed as you knocked on the door again, chewing on the inside of your lip as you waited for a response. The Hermes cabin usually always had kids in it—either they were ignoring you, or they were just causing too much ruckus to even hear it in the first place.
Honestly, you should have known this was how cabin inspections with Luke would go. He was probably in there right now, ushering all of them through rapid last-minute tidying in the hopes of something higher than a one. You had half a mind to knock a point off right now by virtue of tardiness.  
The hairs on the back of your neck stood up all of a sudden, and you whirled around. 
“Speak of the devil,” you said wryly. 
You were greeted with Luke Castellan himself, his hands up with a slight smile on his lips. “Easy. I didn’t think I looked that bad.” 
Your brows creased ever so slightly, and he gestured with head. You looked down and realized you were holding your pen like a sword. You cleared your throat and let your arm drop, adjusting your shirt on the way down. 
“Sorry. People tend not to sneak up on me.” 
“I can’t imagine why.” Luke put his hands down and started towards his cabin, craning his head back at you. “What brings you here on this fine day, Rose?” 
“Don’t tell me you forgot,” you pouted, holding up your clipboard and pen as you followed him. “We’re on inspection duty together. Where were you?” 
He snapped and pointed at you. “That’s what we were doing together today! I knew we were spending time together—not like I could forget that—but,” his hand paused on the doorknob, “I kind of forgot about the cabin inspection part. Had to spend a little extra time with one of your siblings at the end of sword-fighting lessons.” 
“Sounds like Liz is getting better, then.” A smug smile pulled at your lips as you stopped next to him. “And it sounds like someone’s gonna be cleaning the dishes tonight,” you said in a sing-song voice. 
You placed your hand over his and opened the door, and Luke groaned. “Take mercy, Rose. Please.” 
It was certainly a sight—more akin to a tornado than the inside of a cabin. Various kids—Hermes, unclaimed, and minor gods alike—ran around, shoving dirty clothes beneath beds, cramming duffles and suitcases into overflowing closets, with a few noble exceptions attempting the Sisyphean task of actually cleaning. 
“Wow,” you said, glancing down at the papyrus scroll. “Can I give you a zero?” 
“Listen,” Luke said from behind you, “our thing isn’t tidiness. It’s thievery—swiftness, cunning, panache.” 
“I thought you were supposed to be jacks of all trades,” you mused as you checked off boxes. “Cleaning is a trade.” 
“Not here.” You could feel him peering over your shoulder and he groaned yet again. “Come on! You’re grading us way too low. I get input too, remember?” 
“Sure,” you remarked. You held out the clipboard and gestured with your head at the natural disaster in front of you. “But you can’t tell me this is anything better than a two.” 
“A two’s better than a one.” Luke plucked the pen out of your hand and scrawled out a number two on the final line. 
“Luke—” you started in protest, but he just snatched the clipboard as well with a wink as he started walking backwards towards the door. 
“We’ve got a chance, guys!” he called out. “Hephaestus has gotta be worse than this!” 
You huffed as you chased after him, shutting the door on your way, and you crossed your arms as you came to a stop in front of him. “This isn’t very cooperative of you.” 
“Gotta give myself a chance,” Luke said, smiling as he took the Hermes sheet off the clipboard and stuffed it into his pocket. 
“That’s just cheating,” you said, and he let you take the clipboard back from him. You started walking, and he fell into pace with you. “Hephaestus is next—we’ll see how much of a chance you have.” 
“We should get some slack because we’ve got double the campers,” Luke said. “Nine’s got no excuse—they’re just a bunch of messy engineers.” 
You tapped your pen against the board. “I’m not changing my mind, Castellan.” 
“Ouch,” he winced. “I got last name’d.” 
You merely smiled and shook your head. You could see his own smile in your peripherals, then he huffed.  
“You’re distracting me from my whole plan with these ridiculous grades,” Luke sighed. “I haven’t ruined everything, have I?”
“You’ve got a plan?” you asked in amusement. 
“Of course I do.” Luke took a few long strides to get in front of you then turned around so he was walking backwards, that stupid smirk still on his lips as he kept eye contact with you. “Valentine’s Day is coming up.” 
“You’re very observant,” you said. “Watch your six.” 
Luke moved a step towards you to avoid a younger camper with their head buried in a book, and you chuckled as he shrugged. 
“It’s a work in progress,” he admitted. 
You hummed, biting back your smile as you came up to the Hephaestus cabin. You were about to knock on the door, but once again, Luke caught your wrist. 
“You’re not even gonna let me say my piece?” he asked. 
“I’ll give you a little time to polish it up,” you said. 
“You assume I don’t have it prepared already?” 
“Oh, I’m sure you do.” You winked. “But I know the effect I have on you.” 
Luke’s fingers loosened on your wrist and you allowed a small, self-satisfied smile as you pulled free and knocked on the door. It took a couple seconds, but eventually the door opened and their counselor—Alya, if you remembered correctly—greeted you with a smile. 
“Just in time,” she said, smudging the bit of grease on her face as she wiped at her cheek. “We’re actually not horrible today.” 
Luke grumbled beneath his breath as you walked in together—usually, the place was a mess of loose parts and hastily sketched out plans and smoke-scented clothes. Today, it was still a mess, but slightly less so. 
“Damn it,” Luke muttered. “Still not as bad as us.” 
“Stop comparing your place to everyone else,” you said. “This is supposed to be fun.” 
“Cabin inspections are fun?” he asked wryly. 
“Hanging out with me is fun,” you clarified. “I—”
You were cut off with a gasp of your own as you slipped, and before you could even fully process it you were falling. It wasn’t until everything steadied that you realized someone had caught you, strong arms cradled you around your waist. You looked up to see Luke’s wide eyes. 
“You good?” he asked, his voice slightly higher than usual. 
“Yeah,” you said, nodding far too many times, “yeah. Yeah, I’m good.” 
“...Good,” he said, ever eloquent. 
A small smile creeped in. “You can let me go now.” 
It almost took him a moment to come back to Earth, because he blinked before he nodded, smiling on his own as he helped you back up. You could feel the heat in your face and tried your best to ignore it as you looked down. A small pool of oil was the culprit—you grimaced at the thought of having to clean that out of your jeans. Thank the gods for Luke. 
“That’s gotta be points off,” Luke whispered in your ear, still close by, and you stifled a laugh. “Oil on the floor, making pretty counselors slip. Right?” 
You ignored him too, looking over at Alya, though you couldn’t stop your smile. She looked mortified. 
“I am so sorry,” she rushed. “I guess Michael didn’t clean as well as he said.” 
“No problem,” you said. “I’ve got a little guardian angel. But this place isn’t too great.” 
“Damn,” she mumbled. “I even got one of your sisters to come in and help clean things up. Do you not smell the perfume?” 
“The smoke kinda overpowers it,” you said sympathetically, and she sighed. “Three out of five, Alya. But you’re right on the edge of a four.” 
Alya glanced at Luke. “Better than Hermes?” 
Luke grimaced. “I don’t wanna talk about it.” 
She smiled and went off to talk to one of her siblings. Luke shook his head and tutted once she was gone. “The double standards here are ridiculous, Rose. I might have to report you to Chiron.” 
“Oh, quiet.” You hit him in the side lightly with the clipboard and continued scanning the room for  a final check. “If you wanted help with cleaning up from an Aphrodite kid, all you had to do was ask.” 
“And would you have accepted?” he asked. 
“Of course,” you said as you scribbled down your last couple of notes. “I’ll always help you, Luke.” 
He went silent as you continued to write, and when you finished you saw he was only looking at you. 
You frowned. “What?” 
“Nothing,” Luke said, still smiling. “Let’s keep going.” 
You stared at him for a moment, but he didn’t say anything else. So you just laughed a bit and shrugged. Luke followed behind you as you walked out, and despite his claims of ‘nothing’ just a moment ago, soon enough he was talking again. 
“So,” he said, “Valentine’s Day.” 
“Valentine’s Day,” you said sagely. “What’s your plan?” 
“Be my Valentine.” 
“That’s your plan?” You glanced over at him. “Just asking me out straight-up?” 
“Oh, sorry. I also have this.” Luke pulled something out of his back pocket and held it out. You couldn’t help but laugh. 
“A rose?” you asked with a lopsided smile. 
“Not just any rose,” he said as you took it. “A chocolate rose.” 
“You are so cute.” You pulled the wrapper off, and though the stem and leaves were plastic, the flower was, indeed, very much chocolate, and in the shape of a rather pretty rose. 
Luke shrugged. “Figured you needed something as sweet as you.” 
“I’ve got a toothache just from being with you,” you remarked. You broke it in half with a bit of effort and offered it to Luke. 
“You can’t just split the gifts I get for you with me.” 
“They’re my gifts,” you said. “I can do whatever I want with them.” 
“Really?” he asked. 
“What’s a rose without her thorns?” you responded. Luke grinned as he took the other half from you. You popped yours into your mouth and your eyebrows rose. 
“This is actually good chocolate,” you said as Luke ate his part. “Not like that crap we get at the camp store.” 
“I might’ve snuck out to the city to get the good stuff,” Luke said offhandedly. 
You looked at him incredulously. “What?” 
“Did I stutter?” 
“You risked all that trouble just to get some chocolate for me?” you marveled. “Hell from Chiron, extra chores for a month, literal monster attacks—” 
Luke held up a hand, stopping your ranting. “Nothing happened. And even if it did,” he shrugged, “you’re worth it. So it doesn’t matter.” 
You shook your head and Luke continued. “Besides, I got some other stuff too for the rest of my plan.” 
“Right,” you nodded, “you never finished telling me.” 
“How’s your schedule?” 
“Busy,” you said. “I’m an Aphrodite kid during Valentine’s season.” 
Luke tipped his shoulder. “Fair. Think you can block something out for me?” 
“That depends what it is,” you said. 
“It’s a secret,” he said. 
You stared at him. “A secret?” 
He nodded. “It might be a foreign concept to you Aphrodite kids, but—” 
You cut him off with a light shove and he only chuckled in response. “So you talk yourself up and it ends up being a secret.”
“I think I’ve earned some secret surprises,” Luke said. “I’m already sweeping you off your feet.” 
You shook your head, smiling inwardly as you tapped your pen against the clipboard. “Is that how you see it?” 
“Well, I did keep you from an untimely death back there,” he said. “And the more unfortunate plight of having to get oil stains out.” 
“You read my mind,” you mused. 
“And isn’t that worth a date?” Luke asked. “Saving you from a fashion faux pas?” 
“You’re worth a date all on your own,” you said as you came up to the next cabin—Apollo was bright as ever, gleaming golden in the sunlight—and you looked at him with a smile. “No rescuing required.” 
-
Your journey to the rest of the cabins went by relatively quickly, especially the Apollo and Ares cabins—you think Luke had been temporarily stunned into silence by you actually flirting back. 
You’d had a subdued smile on your face nearly the entire time, even as you felt warmth bloom over your face again. Luke really brought out the inner Aphrodite in you—you were sure your mother was proud, wherever she was watching. What seemed to get Luke out of his addled state was the 5/5 you gave to your own cabin—he complained that the scent of perfume gave him a headache, and when you said you’d been wearing perfume the entire day, he claimed that it was different. 
(Cabin Ten kept their full score. It was amazing what a pretty smile could do, especially when Luke was the victim.) 
Finally, you were at the Demeter cabin. Luke insisted on going there last, so that all the expectations would be tapered—he was still trying to get a better score for his cabin, but the odds were looking pretty slim. The door was already open, and you smiled at the newly grown flowers outside the cabin. 
“Nice touch.” 
Luke sighed. “Great. Going out with a bang.” 
“It’ll be fine, Luke,” you said. “I’ll help you clean your cabin tonight.” 
He frowned. “You were actually serious?” 
“Of course I was.” You tipped your head. “It’ll just have to be pretty late. Y’know, because you’ll be cleaning all the dishes.” 
“Low blow,” he said, shaking his head. You chuckled as you stopped in the doorway and poked your head in. 
“Hey, Katie,” you called to the counselor. “How’re things?” 
“Good,” she said, nodding. A smile of her own bloomed on her lips as her gaze moved over to Luke. “I see Rose and her thorns are on duty today.” 
“Flattery won’t help you with your score,” Luke mused as he walked into the cabin. You smiled as he held out his hand for the clipboard, and you finally acquiesced. You could feel Katie’s eyes on you as he walked further in. 
“He takes that as a compliment?” 
“Thorns protect a rose,” you said, still watching Luke. He played the part of a foreman well, investigating their shelves and walls with vigor and even opening drawers. You couldn’t help but laugh a bit, and Luke looked back and smiled at you. You nodded, giving him the go-ahead, and he winked as he gave you a thumbs-up. 
“And he protects you?” she asked. 
You shrugged. “We protect each other.” 
“…You would be cute together,” Katie admitted. 
You managed to tear your eyes away from Luke, leaning back against the wall. “You think so?” 
“He’s only been vying for your attention and flirting with you since the moment you got to camp,” she said wryly. “But you’re the expert on love—you tell me.” 
You bit your lip as your gaze darted back to Luke, who was squatting on the floor having what looked to be a very serious conversation with a younger Demeter boy. 
“I think I’m his valentine,” you said, almost absentmindedly. “And I think I’m really looking forward to whatever this date is.” 
Katie came back into focus as you came back to Earth, and even she was smiling. “Then I think you’ve got your answer.” 
Luke had picked the most opportune moment to come back, when you weren’t staring at him like an infatuated idiot—you were only one of those things—and he held out the clipboard and pen to you. “After having a very in-depth conversation with Damian about how things are going here, I scored them properly.” 
You chuckled as you took it from him, but your eyebrows rose the more you read. “You’re kidding me.” 
He shook his head. “There’s unpaid labor going on here—unpaid child labor. Damian said he’s responsible for half the cleaning and plants here.” 
“We’re all children. All the labor we do is child labor,” you deadpanned. “And we’re sure as hell not getting paid.” 
Luke held his hands up. “Don’t shoot the messenger. I’m just delivering what he’s said.” 
“Don’t tell me he gave us all ones,” Katie said dryly. 
“You know him so well,” you mused. You scribbled out half of what Luke wrote as you stood up from the wall, shielding it with your body so he couldn’t see while you walked out together. “See you, Katie!” 
Her protests fell on Luke’s deaf ears as he held up the rear, shutting the door behind you two, and when you looked back at him he was grinning. 
“Straight ones,” he tutted, shaking his head. “What a shame. Looks like they’re gonna be cleaning the dishes tonight.” 
“You know they got a five, Luke,” you said, finally allowing him to see your revised marks. “If you’re gonna fudge the numbers, at least try and make them believable.” 
“Oh, come on!” he exclaimed. “A five is way too nice—it’s not fair that they can just grow plants all over and make everything look presentable. Using powers should count as cheating.” 
“Their floors are clean, their beds are made, and it smells like floral heaven,” you said. You tapped his chest with your pen. “You could learn something from them, Castellan.” 
He caught your wrist before you could move it away. “The Aphrodite cabin always gets perfect scores. Think you could teach me a few things?” 
You grinned as you pulled your hand out of his grip and continued walking, this time en route to the Big House to drop off the final inspections. “That depends.” 
“On what?” Luke came back into your peripherals as he caught up to you. 
“On how good this secret plan of yours is,” you mused. 
His eyes lit up, past worries of low inspection scores seemingly fading away in an instant. “So it’s a go? You’re in?” 
“Of course I am,” you said, tucking the clipboard under your arm. “You got me the good chocolate, Luke. How could I not see where this goes?” 
Previously unnoticed pressure dissolved in his shoulders as he took your hands in his. You could only focus on his eyes, on the warmth of his skin, on the callouses borne from years of sword-fighting. 
He was surely blessed by your mother. 
“You’re not gonna regret it,” Luke vowed. “All those promises I’ve made about blowing you off your feet, about making your mother proud—they’re all gonna be true.” 
“You know what wise men say,” you said wryly. 
“That they’re so glad you’re finally giving me a chance?” 
“Only fools rush in,” you provided. “Going all in on our first date seems a little hasty.” 
“Isn’t your whole thing supposed to be rushing in?” he asked cloyingly. “Y’know, daughter of love and all.” 
You shrugged. “Maybe I like taking the idea of taking it slow with you.” 
“Then call me a fool,” Luke mused, letting go of one hand to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. His own curls hung over his eyes and you had the strongest urge to take his face in your hands. “Because you should know I can’t help it.” 
You felt your cheeks heat as warmth spread all over, and you couldn’t even try to hide your smile. “You think you can take me out on one of those city trips of yours? Show me how to steal a camp van without getting in the most trouble?” 
“I’m trying to steal your heart here,” Luke said with a goofy grin, “but I think a van’ll do.” 
“Oh, don’t worry.” You took his hand back, intertwining your fingers together as you pulled him closer to you. “We can multitask.” 
2K notes · View notes
poltoreveur · 3 months
Text
Seduction by the Shores
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Pairing: Luke Castellan x GN!Reader (implied pussy lol)
Warning: NSFW, set before tlt, smut, PWP, piv, semi-public sex, doing it on the wet ground, dom!Luke to slightly sub!Luke and back to soft dom!Luke, choking, going in raw and creampie (wrap it before you tap it!), slight aftercare.
Word count: 5.3k+ (I got carried away).
A/N: In the wise of SZA, “now I’m ovulating and I need rough sex.” So I'm back again with another fic. Weirdly enough, I reappeared last year just to write a smut fic and leave (oops). I usually have a summary for this, but this is just pure smut.
!Not readproof! I’m too lazy to reread my own writing.
Everyone loves Luke Castellan.
He’s the golden boy of Camp Half-Blood. Handsome, generous, and kind. Helps out the new kids. He’s the best swordsman in camp by a mile. You’d even love Luke if you didn’t know better. Maybe you did anyway.
But you've always known there's more to him than his charming exterior. You've seen his eyes change like they're hiding something. That shift happens mostly when his father is mentioned, and he tense up. You've tried to avoid him, but he always seems to find you. One night, he caught you by the lake, his eyes kind but troubled. "I'm guessing you're not having a great night."
For all his charm and charisma, Luke Castellan is more than just the beloved golden boy of Camp Half-Blood; he's a human being with a complex inner world, one that's filled with secrets and conflicts. Despite his best efforts to hide it, at times, his inner struggles emerge, leaving you to wonder just how much more there might be to Luke than meets the eye.
You glanced over at him watching him approach you but kept your quiet. Luke sits down next to you, close, but not touching.
Luke looks at you, waiting for a comment or an explanation. The lake is beautiful, shining in the moonlight. It's actually quite a lovely scene, he's not sure why you'd be miserable here. He has this habit of looking at you without actually looking at you, somehow making it feel more personal.
"I could help with that, you know? Make your night a little more fun."
"Don't start with me, Castellan." You simply commented, rolling your eyes as your gaze stayed staring at the lake.
You can't tell if he smiles or not, but he laughs before speaking. It's actually just adorable when his lips curl up. Luke leans closer, not much. Just enough to make you a little anxious.
"How was I starting anything? I was trying to brighten your mood. I bet I could help."
Something comes into his eyes, a darkness.
His voice is still the smiling flirty guy that everyone loves, but his tone changes a little.
"Besides... you look so miserable. I've always been really good at fixing people's moods. It's one of my best qualities."
He leans a little closer than before. Close enough that you can smell the honey, citrus scent coming from his cologne. You're not sure if he does that intentionally, but he's quite close now.
"Come on now, you know you can tell me. Maybe I could put a smile on that pretty little face."
"You could, but I might have to kill you after." That made him smirk. The way he's looking at you... Oh Gods.
"You can try, you know I'd get you right before you got me, though. I'm too quick." He grinned. He was flirting, he always flirted, but there was something else in his eyes. Something darker.
"Come on, what could be so serious?"
“Not gonna talk it out of me, Castellan." You closed your eyes before lying down on the ground. The ground was damp but it wasn’t too much of an inconvenience, finding comfort just lying there.
He smiles and lies down right next to you.
Too close now, too close. You're practically on top of each other but he doesn't pull away.
The grass is very green, the lake is a beautiful dark blue. It's actually quite peaceful here. The air is still but not too cold.
"You're too stubborn sometimes. Why won't you tell me?" His hand brushes her hair absentmindedly. "You can talk to me, even if you don't want to."
"I feel like if someone doesn't want to, they won't talk." You pointed out the obvious, slowly glancing up at him again.
Luke smiles, his hand resting on your head now. He's actually being surprisingly gentle.
His eyes are so hypnotic in this light. His voice grows softer, a hint of that darkness in it still. “I like to make people change their minds. You would talk if I got you into the right mood."
"Not gonna happen."
"Really now?" He leans in just close enough to almost kiss you. He's still smiling, his voice a little bit softer, a little bit more husky.
"You're stubborn." He said, lightly tapping your nose. "I'm stubborn. We can stay like this all night if you want. But I'll stay here to remind you that I care."
Luke pulls back again, smiling at you. He gets a little bit closer though, until his face is mere inches away from yours. He tilts his head at just the right angle to catch the moonlight coming off his blue eyes.
"Think about that." Luke looked into her eyes for a long moment. Then he leaned forward, placing his hand on your head and kissed your forehead.
"Just a reminder."
Luke pulls away and sits up. His hands are resting on his legs now, and he's looking up at the moon.
"What do you think about the sky, you know? The stars. It's quite beautiful. Makes you think about things. Life's so short. Maybe you should do the things you want to do, while you can." Luke chuckles, sitting back down and looking up at the sky. He looks at you for a second, then looks away.
The air is thick with tension. Luke looks at you over his shoulder, with kind of a half smile on his face. His eyes are still that darker colour, but they're softer now. You're not sure why it's so tempting to lay your head on his shoulder.
"The sky is beautiful. You know, most demigods think of it as a symbol of the gods, right? But I've always thought of it as... freedom. I mean, who cares what the gods think?" He said, looking back at you.
"The sky makes me feel free. I'll look at it sometimes when I'm feeling trapped, you know." He glances back at you, expecting an input.
"You think the gods are looking down at us from the sky?"
He laughs a bit, turning back to the sky and looking at it.
"I don't know, maybe? But even so, why should we care if they are or not? I don't get what all the fuss is about the gods, why do so many people at camp obsess over their opinions so much? They're just like any other person, except they have a little more power. They don't really care about us, if they did, then we wouldn't be the ones doing all the important stuff."
“I mean, they say that Jesus is always looking down on us, do you think they meant the sky?”
He laughs again, looking at you out of the corner of his eye.
"You're really not going to let me distract you from whatever's bothering you, are you? Even when I'm trying really hard." There's another hint of that darkness in his eyes.
"I don't want to think about it, I just wanna lay down and have a relaxing moment to myself, but I'd rather it not be on this damp ground." He knows how stubborn you are. Instead, he smiled and scooted closer.
He's so close to you now, his body is close to yours and he can feel your breath. He just stares up at the sky.
"Where else?" He looks into your eyes. He's enjoying this. You’re falling for this. He smiles. "The lake sounds pretty lovely to me."
"It's wet here."
The darkness in his eyes is getting stronger. His voice is growing husky again, the way you like it.
He can’t help it, Luke leans closer again. He wants the intimacy between you. There is a subtle change in his eyes. He stares at you, and now his hand is brushing your leg.
His voice is low and rough and seductive. “The lake is fine. I prefer it, even. It’s the perfect place for us.”
A hint of a smirk rises from his lip. He knows how much he affects you. You both know exactly what he’s trying to do, and you both want to do it, but he will not let you think you have any control over this situation, he’s always in control.
He leans towards you again, his hand moving further up your leg.
"Castellan." His name came out of your lips like a warning but you said it softly enough for him.
The smirk slowly rises on his lip, and he whispers.
"What, love?" His hand keeps creeping up your leg, his voice sounding almost like a growl. It's such a change from the charming guy you know, and it's so tempting, yet so unsettling. He stares at you, waiting for a response, waiting to see what you'll do.
You can almost feel the dark energy coming off him. His presence is just so dominating right now, he wants this. He is getting closer and closer until he's practically lying on top of you. He's not looking at you anymore, he's just looking down at his hand which is resting just below your thigh. It is not moving up, but you can feel the tension.
He leans up, his eyes searching yours. You can tell that he wants something more than just a little flirting. He wants to see how far he can take this. Luke's hands are going up even higher, brushing her thighs now. He's so close now, you can feel his breath brushing your neck.
The tension builds more and more. He is so close to just taking you right here. You can feel him starting to move his hands to the sides of your back, to the small of your back. He wants this, and he can't help but try. The darkness in his eyes is getting more potent, as his breathing gets heavier and heavier.
He leans in closer, his mouth less than a few inches away from your neck. You can feel his breath. He's waiting. That anticipation, that temptation, is just so intoxicating and it's making him crazy.
The darkness of his eyes fades away as he finally makes a move. His lips come closer, so close, until they just touch, making a soft clicking sound. His eyes close, and his lips finally meet yours, his lips opening slightly to let the kiss linger longer until he pulls back and leans towards your ear.
It was such a soft kiss, nothing more than his lips barely grazing yours. But the heat between them builds when his eyes reopen. He pulls away just barely speaking.
"Castellan."
Your voice is so low, so quiet, and yet so alluring. Luke’s breathing starts to speed up, and his grin gets wider.
He looks down at her with the darkest eyes you’ve ever seen. His voice is low. "Luke." He corrected.
You only called him by his first name, whenever you’re gonna or when you’re doing it. He was certain you’ve been deliberately conditioning him with it.
Luke's movements slow, his body unweights your body.
His eyes are dark. A little bit too dark. He seems less sure of himself now. Still, Luke's hand is sliding up your thigh. Closer to what he wants.
He's so close to you now. He's moving his hand up and down your leg. Slowly. Almost teasingly. His voice is barely a whisper.
He quickly took the initiative by kissing you aggressively. But somehow your hands making their way to the back of his neck and into his hair.
His tongue flicks into your mouth as his hands grip your thighs, he squeezes tighter. Luke’s breath comes out in short little moans.
Luke is on a whole different level now. He's enjoying this more and more. His eyes are closed as he kisses you deeper. His hands move further up your thighs. This is going exactly how he wanted it to. He's got you completely trapped and submissive at this point and he knows it. He opens one eye and looks at you.
"Do you want me?" He asks, his voice dark and smooth. He's holding himself just on the edge. Right where he wants to be. He stares into her deep sapphire eyes, waiting for an answer. It's a dark question, but he wants to hear it from you.
You simply smirk at his question. You knew that he wanted you to say it, your admission is everything to him. But you weren’t going to give him that satisfaction as you pulled him closer and just started kissing him again, slowly, biting down on his lower lip.
He groans and then laughs quietly. You weren’t giving him the words he wanted to hear. That was fine. He was going to make you say it.
He kisses you back, harder, faster. His hands are moving under your shirt, tracing the curves of your back and waist.
Luke leans back, his forehead leaning on you. Your breaths are coming faster and faster. Your lips touch when you kiss. He is in complete control over you right now, and he likes that. "You want me? Say it."
"I'm not giving you that power." Your hands travelled down his shirt and slowly went underneath it, feeling the tone of his abs.
His body is still now, but you can feel his muscles tensing as you move your hands.
It's like you're pressing switches that turn a machine on. A low groan escapes his mouth, as his breath quickens again. His eyes close tight as he tries to resist the urge.
His breath hitches in his throat, but you probably doesn't notice that for a moment. His eyes snap open when he can't fight it and he stares at you, waiting for you to admit it.
He's the only person at camp who actually has this level of control. He pushes you back down, his hands going down to your waist now. His breath is almost like a growl at this point. It's pure pleasure to hear that he still has complete control over uou. His voice is soft in your ear now. "Please."
You chuckled and moved down to his neck to kiss it.
Luke tenses again. His neck is his weakness.
He always liked to be in control, and his neck feels like it gives him away. He likes that you found this. "Please." His voice is low but pleading. They both know that he is very much begging you to say it now as his neck is being kissed aggressively.
Luke gasps as you continue trailing kisses down his neck. He tenses again. His breath is heavy in his throat.
The sound alone is like music to your ears. His hands are still at your waist, squeezing a little harder. He likes the feeling of you pulling at his shirt, but he tries to still keep himself on. "Please." His voice had the sound of urgency, almost begging now as his eyes dart to yours.
"I like it when you beg."
That wasn’t exactly what he wanted you to say but his body responds to your voice. His breath catches in his throat again and he arches back against your body. His eyes roll back and another low groan escapes his lips. One of his hands moves up to your neck as he pins you down against him, and starts dragging his hand down your back.
"You'll have to earn that," you purred, licking a trail along his neck that made his gut twist taut.
Luke's body moves away from you. His breath comes out in short but heavy breaths, he arches his back and lets out a deep grunt of pleasure. "I can earn it." He pushes you back down now.
He is taking control again. He kisses your neck passionately, his lips against your neck, his breath almost like a growling moan against your skin. He is moving slowly around your neck now as if he's exploring.
He positioned himself between your thighs. One hand supported your back, while the other fumbled to unclasp his belt.
It was difficult to recall how he'd ever got aroused before you came along. The way you both demanded and begged all at once sent his brain spinning.
Luke's hand is fumbling with his belt, it's not coming undone though. Like him, he's lost control. He's lost control over you, over himself, he never loses control. Maybe that is why he's enjoying this so much. Your presence and your kisses have turned him completely into someone else, someone whose only thoughts are pleasure. He leans forward again, kissing your neck passionately yet again. His breath is coming fast but heavy now. He's completely and utterly obsessed with the feeling.
You smirk before your hand slowly starts to help him undo his belt as well as unbutton his pants.
His head arches back slightly and he lets out a low groan again. "Yes..." He whispers softly. His breath is heavy in his throat. He takes a look down and is startled to see she is helping him undo his belt. Now he is almost completely submissive to you. You’re the one in charge now, completely at your whim. All he wants is you.
"Say please," you whispered, nipping his lower lip as he pulled your pants hastily down to your ankles, impatient as he is, he moved your soaked underwear to the side. “I like it when you ask nicely."
Luke is almost embarrassed. He has never been this submissive before. He always thought he’d be in complete control at all times. But you had to take control away from him and he doesn’t even mind. “Please…” His voice is soft, begging for you now. He looks down at you now, wanting you to reply. He wants to give up all control to you. All he wants now is your eternal pleasure.
You simpered before kissing him, your tongue eagerly seeking his.
You swallowed his moan as he hurried to himself free from the restraints of his boxers. He couldn’t wait anymore, he pushed himself into you. Tight, hot, and quivering as he gave you everything he had. He loosely wrapped his fingers around your throat, and you whined against his mouth, my head tilting back as my eyes fluttered shut. He tightened his grip, your own hands scrambling at his waist to encourage him deeper.
This is more pleasure than he has ever felt. The feeling of being completely submissive is a thrill that he had never felt before. He loves being at the complete mercy of someone else. Luke pulls you closer to him, arching his back again and letting out low grunts into your mouth. He holds your neck and he pulls back, looking down at you. His breath is heavy in your ear, his eyes closed tight. “You have… complete control.”
He was completely lost now. All he could hear was her begging now. All of his focus was on you now, he was consumed by you. Your hands around his waist, his mouth kissing yours passionately, your bodies moving in perfect sync with each other. His breathing grew heavier as the pace grew faster. His hand tightened on your throat, as if by instinct, but still gentle.
Luke’s breathing was heavy, his body tense and quivering. His breath was all he could hear now. Every time he moved forward, you moved her body and his would follow, and vice versa. You both lost yourselves more and more in a world where nothing mattered but you and the feeling you could give him. His breath caught in his throat, it came out in moans of pleasure. His hand was tight around your neck, but you could feel the soft grip of it.
You close your eyes in the pleasure of everything.
Everything around you felt a little fuzzy even your vision as you threw your head back while still trying to keep your hands on his waist, but you didn’t think you could hold on much longer as you gripped on his way, slowly started to falter.
The pace was getting faster now. His breath was coming faster and heavier now. “Hey, stay with me…” He whispered. It was so close. He was so close.
His body shakes uncontrollably. Every nerve in his body was tingling with pleasure. His grip on your neck tightened slightly as you moved faster and faster. His breath was coming out in short little exhales. His eyes are closed tight, his whole body quivering. All he can hear is your breath and soft moans, which are getting louder now.
He is so close, but he doesn’t want to finish right now. He wants to drag it out for you. He wants you to experience more of this. His grip tightens again, but still gently. His breathing is coming out in short little gasps now. Every fibre of Luke’s being was consumed with you and this pleasure.
You keep going, your bodies moving together, the pace has reached its peak now. His breath is short and loud now, his grip is tighter on you but not harsh.
He pulled you closer by your waist with one arm, maintaining his grip on your neck with the other, aligning me to accommodate all of him. With each thrust, I bit down on the flesh of his shoulder as his whole body tensed and his breath caught in his throat. His body shudders, and his entire body shakes with the pleasure. His hand is now tight around your neck, as he hits the peak of pleasure now. His breathing comes out in the slightest groan of satisfaction as your bodies combine together in one last movement.
Luke is shaking by this point. His breathing is deep now and his whole body is a quivering mess. Your touch is the most intense feeling he’s ever had. The pace was steady now and the feeling had only gotten more intense. The feeling of your hands around his waist, as you move with him. Your eyes looking into him. His body is twitching and tense, his breath is sharp and loud now. He can almost feel what you’re feeling as you move together.
“Luke, I’m—“
“Don’t stop.” He whispered in your ear. He was so close. His whole body was tense and she could feel the vibrations of his breath. Your touch was all he was thinking about now. He was in complete control for the first time in a long time. He was in complete control of your pleasure. Your breathing became louder, and he knew you were close to your climax too. You could feel the vibrations of his breath as you got closer and closer.
Luke’s body is shaking uncontrollably now. The grip around your neck is the tightest it’s been all night, but still gentle. His breath is coming out in loud sharp gasps now, his body twitching like crazy. Your body is twitching with his, the both of you moving at your own pace.
His grip is tightening even more as he feels the buildup of energy in her body. His breathing is like a growl now. He has completely lost control again, you were the one in control. You were the one making the pace. Now he just wants to hear you finally call out to him, call out to him that you’re almost there. Your body is the only one he feels now. You, your breathing, your motions. You are all he feels. He wants you to let go of it all, he wants you to call to him. He could feel you getting closer and closer.
“I swear to the Gods, Luke. I’m gonna—“ You finally mumbled his name again, but it came out breathless as you tried to hold onto him. You were practically clinging onto him for dear life. He could feel you clenching inside around him. Which almost made him lose control, he would’ve given up at that very moment if it wasn’t for your voice grounding him.
Your voice is like music to his ears. It’s all he wanted to hear. He was holding on to you tightly as the both of you were so close to the end. You calling out to him sends waves through his body, but he is losing even more control of himself. Your calling out to him only sends him further into the pleasure. His grip around your neck tightens even more, as he pulls you closer, his forehead coming to rest on yours.
Both of you are extremely close and are moving together at the same pace. He can feel your breath coming out in short, sharp gasps. You both move together like there is only one body moving. You both have reached your peak now and are moving like machines now. The pace is too much, you calling out to him is too much.
Your breathing is his breath. Your heartbeat is his heartbeat. The pace has built to its peak and it’s pushing you both to the end. Luke is so close to the end now, he is feeling what you’re feeling. You both finally are at the absolute peak of pleasure. You both reach their finale simultaneously. Your bodies shake uncontrollably and his grip is the tightest it has been all night as he lets everything out at once.
He came inside of you, his groaning was the only warning as you felt him shoot up his release.
He nuzzled right up against you, wrapping his arm around your waist. He was still slowly thrusting inside, just warm white liquid started spilling out of you.
Both of their breathing settles down and their bodies relax. Luke is out of his trance now, his breathing is coming out heavy but no longer is it an animalistic growl. He’s calm now, but satisfied. The whole night had been a thrill for him. It was exactly what he wanted: someone to take complete control of him, which he didn’t even know he wanted. His grip around your neck loosens and he pulls away from you.
Luke finally finds himself again. He is looking right into her eyes and his voice is low but soft. He is looking right into her eyes and he gives a small grin. “It’s okay, I got you.” He mumbles, nuzzling his head right into her neck. “Don’t worry.”
He kisses your neck softly again, but his breathing is normal now. He isn’t losing control anymore. He was now just content with your presence. He snuggles closer to you, his voice is soft and the glow of his eyes is different than before. He is relaxed, calm, and content.
“Are you alright?” Luke thought he might’ve been too hard with the choking earlier, but based on your expression, he didn’t really have anything much to worry about.
Luke was content. His body movements were slow and smooth now. He had complete control of himself now. The pace of his thrusts had slowed down but he was still inside of you. His breath was still heavy, but not because it was intense pleasure anymore. It’s just because it was comfortable. The glow in his eyes was not the same as before, his eyes were full of content and pleasure. Instead of intense pleasure, it was more like satisfaction now. His hand was still tight around your waist, and he brought his other hand up to your hand, squeezing it softly.
Luke’s breaths were coming out in slow grunts and he was keeping a pace with no intensity to it whatsoever. It felt more like he was moving in slow motion. The two of you were finally just moving together now as if you were one single person. Neither of you were looking at anything else. Nothing else mattered in this moment but this pleasure you finally felt with each other.
“I’m okay.”
It was as if his body was just flowing smoothly with you. His hand is still tight at your waist and your hand is still holding him tightly. The feeling was a complete mix of pure bliss and complete pleasure. The two of you were enjoying each other’s touch so much that nothing else mattered at all. You were just locked together, moving in an endless rhythm now.
You were still letting out heavy breaths in mere seconds, one after the other. “This is disgusting.” You motioned to the wet damp ground that you both were lying on.
He laughs at you. You both were pretty disgusting. But it’s also somewhat funny that he didn’t care, your whole bodies are soaked and sticky. Luke’s laughs are soft and low now. He lifts up one of his hands to wipe the sweat off of his brow. He looks over at the ground and laughs again as he looks back at you. He lowered himself as he planted a kiss on your forehead, his hands slowly grazing upon your cheek.
“Look at us.” He laughs silently, keeping his voice low. He chuckles a little bit, the two of you are such a mess right now.
Luke laughs a little bit more, it’s funny to him how much of a mess they both are. The ground is totally soaked and sticky as is your body and his. You both are completely covered in your own bodily fluids. It’s quite the scene to take in all at once.
Luke’s laughter dies down slightly, though it’s still somewhat there as he just chuckles at the whole situation. He looks over at you and smiles a small and soft smile at you. He shakes his head slightly, just still finding it funny. The whole scene is just utterly ridiculous and disgusting.
“You think they’ll notice us missing and coming back all sweaty and disgusting?”
He laughs again slightly and his body shakes in amusement. The thought of them both coming back to camp in this state is a funny thought to him. The two of you are covered in your own sweat and fluids, it’s not exactly a pretty sight of the two of you. So much so, that people will notice at first glance.
“Let’s wash up a little by the lake.”
He nods his head. He doesn’t even really feel that sore right now. You really were covered in so much sweat and fluids. The thought of even being around other people makes him feel awkward. Your suggestion is good though, a good old rinse-off is just what you both need right now. He pulls you off of him and sat up.
“Pull up your pants, Castellan,” I commented, looking down at him as I sat up straight, brushing off the debris on my clothes.
He is still lying at your feet. He shakes his head and he nods you off of him. He stands up slowly and he laughs at your comment. His pants actually fell down further and they are hanging around his ankles. He pulls them up and zips them up.
You were being direct, and it cracked him up a little. He is completely covered in yours and now his own juices.
“I feel sticky.”
“You think you feel sticky?” He laughs again and shakes his head. He grabs your hand and he pulls you up off of the floor and holds you close to him. He takes a quick glance around at the surroundings before looking right back at you.
“Let’s find a place where we can wash off.” He says with a smirk on his face. His body is a hot mess and he can feel every bit of it. He didn’t even believe they could get this dirty, but they did. So you need to get cleaned up now, especially before any of the other campers notice the two of you. That would be absolutely horrific.
“Nobody can find out.”
He chuckles again and he nods his head. You were absolutely right about that. Nobody can find out about this, it would be so embarrassing. You both would go down in history as a complete disgrace if anyone found out.
“God, we’re so nasty.” He muttered, leading the way towards the lake.
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rootbeerworshiper · 13 days
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make it up
chris sturniolo x fem!reader
summery: your situationship gets in the way of your fun at a pool party, especially when it’s with a flirt who you leave no other choice but to make it up to you.
warnings: smut..don’t let the cute cover fool you lol, sub!chris, lowkey both him and the reader are toxic, fem!receiving, face sitting, missionary, unprotected sex, i think that’s all
a/n: this was a struggle to write and i think it took years off my life but that’s okay!!
4.2k words
love, sienna <3
it was practically impossible for you to focus on anything other than the way that Chris looked, standing there with his chest exposed and his swimsuit hugging him in ways that make you woozy. you aren’t official, so it takes everything within you to not go and let the world know he’s yours, but he is.
you and Chris both lack a sense of commitment to romantic relationships, it’s what makes your situation so much easier to navigate. there’s a level of trust within your dynamic because you both want the same thing out of it. there’s also spoken rule of not seeing anyone else, a rule you’ve both obliged to for the past few months.
a pool party isn’t necessarily something you were yearning for, but Chris insisted that you come along with him, and you weren’t one to say no to him very often.
the sun is beating down on the comically large backyard, your scalp feeling hot and a few sweat beads trickle down your neck as you pour yourself a drink at some pop up table.
this wasn’t entirely… your crowd, but you do have a few people you’re somewhat friends with which you are more than thankful for as you create small talk near the table.
Chris has put his focus on playing volleyball in the pool with a bunch of his random friends, his wet hair falling on his forehead before he runs his hand through it so he can see the net better.
you mindlessly talk to the people around you before very quickly growing bored with the effort-fuelled conversations about the weather and whatever new couple just broke up.
it feels a bit un natural to be standing around in two small pieces of fabric that are vibrant against your skin while being completely above water. so you set your random plastic cup down and walk towards the clear splashing water that’s surrounded by concrete walls.
you opt to sit along the edge, keeping a close eye on Chris who couldn’t help but notice your presence immediately.
maybe the reason you work so well with him is because you’ve known him for such a long amount of time. he was your lab partner in junior year chemistry and as annoying as you may have found him at first, he was funny, and it was his goal to be constantly putting a smile on your face.
it wasn’t long after until he was putting more than just a smile on your face—and god was he addicting.
you let your feet sway in the slightly cold water while you rely on your wrists to keep you upright, in full view of the blazing sun.
if you weren’t going to be having a blast the least you could do is create a few tan lines.
the boy across from you tries his best to stay focused on the game, but he can’t help but pay attention to the incredibly flattering swimsuit that rests on your body as your skin glistens in the heat. your thighs squished together on the cement outline of the pool with small droplets of water dripping down them has him insanely distracted to say the least.
“cmon Chris focus up!” a plea can be heard from some random guy who stands next to him, furthest from you but still very aware as to where Chris’ head is at.
everywhere but the game.
he shakes his head, leaving you a small, playful smirk before looking back to the poorly set up net towards his eager opponents.
you watch for a while, eyes fixated on the way his tongue darts out of his mouth to coat his lips. his full focus on the same is weirdly attractive.
his back muscles are outlined perfectly in the sun. you want nothing more than to have your hands scratching helplessly over them with your nails.
soon enough the ‘game’ comes to a close, bringing your head back to reality.
Chris swims over, situating himself between your legs and placing his cold wet hands on the base of your knees. “hi” he looks up at you, blue irises highlighted in the immersive light pouring down on him.
you laugh slightly, wrapping your bare legs around his smooth back. “hi pretty boy did you win?”
“were you not watching?” he inquires, wiping stray water droplets off of his freckled face. he leans in slightly closer as if he’s telling you a secret. ��definitely lost but they’re too drunk and they fully believe that i won so i’ll let them believe what they want”
another small laugh escapes your lips when the mentions of the sport remind you of a memory. “do you remember third period gym class when i accidentally served a volleyball directly at your face?”
he rolls his eyes playfully in response, a bead of water dripping down the side of his neck. “course i do, you apologized for like a week straight”
“not my fault you were walking around the halls with a black eye! i felt bad” you defend yourself passionately.
“well it actually was your fault but” Chris just schooches you slightly closer to him. hands pulling you in by your lower back so that your plush thighs make contact with his sides. “it was cute when you felt all bad and shit”
you wrap your arms around the back of his neck, fingers delicately running through the hair sprawled on the back of his head. “how much longer do we have to stay?”
“you act like a pool party is a chore” he laughs softly. “give it another half hour and then we can get ready to leave”
before you can say anything in reply you hear a familiar voice call out your name. “hey come over here! we’re shotgunning right now”
you don’t entirely want to go, your time would be much better spent with the boy in between your legs but he’s not your boyfriend, and it would feel wrong to cancel on people wanting to do something with you for him. even if just looking at his face is more than enough to keep you occupied. “i guess this is my sign to go socialize”
he fake frowns dramatically, slowly guiding his fingers up your legs until they make contact with your upper thighs. “okay lover boy i have to get up” you mutter out, fighting every urge to close the space and bring his lips to yours.
most people know you have something with Chris, they just aren’t entirely sure what. the two of you flirt constantly and tend to stick by each others sides at gatherings but usually pda is off the table for your own sanity.
today you were just a lot more needy for any form of contact with him, and you can’t be bothered at this very moment to hide from the world.
it is however annoying to constantly be answering questions about you relationship status. most of the time it’s easier to have them completely oblivious rather than curious.
so you stand up, gently taking his hands off of you before placing your feet on the cement and walking over to the girls who are standing in a patch of grass with drinks in hand—not without feeling Chris’ eyes glued to your back.
“hey you ready?” a girl asks, dark brown braids draping over her back as she hands you a colourful can.
“yeah i am, someone have a coin for me?” you ask, reaching over for the random girl that hands you the circular copper coin.
the group does a countdown and after the number one you immediately crack open the can and tilt your head back, allowing the fruity liquid to stream down your throat.
after a moment of relentlessly swallowing, you release the tin from you lips and crush it while wiping the drink off your lips.
a girl beside you practically spills her drink everywhere and you laugh with her momentarily, enjoying the small moment. this is before something catches your eye.
Chris at the back of the pool with a girl standing uncomfortably close beside him. it’s obvious to everyone around him that her intentions are anything but innocent.
people flirt with Chris all the time, he’s hot. but the way she’s practically straddling him in the chlorine water and the fact that he’s done nothing to deny her advances? you’re sick.
“hey isn’t that your boyfriend?” a random girl across from you asks, going to the table to grab a slice of water melon and handing one to you. assumingely feeling bad for you.
you shake your head, taking a bite of the flavour fruit before replying. “not… technically. but he knows better than to pull some shit like that in front of me”
she laughs softly, rubbing your arm sympathetically. all you can do is hope it’s not pity.
“what’s your name again?” you ask, trying to distract yourself from the heart wrenching sight across the still water that fills the pool. Chris hand now on the girls lower back as she talks to him about god knows what.
“maria” she replies, reaching for a bottle of sunscreen from her tote bag that rests on a random pool lounger. “and you?”
your name lingers on the tip of your tongue as you refocus your gaze onto your man who’s sitting there with a smug smirk on his face. he’s clearly amused at the girl who puts in full effort to get him interested in him.
“y/n” a fake smile forms on your face before you begin to walk towards the pool. “please excuse me while i go deal with that fucking idiot” you spit out, earning a gentle laugh in reply.
“you’re too hot to let a man like that walk over you” she adds as your back now faces her.
it’s clearly bothering you and you can’t sit back and do nothing anymore. someone clearly needs to learn a lesson.
your feet walk before your mind can even fully comprehend what’s happening. it’s un deniable that you’re in a hurry to get Chris the fuck out of that pool and your body language speaks for itself.
he sees you walking over, detaching his hands from the girl who know holds a clueless expression on her pretty little face.
“hate to break up your fun but we’re going, Chris” you mutter out, looking down at the pair as you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.
the girl immediately gives you a nasty look in return. “i’m sorry who are you?”
you roll your eyes, Chris now walking towards the pool ladder as you continue the petty conversation. “i’m his girlfriend”
she laughs. “really? because he told me you guys are just friends. might wanna sort that out before you get all possessive over someone who doesn’t feel the same”
there’s no point of explaining yourself to this random girl who is in full belief that she’s in the right. besides, you’re more mad at him than you are at her.
————————————————————————
“do you beg for your other friends like this?” you question, finger placing light pressure over the familiar patterned swim shorts. you’re standing over him, knees brushing against the mattressinserting your complete control in the dynamic.
it’s slightly later now. a golden hue shooting its vibrant light through the bedroom window as a helpless boy lays below you, propped up by his elbows so as to still look up at you.
he breaths out, shutting his eyes closed as if to somehow focus on anything other than the pads of your fingers and the touches they’re applying to him. “fuck no”
you let out a soft, menacing laugh at his innocence. it really is admirable how effortlessly you’re able to get him like this, his hips squirming restlessly against the soft blankets that rest below him.
as much as you’d love to be completely angry with him, it’s much more enjoyable to be petty. and besides, he’s got lots to make up for.
you hover over him, your hands placed next to his hips while your head dips down to his exposed neck. there’s remnants of marks you’ve left behind recently, something that girl from the pool consciously chose to look past. “you like it when i mark you up?” you whisper into his ear, chills immediately trickling down his spine while blood rushes to his growing length.
he just nods pathetically. there really is no point in arguing with you, he knows you’re right. it’s hilarious how he portrays himself to the world, like he’s some big tough guy who gets all the girls. last time you checked tough guys aren’t whimpering pet names in your ear while you tease them, maybe you’re wrong.
you take your time. getting lost in placing small kisses along his jaw, making a point to leave behind a noise with each one. it’s obvious he’s trying to hold back, it’s not easy for him to be like this but he knows he cums the best under your touch.
“who the fuck do you think you are pulling that shit in front of me? do you know how embarrassing that is?” you spit out, hands placed on your knees as they try desperately to relieve the tension that formed in your arms.
he just rolls his eyes, hands gripping the steering wheel while a stupid smug smirk pulls at his pink lips. “it’s getting really old when you do this shit. you only act like you’re in love with me when you’re jealous”
“in love with you? wow that’s rich. maybe i just didn’t wanna watch you suck face with some random girl in a musty ass pool” you argue. deep down he’s probably right in what he’s saying. you aren’t very good at showing emotions towards him until he shows interest in anyone that’s not you.
“please” he whines as your mouth creates suction on his collarbone, notably leaving more marks to add to his scattered collection.
his words are in vast contrast to those he was spewing on the car ride home, much less bratty.
you smile into his chest, hands running up his sides only causing more squirms in response. “please what? cmon be a good boy and use your words for me”
the way his chest rises and falls at his neediness already has you feeling the need to close your own thighs together. you need friction more than anything and your body is begging you for it.
“just touch me please, i need it” his voice practically shakes through the words. regardless of how annoyed you are with him, you immediately do as he says, palming through the thin damp fabric.
“so worked up for me already Chris, you like when im on top of you like this don’t you?” you coo into his ear as your hand moves menacingly across his length. he’s already completely hard under your touch and the combination of your words almost makes it painful how badly he wants you. “but i’m not sure you deserve to cum after the shit you pulled earlier”
his hips buck up slightly as the palm of your hands lifts from his sensitivity. “mmh how- how can i make it up to you?”
you hum, as if deep in thought. in reality you already know exactly how you want this to go, he just needs to be the unsuspecting pawn in your evil game of chess. “i don’t know…. im pretty mad at you baby”
“i’ll do anything, please i need you”
his consistent begging is like music to your ears and the last thing you want to do is press pause. your mind wanders when you think about all the things he could provide you in order to make up for his foolish mistake.
his hands.., his thighs—you even consider giving in right away and allowing him to have sex with you right here and now. but it wouldn’t be as fun to give him what he wants right away, and his toxic little mouth should really get put to better use.
you speak low, only furthering the anticipation for what he needs most right now. “i think you need to be shut up. that mouth of yours is mine yeah?” you run your finger over his lip, pulling his bottom lip down lightly until he replies to your question with another eager nod.
your lips meet with his, your tongue immediately attaining dominance within his mouth before you bite down gently on his bottom lip, eliciting a soft moan from the boy.
the strings of your bathing suit are the only thing holding you back from the pleasure you’re aching for. “Chris baby can you help me?” you bring his fingers to your hips so as to guide him to where you need help.
he gets to work right away, untying the strings and immediately causing the bathing suit to slip off of your body to leave you exposed in his line of sight. “you’re so beautiful” his voice leaves behind an innocent compliment.
your lips turn into a smile at his praise as you pick of the wet fabric that lies beneath you, tossing it to the floor that resides besides the bed. “thank you” your fingers trail up his bare chest as your legs straddle him. you make point of sitting down just slightly on his dick, enough to make him wanting more but not enough to provide him any real pleasure.
slowly, you shift higher up his body until you’re aligned with his pretty face that looks up at you with eyes fuelled with worship. “you gonna make me feel good?
he nods again, hands lifting from the sheets to your thighs to pull you onto him before you can get another word in. it’s clear how desperate he is to make you feel good and it only makes you want him more.
Chris places a few teasing kisses above where you want him, having his fun with taking his time before you sit down on him.
it begins slow, his tongue licking a stripe through your folds before focusing on your clit. he’s sure to make sure your weight is fully on him, the pressure of his pink muscle pressed against you is intoxicating.
eventually your hips begin to rock sensually on his mouth while his lips create a suction on your throbbing clit, only proving to build the pleasure you’re experiencing below.
“mmm such a good boy for me Chris. you always know how to make me feel so good” your praise only causes him to increase his speed, giving you exactly what you want. “i’m the only one that gets this- fuck. no other girls can have your tongue the way i do”
you can’t help but fuel your own ego at your situation with Chris, proudly expressing how grateful you are for him while placing subtle jabs at anyone who tries to interfere.
the pace increases. soft moans leaving your lips while his hands squeeze your ass into him, only increasing the pressure of his tongue more.
you’ve quickly forgotten about earlier. your thoughts flooded with the the sensation of his soft lips on you as his tongue inserts itself into you, curling upward.
you fall forward, your upper body becoming weak at the overwhelming speed of his tongue switching from curling into your wetness to sucking on your puffy clit.
a loud sigh escapes your lips as his fingers rub small circles on your lower back, his mouth doing all the work. it’s impossible to stay still, and his tongue makes your body move in a rhythm against his face. hips grinding hungrily into him as you approach your high.
“so good fuck, i’m close baby” you moan out, and you can almost feel his lips curl into a smile under you at how easily it was for him to make you unfold, but he quickly resumes his rhythm on your clit, desperate to give you what you need.
your stomach tenses as your orgasam overtakes you, thighs squeezing his brunette curls that rest between your legs, his tongue working you through your first orgasam.
eventually his mouth slows before you pull yourself off of his face. the sight below could almost make you cum again, his flushed cheeks and messy hair along with the wetness dripping from the corner of his mouth.
god you really do love having him like this.
you swing our leg off of Chris, laying on the bed horizontally next to him. a puzzled expression replaces his hopeful one, he’s not entirely sure what you’re getting at by laying next to him.
you speak after another moment of confusion passes by. “what’s taking you so long? thought you wanted to cum?”
he sits up practically right away, moving his body to hover over yours. you can tell he’s not entirely sure this is what you’re asking but you quickly confirm his suspicions with a short kiss, your hands immediately reaching for the waistband of his shorts. “i need to feel you”
it’s like a lightbulb goes off in his head and he’s immediately more excited than he is confused, hands dropping down to assist you with pulling down the damp bathing suit that keeps him from you.
the sight before your eyes is mouth watering but you can’t give in, still attempting to remain dominant. his dick is clearly exhausted from waiting so long, remnants of pre cum dripping down the veins that surround it.
“make it up to me Chris, i don’t wanna be mad at you after this” you demand, his hands finding your knees to spread your legs open, your centre still leaking slightly from earlier acting as a perfect lubricant for him.
“yes ma’mm” he spits into his hands before spreading the warm saliva over himself, stroking a few times before aligning himself with your entrance.
it begins slow, he always allows you to adjust to his size momentarily, just sinking into you and starting off with lazy, sensual thrusts. his face is aligned with yours, the plush pink colour on his cheeks showing just how badly he needs this—how badly he needs you.
“you fill me up so well baby fuck” you moan out, his pace inside of you increasing slightly as his tip has no problem brushing over your sweet spot.
he leans in, leaving a few wet kisses to your bare neck before whispering in your ear. “i’ve been so bad, let me make it all better”
before you can mutter out some form of a reply his hands travel to your thighs, lifting your legs so that your knees are aligned with your head. this new position only makes the feelings of his thrusts feel deeper.
he quickens his pace, hips moving in a rhythm that causes nothing but small whimpers and moans to leave your lips.
a smile tugs at his lips at your current state, your tits bouncing in the thin bathing suit fabric and your mouth in an o shape at the constant pleasure he’s inflicting onto you.
the strength of his hands on your thighs only further help push himself into you, hitting your g-spot relentlessly. Chris knows you well enough to know when you’re close, your eyebrows furrowing and your walls closing in on him, so he takes that as a sign to bring one hand down in between you.
the pads of his fingers find comfort on your sensitive clit, rubbing light circles as the pace of his hips hasn’t let up once. “fuck Chris you’re so good” you moan out, hands gripping onto the sheets beneath you.
he leans in to your ear again, voice slightly shaky as he avoids the urge to moan. “do you forgive me?” his hand moves quicker against your clit, practically begging you for a simple ‘yes’.
“mmh i-“ you throw your head back, orgasam approaching quickly.
“i need you to say it pretty girl”
the new sense of confidence behind his voice only further turns you on, your orgasam hitting you like a brick before you can even prepare yourself. “yes! mm i forgive you Chris”
at your words he continues slamming his hips into you, using your release as leverage to come to his own high that he’s been holding back for awhile.
suddenly he pulls out, giving his dick a few pathetic pumps as he releases onto your bare stomach, head thrown back and eyes shut in pleasure.
he practically plops in bed beside you, the two of you completely exhausted from the day and the events that transpired moments prior. “i’m so sorry, fuck i was stupid” he groans out, bringing his hand to his forehead to rub at his skin.
“it’s okay, we’re both kind of idiots sometimes” you giggle, placing a small kiss on his cheek before sitting up. “we really need to shower now though, we stink of chlorine”
a/n: hope you enjoyed lol i’m gonna take a break from writing on my page for a while due to burn out and such but i will still be contributing to collabs
if u haven’t read @greatooglymooglyyy or @luv4kozume fics today go do that now those are some of my fav ppl and writers on this app and they deserve all the love!!
taglist:
@lolasnoww-blog @tastesousweet @ivypoison @disturbedwoodelf @sturnswift @junnniiieee07 @ellie-luvsfics @sturnified @madsdogst @justlivinglive @sluttycupsworld @flowerxbunnie @mbsbaby @sturniolossmut @lustfulslxt @69isabella69 @dracoflaco @mattslatinagf @raekensluver @worldlxvlys @greatooglymooglyyy @breeloveschris @st7rnioioss @imwetforyourmom @sturniolololover @immuneweed @its-jennarose @taco-taco-posts @luverboychris @gracealwaysdisgrace @gamermattsgf @mattscoquette @nervoussagittarius
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